#THE END OF SEASON 1 WILL HAUNT ME ALL MY LIFE

[bodhrancomedy]

8 Games Which Made Me Bawl My Fucking Eyes Out (in the best way)

1. A Story Beside

Holy hell, I think the fact I played this one when I was isolating with COVID and terrified my breathing issues were gonna be permanent probably added to my complete sobbing breakdown at the end of this.

Every single chapter is a beautiful gut punch and the ending sequence where you guide Lyric back through her story? Heartbreaking.

2. I Was a Teenage Exocolonist

This is probably one of my favourite games of all time and certainly one I’ve sunk the most hours into.

The fact that your first run-through is almost guaranteed to be full of failure and missed chances just adds to the pain I felt.

But the bug in the nursery. That’s what got me.

3. What Remains of Edith Finch

I’m not sure there’s anything I can say about this game which hasn’t been said already.

Each new room puts another knife in your heart as you pull apart the seams of the Finch family curse with Edith as the last survivor.

Gregory was the moment I had to take a break to compose myself.

4. Story of Seasons: A Wonderful Life

While I think this remake took some of the teeth out of the original, this farm sim which spans the life of your character is full of heartbreaking moments as you raise your child.

Honestly, being allowed to be queer and nonbinary in this game made me bawl because I remember wishing to both be a boy and love men in the older games.

5. Dragon Quest IV

I could add several of the Dragon Quest games to this list, but after fighting the final boss for nearly two decades, beating this game had me sobbing for hours.

That last scene of Chapter Five had such a tiny little animation of our hero taking off his sword and that send me over the edge.

6. Bramble: The Mountain King

I don't know where to start with this dark folktale of a game. From tragic monsters to absolute gut punches following great unsettling scares, this journey to save your sister as a scared child ripped my heart in two.

The hell Olle goes through for his protective sister is dear to my heart as a nervous little brother myself.

7. Citizen Sleeper

The very concept of this RPG is haunting. A construct on the run from the corporation who took your body is sad enough, but the express love of humanity which runs through this? Beautiful.

I'm not very far through and it's already had me in tears twice.

8. Outer Wilds

I don't think I can say a single thing about this game without completely spoiling it.

Go in blind, but be ready for heavy and sorrowful themes. All I'll say is when you hear the ending theme, have tissues ready.

[radicalreliablerandomness]

Podcast Rec Masterpost

I've been asked a couple times for podcast recommendations so I thought I'd post a compilation of some shows and a bit of info about them. Most shows I talk about are tagged below (I ran out of tags) so you can look through fan content as well if you're not one to care about spoilers. My asks are still open for personalized recs if you send me some others that you've listened to just because I love you, yes that's right! You. The person reading this right now!

Here goes!

Dungeons And Daddies *not a BDSM podcast

This show is a dnd actual play podcast. The first season is about four dads from our world lost in the Forgotten Realms in search of their lost sons. It’s a comedy but as with all comedies, you will cry by the end of it. It's super easy to get into with great chemistry between all the cast players and the dm, no prior knowledge of dnd is necessary. They do invoke slight horror sometimes so do keep an eye out for content warnings. Season 1 has 68.5 episodes along with bonus content and a mini campaign in between seasons 1 and 2. Season 2 is currently ongoing. Transcripts available.

The Bright Sessions

This is a science fiction podcast. The premise is a collection of clinical recordings of superpowered people's therapy sessions. The plot gets more interesting and convoluted as you get further in. Incredible voice acting filled with emotion. Does have some heavier discussions so be on the lookout for content warnings. It has 7 seasons (the last two are technically not part of the first five seasons' plot) and is completed. Transcripts available.

Hello From the Hallowoods

A post-apocalyptic fiction podcast. A beautifully written and preformed podcast that explores identity, religion, and other themes in vignettes throughout this haunted world narrated by an omniscient being. Some heavier topics are included so check the content warning before each episode. Seasons 1 and 2 are completed and season 3 will be done soon. Transcripts available.

The Magnus Archives

A horror fiction podcast. A well written chronological story told through anthology which seem to be tape recordings from a paranormal investigation institute. Incredible writing and actors that really bring it to life. This is horror so make sure to check the content warnings. The show is completed at 5 seasons. Transcripts available.

Neighbourly

Another horror fiction podcast! An interesting look into all the houses on Little Street and their peculiarities. Some more peculiar than others. The podcast is absolutely delightful with a horribly fun narrator. I would suggest checking the content warnings as some episodes are more intense than others. The show has 2 completed seasons. Transcripts available.

The Fall of the House of Sunshine

A musical mystery fiction podcast. The first season is about an investigation on the murder of a beloved host of a children's tooth-themed show. That's all I can say without spoilers. There are 3 incredible seasons along with short stories in between each season. Transcripts available until halfway through season 2.

Welcome to Nightvale

Possibly the most well known science fiction podcast, it really speaks for itself but I'll do my spiel anyways. Recorded as snippets of a daily radio broadcast, the show details the weird goings on in this strange desert town of Nightvale. Narrated almost completely by the radio host's smooth voice. It's ongoing and is currently sitting at 233 episodes. Transcripts available.

The Two Princes

A fictional queer romance podcast. It takes place in that special part of fiction that always starts with "once upon a time," it feels like a story book almost. The show is based around two boys meeting in the woods. Spoiler alert: they fall in love. It's just a cute feel good show. The podcast is complete at 3 seasons. Spotify auto-generated transcripts available.

What's the Frequency?

A self described psychedelic noir podcast. It's an absolute blast even if it is a bit hard to follow. Takes place in the 1940s in LA when all radio broadcasts were turned to static. You kind of just have to go with it until you get to the end. Completed at 12 episodes. Transcripts available.

Story Break

A writer's room podcast. The basic concept behind Story Break is 3 Hollywood writers in a room together take a prompt and try to make a story for it in an hour. There are many laughs in this podcast and just all around good humor and vibes. The show is complete at 169 episodes plus two full movie scripts. No transcript.

Who Killed Avril Lavigne

A science fiction podcast. It's about a time traveling pop punk loser and that's all you need to know. It's a podmusical so you'll be getting great nostalgic pop punk type songs along with crying from laughing so hard. Completed at 8 episodes. No transcript.

The Behemoth

A fiction podcast. Based around an unexplainable creature emerging from the ocean and how the world, and one girl in particular, deal with this phenomenon. It is pretty short with the longest episode being about 12 minutes. Completed at 20 episodes. No transcript.

Rude Tales of Magic

A dnd actual play podcast. It is mainly focused on the actual roleplay and story telling as opposed to the actual play. A handful of college students from Polaris University fuck the world up by completing a hazing ritual which in this case is a supposedly demon summoning. Obviously now they need to fix the world. Currently 64 episodes and ongoing. No transcript.

Midnight Burger

A very well written fiction podcast. It’s about a time/space traveling diner where the employees try to help solve a problem every place they land. Think Doctor Who adjacent vibes but with more drama. There is an overarching plot that comes together so look out for that. It has incredible characters that are really nicely fleshed out. You’ll somehow like and hate all of them as much as possible in the best way. Currently has 29 episodes of the main feed and a 9 episode mini-series. Transcript available.

Monstrous Agonies

A fiction podcast. It’s an radio advice segment on a station for “liminal Britain” aka the monstrous world to put it plainly. It’s really chill and comforting. There’s very good advice there and the intermittent ad reads will have you giggling to yourself. Episodes are on the shorter side, averaging about 15 minutes each. It does have some heavier discussions so make sure to check the content warnings. The show is completed at 111 episodes through 3 seasons. Transcripts available.

Desert Skies

A fiction podcast. The voice acting in this one is incredible, it’s the same person the whole time. The show as a whole is also just super well done. The premise is that when you die you show up on a highway and get to this astral pit stop. I’m not going to spoil it anymore you just have to experience it. There is an additional show, Desert Skies FM that's a buddy to this one. I recommend listening to both. Season 1 was completed at 12 episodes. Transcripts available.

Wooden Overcoats

A sitcom dramedy podcast. The show is about two siblings that run a funeral home on an island. It used to be the only one, it isn’t anymore. It has a wacky cast of characters and even wackier plot points. The dialogue can be a little hard to get used to at the beginning but once you get into it it flows easily. The show is completed at 4 seasons. Transcripts available.

Greater Boston

An audio drama podcast. It's set in Boston if you couldn't tell from the title and starts with the death of a man on a rollercoaster. It blends real life with some subtle (and at times not-so-subtle) fantasy elements. It's currently at 4 completed seasons. Transcript available.

Gay Future

A science fiction podcast. In a world where everyone is gay in the future we focus on this one straight kid. Following his journey to destroy the government who are making everyone gay. This is a satire by the way. 1 season completed at 6 episodes. No transcripts.

Death by Dying

A dark comedy podcast. The show follows an obituary writer while he does things that are totally under the jurisdiction of his job. A well written and preformed show. There are a lot of laughs and obviously some heartbreaks as well. Currently 1 completed season with season 2 sitting at 2 episodes for a bit now. Transcript available.

Not Another D&D Podcast

An actual play dnd podcast. This one's more mainstream than my other podcasts so I don't talk about it as much but that doesn't mean it's not incredible. The first campaign is about 3 adventurers off to save the world. Obviously. It can be a bit slow in the beginning but anything past the second half of the first season is incredible. There's humor, drama, love, and much more. The DM is also just incredible. 1 completed season, a couple mini campaigns, and the second season is currently at 43 episodes. No transcripts.

Forgive Me!

A fiction podcast. It starts based around vignettes of confessionals in this small town taken by a new father in the local church. An overarching plot is present but it's generally a feel good, sweet and simple show. They have 2 complete seasons with season 3 currently at 9 episodes. Transcripts available.

Real Housewives of D&D

An actual play dnd podcast. This show is based around the concept of a "Real Housewives..." type show but you don't need to know anything about those to listen to this. It's about 4 reality TV stars thrown into a magical fantasy world with no knowledge of how to get home. There's drama, excitement, danger, and lots more. The first season was just completed at 16 episodes. Transcripts available.

The Silt Verses

A horror fiction podcast. Two people who worship a banned god travel together up a river in a pilgrimage. There is incredible worldbuilding in this show along with acting and sound design. This is horror and a very good one at that so make sure you check content warnings. Season 1 and 2 are completed and season 3 is at 2 episodes so far. Transcripts available.

The Land Whale Murders

A comedy fiction podcast. It takes place in the year 1899 and is about a pair of friends? maybe not, that metaphorically explore the world they're living in. It is a commentary on the world we live in and the problems in it through a hilarious and wacky cast. There are currently 17 episodes between both seasons 1 and 2. Transcripts available.

Elaine's Cooking for the Soul

A post-apocalyptic cooking podcast. The show is about a dentist who makes her way through the fallout of an apocalypse while also making a cooking podcast. It does have depictions of violence, war, and dentistry so check out the content warnings. There are 2 completed seasons. No transcripts.

Fawx and Stallion

A mystery podcast. If you hate Sherlock Holmes you'll love this podcast. Also if you love Sherlock Holmes you'll love this podcast. It's based around the detectives who live across the street from Holmes at 224B Baker street. It's pretty goofy. Season 1 is completed. Transcripts available.

The Amelia Project

A fiction podcast. Follow the shenanigans of this death-faking organization as they take in new clients and hear their stories. It does develop an actual overarching plot later on but every second is fun. Seasons 1-4 have been completed and season 5 is in progress. Transcripts available.

A Voice From Darkness

A horror podcast. It's centered around a radio show hosted by Dr. Malcolm Ryder, Parapsychologist. He helps people who call into his show with supernatural problems, gives PSAs and warnings about strange happenings, and more. Season 1 is completed and season 2 is at 9 episodes. Transcripts available.

Station Arcadia

A dystopian fiction podcast. Formatted through a radio show, it tells the story of a world that's slowly dying. There are vignettes of different characters through different areas of the world. Season 1 is completed at 25 episodes. Transcripts available.

Margaret's Garden

A science fiction podcast. It has two plots running at the same time which keeps you on your toes but makes for an intriguing story line. In one plot line, two agents are sent to investigate the strange happenings of a weird little long abandoned town. Simultaneously, we hear from the past of that town as it catches up to the agents. Completed at 10 episodes. Transcripts available.

Camp Here & There

A horror comedy podcast. It's recorded as a set of daily announcements over a loudspeaker at a totally normal summer camp. The announcements are made by the camp nurse and he's also totally normal. I promise. Make sure to check in with the content warnings as some topics are a little mature or graphic. There are currently 34 episodes. Transcripts available.

Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye

A companion horror podcast. This is actually a bit meta because it is the result of a youtube series. This show is the one the podcast hosts in the series release, it's definitely worth both the watch and the listen though. It's got werewolves and drama. Completed at 10 episodes of video and 10 of the podcast. No transcripts.

I am in Eskew

A horror podcast. It's about a man who's trapped in a city where the buildings always change and the rain never stops. There's a weird monotonous creeping horror in this show that just draws you in. Check for content warnings definitely. Completed at 30 episodes. Transcripts available.

Traveling Light

A comfy cozy fiction podcast. It follows The Traveller on their exploration through space, visiting alien planets and collecting stories to send back to their community. For supporters of the show, it almost functions as a choose-your-own-adventure with choices to vote on and listener submissions. It's made by the same people as Monstrous Agonies so if you enjoyed that, you'd enjoy this and vice versa. There are currently 16 episodes. Transcripts available.

Not yet described but still recommended:

Eeler’s Choice

The Secret of St Kilda

The Endless Ocean

The Department of Variance of Somewhere, Ohio

The Sword & The Stoner

World Gone Wrong: a fictional chat show about friendship at the end of the world

Travelling Light

Waterlogged

[thisgameissonintendo]

some thoughts...

at this point this seems like the usual 'hey, a show that has my whole heart got canceled' -post because it keeps haunting me every year but i have some words on dead boy detectives.

when the trailer was posted my first thought was 'hmmm, i don't really know about this. i'm still sad and upset about lockwood. but i gotta say this looks interesting'. months passed, dbd aired. and i LOVED it from the very first second. loved it more than any other show i've ever seen before. it was fun, it was lovely, everything made sense, no plot holes, interesting characters, long episodes, action, romance, it had everything. i could go on about how much i love this show for hours but if you know me, you know how much i love it and the cast + crew. they deserve all the praise in the world and all they wish for. they created a home for so many of us. true heroes.

dbd introduced me to the most amazing people in the world. i started talking to someone who i've known for some time but dbd was the reason we connected. i guess it was that last bit of tv magic that brought us together.

i don't really enjoy tv shows all that much (movies even less), so a show has to be good for me to give it a chance. it took me 0.01 seconds to know dead boy detectives was the show for me. it sparked my creativity, i had (and still have!) so many ideas. it made me happy. truly happy. whenever i think about the show or all the people i was introduced to because of it i get emotional. it means so much to me and it's like my little escape from reality. a dream really. a dream that's not ending because a certain network decided it was a good idea to cancel one of it's best shows. after 8 episodes. 1 season. again.

i'm really grateful and i don't know what i did to be welcomed in this fandom. i love everyone here and i hope we'll continue to be a little family. you may not know me or just see me as someone who posts content but just know that i'm thankful you crossed my path somehow. thank you for making me happy and being a little part of my life 🫂 and remember - we're all just a mirror away 🫶

[zluty-spendlik]

WAKFU REDESIGN AND REWRITE SERIES PART 2

Yugo

Okay I really should've started with Yugo but I just had so many ideas for Eva I had to let it out. (link to part 1 here)

And with Yugo, I have the exact opposite feelings, because... he's fine. He's the main character, he's a kid, he acts like a kid, he's very thoughtful and kind... I don't have any issues with his character.

But! Theres still ideas i have!

For example, I never quite liked the idea of Yugo being the Eliatrope king and yeah, I know hes a child but he never really... gave me leader vibes, yk? Tbh compared to Adamaï he severely lacks the assertive personality. After finding out that hes the last airbender Eliatrope, he doesnt even care for the culture much. Or like- at all? Hes mostly excited about his superpowers- AND THATS FINE, hes a literal child, but still... a supposed king.

So either make him more invested in his people (you could make a whole arc outta that! He gets hyperfixated on figuring his heritage out he forgets about the here and now - tho that really does sound more like Adamaï) OR make him state outloud that he already has a life and doesnt want to start another one! He likes his friends and adventures and doesnt need anything else... until he does. Make him grow and find parts of himself he didnt even know were missing. New values, a culture he can be a part of!

(Also AU where Yugo actually cant use his powers properly so they only inconvenience him (like accidentally teleporting his stuff) and he tries to stay away from his heritage as long as possible until Grougal is just forced to drag him out the house is so entertaining 2 me istg)

So im fine with the story Qilby has spun, where he and Shinonome are the leaders cause HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE?? And anyway, the Adventure duo finding out about Qilbys betrayal through random goofy shenanigans seems pretty in character lmao

Design

I like Yugos design (except for the shoes, they absolutely haunt me) so I mostly just put my own spin on it rather than changing it radically. I briefly debated on giving him a tail or more dragon-like features but then I realized he lived a normal life before all this lol the village would PROLLY NOTICE

Tho it finally hit me that Eliatropes cleatly have deer features- like the little fur thingy at the end of the Eliatrope cap resembling a deer tail??? How did I not notice that??? But I think his s4 outfit resembles a bat way more so idk?

I gave him white freckles like the bambi spots and light blue "wakfu" spots on the back instead of the runes on his chest he has in the Qilby final boss fight. Also I couldnt decide which outfit I like more for s1-2 so which one do u guys like more?

I havent watched season 3-4 but I did a potential s3 Yugo look as well, I had fun :))

Yugo art dump

[armageddon-generation]

The Bear Season 3 is a bridge season that feels weird on purpose, but also has some big problems: A review/ramble

Season 3 is clearly a bridge season, and suffers from having been written & shot alongside season 4. As a result, unlike the seasons 1 & 2, it doesn’t feel like a distinctive or complete chapter of the restaurant’s life. Just half of one.

This is partly because there’s no ‘end-goal’ like in S2, or clear progression/visible improvement to the restaraunt like in S1. Season 3 is about stagnation. Most of its storylines are left unresolved- the review, Sydney’s job offer, Tiff & Frank’s wedding, Marcus being inspired by his mother’s death, Tina and the dying farmer’s market, Carmy’s conflicts with both Claire and Ritchie. All these threads will roll into Season 4, and Season 3 suffers from that.

PACING, FLASHBACKS AND TONE: FORM REFLECTING FUNCTION

HOWEVER. This being a ‘bridge’, character-focused season isn’t inherently bad. Individual episodes of The Bear still tear when they want to. Episodes 1, 2, & 3 are a very strong setup for the season and establish good momentum. Episodes 6 & 8 are fantastic character pieces, and 8 in particular made me bawl. Even the finale, though bogged down by masturbatory celebrity chef cameos, was a strong episode.

The problem is all the stuff in-between. The actual day-to-day running of the restaurant feels hollow and empty now. There’s a distance between the characters and it feels like they don’t interact as a group anywhere near as much.

Part of this is absolutely deliberate. People joke about S3 'method acting' its way into bad reviews to reflect the restaraunt, but losing steam and the connections between characters is genuinely a formal reflection of the kitchen crew's moods, as the day-to-day grind of running the restaurant wears them down.

The use of flashbacks in 3x1 is excellent, but Season 3 quickly becomes way over-reliant on them (episode 9 especially, oh my god). Again, this feels like a conscious choice to reflect Carmy’s state of inertia/the fact he’s perpetually trapped in the past. It makes sense, but that doesn’t give the show a pass for being boring, and 3x9 was the first time I’ve ever felt genuinely bored by this show.  

FUCK THE FAKS & NEGLECTING POC CHARACTERS

My other problems are much more clearly the fault of the show; I do not give a flying fuck about the Faks. Neil is cute in small doses. The brothers are great as soundboards for other characters; Theo getting Sweeps to talk about his backstory in baseball, the brothers comforting Donna at the end of 3x8 Ice Chips, or the haunting argument finally forcing Carmy to talk about Claire.

But on their own? When they’re just bouncing off each-other? These guys aren't half as funny as the show seems to think they are. And their scenes drag on so long. For example, the B-plot of 3x5 Computer wastes half of an otherwise strong episode with pointless fucking around, propped up by a pointless celebrity cameo. I do not Give. A. Fuck about haunting, Mr. Cena, why the fuck are you here.

The aggravating time-wasting is made worse by The Bear continuing to neglect and underuse its POC characters. This is the second season in a row where I’ve felt Syd only got the bullet-points of an arc. She is the LEADING LADY. Ayo is now the show’s biggest breakout star. USE HER.

I really enjoyed Tina's focus episode, but unlike Forks and Honeydew last season it doesn't move the plot forward, and unlike Fishes the flashbacks don't contextualize Tina''s actions in the present because she's barely doing anything in the present, despite the show setting up her struggles in the kitchen early in the season.

Meanwhile, Ebra got crumbs again and Sweeps got a single scene, which is tragically at least better than he had last year.

Marcus’ arc this year is a fascinating microcosm for the show’s themes, but it barely gets a second to breathe because we have to cram in another five minutes of the Fak brothers arguing about that time Neil got taped into a cardboard box. It’s ridiculous. And then they showcase Nat being all protective of Marcus in an episode he’s barely in, when she barely interacts with him. It feels unearned & disingenuous, using Marcus as a prop for a Hell Yeah gotcha moment.

I liked Josh Harnett though, that casting had purpose, and both Chef Terry and Luca were used excellently.

CAMEOS

The surprise celebrity cameos this year felt distracting and indulgent in a way last year’s didn’t. In Fishes the slew of cameos were a dramatic tool meant to disorient the viewer. This year, John Cena is here to distract you from how pointless this B-plot is, and we've brought in a bunch of famous chefs to tell you direct-to-camera why cooking and the service industry are so important.

The chefs in particular are bizzare after season 1 spent most of its time telling us how evil and toxic the fine dining industry is. But now it's actually just the fault of a few bad apples, and these guys are really rad actually?

CLAIRE

Much has been said about how Claire was an underwritten archetype for Carmy to project onto. Now, I don’t much give a fuck about shipping in this show, but it’s clear Claire & Carmy’s romance didn’t connect with most people. It felt hollow. At the time, I thought this was deliberate, like the tone and flashbacks this season; Claire’s writing reflected Carmy’s perception of her as a saintlike childhood daydream who could deliver him from all the stresses of his life.

But this season, not only does the show refuse to let Claire go, it doubles down on objectifying her as a prop for Carmy’s self-loathing, trapped in his memory.

Again, this might work thematically if I knew Claire as a person, or was at all invested in their romance, but I don't and I’m not. As it stands, the multiple extended flashbacks with Claire feel like futile attempts to plug the holes in Season 2's weakest storyline, and drag their episodes down. If we’re supposed to root for Carmy to find happiness outside the kitchen, this is having the opposite effect, and it’s made worse by it all being left unresolved by the finale.

Either do something with this character or move on, because right now every time Claire appears I clock out emotionally, and that’s not her fault, it’s the way the show treats her.

CARMY THE ASSHOLE

All this contributes to an overriding problem that I again think is deliberate, but risky; Carmy isn’t likeable this season. He causes his conflicts with Ritchie and Syd, to whom he has passed down his generational trauma. Carmy's menu is the biggest thing dragging the Bear into bankruptcy. Carmy has stopped working to resolve his familial trauma like in seasons 1 & 2, just as Nat starts making headway. He functionally doesn’t exist outside the kitchen, entirely preoccupied with the past & a girl the audience doesn’t care about.

Unlike previous seasons, the few times Carmy is called out for his bad behaviour he doesn’t make much effort to listen or improve. Again, I get that this is the point. Carmy is on a low, self-destructive ebb, and hopefully when things start resolving in season 4 he’ll snap out of it. But him dragging the show down with him has consequences.

EPISODE COUNT & FINAL THOUGHTS

A lot of people are saying that S3 only had enough plot for 2-3 episodes, and while I think that’s disingenuous- The Bear has always been a character-focused, vibes-first show- I do think it should've returned to the 8-episode count of season 1. You can consolidate the same amount of ‘plot development’ into fewer episodes while maintaining the deliberate sense of inertia. Cut back on the Faks and flashbacks to give more time to the kitchen crew, and many of the complaints would disappear.

Anyway, all this to say that The Bear season 3 is not Bad like some are saying, but it is a step down from its first two seasons. It feels like it’s got lost in its own head and lost a part of itself along the way, and while a lot of that is deliberate- formally reflecting Carmy’s internal conflict- it exacerbates existing problems (underwritten POC, Claire) and creates several new ones (celeb cameos, overusing flashbacks, unresolved plotlines) previous seasons were able to sidestep.

[whenmemorydies]

The Claw, The Scrunchie and The Prayer Card: Part 2 (Timing)

A couple weeks ago, I posted a prediction on the significance of the hair claw, the scrunchie and the prayer card that appear in Carmy's apartment in season 3. In that analysis, I suggested that these items represent three particular characters on the show and Carmy's relationships with them (FYI: the hair claw = Natalie, the scrunchie = Sydney and the prayer card = Richie). We see the scrunchie and the prayer card together at the end of 3x09 Apologies, placed in the same spot in Carmy's apartment. The first and last time we see the hair claw however, is in 3x01 Tomorrow, the first episode of the season.

In their reblog of The Claw, The Scrunchie and The Prayer Card meta, @moodyeucalyptus queried why we didn't see the hair claw with the scrunchie and the prayer card at the end of 3x09. I had my suspicions about this, but it wasn't until recently that I think I've come to a clearer understanding about the separate presentations of these items in season 3 and what the timing of their appearances means, particularly for Carmy's relationship with Nat and with his birth family.

Natalie is haunting Carmy

Or rather, the Berzatto family is haunting Carmy. Let me explain.

We see the hair claw in Carmy's apartment in the first episode of season 3. I think its early appearance in the season is for two reasons:

The first is that the hair claw is a legerdemain, meant to look like a token of Claire's given its appearance in 3x01 in between scenes of Claire at home and at work. I think the purpose of this sleight of hand was to misdirect the viewer's attention to Carmy's love life from the outset and misleadingly establish it as the primary source of his mental anguish this season. As I've noted here, I don't think Claire is the main source of Carmy's anguish.

In fact, it seems pretty clear that Claire herself is a legerdemain: a stand in for Carmy's relationship with The Berzattos. This has been discussed in various places on Tumblr including in this fantastic post by @brokenwinebox contrasting shots of Donna/Donna with Carmy and Claire/Claire with Carmy, as well as in this *chefs kiss* comparison between shots of Claire and the Berzattos done by @currymanganese. I also had a theory where I posited that Claire is a reverse-engineered haunt, maintained by Carmy to keep his brother Mikey in his life, after the latter's death.

We also have this LA Times article in which The Bear's Andrew Wehde (cinematographer) and Joanna Calo (showrunner, executive producer, writer and director) say the following:

All of the above is to say that Claire and her relationship with Carmy seriously appear to be sleights of hand masking the truth of the main source of Carmy's anguish: his birth family.

Which brings us back to the hair claw, which, as I've said here, I believe belongs to Carmy's sister, Natalie Berzatto.

If we are working on the basis that the hair claw belongs to Carmy's sister and not Claire, lets get to the second reason that we see it in 3x01 and not with the scrunchie and prayer card in 3x09.

First, we need to note that Carmy's relationship with the owner of this hair claw - Natalie - is inextricably linked to his relationship with his birth family, the Berzattos. Natalie is his biological sister from that family and she's also the ONLY Berzatto family member that Carmy is seen having any contact with in the present after returning to Chicago to run The Beef in season 1.

Indeed, according to Jamie Lee Curtis, Carmy hasn't seen his mother Donna, the only other surviving member of his immediate family (that we've met on the show) since the events of 2x06 Fishes, approximately 5-6 years ago (given the events in season 3 appear to take place in 2023).

By the time we get to 3x01, Carmy's relationship with the Berzattos (including with Natalie) has had a lifetime of impact on him due, among other things, to an intergenerational history of abuse and trauma. Indeed, right before we see the hair claw in 3x01, we see Carmy staring down at the scar on his hand - a scar that @thoughtfulchaos773 has concluded Carmy got on the day he learned about his brother Mikey's suicide - another visual reminder of Carmy's family and the shadow it casts over his life.

Given the above, I believe the hair claw in the season premiere indicates to us that Carmy is entering season 3 with this familial history playing heavily on his mind. Season 3 also starts on the back of the walk-in fiasco in 2x10 which this reblog thread between myself, @bbythurs and @ambeauty discusses as a representation for Carmy of a broken promise to Sydney and the rest of The Bear crew. In that broken promise, we see an inadvertent repetition by Carmy of the behaviours in his birth family that he hates the most (recall his Al-Anon monologue in 2x03 Sundae where Carmy says his family would fuck up things that gave him amusement and enjoyment, but specifically that they would make promises they weren't able to keep). In this way, season 3 starts with Carmy doing everything he can to undo that broken promise, to undo repeating hurtful familial patterns.

In contrast to the above, Carmy's relationships with Sydney and Richie, while not great at the start of season 3, have not yet reached a boiling point and perhaps are not as front of mind for Carmy. By the time we see the scrunchie and the prayer card at the end of 3x09 however, Syd and Richie's relationships with Carmy have massively deteriorated and are hanging on by a thread. They are definitely occupying his mind by then, explaining why the mementos associated with these two characters are revealed to us at that point in the show.

As always, these are my thoughts and an attempt to apply some logic to a season that, due to its lack of actual dialogue, relies on so much interpretation to muddle our way through. I'm not saying this as a total criticism, because my neurodivergent self loves analysing things like this, but I can see why this season put so many off lol. Its been 1.5 months since I did my first run through of this season and I'm still finding new things I missed during my first watch.

Tagging folks below who might be interested but as always, keen to hear from anyone that wants to chat about this stuff:

@currymanganese @vacationship @moodyeucalyptus @thoughtfulchaos773 @brokenwinebox @espumado @tvfantic87 @ambeauty @bbythurs @mitocamdria @turbulenthandholding @anxietycroissant @angelica4equity @devisrina @kdbleu

My next meta will get into just how The Berzatto family is haunting Carmy in season 3...when I finally get around to finishing it. I'm saying it out loud here to force myself to get it done lol. Stay tuned!

[nalyra-dreaming]

Holy shit?!

src

“Louis is still fighting to get to something, to unlock the memories that have curiously evaded him. "The pursuit of memory and truth is the driving force this season. It motivates Louis to get to where we're going to get to by the end of it," said Zaman. "Season 1 proved that his memory's completely shot in lots of ways, but who, or what, did that — that's the question I think we're going to have to answer."…

“It all begins with Louis, a textbook unreliable narrator, though Jones and Anderson both bristle a bit at the term. "One self delusion knits itself to the rest of your life," Jones said. He argued that Louis' memory might be "80-90 percent" correct, though it only takes one mistaken detail to muddle a timeline and cancel someone out entirely. "To unwind that, you call into question all this stuff. It doesn't mean that all this stuff isn't right. It's just this thing has altered it a little bit."

…

To Anderson, Louis' unreliability matters less than the vivid reality of his feelings. "It's not necessarily that Louis is a quote-unquote unreliable narrator," he said. "He is, because what he's saying is completely subjective. But I think it has just as much to do with how something felt, the feeling of a person or the feeling of an experience, than it is him actively trying to deceive anybody." That comes out most strongly in Dubai, particularly in the second season. "He's really, genuinely trying to find the closest thing to an objective recalling of events that he possibly can."…

“I like writing for Sam Reid, and I think in terms of how this thing is structured and what's going on in this headspace, it wasn't a big leap to go, 'Oh, he's haunting. He's inside Louis,'" Jones said. When we see Lestat at the beginning of the season, he manifests as what Anderson and Reid referred to as "dream Lestat" — not quite himself, not quite a ghost, not quite a memory, but some blend of all three, filtered through Louis' guilt and grief.

…

"Who is Louis remembering, and how is Louis remembering [Lestat] is always on my mind," said Reid when we first spoke at the Television Critics Association winter press tour in February. "I'm always thinking about it, and I'm always talking about it, much to the chagrin of pretty much everyone." (From across the table we were crowded around, Anderson heckled, "I can vouch for that.") Later, when we met one on one over Zoom, Reid elaborated, "Louis is speaking to himself, so he speaks like Louis. But he's also speaking to Lestat, and he's choosing to speak to Lestat when he's speaking to himself." The first time we see Lestat in Season 2, he materializes before Louis as a gory vision during a moment of mental deterioration, vengeful and overbearingly loving all at once. What was already a blurry line between the ex-lovers has now become indistinguishable.“…

“With dream Lestat assuming a number of dispositions, all dictated by Louis' headspace, separating dream Lestat from the real Lestat was crucial to Reid. "It's clear that Louis is putting the words into his mouth," Reid said. "Who's the guy that he's forced to see looking back at him, saying the words that he thinks he should be saying?" The presence of dream Lestat means that the state of the real Lestat is unclear when the season opens, but becoming this slightly unreal version of his character built on the groundwork Reid had already been laying. Going back to the first season, he often rejected Anderson's impulse to play their scenes together as if they were true. "I know this is not how this happened," he said of Louis' version of events, "which allowed me to kind of lean into the more sow's ear version of Lestat in specific moments, because I knew that we might be revisiting them."…

“For Claudia, Lestat's influence will always linger. "That's his daughter," Hayles said simply. "He doesn't need to be a ghost. He's in her." Louis and Claudia know each other inside and out, and Louis' love for Claudia is all-encompassing, but she sees the writing on the wall the moment he meets Armand: What happened with Lestat will happen again as Louis chooses another man over her.“

(much more behind the link!!)

UPDATE: link to the author’s tweet, Allison Picurro

[emisprocrastinatingbywriting]

Alone and Forsaken

Summary:

Alone and forsaken, Joel Miller hides himself away at the end of the world. After losing Sarah he was a shell of a man, trying to drown her memory in the blood of any soul that dared to cross his path. No matter what he did, Sarah haunted him. Then came Ellie, the girl he had been through hell with. Joel felt his chest crack open for her and from then on he decided that wherever Ellie went, he would be there. The Fireflies had other ideas. Joel had fought hard, he had torn through that hospital slaughtering anyone that he came across but he was too late. After practically burning down all of Salt Lake City, Joel banishes himself to a cabin in the middle of the woods. Resigned to his fate, his self imposed exile is soon interrupted when he finds you. Broken, starving, and on the brink of freezing to death, Joel has no choice but to let you into his life. With the winter winds in Montana being particularly piercing this season, he is forced to wait until the spring thaws the ground so that he can dump you on Tommy’s doorstep in Wyoming. Can he keep you at arm’s length until then? 

Warnings: Postoutbreak!Joel, mentions of child loss, mentions of religious trauma, brief mentions of Tommy and Maria, mentions of Tess, grieving Joel, Slow burn, eventual smut, eventual soft!Joel, A/B/O dynamics, unspecified age reader age (reader is in her mid-20s and Joel is 56), mentions of violence, Joel really needs a hug in this

A/N: This is my first fic so let me know what you guys think! I'm going to continue to put chapter warnings, both you and Joel are traumatized in this. This is going to be a bit of a slow-burn so strap in folks!

Chapter 1/20 - More to come!

Chapter 1: Withered and Gone

The thundering of his heart pounded in his ears, almost deafening him to the sound of each bullet that ripped into anyone in his way. Joel barely registered their deaths. If asked today he wouldn’t even be able to tell you how many people he slaughtered. Forty? Sixty? One hundred? He had no idea. Filled with a primal fear that pumped battery acid through his veins, he pressed on until he made it to the door.

That door. Joel hated that fucking door. He knew what he would find on the other side, he had seen it every other night for the last four years. Knowing didn’t change anything, it never did. Whether it was him cradling Sarah in his arms while screaming for Tommy and feeling her tiny body turn cold, or being confronted with Ellie’s skull cracked open while a stranger sliced through her brain, knowing didn’t make it better. 

Joel woke, as he did every night, with his heart slamming against his ribs and bile rising in his throat. His eyes were wild as he searched desperately for someone he would never have again, two someones that were gone forever. Nostrils flared, Joel huffed the stale air around him, searching haphazardly for the smell of strawberries and vanilla or cinnamon and ginger. For Sarah and Ellie, his pups. 

Joel was greeted with nothing but his own musk, the scent gone sour from the memories haunting his dreams. Running shaky hands over his flushed face, he cursed under his breath before getting up for the day. Knees popping and back twinging in protest, he forced himself into the tiny bathroom connected to his bedroom. Ignoring the weathered face in the mirror, Joel hauled himself into the shower and let the warm water soothe his tense muscles.

After Salt Lake City, Joel had resigned himself to living in the first dilapidated hunting cabin he could find in Montana. It was what he deserved after failing her. Again. He was a bad Alpha, an even worse father, he had let not one but TWO pups die under his care. Living out the rest of his days in some shithole was the least he could do. 

Having stumbled back to Wyoming, Joel reached Jackson and collapsed at the front gate. He remembers Tommy above him, trying and failing to shake him out of the daze he was in. He remembers the unfamiliar smells of the clinic, Tommy and Maria coming to see him. He remembers a beta doctor coming in to explain the lows he would experience in the coming months, being an alpha who had lost their pup.

As if he didn’t already know. 

Joel couldn’t stay there. He couldn’t stand the softness of the sheets, how Tommy looked at him with sorrow and Maria with guarded pity, how his innocent nephew looked up at him with Tommy’s eyes - the eyes that were the same as his, the same eyes he passed on to Sarah. It only got worse when he left the clinic. Walking through the streets of Jackson reminded him of Ellie. He had to restrain himself from burning the place to the ground. After turning quite a few heads in town with his bitter scent and chilling presence, Joel left quietly in the middle of the night. He left a note for Tommy with the patrol hanging around the front gate and departed for his exile. 

Sleepwalking through Wyoming, he finally made his way into Montana where he found the cabin. It must have been the treasure of some reclusive hunter, as it sat smack dead in the middle of the forest without a single road in sight for miles. The building was one story, with a slightly rotting front porch that was overhung by the tin roof. Black solar panels were clamped on the green tin roof, light reflecting against the glass and burning his eyes.

Joel approached it cautiously, pricking up his ears for any potential danger. Who would leave this oasis out here? Hearing nothing, he approached the log building and climbed the slightly softening stairs. Pushing open the door, he was greeted with nothing but dusty air. Taking one step into the room, he could tell nobody had been in this cabin for years. Dust covered the coffee table and moth eaten couch in the living room. Yellowing books lined the shelves and a taxidermied deer leered at him from the wall. 

Pushing forward, Joel found a puke green kitchen with a plethora of expired canned food and knitted dishcloths in a variety of bright colors. Next to that, a hallway that led him to a bathroom with a kitschy painting of a monkey in a wig brushing his teeth. Joel stared at it for a second, wondering who the hell would have bought something like that. Was he that type of person before the world went to shit? He couldn't remember. 

His tour of the house continued and he found two bedrooms. The first was a master suite with a large bed and a dust soaked brown comforter. He ignored the pictures that lined the walls and shifted through the dressers for anything useful. He found some pants and flannels around his size, as well as some smaller clothes that clearly belonged to a woman. Maybe the owner had a wife? Joel tsked at himself, he needed to remain focused on the task at hand. 

Joel dropped his bag, keeping his rifle notched against his shoulder as he approached the last door to the cabin. Surely if a clicker was going to jump out of him it would have already, but humans don’t typically alert their prey before pouncing in his experience. Joel didn’t smell anything as he approached the door but he remained tense. He didn’t trust his senses anymore. Hell, he hadn’t even smelled the Fireflies that approached him as he did compressions on Ellie after the tunnel. Years before that, he hadn’t noticed the soldier's scent sour after getting the orders that would kill Sarah. 

“Stupid, so fucking stupid, bad alpha, bad provider…”, he growled before shaking his head, trying to clear his mind of the poison that seeped into his soul with every waking moment of his miserable life. 

Half expecting (and half hoping) to be shot dead the second he enters the final room, Joel was greeted with a sight that punched him in the gut. He stumbled back a few steps before a wave of dizziness lurched him forward again. Ears ringing, he fell to his knees and let out a pained cry. 

The room was simple, with flowers painted lovingly on the walls and comic books stuffed into the tiny book shelf on the wall. Tears began to stream down his face as he shakily crawled forward. Joel grasped the only picture that sat on the peachy nightstand. Practically choking on his own cries, he dusted off the frame and looked at the picture. 

Two girls sat on the front porch. The girl on the left was tomboyish and silly, holding a fishing rod in one hand and throwing up the peace sign with the other. The other girl was softer, hands covered in paint and smiling wide while holding a painting of what looks to be a Disney princess. In another life, that could have been them; his pups, Ellie and Sarah.

“It’s not them, it’s not them, it’s n-not them,” he mumbled to himself, trying to ignore the similarities while his heart rate soared.

He could feel rage building up in his chest as he looked at the girls, his vision going blurry and his jaw popping with how hard he ground his teeth. 

“IT’S NOT FUCKING THEM!,” he yelled, launching the picture at the wall and shattering the frame. 

Joel stayed on the floor for hours before he collected himself, giving one last look to the room before closing it for good. This place would do fine, he decided. It was secluded enough to keep him in his solitary confinement. The cabin sat near a river with clean flowing water and had seeds and canned food in the cabinets. It even had a tomb for his dead girls to serve as a constant reminder of his failure. Scratch that, his failures. This would be where he spent the rest of his life. Alone, as it should be. 

For four years, Joel secluded himself in his cabin. The place had a few adjustments since then. The dust was shaken out of the blankets and the windows opened to wash out the dankness of the place. He had planted seeds and started a garden, put up traps around the area for meat, and even fixed the porch after he had almost fallen through it one morning.

Tommy found him a couple months after his arrival and he managed swindle his brother into helping him get the solar panels working so that he could have power. The younger Miller had lingered, trying to convince his brother to follow him back to a life in Jackson but Joel had just growled at the beta until he backed off. The only concession Joel agreed two was a meet up two times a year, once before winter hit in November and once again at the break of Spring in May. He knew Tommy just wanted to check in on him and as annoyed as he was, he also knew that it was the only way he could avoid the beta dragging him back to Jackson.

Jackson didn’t need the measly produce and game that Joel provided, Joel knew that. His brother needed proof that Joel was still breathing, and this was the only way Tommy knew he could get it. 

Joel’s head pounded at the thought of his idiot brother as he tried to rinse off the memories that plagued him. He stood under the scalding spray for a few more moments, willing himself to relax. He wondered briefly if it was his rut that was coming but he quickly brushed that off. He hadn’t had one of those since Tess was still alive. Whether it was stress or that he was aging way too fast, they had just stopped one day. Not that he minded, he hadn’t cared much for the monthly desperation and now he didn't think he deserved the pleasure a release would bring him.

Turning the valve, Joel stepped out of the shower and toweled off. His body was practically on auto pilot as he went through his routine of getting dressed. He crammed whatever food he could find into his mouth before putting on his boots and heading out to check the traps. 

The air was chilly as Joel stepped out. He quickly zipped his jacket while cursing the wind that bit into his wide frame. Joel stopped to look at the sky briefly and wondered if it would snow soon. A week into November and the temperatures had dropped drastically. He wondered if this winter would be as brutal as the last. One day he had not even been able to get out the front door with how much snow had come. After 24 hours, he had to literally dig himself out. 

Sighing, he headed into the trees surrounding the cabin. Every trap he crossed was empty, save for the last one near the river. That was usually the case, with animals that sought water easily getting snared in the wire. The trap held a good sized rabbit. He grinned as he thought about the stew that he would make with the gamey meat.  

“You’ll do just fine darling,” he drawled, releasing the snare from its neck before he shoved it in his pack. 

Joel turned, deciding to return to the cabin so that he could properly skin his new found treasure but something stopped him in his tracks. His spine straightened. Is that? No, it can't be. His nose lifted in the air, searching for something that could not possibly be true. That’s when he heard it. 

It was quiet. The noise barely carried over the wind and the river nearby but his ears zoned into it immediately. His instincts were trained for this. Joel waited a second. He was sure that he had finally lost it, but then he heard it again.

A whine. 

Not just any whine, no, this whine was high pitched and light. It floated on the cold air over to him and smacked him in the face. The scent of lavender and peppermint dizzied him and his heightened senses picked up another strangled whine. This whine had sweat forming on his brow and a need to protect tensing all the muscles in his legs. He was sure of it now. This was the whine of an omega. 

For a second Joel just stood there dumbfounded. What the fuck was an omega doing all the way out here? Were they alone? Did they need help? Were they hurt? If they are hurt then they need his help. He has to help, need to be good, need to protect, need to…

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Joel gritted out, rubbing his eyes as his headache worsened with every second he stood there. 

Another gust of cold wind brushed against his face and the sweet scent surrounded him again. He smelled the sharp note of panic in the aroma and his legs moved forward before his brain could process the action, his instincts taking over for him. Bounding through the trees, he ran towards the riverbank. His eyes wheeled around his surroundings, a gasp leaving his mouth as he spied a small lump near the rushing waters. Heart pounding in his ears, Joel raced towards it.

-You-

How long had you been lost? Weeks? A month? You didn’t even know anymore. You had been a part of a group of people, being the only survivors from a larger place that had been overrun by infected. After dodging infected and raiders for nearly a year, your luck had to ran out.

Your group had ran out of gas on some godforsaken backroad and were utterly stranded there. Hoping to find something in the small town - could you even call it a town? - your group had trudged into the small strip of dilapidated stores with one sorry looking gas station in the center. 

Everything had happened so fast. One moment you were outside the gas station watching a squirrel skitter up a tree near you, the next there were gunshots and screaming. Infected tore apart the face of your friend, an older omega named Miriam who had taken you under her wing, right in front of you. You remember screaming and immediately twenty dead faces turning in your direction. Miriam’s alpha, a soft yet stern woman named Rachel, had stepped in front of you cocking her gun. You whined and whimpered, legs shaking and scent downright acidic with terror as you cowered behind her. 

“Go Y/N,” Rachel yelled at you, squaring up as the runners and clickers darted towards her. 

You couldn't leave her. What would you do? Where would you go? Rarely had you ever been allowed to be alone and you never really wanted to be. Being an unclaimed omega in a lawless world meant that you had to stick to groups with those that would protect you, lest you become a raiding group's plaything.

Rachel pushed you back and started firing. Whining behind her, you tried to pull her towards the guard rail. You needed her, how would you survive alone?

“GET OUT OF HERE OMEGA!,” Rachel boomed. 

That flipped a switch in you. It was a biological kick in the ass that had you turning and sprinting across the road. Jumping over the guardrail, you looked back over your shoulder and saw Rachel slicing through the advancing dead. With her emptied gun somewhere on the ground behind her, you watched as a clicker launched itself at her and tore into her flesh. 

With Rachel’s last instructions to you bouncing off the walls of your now empty brain, you turned and sprinted into the forest. Passing nothing but trees, you ran until you were gagged and retched. Your chest was practically on the verge of exploding by the time you stopped and your legs gave out. Collapsing on to the cold ground, you laid beneath the foliage and drifted. 

That had been weeks ago, or months, you weren’t sure at this point. It’s not like keeping a calendar was on your mind. Plus, your heats had stopped from the starvation your group had faced for the past year. You tried counting how many days you had been lost by the nights but soon, with only a bag of granola in your pack and bottle of water depleted, the days and nights had blurred together.

This was how you were going to die. You felt like laughing and crying at the same time. You had been young when the virus hit, maybe 5 years old, and had watched it pick off every member of your family until it was just you and your mother. Your mother had been kind once, you think, but aren’t entirely sure if that was true or wishful thinking. 

A fairytale made up by a lonely child in a dying world perhaps?

You shook your head. No, she had sung songs to you at one point but that was before. After the infection, after your father died, she had kept you safe while bouncing around QZs in search of some sort of safe haven. That was until she met Josiah, a preacher that took you both into his group and quickly became your stepfather. 

You had tried to like him. He seemed sweet at first, giving candies to you and the other children at camp, offering to teach you how to tend to the garden, bringing you a pair of pink shoes that you were so excited to have that your mother pinched your arm just to get you to stop squealing. However, things shifted after your mother and you got more comfortable in town. It became clear that worshipping was the only way that Josiah would let you stay.

Your mother followed along, biting her cheeks and dragging you with her to bible studies and all night prayer services that bruised your knees. But you could tell that she hated every second of it. You could feel it in the way she wrenched you forward everytime you protested going to the services that you hated. You had been to religious services briefly before the outbreak, your mom taking you to Catholic mass once for Christmas eve and your father taking you to celebrate Purim at the local synagogue, but you were way too young to really understand the meaning of any of it. By the time Josiah came around, those memories were barely a whisper in your brain. 

Things got worse from there. Josiah became the centerpiece for the group and everyone bowed to his every decree. The alphas were at the top of the pecking order, never to be questioned especially by an omega. Omegas were to be demure, quiet, dutiful, and were meant to be completely under the coverture of their alpha. Betas were given slightly more leeway than omegas, but would never be in a leadership position at camp and would only be allowed to mate with other betas. Anyone breaking the strict biological guidelines were brutally punished. The methods were downright inhumane depending on Josiah’s mood or the level of perceived “heresy.” 

You prayed for years under Josiah’s tyranny that you would present as a beta. Sure, you would never lead like an alpha but that never appealed to you anyways. You were caring and you wanted to help people. Plus, maybe if you were a beta they would let you become a doctor. The majority of the group were also betas and many were your age. Being a beta would mean that when the time came, you would have more than enough people to choose from for mating. 

Much to your dismay, you presented as an omega and everything got worse. You didn’t have many friends, mainly Jake and the ladies that lived next door; Miriam and Rachel, but now you were stuck inside the house. Josiah wanted to keep you from sin, so he locked you away “for your own good.” You were forced to dress more conservatively, to eat less to maintain your figure, to pray more, to upkeep the house, to never look an alpha in the eye, etc. All the while, inside the house, you tiptoed around the rage of your dulled mother and the leers that your stepfather gave your developing figure. 

By the time the infected had overwhelmed the dinky gate that protected your community, you had already been planning on escaping for months. Leaping into a car with Miriam, Rachel, Jake, and a few others, calmness washed over you amidst the destruction. You knew that your mother was probably dead, and you had seen your stepfather get his head ripped clean off of shoulders by a massive clicker, but you didn’t feel anything but relief.

The year after you left, although it was hard with the constant running and fighting, was actually the best year of your life. Nobody expected you to be anything, nobody pinched you, nobody made you pray, nobody smacked you if you made eye contact. You were just you. 

“And now look at you,” you chuckled, “stumbling through the woods with no fucking idea where you are going.”

If you didn't find shelter soon, you knew that you would die. You needed to eat, to rest. There was no way you would last another night in the forest.

Your stomach growled violently, practically shaking your frame with the force. You lifted your nose in the air, searching for a whiff of anything. At this point, you were open to eating a squirrel. You shambled through the trees for hours, vision blacking out around the edges as you tried to find any trace of sustenance. Then you heard it: the loud roar of flowing water nearby. 

A new sense of urgency pierced through the delirium and you staggered through the vegetation. The urgency made you clumsy and you faceplanted on the rocky bank. A small whine escaped your mouth as you hauled yourself up onto your hands and knees. Your palms smeared blood across the rocks as you crawled towards the water. Dizziness scrambled your thoughts but you pushed through with your heart leaping in your chest and eyes bleary. Faltering as a wave of nausea and dizziness rocked into you, you lost your balance and crumpled just a few inches from the water.

You whined again, louder this time. Frustration welled up in your chest with your goal so close, yet so far away. As you laid there, contemplating whether or not it would be easier just to give in and die, a breeze came from the trees and carried over the most delicious scent that has ever graced your nostrils.

The smell of sandalwood and bergamot glided over the air and wrapped itself around your senses. You felt your body immediately sag along the shore, your eyelids drooping as a feeling of peace overwhelmed you. You weren't sure what was happening, having never felt this calm in your entire life but you didn't question it and gave in to the peace.

You didn't even flinch when you felt a pair of strong arms turn you over and lift you into the air. The comforting aroma coated the back of your throat and warmed the tips of your fingers, making you snuggle into the warmth pressed against you. You rubbed your face into the source as you felt yourself being whisked away.

A soft hum came from your carrier and you heard a deep comforting voice say, “It’s okay omega, I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to ya darling.” 

You had never fallen asleep so quickly in your entire life.

[wandering-tides]

TNE Fandom where are you?

Sujin shippers where are you?

I have Fics to Rec

I don't really go out of my way to rec fics (and I dunno why I have never done this before on tumblr), but BY GOD, have these two fics taken a special place in my heart.

I ADORE everything about them.

They are both Suho x Hajin ships

But the ship aside, I am so incredibly grateful for the authors to have brought them to life and allowed us to read these absolute GEMS of a fic in this little, little fandom of The Novel's Extra.

Really, y'guys have no idea how giddy and excited I get at every update.

Now, the fic in question?

1. Flowers of Agápē by DescendedGaia (Not sure if the author has a tumblr or any other social media... but lemme know if you want me to tag you :) )

Kim Hajin is a failure. There's no two ways to look at that objective truth. It's a truth that resonates through how others look at and ridicule him. It's a truth that echoes infinitely inside his head, compounding and doubling down on his inadequacies. It's a truth, despite the unconditional love of two parents that soothe but cannot dispel those haunting doubts. Kim Suho is simply perfection. The desperate vessel and ideal of Hajin's "ifs" and wishes. Because Kim Suho, the protagonist of Hajin's novel, is everything Hajin wants to be for his parents and more. But, that same story falls apart at the seams the same way Hajin has lost faith in himself. Yet, as the common narrative dictates, everything begins anew with an innocuous email requesting to remake Hajin's novel, his desperation and desire incarnate.

*** Alternatively, the extremes of Korean culture break Kim Hajin into someone who feels much more acutely, and everything shifts to the left.

This is such a MASTERPIECE. Hajin's characterisation in here is just *chefs kiss*. For me, thats one of the biggest plus points in this fic. Hajin is so much more emotionally sensitive in here and feels far more acutely than in the orignal, as should have been.

This fic has been adressing almost all the points that made me frown at or dislike in the orignal novel and manhwa (and from what I can notice, almost every one too).

This fic is kinda a rewrite of the orignal novel, (tho the author follows the manhwa flow of the story) with added Suho interactions, and such good characterization of Hajin, I fell in love at first read LMAO.

So far, there aren't any major spoilers (unless you read the author end note, where they give their own tid-bits of the chap, which sometimes contain spoilers too, or go to the comment section which may sometimes give you spoilers to the novel lol) If you are caught up with the manhwa, or atleast the season 1 of manhwa, then so far there won't be any spoilers for you!

And I think i'll stop talking about it here cuz if I keep going, I think i'll end up giving in-fic spoilers Lmao

(Oh, btw, this updates every other thursday! So far, it's been consistent in its updates ^^)

So onto the next fic!

2. Mountain To No one by @thek1ngtalks (as k1ng0fn0b0dy on ao3)

There's a number on his smartwatch that leads to nowhere. Suho's gotten in the habit of texting it throughout his day. Today, it texted back.

_ Or, in a world missing Kim Hajin, everyone is worse off. Fixing this starts with (a lot of) text messages between a protagonist and his missing piece.

And Man.... where do I begin? I have SO MUCH to say about this fic but I think i'll end up spoiling the whole fic if I start lmao. It's just so good dammit. Just gonna say that this fic takes after the end of the novel, after the conclusion. Only couple few remembers Hajin in the orignl right? Well, in this fic, nobody does. But Suho is probably (???) Going to be the first to remember... I dunno tbh, the fic is only 2 chaps in (and yes, I really adore it already)

I love what the author did with Suhos character and how he is dealing with the aftermath of... everything. Same goes for Hajin, and I love where they seems to be taking this fic. How they characterizes these two main characters and everything.

Listen, I have a LOT to say but i'll just end up giving spoilers so really go read it for yourself. This is another MASTERPIECE of a fic and I am so grateful for its presence in this little TNE fandom TT

Really, thankyou for such amazing fics authors!!

And that's all from me!! Lol I was so excited while writing this XD (could you tell? Lol)

(I edited this post twice because of all the typos I ended up making in excitement LMAO)

[avelera]

Gif courtesy of @apaethy

I just finished re-watching the first season of Interview with the Vampire because in light of what's going on as of 2.6 of S2, I felt I needed to, because this moment above is driving me crazy.

Why is Armand staring straight at Daniel during Louis' declaration? And why is it that, to me, he almost seems to plead with his eyes for Daniel to get him away from Louis?

My thoughts on the matter:

Doylist reasons (aka, out of universe, production, practical reasons): this is a big reveal that "Rashid" is actually Armand. It makes sense, from that angle, as an acting choice that Armand-no-longer-Rashid would look straight at the camera so we could get a good look at him.

Thing is, it's certainly a choice.

Because I would argue the more logical choice when having one character declare the other is the love of their life is for those characters to look at each other. Even a passing glance, a faint smile, a little bit of heart eyes.

Louis just gave a pretty romantic declaration. Actually, even more haunting as of 2.6, Louis just said out loud that he loves Armand in this straightforward, unambiguous, but frighteningly passive way that he refused to do back in Paris, what Madeleine had to cajole him into saying. Now Louis drops the L word all casual, almost as a challenge, right in Daniel's face??

Daniel Molloy voice: Nuh uh, I don't buy it, not for a second.

Ok, let's get into a meta reason this is a really freakin' weird moment and scene that they chose to use as the final note of Season 1, and therefore I think it's meant to be important and, as of Season 2, I think we're seeing the crux of why it's the end of one season and the set up of the next.

Metatextual reason: Armand is not the fucking love of Louis's life in the books. He's barely a footnote, unless that footnote is labeled, "THE VAMPIRE WHO KILLED CLAUDIA". Louis and Armand's relationship, such as it was, soured immediately after her death. They didn't stick together for decades, from the text they barely stuck together a few years after that. Armand wasn't at the Interview with Daniel (but he did pick up Daniel later, when kidnapping him when Daniel went to investigate Lestat's house and look for evidence to corroborate Louis' story).

So as a book fan, I sat up in my chair and audibly shouted, "What the fuck?" at that line. Because as I'm sure anyone who has read this far knows by now, in the books Louis is not the love of Armand's life.

Daniel is the love of Armand's life.

Daniel is Armand's only fledgling, ever.

So not only is there a weird declarative quality to the almost nonsensical (to book readers) statement that Armand is the love of Louis's life-- I don't know how else to explain it except it's like having a revival of Romeo and Juliet where they didn't die and Romeo's early girlfriend Rosaline show up to say that Romeo is the love of her life in Juliet's face. Do you see what I mean? Daniel/Armand is Romeo and Juliet, Louis the temporary fling. Having Rosaline tell Juliet that Romeo is her love would give a similar level of dissonance as I got hearing Louis/Armand was a thing over and above Daniel/Armand.

So to go back to Armand's creepy eye contact here (as if he has any other kind).

Watsonian Reason (aka, in-universe, what the story is going for): We are setting up the plot that becomes much more apparent in S2: Daniel was invited to Dubai to be the wrecking ball in Louis/Armand's relationship.

Which means the big canon divergence moments from the book are:

1. Louis and Armand didn't break up right after Paris, but stayed a couple for several decades longer.

2. Regardless of whether or not the Devil's Minion happened already (or if it's going to happen later in this story), Armand didn't turn Daniel into a vampire soon after meeting him a few years post-Interview with the Vampire. That event got pushed back.

My money is on Armand and Daniel had their fling but Armand refused to turn him. It's a fairly logical canon divergence beat because Armand didn't want to turn Daniel in the books either so in this universe, he just actually followed through and did the responsible thing.

But, I think Armand pined. And pined. And pined.

Whether or not Armand is Alice turning down Daniel's proposal (I at this point disagree with the theory) or if he was just stalking Daniel closely enough to read Alice's thoughts in that moment, he clearly has been keeping tabs on Daniel.

In my opinion, Armand is finally done with the relationship with Louis.

The interview is meant to passively accomplish these things:

Remind Louis how much he loves Lestat.

Remind Louis how much he loves Claudia and by extension if/when it "slips out" just how culpable Armand actually was (as the mastermind, not a bystander) for her death, it will give Louis the impetus to finally leave.

Bring Daniel back into their life. Because whether or not he'll admit it to himself, Armand has been pining for him over Louis for a while now.

I've kind of already explored this in another post but the more I watch of S2 and re-watch of S1, the more certain I am that this is Armand's actual goal. The pining looks he keeps shooting Daniel's way, the way Daniel seems to lose his train of thought whenever he looks at Armand, the palpable tension between them...

Basically, Romeo and Juliet are getting back together soon. We just need to get Rosaline out of the picture first, and that's why Romeo is having an interview that digs up what a shitty boyfriend he was to Rosaline so that Rosaline will break up with him first so he can get back with Juliet.

[raplinesmoon]

Après Moi, Le Deluge (JHS x F!Reader)

pairing: Hoseok x afab!reader genres/au/rating: angst, smut, some fluff, mafia au, sort of arranged marriage au, exes au, 18+ summary: It was one night. One night where Hoseok sought refuge from the storm outside, from the life he led, from the past that haunted him. And where else does fate lead him but back into your arms?

word count: 8.2k

warnings: the mafia, mentions minor character death, cursing, smoking, alcohol use, use of weapons, strained relationships with parents, mental health issues, mentions threats against people Hoseok cares about, brief, non-graphic depiction of blood and injuries, breakups, makeups, a cameo by one Xu Minghao, Hoseok and OC are both very closed off and bad at communicating, Hoseok is lowkey an asshole for most of this, happy-ish ending, smut warnings: making out, fingering (fem receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, marking, teeny bit of cockwarming

a/n: Hello it is me, profusely apologising because there is no reason this should have taken this long to write, other than I had the worst case of writer's block ever, but I missed Hoseok and I needed to see this through. This fic is set in the same universe as Doom Boy, my Namjoon mafia fic! You don't necessarily have to read Doom Boy to read this, but it may help some of the moments mentioned here make sense! The title is a reference to a famous saying by King Louis XV of France, or if you're me, season 1 episode 11 of The Originals. I hope you all enjoy <3

listen to the playlist here!

The rain slams down on the pavement, rendering the soles of Hoseok’s shoes even more sodden than they’d previously been. A cold, sticky feeling settles across his spine, and he heaves for breath, wishing he could just stop and take a break. But he can’t. He has to keep moving. Resisting the urge to shiver and warm himself up, he rounds the corner.

The day had started off normal enough. Hoseok had been assigned patrol duty for the day by Namjoon, a task he was more than familiar with. After the collapse of the Kim empire and his father’s death, Namjoon had returned to clean up the family business. And he was doing a damn good job at it, training the younger ones like Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook in how to run a business.

But there was more to this than a business, and Namjoon knew that well enough. Someone had to be around to air out the dirty laundry, to clean up the streets. And who better for the job than Hoseok? 

He was used to it anyway, more comfortable around knives and guns than he’d ever been around people who weren’t Namjoon, Yoongi, or Seokjin. It was partly the reason he’d been sent out tonight, to monitor the slimy activities that took place under the cover of night. 

Yet sometimes, the downpour got the best of Hoseok. He hadn’t been expecting the Choi cronies to spot him, much less for them to be armed. Luckily they were as thick-skulled as Hoseok expected them to be, and he’d been able to craft a quick escape. For the time being.

But it wouldn’t last for long. Hoseok knew the men would be on his tail all night, and as much as he wanted to call for backup, he didn’t feel like bothering Namjoon, Yoongi, or their families, at this time of night. He wouldn’t have had a problem bothering Seokjin, but that fucker had run the moment he’d shot up Namjoon’s father. 

Looking around, he falters. The buildings around him loom ominously, stretching much taller than he’s used to, the lights from the highest floors creating artificial stars against the cloudy backdrop of the sky. Hoseok gathers that he must be in the swanky part of town. He scoffs, knowing from personal experience the rich were no better than the mobs and gangs they pretended to look down upon, licking at their bootstraps whenever the necessity arose.

Still, he decides it’s better to take cover. He spots the sleeping security guard from outside one of the buildings, and slips in, shaking the raindrops from his hair. Making his way to the elevators at the end of the lobby, his mind ran with plans of how he’d clean up the mess with the Choi men in a way that Namjoon would approve of. 

Which is why he misses the other person entering the elevator at the same time as him, instead collapsing against the railing and letting out a loud sigh, rubbing at his eyes.

“H-Hoseok?” the voice that calls out to him is quiet, barely above a whisper. But its familiarity sends a chill down Hoseok’s spine. It’s a voice he thought he’d never hear again.

His eyes open slowly, and he sees his shocked reflection mirrored in the ones directly across from him, eyes that he’d never been able to forget. The way they look at him now is the same way they’d been the last time he saw you, on a similarly cloudy day.

The eyes of his former fiancée.

The doors of the elevator screech shut, the sound doing nothing to drown out the pounding of your heart. The soft tiny plops of raindrops echo on the grey floor, falling from Hoseok’s hair as he freezes at the sound of your voice.

You suck in a breath, lungs desperately searching for air, unable to squeak out anything beyond his name. Brows furrowing, you check him for any signs of injury, relieved when you find nothing but his blank eyes blinking back at you. You didn’t have to ask him where he’d been tonight. Both of you already knew.

It infuriates you that even after everything, after all this time, he still manages to have this effect on you. You hate how you can’t take your eyes off the lean curve of his neck, or the tiny mole above his heart-shaped smile.

A chill runs down your spine, despite having never stepped foot out in the rain. 

“Why are you…” your throat feels heavy, struggling to get the words out, to ask him why he ended up here of all places. Especially when you made it clear you never wanted to see him again after the last time.

“Choi’s men were tailing me, I had to get them off my back,” he barks, immediately regretting his harsh tone when he looks into your weary eyes, on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry,” he adds on, more gently this time. “If I’d have known, I would never…”

Never what? Never managed to infiltrate the one place you thought you could be free of him, from the past the two of you shared?

Your shoulders slump against the panel, and you realize you’d never pressed the button to go up, too consumed by his presence. Finally managing to muster up the focus, you turn away, hearing the elevator creak to life.

“You’re always sorry. How can I be sure that this time, you mean it?”

Hoseok is annoyed. First of all, this damn elevator is taking nearly too long to go anywhere, and he longs for escape from this metallic box that’s imprisoning you both. Second of all, your words cut at him, sharper than any knife and hotter than any bullet any of Choi’s men could have sent his way tonight.

As far as he remembers, you’d been the one to end it. You’d been the one to walk away from your arrangement.

He doesn’t know why he grits his teeth, biting down to combat the throbbing pain in his temples. You were supposed to be gone, your goodbye delivered in the same way the designer bags and packages piled up at your doorstep - neat, polished, shallow, the ties that had brought you together unraveling before they’d even had a chance to be joined properly. 

Unfinished business. That’s what you were. And Hoseok hated unfinished business. But somehow, he’d never managed to hate you. You’d never given him a fair chance.

. . .

Hoseok shrugged the wife beater over his head with a grunt, immediately turning around to see if he’d woken up his sleeping companion, but she remained unfazed, her soft snores echoing into the pillow. 

He lets his eyes linger over her body appreciatively one last time before he slips on his leather jacket and is out the door. For a brief moment, his hand twitches, yearning to reach into his pocket and call Namjoon for old times’ sake, detailing every last detail of his lascivious romp. The thought is abandoned immediately, Hoseok’s mood souring at the thought of his former best friend. Namjoon had no trouble leaving all of them behind, so why should he even bother? Instead, he reaches into his other pocket, his frenzied emotions finally calming down when he pulls out the lighter. Ducking under an awning, he checks his surroundings for anything suspicious before affirming that the coast is clear, lighting up and taking a drag. The smoke drifts away on the nighttime breeze, and Hoseok follows, roaming the city streets. 

It’s lonely at this hour, not another soul in sight, but Hoseok prefers it that way. Gone are the days when he and his friends would run through the city, stealing cars and honking horns at everyone for fun. Now, shit had hit the fan big time, and there was no room for fun anymore. With Namjoon gone, Hoseok, along with Seokjin and Yoongi, had been sucked into the tangled web of duties he’d left behind, each stepping up in their own way.

Holding a gun in his hands for the first time had been a sobering experience for Hoseok. It rattled him that if he pressed down on the trigger, so many things could change in a split second. He’d heard the higher-ups in the organization rave with glee about how much fun it was putting the city’s other families in line, Namjoon’s father at the head of them. And for a brief moment, Hoseok understood what it was that Namjoon had run away from. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still pissed off about it though. 

His lips turn up in a smile when he takes in the graffiti on the building in front of him, thinking back to his younger, more rebellious self, before faltering. Someone else was there. 

He wonders if you’re cold, the thin satin gown doing nothing to protect you from the chill, and he wants to laugh at the contrast between his well-worn leather jacket and the jewels dripping from your ears. They must cost a few thousands of dollars, money he’d never had in his pocket. His eyes scan around for someone, anyone – a boyfriend, or a husband maybe. But you’re alone.

Nobility has never been Hoseok’s forte - Namjoon and Seokjin had always been the womanizers, and poor Yoongi had been in love with the same woman for over ten years, but he clears his throat, prompting you to turn around, eyes widening at your company.

If he catches a glimpse of unshed tears in your eyes, he doesn’t say anything. 

“Kids these days, huh? They’ll do anything to cause a little chaos,” he quips, a sinking feeling building up in his chest when you don’t respond.

“Ma’am,” he grapples with whether he should ask for your name, “do you need me to walk you home?”

“Did you read it?” your voice is quieter than he expects, yet he draws closer, wanting to hear more of it. Coming to stand beside you, he takes in the captivating features of your face, made all the more alluring by the shadows cast across them.

Following your gaze, he looks at the mural on the wall. A giant wave, Hosukai-style, crashing into a set of words. “After me, the flood,” your voice whispers, and Hoseok feels a rush of emotion at the way you say it, his mind circling back to everything that had happened in the past few years - the dark cloud that had settled over all their lives with Namjoon leaving, the city’s underbelly coming to life, crawling out of the woodwork. 

“I have to go,” you interrupt him, heels clacking against the pavement, before Hoseok’s gaze turns sharply on you, the desperation in his eyes begging you not to go. Come sunrise, he’d be forced back into the same grim routine, but right now, it felt nice, standing here with you.

“Will you be okay getting home alone?” he asks, grappling for any chance to prolong the moment.

“My driver is around the corner,” you tell him. “Thank you for keeping me company, –”

“Hoseok,” he fills you in, his chest aching with the desire to ask for your own name, but you’re already gone.

. . .

Hoseok wakes up the next morning to the rattling of the blinds, the sunlight causing him to immediately shut his eyes and bite back a groan. There was only one person who’d have access to his apartment at this hour – and exploit it.

“Eomma?” he rasps, burrowing his head further into the sheets. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you forget Hoseok-ah? Hurry up and get dressed, everyone’s waiting! You have five minutes.”

Forget what? His mother’s fussing continues in the background as she leafs through his closet, no doubt trying to find him a suitable outfit amongst the many pairs of ripped denim and oversized shirts he prefers on a day-to-day basis. Hoseok wracks his brain, trying to remember what could have called for such an occasion, but comes up empty, his mother’s stern warning echoing in his ears. 

As per usual, if it had anything to do with the organization, he’d do best not to ignore it.

Slipping on the stark white shirt and tie she’d chosen, the fabric itches against his skin, and he rakes his fingers through his hair, attempting to comb the mess into something somewhat presentable. He’s sure there was little to be done about the bags under his eyes, and the faint smell of tobacco emanating from him, and hoped that whoever these important guests were, they wouldn’t catch onto his late-night activities from the previous day. 

Stumbling into the hallway, Hoseok hears the faint chatter of voices, his father’s bellowing laugh a stark contrast to his mother’s delicate titter, and is immediately confused. Conversations with the bosses of the organization weren’t usually so… enthusiastic. 

When he rounds the corner to his living room, he stops in his tracks. Sitting next to his mother and father is another older couple he doesn’t recognize. They reek of wealth that his family could never even imagine, he notes, the polished Italian leather of the man’s shoes and the older woman’s massive diamond ring speaking for themselves. But he could honestly care less. Because to their left side, sitting on his favorite armchair, is you. The woman from in front of the mural. You’re clad in a simple sundress today, but you still manage to be nothing short of breathtaking against the backdrop of the sun’s rays. 

“There you are, Hoseok!” his father beckons him over jovially, but Hoseok remains frozen. “This is Mr. and Mrs. ____, and their daughter ____.”

Hoseok’s turns his gaze to his father, watching him recoil at the sharpness present in his son’s expression, a thousand unspoken questions lingering on his lips as to why these people were here, what purpose they had in his home, his space.

“We’d like for the two of you to get to know each other,” your mother speaks up with a smile so wide, he’d assume it’d been plastered onto her face. 

“Why?” he finally manages to whistle out in between grit teeth, looking only at you. But you don’t meet his eyes. Instead, your gaze is looking out his window, at the city beyond, the same loneliness from last night ever present in your eyes. 

“Because,” his father continues uncertainly, fidgeting the glass of wine in his hands, “___ is going to be your wife.”

You can feel Hoseok’s eyes glaring into the back of your head as he follows you wordlessly down the hallway. Moments pass before you come to a stop outside your apartment, and you hear the faint stumble of Hoseok’s boots as he stops unexpectedly in his tracks. His warm breath fans against the back of your neck for a brief moment before he straightens with a grunt, and you resist the urge to shiver, despite having never stepped foot into the rain.

The lock clicks, and he follows you inside. You can hear him rustle behind you as he struggles to remove his coat and boots, but you look straight ahead, hoping the darkness can hide how your fingernails are digging into your palm. 

“I won’t stay long,” his low voice breaks the silence. “Just until the storm passes.”

“Please,” you manage to muster up your most polite sounding voice. “Have a seat. I can get you something, maybe some water, o-or a cup of tea…” 

You want to curse your voice for wobbling in his presence, hating the way he still affected you even after all this time apart. Your brain bades you to walk away instinctively, and so you pad into the kitchen, wanting to put distance in between you and Hoseok so he can’t hear the rapid fluttering of your heart. The noise pounds in your ears as you rattle around in the cupboards, cursing when you realized you’d forgotten to turn on the light. It seemed embarrassing to do it now, and so you reach aimlessly, looking for some coffee. 

The pot bubbles, and in mere moments, you’re clutching two steaming mugs, finding your way back onto the living room. Hoseok has settled himself onto your couch, taking extra care not to rest his soaked shirt against the back of it, instead hunched over and dangling an unlit cigarette from his fingertips.

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you’d be okay with me…” he gestures to it, twirling it around in his fingers. “I know you don’t like the smell.”

You’re unsure whether to be touched that he remembers, or uneasy at the way he says it so monotonously, as if you’d still judge him for something so mundane when so much else had happened in between you.

“Here,” you set down the coffee in front of him, taking the seat directly opposite. “It’ll help take the edge off.”

The warm liquid burns your throat as you rush to take a sip, and you nearly sputter trying to keep it down. Over the rim of your cup, Hoseok remains frozen, his own mug steaming and untouched. His dark eyes bore into you, studying your face, and you feel your cheeks begin to burn.

If he notices the bags under your eyes, he says nothing. The same way he says nothing when he probably remarks at your simplistic clothes and lack of jewelry, a far cry from the expensive dresses and diamonds he’d been used to seeing you in. 

“Were you about to go out?” Hoseok asks, and the question catches you off guard. “I’m sorry if I stopped you from going somewhere.”

“Or meeting someone.” The last part is a hushed whisper, mumbled underneath his breath, in the hopes that you wouldn’t catch him. But you had. You wish he’d stop apologizing. It makes you feel guilty when you shouldn’t be, like he’s trying and you’re shutting him out, when in reality it’d been the exact opposite. 

All of a sudden, your phone buzzes to life, a text message lighting up the screen. You freeze when you see who it’s from, quickly snatching your phone and cursing in your head. Minghao was a friend of a friend, the two of you running into each other a number of times over the past couple of weeks, before he’d finally plucked up the courage to ask you for a coffee date.

You’d told him you’d think about it, and now here he was, lighting up your phone to ask you about your decision. Of course, how was he supposed to know that the reason you’d been holding off was the very man sitting in your living room, whom you’d almost married, and still couldn’t seem to let go?

Clutching your phone to your chest, you turn it to silent, setting it down beside you. Hoseok’s eyes are alight with curiosity, his lips turned up in a faint smirk, as though he’s remembering his statement from earlier. 

You take another sip, willing the caffeine to give you some strength, to rein in the bare threads of this conversation back to your control.

“How are your parents?”

Hoseok is taken aback by the question. He hadn’t expected it from you. There had once been a time where you’d been bright eyed and eager, wanting to know everything about him, bombarding him with question after question every time you were together. And yet somehow, he’d never managed to give you the time of day, always giving brusque answers and half-hearted excuses that there were other things that needed his attention.

He knew it was just a poor attempt to fill the silence, but his heart lurches at the thought that there’s so much you don’t know anymore. Namjoon coming back, Seokjin running away, the life that Hoseok knew being turned inside out. What’s more unsettling is the fact that he yearns to tell you, despite knowing he’d lost the privilege to do so.

“They’re okay. Doing well,” he lies through his teeth. “We all are. How about yours?”

He thinks it’s an innocent question, but he watches your fingers blanch as you grip the mug so tight, he thinks it’ll break. 

“I wouldn’t know,” you whisper out softly, and his heart stops. “I haven’t spoken to them since– you know.”

Hoseok feels dizzy at your confession. What do you mean you hadn’t spoken to them? Suddenly, it all begins to make sense in his head. The fact that he hadn’t expected to run into you tonight, because he hadn’t expected you to live alone, with your austere clothes and hair tossed up into a messy bun. It was so different from the woman he’d known, the dazzling one he’d written off as hollow in his mind, the one he was incapable of forming a real relationship with. 

And here you were, living the exact opposite of the cozy life he’d painted for you in his head. He thought you’d be fine, that you’d move on, your family offering you up to the next prospect that came along. And you’d accept them, like you’d accepted Hoseok with all his flaws, not caring that he could barely give you what you deserved.

His thoughts flash back to the last conversation you had, tears streaming down your face as you sobbed.

I can’t live like this anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, and he watches annoyance flash across your face. He knows he’s done nothing but apologize this entire time, but it probably isn’t even worth a damn. No consolation would ever make up for losing someone that meant everything to you. He’d known that when Namjoon had run away.

“Hey,” you set the mug down, leaning over the table. For a brief second, he sees your hand reach out blindly in the darkness, almost as if it’s searching for his, but you withdraw just as quickly. “I’m okay. I really am.”

“I wish you’d stop pretending,” Hoseok blurts out, and he watches you jolt in surprise. “Why do you always have to pretend like everything’s okay, like nothing affects you? Is it the society training? Or do you really just not care about what happened at all?”

You chew the inside of your cheek, mulling over Hoseok’s words in your head.

“The same way you can pull the trigger on someone and be able to lie in your bed and fall asleep,” you seethe, a venom that Hoseok has never heard in your voice. 

“I knew who you were Hoseok. I knew what kind of man I was marrying. You think it didn’t affect me? You think I wasn’t scared out of my wits because of what you did, what other people could do to you?” 

You rise up, palms quivering as you open and close them, strolling over to the window. Hoseok watches your shoulders shake before they slump completely, and he knows that you’re crying.

He’s up before he can stop himself, feet ready to walk out the door. He’d fucked up the moment he’d stayed in the elevator with you, all the ugly feelings between you coming to a head, ones he’d struggled so hard to keep buried. 

But his body betrays him, instead leading him right behind. He pauses until he’s just close enough that if he reaches out, he’d be able to grab your arm and turn you around to face him. But he waits instead.

“I did what I did because I realized I was chasing a ghost,” you huff out, resignation in your tone. “I wanted you to be someone you weren’t. I wanted you to care so badly. But you didn’t. I don’t want any part in whatever you’re caught up in, Hoseok. Whatever has a hold on you so badly that you couldn’t even look beyond your cynicism to give me a chance.”

“I just want to survive.”

Hoseok grips the bathroom sink, knuckles turning white. His cell phone clatters on the counter beside him and he has to keep from heaving. This whole thing was a mess – no one had counted on Namjoon coming back. Even less so on him refusing to take up his father’s mantle. And so the threats continued – the words from the anonymous phone call still ringing in his ear, your name echoing across the line.

While he didn’t know what he felt for you, or whether he could even marry you, Hoseok knew you were an innocent person. You didn’t deserve to be the victim of your parents’ greed, them using you to bury their secrets in the hands of even more powerful people. You deserved gardens full of flowers and meals together every night, not coming home to an empty bed. Or a fiancé who couldn’t spare a moment during the entire night to even dance with you. 

He’s so lost in his brooding that he doesn’t hear the door the click behind him, the soft tapping of heels on the floor coming up behind him. 

“Is something wrong?” you ask him gently, and he feels the bristle of your hand on his jacket. 

So much was wrong. You couldn’t even begin to understand. 

“It’s fine,” he clears his throat, straightening up to adjust his jacket. “I’ll need to leave soon. I can have the car stay behind for you.”

The farther away he got from you, the better. That way no one could hurt you – or him. 

“I can go with you,” your voice echoes from beside him, “I was getting tired anyway.”

Hoseok turns to face you, watching you recoil at the red rimming his eyes, the bags underneath them becoming even more prominent in the dim lighting of the bathroom.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to reach for the single strand of hair that has managed to escape your polished bun, but he watches you suck in a breath, lips parting in surprise.

Before he knows it, your face is drawing in closer, and he can smell the rosé on your breath. Your lips barely ghost against his, and he has to fight every nerve ending not to grab your hand and run away from here, somewhere where he wasn’t Hoseok, and you weren’t ____, and you didn’t need protecting from everything around you – most of all him. 

His paralysis slowly melts away and he’s pushing you away without realizing, the door to the bathroom suddenly materialising in front of him. 

“Like I said,” he doesn’t bother turning around, knowing his heart would twist at whatever expression he found on your face. “I’ll have the car stay behind for you.”

Before you can wrestle with the weight of your confession to Hoseok, a hand is clamping over your mouth. Caught in a silent scream, you turn your eyes to see Hoseok lifting a finger to his lips, willing you to stay quiet. And that’s when you hear them. The voices.

Raucous laughter echoes through the hallway, tinged with malevolent glee. The air around you feels cold, a breeze at the base of your spine, and you instinctively curl into Hoseok.

“Come out, come out,” the disembodied voice cackles from the hallway. “Are you hiding from us, Jung? Found some poor rich girl to use as a body shield?”

Your hand seizes Hoseok’s wrist clamped against your mouth, nails digging into his arm, the fear taking over. Slowly, his wrist lowers, slipping to take your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?” 

He’s so quiet you almost can’t tell he’s said it at all. You nod reluctantly, eyes continuing to dart to the door.

“Go hide underneath the bed. Lock the door. I may or may not come back but please stay inside. Don’t come looking for me.”

His voice is clipped, the faint hint of nerves colouring his tone, but his eyes are filled with a resoluteness you know all too well. You’d spent the better part of over a year staring into them, hoping they’d look back. And now they finally were. 

“Be safe.” Your voice comes out louder than you’d intended, but there’s no anger in Hoseok’s expression. All he does is nod, and then you turn, stumbling down the hallway to your room, never bothering to look back until you hear the door click behind you.

. . .

Hoseok’s heart pounds in his chest, a strange pain settling in his ribs – he never expected to be in this position again. His sense of duty had always been his biggest downfall – and while you were no longer his, he owed it to you to make sure he gave you exactly what you’d asked him for – the chance to survive, to come out on the other side of this. That’s why he had to settle this once and for all.

Choi’s cronies linger at the other end of the hallway, too dumb to notice Hoseok slipping out of your door, reaching for the revolver he’d kept hidden in his coat pocket. A chill settles in his bones as he runs his fingers over the metal.

The brief events of the night play over in his head – the rain pounding against the pavement, the ding of the elevator, the now-cold mug of coffee that sat on your coffee table. And then there was you – your eyes, the softness of your skin, the faint smell of gardenias that lingered on your skin.

And it hits Hoseok that while he was very much alive – he’d been in mourning. Mourning for the friendships he’d never be able to recover, for the youth that had been taken away from him. But most of all, Hoseok’s heart mourns for the relationship he’d never gotten to have with you. The glass walls he’d so carefully put up around himself shatter, making way for a torrential deluge. 

After me, the flood.

He remembers the first night you’d met, how he’d been drawn to you without even trying, the portrait of the wave. He remembers the months that passed afterwards, where you drew closer to him and he drew back. He remembers the regret he’d buried deep in his heart for not kissing you back the night of the gala, not knowing he’d never get another chance.

But most of all, he remembers the somber expression on your face the day you’d ended things, pressing the engagement ring back into his hands, the very same ring that was still sitting in the first drawer of his nightstand. 

Choi’s men finally perk up, noticing Hoseok’s solitary figure lingering at the end of the hallway, smirks twisting on their grotesque faces. A shot rings out, and Hoseok thinks of you now, hiding under your bed. And then he charges.

The alleyway was grim at this time of day, the sunlight barely able to reach beyond the towering skyscrapers, the clouds casting everything in grey. Rain fell softly from the sky. You clutch your coat tighter around you, unable to stop looking at the mural of the wave.

So much had changed since you’d first seen it. And yet it was still the same.

You know Hoseok from the thud of his boots against the pavement, coming up beside you. His head turns, an eyebrow raised in your direction, wondering why you’d asked to meet him here of all places.

You avoid his eyes, fingers clasping around the blue velvet in your pocket. His eyes widen with surprise when he sees the box, confusion marring his handsome face. 

A knot forms in your chest when you watch the confusion turn into alarm as you press the box into his hand, the dazzling diamond no longer on your left finger.

“I don’t understand,” he grunts, breath visible in the cold air.

“We can’t do this anymore, Hoseok. I can’t do this. I can’t live like this.”

“Was it something that I did?” he questions you, desperation creeping into his voice.

You scoff, watching him flinch, pain on his face. 

“No, it’s the opposite. It’s what you haven’t ever been able to do. It’s been an entire year, Hoseok. I’ve watched you answer every phone call that comes your way, disappear into the night to do god knows what, run whenever your friends call. And in that entire time, have you ever thought about us? About the future?”

You take a deep breath.

“I know that neither of us chose this, but Hoseok, we were engaged. Did that mean anything to you?”

He squares his shoulders, fists clenching at his sides, a tick in his jaw.

“You don’t understand. I-I’m not good for you, ___. I dont think I’ll ever be. There’s too much that’s happened, too much I’ve lost. But please don’t walk away like this.

“I thought it’d be enough,” you whisper, and Hoseok freezes. You didn’t know he’d heard you.

“I thought me loving you would be enough for the both of us. But it’s not. I need more. I need someone who I know will come home to me every night. But what I need even more than that, is for you to let me walk away so I can breathe again. So I can be myself.”

Your eyes are just as sad as the first time Hoseok saw them, and all of a sudden, you remark at how stagnant the two of you had been together.

“Hoseok please, I know I can’t ask you to do it if you love me, but if you’ve ever cared about me, even the tiniest bit, let me go.”

You watch him open the box, gazing at the ring. Moments pass by before he slips it into his own pocket, his eyes flitting to the wave as he gives you a small smile, the most genuine one you’d ever seen.

“Goodbye, ____. 

Hoseok’s fist rattles against the door, before he slumps over, heaving for breath. The pain in his side licks at him like the flames of a fire. He hisses when he presses a hand to it, eyes widening when it comes away covered in blood. Those fuckers had managed to get him. Shit.

His eyes are about to close when the door springs open, the wide eyes of Kim Namjoon taking in his battered figure. 

“Hobi, what the fuck?” Namjoon seethes, offering him an arm and pulling him inside. Slinging an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder, the two of them hobble to Namjoon’s kitchen, the burning in Hoseok chest causing him to let out a loud groan.

“Hyun is sleeping,” Namjoon chastises him, and Hoseok bites his tongue, remembering that this Namjoon was dealing with a pregnant wife and a toddler. “You gonna tell me what the hell happened, or do I have to force it out of you?”

“I made a mistake, Namjoon. I went somewhere I shouldn’t have tonight. I fucked up, but I-I didn’t mean to I swear…”

Hoseok feels himself shake as the words pour out, the ruined mission the furthest thing from his mind. He tells Namjoon everything – from being tailed to running into to you, to how he’d left, not knowing whether you were okay or not. 

“That was a dick move,” Namjoon huffs.

“Excuse me?” Hoseok looks up at his best friend, who looks more pissed off than he’s ever seen him. 

“I said what I said. That was a dick move, just leaving her like that.”

“I don’t need a lecture on running away from you, Namjoon-ah.”

Namjoon wipes away the blood on his side, and Hoseok bites his tongue at the sting of the alcohol, before slumping into the chair next to him. 

“You’re an idiot, Jung Hoseok. You’ve been so afraid of letting yourself feel things for so long, and I know it’s because you think that everyone around you is going to leave, or that you’ll lose them. But I’m telling you right now, that’s the stupidest thing you could ever do.”

“You have to let yourself just be, Hobi. Just let go. Enjoy things - life, your friends, your family. Be open to the possibility of love. It’s the only thing that can keep the darkness away.”

Namjoon’s voice shrinks when he says the last line, and Hoseok knows his friend is far off in his own mind, battling the demons that plague him. 

“I think I’m too far gone for that, Namjoon,” Hoseok tells him. “Maybe some of us weren’t meant for happiness. Maybe some of us needed to make sacrifices so others could live the lives they wanted to.”

“That’s a damn lie if I’ve ever heard one, Hoseok.” Namjoon striaghtens, rising up from the chair. “I know you’ve been angry at me for leaving, for keeping you all in the dark. I know how much it hurts to not be able to share your happiest moments with people you love. And I’m sorry for that. But you have a chance to change things.”

“Listen Hobi,” Namjoon crouches down to his level. “I want to be the best man at your wedding – I want to be there for you in all the ways you didn’t get to do for me. This is my way of making amends, but you need to fix whatever this is between you two.”

“What makes you think she’ll even take me back? I was awful to her… god, she didn’t deserve that Joon. She deserves so much better.”

“Do you love her?” Namjoon asks him, and Hoseok is shocked when he doesn’t even have to pause to think about it. He wants to start over, to be by your side, to have a chance to love you properly this time around. 

“Second chances come when you least expect them, Hobi. Think about what would have happened if you hadn’t stepped out into the rain last night. And don’t let it happen again.”

The knock at the door startles you, your phone clattering to the floor. Swearing under your breath, you pick it up, perusing the message from Minghao once again. He was nothing if not persistent. And Hoseok was never coming back. You’d convinced yourself of that.

It’d been over a week since he’d left you that night - the promise to keep you safe burrowing its way into your heart. And then radio silence. You’d heard the gunshots in the hallway, but when you’d opened the door, no one was there, the only evidence of the showdown being the faint splatters of blood on the wall. When the police had questioned you, you’d left Hoseok’s name out of it – those words echoing in your mind, instilling a false sense of loyalty in you.

Why did you think things would be different this time around? It’d been foolish to assume that Hoseok thought anything more of you. But you couldn’t forget the look in his eyes, the gentle touches, the way he’d promise he would never let anything happen to you, and you fell for him all over again.

Throwing your phone aside, you grumble as you make your way to the door, making a mental note to respond to Minghao later, agreeing to the date.

Swinging it open, you freeze when you see who’s on the other end. Hoseok, looking worse for wear with bruises on his jaw and a nasty cut on his forehead, nervously twirling a tiny bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You’re dumbfounded - unable to speak as you take him in, his dark, inquisitive eyes gazing into your shocked ones. 

“You better let me in, ____,” he says with a grin. “Or the neighbours are gonna think I did something really bad this time.”

Wordlessly, you open the door to allow him to enter, watching as he slips off his coat and shoes, an exact repeat of a week ago. You watch him, trying to open your mouth and say something, ask him anything, but nothing will come out. 

“These are for you,” Hoseok nearly shoves the bouquet in your hands and you watch him rub at the back of his neck, his ears reddening.

“Are you okay Hoseok?” you finally manage to ask him, setting the flowers on your coffee table. Your concern wins out over your confusion once again, but the whole scene is odd – him, smiling in your apartment, the late afternoon sunlight casting half his angular face in a mysterious shadow.

“Just a little nick to my side,” he lifts his shirt up, your eyes widening at the bandages on his abdomen. “But actually, I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay since the day I let you walk away, and I can’t live with it anymore.”

You take a step back, unable to breathe. The space in between you seems to have lessened considerably, and you can make out every delicate detail of his face. Dizzy, you put some distance in between the two of you.

“Everything hurts, ___. It hurts because I look at you and I feel like I can’t breathe anymore, knowing how much pain I put you through. It hurts knowing that you’re so kind, so understanding of someone like me, when I don’t deserve it at all. And what hurts the most is knowing that I love you, and I’ve been lying to myself this entire time because I’m afraid you’ll leave just like everyone else, but I lost you anyway.”

Hoseok’s voice cracks on the last words, and you watch him sway, gripping onto your counter for support.

“I thought it was just me this entire time,” you finally manage to look him in the eyes, tears spilling out of your own. “I thought I was crazy, because ever since you walked out that door a week ago, all I’ve been doing is waiting for you to come back.”

“I’m here,” Hoseok closes the gap between you, arms wrapping around you. You breathe in the faint scent of tobacco on his leather jacket, mixed with the spice of his cologne. “And I’m not leaving. Not this time.”

You grip his lapels, before your arms come up to wrap around his neck, running your fingers through the soft hair at his nape. 

“What if it’s not different this time around?” you whisper into his neck. “What if nothing changes?”

“What if it is?” his low voice rumbles into your hair. “Can you trust me, ___? One more time?”

You take his hand in yours, bringing it to your chest, his lips parting in awe at the fluttering of your heartbeat.

“Only you can do that to me,” you say softly, a smile gracing your lips. 

Before you know it, Hoseok’s lips are crashing against yours, and you can feel him release a euphoric sigh, groaning into your mouth. It’s slow, tentative in the way he waits for your body to respond, never pushing more than you’re comfortable with. Eventually, even the small bit of distance in between you becomes too much to bear. You card your fingers into his hair, pulling slightly at the strands, warmth blossoming in your chest.

It feels too short when he pulls away all too soon, lips tinged with red and eyes dark with something that sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve wanted to do that ever since the night of the gala,” he rasps, warmth blooming in your chest at his confession. “You were—, I mean you still are, breathtaking.”

You can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his pulse point right there below your fingertips, and you reach for his hand, watching his entire body soften at your touch. 

“Come with me,” you ask him, eyes turning down the hallway to your bedroom. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for. 

Hoseok tries to ignore the rapid rushing of blood in his ears, his focus narrowing to your head resting on his shoulder, the two of you looking out at the city together for the last little while from your bed. It’s somewhere he never imagined he’d be, but he’d felt the ice around his heart melt the moment he’d finally kissed you for real, warmth filling his veins.

And despite relishing in your presence, it was spiking to a fever pitch. He’d tasted you, and now he couldn’t get enough. All it takes is a brief moment for you to look in his eyes, and he’s pulling you into him once again, mouth hard on yours, unable to resist the desire for more, more, more. 

You whine into his mouth, hands fisting at the edge of his shirt, struggling to pull it over his head. He uses one hand to pin both arms behind you, reaching over with the other to hike your dress up to your stomach, finally peeling it off, and you lie back, eyes alight with desire as you take him in. 

He kisses you again, his lean body hovering over yours, hands roaming everywhere – your arms, up your neck, and on your thighs. He inches higher and higher, fingers ghosting over your core.

“Hoseok please,” you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulder blades. “I can’t wait anymore.”

You part your thighs for him, and he wastes no time, pulling your soaked underwear to the side and dipping his fingers into your arousal. He presses another hard kiss to your lips, catching your moans in his mouth while he works you open, leaving you trembling underneath him.

You whine when his fingers leave you, clenching around nothing, coming up to cup your exposed breasts in both hands while he licks and sucks at your nipples.

“Fuck,” he groans against your chest. “How are you so perfect? How are you even mine?”

His voice breaks, and you mouth at his jaw, mirroring his actions until purple bruises begin to bloom in the spots where your lips previously were.

“I’m yours,” you nip at his bottom lip. “Whether you like it or not.”

“Believe me,” he smirks. “I like it. I like it a lot actually. Let me show you how much.”

With adept skill, he manages to remove your panties in seconds, throwing them to the wall. The clinking sound of his belt drives you mad, and your hands join his, the two of you awkwardly fumbling to remove it.

You feel your mouth go dry when his cock springs free, and he chuckles at the depraved look in your eyes.

“Some other time, love,” he whispers, voice lowering a few octaves. “Right now, I need to feel you.”

You gasp when he pushes in, and he pauses, wondering if it’s too much, but you nod, letting him know it’s okay. He thrusts shallowly, before pushing in all the way, watching you squirm underneath him while rutting your hips.

“Move, please,” you beg him, and he obliges, hiking one leg up over his shoulder to open you up for him, the wet sounds of your pussy accompanying the fluid snap of his hips. His knuckles grip the headboard, turning white while he pins you underneath him, unable to take his eyes off the way your tits bounce with every thrust. His hands grip at your ass, every jerk of his hips an excuse to hold you tighter, until he can see your skin redden underneath his fingers. 

“Oh my god, Hoseok, I can’t–, it’s too much,” you groan, rocking against him in an attempt to quell the sparks underneath your skin, lighting you up like a livewire.

“Come for me,” he grunts, trapping your clit in between his fingers, rubbing tight circles until you snap, seeking his lips once again, your orgasm flooding your entire body like a wave. Hoseok speeds up his thrusts to join you, roaring when he feels himself explode, before slumping against you, chest heaving with the weight of his breaths. 

Moments pass like this, him remaining inside you while he burrows into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning your damp skin. Eventually he pulls out of you with a soft whine, brushing away the sweat-soaked strands of hair at your temple, before rising. 

You trap his wrist in your hand, panic settling in. He watches your expression change and immediately stiffens, cradling you against his chest.

“That expression you always talk about, the flood. I-, I looked it up. And I know the life I have isn’t ideal, and maybe things will only get harder, but I promise I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I don’t want to live out the rest of my life not caring anymore.”

“Do you know what I was thinking of that night, looking at the wave?” you mumble in his ear, and he gazes at you inquisitively, watching the way your skin glows under the moonlight as you take a breath.

“My whole life, people have forced me into this box, this image, of someone they want me to be – the perfect daughter, the perfect wife. It’s been suffocating. All I wanted that night was a taste of freedom - that feeling of happiness you have on a beach, feeling the waves crash at your feet. And then I saw you.”

Hoseok leaves a kiss in your hair, his fingers intertwining with yours. Briefly, his heart drops at the absence of the ring he’d given you on your finger, but he knows when you’re ready, it’ll be waiting for you. He’ll be waiting for you. And the two of you will step into the flood, together. 

a/n pt. 2:  Okay long ending note here. First, please visualize this Hoseok with the undercut ;) Second, I don't normally say this but the writer's block really got me good with this one, so I apologize if it's not up to my usual standards (pls be kind tho). And third and last, this fic definitely would never exist if it weren't for the wonderful Guarded series by Ana (@xjoonchildx). I think about it more than is necessary and this is definitely my tribute to the impeccable Captain Jung.

As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3

taglist (pls let me know if you want to be removed): @jalexad @secfir @hobi-love @back2bluesidex @temptingempress

[i-smoke-chapstick]

'COME ON EILEEN!, [PART ONE]

-GOTHAM!VICTOR ZSASZ X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; You're not used to being seen, especially not by Jim Gordan. And especially not by Don Carmine Falcone.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!victor x female reader. SLOW BURN!!! This is a 4 part fic. LOTS OF PLOT SET-UP!! AGE GAP ROMANCE! (reader is still in highschool). Some gore in the beginning. Takes a while for reader to meet Victor. Can I write a gotham fic without Victor being obsessive? Victor ends up getting REALLY protective later on. But also, eventual really soft Victor. Like, you're his world. Set during season 1.

⋆ 'PART ONE, - 'PART TWO, - 'PART THREE, - 'PART FOUR,

Special thanks to @adalwolfgang for giving me the courage to write this teehee

♫ “You are far too young and clever.” Come On Eileen by Dexys Midnight Runners

Your life had been strange. Ever since you moved to this goddamn city. You're parents thought it would be such a grand idea; move to the city of innovation. With WayneTech and a good classy old fashioned vibe. More like the city of crime, you think. This place is an absolute shit hole!

Well, sometimes it's a shit hole. Other times you understand the strange appeal. The school wasn't half bad, aside from the weird drug dealers you saw counting money in the hallways.

You made plenty of acquaintances, but not enough, really. All of the gothamite students kind of stuck to their own. Rich cliques and street trash. You didn't really fit in as a new comer.

Everything got even more complicated one day after class. You decided to stay late at the library, brushing up on whatever homework you had. Apparently you stayed later than you thought you had, because once you were done, the night had clouded over into a cool darkness.

You knew you shouldn't be by yourself at night in gotham. It was the biggest rule to living in this city. So, you quickly packed your shit and left.

Coming outside, the parking lot was damn near empty. You gripped the straps of your book bag and centered yourself. It would be a small walk home. No harm no foul.

Well, your false confidence quickly died out when you heard a man wailing from behind you. You wanted to keep walking, but you couldn't. Damn you and your moral compass.

You made the decision to sneak a peak behind you. Just behind the overarching brick wall of Gotham high, laid a student. And another man hanging over him. With a bloody baseball bat.

Your ears began to ring as you saw the face of the student, practically decimated and beaten inwards. You could only make out the vague words of "Help me!" and "This will teach you to bring me my money on time." Their voices overlapped, and the sound of metal hitting skin in a loud ca-thunk and a crunch. The man getting beat looked at you for help; well, with what was left of his face.

You immediately knew this was a weird drug deal altercation, and also none of your business. You turned on your heel and bolted, running for your life. The sound of the baseball and the sight of your fellow student beaten bloody haunted you the whole way home.

The next morning, it was all over the news. Well, not all over the news. Front page scoops were reserved for "Maroni's new take over! What's next for Gotham's Underground?" and "Wayne Enterprises launches new aerospace tech!" But if you looked hard enough and switched a few channels, you'd see the headline clear as day.

"Gotham High Student Found Beaten To Death on Campus"

You couldn't eat your breakfast that morning. A few bites an you needed to throw it up. You couldn't erase the memory. You did nothing.

You mustered up the strength to go to school though, knowing you would have too, or your mom would kill you. You felt sick the whole time getting dressed, brushing your teeth, and closing the door. What's worse was the walk to school, seeing your steps retraced from the night before. The city seemed awfully more cheery in the daylight.

When you finally made it to the campus, your heart dropped. At least 3 cop cars pulled up, caution tape and flashing camera lights. The body of the man was in the same spot you'd seen him in.

A cop was instructing wandering and gossiping students to get a move on to class and to stop staring. You heard them whispering. But you stayed stuck, unable to move. The memories played in your head.

You could hear the muffled yelling of the cop telling you to move, but you didn't seem to register it. Neither could you register the gruff voice of a man telling the cop to wait a minute.

A hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned around in a spasm, coming face to face with Jim fucking Gordan.

You'd seen him on the TV before. He'd been the cities hero as of late. Took out the balloon man. Red hood gang. Even the Wayne killer. Tons of others. You swallowed.

In a surprisingly gentle movement, he firmly grasped your shoulder and guided you to a more private area, away from the judgey glances of other students and cops who merely rolled their eyes at him. One in particular, which you knew to be his partner, Harvey Bullock, let out an obnoxious groan while taking a bite of a Sandwich.

"Hello. My name is Jim Gordan." He spoke to you softly.

"I know who you are." The words came out more defensive than you intended them too. He backed up a little bit, mouth open and nodding. He politely removed his hand from your shoulder.

He flashed a small, awkward smile. It made you furrow your brows.

"Did you see anything that happened here last night? Anything at all." His voice lowered to a whisper. Something about his voice was gentle, charismatic. His words illicited the memory of the student in a pool of his own blood.

Jim studied you and your every movement, and when you flinched, his eyes lit up. But he kept the same serious and soft expression.

"You did, didn't you?" He urged, bending down just a tad to be at your level. You backed up. "Listen, I need you to tell me what you saw."

You stayed silent. He inhaled through his nose.

"No one is going to hurt you. I promise. Just tell me your name, give me a statement." His tone is more firm this time, and nods in the far off direction of his partner. "I don't want to have to drag you down to the station."

You mulled over what he said, before sighing.

You bit your lip, and spilled your guts.

He took note of everything you said eagerly. And when he was done, he gave you a small thank-you. You nodded, and assumed that would be the end of things.

Hah! You were wrong.

Almost half the student body had seen you and Jim Gordan talking. Before long, you were the talk of the town. The newbie in town was privy to a case with Jim Gordan.

When Gordan caught the culprit? Now that was front page news. One of Maroni's men caught in the act of beating an underage student half to death over a few milligrams of coke. Selling it to minors actively. It reflected poorly on the entirety of his underground empire. Apparently even criminals had a conscious.

And in a strange way, you also got to reap some benefits. You made a lot of new friends now, on both sides of the school. The rich cliques applauded you for helping rid the city of cretins and return it to its former glory. Some rumors had spread, and now the street trash students thought you were some badass who gave Gordan a tough time before helping him. It was all bullshit- you thought. You just helped with a stupid case.

But now, it seemed you were the only one with a hand in both pools of water. And god, it was a lot of connections. You knew about every murder cover-up the rich kids parents paid for. You knew about every ATM robbery and drug deal the street kids made. Every creepy teacher sleeping with a student. Every staff member who faked their taxes. You were a walking encyclopedia of all the crimes in Gotham committed by students and adults alike.

You didn't ask for it. But...you were glad you could help, in away. None of your friends were really real. No, the only real friend you had was Jim Gordan.

He'd made it a point to come to you for almost everything now. Figured you made a better information source than penguin. Plus, you didn't ask for anything in return. You were just thankful for the company.

He'd come down and meet you in the library when he needed you, after school, away from prying eyes. He'd sneak the both of you into a storage closet, before asking for your help.

You'd asked him a few times if you could get involved more; first hand. You thought you could do more than just being a reference. But he always just gave you that awkward smile. "Next time." He'd promised. Next time never came.

You were getting tired of your role as an informant. And you weren't the only one who noticed.

You damn near kicked and clawed. You woke up one day, blindfolded and strapped to a leather chair. Light leaked through the blindfold, and you went to scream. But there was tape covering your mouth

You knew you shouldn't have told Jim Gordan any of this shit. God, were you a snitch?!? A rat for the GCPD. Of course some gang was going to tie you up and kill you at one point!

You felt your chest heave as you struggled against your restraints.

A voice boomed, and it shut up your struggling.

"Miss L/N." It was a mans voice. Much older. "Forgive me for shocking you."

The blindfold was taken off your eyes by another figure behind you. You squinted as the light hit your retinas, and you stood face to face with Don Carmine Falcone.

You were rendered speechless.

"Let me give you some context here," He continued, and you felt your heart drop. "I have a proposition, of sorts."

You breathed against the tape on your mouth, deathly silent. A proposition. What the hell did that mean? Were you going to get to choose the way you died?

"See, I admire those who have methodical approaches. Good work ethic. You seem to have both." He circled you, standing up. "I heard whispers of a young girl that seemed to have wormed her way into the GCPD."

He paused, looking you directly in the eye.

"You are an incredibly useful asset, Miss L/N. Does Gordan tell you that enough?" The man urged. You felt your heart rate settle; and your mind do flips. No, you thought. He really doesn't.

"...I propose, you do a job for me. A small one, I assure you." He put his hand up. "You attend school with a student whose father is deep into Maroni's operation. I assume you know who I'm speaking of."

You do.

"I also assume you know all about where said man resides, with the rest of his crew. I want you to tell me where exactly that is. And, I want you to go there with Victor."

The words coming out of his mouth were terrifying. Victor...Victor, Victor, Victor. You repeated the name over and over. And then it clicked.

Victor Zsasz.

Oh god, this couldn't be happening. A million questions rushed through out your head. Jim had told you about his incident with him.

You managed to turn to look over your shoulder in the direction Falcone nodded too. Sure enough, there the man stood.

Victor looked at you stoically, leather hand coming up to wave at you, like this was a joke. A frightening smile played on his lips as he took in your shaking form.

You looked back to Falcone, and he gently tore off the tape covering your mouth, and undid the restraints on your right hand. You breathed shakily.

"Why do you want me to go with Zsasz? I get being an informant- why do you want me to go kill a bunch of guys?!?" Your voice sounded strained. You meant for it to be more confident. You flexed your wrist where the restraints had been.

Falcone nodded. "That's for me to know." He stated bluntly, obviously not further elaborating. "Do we have a deal?"

"And If I say no?" You wavered, watching the Don stretch out a hand to shake on it. Falcone merely pursed his lips and frowned.

In a swift movement, he motioned back to Victor who stared you down intently. Victor mouthed the words, "I'm gonna stab you." With a stabbing gesture of his hand.

You swallowed.

And then you shook Falcone's hand.

[renthony]

🏳️‍🌈

omg yes please

(Drop a 🏳️‍🌈 in my inbox and I’ll respond with a queer media recommendation!)

This recommendation is for something I keep thinking is more well-known than it is--the graphic novel series DeadEndia by Hamish Steele, which was adapted into the Netflix series Dead End: Paranormal Park!

The basic premise of both is that the main character, Barney, a gay Jewish teenage trans boy, gets a job at a theme park housing a magic elevator that can travel between the 13 planes of reality. There are angels, demons, magic, and a phenomenal cast of diverse characters that fill my heart with so much joy.

I got to the show first, not long after season one released. The show was cancelled after season two as part of Netflix's war against queer television, so after watching the show, I knew I needed to check out the source material.

There are differences between the two, but Hamish Steele was the showrunner, so the spirit is the same. I love them both and I think it's a goddamn tragedy that we were robbed of further seasons of the show. The third graphic novel released after the cancellation, and was dedicated to "everyone who has ever had their favorite TV show cancelled." I don't know what exactly the crew had planned for season 3--because Hamish Steele said on Twitter that they were already working on it iirc--but the third book concludes the story beautifully. If you got into the show and wanted to know what was coming next, do yourself a favor and read the comics.

Here's the plot summary for Book 1 - The Watcher's Test:

Barney Guttman’s life has been turned upside down. His family is struggling to fully embrace his trans identity, but thanks to his best friend Norma, he’s just landed a job at Phoenix Parks, a Dollywood-esque amusement park inspired by the long life and career of mysteriously youthful actress and singer Pauline Phoenix. Soon, Barney and his dog, Pugsley, secretly move into the haunted house attraction. Little does Barney know, the house contains a portal to the demonic planes of Hell. When Courtney, Barney’s devilish new roommate, invites a demon king to Earth through the portal, they offer Barney and Norma as flesh vessels for the king, but in a strange twist, Pugsley is possessed instead! It’s a race through the park to save Pugsley—and the world—from the demon king’s reign of terror that leaves Pugsley with strange and magical side effects. With all of this chaos going on, Barney is also discovering he has crush on park employee, Logan, so he must face his biggest fear of all… talking to someone he likes.

And here's the trailer for the first season of the Netflix show:

I absolutely adore this story in both its forms, and I think more people should check it out. It makes me happy, and I find it hugely inspiring. It makes me want to go work on my own art, which is pretty much the highest praise I can give a piece of fiction.

Ask For a Rec | Other Media Recommendations | Support Links

[ashleycatchemm]

1-24: Finally Free

Part 24 of??

Pairing: Reggie x Reader, Luke x Julie, Alex x Willie

Summary: (Y/n) (L/n) has been able to see and feel ghosts ever since she was little, which made it hard to tell the ghosts from the humans. Everyone has always thought she was a bit crazy, even her best friends, Julie and Flynn. But when three ghosts with a love for music appear in Julie's garage, suddenly (Y/n) doesn't seem so crazy anymore.

Song: Finally Free (Julie and the phantoms)

Season 1 Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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Pulling into my driveway I parked the truck and hopped out, leaving the door open for Arius to come out behind me. Once the black cat jumped out of the blue truck I shut the door behind him, a banging noise catching my attention from across the street. Looking over, at the big blue house across the street that's been for sale ever since I remember, no one has wanted to buy it, and when they do, something always seems to cause them to back out.

People have been saying that it's haunted, but I've lived here all my life, and I haven't seen or heard a single ghost from over there. My eyes drifted down to the man hammering in a new sign, only this one was different, it had the word 'Sold' written on it in big bold letters. "Hey Arius?" I didn't bother looking back at the black cat, eyes trained on the sign across the street.

A hum in response gave me the okay to ask my question. "Do you think there are ghosts in that house?" Nodding my head over to the house across the street, watching the man start to pick up the sign he pulled out before replacing it with the other. "I doubt it." Looking back at the cat, I noticed he disappeared, (e/c) eyes glanced around to catch any sign of the demonic cat, only to see him sitting next to me. Blue eyes glued to the house in front of us, tail moving in an annoyed way.

"Your grandmother cleared out that house ages ago."

My brows furrowed in confusion, "So then how did it not sell for years?" I shoved my hands in my pockets "If it's been cleared out for ages, how is it just now getting sold?" Arius didn't give much of a helpful response "I don't know." he turned around and started making his way towards the front door. "Wait." I stated, quickly following after him "What do you mean 'I don't know'? Aren't you supposed to know everything about my grandmother?" Sitting by the door, he growled out a response "I don't know, because I wasn't there."  Arius' temper seemed to flare up at the subject and that's when I felt it. The pang of emotional hurt, it wasn't big enough to get a reaction from me, but I knew one thing. It wasn't my emotion I was feeling.

No.

It was the demonic cat in front of me.

Arius' ears were drooped downward a little, tail wrapped close around him, the end being curled between his front paws. Sitting down on the steps of my front porch, I asked the question on my mind, not knowing if he'd answer me or just yell at me and go back to being closed off, either way, I need to know. "Why weren't you there?" He was silent for a second, tail whipping back and fourth in an agitated manor. After a minute or two, he finally spoke up "Once witches and warlocks get older, they start settling down. Having kids. Getting married. That sort of thing." I stayed quiet, not wanting to jump in.

If there are warlocks out there, then I wonder just how many more people there are like me..

"Eventually, there is a point in our lives where we feel we aren't needed anymore to our masters, so we would leave. No goodbyes, or farewells. Since demons get attached to their witch or warlock, we feel it's easier on us to leave without goodbyes. Breaks the bond faster."

I watched as the cat next to me looked up at the sky his blue eyes shining with an emotion I've never seen on him before, admiration? Maybe even love. His mouth opened a little, as if trying to smile, pointed teeth visible for all to see. "Your grandmother was different than the other witches and warlocks in your family. She could tell I was going to leave. She knew that something was off when she talked to me that night. She sensed it." Arius looked out in front of him at the house across the street, the same house that started this conversation.

"(G/n) engulfed me in the biggest hug, and begged me to stay with her. And so I did, because she was my weakness. Anything she asked of me I would do, all to make her happy."

Arius' expression seemed to falter "But then, it all turned to shit." His teeth bared in anger, claws gripping onto the front porch. "One of her sons got themselves into deep shit. And so your grandmother sent me away in order to protect her family from the ministry." His expression shifted into a scowl as he laid down, front paws hanging a little off the end of the porch. "I'm not mad at her for what she did. I know that they could've easily tracked me and then her family would've been in danger. I just... I wish there could've been another way. 36 years I spent with (G/n), and yet it still wasn't enough. I wanted a little more time with her." The black cat grew silent, not wanting to say anything else as he rested his head on his front legs.

I stared at Arius, having another aching feeling in my chest, it was the same as the last one, having not been my own emotions. Raising my hand up, I brought it over so that it was hovering over the demonic cat's head. I kept it there for a second or two, debating my choices, He'll probably swat at me. But in that moment I decided that I didn't care, because I felt like I should give him some kind of comfort, even if he does swat me away. Bringing my hand down, I gently rubbed his head, cautious of his movements, not wanting to get hit.

To my surprise, he didn't fight back, closing his eyes, Arius let out a small sigh in content. This bond has to start somewhere. Looking up at the clear blue sky a small smile crossed my lips, feeling good that I finally did something to help someone I'm glad it's starting here. And talking about Grandma no less. Looking back down at the black cat, he let out a small huff before shaking my hand off of him and sitting back up.

"So I don't know what (G/n) did to that house. She probably put a spell on it to keep the ministry from finding her. Or from finding her sons. Everything she did was to protect the people she cared about."

"Before she sent me away, she told me to look after you if something were to ever happen to her. Your mother was pregnant with you at the time. And, well, I could feel it. The bond. Before you were even born. I sensed that you would be a powerful witch and I could tell that (G/n) sensed it too. So now I'm going to train you the best I can, and look after you. But I can only do so much."

I nodded my head, understanding what he was saying. I can't keep running away from what I am. That means I'm gonna have to start cooperating with Arius. The black cat looked over at me, his usual bland stare on his face. I opened my mouth to say something but the noise of a ghost appearing caught my attention. "Hey (N/n)!" The boy clad in his leather jacket was quick to state, walking forward a little he pointed back and forth from me to the cat sitting next to me.

"Is this a bad time?"

I shook my head a little, a smile gracing my lips at just the sight of the ghost in front of me. "No. Not at all." Feeling the pull at my chest, causing me to stand up and walk towards Reggie. "Why?" The bassist in front of me radiated happiness as he met me halfway and grabbed ahold of my hand "We got to practice! Our first gig is tonight!" Dragging me down my driveway "Woah, Woah, Woah, Tonight?" I was quick to stop in place at the end of my driveway, causing Reggie to come to a halt as I pulled back on his hand.

The dark haired bassist in front of me tilted his head a little as if confused as to why I stopped him "And I thought Julie was all done with the band? She told me herself that-" Reggie jumped in, successfully cutting me off to answer my questions. "We all made up. But we have to hurry and practice because our gig is in a couple of hours." He pulled me a little bit along the side walk, only for me to quickly come to a stop once again. Still not processing the information.

"Wait Julie forgave you? When? And when did we get a gig?" Reggie rolled his eyes in amusement "What even-"

I was cut off once again, as Reggie pulled me toward him and wrapped a hand around my mouth. Faces inches apart, his award winning smile sitting on his face "I'll fill you in on all the details later. Right now we need to go, okay?" His arm sat wrapped around my waist, I felt my cheeks grow warm from the close proximity. I nodded my head in response, that being the only thing I could do, even if his hand wasn't covering my mouth, I don't think I would've been able to muster a single word.

Well, At least non that would make sense...

His hand left my mouth, finding my own once again. Gripping it tight, he pulled me along to go to Julie's. Looking back I caught sight of the black cat following close behind me.

I don't think he's gonna leave my side anytime soon.

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"Okay. What's with the cat?"

Alex had his eyes trained on Arius sitting on the couch, as Julie walked over to him. "I think it's cute" reaching her arm out to pet him, I was quick to jump in "Uh, Julie, I wouldn't..." the black cat was quick to jump up from his position on the couch. Hissing at Julie, his fur standing up, back arched, ears pulled back to show his agitation. The curly haired singer pulled her hand away in surprise, Arius was quick to make his way towards the other end of the couch, settling down. His eyes glanced at Julie, sending her one more growl before looking back at me.

"What's its problem?"

Alex questioned, seeing as how Arius almost hurt one of his friends. Picking up my rhythm guitar, I put the strap over my shoulder while speaking on the cats behalf. "He just isn't fond of most people. So don't try to force it." Arius growled briefly as I spoke, causing me to send him a look as if to say 'Behave' the black cat huffed while whipping his tail back and forth in aggravation, but overall growing silent. "Well, now that the cat conversation is out of the way..." Reggie grabbed everyone's attention as he walked over next to me, swinging his bass strap over his shoulder.

"Let's get started."

Julie nodded her head in agreement as her and Alex made their way over to their instruments.

"Right."

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All four of us were playing the cords to Finally Free as Julie sang "Marching on proud, Turn it up loud, cause now we know what we're worth." Luke suddenly appears in the chair by the coffee table, causing the four of us to stop playing. Letting out a small "woah" he noticed the four of us by our instruments. Standing up out of the chair "Julie." He stated, surprised to see her by the piano.

"Grab your guitar. We got work to do."

Luke started at her for a moment, mouth agape, only to let out a small chuckle as he grabbed his guitar, which stood by me. Walking over to Julie he asked "What made you come back?" Julie stood up from her seat "I realized how important music is for all of us. And we've lost so much already. We can't lose this too." Luke nodded his head a little "Thanks." He responded, only to ask "All right boss. Where we at?" In order to lighten the mood a little, letting out a small chuckle at his own question.

"Oh, and by the way, happy birthday."

Julie sat back down in her seat in front of the piano, a small chuckle passing her lips, again Luke stared at her in disbelief. Glancing over at the guys as if they would tell him how she knew, looking back at Julie a smile crossed his lips before making his way across the room.

"Let's take it from the pre-chorus." Julie stated

Alex banged his sticks together "One, Two, Three, Four." And with that the five of us started singing and playing, in order to practice for tonight.

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"You can't come with me Arius. We've already discussed this."

The black cat sat on my bed as I proceeded to do my make up for the gig. "I'll go in my human form."

"What about if Julie and Flynn see you?"

"I'll make up an excuse as to why I'm there."

Putting the mascara down, I turned around to face the black cat on my bed, the two of us stared the other down as if trying to silently win the argument. Letting out a sigh, I pinched the fridge of my nose all while stating "Fine. You can go" The demon determined to be by my side every second of everyday let out a small cheer before getting cut off by me "But..." his cat like eyes seemed to narrow in aggravation as I told him the terms of the agreement. "...You have to stay outside of the coffee shop, in your cat form the entire time. Got it?" My eyes narrowed back at him as if daring him to challenge my decision.

A huff of defeat passed through the black cats nose "Fine. As long as I'm there, I really don't care." The sound of a ghost warping could be heard, grabbing the attention of both me and the demon across from me. "Hey (N/n), you ready to go?" Near the door stood the boy that made my heart practically jump for joy, just from the sound of his voice. Reggie stood clad in his black tank top, biceps clearly being shown which caused my eyes to drift a little to look at them.

My bottom lip found its way between my teeth, all while my thoughts started to get impure. "(Y/n)?" The bassist's voice brought me back to reality, I was quick to let go of my lip as my eyes darted back up to his own. "You okay?" He continued, raising his brows as if to question my behavior. Shaking my head a little to bring myself back to my senses I sent him a small smile "I'm fine. We should get going." all while making my way towards my bedroom door, Arius hopping off my bed and following close behind.

Reggie followed me out the door to my room "The place isn't to far from here is you want to walk together." I started to walk down the steps as I explained "Reggie, if I walked down the street with you, people would think I'm a crazy person talking to herself." The sound of a ghost warping could be heard behind me, only for the dark haired boy to reappear right in front of me at the bottom of the stairs. This surprised me causing me to almost fall back, only for him to grab my arms and hold me steady, our noses inches apart. I felt my face grow warm at the proximity, feeling that tug from my chest, the urge to just lean over and capture his lips in my own.

"We don't even have to talk, just walk and hold hands or something."

Reggie's eyes went wide as he let go of me and took a couple steps back "I-I mean..." I could tell that he was frantically trying to come up with an excuse, but I didn't care at that moment. "not hold hands, but ya know..." because when I looked from his eyes to his hands, I realized how much I wanted to hold it in my own. "I just-" reaching over I snatched his hand in mine, effectively cutting off the dark haired bassist

"Let's go." I stated, all while dragging him towards the door.

Getting a small response of "Okay" from Reggie as Arius followed the two of us out the door.

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Once we got to the coffee shop, I was quick to try to let go of Reggie's hand, only for him to tighten his grip and pull on it a little, refusing to let go. Looking back at the golden retriever boy behind me, my eyes narrowed as if to tell him to let go. "I know. But, just let me hold your hand a little longer...Please?" I was confused, I didn't know why Reggie was acting like this, but tonight feels different with Reggie. I couldn't place my finger on the reason why.

Looking around at the people walking in, I noticed a lot of them eyeing me and whispering to their friends. Looking back at Reggie I leaned over a little to whisper "Reggie. People are staring." It felt suffocating to be standing there with him at the moment, knowing that what everyone was seeing, was that my hand was out in the air holding onto nothing, and I was talking to no one.

Reggie's eyes held an emotion I couldn't quite place, maybe desperation? "I don't care if they stare." The dark haired bassist took a step forward, bringing our interlaced hands up to his chest, eyes begging me to just hold his hand a little longer. "Please (Y/n). I just want your touch right now." I didn't know what to do, I took another glance around at the people and noticed more staring and pointing fingers. I looked down at Arius as if to ask him for some kind of help, only for him to hop on a trashcan and say one thing.

"He's a ghost. So be careful how you handle this. I will explain to you want is happening later. But for now, focus on taking care of this."

My eyes landed back on Reggie's, not knowing what to do or say, I just shook my head all while saying a quick apology "I'm sorry." Pulling my hand away, I walked off into the bustling coffee shop.

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"Hey did I miss anything?"

I asked Julie and Flynn as soon as I got over to them. "Nothing exciting, that's for sure." Flynn stated, directing my attention to the stage. There clad in all pink to perform with her dancing divas was the queen bee herself, Carrie Wilson. "Hope you all came to have a great time!" Carrie's obnoxious giggle left her lips as the crowd clapped. An annoyed growl left my lips from her appearance to ruin my night "Dirty Candy?" Julie asked only for me to jump in "How did she get on the list?" Flynn gave both of us a look, as if we should already know the answer.

"Her daddy made a call"

Crossing my arms across my chest, I stared daggers at the girl on the stage all while Flynn commented on Julie's outfit.

"Whenever I walk in the room, All the focus on me"

Carrie walked forward on stage, her girls joining behind her "The way I talk, the way I move, they all want on my team." I rolled my eyes at her cheap dance moves, not wanting to sit through this what so ever. "Not trying to brag, brag, but I'm flawless. I'm taking over your playlist. Ain't perfect but I can't miss. Yeah" looking back at the boys who suddenly appeared behind us, I noticed Luke smiling and enjoying the performance, Alex looked a bit antsy, and Reggie held a pensive look on his face, not seeming to interested in the girls dancing in front of him. Almost as if he was lost in his own thoughts.

He's probably just as confused about what happened as I was.

Looking back on stage I noticed Alex appear behind Carrie who was now on the floor, I covered my mouth as a laugh almost slipped past my lips. Julie seemed confused, looking back at the boys to see why he did that but Reggie just shrugged in response. Alex seemed lost  for a moment, only for the girls to stand back up as he started dancing with all of them, causing a small giggle in amusement to escape my lips.

When he was done he appeared back next to me, I sent him a smile and shook my head at his funny antics while Julie commented "You having fun out there?" Alex cleared his throat before coming up with an excuse "It's not my fault, it's my um..." he paused "It's my feet" I just shook my head while saying "Yeah, okay."

"Put me back in coach."

And with that Alex was gone, back to dancing on stage with Carrie and her crew. I felt a tap on my shoulder from behind as Reggie took Alex's spot beside me. "Can we talk?" I shook my head in response "not here Reggie." I glanced over at the boy next to me only to see his eyes narrowed in aggravation. "I don't care. We need to talk about this. Because what happened earlier was weird, you must have noticed that much. I don't know what's going on with me and, and  I'm confused-" I kept facing forward as to not draw attention I whisper yelled at him "Reggie!" Successfully cutting him off I stated "Not. Here." Saying it firmly worked to an extent. An angry scoff left his lips as he crossed his arms and went back to standing next to Luke.

The song was soon to end as Alex took in all the praises. Before warping back next to me a giant smile on his face "I uh... I was just... doing that for you guys" Reggie nodded his head "Mhm. yeah. You can stop smiling now." Alex chuckled at Reggie's comment. Julie grabbed our attention "Not gonna lie. That was... kind of good." Flynn nodded her head in agreement "Yeah. I forgot why I hate her so much." I scoffed while saying "I didn't forget my reason for hating her." I noticed her making her way over to us.

"Speak of the devil."

I stated all while receiving a glare from the bitch in response, I sent her a sarcastic smile all while flipping her off. Carrie ignore my actions and turned her attention towards Flynn and Julie "Hi girls. Um, isn't it past your bedtime?" Flynn looked between Julie and I "Now I remember." Before looking back over at Carrie. "If you're looking for Nick, he didn't come." Flynn and I both scoffed in response to her statement, knowing she was just trying to take a jab at Julie.

Stepping towards Carrie, Julie was quick to stick up for herself "That's not why I'm here." The sound of the microphone was quick to grab everyone's attention.

"Ok, it looks like we're closing the night out with one more group, Julie, (Y/n), and the fat ones"

The four of us turned towards Luke in annoyance while the girls in front of us laughed. "Really?" Alex asked.

"Yeah man, my Handwriting sucks."

The four of us rolled our eyes as Julie and I went to walk on stage, but not before I angrily bumped my shoulder into Carries.

Julie was quick to make her way to the piano, as I grabbed the rhythm guitar "Hi, it's actually Julie,(Y/n) and the phantoms" looking around she noticed no one was really paying attention, taking a glance over at me I motioned for her to continue. "Okay." She stated into the mic and started to play the piano. "Hearts on fire, we're no liars, so we say what we wanna say." I played my rhythm guitar as I continued the next line of the song "I'm awaken, no more takin' so we push all our fears away." The two of us started singing together "don't know if we'll make it cause we're falling down under, close my eyes and feel my chest beating like thunder." Julie now sang alone.

"I wanna fly, come alive, watch me shine"

The boys appeared playing their instruments as Julie got up, bringing the microphone with her, I stood in the back behind Luke as the two of them sang. "I got a spark in me, hands up if you can see, and you're a part of me, hands up if you're with me, now till eternity hands up if you believe, been so long and now we're finally free." Julie started singing by herself while she hit a tambourine on her hip.

"We're all bright now, what a sight now coming out like we're fireworks"

I sang the next part alone "Marching on proud, turn it up loud, cause now we know what we're worth"

Julie and Luke sang the next part together as I went back near Reggie "We know we can make it when we're not fallin' down under, close my eyes and feel my chest beating like thunder." All while Julie and Luke stared contently at each other "I wanna fly, come alive, watch me shine" Reggie and I leaned into our mics as we sang "ooooh" while Julie and Luke sang the Chorus "I got a spark in me, hands up if you can see, and your a part of me, hands up if you're with me, now till eternity, hands up if you believe, been so long and now we're finally free"

Reggie suddenly jumped over to Luke's Microphone and sang with him, I felt a jolt of pain corse through my chest for a second as I watched Reggie's every move, I could feel the pull on my chest getting stronger and stronger with each passing day, and it doesn't seem to be letting up anytime soon, considering the effect it's starting to have on Reggie. That's the only explanation for his behavior earlier, but the only way to be sure is to ask Arius.

"I got a spark in me, hands up if you can see, and you're a part of me, hands up if you're with me, now till eternity, hands up if you believe, been so long and now we're finally free"

Julie and Luke now sang alone, meeting halfway Julie sang "I got a spark in me" she leaned the mic over to Luke as he echoed "I got a spark in me" the way Julie and Luke were staring at each other made me look back at Alex and Reggie for answers "And you're a part of me" Alex just shrugged with a small smile "And you're a part of me"as Reggie shook his head a little as if to say that he didn't know either.

"Now till eternity"

"Now till eternity"

"Been so long and now we're finally free"

We all started playing our instruments again as Reggie, Luke and I all sang the chorus while Julie sang in the background "I've got a spark in me, hands up if you can see, and you're a part of me, hands up if you're with me" Julie sang "Yeah" as the rest of us continued "now till eternity, hands up if you believe, been so long and now we're finally free."

Reggie, Luke, Alex and I went back to doing the "oooh" as Julie sang "Finally free, yeah" Luke and I jumped in at the end "Been so long and now we're finally free" everyone stopped playing as Julie let me have the last note.

"Finally free, yeah..."

The crowd went nuts as they all cheered and applauded, the five of us took a bow as the boys disappeared. The crowd continued to cheer as walked over next to Julie she stated "Thank you, we're Julie, (Y/n) and the Phantoms." I was quick to grab the mic from her and state "Tell your friends." Before walking off stage with Julie.

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Once we got off stage Julie ran over to Flynn excitedly, engulfing her in a hug as the two of them giggled and squealed in excitement. I leisurely made my way over to them, only to get dragged into the hug as well. Once we all let go Flynn stated "You two were incredible!" To which Reggie smugly replied "Yeah we were." While looking back at Alex and Luke who were currently sitting on the bar.

"Hey, Hey! Whoever Carrie was trying to impress is headed our way!"

Luke was quick to call out to Julie and I, as the two of us turned around to see a women in a pants suit headed in our direction. "She looks all business" Alex commented and Reggie started to panic, asking "Wait. Who should do the talking?" Then once realizing what he said he quickly fixed it "Right, Julie and (Y/n)." Julie glanced back at Luke for support, only for him to say "You got this." The women was quick to grab ahold of my hand to introduce herself.

"Hi I'm Andi Parker, and I would-"

"Julie."

Our attention went from Andi to the man that said Julie's name, which just so happened to be her father. Andi looked back at the man behind her "Dad." Julie stated, not sounding to happy.

"It's time to go."

Ray didn't sound to happy but I couldn't let us loose this, it could be our big break and Reggie would be upset if I didn't try. "Mr.Molina, if we could just have 5 minutes to-" he cut me off, not wanting to hear anything I have to say. "No. Julie is going home. And I'm calling your uncle." I scoffed and shook my head "seriously? What did I even do?" Andi finally spoke up deciding that this was a bad moment. "This seems like a bad time, so I'm gonna take off, wonderful performance, the both of you." She stated, looking from Julie to me before taking her leave.

"No! Wait!"

Luke yelled but of course she didn't hear him. She couldn't. Luke went to go chafe after her, but let out an exasperated sigh after realizing it wasn't gonna work.

"What did you do? You brought my daughter out here on a school night, to entertain your band fantasies."

"Dad!"

Julie said and was quick to speak up before things go south "She didn't drag me out here, I left by myself." Ray shook his head in disappointment "we'll talk about your punishment later. For now I have to get you both home." Turning towards me he stated "And don't think you're off the hook yet missy. Just because you live in that house by yourself doesn't mean you get to go home scott free. I was told to look after you and that's exactly what I'm doing by giving your uncle a call." I felt trapped in a hole, unable to climb out. I hated my uncle. And I hated that I could loose the freedom that I currently had.

He's definitely going to come down here now, and when he does I'm screwed.

Prev // Next

Taglist:

@caosfanblr

(Feel free to let me know if you’d like to be added to the Taglist!)

[thatsdemko]

you’re on your own, kid - l.lawson

masterlist

Taylor swift masterlist

pairings: Liam Lawson x reader

warnings: mentions of anxiety

a/n: this could be written sooo much better but idk lately I’ve been struggling with my writing :/ also I can’t remember if Liam has drove in f1 before (I don’t think so) so if he has pretend he hasn’t!!! p11 for Liam!!! enjoy everyone xx

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes

I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this

the stakes are a lot higher in formula 1. the big lights, the cameras, the roars of the fans are new added pressure to Liam. he’s familiar with his job: go in, drive, and prove others wrong. but this was just a lucky circumstance that could dictate the rest of his career. no pressure by the way!

“talk to me.” you toss your phone to the side of the plush hotel mattress. extending your arms outward, he crawls into your lap and rests his head against your chest. his blond hairs stick up tickling your chin as you rub soft circles into his skin. this is how it’s been lately. he freaks himself out until he falls asleep, goes to training, and then the cycle repeats itself. Liam Lawson was not adjusting well to the big rigs of formula 1.

“just a lot going on.” he mutters into your shirt shoving his face into the middle of your breasts, “I’m just scared.” he admits and for the first time liam let’s you into his little anxious world, and the feeling in your gut is anything but pleasant.

you could tell he wasn’t happy, he loves driving and he loves alpha tauri, but this pressure was different. this need to be excellent was crucial and it was running him dry. they were going to run him to the ground before he ever made his first full season debut, huh?

“you’re going to do amazing, Liam.”

“how do you know?” he pulls away from you, leaving your body feeling cold and empty. he’s sitting upward, running his hands through his hair. he gets up from your lap and begins to pace the floor at the end of the bed, “this is a life time opportunity that I could fail, y/n.” the words are bitter at his tongue you want to just shake him out of this horrid spell. you wish there was more you could do than give him promises that could be empty.

but the thing was, he’s right. there’s a hint of fear that creeps into your mind. whenever you think you’re safe from the thoughts, they come running back. what if he does bad? what if he actually can’t perform to his best? these questions haunt you at night while you cuddle your boyfriend to sleep.

“I can’t predict the future and nor do I know what it holds, but Liam,” you say, crawling to the edge of the bed, you stop him by taking his hands into yours. his eyes flicker from your finger tips holding his shaking hands up into your eyes, “you can drive the hell out of a formula two car. what’s stopping you from jumping this hurdle?”

you watch those green eyes. the tidal waves of fear and exhaustion battle each other before he hangs his head low, “fear. anxiety. I’m afraid of being seen as a failure.”

you take your hands against his cheeks, pulling his face upward so your eyes connect, “you are not a failure, and I know for a fact you never will be.” you say. pulling his body into yours, you wrap your arms around him and hug him tighter into your chest, “you’re going to be fine. tomorrow is the first big step, it’ll all pan out.”

“you make it sound so easy.” he pulls his body away and slouches down beside you at the edge. his feet dangle off the edge, he looks over at you with a wary smile, “but I trust you. it’ll be okay.”

“it’s okay to be scared, it’ll all be okay.”

You're on your own, kid

Yeah, you can face this

You're on your own, kid

You always have been

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @lovelytsunoda @smoothopz @jaehyunluvcult @iloveyou3000morgan @leclerc13 @leclerces

want to be apart of my taglist? let me know here!

[panda-writes-kpop]

who you gonna call? (winchesters!) ~ k. br.

a/n: raaaahhh happy SuA day!!! a little late on the international end of things but it's better late than never, right? anyways enjoy this fic, I had so much fun writing it that I may get back into watching supernatural. :) also the title is based on an edit of the winchesters brothers to 'ghostbusters' by ray parker jr!

I normally don't do a separate trigger warning for specific triggers, but since this is the first time that a piece of work has touched on such a serious topic, I wanted to put a big disclaimer out there. There is a scene in the fic where suicide is discussed as a possible cause of death. There's isn't any more graphic of a description than the word being thrown around once or twice; however, I feel it is my responsibility as an author to inform you of this. That being said, if you or a loved one are struggling, here's a list of international suicide hotlines that can help you if you need them. take care of yourselves, my loves, and remember that you all are beloved by me. ❤️

tw: BRIEF MENTION OF SUICIDE, main character death, lots of blood and gore in this one, not accurate to the Supernatural episode (Season 1, Episode 5) that it is based on, reader's parents died at an early age, it's a mixed bag of angst, fluff, and hurt/comfort with an open ending

summary: after one of the worst nights of your life, a pair of "reporters" roll into town and ask you questions about your dead friend. unfortunately, one of the girls, SuA, is a bit too charming for her own good. your curiosity towards the girl brings you closer to her, and it brings SuA closer to solving your friend's death, as well as the death of your parents.

♡ Masterlist ♡

“Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody-”

“Stop!” You cry out before shutting your eyes. “Don’t do this!”

“You know it’s not real, right?” Ryujin looks at you as concern laces into her voice. “We can leave, if you’re uncomfortable-”

“You’re both chickens!” Yuna teases you before turning back to the bathroom mirror. “O’ spooky mirror ghost, tell these losers to go back home!”

She cackles as you open your eyes and place a steady hand on the counter.

“Yuna, I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” You bite your lip as tears start to form in your eyes.

Yuna’s smile immediately fades as she pushes Ryujin aside to pull you into a hug.

“I’m so sorry! I was just playing around, and I didn’t mean to make you cry.” She whines before placing her head on your chest. “Please forgive me!”

With pleading eyes, Yuna looks like a wounded puppy as you gently comb your fingers through her hair.

“It’s alright, Yuna,” You reassure her as your free hand wraps around her side, “I know you didn’t mean any harm. I’ve just been sensitive to these things since people started spreading those haunting rumors after my parents died.”

“Those people are assholes,” Ryujin injects, “and you shouldn’t pay them any mind.”

Yuna bobs her head up and down before letting you out of her arms.

“That’s why you’ve got us!” She proudly says before looking in the mirror. “We’ll protect you from anything, ghost-related or not.”

You let go of Yuna before heading towards the bathroom door.

“Thank you, to the both of you.” You wipe away the tears that threaten to fall as Ryujin grabs your hand and guides you away from the bathroom.

“C’mon, I’ll make you some hot chocolate and we can talk about those cute girls you’ve been seeing at college.” She teases as you smile back at her.

“Girls? What girls?” You play dumb, which causes Ryujin to laugh.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

Your other hand catches the door frame as you look back at Yuna.

“You coming?”

“In a minute!” She gleefully says as you remove your hand from the doorway.

A second later, and it would’ve been crushed by Yuna slamming the door shut. You allow Ryujin to drag you to the kitchen as your thoughts begin to wander.

It’s silly to believe those rumors, right? Maybe I should be brave like Yuna and face them head on.

~

After Yuna slams the door shut, she turns the light off and grabs the candle from the sink. With a spare match that she stowed away in her pocket, she lights the candle and sets it back onto the counter.

Yuna looks at herself in the mirror, locking eyes with the reflection that looks back at her, as she smiles to herself.

“It’s just a child’s game - what harm could it do?”

She leans close to the mirror before whispering, “Bloody Mary.”

A single shiver runs up her spine - fear? adrenaline? panic? fate?

She sighs to herself. 

This is stupid.

“Bloody Mary.” Her voice rings out again, and this time, the candle wavers in the wind.

Yuna looks out to the window in the bathroom, but it isn’t wide open or slightly cracked. It’s completely shut, with no holes to be seen.

A new shiver runs down her spine - this one she identifies as pure terror.

What’s going on?

“Bloody Mary.” 

The words leave her lips before she can stop herself. Yuna immediately turns on the lights and looks around.

There’s nothing here - you’re just a scaredy-cat!

She breathes out before wiping a tear from her eye.

I must’ve really scared myself if I started crying.

She looks down at her hand, expecting to see nothing but a teardrop, but she sees blood.

Her blood.

A scream is caught in her throat, threatening to escape as she looks in the mirror.

This time, she sees blood falling from both of her eyes, and a shadowy figure in the back.

A woman.

Bloody Mary.

~

You grab the warm mug from Ryujin’s hands before taking a sip of the hot chocolate. Like an impatient child, you take a sip and are immediately reminded why doing so is a terrible idea. You quickly set the mug back down as the liquid in your mouth is scolding your tongue and throat as it travels down to your stomach.

“Fuck,” You wipe your lips, “that’s hot.”

“It’s hot chocolate, you know.” She nudges your arm before taking a seat next to you in the dining room.

You roll your eyes as she laughs at her own bad joke.

“Thanks, Einstein.”

Her mug sits on the table, right next to yours, as her hand grabs your arm.

“How’s college life? Meet anyone special?”

“Not yet. I’m focused on my studies.” You shrug off her nosiness, but Ryujin’s persistent.

“You can’t just spend the rest of your life slaving away at work, you know.” 

“You can’t just spend the rest of your life working at a shitty cafe, Ryujin.” You mimic her voice as she loudly gasps.

“Excuse you! My caramel macchiatos are anything but shitty!”

You both laugh before falling into a comfortable silence.

Her fingers run up and down your arm, and you find comfort in the gesture. She’s been your closest friend since your parents died, back during your first year of high school. Through her, you met Yuna, her neighbor and childhood best friend, who had the biggest house on the block.

It was easy to escape the pain of being in a home with no parents when you could simply spend every night at a friend’s house. It wasn’t like their parents complained - you all got decent grades and stayed out of trouble, so what was the harm?

“It was nice of Yuna to offer her house to me since I’m in town for the week.” You say, as Ryujin nods.

“Her house is always open to me. The benefits of being neighbors, I suppose.” She looks over to the hallway where the bathroom is. “Yuna, come out here before your hot chocolate gets cold! I don’t want to hear any complaints if it already is!”

You laugh before looking out to the hallway.

“That’s odd. She’d usually have some sort of smartass comment to say by now.” You glance at Ryujin, who seems perplexed by Yuna’s odd behavior.

“You’re right. She’s never this quiet. Do you want to check in on her, or should I do so?”

“I’ll do it.” You quickly get out of your chair and head towards the bathroom.

“Yuna!” You call out to her as you slowly approach the bathroom door. Nearly every light in the house is on, yet you feel some sort of darkness around you.

C’mon, Yuna, now is not the time for jokes.

“Yuna, please come out! Ryujin and I, we’re worried about you!” You stop before the door, fist raised to knock against it.

You knock once, twice, thrice.

No response.

“Yuna, please!” Your voice becomes more desperate as you continue to knock. “This isn’t funny!”

You try to open the door, you’re past the social politeness of knocking in case she’s taking care of private business. You’re worried that she slipped and fell, or maybe she hurt herself and didn’t want to say anything-

A key. There has to be a key somewhere.

You look down to see if you can spot a key, but your eyes widen at the sight in front of you.

Blood soaks into your shoes and the carpet below your feet.

You shriek in terror.

“What’s wrong?” Ryujin races around the corner as you start sobbing.

“Call an ambulance! I think Yuna’s, she’s-” 

You choke on your own tears as Ryujin scrambles to find her phone to call for help.

Your mind can’t help but to make a terrible comparison, one that you thought you would never have to relive.

This was exactly how you found your parents, all those years ago.

~

“Mom! Dad!” You call out from your bedroom. “You guys forgot to turn off the hallway light!”

You tightly hug your stuffed rabbit as you wait for one of your parents to respond. They were the two people you trusted most in the world, even though you were a young teenager.

Making friends didn’t come easy to you, especially not in high school, when most of the friend groups had already been decided.

You did talk to this one girl in your math class - Ryujin - but she was more of a study buddy than anything. A friend that simply saw you as a means to an end.

How tragic.

“Mom! Dad!” You call out for them again, wait for a response, and then get out of bed. “I wanted to stay curled up in bed, but I can’t do that when you guys are ignoring me!”

You sigh before putting on your slippers and trudging towards the hallway.

You exit your bedroom and turn to the left as you find the lightswitch with ease. That, however, isn’t what peaks your interest.

It’s the steady stream of a red liquid coming from the master bathroom.

“Mom…” You trail off before walking towards the door. “Dad?”

As you approach, a metal tang hits your nose. It isn’t any red liquid - it’s blood.

~

Red and white lights consume your vision as you sit on the steps of the front porch. In the distance, you can hear Ryujin talking with one of the paramedics, but it all feels like white noise to you.

Could it really be? Could the same entity that killed my parents really have done this to Yuna?

It’s all a jumble of lights, endless questioning, and paranoia until a hand meets your shoulder.

You look up at Ryujin, who tries to give you a forced smile.

“What did they say?” You softly ask as Ryujin takes a seat next to you.

“They think it was a stroke, or some other heart condition. That’s the only thing that could’ve caused her eyes to be like that.”

“Her eyes were liquified, just like my parents.” You quietly say. “Paramedics said they died of strokes, too.”

“But I don’t get it. Yuna ate healthy, exercised regularly, and didn’t seem stressed at all. That’s why they’re looking into suicide as a cause of death too.”

“You can’t be serious, Ryujin,” You glare at her. “Suicide?”

“We never really know what’s going on in someone’s head.” She shrugs before letting her head fall between her knees. “How are we going to tell her family about this? We should’ve been in there with her, maybe we could’ve caught the signs sooner-”

You lean your head against her shoulder and offer her a bit of comfort.

“Trust me, dreading the past doesn’t help at all.”

“What are we supposed to do, then?” 

When Ryujin lifts her head to meet your eyes, she hides her face in a valiant effort to hide her red eyes and quiet sniffles. You gently rub circles into her back as she grabs your shoulders and pulls you closer to her.

“We grieve, we remember, and we move forward with our lives.”

~

“Hustling for pool money again?” Siyeon asks, not daring to lift her eyes from the newspaper.

“Uh-huh.” SuA tosses a stack of cash on the bar table. “What do you think?”

“That it’s better than the credit card scams, but worse than an actual job.” Siyeon bluntly says before SuA grabs a chair, spins it around, and takes a seat.

“Think what you want, but it’s money and it’s right there.” She proudly smiles before looking at Siyeon. “Speaking of jobs, have you found anything?”

“This might interest you.” Siyeon grabs a pen and circles an article in the paper before tossing it to SuA.

“What am I looking at?”

“A girl from a prominent family died about a month ago. Shin Yuna was her name.” Siyeon explains.

“What’s so special about her that requires our… unique expertise?”

“Read the autopsy report in the paper. Her eyes were completely liquified, and they found most of the blood in her body within her skull. They claim that her cause of death was a stroke.”

“No shit.” SuA bites her lips as her eyes gloss over the page. “Are we dealing with a pissed-off spirit, a deranged vampire, or something else?”

“I say that we give it a look before those men over there get mad at you for your hustling.” Siyeon grabs her jacket as SuA takes a sip of beer from the stein in front of her.

“Hustling is an underappreciated art form.” SuA argues before putting on her leather jacket. “Let’s go.”

Siyeon shrugs before grabbing the newspaper from SuA.

“Let’s go.”

~

“This feels wrong.” Siyeon raises her fist to the door before looking back to SuA’s ‘67 Chevy Impala. “Are you sure there isn’t anyone else we can talk to first?”

“Family and next of kin is always the best source.” SuA adjusts the aviators on her face as she admires her reflection in a side view mirror. “We have to rule out witchcraft and demonic possession, just so we can be sure that we’re dealing with a pissed-off spirit.”

“Yuna’s family… her parents have been through enough. Should we really not start anywhere else?” Siyeon’s hesitation causes SuA to sigh and walk towards the house.

“Where has this hesitation come from? It’s not like you.” SuA places her sunglasses on the top of her head before knocking on the door.

Siyeon crinkles her nose in disapproval before moving to the side.

“Mr. and Mrs. Shin, a moment of your time!” SuA calls out while banging on their front door.

She stops for a moment and waits for an answer, but no one responds or comes to the door.

“They must be out of town.” Siyeon shrugs before watching SuA grab a bobby pin from her hair. “Don’t tell me you’re going to-”

“You said they weren’t home,” She argues, “and we have to learn about our victim one way or another.”

She places one knee on the ground as she lowers herself to be eye-level with the door. One hand grabs the door knob while the other takes the bobby pin and begins to mess with the lock and-

Easy does it, baby.

“Hey, I’m pretty sure trespassing is illegal in all parts of the world!” A voice yells, which breaks SuA’s concentration.

Startled, she launches herself to her feet before Siyeon walks backwards and falls into SuA, sending them both to the ground.

“Nice one.” SuA grumbles before Siyeon scoots aside.

“You tried breaking in!”

“You encouraged it!”

“You two have to be the worst thieves I’ve ever seen.” A pink-haired girl walks from the next-door house to greet them at Yuna’s home. “Or you’re the next Nancy Drew in-training.”

“Who are you?” SuA quickly stands up before offering a hand to Siyeon.

Siyeon takes the hand and quickly reaches for her wallet in her back pocket, most likely looking for whatever fake ID will get them out of a potential cop car ride.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” She innocently tilts her head as her piercing gaze makes SuA sweat under her leather jacket. “The nearest police station is five minutes away, and I know the deputy’s daughter-”

“Ryujin, that’s enough!”

SuA lets out a heavy breath as her knight in shining pajamas appears at Ryujin’s side. With messy bed hair and a kind smile, they look much less terrifying (and much cuter) than Ryujin.

~

“Ryujin, that’s enough!” You march towards Yuna’s house as Ryujin sheepishly backs down from the two women in front of her. “They’re probably interns at a newspaper who were sent to look into Yuna’s death.”

“Yeah, sorry we forgot to mention that to you.” The taller one rubs her neck before putting her wallet away. “I left my college ID in my car, I can go get it for you if you’d like-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” You shrug before looking at her, “Names are enough for me.”

“Siyeon.” The taller girl sticks out her hand, which you gladly shake.

“And you?” You look over to the smaller girl, who simply smirks.

“You can call me the woman of your dreams.” She flashes you a charming smile before Siyeon elbows her in the gut. “Fuck! What was that for?”

“Her name’s SuA.” Siyeon apologetically says as SuA grabs her stomach in pain. “She can be a bit… much at times.”

You simply smile at SuA, who leans against the doorframe to look tougher.

And less like a child who got their hand stuck in the cookie jar.

Cute.

“SuA, Siyeon, it’s nice to meet you,” You say before quickly introducing yourself, “and this is Ryujin.”

“You still didn’t tell me why you’re knocking at our dead friend’s front door.” She deadpans as you place a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s better that they bug us instead of her parents,” You say, “who have been out of town since the funeral. Rumor is that they’re going to sell the place, but it’ll most likely get torn down.”

“Right. No one wants to live in a house where a woman died.” Siyeon looks at the door for a moment. “Is there any way we could look inside? For our article, we need a full biography of the victim, and we thought her childhood home might fill in the pieces that we don’t know.”

“Yuna.” Ryujin sternly corrects Siyeon. “Her name is Yuna.”

“I-” Siyeon pauses, rethinking her answer. “Yuna, of course. Apologies.”

Ryujin scoffs before nodding. 

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable being in there without her parents’ permission, but we can talk to you in Ryujin’s house.” You clarify before Ryujin can say something argumentative in response.

That, however, does not completely stop her from responding as Ryujin’s head snaps towards you.

“You can’t be serious! They’re strangers-”

“-Yet, they’re much better than the other reporters and photographs that have come around here.” You say before beckoning SuA and Siyeon towards Ryujin’s house. “C’mon, we can tell you everything you need to know. We were her closest friends, and we were there when she died.”

You don’t miss the way that SuA’s eyes light up when you say the last part.

She must be really invested in this case.

~

“This hot chocolate is really good.” SuA remarks before offering her glass to you. “Want some?”

“No, I’m alright,” You lean towards SuA with a smile, “but Ryujin’s coffees are so much better.”

“Are you shit-talking my hot chocolate?” Ryujin yells from the kitchen as you slide into the stool next to SuA.

“I thought you said it was okay to do so, as long as you said your coffees were better!” You holler back as Siyeon takes a seat next to SuA.

“My coffee is fantastic, by the way!” Ryujin says as you chuckle to yourself.

Never change, Ryujin.

“Maybe I could buy you some, as a treat for your hospitality?” SuA gives you a wide grin before nudging your shoulder.

“Maybe.” You teasingly shrug before looking at Siyeon. “Are you sure you don’t want anything besides water?”

“No, I’m alright. I feel like we’re imposing on you already.” Siyeon gives SuA a sharp glare before looking back at you. “Do you mind if we ask you some questions about Yuna? It’s not exactly surface-level stuff, and if we cross any boundaries, be sure t-”

“-Did you notice anything weird going on with Yuna before she died?” SuA enters the conversation with the gracefulness of a one-ton elephant. “Any flickering lights, sulfur around window sills, increasing or decreasing temperatures…”

“No, none of that,” You shake your head before thinking, “but there was one thing that she did say, before she died.”

“What was it?” SuA looks deep into your eyes, and you’d blush under any other circumstance.

“The three of us - me, Ryujin, and Yuna - were in the bathroom a few minutes before she died. When we were in there, Yuna was teasing me and she started chanting Bloody Mary in the mirror. I stopped her before she got to the third one, but I can’t help but wonder…”

You bow your head for a moment to recollect yourself before speaking again.

“...I’m sorry, you didn’t come for speculation. So no, there wasn’t anything weird with Yuna before she died.”

You glance over at Siyeon, then to SuA. The two girls are staring at each other with an intrigued look on their faces.

They can’t actually believe this story, right?

“Have there been any other deaths like this in town?” Siyeon asks.

Here we go.

“Two, actually,” You start to chew on your lip, “my parents.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” 

The words fly out of Siyeon’s mouth as she tries to pick her jaw up off the table. 

“Don’t be, it was seven years ago. But yes, when I found them, their eyes were liquified, just like Yuna’s.” You offer a weak smile to your companions, both of which look like they’d rather be five feet under the ground than right next to you.

And everyone wonders why I don’t like to talk about my parents - the response is always similar to this.

“Can I ask a stupid question?” SuA takes a sip from her mug after responding.

“Shoot.”

“Did you play Bloody Mary before your parents died?”

Your eyes widen as SuA’s bluntness.

“I-”

“SuA!” Siyeon reaches behind you to smack SuA on the shoulder. “Why would you ask something like that?”

“I’m forming a theory on what’s happened here,” She pauses for dramatic effect, “a damn good one if you ask me.”

Siyeon clears her throat before grabbing her water and standing up.

“Alright, we’re done here. Pardon my partner’s rudeness.” Siyeon walks over to SuA and hauls her onto her feet.

“But my hot cocoa-” SuA whines, which causes you to laugh.

“It’ll be here if you have any more questions.” You wave at the two girls as they bicker and exit the house at the same time.

Ryujin slowly approaches from the kitchen with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Why’d you tell them all that? You know they’re not reporters, right?”

“I don’t know, Ryujin,” You say before patting the vacant stool on your left, “there was something different about those two. They might just be nosy tourists, but I think they might be able to find something in connection with Yuna and my parents.”

“Be honest - you just let them in because SuA was eye-fucking you-”

“RYUJIN!”

~

“Alright, SuA, what’s your theory?” Siyeon places her feet on the dashboard before SuA swats them away in disapproval.

“We’re not dealing with a demon or a vampire or a werewolf. This is just a seriously pissed-off spirit. One that looks like Blood Mary, apparently.” SuA says before turning the car to the left. “We need to look into unsolved murders in the area. Perhaps one that has to do with eyes?”

“Spirits do like to kill their victims in ways that resemble how their murderer killed them. A twisted sort of revenge.” Siyeon nods along. “What would cause the spirit to attack once, and then not attack until seven years later? Usually, these sort of killings happen in rapid succession.”

“That’s the part that has me stumped, too.” SuA pulls into the motel parking lot with ease before putting the car into park. “Let’s get some sleep and see what we can figure out in the morning.”

~

“Shit.”

SuA runs her fingers through her hair as she stares at the headline for the morning news broadcast on TV.

A Deadly Sleepover: Three Teens Found Dead in Local Home!

“You think it’s our spirit?” Siyeon asks as SuA places her head into her hands.

“They said that the girls had their eyes liquified.” SuA absentmindedly looks up to the ceiling.

Why does there always have to be more deaths before we catch our murderer?

SuA watches Siyeon sort through a few newspaper clips while looking at her computer.

“Tell me you’ve got a lead.” SuA taps her foot against the motel flooring as Siyeon nods.

“I do. I cross-referenced local unsolved murders with any autopsy reports of eye gouging or similar injuries, but I couldn’t find anything on the victim’s side.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” SuA asks as Siyeon hands the computer to her.

“Look here. Lucinda Brown, 25 years old. She was murdered in her home by an older man who had his eyes gouged out at the scene of the crime.”

“Jesus.” SuA scrolls through the autopsy reports. “You think this is our girl?”

“Timeline matches up. Lucinda was murdered twenty years before any murders occurred here. That’s enough time to drive any person, living or dead, to insanity. Speaking of, her murderer managed to escape jail time by pleading that he was mentally unwell at the time of the murder.” Siyeon replies.

“Alright, so what do we do now? Dig up some old bones and give them a communion in fire?” SuA suggests, which is quickly shot down by Siyeon.

“The woman was cremated, so that’s a no-go. There must be something else tying her to the mortal world.” Siyeon ponders for a moment. “Let me see the laptop again.”

“Sure.” SuA hands it back to Siyeon before looking at the TV.

The reporter’s interviewing a neighbor who had heard nothing of the incident, except that the girls had been playing Bloody Mary with a handheld mirror in the backyard.

“Bingo,” With a satisfying click, Siyeon turns the laptop to face SuA, "we've got our object of interest.”

On the laptop monitor is a picture of the crime scene from Lucinda Brown’s home. It’s obvious that this was a home invasion - a dresser was knocked down in the background, sheets were tangled with each other on the floor, and blood was splattered across every possible surface in the room.

No wonder the family cremated the poor girl.

SuA’s eyes drift up towards the middle of the picture, where a floor-length mirror stares back at her. In the middle of the mirror, written in blood, is a simple message: Help Me.

“She knew she was going to die there.” SuA softly says. “One last act of rebellion against her killer. I think we’ve got our ghost, but the question remains: where’s that mirror?”

~

“I can’t believe you still kept the thrift store, after all of these years.” Ryujin adjusts the cap on her head before leaning over the counter. “I know it’s your parents, but that place gives me the creeps.”

“I know.” You nod as you stare out of the cafe window. “There’s just a part of me that would hate to see it go to ruin.”

“So you just leave it in limbo?”

“So I just leave it in limbo.” You answer as she looks over to the register. 

“You could always come work with me, y’know. I might own this place one day.” Ryujin’s eyes sparkle with ambition, and you can’t help but laugh at her goals.

“You work on that, Ryujin.” You take a step back before the door opens. “Well, if it isn’t our reporter friends.”

“Friends?” SuA scoffs before walking in. “I thought I left a better impression than friends.”

“Maybe I want you to make a better impression now.” You tease before grabbing your coffee. “Order something first, and then we’ll talk.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” SuA rushes over to talk with Ryujin, which causes laughter to fall from your lips.

Wonder if she’s like this with every person she meets…

“Siyeon.” You greet her as she admires the display of baked goods. “You should try the donuts so Ryujin doesn’t have to burn anything in the oven.”

“It was one time!” Ryujin yells as she writes SuA’s order on a cup.

“I’ll get something in a minute, but I wanted to ask you if you saw the news this morning.” Siyeon places her hand on the display case as her eyes look through the different options.

“I did, yes,” You lower your voice before asking, “do you think it’s related to the other deaths?”

“Given that the girls had the same wounds that Yuna did, I’d say there’s a strong chance that it is.” Siyeon quietly answers.

“Do you know how to stop them?”

“We have a strong idea. Have you seen a mirror like this?” Siyeon grabs a folded-up piece of paper and hands it to you.

You grab the paper and carefully unfold it, and you gasp as you stare at the crime scene in front of you.

“I-” You pause as you notice the mirror in the corner, “I think I’ve seen that mirror before. My parents used to have one just like it in the thrift shop that they owned.”

Siyeon’s eyes widen as she looks over at SuA.

“I’m listening, hold on.” SuA hands her card to Ryujin before walking over to the two of you. “Mind if we take a look around there?”

“I thought you wanted to have a coffee shop date.” You smile as she bashfully looks away for a moment.

“Ah, so now it’s a date.” SuA chuckles before leaning against the counter. “We can change plans, as long as you don’t mind having a third wheel.”

“As long as you two aren’t making out in the back of the Impala, I don’t really care.” Siyeon shrugs before Ryujin hands her a baked good.

“Here’s one slightly toasted-but-not-burnt donut.” Ryujin says before grabbing a coffee from the back. “And your black coffee, you heathen.”

“I prefer my coffee black instead of liquid sugar, thanks.” SuA remarks before taking a sip. “Perfect.”

“Whatever.” Ryujin rolls her eyes before looking out of the window. “Hey, did you see that woman?”

“What woman?” You look out to the road, but there’s not one car or person outside except the Chevy Impala.

You notice the visible panic on Siyeon’s face as she walks over to Ryujin. 

“What does she look like?”

“Well, she had pretty blonde hair, but her face was a little messed up. It almost looked like she was dead or something…” Ryujin confesses.

“Fuck.” SuA sets her coffee aside before grabbing Ryujin. 

“What are you doing?” She frantically looks around as SuA drags her to the car.

“If you want to live, you have to come with us.” 

The door slams shut as Siyeon follows after her.

“We’ll explain in the car, I swear.”

~

“Are you serious?” Ryujin breathes deeply through her nose as Siyeon covers the rearview mirror with a small towel. “If so, I’m fucked.”

“But she didn’t say Bloody Mary three times!” You try to reason with SuA as she steps on the gas after pulling out from the parking spot.

“It doesn’t seem to matter who said it.” SuA runs a red light in town as you fumble with the keys in your hand. “What can you tell us about that mirror in your parents’ thrift shop?”

“I remember that they sold it to a woman in our neighborhood, a few weeks before they…” You trail off. “You’re telling me that this mirror killed my mom and dad?”

“Not the mirror as much as the spirit attached to this.” Siyeon says as she lowers the passenger seat window.

“This is insane, right?” Ryujin looks over to you with a look of fear that doesn’t normally sit on her face. “I can’t believe that you believe this!”

“I mean… I’ve always felt that there was something wrong about their deaths, but I didn’t think it was a literal haunting. I just thought it was a mean rumor that the neighborhood kids saw.”

“The same kids that would play Bloody Mary with that mirror?” SuA asks as you point out the thrift shop in the distance.

“You guys have done more to solve my parents murder in the last twenty-four hours than the police have done in seven years.” You shake your head. “I don’t know how I could thank you.”

“Let’s save your friend first, and then let’s talk about thank you’s, alright?” SuA pulls into a nearby parking spot as you hand Siyeon the keys.

“Are you positive that the mirror is here?” Ryujin looks over to you as you nod.

“The woman who bought that mirror had died a few weeks later, of an actual stroke, and one of her children took it with them when they moved out of her house.” You explain as SuA nods along.

“That explains the lack of murders in seven years, but that means someone brought it back to your town.” 

“I’ve used the thrift shop as a storage unit since my parents’ house was torn down two years ago. A few weeks ago, I saw that someone placed a floor-length mirror outside of the back door, so I brought it inside so it wouldn’t get smashed.” You hand the picture back to Siyeon. “The same mirror in that photo, minus the bloody message.”

“I hate to rush the exposition, but I’ve seen Bloody Mary in your side mirror.” Ryujin says before slapping a hand over your eyes. “Can we please get this show on the road?”

“Right. You get the hammer, I’ll get the shotgun.” Siyeon says as she and SuA exit the car at the same time.

“I’m fucked, aren’t I?” Ryujin whimpers as you rub her shoulder. 

“They hunt ghosts, or whatever they tried to explain to us. We have to keep you alive long enough for them to deal with this.” You attempt to comfort her as you hear the trunk of the car slam shut.

You roll down the window as SuA approaches your side of the car.

“Hey, be careful out there. I still want to get coffee with you sometime.” You offer her a cheerful smile as she runs a hand through her hair.

“You don’t have to worry about me, babe, I’ve got you. Both of you.” SuA winks at you before walking towards the thrift shop.

You shyly look away as Ryujin punches your shoulder.

“Can you flirt with her when I’m not near certain death?”

~

“Of course there isn’t any electricity.” SuA quietly grumbles before flipping the light switch off. “Where did they say the mirrors were?”

“Up ahead, and to the left.” Siyeon says before following your instructions. “Here we are.”

“How many mirrors are there?” SuA says as she looks at the collection of floor-length mirrors. “Do we start smashing, or…?”

“Maybe if we summon her, she will appear from the mirror that was in her house.” Siyeon says before turning to a mirror hung on the wall.

“That’s a terrible idea that will get us both killed.” SuA tries to pull Siyeon away, but Siyeon pushes her aside. “Don’t do this, I’m warning you.”

“Too late.” Siyeon locks eyes with the reflection in the mirror. “Bloody Mary, Blood Mary, Bloody Mary.”

The lights above them flicker as SuA approaches the first set of mirrors. The reflection of the flashing lights nearly blinds her, but she manages to smash the first one with little difficulty.

“Do you see her?” SuA yells before smashing another mirror.

“Not yet!” Siyeon calls out before turning to the side. “Keep going!”

The lights flash with increasing frequency as SuA continues to break every floor-length mirror that crosses her path.

Why would anyone ever have so many mirrors?

Again and again, SuA smashes every mirror that she sees. And again, none of them seem to stop the flashing lights. She travels deeper and deeper as her hammer strikes every mirror in her path.

SuA’s deep into the back of the thrift shop when Siyeon screams in pain.

“Siyeon-ah!” SuA yells out before running through a different part of the store.

How many different types of mirrors are there?

“She’s… here!” Siyeon manages to get out before another scream escapes her.

SuA doesn’t have time to smash every mirror she sees - she has to find the mirror, and fast.

She flies through the store, to the musical accompaniment of Siyeon’s sounds of terror and pain, until she spots a mirror with the tiniest bloodstain on it.

“Guess the mirror wasn’t totally clean, huh.” She says to herself before the hammer connects to the mirror.

It shatters instantly, just as Siyeon goes quiet. 

“Siyeon!” SuA backtracks quickly, only to find Siyeon laying on the floor with blood coming from her eyes. “You okay?”

“I’ll live,” She mutters before slowly getting off of the floor, “but she won’t.”

Siyeon weakly points ahead of her, where a woman that matches Ryujin’s descriptions and the autopsy report disappears into a cloud of black smoke.

“You think she’s gone for good?” Siyeon quietly asks.

“As long as the mirror stays shattered, I’d say so.”

~

“I suppose I should say thank you.” You say as you approach the Chevy Impala.

SuA leans against the driver’s side door with a smirk.

“I suppose I should say that you’re welcome, but I think an apology is in order.”

She sheepishly looks away as you wave off her concerns.

“Don’t worry about the mirrors. They’re not worth the price of someone’s life.” You look over to the thrift shop. “Besides, it’s time that I let that place go. It’s just a collection of bad memories and poor decisions. Something more positive and welcoming should take its place.”

“You’re selling it?” 

“No, I’m giving it to Ryujin. She’s dreamed of owning her own coffee shop since she started working at that little cafe uptown.” You gaze at the keys in your hand. “She’ll make better use of the space, I know it.”

SuA tilts her head at you.

“How is she?”

“Fine. Nothing that a pint of beer and a bit of therapy won’t fix.” You laugh to yourself. “How’s Siyeon?”

“A bit shaken up, but nothing major. Brushes with death are pretty common in our line of work.” 

“Well, for your sake and mine, I hope you’ll be a bit safer through your travels.” You bite your lip as SuA takes a step toward you.

“You’ll be thinking of me, even after we leave? How sweet.” SuA teases you before you retaliate.

“It’s not every day that I meet a girl as forthcoming, kind, and attractive as you.” You flirt back before taking a step towards SuA.

It’s in this moment that you realize how close you are to one another, and another step from one of you will cause your bodies (and hopefully your lips) to collide.

“If you keep sweet-talking me, I might not be able to leave.”

There’s a shred of honesty behind SuA’s flirting - she’s seriously considering staying for another night or two.

“Maybe that’s the idea,” You take a half-step forward, and you place a quick peck on her cheek, “but you have more people to save, no?”

“Unfortunately, I do, but I’m not ruining this moment.”

SuA pulls you closer by grabbing your hips, and before you have time to relax, her lips collide with yours. You immediately kiss her back as your hands land on her shoulders.

You only break off when you need air, and SuA looks at you with a proud smile.

“Maybe I’ll come back some day.” She lets go of you before pulling her aviators off of her head.

“Maybe.” You softly repeat as SuA climbs into the car.

Siyeon offers you a friendly wave before rolling down her window and handing you a piece of paper.

“For later, when you miss SuA.” She says before the Impala pulls out of the parking spot and heads back onto the road.

After the car leaves your field of vision, you look at the note in your hand.

Written in pen is SuA’s phone number, followed by a brief message:

For when you miss SuA, or if anything in this town ever requires our area of expertise. - Siyeon.

You smile to yourself.

Maybe you’ll call the Winchester girl and see if she’s free for a week or two in the future. Maybe you’ll call just to hear her voice and ask about her adventures. Maybe you’ll wait for her to track down your phone number and call you first.

maybe, maybe, maybe.