#every time a new song (in this case not exactly new) drops i have to play it at work or i die

[duststooooorm]

tomorrow i will “forget” that my manager asked me to only play christmas music and pavlove will “accidentally” start playing on the work bluetooth

[thinkinonsense]

I CAN SEE YOU✰

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: curing, slightly nsfw, tiniest mention of blood

*mdni

wc: 900+

a/n: another one shot inspired by a song lmao. this time it is i can see you by taylor swift. thank you for all the love on my last one! this one is short n sweet too so i hope you enjoy <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

It had been three years since you graduated from the school. Everyone was excited about your return. Storm and Scott picked you up from the train station downtown. It was an unexpected surprise when Professor Xavier reached out, asking you to teach for a semester. He has always been an important influence in your life; having brought you in as a troubled teenager. Being an X-Men changed your life for the better.

"You are going to love all the new students!" Storm smiles, helping Scott and you carry in your bags.

"I can't wait to meet them!"

Once everything was inside, you headed upstairs to your old room with a suitcase in hand. The room was located on the farthest end of the mansion, which was secluded and quiet; away from all the chaos. You never would've guessed what was on the other side of the door.

"Do you mind?"

There, lying in your old bed, a scruffy, annoyed, attractive man who looked double your age, smoking a cigar on his back. You freeze drinking in his appearance.

Who the hell was this man in your room?

"This is my room." You question if you opened the wrong door or took a left instead of a right. Nope, that was your old bookshelf and bedframe.

"I'm pretty sure this is my room." He replies, cocking his head to the side.

"No, you're in my bed." You bite back, growing more irritated with the stranger.

"This is my bed, sweetheart." He glares at you while his eyes linger down your figure.

He found your angered expression adorable. The way your nose scrunched a little and your hand found its way onto your hip. Your pretty short black skirt captivated him. If it wasn't for the stick up your ass, he would've been more than willing to let you stay in his bedroom.

"That's my bookshelf!" You pointed out. "And that is my bedframe!"

"Well, if that's the case, you need a new bedframe." His voice drops in a way that makes your stomach turn in a dangerous yet delicious way.

A small gasp leaves your mouth before you can catch yourself. Not wanting to see that stupid smirk on his face, you whip your head around and stomp downstairs to Professor Xaviers' office.

✰

It's been weeks since your first encounter with Logan. Ever since you had to move to a new room, you've avoided him at all costs. If what Scott has told you is any truth of Logan's character, then you knew he was trouble.

Despite your attempts to stay far away from him, Logan had other plans. Caught in every corner; stuck at every turn, he managed to capture you. He would go out of his way to brush past you in hallways. Even in crowded rooms, his eyes shamelessly burned holes into you.

The worst of it was when he would sit in during your lectures. Half of your mind focused on the lesson while the other half ran wild with the thought of him watching you.

If you weren't careful, you would cave.

Which was exactly what Logan wanted. He knew it was wrong to need you as badly as he did. You were so much younger than him yet you pranced around the mansion like you knew everything. He didn't want Charles to know about the feelings string inside of him. You had barely been gone three years, there's so much you hadn't experienced yet. The last thing anyone wanted was for Logan to taint you.

✰

On Friday nights you would stay in your classroom grading papers until the early morning hours. This Friday was no exception. It was almost two am when you scribbled a B+ on the final stack of papers. You stood up, leaving all your belongings in the classroom until Monday morning; desperately wanting to be in bed. Once you locked the door and turned down the hallway, you saw him coming up the stairs.

"What do you want, Mister. Howlett?" You glare at him. Logan's eyes darkened at the way you addressed him.

For such a mouthy girl, you did have some manners.

"You've been avoiding me." He states, following closely behind you. The clothing you wore drove him insane. Tight tops, unbelievably short skirts, and dresses. If Logan could die, he's sure it would've been at your hands.

"You've noticed? I figured you would have been too busy getting rejected by Jean to care."

The comment was supposed to sting painfully for him; instead, it backfired on you.

Of course, you noticed the way he shamelessly flirted with the redhead. It plagued your mind ever since you saw it happen with your own eyes. The way he gawked at her unapologetically, even with her boyfriend present. You would never admit it but it made you bitter, to say the least.

"Oh, I see..." Logan smirks.

"See what?"

"I can see you." His words make you freeze up. "You're jealous."

You roll your head back and laugh at his accusation; despite the truth it held.

Without hesitation, Logan grabs your hips and pins you up against the wall. You whine as your back makes contact with the cold grey wall. His grip tightens at the noise you let out.

"Not only can I see the effect I have on you..." Logan's voice is rough against the shell of your ear. "I can hear and smell it, sweetheart."

A flush of red creeps its way up your pretty face in the low light. Logan groans when he pulls back and sees it for himself. The second you are face-to-face, you pull him. A rush of teeth clashing into each other messily. One of your hands rests on his jaw while the other knotted itself in his hair. Logan's right hand slides up your thigh and under your skirt as he picks you up. You bite and tug on his lower lip; until you can taste the tiniest bit of blood. Both of you were desperate for each other.

"My room." You mumble against his lips. Logan chuckles, knowing that the only room on this side of the mansion is his current bedroom.

This will have to be your little secret.

[xuchiya]

"Let's count" || drabble || song mingi

Mingi had you in his lap as he had his earphones on, working on a song that he thought of while you played on the switch that Seonghwa gave you on your birthday. As your character flew of the track, your body slump on Mingi as you sigh in frustration; having to play the round over and over again. You have been playing for over a hour and half which it has been long since you got to the studio.

As much as you want to know what your boyfriend's occupation, you were curious as to how he does the beat and how he perfectly time them with the vocals and other beats.

So with a gentle tap, Mingi turned to you with his eyes open, curiosly and asking you through his eyes, "I'm curious how you do it..." You spoke, pointing at the screen. He turns towards the screen then back to you.

"Well it's quite complicated to explain but i'll simply explain it for you." Your heart fluttered at how considerate he was. You nodded, enthusiastically. With the sudden boost of excitement in your nerves, you adjusted yourself on his lap to get yourself more comfortable as you always do whenever you wanted to digest a new skill or topic.

That is until you later, realise what you have been doing and slowly glance at Mingi's hard gaze. Mingi had no time to open his mouth to tell you to stand up so he could adjust the seat but you already had yourself wiggling on his lap, awakening what is not supposed to be awakened.

And he had to swallow a thick groan as your ass swipe exactly on his dick.

"I- ... Uhm let's go to it?" You awkawardly chuckle, turning to the screen with your back leaning a little further from him. Mingi scoffs, placing back the headphones in but only with one ear covering, then trapping your body between his and the table as his fingers run across the keyboard and the other gripping the mouse tightly.

You felt him closing the gap, his chest pressing on your back as you watch the cursor moves towards the blank music bar.

"Before we start, you know time signatures right?" you nodded, as you watch him open a file where at least few files with the names of time signatures are written. he opened the folders and click the first file and soon, by the speakers you heard the beats going off.

"But how do you know that the beat is that kind of signature?" you turn leaning on your left to glance at his face, he looks at you with a smirk, "Usually it is discussed but in cases like this, you come up with a beat that is suitable to your taste."

Mingi pressed the spacebar and you felt your head nodding at the beat of 4/4. Your mouth formed a 'o' shaped as you realized that they do based on this beat to create a fantastic, upbeat music.

As Mingi explains the beats, you couldn't help but be slightly distracted what is poking you underneath. Every time you moved, you felt his dick going in between your sweats and between your cheeks, some time it would nudge your aching pussy as he would lean forward or backward. You were more than slightly distracted now.

"...are you even listening?" Before you could answer that you were, you felt Mingi's large hands gripping your waist as he leans on your ear, his usual tone, now dropping to a lower and sensual one.

"maybe this could help you ... understand more."

as you knew Mingi having the biggest dick you have seen and usually you two would be fucking like rabbits in broad daylight in your apartment. Whether it would be him, drilling your pussy in a missionary position, your legs were on your sides as you were both chest to chest; you screaming so blissfully in his ear as your pussy glisten from the multiple creampies he gave you.

Or when you were both in the kitchen, having your legs thrown over his shoulders as he rams in and out of your velvety walls as knead your sides or boobs in his warm palms.

Or it would be him, riding him by the balcony. Your back facing him as you bounce yourself on his dick, creating such lewd sound as the sun sets over the horizon; behind the other buildings.

Either way, his dick still makes you flinch from how big he is.

"One..." You felt the tip slowly entering you as guides you down lower and lower on his dick. You whimper, gripping his forearms.

"Two ..." You gasped before following a sensual cry as you felt his fingers on your clit, rubbing in eight motion slowly.

"Three ... sweetheart, we're not even halfway." You threw your head back as it become too much and it always felt like that. Being full even if it was still few inches in but that's Mingi and his huge drill gun.

You heard Mingi took a deep breath in before sinking you further into his dick, "... four."

"Mingi~"

His chest rumbles as he chuckles dryly, "We still have more things to ... cover and we're just getting started."

[tavolgisvist]

Paul and drums

Our kid was first in a group with John called Quarrymen, and apparently, I’d forgotten the set of drums fell off the back of a lorry, as we say in Liverpool, and landed up in our house. So I was learning drums, and one of the Quarrymen came back and said, ‘I remember you’re coming down the house, and it was great when you played drums for us.’ I said, ‘Did I?’ I’d totally forgotten. But then I realized why I forgot. It’s because I broke my arm in a scout camp, and this hand dropped. It was dead, paralyzed. So it took several years to get it back, and at that time, those drums that I was learning on, first of all, my brother, no wonder the drums on the band on the road are good. That’s where he learned it from my drums. But I couldn’t play anything then. So I’d forgotten that I was even the drummer, and Ringo got the job.

(Mike McCartney)

Mersey Beat Founder and Editor, Bill Harry wrote a guest column for Beatle Fan Magazine in 2019. He stated “For their August 7, 1961 gig, the Litherland Town Hall classified advertisement in the Liverpool Echo carried the message: ‘Hear Pete Best Sing Tonight.’ Best had been talked into performing the song “Pinwheel Twist,” which Paul had written for him to sing. Pete recalled in a conversation with Spencer Leigh: ‘Paul wrote the song and asked me to do it. He coupled it with Joey Dee’s hit “The Peppermint Twist.’ I used to get up and do the twist onstage and Paul played my drums. It was a little novelty act and it went down well with the fans. When The Beatles performed it, Paul took over on drums, George played Paul’s left-handed bass right-handed and Pete sang.”

(Source)

I used to get on Pete’s case a bit. He’d often stay out all night. He got to know a stripper and they were boyfriend and girlfriend. She didn’t finish work until four in the morning, so he’d stay up with her and roll back at about ten in the morning and be going to bed when we were starting work…

(Paul McCartney, Anthology, 2001)

Q: When did you first play drums? A: My first recollection is in Hamburg. You’d get behind the kit to try and show the drummer what you wanted. That gradually grew to messing around on other people’s kits, which were lying around because there were a lot of groups playing in the places we played. You picked up the simplest beats very naturally. I remember one evening when Tony Sheridan’s drummer didn’t show up, so Tony said, “Come on, man, sit in!” I said, “No way! I can’t do this.” And he said, “Yeah, you can.” So I did it and then I was thinking, “Well! I’ve actually done a professional drumming gig!” Later, with The Beatles, there was a period where John, George, and I operated as a trio and picked up little bits of work. I remember playing in an illegal club in somebody’s basement on Upper Parliament Street in Liverpool’s Caribbean Quarter. One day this guy called Lord Woodbine, who ran the club, asked if we’d come in and accompany this stripper called Janine. We said, “Wow! Yeah, man! There’s a job.” He even paid us money. Q: It sounds like you would have paid him for that gig. A: Exactly [laughs]. So she came in and said, “Okay, I need you to play Ravel’s Bolero.” We said, “Oh, gee. Sorry, luv. We don’t read music. But we’ve got ’Raunchy.’ That might do.” I had somebody’s old drum kit, and I sat there with a broomstick between my legs, with a microphone tied to it so I could do a bit of vocals and drum at the same time. It was hilarious.

(Paul McCartney, interview with Robert L. Doerschuk for Drum!Magazine, 2005)

Q: When Ringo joined the band, that must have interrupted your emerging career on drums. A: Yeah, I was completely redundant. We loved Ringo so much. He was our favorite drummer in Liverpool, and when he joined the band, it was an explosion: Every song sounded new and fresh. He could pass what we felt was the true test for drummers, which was to be able to play “What’d I Say” — the cymbal work and the toms.

(Paul McCartney, interview with Robert L. Doerschuk for Drum!Magazine, 2005)

We did do a few little bits and pieces together before we all went our separate ways. John and I and Yoko did ‘The Ballad of John and Yoko’. He enlisted me for that because he knew it was a great way to make a record. ‘We’ll go round to Abbey Road Studios. Who lives near there? Paul. Who’s going to drum on this record? Paul. Who can play bass? Paul. And who’ll do it if I ask him nicely? Paul.’ He wasn’t at all sheepish about asking. He probably said something like, ‘Oh, I’ve got this song I want to record. Would you come round?’ And I probably said, ‘Yeah, why not?’

(Paul McCartney, The Lyrics, 2021, about Dear Friend)

Steve Miller happened to be there recording, late at night, and he just breezed in. ‘Hey, what’s happening, man? Can I use the studio?’ ‘Yeah!’ I said. ‘Can I drum for you? I just had a fucking unholy argument with the guys there.’ I explained it to him, took ten minutes to get it off my chest. So I did a track, he and I stayed that night and did a track of his called My Dark Hour. I thrashed everything out on the drums. There’s a surfeit of aggressive drum fills, that’s all I can say about that. We stayed up until late. I played bass, guitar and drums and sang backing vocals. It’s actually a pretty good track. It was a very strange time in my life and I swear I got my first grey hairs that month. I saw them appearing. I looked in the mirror, I thought, I can see you. You’re all coming now. Welcome.

(Paul McCartney in Many Years From Now by Barry Miles, 1997)

I really had to ask myself, “Do I want to give up music, or keep going?” I got a four-track Studer recording machine, like the Beatles used for Sgt. Pepper, put it in the corner of the living-room at my house in London and tried a very simple technique of just plugging directly into the back, not going through a mixing desk. It’s a cool way to record because it’s pure. If, say, I was doing a drum track, I’d play the drums, record it with one microphone, listen to it back, move the mike a little if there wasn’t enough hi-hat or cymbal, and then re-record. Then I’d add bass by plugging the mike into track two and overdubbing while listening to track one through headphones. I’d do that with all with four tracks. It was very hands-on, primitive way of working. <…> It was funky, and still sounds good to me.

(Paul McCartney, “Wingspan” documentary, 2001)

We did not see Ringo until the next night when he arrived at the session. He walked in and went straight to his drums…fiddled with them, then fiddled with them some more. “Somebody did something to my snare drum,” he said irritably. “Paul was here last night. He played them,” explained John. “He’s always fucking around with me things!” It sounded as though Ringo were back in Liverpool and all of them were still teenagers and nothing in their lives had changed. I realized then, that no matter what might happen among them, this was the way they would always relate to each other.

(May Pang, Loving John, 1983)

(Krla Beat, pic by lisamarie-vee)

So, I got into my studio in Scotland and started working, doing the drum track. I normally start with the drums. I sometimes use drum machines, but I like to redo it with real drums. I enjoy drumming. Then I put some bass on it. I was just doing an experimental thing. I was messing around and experimenting. Slowing down tapes, or speeding them up.

(Paul McCartney, The Lyrics, 2021, about Coming Up)

Paul and I were in England, having dinner together [along with our wives]. I told him I was making an EP, and I said, “Why don’t you write me a song?” He wrote the song [Feeling the Sunlight] and put bass on it, he put piano, he put the drums on — and I had to take the drums off. [Laughs.]

(Ringo Starr, interview with Rob Tannenbaum for AARP, Nov 2023)

George was the first one to make a solo album [Wonderwall Music], and I was the drummer. John started the Plastic Ono Band, and I was the drummer. Paul likes to play drums himself, or I would’ve been on his albums too.

(Ringo Starr, interview with Rob Tannenbaum for AARP, Nov 2023)

Q: As strong as you are on bass, keyboards, guitar, and as a singer and writer, is it frustrating to play your drum parts at a more limited level? A: That never intimidates me, though it probably should. I just have so much enthusiasm when I do things that I don’t even consider it. I’m lucky, because some people would wrack themselves with doubt, but when I came to this project I was like, “Man, let’s just have a bit of fun!” It didn’t occur to me that I was some idiot jumping on the kit. I know that a lot of drummers can play rings around me, but as long as I keep it simple and don’t get too flash, I can play with a steady, swampy feel, and that’ll do the job.

(Paul McCartney, interview with Robert L. Doerschuk for Drum!Magazine, 2005)

@i-am-the-oyster, I hope you will enjoy :)

+ this

[thoseboysinblue]

I Kissed Someone New Last Night

Christian Pulisic x reader

You visit your best friend, Christian, in Milan after a break up.

Word count: 4150+

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, mentions of weight loss, mentions of death of parents

Song Inspo: Kelsea Ballerini's Penthouse (Healed Version)

Requested: No

"Come to Milan" he pleads with you through the phone, "I'm worried about you, y/n."

"Christian, you know I can't do that," you frown at him.

"Please," he says quietly, "you've lost too much weight, you're not taking care of yourself, and no offense but you kind of look like shit," he tries to lighten the mood just a bit.

The truth is, there is nothing stopping you from hopping on the next flight to see your best friend and both of you know it. You broke off your engagement a few months ago, after finding out your fiancé was cheating on you. You also recently quit your job because no matter how hard you tried you always were bumping into him and you desperately needed a fresh start.

You had considered moving to Florida to be closer to Christian's family, the only real support system you had left. And even though he was far away, Christian never failed to be there for you through every heartbreak you had endured in your short life.

The night your mom died when the two of you were in high school, he dropped everything to be by your side, staying with you through all of it, holding you when you cried, staying strong for you when you completely fell apart.

He flew home as soon as he heard the news of your father's passing a few years later, and again, he was your rock. As everything in your life seemed to crash down, he was the constant, steady presence.

His family had welcomed you with open arms, including you in their holidays, family vacations, and trips to visit Christian and watch him play. They always made sure you felt like you had a place to call home. In recent years, you had opted to go to Christian for holidays so that he wouldn't have to spend them alone, the two of you setting about creating your own traditions. That was until your ex came along and you felt like you should spend holidays with him, but it broke your heart knowing Christian was spending them alone again.

Christian never really liked your ex, he couldn't put his finger on exactly why, but something about him made his guard go up. And it broke his heart when he found out he was right all along, maybe if he had said something he could have spared you the heartbreak, but you seemed happy and he wasn't going to interfere if that was truly the case.

"Come see me, I'll take care of you, I'll feed you pasta and let you get drunk on Italian wine. We can see the city together, I haven't gotten to do much exploring yet. It will be good for you to get away, take a break, get some fresh air, come on y/n, please?" he continues to plead with you.

"Ok" you whisper and you see his face light up, immediately grabbing his laptop and searching for flights before you have a chance to change your mind.

"How soon can you leave, looks like I can get you on a flight tonight, or tomorrow," he grins into the phone.

"Christian, you don't have to do that, I'll book something," you roll your eyes at him. He never failed to be generous and take care of you, whatever you needed, you didn't even have to ask most of the time.

"Nope. Not happening. Tonight or tomorrow, y/n? You better give me an answer or I'm closing h my eyes and clicking on whatever I land on," he chuckles.

"Fuck it, tonight," you grin at him, the first genuine smile he's seen from you in as long as he can remember.

You have to admit that the thought of landing in Italy tomorrow morning to spend however long you wanted with Christian makes you a little dizzy.

"Ok, pack your bags sweetheart, I'm sending you your boarding pass now," he smiles at you, "fuck I'm so excited to see you, it's been ages since we've gotten to spend time together."

"Christian, I just saw you this summer in Florida," you chuckle at him.

"Yeah, but that was less than 24 hours and you had the dickhead with you so it doesn't really count," he huffs at you.

"Christian this boarding pass says seat 4C, you did not just book me a first class ticket did you, you jackass."

"I sure did, because I can, and because I wanted to, and because there wasn't much left on the flight anyways. Now, get off the phone and start packing. Call me when you leave for the airport. Love you, y/n."

"Love you too, Chris." you shake your head at him before you hang up.

A few hours later, you have taken care of anything that might need your attention in the next few weeks since you were unsure of exactly when you would be back. You had packed and showered, and were set to leave for the airport. Making one final check that you had everything you needed, you call Christian, who answers sleepily, "I'm headed to the airport," you smile, even though he can't see you. "Ok, I'll see you in the morning," he says through a yawn, "safe travels."

"Thank you for this" you whisper but you can hear him snoring through the phone so you quietly end the call, after whispering another "love you."

You phone dings when you turn it off of airplane mode and you look down to see a message from Christian.

Christian: ciao bella 🤌🏻 there will be a car waiting for you to take you to my apartment. I'll be in training when you land, but should be home when you get there. Can't wait to see you 🫶🏻 Love you.

Y/N: oh god, am I going to be subjected to your attempts at learning Italian?

Y/N: thank you for the flight and arranging the car. I'll meet you at home. I can't wait to see you either. Love you, Chris 🫶🏻

Christian: do not insult my Italian, y/n. On my way home now, see you there 😍

When you arrive, he is waiting outside for you, pulling you into a warm embrace. It feels like he might crush you, but being in his arms heals your soul just a tiny bit.

"You've bulked up," you chuckle, your head resting against his chest. "You're skin and bones" he whispers leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

"Come on" he says retrieving your bags from the car and thanking the driver, waving off your attempts to help carry your things.

He leads you inside his new apartment, sitting your bags just inside the door before intertwining his fingers with yours, "let me show you around," he smiles at you adoringly.

He leads you from room to room, letting you know his plans for each of the ones that aren't quiet fully furnished yet. He grabs your bags as you follow him up the stairs opening the door to what you presume is his bedroom.

"Christian, this is gorgeous," you say taking in the room, the view out of his window to die for.

"It is," he smiles, never taking his eyes off of you.

You and Christian always share a bed when you are together so you aren't sure why it makes you slightly nervous to think about staying with him now, but it does. Your stomach flips as he moves your bag into the walk in closet, sitting your toiletry bag on the bathroom counter.

"Are you tired?" he whispers tucking a loose strand of hair around your ear and settling his hand on you jaw, smiling a the way you lean into him and shake your head, your eyes already a little brighter.

"Hungry?" he grins when you nod.

"You feel up to going somewhere, or do you want me to cook here, or we can order in?"

"We can go out, but can I have a few minutes to freshen up? You know I always feel gross after a long flight."

"Of course," he smiles, leading you into the bathroom, grabbing a towel for you and turning on the shower.

"Thank you," you whisper, wrapping your arms around his waist, "for everything," a couple of tears slip from your eyes which you try to hide from him but he definitely notices.

"Always, y/n" he breathes out, kissing you on the forehead.

After your shower, you wrap yourself in a towel, walking into Christian's room so that you can grab some clothes out of your suitcase. Christian is sitting on the bed when you walk out of the bathroom and his heart sinks when he realizes just how thin you've gotten. He knows it's just from the stress, and that you tend to lose weight when you are dealing with heavy emotions, and that you always return to your normal with a little TLC, usually from him.

He doesn't say anything, he knows he doesn't have to, you can read perfectly well the look of concern on his face.

"I'll be fine, Christian," you whisper as he nods.

"I know you will be now," he offers you a weak smile, but the look of concern is still evident.

You quickly get dressed, noticing that Christian has already unpacked your things and placed them on the empty shelves in his closet, your heart fluttering at the kind gesture.

"Come here" he gestures, patting the empty space on the bed beside him.

You waste no time in climbing over him and tucking yourself into his side, your head resting on his chest as he scratches your back.

"You know I'm here for anything you need, right? Forever." he speaks quietly.

You nod, allowing the familiar sound of his heart and his scent to wash over you. You never feel more cared for than you do when you are wrapped in Christian's arms, his warm embrace always soothing you, no matter what is going on in your life.

"You sure you don't want a nap," he asks quietly, a small yawn escaping his lips.

"We can nap if you are tired, Chris," you whisper.

"That's not what I asked," he chuckles.

Your stomach rumbles loudly and he kisses you on the top of the head, "food first, then naps."

He takes you to a small restaurant close to his apartment, filling you with as much pasta as you can hold before you make the short walk back to his place.

Once you arrive back at Christian's, he closes the room darkening shades in his living room and the two of you settle down on the couch to watch a movie.

Before long, you fall asleep wrapped up in Christian's arms and he does the same. You aren't sure how long you've slept when you stir slightly, waking Christian up.

"You ok?" he whispers into the dark, a sigh escaping his lips when you nod and nuzzle your face into his chest. You let out a giggle when his stomach rumbles, "you can't be hungry again, Chris."

"I'm starving, actually" he chuckles when you move slightly allowing him to stand up and pull you to your feet. He makes the two of you a sandwich, both of you eating before heading up to get changed for bed.

You wander out of the en-suite bathroom in Christian's room after finishing your skincare to find Christian sitting in the bed, already under the covers.

You give him a hesitant look, chewing on your bottom lip, "you sure you want me to stay in here, I could stay in the guest room or..." you trail off as he stands up and makes his way over to you wrapping you in a hug.

"Why wouldn't you stay in here, we've been sharing a bed since we were kids, y/n," he says quietly his hand stroking your back.

"I don't know," you whisper, "I just wasn't sure you wanted me in here."

"Of course I do," he says taking your hand and guiding you towards the bed, "but only if you want to be in here. I can definitely get you set up in the guest room if you would feel more comfortable."

"No, this is fine," you offer him a smile, your moment of anxiety passing.

"You know, I think my parents always thought we were up to something when we kept sharing a bed when we got older," he chuckles, "led to me getting the talk from my dad on more than one occasion."

"No, really?" you groan, your cheeks painted with embarrassment as you try to hide your face with your hands.

"Mmmhmmm" he laughs pulling your hands from your face, "I think they were worried that we might figure out that one of us is a boy and the other is a girl when we were younger, but as we got older, I think there were secretly rooting for it."

"I figured they would eventually put a stop to it, but I guess they trusted you far more than the trusted me," he grins.

"Guess we've disappointed them then," you chuckle tucking yourself into his side as he kisses the top of your head.

"Sleep well, y/n, wake me if you need anything," he whispers as he turns off the lights leaving the two of you wrapped up in nothing but the darkness and each other's arms.

The next several days in Milan Christian works to improve your mood as much as he can, enjoying when he catches flickers of you returning to your normal self.

You wake up early with him, enjoying quiet mornings before he has to leave for training. He even asks if he can bring you along for a few sessions giving you a chance to catch up with his old Chelsea teammates. You spend afternoons wandering the city and learning Italian with him. Evenings, which he knows you typically dread, are spent, snuggled up together watching movies or binge watching some of your favorite series.

Being constantly surrounded by Christian's presence is working wonders for you, you can feel yourself healing from everything you've been through the past few months. During a face time with Christian's mom she mentions that she can tell both of you are in a better place mentally and physically and that she's glad you are getting to spend some time together.

You cannot deny how much you enjoy being with him, here in a safe bubble, seemingly protected from the outside world. And Christian, he's enjoying your company more and more each day. Things are seamless and comfortable between the two of you, conversations are easy, and the silences are never awkward.

He has been thrilled to have you with him as he embarks on a new season with Milan. You've been able to travel to away games with him and we're blown away on your first trip to the San Siro.

One particularly warm evening after a match, you walk out of the bathroom in a pair of pajamas that show far more skin than any others you've worn around him. You pretend not to notice the way his breath hitches in his throat when he sees you and the way his eyes follow you as you slip into bed next to him.

"You ok?" you whisper, resting your head on his chest noticing the way his heart is hammering away.

"Couldn't be better," he sighs, trailing his hands over the exposed skin on your back and shoulders noticing when your skin erupts in goosebumps, a reaction he's not used to from you.

"I've got the next couple of days off, I thought we might take a little trip to Lake Como tomorrow, have some lunch, see the area," he says quietly, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"That sounds nice," you whisper, turning to place a kiss to his chest.

"And I have a surprise for you tomorrow night," he smiles as you turn to look him in the eyes, resting your chin on his chest.

"You know I hate surprises," you grin, a glint of playfulness in your eyes.

"I know, but this is a good one, and you're not getting it out of me," he grins back at you, tickling your sides and making you squeal.

"Now, let's get some sleep, we have an early morning tomorrow," he says, reaching to turn off the light and gesturing for you to turn on your side so that he can be the big spoon.

"Good night y/n," he whispers, "love you," as he places a feather light kiss on your shoulder, so light you almost don't notice it.

"Good night, Chris, love you too." You whisper back to him, intertwining your fingers with his.

The next morning, you both wake up early and have a quick breakfast before leaving for the day's adventure. Lake Como is more beautiful than you could imagine and you share a lunch that borderlines on romantic at a small cafe that overlooks the lake.

"I can't believe we are here," you nudge him with your shoulder as you walk down a small path towards the waters edge.

"I'm sure you could sweep some lucky girl off of her feet here," you chuckle at him noticing the way his cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

"Probably, but that's not what today is about is it," he rolls his eyes at you, "today is about me and you spending time together, not me scoping out potential date spots."

"I know, but what better place to fall in love than Italy, Christian," you say, twirling yourself around in front of him, missing the absolutely smitten look on his face.

"Maybe," he shrugs his shoulders, his eyes never leaving you.

"Are you going to tell me what this surprise is?" you ask him, looping your arm through his and resting your head on his shoulder. Noticing the way his skin reacts to your fingers tracing over his skin.

You like Kelsea Ballerini right?" he asks, as he rests his head on the top of yours as you both of you stare out over the water at the colorful houses dotting the horizon.

"I do, her new album is practically an anthem for my life right now, why?" you breathe out, shuddering as his arm wraps around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

"She's playing at the stadium tonight, and I might have gotten tickets for us," he says lowly, tilting his head up so that he can look you in the eyes and see your reaction.

"Playing at the stadium, as in your stadium? In Milan?" you nearly squeal, turning to fully face him as he nods.

"Thank you," your voice comes out low, barely above a whisper as tears well in your eyes, "for this, and for everything, you've always been the one person I could count on no matter what, and I honestly don't know what I would do without you."

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek, lingering a bit longer than normal as you notice him swallow dryly.

Leaning back slightly, you take in his features, suddenly mesmerized by his beauty. You've always known Christian was attractive, that much was obvious to you, but Italy has done him a world of good. His summer tan has lingered a bit longer, freckles dancing over his skin, and his eyes seem a bit brighter and more full of hope than you've seen them in a while. You catch your gaze lingering over his lips, noticing how soft and plump they are and wondering what they might feel like pressed against your own.

Christian has been your best friend for as long as you can remember, there isn't a single core memory of yours that doesn't involve him, being here with him the past couple of weeks, his patience, support and attentiveness have healed parts of you you didn't know needed healing.

Part of you never thought it was possible to develop feelings for him beyond friendship, and yet, when he's looking at you the way he is at this very moment, it makes you wonder if there couldn't be something more there.

"You're staring," he whispers, enjoying the flood of color that rushes to your cheeks.

"Am I not allowed to stare at my best friend? You're kind of beautiful you know?" you say, your eyes never leaving his.

"You're the beautiful one," he whispers, leaning down and glancing at your lips, almost as if he's thinking of kissing them before kissing the tip of your nose.

You turn, facing the horizon again as his arms squeeze your waist. "I love it here," you breathe out, feeling him nod as he rests his chin on your shoulder, but you aren't quite sure if by "here" you mean your actual location, or if you mean in Christian's arms.

"We should go," he gives you a gentle squeeze and slides his hand into yours.

The car ride home is quiet, he can tell you're lost in your own thoughts and he'd give anything to know what you are thinking about as you stare out of the window. Truthfully, he's a bit lost in his on thoughts as well, trying to come to terms with everything he's been feeling over the last few days.

Back at his apartment, you start getting ready for the concert, Christian ordering dinner for the two of you to eat as you get ready. You pick out a flowy dress, something that accentuates your best features, wanting to look pretty for yourself, and you catch yourself thinking that you also want to look pretty for him. You want him to be proud to have you with him, not that he's ever made you feel otherwise.

Once you are finally ready to go, you walk out of his bathroom about the same time as he walks out of his closet, also dressed and ready to go. You both silently stare at each other, soaking one another in before his lips curl slightly at the edges as he makes his way over to you.

"You look beautiful as always," he smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek, dangerously close to the corner of your mouth.

"So do you," you blush slightly at his compliment as he takes your hand and leads you to the car waiting to pick you up.

The concert is amazing, Christian never leaves your side, and most of the night he has one or both arms wrapped around your waist.

As the first notes of "Penthouse" ring out around the stadium he moves so that he is standing behind you, both arms around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder as he gently sways with you to the music.

Tears well in your eyes at the words that seem so very personal to you, a few spill over as Christian grips onto your hips turns you around. He brings his hands up to cup your face as he brushes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs as the music fades out.

You're staring at each other, both of you knowing exactly what is coming next, as she belts out the healed version of "I kissed someone new last night, and now I don't care where your sleeping baby," Christian presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is soft and slow, and without a moment's hesitation you grip your fingertips into his t-shirt as you melt into the kiss; his lips slotting perfectly against yours, just as you had imagined they would. Suddenly, it feels like all of the pieces have fallen into place.

He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, "I love you, y/n" he says quietly, only loud enough for you to hear. A couple of tears fall from your eyes, as you nod and say "I love you too, Christian."

"No, baby, I need you to understand what I'm saying. I'm in love with you, I am desperately in love with you," he says as he bumps his nose against yours.

"I know, and I'm in love with you too," you grin, a squeal escaping your lips as he picks you up and spins you around.

"Stay in Italy with me, I can't bare for you to leave me," he says as he pulls you closer to him, burying his face into your neck, "we can both start over here, and we can start building a life together," he says hesitantly, searching your features for an answer he is hoping will be yes.

You nod and he crashes his lips back to yours in a much heavier yet still reserved kiss considering you are in public.

"So you're staying," he mumbles against your lips.

"I'm staying" you grin, "until you're sick of me."

"That's never going to happen sweetheart," he smiles sweetly, "never."

Tag list:

@chelseagirl98 @neverinadream @masonspulisic @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona @tall-tanned-tattoo @lizzypotter14

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

SET ME FREE x MIN YOONGI

[MAFIA AU]

PART ONE

Red Chopsticks

Side Characters: Kim Namjoon/police officer detective, Jeon Jungkook/police officer detective, Jung Hoseok/mafia member and Yoongis right hand.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, death, robbery, killing, guns, torturing, fire, porn (a lot of it), drugs, cuss words.

Song: Gods and Monsters by Lana del Rey.

Next ->

………………………………………………………………………………….

I knew that working as an intern at the police station wasn’t going to be easy. As a young woman i knew that very well. But life wasn’t ever exactly easy for me, when i wasn’t fighting to survive i was planing how to survive tomorrow.

At least i was never bored.

“Another fight against the mafia Min left three police officers in the hospital in critical condition and five dead, the police said that they are taking care of the case right now and so far they can’t disclose any information about the investigation but, everything indicates that the mafia leader Agust d was behind it. We’ll be back after the break…”.

I took a sip of my coffee as i watched the news on the tv in wall of the coffee shop. This Agust d was one of the most wanted criminals in the world, they say he has deals with the Italian and the Japanese mafia. No one knew how he looked like, the only way to know he was behind a crime was looking at the crime scene. He had a way of doing in the most cleanest way. Bodies dropped dead in a blink of an eye and no one would know.

I always wanted to be a police detective just like my father, completely influenced by him but when he passed away i made the promise to take his place and do just as much good to the world as he did. To continue his legacy. Since I was the oldest I had to take care of the house and my younger brother. Who was still in high school.

After completing my training i was assigned to work as an intern at the police station. I’ve been working for almost four months now, it hasn’t been easy since.

Many male seniors looked down on me and tooked me for weak. But that didn’t stop me. It never did in the academy and It won’t here.

I’m gonna do my job and I’ll be the best at it.

Days are work were usually the same, sitting on my desk making documents and delivering documents with criminal information on crime scenes, criminals and people who passed.

I had to make sure every information was in order and ready to be documented and archived in the system.

At lunch break I would seat in the table with the few detectives that saw me as one of them, Namjoon was working on the Agust d case together with Jungkook and his other man, he would always take care of me when he could. As fathers used to know each other and for that reason he’s always been like a big brother for me in the station.

- how’s been work so far y/n? - he asked, a smile showing his dimples making him look even more attractive.

- same old same old - i said, sitting in front of him on the table. - how is the investigation of the Min mafia?

- don’t even tell me about it. The damn Agust d is like a ghost. - he held his chopsticks tighter, a deep look in his eyes showing me how much this case has been burning him, no one wanted to catch that man more than him - But just you wait…. I’m gonna catch him and make him pay for his crimes.

- I’m sure you will - i send him an assuring smile - no one can do that but you.

He replied my smile send a small one back to me, the air around seemed to have lightened up since.

- make sure you document our relatories right y/n - Jungkook the youngest detective said to me in a teasing way. Turning the attention to me.

- you do your job and i do mine - i said - I’ll be better then you once i become a detective.

- she’s coming for you man! - Namjoon teased, getting playful too.

- I’m not scared of girls - Jungkook stated, looking my way.

- well then I’ll make you scared - I said daring. We all just laughed after that.

Lunch time was always pleasant with them, as much as they can’t seem to stop teasing me for being the youngest, it was nice being with them.

After lunch i went back to work finding a new pile of documents with a small yellow note saying to transfer them all to the system. One of the other female workers who was a senior Looked at my way saying the boss requested me to do the documents and send it to him.

I sighed knowing it would take more then hours to complete the work, specially with how slow the system has been lately.

…

Finishing the last paper o looked outside the window at the office. It was night already, half past eleven.

I yawn getting up from the chair, time to clock out. As I walk down the stairs to the front doors of the station, Namjoon comes from the corridor of the left. I smiled at him and he does a little jog to come to me, accompany me as we both exit the building.

I take a deep breath once outside, finally time to go home.

- you need a ride home? - Namjoon offers.

- oh no, thank you though - i declined - I have my own ride home.

- don’t tell me you’re still driving that thing? - he asked incredulously of my ride home.

- hey! Don’t talk like that about my baby - i said. Hitting his arm.

- i swear that motorcycle is a monster… - he said playful.

- no it’s not… - I’m interrupted by my cell phone ringing, my brothers name shining on it. - sorry i gotta go, bye Joonie!

I quickly said by to him as i run to the parking lot, once my motorcycle was in my sight I took the call.

- hey bro what do you-

I couldn’t finished. My voice got stuck in my throat as i heard him sobbing, silent cries.

- they are coming to get me… I’m so sorry big sis…- he cried, I could hear laughs and other voices in the back.

My mind was doing loops. Different scenarios about what he might have gotten himself into that could have gotten him in that situation, i felt the rush in my body and completely lost control of myself. The only family I had was in danger and i just couldn’t breath at the thought of it. How could I not do anything?

Knowing i was just an intern at the police station but i would never turn my back to someone in need. Never.

I’m so stupid.

I moved out of instinct. Getting in the motorcycle. Turning on the GPS of his cellphone so i could track his location, finding out my brother l location was my focus now. Turning the key the loud roar of the motor was flowed through my ears. I checked the GPS once more finding out he was at the wets part of downtown.

My eyes looking incredulously at his location, just what in the world was he doing at one of the most dangerous parts of downtown?

Once I find him I’m going to smash some sense in his head, with my fry pan. Hard.

Driving this late wasn’t so bad, everyone was sleeping and those who weren’t were coming back from work or just going to parties, getting dunk or eating out. It was easier to get there faster, as i drove towards my brothers destination the streets began to slowly turn darker, and i don’t mean light sense.

I was struck by how things went down there. I never came a single kilometer close to this part of the city. Now I know why.

People fighting in the middle of the streets, some drunk men being dragged out of a pub, woman bearly clothed walking around smoking.

I stooped my motorbike to look at the GPS once again, he was close now one street ahead in the next alley. I drove there slower till I was close enough to go there on foot and made my way to the alley.

I couldn’t find words to describe this place, it smelled so bad my head started to hurt. Cigarettes and cheap alcohol, piss in the corners and some people laying on the floor. I didn’t know if they were alive but, i didn’t know if going there to check would be a good thing to do.

I had my own share of trouble to solve now. Once in the alley i felt paralyzed, honestly I didn’t know what to expect from this. I didn’t know what to do. I just knew my brother was i danger and i had to get to him quickly.

Once there i stood in the alley, my heart was weighing on my chest, as i saw three men cornering my brother. Two of them wearing big jackets and while one wore a baseball hat the other a bucket hat he was the one who held my brother against the wall while the other one threw a punch against him. Those disgusting pieces of trash.

- ya!

Anger boiled inside me. Now finally getting their attention. The one who threw the punch turning towards me. He was bald and had a dragon tattoo on his face that follow the side of his head to his left eye.

- there's nothing to see here princess - he said - get out or... we might not let you go.

- no, you leave - i stood my ground - i already called the coops, leave my brother.

They all just laugh, i didn't move an inch through if i wanted to win this I would have to fight. I knew I would.

- you all heard that? She called the cops - he said in a mocking way to the other guys and they all laughed - you must not be from here little girl.... the coops don't come here any more.

- yeah... - the other one who held my brother said, he took his cap off siding with the tattoo guy - Agust D made sure of that.

They looked at each other and chuckled.

- we gotta thank him for that... - the back one said walking towards me - thanks to him we can do whatever we want to little girls like you....

I felt like throwing up.

It wasn’t long before two arms held me from behind, a breath of cigarettes hitting my face. A forth men? I tried to break free from it but the man’s hold was strong.

Bald guy walking towards us a vile smile on his lips as he did so, my mind was completely blank and all i could hear was my heart beating faster in my chest and their laughs as if it was coming from far away.

My eyes desperately searching for my brother finding him laying on the floor, fear boiling on my body. I could only watch.

How useless i was.

- we are gonna have so much fun… - he said grabbing my face and smiling sickly. I was so disgusted and angry at the same time.

Still i spit on his face. For a second it seemed like he didn’t believe it, then he angrily cleaned his face with his hand.

- you bitch! - he was one second from slapping me in the face.

If I’m in hell, might as well shower in flames. I closed my eyes waiting for the blow, but it never came.

- what’s is all this garbage?….

A different voice said this time, before anything could happened, from behind the man in the other end of the alley a man stood there.

I couldn’t make his face as he was too far, he proceeded to light a cigarette and take a blow. Smoke flying above his face as he lets it all out. He was wearing simple clothes, ripped jeans a white shirt and flower shirt over it. Long black hair slick back. He walked slowly towards the commotion, as if this was nothing but exactly what he stated: garbage.

- we don’t need more people here friend… - the man in front of me said, walking towards the new stranger - just keep minding your own business.

- well you see… friend - he said closer now, eyes falling over mine and i noticed the scar on his face. It made him look mad. - i don’t like men hurting woman…

- I don’t give a shit about what you don’t like get the fu- before the man can say even one more word, scar men throws a punch on him, cigarette still between his lips.

He falls on the ground nose bleeding and groaning in pain, scar men takes a second blow lof the cigarette letting the smoke fall out of his lips slowly in the air watching the men on the ground, a smirk on his face.

- I also don’t like poor dirty vocabulary… - he said, throwing the rest of the cigarette on the man.

The two other guys went stray to the scar men, one of them throwing a punch on him but he quickly dogged grabbing the guys arm bringing towards him he punched his ribs then kicked him on the same spot, while this were happening the other one who just watched grabbed a piece of wood and went straight to the scar face men.

It happened so fast, the guy didn’t stood a chance as scar face held the piece of wood and his other hand before he could do anything, a sick laugh coming from scar face lips. He looked as if he was having the most fun but, more then anything like this was nothing to him.

I knew he went hard when i heard the sound of cracking, but it wasn’t from the wood. The painful groan that left the guy mouth was enough to tell me, scar men broke his arm then threw the guy on the floor two with another kick. He stood there pushed his hair back and looked at me, a smirk still on his face.

The forth men that was holding me finally let me go, turning back i only saw him walking fast as if he had nothing to do with this signaling to the other men to get out of there, one after the other they got up from the floor leaving quickly. I don’t know who that men with the scar is but although he helped me and my brother, he doesn’t seem like one to mess with.

As the alley was clear i ran to my brother, checking to see if he was okay. He hugged me as soon as i kneeled beside him.

- why did you come? - he cried on my shoulder - they could’ve hurt you…

- and they hurt you - I told him - how could i not come? Should I have just left your!? You punk.

I helped him up holding him by the waist, I honestly thought the scar men wouldn’t be here anymore. I was surprise to see he was still there looking at me and my brother. Both hands on the pockets of his jeans.

Noticing my look of surprise at him he only side smiled, I couldn’t read his expression.

- it’s still dangerous to be alone at this time… - he said walking to the end of the alley where he came from and towards the street - let’s eat something till things cool down in downtown.

I didn’t question. I didn’t know how things worked at downtown and if he’s from here he knows more then I do. Seeing how my brother was still in pain I thought that would be a good idea, at least until he gets better to go and as the scar men said till thing cold down.

So i follow the him. We walked without saying anything else, the streets of downtown seemed to really be quieting down now . He stopped in front what looked like a noddle restaurant, it looked old with rustic furniture and decor.

He walked around as if he new the place and quickly sat down in one of the tables on the back, i fallowed him sitting in front of him after helping my brother to sit beside me.

And old lady came to our table, she seemed to know scar face as she smiled at him.

- the usual mister Yoongi? - she asked him, he nodded.

- the same for them - he then replied, she looked at me once then my brother the expression on her face showing clearly. Pity.

She quickly went back to prepare the food, i looked at the men in front of me. The scar on his face gave him a fearful look, he had sharp eyes too and moved with so much confidence and control of himself. Nothing around his surrounding seemed to fazed him, he looked indifferent to everything.

He’s from downtown. The part of the city were crime was all over it, the mafia Min had control over it more then the military soldiers. No one could take this area down. They had so much power over it no one from the outside could even imagine what was truly happening here, everyone feared getting even the stlighly close to here.

I tried not to think about it so much as time passed, the food was put in front of us by the old lady. The scar face who’s name the old lady said before was Yoongi took his chopsticks blowing the noddles before eating.

His knuckles had some blood on them, but he just eat as if it wasn’t nothing to him. Are all the people in downtown like this? Born bad? Born with blood in their hands.

Now here i’m right in the middle of it. With this men in front of me who looked like he was some kind of mafia criminal.

- are you in the mafia? - I only realized I said my thoughts out loud when he looked at me.

He stoped mid eating, mouth slightly opened as he hold his chopstick. His eyes locked on mine and he stared at me, it felt cold the more i held eye contact with him. I couldn't decipher what was going on his mind, it made me even more intrigued and for a second it felt like time had stoped, everyone and every thing around us simply didn't exist.

How did I get here? Who was this men?

I couldn't breath. My eyes were glued on his, how could someone like him have this kind of effect on people? I felt a shiver run down my spine as he licked his lips smirking if that was somebody else I’m sure it wouldn’t look as attractive as he made it look and before he took a bite of his food he simply said without breaking eye contact with me.

- no.

Nothing else was said after that.

We all just eat our food. The silence was filled with only dish sounds and food being cooked, some old people talking about sports and how some areas were too dangerous.

I kept checking on my brother to see if was fine, he only eat his food quietly blood dried already on his bottom lip, a bruise on his right eye turning red. I hated the fact i couldn’t protect him. Even after becoming a police officer I couldn’t do anything to protect my only family.

Mat the sudden movement in front of me my eyes turning to Yoongi as he got up from his seat, he grabbed the pair of red chopsticks before looking at me one last time.

- i have something to deal with now - he said - you know that way out, don’t worry about the food… is on me.

Was all he said before turning his back and walking towards the back of the restaurant with the red chopsticks.

What a night.

Taglist: @missmin @whipwhoops @glosstwn @i-have-no-life-charlie @kooslilhoe @catlove83 @taegicity @ginger-coffee-addict @rosquilleta @tarahardcore @liveyun @manuosorio @thvlover7 @4ukiyo4 @sukonsukuna @passionandsuga @missroro @btspurplesky

Notes: First part is out YES. Sorry for any grammatical mistakes I didn’t edit yet! 🥺💖🤭

[thedoctorsthings]

bts jealousy scenarios

someone asked for this but I'm an idiot who doesn't know how asks work so I lost it.

anyways the ask was just 'jealousy' and that lack of instruction made my autistic ass scared. Here it finally is.

warnings: one (1) sad ending, angst, drunk person, history student writer finding it necessary to put one historical au in there. (why do i try to be funny in these intro/warning thingies? nobody reads this. I am a jester putting on a clown's show for the deaf and blind)

WC: Don't know, don't care

KIM SEOKJIN

She's dancing. Not only is she dancing, she's dancing with her husband...and it's not him. He watches her swaying along the dance floor with the better man. Seokjin knew he was the better man. If he wasn't you wouldn't have married him. Your new husband Jinyoung lifts you up and twirls you around and you laugh, a sound clear as water. You smiled brighter when you were with Jinyoung, laughed harder, moved with more energy. Seokjin knew he had lost. Still he couldn't bring himself to be angry. You were happy. That was all that mattered. When he lost you years ago he'd signed up for a life on the sidelines and now he had to bear the consequences.

The song ended and you let your husband go. Seokjin walked over to you right after gathering all his courage and swallowing the frog in his throat. "dance with me!" you said before he could. He couldn't find any words so just took your hand and walked you back to the dancefloor. once you've found your rhythm and are softly rocking back and forth on the shiny floor of the gorgeous venue, he finally finds his voice. "Are you happy?", He asks. "of course", you beam. "Just wanted to make sure", he says almost whispering. your smile drops: "are you okay?" you ask concerned. "When you're with me always". "You need to let me go Jin". He sighs, tears welling up in his eyes: "I'm sorry". It's the last thing he says before walking away out of the venue into the night. He'll take enough with this. As long as you're in his life he would never truly be unhappy. He'd be the dry dust of the savannah spending his time waiting to be blessed by your rain. He'd be the moon yearning for the moments he could take some of your sunlight every once in a while. If this was all the both of you could be then that's how it would be.

MIN YOONGI

You were dancing with Mr. Fleatwood again. Yoongi knew he'd been courting you for more than 10 months now. It was killing him. Why couldn't he just work up the courage to ask you. To go to your house as a caller instead of just waiting for you to look in his direction. His family was much wealthier than yours so there was no need for him to be embarrassed, and yet he was. Something about your divine beauty, your quick wit and sharp intelligence made him a nervous wreck.

"why don't you ask her to dance? What's the worst thing that could happen?" Namjoon, his best friend had come to stand next to him, his wife on his arm. "She could look at me". "oh you melodramatic piece of work!" Namjoon's wife exclaimed. Yoongi sighed melodramatically: "I'm too late, she's been courted by Mr. Fleatwood for over 10 months. A proposal can't be far away". "exactly!" Namjoon said with a smile Yoongi found way to optimistic looking. "they've been courting for over a year and no proposal yet. They're taking too long. If you ask me, she's trying to shake him off". "I've learned not to ask you things", yoongi chuckled, but while his friend walked of he considered what he had said. Maybe he did have a chance. "worst case scenario she dumps her glass over your head. It's a hot summer night, it'll be refreshing. Just go for it before I do it for you", Namjoon's equally optimistic wife whispered near his ear. All right then, here goes nothing. Yoongi walks over to you. "Miss, might I have this dance?" "If you take me away from that bore of a Mr. Fleatwood you can have anything", you smiled.

KIM NAMJOON

Namjoon's watching you on set. He came here to surprise you at work. This way he could drive you home to the dinner he made for you. When you told him you would be acting in a romantic comedy he thought he would be able to handle it. Turns out he couldn't. Your co-star just threw you on the bed and was crawling over you. When he kissed you Namjoon decided it was time to take a bathroom break.

When he comes over the scene is done and you're getting ready to leave. "Hey honey!", you beam at him. "Yeah, hey honey", he huffs. "What's up with you?" you ask frowning. "Nothing, I'd just like to get home", he answer dramatically looking away from you. You chuckle and figure you have an idea about what's going on here. "okay, okay, I'm almost ready". When you're out of costume you leave with Namjoon to the parking lot. He doesn't say anything the whole way. When he starts driving and you look over to him to see him angrily sticking his tongue in his cheek you can't take it anymore. You try to hold in your laugh while you ask him: "Are you upset about the scene?" "Don't laugh at me", he says curtly. "Oh come on Namjoon don't be ridiculous, it was only a scene for a movie". Namjoon dramatically looks out the window. "Would it help you if I told you that my co-star is an absolute dick that I can't stand?" "Would that be true or just something to shush my hurt feelings?", Namjoon says with a small smile on his face. "It would very much be true". "Do you need me to beat him up for you?" You laugh: "I shouldn't have to ask you things like that, you should just do it". "I prepared a date for us", Namjoon says after laughing: "I'm sorry I overreacted". "It's okay, I get it".

JUNG HOSEOK

You're sitting in front of him at the restaurant you agreed on. Next to you is your boyfriend and next to him is his girlfriend. God how he hates this. Why did he agree to go on this double date? Why was he dating Jinae? He didn't love her. Why were you dating this douchebag? He didn't love you and Hoseok didn't even want to think about the possibility that you truly loved him. Lastly, why oh why was he not the one next to you? You should be dating him. Hoseok was sure he could give you everything you wanted, make you so much happier than he could. He saw the way your boyfriend looked at other women. How he made little comments that made your smile drop. Hoseok had spent this entire date moping and barely talking. "So how long have you been dating again?", your boyfriend asks. "eeuhm...", Hoseok hesitates just long enough to make it awkward before Jinae saves him: "almost a month". An awkward silence falls before you ask your boyfriend to go dance with you. Oh God that's right, this godforsaken restaurant has a dancefloor and romantic music playing. Your boyfriend manages to catch himself right in time but Hoseok saw he was about to roll his eyes. He would never do that. If you asked him to to dance with you he would be the happiest man on earth.

You're on the dancefloor slow dancing with your boyfriend and Hoseok stares holes into the back of your head while ignoring his girlfriend next to him. He knows he's being horrible to her. That she doesn't deserve this, but he couldn't stand to be alone while you were with someone. "they're so cute. Do you think we could ever be like that?", Jinae asks with an endeared look in her eyes. "no". "What is up with you? Why did you bring me here, you've been ignoring me all night", Jinae sounds clearly offended. "I don't know, I think we should break up".

PARK JIMIN

You're laying on your couch watching some romantic movie. An empty container of ice cream is laying on the floor in front of you and the tear streaks are still clear on your face. You and your boyfriend just broke up. Apparently He couldn't handle your close friendship with Jimin. It had started with him making sly remarks towards him and ended with him accusing you of cheating. Doors had been slammed and tears shed but it was over now, for good. You'd gone straight home and hadn't contacted anyone. you Just wanted to be alone.

All of a sudden your shaken awake by the ringing of your doorbell. After blinking your sleep away you get up to open the door. On the way there you look at the clock and see it's 2am. The bell rings again right before you open the door. Jimin almost falls onto your floor. "What are you doing here?" You ask softly. Jimin leans against the wall and manages to slur out: "You've ruined my life". He smells of alcohol. "Jimin, what are you talking about?" "I can't stop thinking about you and your stupid boyfriend. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for years and now you have this idiot of a boyfriend. I hate him. he's so pretentious. You should be with me because when you're not it burns and I need you to make it stop. I know you love him. I know I don't have a chance with you. You're so smart and he's also smart and I'm not. You always talk about how amazing he is and I can't fucking take it. Maybe I should get out of your life, it hurts too much". All of this was rambled and a lot of it incomprehensible. after a moment of silence and Jimin trying to stay standing by holding on to the hallway mirror you say: "We broke up". "Come on Jimin, you can sleep on the couch and we'll talk tomorrow". "Okay, I love you", Jimin slurs while following you to the living room.

KIM TAEHYUNG

Your new fiancé has been proudly strutting around all night with you on his arm. You're gorgeous as always. His name was Dokyeom and he was annoyingly perfect. He was everything you deserved and everything Taehyung wasn't. You were the heiress of your mothers company and so you were always meant to marry the son of a rich family. That wasn't him. Taehyung came from an average family. The only reason he was here was because he was your best friend and you invited him to every single one of these events.

Dokyeom puts his arm around your waist, pulls you closer and Taehyung almost recoils. He couldn't take this. He had to get out of here. Since you were teenagers he'd been in love with you. Never once did he say anything. It would ruin your friendship with no point because he's always known you were to marry rich. And the worst part about all of this; you were happy. This would be so much easier if you hated Dokyeom. If you called Taehyung every night to complain about the horrible man your parents had arranged you to marry, but you didn't. You liked your fiancé.

He left. He had to. On his way out he asked one of your mutual friends to tell you he was sorry. He was just about to step out the door onto the street when he heard you call his name. "Taehyung, where are you going so early?" "oh, I'm just tired. Thought I'd head out early". "Without saying goodbye?" He hated this look on your face. Your face had fallen when he said that and now he felt horrible. You frowned and said: "you normally love these things. What's really going on?" He figured there was no point in lying. Maybe Namjoon had been right when he said that the best thing to do would be to be honest with you. So here he went; finally taking his chance after almost 10 years. "I can't do this Y/N. I can't watch you marry that guy. I love you. I love you so much and yet I can't stand to watch you be happy with someone else. I can't keep hurting myself.

"Run away with me", was all you answered.

JEON JUNGKOOK

He was going to kill that guy, and after that you. No, he would never do that; he loved you. He was just mad. Earlier tonight you had fought. You wanted to go out with your friends but when Jungkook saw the dress you were wearing he told you to change. It turned into a fight. You said he had no right to tell you what to wear and he had accused you of not respecting him. In hindsight he'd realised you were right. So now he was here at the club he knew you were at, to apologise. He didn't want to wait until you were back because then he'd be asleep and he knew that you wouldn't talk about it the next morning.

When he arrived he'd spotted you after a mere 2 seconds of looking at the dancefloor. You were dancing closely with some guy. He had his hands all over you but you seemed to drunk to realise. A couple seconds later you seemed to sober up a bit and told the guy to back of. He didn't of course. This was Jungkook's cue to step in. He marched up to the guy and pulled him away from you. "When a lady says back off, you back of alright you piece of filth". He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, "let's go home Y/N". "Okay, but I'm still mad at you". "Yeah about that", he lead you out of the club while saying: "I'm sorry about that, you were right I totally overreacted". He opened the car door for you and then went over to the driver's seat. "You should be able to wear what you want, I'll shut up about it next time". "Good". You said curtly. After a few minutes of silence you softly said "I'm sorry I stormed out without solving the argument". He looked over and smiled, "Forgiven and forgotten".

requests always welcome

[lonesome-witching]

Walk Me Home

Someone wanted a sequel to Seven Minutes and I was more than happy to oblige. This one does contain minor smut. I feel like it could have been worse but it is nsfw. Hope you enjoy.

Do you have any prompts yourself? Or do you want to dive into what I wrote before? You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

“You’re not into Nancy anymore, right?” Robin took a sip of her drink.

“What? No, of course not. Why do you ask?” Steve had to shout over the music. Robin searched for a hint of a lie in his words, something in his voice or his phrasing. But there was nothing. No hint of dishonesty.

“Just because of earlier.”

“Seven minutes? I’m glad you got to spend time with her.”

Robin nodded. She could still feel Nancy’s skin under her fingertips. She could still feel her lips pressed against her own. She would probably crave that feeling for the rest of her life. It reminded her of the saying ‘never meet your hero’s’. And she had done so much worse. She had kissed them and put her hand up her skirt.

“I’m far too drunk to drive home,” Nancy said, popping up out of nowhere. Steve smiled at Robin, nudging her closer.

“I don’t have a license.” It was a stupid answer. But a truthful one. It was probably best she didn’t drive.

“Perfect, we can share a cab together.” Nancy threw her arms around Robin’s neck. Like a clingy girlfriend. Robin loved it. She indulged in the warmth Nancy’s body offered.

“Yeah, it’s just that Steve—”

“Steve doesn’t mind, does he?”

“Not at all, I’m a big boy. I can find my way home.”

Robin made a note to thank Steve in the morning. Maybe she’d cover a shift for him at the video store. “Alright, well, in that case I’m all ready to go.”

“Great! You can take care of me. Won’t you, Robbie?” The nickname was new. Not that she minded.

“Yeah, of course.”

Nancy started dragging her out the house. Robin wasn’t sure what to say or do. All she could do was follow, allow Nancy to pull her into the cool night air. They walked for a bit, away from the house before Nancy stopped in the middle of the street.

“I might have forgotten to call a cab. I’m sorry. Do you mind walking? My place isn’t too far. You can crash there, if you want.”

“I don’t mind. Walking, I mean.” Robin held out her hand for Nancy, just to make sure she didn’t fall. But surprisingly, Nancy was walking in a perfectly straight line. She must have a steady hand if she can keep control of her body this well while also slurring her words. It was very Nancy Wheeler of her. Exactly as Robin had imagined her.

“And what about the sleeping over? Do you mind that?” Nancy asked. Her words still partly slurred.

“No, not at all. You did ask me to take care of you, so I have to, don’t I?”

“Yes, you do.” Nancy poked her cheek.

They walked in silence for a little while. Robin listened to the sound of their footsteps on the pavement. Nancy’s heels sounded nice. That clacked almost rhythmically, forming a song. One Robin never imagined she’d get to hear up close. She tried to memorize it. She tried to memorize all of it. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get to be this close to Nancy again. She had to take what she could get and relive it every single night when she returned to her loneliness.

“This is it,” Nancy said, swerving for the first time to bump into Robin’s shoulder. Her hands searched for the keys in her pockets. She fished out a keychain before dropping it on the ground. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m a bit clumsy when I’m drunk.” Somehow Robin doubted that.

Nancy bend over, giving Robin a slightly too revealing look at her butt, to retrieve the keys. And then she unlocked the door, motioning for Robin to enter first.

“Do you want something to drink?” Nancy asked, closing the door behind her.

“No, no. I’m quite alright. I think I’ve had enough to drink already.”

“Alright, straight off to bed then.”

Robin was led up the stairs. Down the hallway. Well, not far down the hallway. Nancy’s room was the first one they encountered. “Your bedroom is nice.”

“Thank you. You don’t mind sharing a bed, do you?” Nancy walked straight up to the bed. Robin expected her to prepare it for the night, but instead she just fell down, laying on top of her covers.

“No, of course not.”

“Good.”

Robin slowly approached the bed. She wasn’t sure what else to do. The covers were pink, just like the walls. She focused on details like that, hoping to not get in her head too much. She didn’t want to think about all the implications that were surrounding her. The consequences that might haunt her in the morning. That was a problem for future her.

Once she was within reach, Nancy pulled her onto the bed. “Oof,” Robin breathed as she collided with the other girl.

“We’ve got more than seven minutes this time. You can touch me wherever you like,” Nancy whispered. She no longer slurred her words, sounding sober all of a sudden.

Robin swallowed down the lump in her throat. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want.”

“I’m asking, Robin. I’m asking you to touch me.”

“Can I kiss you?” Robin pushed herself up on her elbows, hovering over the other girl. Hovering over the girl of her dreams.

Nancy nodded. Robin closed the distance, connecting their lips. She expected to taste the last traces of alcohol on Nancy’s lips. But she didn’t. Instead, she tasted the sweet taste of some type of soda. But mostly she tasted Nancy. She tasted heaven.

She placed a hand on Nancy’s cheek. Softly stroking the skin there, as she lazily moved her lips. It felt nice. Her body was buzzing, needing more, more, more.

“You’re so gentle,” Nancy giggled.

“I’m sorry, is that not good?” Robin pulled away, looking at Nancy’s expression, her red cheeks, her swollen lips, her smile.

“No, it’s very good. Don’t stop!”

Robin connected their lips again. Kissing rougher this time, moving her lips faster, softly biting Nancy’s bottom lip. A moan opened Nancy’s mouth and Robin used the opportunity to push her tongue in.

Her hand moved from Nancy’s cheek down to her breast. Slightly feeling her up over her shirt. Maybe this was the heavy petting Steve had mentioned before. She should probably stop. Nancy was drunk, she wasn’t in her right mind. Sober Nancy would never want this. Would never want her.

It took some effort for Robin to pull away, sitting down next to Nancy.

“Did I do something wrong?” There was a frown on Nancy’s face, her eyes staring up at Robin, pleading.

“No, I just think it might be best to not get carried away while you’re drunk. I don’t want you to have any regrets in the morning.”

“I’m not drunk, Robin.”

“You are.”

Nancy shook her head, sitting up. “I’m not, I’ve barely had any alcohol at all. Just some sweet drinks and water.”

“But you said—”

“That was a ruse. I wanted to get you in my bed,” Nancy’s fingers drew figure eights on Robin’s hand.

“What?”

“I had ulterior motives. I wanted to finish what we started in the closet.”

“So, you are sober?”

Nancy nodded.

“And you want this?”

“Yes, Robin. I really, really want this.” She bit her bottom lip, right where Robin had.

It was all Robin needed, the confirmation that Nancy wanted this. Her hands reached for Nancy’s waist, pulling her closer. But Nancy took control quickly, pushing Robin down on to the bed. She pushed her hands under Robin’s shirt.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Robin shook her head, pushing Nancy’s hand up higher. “Touch me, Nancy.”

Nancy did, pushing Robin’s shirt up until it was bunched up around her neck. Her entire chest was exposed. Nancy’s hand reached for Robin’s breast, her fingers softly pulling at her nipple. Robin couldn’t contain the moan.

“Just like that,” she whispered.

“Yeah? You like that?” Nancy’s hands got rougher, squeezing and pulling.

“Yes,” Robin moaned. “I like that. Don’t stop.”

Nancy leaned down, capturing a nipple in her mouth, sucking. Robin’s moans got louder. She worried about being too loud, turning Nancy off, waking up the neighbors. But Nancy merely hummed around Robin’s boob. It felt good, it felt so good.

Nancy’s right hand slid down Robin’s chest, until she could push it under Robin’s waistband. Her fingers toying with Robin’s underwear. “Is this alright?”

“Yes, yes. It’s perfect, you’re perfect.”

Nancy’s fingers slid into Robin’s underwear. “Oh, you’re wet.”

“Is that surprising to you?”

Nancy just smiled, pressing her finger against Robin’s clit. Moving her finger in circles. Making Robin feel good. So good.

“Nance, more, please,” she moaned. She tried to memorize every touch. She tried to memorize the way it felt when Nancy pushed her fingers inside. How they pumped in and out of her. Faster, faster, faster. Nancy’s other hand replaced the fingers on Robin’s clit. She could feel herself drifting away.

“Yes! Yes! Fuck!” She was going to come ridiculously fast. She was so close. So close with Nancy’s hands down her pants making her feel good. “I’m gonna—” Robin came with Nancy’s fingers still inside of her.

She was rewarded with a kiss. Lips lazily moving against her own as she came down from her high. “How was that?”

“Incredible, wonderful, fantastic, perfect. Give me two minutes and I’ll repay the favor.”

“Take your time.” Nancy sat up straighter. Her hands reached for the bottom of her shirt, quickly pulling it over her head. Her bra was next. She didn’t stop stripping until she was entirely naked, laying herself down next to Robin. “I’m patient.”

[ishouldbedoinghw]

You Can't Erase Me

One Piece fanfic, part 10: Calico Jack

Previous parts are in my pinned masterlist.

A woman enslaved by the celestial dragons is found by a man with red hair. Angst and comedy ensues.

A/N: Y'all know the drill. This chapter is the one that inspired this entire story. I was driving and listening to this song when a great idea that I really hope doesn't suck exploded into my head. Also I finally got a new computer since I've been working a couple of jobs this summer before moving back to college.

Also I would like to preface this chapter by saying this has a good bit of dancing described in it. The only experience I have with dancing is country western swing dancing and white person line dancing. It might be bad. Dead dove do not eat.

TW: Bad descriptions of dancing and music, thirsting over a vampire, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, Shanks

The first swig from Maria's bottle was, frankly put, fucking terrible. This was the crap Shanks was always chugging?

As I spluttered, trying my best to hand back the bottle before I dropped it, Maria and her friend were giggling behind polite hands.

"Never had liquor before? Traveling with Red-Hair? And I'd bet money on you being almost ten years older than the two of us."

Almost ten years? How young were these girls? How old was I?

"Listen, I had some health problems, alright? And how old do you think-"

Maria's hands shot up in surrender. "Sorry, didn't mean anything by it, we didn't know."

Her friend, still slightly giggling, took the bottle from me and took a swig herself.

"Look, this stuff is cheap, so it isn't about tasting it, you've gotta just let it be nasty and focus on what it's doing to you." She handed it back to me, her long nails curled around the bottle neck.

It tasted just as nasty the second time, but at least I was prepared for it. I swallowed it quickly, doing my best to keep a straight face.

As Maria took the bottle back to hide it away, her friend started to study me, clicking her tongue occasionally. My face burned a bit at being studied again, and it made me wonder if I really looked as good as I felt.

"Maria, you really don't miss, do you?" She laughed, and started to head back down the hall, seemingly satisfied. "Let the newbie know what her big job is tonight, and have her watch during the first couple of songs, so she at least doesn't go in blind."

"Yeah, yeah," Maria called back, shaking her head. "A control freak, that one."

Fiddling with the lace on my corset, I watched Maria finish adjusting herself in the mirror. After she seemed satisfied, she beckoned me to follow her as she went down the hallway after her friend.

"So- what is it that I have to do, exactly?" I ask, nervously gripping my skirt, trying to adjust to walking in it.

"So, every week we have a night where we do the Calico Jack- one of the older, tougher girls is picked to find someone in the crowd to dance with to a song about running off with a pirate." She stopped to adjust a strap on one of her shoes, and I almost run into her. "I personally don't see the appeal in it, and neither does Delilah, but it always brings in a big crowd of rowdy men who pay plenty money to drink and feed their egos if the girl picks 'em."

"That's why we get a grown woman to do it, too- in case a fight breaks out over who gets picked, the dancer doesn't get hurt." She continues. "We try to stay away from the really wild ones- we had a big ginger muscleheaded prick get upset a while back, his blonde boy-toy or whatever had to drag him out."

My mouth had gone quite dry at this point, though whether it was from the liquor or my nerves I wasn't quite sure. I had to dance with a stranger? Hell, I don't think I'd ever danced before. My plans for tonight were to maybe dance with Benn, and then to just listen to something other than the crew's terrible singing. And yet, here I was, painted as a doll ad about to be strung up like a puppet because of some old woman I didn't even know.

"Do I-?"

"Yes, you have to do it, I'd like to keep my room and my nice-paying job, thank you very much." Maria was trying to sound confident and relaxed, but I could see the sweat starting to bead on her neck and face. "Listen, no one would question it if you just picked Red-Hair, and you'd likely avoid a fight that way too, no one would argue that he's handsome and powerful."

I started to argue about calling Shanks anything other than annoying, but I stopped myself- I couldn't deny she had a point. No one would recognize me as the girl he came with, and he was powerful enough to avoid confrontation with someone else. Shit, she might've just given me an easy way out of this mess. I would just get the one dance over with and-

"Of course, before that dance, you've gotta join the rest of the tavern dancers since we're short one."

Of course.

She shoved me, clearly seeing my face. "Listen, it really isn't as bad as it sounds. For whatever reason, the boss has faith in you. She doesn't just drag random strangers out of the crowd- well, at least not all the time." She said with a laugh.

As we neared the end of the hallway, I was expected to be met with some kind of music, or lights like before. Instead, the dance hall was dark and quiet, with only the light hum of hushed conversation. Maria was gripping my shoulder, and I could see her straining to get a glimpse of something off to our right. I tried to follow her gaze, but all I could get was dim outlines of figures, and the flash of something shiny reflecting the dim light of the hallway.

As Maria's grip tightened, chills shot through my body. A whisper from the right made the room a silent vacuum, and I strained to hear the words.

"Hickory, oak, pine and weed-" A small flame flickered in the distance, lighting up the face of the old woman who'd woken me up. Delilah. Her voice was softer, yet somehow stronger when she was singing. Perhaps it was the lack of grouch. A drum was the only instrument playing, only hitting one note to make a beat.

"Bury my heart underneath these trees-" My body froze, waiting for the adverse reaction I'd had when Emily had been preforming.

"And when a southern wind comes to raise my soul-" She drew out the last note in a slight vibrado, and I found myself wondering how the hell I knew that.

"Spread my spirit like a flock of crows." I saw the flash again, and as I focused, I could make out someone holding a guitar, a sleek, slim version of the one Yassopp owned but couldn't play.

"'Cause I loved ya for too long, I loved ya for too long," Her voice was getting stronger, and louder, the den-den mushi in front of her picking up more sound.

"I loved ya for too long-" She held the last note in a vibrado again, holding it out until she was nearly whispering again. Her voice was admittedly beautiful, if not a bit haunting.

"Old heat of a raging fire, Come and light my eyes Summer's kiss through electric wire- But I'll never die-"

The stage lights all came on at once, showing off just how massive it was. A full band stood to the left of Delilah, while a handful of the girls I'd seen earlier were standing to the right, all with their own den-den mushi. On the same beat, as Delilah shifted to a full belt on the end of "die," the girls burst into operatic backup vocals, and the band started playing at top volume. The drum continued at a slightly faster pace, and the guitar strummed at a slow, steady pace to match it, contrasting the passionate voices of Delilah and her choir.

"Sycamore, ash, moss and loam Wrap your roots all around my bones And when they come for me When they call my name Cast my shadow from a bellow's flame-"

Chills ran up my spine, and my heart seemed to seize in my chest. I panicked, thinking I would pass out again, but my breath remained steady, and my mind clear. What the hell was going on?

"Cause I loved ya for too long I loved ya for too long I loved ya for too long So let the storm come-"

My body trembled, my mouth was dry once again, and the back of my neck was coated in a sheen of sweat. My heart was pounding against my ribs, my eyes watered, and I wanted to scream.

"Old heat of a raging fire Come and light my eyes Summer's kiss through electric wire But I'll never die I will never die You can bury my body but I'll never die-"

It was the best thing I could ever remember experiencing. Like a piece of me I'd been searching for ever since I woke up on that damned ship had finally come back.

I loved music. I've always loved music. I could feel it in the depths of my soul, in every bone in my body.

My entire life, I have always loved music.

The way Delilah ripped through the vocals was a storm tearing through the fields of my mind. Every sound I could make out on that stage rocked me to my core.

Watching Delilah's passion was almost as good as listening to it. Her eyes seemed to be gleaming like fire, and she spit out every word as if she had lived through the song over and over again, like she'd truly meant all of it. I'd believe it if they said she was an immortal deity from her stage presence alone.

Her boots stomping caught my attention as she transitioned to the bridge. All instruments but the drum had stopped playing again, and I could hear the thunder of voices in the crowd join her.

"In the dead of night I'm gonna loose these chains Mmm, I'm gonna run and run and run and run and run I'm gonna run and run and run and run Coming for you again Oh, coming for you again-"

The instrumental that followed blew me away once again. I never knew someone could make the instrument Roux purposefully hid from Yassopp sound so damn beautiful. Leading up to the last run of the chorus, Delilah was screaming her vocals, and a new chill ran through my body.

I need to do that one day.

All I wanted, with my entire being, was to be singing these songs with as much passion as she did, in the hopes I could feel something other than fear, anger, or shame.

As Delilah sang the final chorus, she spread her arms, letting her large coat that had been hanging over her shoulders fall to the ground. She was surprisingly muscular for her age, and-

Holy shit, she didn't have any hands.

Her arms ended at the wrists, and were webbed in a messy array of scars. The crowd screamed at the reveal, whether out of fear or something else, I couldn't quite tell.

Maria started to cheer at my side, startling me. She started shaking my arm and bouncing up and down, still yelling her ass off. I didn't pay much attention to it, distracted by Delilah's performance. It wasn't that her lack of hands was a shock in itself; I'd seen where Shanks had lost his plenty. I simply wondered how in the world she'd slapped me so effectively earlier.

"You ready?" Maria yells in my ear, her voice fuzzy with all the noise.

"Ready for wh-" And she shoved me in the direction of the stage as the room grew dark again. I flailed about and stumbled a bit, before one of the male dancers, a dark-haired, freckled young man, caught my arm.

"Newbie, right? You know the Mull River Shuffle, yeah?" He hooks his arm in mine, pulling me to the opposite side of the now empty dance floor.

"The fucking what-"

"Yeah, Maria said you might not, don't worry, you just gotta follow my lead. You dance some, yeah?"

"No-"

The guitar starts a faster rhythm than before, and the lights flash on again, making my vision spotty. My partner squeezes my arm, catching my attention before he starts moving around the floor with the other dancers in a wide circle. The more we moved, the slower and dizzier I felt we were moving. The steps I took to mirror his were clumsy, and my neck burned in shame at how stupid I likely looked.

"You know, Maria failed to mention she got you drunk as hell." What?

"I'm not-"

"Not even the clutziest of kids are so unsure of where their own damn foot is. You're thinking way too hard, you've gotta trust yourself. The liquor is supposed to take away fear, not grace."

I'm not sure why I giggled, and as we paused to turn and move the opposite direction, my body still felt it was moving around.

"I'm about to spin you towards the middle, don't puke." He was irritated now, and I felt terrible. He hadn't asked for a shitty partner tonight, yet here I was. I just let him sling my body around, and I grew a bit lightheaded at the speed.

"That wasn't half bad, think you can go faster?" The relief that flooded me was almost overwhelming, and I couldn't help but giggle again. I'm not sure why the little phrase had made me so happy.

Trust yourself.

The words rang in my ear as the tempo of the song picked up again, and the group of dancers split down the middle, my partner shoving me gently to line up opposite him.

As everyone stepped toward the middle again to meet their partners, I did the same; although I was half a stride behind them. My partner made up for the time, quickly spinning us around and pushing me in the direction he'd come from.

The more I relaxed, and the more I let myself move and spin and step to the music, the more fun I let myself have. This wasn't exactly what I had in mind when Shanks had made me leave the ship, but I had to admit to myself that I was actually having a great time.

"Told you, just let go." He was smiling at me now, and I couldn't help but excitedly smile back.

"You know, I've never danced as far back as I can remember." I wasn't sure why it felt so good just to talk for the hell of it.

"Yeah, I could kind of tell that when we started."

I giggled again, then had to catch my breath as he spun me around again.

"Yeah, I don't think I've ever had so much fun."

It was his turn to laugh then, before we split into two lines again. He didn't have to push or pull me this time, and I was able to keep up with the pace of the rest of the line.

As the song ended, he pulled me over to Maria, who was still standing off to the side of the stage.

"You've got to stop giving me the drunk ones, man." He elbows Maria in the ribs, and she laughs, shoving him away.

"It looks like she got the hang of it by the end, be grateful she didn't vomit on you or something, Zutsu," she said, reaching over to fix my skirt.

"We've got Rove and Go next, you know that one?" Zutsu asks. "I'm not sure where the hell you came from, but I don't know anyone that doesn't know the Rove."

For some odd reason, I felt I did know the song, like it was some common knowledge that was ridiculous not to remember.

"Maybe? I'm not sure-"

"Good enough, maybe it'll jog your memory when you hear it." He pulled me back to the dance floor, into a line of dancers that snaked through the entire hall. "Listen, I usually take the lead on this one, but we'll stick to the back to keep you comfortable."

And keep me from embarrassing you. I couldn't even bring myself to be upset, Maria made it sound like the quality of performances were held in high regard by everyone here.

The tempo of this song started much faster than the last, the drums kicking in at full volume, followed by a fiddle that was one of the sweetest sounds I'd ever heard.

It was the first line of the song that sent a cold shock down my spine, and made sweat cling to my face.

Why shouldn’t she go she’s only ninety?

Delilah held out the last note of the line, and my skin grew clammy. I knew this song. I was sure I'd known this song almost as long as I had loved music itself. My hand shook in Zutsu's, and he squeezed it, muttering, "Don't puke yet," as he started stomping his feet on beat with the rest of the dancers. As if they had a mind of their own, my feet did the same.

I know the dance. I could remember every movement to the dance Zutsu was about to lead me through. I could hear it in my head, to the rhythm of the song, in counts of four.

Stomp, shuffle, stomp, shuffle-

Scoot back, back, back-

Away from your partner, back to your partner-

Holy shit.

"Look at you, you do know this one." Zutsu says, loosening his grip on my hand.

I wanted to cry, puke, and laugh all at once. I used to dance. I had to have grown up dancing. To my disappointment, I couldn't remember any more dances offhand, but it did little to stifle my excitement.

Every step, every dip, and every spin made my heart feel as it were flying through the sky over the bright ocean, free as a wild bird. I was addicted to the dizziness, the breathlessness, and the feeling of my body moving with the music. This, right here, was something I'd been born to do. I felt it in my soul the same way I'd felt when I heard Delilah sing. My body, mind, and spirit felt at peace, and I felt like I had some kind of purpose other than being the crew's fragile pet.

"Hey-" Zutsu's voice cut through my thoughts. "During the bridge, when the fiddle goes crazy, we don't keep in line, we'll split off and start two-stepping around the audience, try to get them to dance, yeah?"

"Oh- alright, got it," I said quickly. Relief swept through me as I realized I knew exactly what he was talking about. Two-stepping with a partner was one of the most basic skills I'd learned when I was just a kid- how I knew that, I had no idea. I couldn't picture memories so much as feel it, my mind trying to grasp some physical evidence that wasn't there.

Zutsu pulled me to face him, and he kept his back in the direction we traveled as we kept a fast paced two-step. I fell into the rhythm he set easily, and almost wept at how at home it all felt: the fast pace, the grip he had on my hand, and even the burning in my right calf and left hip.

"You had to have been holding out on me before," Zutsu laughed, guiding me in an impromptu spin that had a small part of the audience cheering. "You dance as naturally as you breathe when you know what the hell you're doing."

I giggled back, heart soaring at the compliment. It made me want to try more, to do something other than-

"You wanna try swing dancing some?" He asks, as if he read my mind.

I nodded eagerly, my heart pounding again as I recall the term, knowing exactly what he meant.

He pushed me out and away from him, before pulling me back in. I knew the steps by heart, I could feel them in my feet and fingers as I ducked under his arms and spun behind him, before twisting around as he caged me in his arms. He spun me around as fast as I could twice, before finishing with a dramatic dip, my "hair" nearly touching the floor.

"Please tell me you're sticking around after tonight, you're the first partner I've had that could move so damn fast."

I clicked my tongue, looking up at him with a twinge of disappointment. "I'm honestly sorry, but I'm just passing through with a group of- with a crew," I finished hastily.

He raised a brow. "Red-Haired Pirates, right? I'm pretty sure I saw you come in on the captain's arm."

I grimaced at the notion my disguise hadn't worked as well as I'd hoped. "I- yeah," I muttered weakly, sheepishly looking at the floor.

"Don't sweat the whole Emily thing," he shrugged, and did his best to wipe a few droplets of sweat from his cheek. "I only knew it was you because I've been staring you in the face, and I was close by when they dragged you backstage. No one in the audience will be able to tell." He poked me playfully. "Not even your Calico Jack of the night."

I groaned at the mention of that stupid dance. "Why do I-"

"Please don't get me booted from this place by answering that honestly. I'd hate to say anything untoward about my boss and her- interesting notions."

I decided not to press the issue, and to take comfort in the fact that Shanks was here for me to make an easy pick. I was also itching with curiosity to hear every song of the night, and to see if I could recall any more dances.

I wasn't sure my legs could take another step as the song finally ended. Zutsu made sure I took a long swig of water and sat down for a minute before disappearing backstage, leaving me with a very bouncy and tipsy Maria.

"That was- burp- incredible!" she shouted, throwing an arm around me. "No offense, but I thought it'd all go to shit."

I grimaced, choosing to focus on the compliment. "Yeah, thanks."

"You knowwww- the next dance is allll yours," she giggled, then nearly knocked me over trying to wave at one of her friends.

My mouth went dry. Already? I thought I'd have a couple more dances to get more comfortable, maybe figure out something simple to start the song with.

"Don't even sweat it, baby, you'll do great." She fixes one of the stray curls stuck in the top of my corset. "Plus, you look great, so it won't even matter."

Her reassurance did little to ease the nausea building in my gut.

---

I'll never forget the song that echoed through the room next. It wasn't anything spectacular, like the operatic section of the first performance. It was just a small tradition in a dance hall that would one day outlive me. But one moment in that song changed my life forever.

The Calico Jack song was an old ballad about a young lady running from her abusive marriage to live on the sea after meeting a handsome pirate in a tavern.

Of course, the only thing I knew at the time was that I had walk around at least once in the room, and pick a partner before the first chorus of the song started playing.

"It was a borin' Evenin' Down at the tavern My husband left for sea again And I was sick of waitin'-"

The song started, and I could feel my heart in my throat as I started my walk around the room.

All you have to do is walk once around and then to Shanks.

My steps felt too loud, the room was too big, and I was moving too fast, not really paying attention to who was actually there.

Look up, look up, look up, look up-

I tried to convince the crowd that I was looking, studying for the most eligible one there. I couldn't convince myself into thinking I was giving a good performance, however. My heartbeat grew louder as the audience cheered when I walked by, and I gave a weak smile, trying to look like I knew what the hell I was doing.

"Sick of drinkin' And thinkin' And questioning my measure Then suddenly A breeze came through the door-"

And then I caught a glimpse of him.

The most beautiful man I could ever think up in my head was sitting on the outermost edge of the crowd, sipping a glass of wine. He had a feathered hat that hung low over his face, but it wasn't enough to conceal his eyes- bright gold, with rings of orange, the strangest eyes I'd ever seen. His hair and beard were nearly black, but against his pale skin I could see the slightest tinge of brown. He was all sharp angles; high cheekbones, a sharp jawline and nose, even his facial hair was shaved into neat lines.

"He was smilin' Blindin' The pirate, Jack Rackham He tipped his hat and that was that I was in love with him-"

I would've liked to say that the great golden sword leaning on the table was what I saw next, but I couldn't. His large coat was ornate and expensive-looking; it was also completely open, his torso completely bare, save for a large golden cross hanging from his neck. Damn. That's all I could think- damn. He was, with no other way to put it, absolutely gorgeous.

And the little, nagging, tempting thought that I both curse and thank God for to this day wouldn't hush in my head. Ask him to dance.

And I wanted to. So, so, badly did I want to walk right up with all the confidence in the world and ask him to dance with me. It felt as if my entire body was burning at the prospect of even looking at him again.

"Oi, over here, Spooky!" Shanks was in front of me now, grinning and waving like the idiot he was. I mustered a weak smile back, quickening my pace and trying to ignore the feeling that the entire room was watching my every move.

Benn had to reach over and keep Shanks from standing to pull me into a hug, which I thanked him for with a polite smile. Yasopp was trying his best to make me lose my composure with stupid faces, and I was failing miserably at keeping my lips from twitching.

Maria was giving me a cheerful thumbs up, Zutsu and her blonde friend, whose name I really needed to learn, by her side as I passed around a second time. This round, I couldn't help but look for the beautiful man. Half of me hoped he wasn't there, and I wouldn't have to worry about getting up the courage to ask him anything, but the other half would have been crushed if he was gone.

He was still there, still sipping from his wine glass, in the exact same position as before, and still as devastatingly gorgeous.

Ask him, you'll regret it if you don't.

Yeah, sure, and embarrass myself to pieces if he refuses me.

I paused for an instant, hearing what sounded like the first line of the pre-chorus from Delilah. Shit shit shit shit shit-

I had to hurry along, or I'd make a fool of myself regardless of who I picked.

Shanks. I'll just go to Shanks. Maybe Benn, if he's too drunk.

But my feet carried me, trembling, to the man sipping his wine.

"Calico Jack Calico Jack I've never met a man here looking like that-"

Still trembling, I held out my hand. His eyes seemed to cut into me like knives, and he didn't move.

But neither did I.

The room had gone silent, and all I could hear was Delilah's voice and the band. Beads of sweat gathered on my forehead, and my hand faltered slightly. I did my best to give a polite smile to him, praying he would hurry up and either refuse me or take my hand.

"Calico Jack You've met your match Calico Jack Won't you give me my heart back-"

I started to turn away, ready to just ask Shanks, or piss myself, whichever came first, before I felt it.

His hand wasn't particularly warm, and it was rough with calluses that I presumed were from the giant sword sitting beside him. His touch was tentative for a split second, before committing and fully grabbing it before standing.

Damn, he was tall. I was eye-level with his collarbone, and was trying my best not to gawk at the chest below it when he gingerly grabbed my waist. I jumped at first, forgetting why I'd come up to him in the first place.

"Your friends have been trying to get you to back away since they saw you looking this way. Should you have listened?"

As bored as his tone sounded, his voice melted me like butter. Fuck. This was embarrassing.

"I just- it felt right to ask you," I blabbered, trying to avoid eye contact with him.

He let out a hmf before stepping closer toward me. I snapped out of my trance at the proximity, and hurriedly stepped out toward the dance floor, pulling him with me. Maria and the rest of the dancers were in my peripheral, all looking as if I'd died in front of them.

Was it so hard to believe I could get a good-looking stranger to dance with me? I'd thought that at least Maria had some faith in me.

We settled into a fast-paced rotating two-step, and as we passed around the room, the audience grew rowdy again. I hadn't realized my decision had held so much weight here, but perhaps the little custom meant more to people here than I realized.

I dared to look back up at his face, and instantly started to sweat again as his gazed pierced through me. Shit, he was even more beautiful up close. He'd taken the lead in the dance now, and surprisingly, held himself with the grace of an experienced dancer. Judging by his looks, I could have guessed he'd waltzed or something fancy like that at some point in his life, but he didn't seem the type to be in a dark, noisy place like this. Nor did he seem to be the type to take part in dancing recreationally as a whole.

Too nervous to say anything directly to him, I offered him my best version of a pleasant smile. He remained stoic, but I could have sworn I saw the corner of his mouth prick up.

I was trying my damnest to ignore the lovely shape of his lips when he asked, "What's your name?" it was a piss-poor, stiff attempt at being polite, but I appreciated it nonetheless.

"Jett."

"How lively."

I hummed in response, unsure of what to say.

"Your first dance tonight was... interesting to watch."

Oh, that was mortifying. My face burned, and I could feel my palms growing sweaty.

"I, uh, I'm new here, I hadn't danced in a while, and-"

"You were drunk?" The corner of his lip was quirked up again, just barely noticeable.

"Yeah, but-"

"And now-"

"There's no need for you to be an asshole," I muttered, my embarrassment reaching my tongue before common sense could hold it.

He gave the impression that not many people stood up to him with the way his brows furrowed just slightly. Thankfully for me, he also seemed to want to keep his composure.

He liked being in control.

Perhaps it was the lingering effects of alcohol that made me gather the courage, but that one slip in his stoic expression made me determined to make him crack.

Perhaps a small part of me wanted to see him really smile.

"So- you've been watching me tonight?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

"That didn't answer the question."

"Please, if I wanted to watch someone drunkenly stumble about, I wouldn't have come all the way here." He was trying so hard to stay grumpy, it was laughable.

As controlled as his expression was, he had one fatal tell- those pretty eyes. And they seemed to like to shift the slightest bit down every now and then before looking me in the face again. There.

"You know, you might think my dancing is subpar, but you certainly don't mind peeking at my-"

His grip tightened on my waist, although his face remained neutral. Leaning down, the brim of his hat grazed my temple.

"You are the last one who can make any comments about any sort of inappropriate glances, dear." As he withdrew, he brushed a stray curl over my shoulder.

I hated that he was right, and his touching wasn't doing much to help my case.

Neither was that very open coat that revealed a little more of his waist each time stepped with his right foot. What was somehow more impressive was that he was completely unfazed by dancing. I was sweating and aching, and a few annoying bits of my "hair" kept sticking to the back of my neck.

As thrilled as I was at the chance to dance with such a handsome man, I couldn't help but think it was such a pity he turned out to be so glum. Witty, certainly, but still a bit sour. To be fair, I also couldn't judge him based on his attitude, as I also wasn't exactly sunshine and rainbows.

We were actually quite alike, I found, as the dance ended, and the two of us were promptly pulled aside by a very loud ginger man. It seemed the both of us were equally as annoyed by him.

"Oi, Hawkeyes, I didn't know you had that in you," Shanks was slightly slurring his words, but still remained perfectly upright.

Hawkeyes? Oh, shit-

I'd just danced with the world's strongest swordsman, a fucking warlord, Dracule "Hawkeyes" Mihawk.

[candypalace]

Translation: Gekirock Magazine Dec 2022 (Kai, Uruha)

the GazettE: the band's potential in a flawless expression. 20th anniversary best-of album drop.

Time flies, and in the course of 20 years, the GazettE has gone through a lot of changes. Their new release, 20TH ANNIVERSARY BEST ALBUM HETERODOXY -DIVIDED CONCEPTS-, is a “best-of” album categorized by three concepts: "SINGLES", "ABYSS" and "LUCY". The band is also taking the opportunity to confront their past albums during [the GazettE LIVE TOUR2022-MASS/PHASE 02 "The Unknown"], which will continue until December 21st. Here, we will ask a few questions to Uruha and Kai, the guitarist and drummer of the GazettE, about the circumstances behind revisiting and bringing the band’s past together.

ー the GazettE is currently celebrating its 20th anniversary in the midst of the Japan tour MASS / PHASE 02, where in addition to the songs from the latest album MASS (2021 release), past songs are also performed at various venues. Uruha-san, Kai-san, how do you feel about performing at all those shows so far?

KAI: Rather than saying that the reason why the contents of this tour are a close look into our past is because this year is our 20th anniversary, it’d say it’s because MASS is our 10th album, and we’ve been playing shows in different places to combine it with our past works. It’s also because we have not done a tour with a concept like this before, to tell the truth, and it started with us thinking: “Well, this will be interesting!”. Since some of the songs from past albums will be performed live for the first time in forever, it’s also true that the performance aspect was more difficult than I had expected (laughs). However, when we actually tried it, the results were pretty good! We found the differences in the set lists each time very interesting and enjoyed every single live so far.

URUHA: Each album naturally has a different “color”, so when we combine our newest album with songs from our older albums in one show, it’s very important for us to highlight these different “colors”. That being said, the number of albums we’ve released so far is quite big. Realistically, it would be difficult to play every single song in our discography, so we generally play about five songs for each concept. And yet, by playing those five songs at each live show, we’ve been able to create an atmosphere and space on the tour that we haven’t had before. I think there’s a great synergy between the songs on MASS and the songs from each of our past albums.

ー By the way, why did you decide that you will be choosing exactly 5 songs for each live performance?

KAI: When we were discussing this with the members, someone suggested that we exclude the songs that we already had on MASS / PHASE 01. And we also thought we should play songs that express the essence of each album more vibrantly than others.

URUHA: In terms of the melody, we also decided to avoid choosing only those songs where singing is emphasized over the instrumental part, and we tried to balance each block of the set list.

ー In the midst of all this, HETERODOXY will be released to commemorate the band's 20th anniversary, and as you can tell from the title, it is a voluminous three-piece product. It seems that “3 CONCEPTS” means that the songs are categorized as “SINGLES”, “ABYSS”, and “LUCY” and are divided into 3 discs. How did you come up with such a compilation that condenses 20 years of the band in this best-of album?

KAI: I think the fact that best-of albums naturally start with singles is definitely not unusual. But in our case, this alone would not exactly strike home. Doesn’t “best” for the GazettE mean showing all our colors in various forms? With that in mind, we decided to divide the songs into three separate discs: "SINGLES", "ABYSS" and "LUCY". "ABYSS" and "LUCY" in particular have a very familiar ring to them and give you a taste of our two extremes.

URUHA: Right, because for the GazettE, "ABYSS" and "LUCY" mean the duality that has been our definite part since forever.

ー Looking back, in 2011, there was a FC-only 2-day live "LIVE TOUR 2011 TWO CONCEPT NIGHTS ABYSS/LUCY ~Two different faces, decadence and instinct, two polar nights~" and in 2017, Halloween shows called "HALLOWEEN NIGHT 17 THE DARK HORROR SHOW SPOOKY BOX 2 ABYSS-LUCY". So, probably the fact that the keywords "ABYSS" and "LUCY" express stillness and movement is already well known to the GazettE’s fans.

URUHA: In terms of sound differences, generally "ABYSS" is centered on the dark worldview that the GazettE creates, while "LUCY" is more aggressive. Both sides are the essential components of the GazettE, and we wanted to convey that in our best-of album.

ー So HETERODOXY is a flawless selection of songs that combines the catchiness and pop sensibility of the singles with the darkness and intensity at the heart of the GazettE.

URUHA: Yes, exactly (laughs). 

KAI: I guess you could say that it is as "flawless" as it can get (laughs).

"If I didn’t have a strong mentality, it wouldn’t be surprising if I shattered over and over again"

ー The hardest thing must have been choosing entries for "ABYSS" and "LUCY".

URUHA: We had an online meeting with the members about that. We put the songs on a spreadsheet and discussed it like “ahh, right, mmm, maybe this”. I think it felt close to how we decide on a live set list.

KAI: At that time, when we listened to some songs again, we thought, “Is it really so that an intense song = a “LUCY” song?”. Even for “ABYSS”, it doesn’t necessarily mean that if a song is a ballad it’ll be included there. For some of them, there were specific comments such as, “Isn't it too beautiful a song to be included in "ABYSS"?". So the entries for this best-of album were selected not only by their melody, but also by considering the deeper meaning and characteristics of each song.

ー It seems that this best-of album project also involves remastering, so considering that different ages of production had to be put into a single album according to its concept, was there anything that you had to order the band to do?

URUHA: What we mainly focused on was the length of time. This time we were not looking for any particular change in sound quality, and we only made some adjustments to the sound level when all the songs were laid out on each disc, based on our current sensibilities. We didn’t consciously change the songs just because they’re old.

KAI: This time probably all the members were thinking in the same way, and I didn’t really have to say anything. We simply adjusted the acoustic pressure so that no piece feels out of place when you listen to the disc.

ー So when you listened to HETERODOXY after the remastering, did you notice anything that made you realize that you have grown or changed?

URUHA: Huh, did I... When we’re playing songs from the past on the current tour, I feel that how I’m producing the sound is different between now and the past, so there’s no doubt that the quality in all aspects is now better than it was. Of course, that was the best we could do back then, but I can feel the change.

KAI: When I listen to it, I also feel “Oh, this kind of phrase was very characteristic of me at that time,” or “Oh, so this is the kind of sound I used to make at that time”. In the end, I have always aimed to surpass my past self, and when I look back on my work, I can clearly see that trajectory in the sound.

URUHA: It depends on the song, but I feel that the guitars used to be more clunky in the past (laughs). As time goes by, I definitely feel that the band is becoming more harmonious in terms of sound!

KAI: Really, in our early days, we didn’t even do any pre-production before recording. Back then, I often didn't know what the other members were going to play when we were recording the drums (laughs). I think the biggest change was that from a certain point on, I learned how to properly grasp the composer's intentions while also understanding what everyone else was doing and coming up with my own sound.

URUHA: Even though we have our own ideas about what we want to do, the GazettE’s current style is to produce sound while complexly looking at the whole picture from the listener’s perspective of how cohesive we are as a band. I think over the past 20 years the GazettE has gradually learned that sometimes it’s important to cut out unnecessary things.

ー To put it simply, even just comparing DIM (2009 release), which had a particularly dense sound, and your latest release, MASS, you can tell that the sound is very different, right?

URUHA: If we go further back to NIL (2006 release) or STACKED RUBBISH (2007 release), in retrospect it feels that the combination between guitars is “hard to see”. Solos and other interactions are fine, but I feel that there were unexpectedly many small places on the underside where we conflicted.

ー Can I now ask Kai-san, as the drummer of the GazettE, what is your greatest weapon at the moment? 

KAI: It’s difficult to explain in words, but first and foremost, it’s the fact that I’m in a position to create a sense of dynamics in the band's sound. I think this is the role I was meant to take on. Our basic style right now is that the melody, lyrics, and the so-called emotional parts of a song are left to other parts of the band, and I’m in the background supporting them and bringing out the dynamics.

ー Uruha-san, same question for you. What is your greatest weapon as a guitarist of the GazettE?

URUHA: It’s satisfying that the more I pursue the way I use physical equipment, the playing method and technique, the more interesting they become and the more my skill grows, but I feel like it’s not the most important thing here. What I personally want to polish is my sensitivity, and I think it would be ideal if I could use that as a weapon.

ー So it seems that the members have been diligently working on themselves over the past 20 years. If there was anything you have been able to "obtain" in these 20 years, what is it? I am sure the list of those things is long, but I would like you to focus on just one.

URUHA: A strong mentality, I think. It’s something I’ve been able to obtain only because I’ve been in a band for 20 years. If I didn’t have it, it wouldn’t be surprising if I shattered over and over again (laughs). There were a lot of times when I refused to give up.

KAI: To be honest, I’m glad that we became a band where the members are able to discuss things properly with each other. If we didn’t, I think we would have disbanded by now. Discussing solutions to problems is one thing, but in our case, even when something generally bad happens, the five of us complain to each other (laughs). So I think our strength lies in being able to share and confront things together.

ー Were there times when you sublimed the frustration by turning it into a song?

KAI: There definitely were. That's what I call having a strong emotional strength (laughs).

URUHA: In a way, that’s because we are a rock band. Like, if something pisses you off, you turn it into sound. I think that has always been in the foundation of the GazettE.

ー Ah, the fact that HETERODOXY is now being released to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the GazettE makes me deeply emotional.

KAI: When you listen to our best songs, I think you can cover the GazettE's past and present at a glance.

URUHA: This is without a doubt a package that will show different people what kind of band the GazettE has come to be over the past 20 years.

ー I can understand that! Finally, please tell us about the GazettE's vision for the year 2023 and the future.

KAI: With the release of our 10th album, MASS, and the band’s 20th anniversary, we have reached a lot of milestones recently. Even though there have been some irregularities because of corona, I think that from 2023 on there won’t be any more special topics in various aspects. For the GazettE, 2023 is the year when we’ll return to our usual business, and our fans may be wondering, “What are you going to do after the 20th anniversary?”. I think we’re entering a period where we need to show our fundamental strength as a band. We want to continue our activities so that everyone can feel what the GazettE is all about, cherish what we’ve been protecting, and challenge ourselves with new things.

URUHA: I think that the process of revisiting past songs live and releasing the best-of album in honor of our 20th anniversary gave us a good impulse for the coming year and beyond. When we faced our past again, we were able to reconfirm and gain a deeper understanding of who we as the GazettE are, and now we are well-prepared to create something new from this point on. Looking forward to moving on to the next project!

[corroded-hellfire]

theres so many fics about the reader learning dnd for eddie but what about a fic where eddie has to learn about something the reader is super into and he doesnt fully get it but hes supportive anyways

This is the sweetest concept! Eddie would completely support you in whatever you love.

I went fully self-indulgent with this request and made the reader a musical theatre nerd. I was just thinking of a big musical that came out in the 80′s at first and picked Les Misérables. It wasn’t until I started writing that it occurred to me how Joseph has his own connections to Les Mis lol. So, it started out as a coincidence but then I HAD to do it.  

Words: 1.4k

“Eddie,” you say with a laugh. “You don’t have to do this.”

He fusses with the buttons on his nice white shirt, tongue poking out in concentration as he looks in the mirror.

“How many times have you sat through a D&D game for me? Even when you had no idea what was going on,” he asks as he fumbles with his top button.

“A lot,” you admit with a sigh. With a soft smile, you take Eddie’s hands in your own and lower them from the buttons. “You can leave the top one open. It looks sexy.”

He huffs a laugh and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“I want to do this,” Eddie tells you quietly. You move to let go of his hands, but he catches them and brings them up to his lips. He presses a kiss to the back of each of your hands. “Plus, I’ve heard the music before. You know, only every time I’ve spent time at your house.”

You giggle and a light blush comes to your cheeks.

“I know, I’m going to wear the record out,” you say.

“That’s fine,” he says with a shrug. “Pretty sure my Metallica cassette is on borrowed time, too.”

“Still, it can be hard to follow,” you tell Eddie, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. “The whole thing is sung through. It’s basically an opera.”

“Babe,” Eddie whines. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls your body flush up against his. “You sit through Hellfire meetings. You come to every Corroded Coffin show. You’ve listened to me ramble on and on about things you have absolutely no clue about. You read The Hobbit for me.”

“I liked it!” you interject. “I like doing all of those things.”

“Exactly,” he says, raising his eyebrows at you. “So, why do you think I’m not going to like doing this?”

“It’s not your thing,” you point out with a shrug, avoiding his eyes.

Eddie pinches your chin between his fingers and lifts your head until you meet his eyes.

“You’d never heard a Metallica song in your life until you met me. Wasn’t your thing. Why won’t you just let me be interested in what you like?”

He’s right and you know it. With a nod, you let out a sigh.

“You’re right, Eddie. I’m sorry. I guess it’s a little bit of a sore spot since I used to get made fun of for liking musicals.”

“I will never make fun of you for enjoying something. Anyone who does that is an asshole. And you know that I know something about being picked on for interests,” Eddie says. 

His hands rest on your hips and you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“You’re the best,” you whisper to him. “And you look very handsome.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you and looks down at his outfit.

“Look nice all cleaned up, don’t I? Who knew I had it in me?”

“You always look nice, so shut up,” you say, hitting his chest lightly. “But you did a great job picking these clothes out. I’m very impressed.”

“I just walked through the store thinking, ‘What would Harrington wear?’”

You laugh and shake your head at your boyfriend. 

“Come on, you,” you say. “We should head out in case there’s traffic.”

 The two of you climb into Eddie’s van and he starts the engine. Before he pulls out on the road though, he reaches down and grabs a plastic bag on the floor at your feet.

“What’s that?” you ask as he rifles through it.

“These fancy clothes aren’t all I picked up at the mall,” he says. “Aha.” He pulls a cassette out of the bag, sheds it of its case, and pops into the player.

“Who dropped a new album?” you ask.

“Um,” Eddie’s eyes scan the case in his hands, trying to find a name. You’re expecting any number of metal bands you’ve become acquainted with since dating Eddie, or even a brand new one he discovered. What you did not expect was the name of a musical theatre composing genius. “Stephen Sondheim. Did I say that right?”

“Sondheim?” your eyes widen, and you grab the case from his hands. “Into the Woods? Eddie! This is amazing. You didn’t have to -.”

“If you say that one more time, you get no sex for a week. No, a month!” Eddie says as he pulls out of the trailer park.

“Ha!” you bark out. “Alright, say hello to your right hand for me, then.”

“Okay fine, I take it back,” Eddie says. 

The cheery opening notes of Into the Woods play over the speakers of Eddie’s van and it’s odd to hear anything other than rock emanating into the air of the old vehicle. 

You reach Indianapolis before the B side of the tape finishes and Eddie’s van sticks out like a sore thumb in the parking lot of the performing arts center. Eddie opens the passenger door for you, and you hop out, smoothing down your black skirt. He threads his fingers with yours and swings your hands gently between the two of you as you walk to the building.

The seats you had gotten were pretty good, and you’d have a great view of everything happening in the show. Eddie looks at the program held in his hands. Les Misérables the big white letters stare back at him. He flips through the pages, and you can’t help but smile as you watch his eyes scan back and forth as he reads through the program. Even dressed in his sophisticated shirt and pants, he still looks like your metalhead boyfriend, and you love it. He hadn’t wanted to wear his rings at first, but you assured him they were fine. You were so glad he did because you know he would’ve felt naked without them. The peek of his pick necklace hanging against his pale chest where his white shirt parts makes your heart rate pick up. Eddie is sitting here in a performing arts center, about to watch a musical with you, and you want to pinch yourself. The man of your dreams taking you to see the show you’d been dying to see on tour? You couldn’t imagine anything better.

As the lights dim in the theatre, Eddie places the program in his lap. He looks over at you with a smile and slips his hand into yours. He doesn’t let go of you the whole first act. He does, however, keep sneaking glances over at you that you don’t see. You’re so engrossed in the show, and while Eddie is enjoying it too, he’s enjoying seeing how happy you are even more. Sometimes your lips would move just slightly, like you were singing the words along with the actors. Eddie wasn’t sure if you even knew you were doing it. 

As the lights come back on as act one ends and the fifteen-minute intermission starts, you look over at your boyfriend with pure glee on your face. He can’t help but grin as he takes you in. Your face is flushed in excitement and you’re almost bouncing up and down,

“That was really good,” he says. “I think that last song there was my favorite one so far.”

“One Day More? Oh, I know! That’s one of my favorites as well,” you tell him. You’re practically buzzing in your seat, and it makes Eddie giggle. He doesn’t know the last time he actually giggled like a schoolgirl. 

“Who’s your favorite character?” Eddie asks.

A frown pinches your face, and you purse your lips together. Eddie knows it’s only a look of concentration, but he desperately wants the smile to come back. 

“That’s hard,” you say. “I like a lot of them. Hmm. It’s either Eponine or Enjolras.”

Eddie’s lips press into a thin line as he looks at you, making you chuckle.

“The poor girl in the brown coat and the leader of the students in the red vest,” you tell him.

“Oh!” Eddie says. “Yeah, I like the dude in the red vest. He’s cool. Good leader.”

You nod, trying to keep your face neutral so you don’t give away what happens to him in the second act. 

“I’m not a fan of the police guy,” Eddie tells you. “He’s a dick.”

“Pretty much,” you agree. “I get he’s only trying to do his job, but he still bugs me.”

Eddie brings your hand up to his lips and kisses the back of it.

“I’m really happy to be here with you,” Eddie says. 

“Me too,” you say. “Like, I’m not sure I’ve ever been happier.”

Eddie leans over and presses a soft kiss to your lips. 

“I’m just going to have to take you to see more musicals then, aren’t I?”

[16woodsequ]

So I read an entire book on the history of bananas so I could understand what Steve would think of them

And now you get to hear me ramble about bananas for a little bit.

A lot of people are aware that the type of banana that Steve would have grown up with is not the same as the one we eat today. Steve ate the Gros Michel banana, which was nearly wiped out by a fungus called Panama disease. The banana western countries eat now is the Cavendish variety.

Every since I learned that factoid I've been curious what Steve's relationship with bananas would have been.

The Cavendish was adopted in the late 50s because it fit the very specific niche producers needed for a commercial banana. It tastes similar to the Gros Michel, looks similar, can withstand transport, withstand hurricanes, and is immune to Panama disease. (This is no longer true, Cavendish bananas began to succumb to Panama disease when plantations were started in Asia. As of now, developing a genetically modified banana is the best solution for a new banana. But if you want to know more about that I suggest you read Dan Koeppel's book.)

The Cavendish is similar enough to the Gros Michel that producers and consummers were able to make the shift, but there are some interesting differences.

Taste: The author tasted many different bananas around the world and concluded that the Cavendish was "the blandest of all the bananas."

As for the Gros Michel it "was larger, with a thicker skin, a creamier texture, and a more intense, fruity taste.” (p. xiv). Although according to this blog, eating an under-ripe Gros Michel tastes exactly like a Cavendish.

So the first time Steve has a Cavendish Steve might think he's simply eating a banana that isn't ripe.

But he'd probably notice something was up before he even took a bite because of another important difference.

Skin: The Gros Michel was a lot sturdier. The skins were thicker and could withstand shipping a lot better. Apparently the Gros Michel was so robust that the fruit wasn't even boxed. "Gros Michel bunches could be thrown in cargo holds and shipped on rough seas without bruising or breaking as long as they were kept cool" (149).

I was shocked to read that before the switch bananas were not boxed. That innovation came with the Cavendish. The introduction of the box meant that bunches had to broken up into the standard '5 to a hand' that we have now.

So when Steve went to the store, grocers "sold Gros Michel by hanging entire bunches of the fruit, straight from distributors, in their stores" (150). This means that Steve would be unused to seeing little bunches of bananas in the store.

Also, the smaller bunches allowed for advertising on each individual banana, which wasn't the case before. So stickers on bananas would also be new.

Would Steve have eaten bananas?

Yes. Bananas were immensely popular. They were cheap, tasted good, and were easy to pack or carry. Babies could eat them, old people could eat them, everyone ate them.

The first drop in banana consumption happened during WW2, because bananas couldn't be grown locally and there were no vessels to bring the fruit to America.

Bonus: A viral song about Bananas from 1923

I found two versions, the Eddie Cantor one is most famous.

(Other Steve meta/headcanon posts)

[levans44]

chapter 1 - house blend, hot, no milk or sugar

One thing was for sure.

He was a creature of habit.

Always walking in around 6:30 am, never past 7. Reaching the register in three long strides before giving her a smile and a small greeting. Tight-fitting athletic shirt and grey sweats, light sheen of sweat on his brow as evidence of a workout. Light blue eyes peering up at the menu from underneath a black baseball cap. As if he won’t end up getting the same thing he’s been ordering for months. As if she won’t ask him the same question every time.

“The usual?”

He’d nod with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced off to the side. Force of habit, she’d assumed.

“Yeah,”

That voice. Deep and rich, rumbling in his chest. A bit gruff as if he hadn’t spoken to anyone else since he’s woken up.

A five dollar bill — she’d hand him back his change for him to drop it in the tip jar every time.

Never a ‘thanks’ always a “thank you” as he slides his wallet in his pocket and steps back from the register. Hands folded in front of him, he’d wait patiently as she starts extracting the shots of espresso.

Medium-sized, house blend. Black, hot. No milk or sugar.

He’d glance around the tiny cafe as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air. Body swaying slightly to whatever song was new on her playlist, eyes lingering interestedly over the paintings on the wall in the back. She’s never told him that she’d painted some of them herself. But then again, he’d never asked.

Pen in hand, she’d spend some time thinking of what new phrase to write on his cup. That’s sort of become a staple for her shop now — writing small jokes, motivational quotes, or even poorly-drawn smily faces next to people’s names.

Most people don’t bother to read their cups, but he’s not one of them.

After a few weeks of experimentation, she'd concluded that he had a particular inclination for her generic list of dad jokes — the worst of the worst (like seagulls and bay-gulls bad).

Every time she set his drink on the counter, she could sense him itching to see what she had written. But he’d always wait until he’d given her a polite “thank you” before turning around and eyeing the side of his cup, a small smile on his face as he made his way out.

He was a creature of habit.

But so was she.

Wiping down the coffee machines for the umpteenth time this morning, she fiddled with the edges of her apron as the clock neared 6:30. Her head ducked involuntary as she saw those sweatpants round the corner, like usual.

As he walked up to the register, she noticed something a little bit different about his walk this morning. His strides shorter, feet moving a bit hesitantly, as if he was preoccupied with some other thought. Perhaps nervous about something later today.

She put a bright smile on her face as she readied the notebook and pen in her hand, even though they both knew what he was going to order.

So imagine her surprise when she asks him her usual question, expecting a nod, and he responds with something she’d never expected.

“Actually, I thought I’d try something new today.”

She halted, eyebrows raising involuntary as the pen froze in her hand.

“Oh, well did you have anything specific in mind?”

“No, I uh…” there was that shy smile again, hand attached to the back of his neck. Soft pink bloomed across his cheeks. Probably an extra tough workout this morning.

“I was hoping you could help me out with that part”

“Oh.” A recommendation. She perked up, the coffee nerd in her running a million different varieties through her mind, trying to match his profile with one of them. She’d normally recommend a sweet latte — vanilla, hazelnut, cinnamon — or even a strong mocha, but Steve didn’t exactly look like the type with a sweet tooth. 

“I’m guessing you don’t like anything too sugary?”

“No,” He shook his head, still smiling shyly, somehow looking almost embarrassed with himself.

“Well, in that case I’d recommend something with a little less body.”

His forehead creased in a tiny divot between his brows, before it disappeared just as quickly. He nodded enthusiastically, maybe a bit too much so.

“Sure, yeah that sounds good.”

She couldn’t help but let out a small smile, peering down and pretending to scribble something down on her notepad.

“Hmm, I have a feeling you might like the cappuchino.”

Eyes glued to a spot on the paper, she bit down hard on her bottom lip, watching his head snap up form the corner of her eye. His eyes doubled in size, something reminiscent of panic crossing his features.

Fighting back another smile, she lifted her head, picture-perfect innocence on her face, like she hadn’t just made a horrible pun using his superhero alias. Had he really thought that she didn’t know that it was the Captain America walking into her cafe every morning?

Anyone could spot those shoulders from a mile away. That stride. Everything about him screamed national hero and savior of the galaxy. Well, maybe except for whenever he was crammed inside her tiny cafe, hunched over the register and staring at her with those wide puppy-dog-eyes.

After a few moments, his body relaxed. Having bought the naive look on her face, he nodded, pulling out his wallet.

“Yeah, I’ll have… one of that please.”

“Sure, that’ll be $4.10”

5 dollar bill — a soft clink as he dropped the change in.

As the milk trickled into the pitcher, she wondered to herself why he hadn’t gone with his usual order. What about today made him want to try something different?

She told herself that she could always ask him, try and make long-overdue conversation. But as she peered up at him over the coffee machines, she noticed that his eyes were glued to his phone.

She watched him type something in enthusiastically and smile at whatever lit up his device in response. What did someone like Captain America text about anyway? When he was going to meet up with Ironman for their next Earth-saving mission?

A warm smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes, she’s never seen that kind of look on his face before — the pictures of him on the news always made him out to be so rigid.

Redirecting her focus to his coffee, she waited until the milk was raised to the perfect temperature before easing the steamer out of the pitcher. Tiny, white foam bubbles popped at the surface as she scooped them out with a spoon, laying it carefully over the espresso. Snapping a lid onto his cup, she reached for her pen, debating in her head what to write this time.

Justice is a dish best served cold. If it were served warm it would be justwater.

Absolutely atrocious, but somehow fitting given his not-so-hidden identity.

A polite “thank you, have a nice day” before he made his way out, that endearing smile emerging on his face at her joke before he rounded the corner and disappeared.

Incredulously enough, she realized that the 5-minute conversation they had today was the longest one yet. Him asking her for a recommendation? Brand new to her routine.

But the way she leaned on the countertop, chin in hand, wondering helplessly about a man whom she knew nothing about (other than his favorite coffee order)?

That.

That was nothing new.

(cap)puccino, w/ milk and sugar masterlist

[misty-moth]

It’s Chapter 3 time! ୧(๑•̀ヮ•́)૭

Here are the links back to the first chapter and second chapter :)

divider (under the cut): saradika

Charles Henri x reader, Moulin Rouge AU, ~2.2k words

Chapter 3

Charles had finally escaped Faust’s increased supervision when he met your eyes. He hadn’t expected me to see you again so soon, and… without saying goodbye.

His heart lurched.

Watching as your face morphed into concern, he quickly forced a smile and a wave as your carriage pulled away.

You’d come back. He knew you’d come back. Surely you didn’t leave so soon because Vlad scared you off… right? What could he even do if that was the case? He couldn’t exactly ask the source on either side.

He turned the corner of the building, hugging the wall as he seeped into the shadows. As his mind reeled, his hand reached into his pocket to the tangible piece of you that he could keep. Unfolding the letter, he tilted it up to catch the light. He couldn’t help but smile regardless of how bittersweet it now felt.

His eyes roamed the words of your song— his song. The swirl of butterflies from when you read it aloud had returned, and his shoulders relaxed. He hastily took in the words to commit them to heart, when he felt a hand firmly grasp the front of his shoulder.

Charles nearly yelped, having been tossed from his reverie. It made it all the more difficult that the hand that had stopped him from crashing belonged to Vlad.

“Charles… you really ought to tune into your surroundings from time to time,” Vlad’s hand balanced Charles before dropping to his side. “What has you so distracted on the fancy stationary?”

Charles flinched backward, though Vlad hadn’t moved a muscle. “Ah, it was the lady’s,” Charles’ voice was strained. “She’s a writer, you see, and she wanted to share what she’d been working on lately.”

Vlad’s eyes shimmered at this new information, his expression softening. “What’s the story?”

“The story?”

“I’d like to know what the story’s about,” Vlad held firm, used to his flighty underling.

“The story… the story’s about, well…” Charles' eyes flicked away, desperate to find words. “It’s about love!”

“…love?”

Charles paled, having started a half-baked lie that he’d now have to sell.

“Sh-she said it was about love…” a small amount of color returned to his cheeks, the words he held bringing the promise of warmth.

He then looked down at the pale hand being held in front of him. Charles didn’t want to understand what Vlad was doing. Or what he was requesting.

Lies lead to more lies.

“Lord Vlad, I wasn’t able to give this back like she wanted me to, so I’ll—“

“I asked her to see me again this time. And she agreed.” Vlad smiled, and his outstretched palm remained steady.

Charles placed his tether to you in Vlad’s hand.

Red eyes began absorbing your song, and Charles muttered an unintelligible goodbye before walking his aimless path again. He was not stopped.

~~~~

It’s going to be a long week.

You had felt it from the moment you set foot in the carriage. There was a stirring ache when you’d witnessed that strange look on Charles’ face. While you’d like to chalk it up to poor lighting or the distance between you, the sadness in his eyes was haunting.

“I can’t tell if you’re knackered physically or emotionally,” Arthur’s playful voice hardly hid his worried words.

“Probably both,” you murmured, but offered him a smile for his unspoken care.

“Ahh, I love a good mystery,” Arthur chuckled before groaning. “Or at least I thought I did.”

You looked through the window again, seeing nothing for a moment.

“Communication over distances is a lot harder in this time period,” you sighed. “People in the future complain when someone doesn’t ‘respond fast enough’, but that’s often less than a day. Waiting a week is torture.”

Arthur stared at you, a little puzzled but attentive. “…and going a day without your performer is trying your patience a bit too much?”

A laugh escaped you. “No, no, not every day. I know that’s unreasonable… right? But… it’s difficult to believe that when my thoughts won’t leave him.”

Arthur hummed in thought. “Perhaps settling for a weekday trip could stave off some inner turmoil? I’m certain that lad is more than willing to stave off and spend time with you.”

“Actually, I don’t think the manager was too pleased with him running off with me tonight. The owner didn’t mention it, though.”

“Right, you mentioned meeting him. Did the performer drag you over so you could watch him be reprimanded?”

“Well, no,” you felt a small blush on your cheeks. “He was only in the owner’s office for a moment. Then it was just the two of us— nothing weird! Oh, don’t give me that look!”

“What’s this? Blimey, now you have 3 blokes pining for you! And that’s only the ones I know of! There’s surely more,” Arthur shook his head while your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “The performer, the gaffer, and me of course!”

“Ignoring that last part, gaffer?”

“The owner, yea?”

You laughed. “I hate to break it to you, but he’s young and beautifully handsome. He does have silver hair, though, so maybe not that young,” you pondered.

Sighing, Arthur dramatically slumped into his seat. “Can’t catch an ounce of luck, eh?”

“Charles is different,” you were able to say it confidently now. Arthur nodded just as easily. “The owner wants to meet me again. Not to say he’s done anything wrong— or weird! But it isn't the same. I’ve only spent time with Charles twice, but I know what I feel with him. I’ve got it bad.”

“You do!” Arthur chuckled. “And it’s quite adorable and enchanting, might I add.” He clapped his hands together. “So! What’s the plan?”

“The plan?”

“I’m about to be one hell of a wingman.”

~~~

The sun’s light flashed down against fluffy pink hair. A cool autumn breeze gusted by, but Charles hadn’t seemed to notice the chill. He had desperately hoped that walking past the plaza’s threshold would grant him a small reprieve, even with the limited free time he was permissed.

Walking without a destination at least felt like a start. He hadn’t walked far from his home, but it already offered new faces…

Charles’ thoughts halted as he saw a familiar, yet unexpected face on his path.

The man he found was wandering down the end of the block without much urgency, but slowly picked up pace as he headed toward the nearby shops. Charles jogged forward, not knowing why your escort was there, but needing to find out.

Arthur continued briskly walking, but grinned back at the obvious, hastened footsteps approaching him.

“Ah, fancy seeing you here! Charles, was it?” Arthur finally stopped and turned.

Lightly gasping, Charles ran his hand through his hair. “Yea… hey, quick question—“

“Not quick enough, lad, she’s waiting for me.”

Pale blue eyes widened. “She’s here?”

“Yea, she’s waiting in the diner down there. She seemed glum, so I figured she needed a pickmeup.”

“Let me go help!” Charles sputtered, “I swear I’ll do anything to cheer her up,” Charles pleaded, latching onto Arthur’s arm.

“No need for those puppy eyes! I’m willing to bow out! I’d wager she’ll be happy to see you,” Arthur patted his shoulder before walking back the way he came… the opposite direction of where he usually went to herald a carriage. Charles didn't waste time on figuring that one out.

~

You heard the bell chime as a frazzled Charles entered the diner. His eyes skittered over to you, and your heart skipped a beat as his smile beamed and his tension laxed.

“Mademoiselle!” His feet were less graceful than usual, but they brought him to the table you were seated at. He opted to move the closest chair to sit directly beside you.

You jumped and giggled as he swooped in to kiss each cheek, his hands gently cradling your face.

Charles studied your expression. “He didn’t do anything weird did he? Were you uncomfortable? I tried to—“

“Wait, what? Who are you talking about?” Your eyebrows tugged together, and Charles huffed a sigh of relief.

“That means he didn’t. Thank god,” he finally settled into his seat, his hands hesitantly leaving your cheeks. His eyes held yours. “You’re just as beautiful during the day.”

You hoped he found deep-red blushing beautiful.

“Th-thank you? You’re beautiful too,” you averted your gaze as he chuckled.

“Merci beaucoup,” he scooped up your hand to place a kiss on your knuckles, before holding it on the tabletop. “Do you like this place? I haven’t been here before, but I would have, had I known you might show up.” His eyes glanced over toward the kitchens.

“This is a first for me, too. I’m not entirely sure what they have here,” you tried to glean the wares from your seat.

“Does your escort like this place then?”

“…yea, sure. I’m really glad I got to see you today. I was hoping we could cross paths when you were less busy. Do you have time to spend outside of the Moulin Rouge?”

“Yes!”

He answered a little too quickly for you to gauge how truthful that was, but you’d had zero luck in the past of refusing his enthusiasm.

You waved down a waiter and ordered a few pastries, and after a few reassurances, Charles accepted that you would cover his expenses on this impromptu date.

The two of you sampled quite a few baked goods, and Charles effortlessly carried the conversations. He spoke about the places he’d frequent around his part of town. It was always so comfortable with him, and his words always painted such vivid descriptions of his thoughts.

As you placed a final tart in your mouth, Charles’ smile became dispirited.

“I may have surpassed the amount of time my manager would consider ‘free time’,” Charles glanced toward the window. You had been together for maybe an hour, but he already looked like he was sulking. “And he has a pretty good memory… I don’t know how often I can get away with checking this diner.”

“I doubt I will come back here any time soon.” His sulk deepened. “What I mean is— I just… I’m really glad I got to see you today. And I’m curious of other places our paths could cross.”

His eyes widened, and he let out a small huff. “…The plaza is fairly large, but would be in-bounds for even the most supervised employee. It would be easy enough to spot someone special from the entrance,” Charles pointed to a spot on the table, before tracking his finger to a corner spot and circling, “to right over here.”

You grinned as you brought your eyes back to his. “I’ll have to try my luck, then. It would be nice to run into you tomorrow, too.”

“It really, truly would be,” his eyes sparkled. “I’ll have to think up what we could do in such a scenario. Would you happen to have any requests?”

You shook your head. “You have time before this hypothetical meeting, and anything would make me happy as I’d be in it for the company.”

Your knuckles were pressed against his lips repeatedly, and you giggled once again.

He leaned your thoroughly-kissed hand against his cheek as he sighed. “Those thoughts will buffer the yapping I’m about to hear from Faust… but I should go start that process sooner rather than later. Walk with me?”

You stood up with him, thanking the staff as you exited. He continued peppering kisses on your hand as you walked down the mostly empty lane.

Suddenly, he tugged you into a shadow near the corner of a stone building. Your back pressed into the wall as he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips. He pulled back a small amount to glance at you, and your hands gripped his shirt as you tugged him back. A small groan escaped him as he held you closer, and the two of you became lost in your shared, sweet moment.

You came back to reality before he did, and you chuckled as he opened his dazed eyes.

“I don’t think Lord Faust is going to like me very much,” you smoothened out his shirt.

“I’ll like you enough for the whole of France,” he stole a final kiss before stepping back into the street.

~

You waved as Charles stepped into the plaza before you took a deep breath. You turned to your left and set off toward the park. You stopped at a bench where a young man was wielding a large newspaper.

Arthur peeked over the pages, “Well, it’s fancy seeing you here, too! I’m seeing all sorts of familiar characters today.”

You snorted, but your remaining smile was effortless. “Thank you, Arthur.”

He folded down his newspaper. “Of course, luv. Let’s head home, shall we? I have an inkling that I’ll soon be well acquainted with this bench.” He ruffled your hair as he linked his arm with yours.

You left this part of town with a swell of relief, having rectified the painful lack of farewell the previous night.

Tags: @candied-boys, @kittygrimm88

Writing Masterlist

[theflyingfeeling]

"#(i'm gonna be sooooo disappointed if their nokia arena setlist is practically the exact same as their tour setlist but with more pyros 🙄)" YES EXACTLY! I'm going to be mad if the only special thing at Nokia Arena will be the supports and a ton of pyros and flashing lights 🙈 Sure I guess they kinda have to play the Exit Emotions songs (🙄) but please let there be a good amount of older songs too 😭

You get it 😭 Like, naturally the focus will be on their new songs, but from what I've understood, the Nokia Arena show will also be a sort of celebration of their 10-year anniversary, so I'm totally gonna expect it to be at least a little more special also in terms of the songs they play, even though I know it might be in vain 😔

I have sooooooo many opinions of their setlists anyway, gonna put them under a read-more in case someone's not up for seeing (minor) criticism lol (not even that tbh, just some constructive feedback / ideas, as if I know anything about how the music business works and how setlist for rock shows/tours are built)

I feel like they've for the past 2 years been playing pretty much the same setlist at shows, which is a huge shame imo because they have sooooooo many great songs in the catalogue, which would allow more frequent rotation in setlist. Obviously I understand they can't make a new setlist for every show, and that's not what I mean to say anyway, but it would be nice to hear different songs from time to time, you know? Sure, some songs get dropped when brand new ones are taken in, but I think the "base" setlist has stayed pretty much intact for two years now. I do understand why they keep such songs as Over My Dead Body and Died Enough For You in their setlists, because hey, they are fan favourites and solid live songs, and also in a way "prototype examples" of Violent Pop, right?

This is why I think they should, instead of using pretty much the same exact setlist for their shows both in Europe/Finland as well as in the US, they could very easily, with the fanbase they already have in Europe, include more older/unknown/non-single songs in their own headline shows, vs. the supporting act slots they play in the States (or at random heavy metal festivals in Europe) to audiences of which only a few have ever even heard of them, in which they could focus on new-ish singles as well as these "prototype Violen Pop" ones such as OMDB and DEFY. Because there's definitely a difference in between playing a show in front of an audience who only just heard about the band five seconds ago (to put it bluntly lol) vs. playing a show in front of an audience who knows the lyrics to ALL their songs, not just the few singles they've maybe heard on the radio/tv. Sorry if I'm stating the obvious here lol, I don't mean to assume y'all haven't already thought about this yourselves, I'm just writing down my own thoughts 😅

That being said, of course I don't know what it takes to rotate multiple different setlists instead of using just one setlist tour after tour 🤔 I don't know how much they have to practice their setlists before the go on tour? Naively I assume they know how to play their own songs (not counting the brand new ones they've never played live 😅). In any case, the reason I was low-key disappointed with the ice hall show was very much because of the setlist, which was the exact same as at the cruise the day before and at Pakkahuone the day after. Pakkahuone, in my opinion, was "just" a regular club show, i.e. not a special one like one expects a goddamn ice hall one to be, so the ice hall one didn't really feel as special as it could've been. Sure, the visual effects were cool and Robin was there which was definitely not expected lol, but in therms of the songs they played it was more or less like any other BC show. But idk, I wonder if the hassle with the bankruptcy of their booking agency maybe had some effect on how the show turned out? 🤷‍♀️

The Nokia Arena show is said to last for about 1½ hours. Now, if their headline shows on the spring tour last about 60 minutes, I really hope that the extra half an hour at the Nokia Arena show will not be filled with just some more light shows, pyros and other visual effects, but instead with actual music! I'm not expecting them to play some of their reaaaaaaaally old songs like Naysayers or whatever (unpopular opinion: not a huge fan of their super older stuff lol sorry), but even some less-played songs from Violent Pop? One of their recent setlist decisions I really can't understand is that Timebomb was dropped to give room to newer songs, because not only in my own humble opinion but also objectively speaking I think that song is one of their best ever. It's such a fucking masterpiece and definitely among the top 5 best songs they've ever made. Obviously any artist/band is in love with their newest songs and thinks that every new song they drop is the "best song we've ever made!!" but honestly I doubt that the 12 songs on Exit Emotions are going to be the best 12 songs they've ever written 😶 (because, again, in my extremely subjective opinion, all of the singles from LOTSAD alone have been better than any single from the new album, excluding maybe Die Another Day. not saying I hate the new songs, but none of them are going to my personal top 10 of BC songs. but yeah, obviously BC's not making music with my personal preferences in mind lol, just stating my opinion again 😂 I have more opinions on their new music, but that's another post entirely)

Still, I'm excited for the Nokia Arena show and I'm sure it'll be fun 🥺 the Irish pub we went to after the Pakkahuone show is right next to it btw, so maybe that's our afterparty location settled, eh? 🥰

[yuriririnnie]

Someone Great

A/N: I haven’t written fanfiction ever since I temporarily gave up hardcore fangirling a couple of years back. I’m so out of touch, but creativity has been creeping onto me lately because law school is eating up most of my life.

Do you wanna guess who she'll end up with? :)

Prelude and part one under the cut! ❤

—

PAIRING | Park Jongseong (Jay) x reader

WC | 1.6k

GENRE | fluff, angst, slice of life

WARNINGS | explicit language

SYNOPSIS | I was told that I was going to love six boys in my life before I meet the one I'm going to love forever.

—

PRELUDE

Seven boys. I am going to love seven boys in this lifetime.

I went to a Chinese temple once when I was 10 because my mother was a hardcore fortune junkie and believed in these superstitions. She made (forced more like it) me come with her to see if I was going to grow up rich or something and while I myself didn’t believe in it, I let her do what she wanted because really at that point in life I never saw myself as anything or anyone once I reached my twenties. 

Not sure if they still have this now, but I inserted a coin in what looked like a gacha machine and pulled out a piece of paper (I vividly remember that I pulled a number 15) which supposedly contained my future and how life would be like for me in terms of health, wealth, love, and everything else. 

It said that I would meet and love exactly six men in my life before I meet the one for me. Back then I never obsessed on boys or the idea of dating in general, but as a young girl, it sparked my interest because the concept of love was something new. I kept that single piece of paper until I graduated college. 

—

ONE. THE FIRST.

Everyone remembers their first. First crush, first date, first hug, the first hand they’ve ever felt, and the first pair of lips they’ve ever touched with their own. 

His name was Park Jongseong. We called him Jay. 

Jay was the perfect first love. He was handsome, kind, lit up the room whenever he entered, valued his friendships, and was the ultimate momma’s boy. I met Jay when I was 13. He was 14, an only child of a business man, learned how to drive at 16, and was the boy of my dreams. 

He was tall, slender, had jet black hair that was often pushed back to show his sharp, manly features. He had a small scar at the top of his nose in between his eyes, and often had a cut in the middle of his lower lip. At first it made him look like a bad boy, someone your mother wouldn’t dream of you ever end up dating. But deep inside, he was kind, caring, and really embodied my love language (which is of course, acts of service). I dedicated literally every Taylor Swift song to him and thought that I was going to love him forever. 

I vaguely remember the day we met, but I do remember the first time I went out with him. I was so impressed by how much he spent on me considering we were just kids and didn’t really get much for a weekly allowance (at least that was the case for me). He was every boy a girl could ever hope their first love would be. He treated me to lunch, held my hand in the movie theater, and I even got my first kiss when he dropped me home that one day. 

“I’ve never done this before.” Because I really hadn’t yet. The closest form of intimacy I’ve ever had were hugs and hand-holding, and most of these didn’t even come from certain “significant others.”

“Just close your eyes.” He seemed experienced. 

Was I supposed to feel embarrassed for not knowing where to put my hands? When should I open my eyes? Should I say thank you afterwards?

See, these are the things I wished they taught us at school. 

And then, in the midst of all this overthinking, our lips touched. 

My first kiss was memorable because we laughed it off immediately after. He asked me how it was and I replied with, “Felt like a rough wilderness, but I guess it’ll feel better later on.” He never let that go because it was the object of literally every inside joke we have among our friends. 

Jay took care of me a lot. He made sure that I ate during lunch and that I received gifts every “monthly anniversary.” He took me to the movies, drove me around, even taking the long ways to places just so we can spend more time sightseeing. He would hold the door for me, carry my heavy bags full of high school necessities, and wipe the sweat off my forehead after cheerleading practice.

We had a lot of fun dating throughout those years, but when I turned 16, I got more and more exposed to school activities, boys in general, and learned more about myself and what I loved doing. Jay was extremely supportive in the things I did, and even if I didn’t get along that much with his mom, he continued to love me as though I was the only woman in his life. 

One fateful morning, I woke up after a busy day at school (we stayed up until midnight for a runway where I had to represent my class and model for the students who helped design clothes based on a theme) and I’m not sure if it was due to exhaustion or the gradual turn of events between Jay and I, but this was something I will always remember even up to this day. 

It was the day I realized that I was no longer in love. 

Going back to that very day, I was so angry, frustrated, and even disgusted with myself for even thinking about dumping my dear boyfriend. My dear, sweet, caring, Jay who treated me like I was glass. But the hardest part of it was accepting the fact that I no longer felt the same. I no longer felt the heat of the sun in my body whenever we touched. I no longer felt the sweetness in the laughs that we shared. I no longer felt the butterflies in my stomach when in fact it used to feel like there was an entire amazon in there. Everything just felt so empty. Was that how it was supposed to feel like? 

I forgot when and at what point I stopped loving Jay, but I knew that he did not deserve me the very moment I even started to doubt my feelings. The night before I finally admitted to myself that I no longer loved him was actually NORMAL. He picked me up from school, we laughed, shared stories, held hands, and even kissed before I hopped off the car when I reached home. Yet, I knew I couldn’t keep these feelings away from him. I couldn’t hide them in the depths of my young heart. I was just too small, and the feeling only grew more as I made every little thing that he did for me a big deal. 

“Did I do something wrong?” He choked. I felt the shock from his voice. He sounded like he felt every kind of negative emotion all at once. 

I took a deep breath and said, “I just don’t think I feel the same anymore.” 

“All of a sudden? Have you been feeling like this for a while?”

“I don’t know.” I really didn’t know. I just knew that even if I was still so young at the time, I spent three years of my young age with Jay. It was my first time ever sharing a huge chunk of my life to someone else. Back then, it felt like a mini-forever. 

It was a 23-minute phone call. 

We broke up that night, and I cried myself to sleep for the first time. 

It was my first heartbreak, and it wasn’t even for a guy who hurt me. He didn’t even try to hurt me. 

Jay lingered for a while. I understood why he held such as a special place in my life and I knew that he was someone my young heart had to experience to know what it was really like to reciprocate a feeling. He was my first leap of faith, my dip in the pool before I dove in, the sweet sensation at the tip of my tongue before I took a bite. I still so clearly remember how he held me the first time we hugged, and the scar he had on his lip when we first kissed. 

I was his first love, and he mine.