#i remember feeling more understood by the music than i ever had by anything or anyone else

[stained-glass-mustache]

i have been possessed by my 14 y/o self and am grinning and giggling and kicking my feet thinking about frerard

[prael]

Not Quite Home

Kinktember Day 15: Stand & Carry

Kepler Youngeun x male reader smut

words: 1,495 Kinktember Masterlist

She is everything you're not. Everything you hate. How can someone refuse to have a place to call home?

All this about being a free spirit and experiencing everything that the world has to offer all sounds well and good but how is a tree supposed to grow if it has no roots? But Youngeun insists that is exactly what she is after, the constant thrill, the constant novelty, the rush and urgency. In every interaction, she seems to have been in search of the next big adventure.

And you think you do her a disservice by not understanding.

Perhaps if you had met each other under other circumstances, things might have gone better for the two of you. But now, you resent how she feels like a stranger whenever you're together. She once brought an element of excitement and risk to a routine, drab life, but that grew exhausting and more than once made you feel like you were suffocating. You grew to loathe her carelessness.

"Your parents?" You ask as she stands in your bedroom for the third night in a row, "Have you even told them you're back in town?"

She shakes her head in lieu of an answer, "You know how they are."

"You're going to blame them for wanting their daughter to visit for once?"

Youngeun laughs. It's one of your least favourite traits—her incapability to take anything seriously. "Not your business. Besides, seven nights, remember?"

Yes. Seven nights. This is what she told you, another expiry date on another chapter of whatever the fuck this is between you. Another unspoken contract was signed for the hell of it. A time limit, for something that isn't even real.

"Just think about it," you continue, hopelessly, "talking with your family. It'll clear your mind."

"Know what clears my mind? The wind in my hair, sun on my skin, music in my ears," Youngeun runs her hand through her silky hair, "Landing in some new town, finding a new local hang out to try something exotic and then exploring whatever is hidden in that town's history, picking up a new person, hooking up with them, letting the excitement course through my veins, knowing there's always something else waiting on the horizon."

Another insufferable thing that she does. It's been maybe fifteen minutes since you tangled limbs in the bed and now she's standing across the room naked making no secret of the fact that she picks up guys and girls wherever she goes. Youngeun looks down at you on the mattress and runs her eyes up and down your body, her fingers resting lightly over her collarbone.

You follow the line of her fingers, nails cut short with traces of peeled black nail paint. A callus on her finger is a reminder of how often she played the guitar. She runs them down her chest, thumb catching a nipple in the process of doing so.

"Look at you. You get hotter every time I come back." And just like that, Youngeun drops a compliment, casual and effortless and you question who's benefiting from this relationship because it clearly isn't you.

You're gonna fuck her again tonight. Tomorrow too, and another three nights after that. After which she'll be gone for another six months to a year. There's a weird emotional emptiness to this routine—you give and she takes and this is all she asks.

"Come here, will you? Pin me to this wall already. Make me feel you." Her hand cups her breast and another traces its way down her abs, a clear intention.

You should hate her, really. Like how you hate the idea that she left home for no reason or how she wasted her potential, hate her for her indifference, for her recklessness and her cold detachment, or hate the fact that it's just meaningless sex. 

She doesn't like strings, it makes no sense to her how people commit. If she was the type of person who asked to be understood, you would probably try to, but that's never something she ever expressed. 

For all of that, you don't hate her. It's why you're still walking towards her and she's backing up into the wall.

So, what does she ask for? Her answer is pleasure and pain.

She kisses like a raging fire. Everywhere her hands roam leaves marks on your skin; she scratches deep in your back as you hook her thigh up around your waist. A hand between her legs, sliding in without any sort of preamble. She's still dripping wet, though some of that may well be your last load. She tastes of salty, sweaty sex and you relish it. She kisses and she gasps as your fingers work at her entrance; crooking them upward so you can press them into her and rub right against the sensitive spot inside her.

Her tongue slides past yours, hot and wet as she grinds up into your hand, claws digging into your lower back. Your hand fucks into her roughly with reckless abandon and her breathing gets shallow as your fingers bring her closer and closer.

It doesn't take long, she's close, you know that when she throws her head back against the wall. "Stop—wait, fuck—wait," Youngeun barely gasps and then with your name in her throat, the friction of your fingers sends her over the edge. A moan escapes as her mouth falls open, eyes clamp shut as you finger her to orgasm.

It's always been easy to make Youngeun cum, but it never loses its magic. There's something particularly thrilling to the way she moans your name in that honey-laced rasp, to the way her entire body arches upwards as the pleasure mounts. A sharp gasp cuts the air.

Her limbs slacken. She leans her head against the wall. She's struggling to catch her breath.

And this is the fucking problem. For every reason to hate her, there are so many more reasons to enjoy her.

That's when you lift her, hooking up the other thigh and holding her by her tight little ass. Youngeun hisses and she's staring daggers and that's always a part of the fun. She'll give you these looks that could kill a lesser man, but you know the only solution is to pound her into submission.

"Be rough with me. Hard," Youngeun pants, sucking air in, breath ragged. Her skin's hot to the touch.

"Like last time?" Your voice comes low, thick and gruff as you hook her legs higher.

"No, harder, faster," Youngeun replies between rapid, short breaths, she grips your arms, rolls her hips and wraps her body tighter around you, "Want me to stay? Fuck me until I can't walk out."

You're incensed and sliding your length over her slick, warm, inviting heat, before slamming her back into the wall, entering her in one long hard motion and enjoying the way her lips fall apart; enjoying the way her hot and messy, fucked-out body arches upward as you hit deeper and the way her cries pitch. You don't even wait for her to catch her breath before snapping your hips over and over and giving Youngeun exactly the type of pounding that she wants.

There's a sharp gasp. A second of silence and then a choked-back scream. You feel a palm on the nape of your neck and a sting on your shoulders as her nails dig deep and scratch. She rakes them over the broad expanse of your upper back and it fucking hurts. It fucking stings and it's delicious. You bury yourself deep inside her, stretch and fuck her all open on your dick.

"Like that. Yes! Like that! Fucking ruin me."

"Since you asked so nicely."

Her moans become a struggle now that you've run a hand roughly up her body and planted it around her neck. Squeezing, not too hard, not to cut her airflow, not to bruise, but firmly enough that she will feel it and feel that she is being held. She loves to feel hopeless. And there, that's what you like: her hot, sweaty body locked between you and the wall and helpless against you as you sink into her.

And as much as she says it doesn't mean anything. Youngeun cries out your name like it means something.

The ever-familiar suffocating grip of her wet cunt grips you as she cums again. Bodies flushed together, grinding and sweaty.

"I can't breathe—" Youngeun whimpers in that cracked, vulnerable and submissive way and you snarl. Fuck her up as promised. Hurt her like she begs for. And Youngeun loves it like nothing else, absolutely nothing, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and a strangled groan as you reach another climax and fill up her pussy again. You pound yet another load into her tight hole.

As much as she would hate to ever admit it, this is as close to a home as she has in her life.

[nyeddleblog]

A little piece of heaven [Part 1]

Pairing: Wade Wilson x Original Female Character x Logan Howlett. Summary: In Wade's timeline, Iris is his supernice upstairs neighbor. In Wolverine's, she's his beloved dead wife. A/N: This is a Wattpad Fic with an original character of mine that you can find here. This is just the first chapter that I wanted to share with you. Warnings: Deadpool & Wolverine spoilers, kinda.

Chapter 1: Refraction.

When they entered the room she was in a corner, elbows resting on the table as she talked passionately to Vanessa. Logan's gaze was instantly hooked on her, ever since he realized how her delicate features were exactly as he remembered. He froze, inhaling sharply as the memories came back flooding. Her gentle touch, her soft melodic voice, her cute laugh.

This wasn't, of course, his Iris. He tried to pinpoint each difference as soon as he could but both her beauty and her lively nature were tearing him apart.

Her silky blonde hair fell in blowout waves and her lips were a glossy crimson color. She wore a strange piano pleated skirt that barely covered anything and a mesh blouse that showed the bright red bralette she wore underneath. It felt like a desecration to his wife's memory. A sexier, younger, messier version of what she used to be.

Yet she laughed, her eyes crinkling, her small tooth gap showing. And her shoulders shook, and she talked, and her voice was gleeful and melodic. Iris swayed to the music delicately, timidly and then smiled at her friend in front of her.

She was a sight.

Logan felt Wade's hand gently tap his back and understood that he knew. Rage filled him. The little fucker knew, even back when Logan had told him about his dead wife. The little fucker knew and he hadn't told him that it wasn't like that in every universe. Wade knew that in his, Iris was alive and well. He was going to stab him as soon as she was out of sight.

Logan turned to leave but Wade put a firm hand on his chest and pushed him into the picture, acting as if he didn't know what he was doing.

"Wade!" Iris turned around, smiling sweetly, "I thought for a second there that you weren't going to make it! This is actually my outfit for your funeral!"

"It's the most hideous thing I've seen in my life and yet you managed to pull it off!" he answered snappily, with a smile as sweet as hers, "I came back and I brought you a gift."

Logan frowned, not remembering Wade taking anything from the void. Then, he felt his hand firmly press against the back of his neck, like he was some kind of kitten being carried by it's mother, as he dragged him and pulled him onto Iris. 

He was actually going to stab him right there.

"For me?" Iris followed him suit, putting a hand softly on Logan's shoulder, but giving him an apologetic look when they made eye contact, "I've always wanted a Wolverine!"

"Oh, sweetheart" Wade pressed his hands together and tilted his head, "I know."

"You shouldn't have..." And then she laughed, and extended her hand out for him to shake, "Iris Finch, a pleasure."

She looked up through her lashes and Iris had always had such plump, soft and inviting lips that, despite knowing it wasn't his wife, he wanted to kiss her. 

He managed a nod, his voice barely audible, "Pleasure."

And Logan tried to avoid her for the rest of the night. Emphasis in 'tried', because Wade didn't seem to respect the fact that that was not his dead wife. No, this Iris had dirty blonde hair and she never got her teeth fixed. This Iris used a different perfume, a cheaper one, and seemed to like Wade's jokes far more than what Logan was comfortable with.

But just like his Iris, she had an impecable intuition and every time he wanted to take a look at her, she stared back, giving him a smile. Just like his Iris had, she timidly approached, a known curiosity in her eyes that he missed dearly. And he was back there all over again, feeling endearment for her already.

"I know this is sudden, and maybe a bit forward, but I don't remember you."

"Oh, I'm not from..." he tried to explain, his voice rough, "I'm from another..."

"Timeline, I know" she nodded, fidgeting with the beer in her hand, "I meant..." she looked back at Wade, who was finally talking to Vanessa, and then gave Logan a bashful smile, "What was your Iris' abilities?"

Logan frowned. His Iris. He knew the distinction, he knew the distinction, but how did she know he had a Iris? He licked his lips, feeling uncomfortable, yet he answered "Lucid dreaming."

Iris nodded, "And she never told you what dreamwalking was?"

He felt his nostrils flare and anger start to get a hold of him. He didn't understand why yet, but Iris' existence alone was starting to enrage him. Felt like an impostor, uncanny and profaning.

"No."

The girl, oblivious of his annoyance, smiled widely and started explaining in depth the abilities of his beloved dead wife. To be fair, she was explaining her own abilities but Logan didn't want another version of Iris telling him something about her. 

"...And that's why every time I fall asleep, I usually see a Wolverine." she continued, making him raise his eyebrows "And of course I don't think I've met every single one of them, but I'm pretty sure I would've remembered you if I had!"

"In order for you to dreamwalk into another universe, you need another you inhabiting it, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, my wif... Iris" he corrected himself, making sure that he was staring straight into her eyes and making himself clear, "Has been dead for over twenty years."

Iris's smile faltered, replaced by a look of genuine surprise.

"I... I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I thought..."

Logan's anger was slowly simmering down, replaced by a cold, hard realization. It wasn't really her fault that she was another version of the love of his life, however fucked up that was.

A long silence stretched between them, filled only by the soft murmur of the crowd. Iris was the first to break it, smiling yet again. 

"So, you're my new downstairs neighbor, huh?"

A/N: I hope u guys understand where I'm going with this... And yes, I'm going to make a side fanfiction where I write the sweet, tragic story of Logan and Iris of his timeline.

NEXT PART.

[callmerainman]

in having ✨ideas✨ again, and this one’s very fluffy

could we maybe have a sinner! adam oneshot where the reader plays a mandolin and decides one day to play this song in a very low key attempt to impress romance the guy? and maybe adam’s all like “yeah it’s alright I guess” but he’s totally transparent.

please, and thank you

SHOW AND TELL | sinner!Adam x sinner!Reader

word count. 1.7k

tags. Adam being in denial, Reader plays mandolin, fluff, sinner!Adam, gn!sinner!Reader

a/n. aaaa sorry for taking so long! hope you'll enjoy this because the prompt was so cute and funny 😭

This could be a chance.

You rotate the wooden instrument between your hands. A mandolin, your musical companion for so many years. You would have never thought that one day you'd be using it for trying to pick up someone. Especially not the First Man, Adam.

It's "Show and Tell" night at the Hazbin Hotel. The monthly occurrence you never understood, because no one really ever showed anything worth talking about. Angel Dust would put on some of his old porn videocassettes, Husk a cheap bottle of booze that he'll come up with a story for right on the spot, and let's not talk about the time Cherri Bomb showed one of her most recent, newly advanced creations that almost blew the whole Hotel up to pieces.

Also, the last couple of months, Show and Tell night has been graced with the addition of Adam. When he set foot in the Hotel it was clear that he still didn't really believe in Charlie's project. He just didn't have any other options. But, after some time, a hint of comfort was starting to show on the arrogant fallen angel. He became tamer, more sufferable to be around, almost pleasing sometimes. At first, you thought that you would have never had anything to share with Adam. But then conversations started to flow in the common rooms, and you two started to hang out outside the Hotel, even opening up to each other.

Adam wasn't that bad. Adam was funny to be around. Adam was easy to talk to. And Adam was pretty and...

Oh. Oh!

You crushed hard. Denial was the first stage, because c'mon, that's Adam, the former leader of the Extermination, a sadistic bastard. But he was also the one to greet you first when you came down for breakfast in the morning, who sat next to you at dinner to have some small talk, and the one who laughed more at your jokes. You learned to accept your feelings, but then a new problem presented itself. How exactly do you pull Adam?

He was more interesting than you thought that you could ever be. Not to inflate his ego, but he was the First Man to ever be created. He named the animals of Earth, he has been around for so long that he has seen it all. And he had two knock out ex-wives! How could you even compete? He played the guitar and was in a rock band in Heaven. But then, remembering that information, you glanced over at the wooden mandolin hung up to a hook on the right wall of your Hotel room. Maybe Adam didn't like you, but he for sure liked music. And mandolin wasn't exactly his type of instrument, but you still had music on your side. Yeah, this could be a chance.

——

You and the other guests take a seat each on the couches and chairs of the common room. Adam is sitting right in front of you, your eyes interlocked for a second before you both look away. Geez your cheeks feel hot. Then here comes Charlie, waltzing in the middle of the circle traced by the seats, smiling happily as she announces Show and Tell night. She suggests Angel to go first.

"I hope it's something a little...different from your usual presentations" she proposes.

Angel cocks an eyebrow upwards "No miss, this is exactly what you're all thinking of".

Husk groans, dragging a paw down his face as Angel puts on one of his porn movies he starred in. You look everywhere but the screen, and this includes Adam. He's not paying attention, playing with his VPhone behind his crossed legs so that Vaggie won't notice and threaten him with her angelic spear. As you throw him quick glances throughout the night, you realize that he quite literally didn't pay attention to anyone, not even a second. Concern starts to build up in you. What if he doesn't even look at you?

Adam only intervenes when it's his turn, positioning himself in the middle of the circle with a loud sigh. He then rummages in his robe, and takes out his designated object.

"A bra?!" Cherri Bomb asks.

"Yeah" a sly smirk spreads on Adam's face "this is the first bra a chick ever threw at me during a show. The first of many, many bras"

"How the fuck did you even bring it down here?" you question, more worried about that circumstance than the origin of the underwear article.

"You don't know my ways" Adam replies.

He keeps rambling some more minutes about how he broke Heaven's record for bras thrown on stage, with the smuggest, biggest shit-eating smirk known to man. After he's done, he plops down on the couch again, ready to not listen to anything the next guests have to show. And he does, either by taking a nap or playing on his phone.

"It's your turn, (Y/N)!" Charlie announces, clasping her hands together.

Shit. You reach for the case resting near your ankles. You open up the hard cover and take out your wooden mandolin.

"You play instruments?" Angel Dust asks, surprised.

"Yeah, I practice everyday" you say.

Of course no one knew, because Adam always has his rock music and amps blasted on max and he obliterates the hell out of any sound from your Hotel floor.

"I used to play mandolin when I was alive, it was my first instrument. I thought that I might as well bring it down here with me".

"C'mon, play something!" Charlie encourages you, a bright smile sparkling on her adoring face.

Here comes the difficult part. You gulp, feeling your guts squeezing from nervousness. Because Adam is staring. Since Charlie called your name, you noticed that Adam had put down his phone and he's now actually paying attention to you, unlike how he did with everyone else. This is sending you over the edge. Out of embarrassment and excitement at the same time. Damn butterflies in the stomach. You just hope to not mess this up.

You stroke the chords with your thumb to make sure they're correctly tuned. You shoot Adam a quick glance. Still staring at you, nonchanlanty, but he's watching. Just like you planned. You take a deep breath, you position your hands correctly and then you start playing the mandolin. The tune is relaxed, dreamy, mesmerising as you pluck the strings with ease. Your fingers almost flow with the sounds coming out of the instrument. You make sure not to mess anything up. Your technique is flawless, so there shouldn't be any worry. What's worrisome is trying not to look at Adam too much. You do give him a few glances to check for any reaction, but this could lead to missing pieces. You take a deep breath and go on strumming. Finally, despite Adam's wanted but feared attention, you manage to relax and let the sweet serenade curl around the room. As the delicate melody unfurls, you notice Adam shifting, placing his chin in his palm as he gives you his undivided attention. Then, you signal the end of the tune by finger picking a calm, lingering chord progression. The second you put the mandolin down, an excited clapping of hands makes you jump on the spot.

"Bravo! Bravo! That was amazing, (Y/N)!" Charlie erupts.

You chuckle "Thanks, Charlie"

Your gaze shifts from Charlie to Adam. He was still staring, but something's different. Is he blushing? Are his pupils dilated? Or maybe is just the result of your delusional imagination. Maybe not, because even someone else noticed Adam's change in attitude.

"Sooo, Adam, whatcha think?" Angel Dust cooes, a pointy smirk curling on his face.

Adam snaps out of his state, his eyes shooting up at Angel.

"Uh?" he goes, defiant but at the same time confused.

"You seemed to reaaaally enjoy it" Angel inquires.

Adam's eyebrows shoot upwards, his lips tight and reduced to a thin line. Oh he's blushing.

"I ehm-" he stutters.

"Right!" Charlie is quick to interrupt him "What did you think about it, Adam? Share it with us!"

Adam looks at you for a brief moment. You don't say anything, you're probably as embarrassed as him. He breaks eye contact, scoffing.

"Yeah I don't know, whatever" he mumbles, crossing his arms in an attempt to look unimpressed.

His own body is betraying him. His foot rythmically tapping on the floor, his heart racing, his scrunched, nervous face and his cheeks now turned into a hot mess.

"You sure? Seems like Cupid hit you in the right spot" Angel elbows Cherri Bomb, who giggles "Your face looks as hot as me"

Adam grits his teeth, clenching his fingers around his clothed arms.

"Yeah!" Cherri Bomb intervenes "you need a hand? A cup of water? Some air? (Y/N), you broke this guy!"

Adam jumps in his own seat, pointing a furious finger towards Cherri and Angel who are laughing their asses off.

"Cupid didn't hit shit! I said that I don't give a flying fuck about (Y/N) and how fucking good they look when they play mand-FUCK!"

"Ooooh" Angel and Cherri sing song in unison, a devilish grin.

"Aww, Adam! That's so sweet of you!" Charlie chirps, genuinely proud of him.

Adam lets out a frustrated, anger-boiling growl before hurriedly getting up from his seat. His newly sprout horns grow bigger, his tail quivers and his wings puff. He starts to hysterically point at everyone in the room.

"You know what? Fuck this shit! Fuck this stupid Show and Tell night, fuck this Hotel, and fuck you, and you, and you, and fuck everybody! Except (Y/N)- no wait shit!"

And then, Adam punches the air and just storms off, leaving Angel and Cherri Bomb laughing behind him.

"Oh my God..." you whisper, incredulous as you rub your shoulders up and down with your hands.

Angel gets up and plops down on the couch next to you, leaning towards you with a smug grin.

"I dunno why would you hit that, but good job" he says, offering your a fist bump.

You let out a small chuckle before pounding Angel's fist.

Nailed it.

[angelsnkisses]

Hi, can you write a one shot inspired to this tiktok? https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSLP3jkQy/

Apologies ♡ - Spencer Reid x fem!reader

‼️ NSFW - MDNI ‼️

A/N: hello, anon! thanks for the request, i actually really liked writing this :). it's pretty long so enjoyy <3!

Summary: You get into a fight with Spencer, and he decides to make it up to you. <3

warnings: slight angst, drinking/intoxication, dom!spencer, sub!fem!reader, brief choking, fingering.

You and Spencer had lived together for a few weeks now, and it was bliss so far. The only downside was how often he was gone, constantly working with his team to solve crimes and catch what he calls 'unsubs,' which was all pretty new to you. None of your other partners had ever had such a serious job, but then again, all your exes were total losers.

You loved Spencer, he was so good to you. You had been together for about a year, and he finally convinced you to move into his place with him. He said he felt better knowing you were safe with him. It was honestly cute. Despite all that, you often missed him. He was always out of state, or at the office working on god knows what.

That's how you ended up alone on a Friday night, half a bottle of wine in your belly and the music up loud. You were dancing around carelessly, trying to ignore your thoughts. Spencer had to work late, again. You felt more alone than you cared to admit to him, but you decided it didn't matter much.

Moving around helped, something to get your blood pumping for some kind of excitement, hence the solo dance party. You weren't drunk, but you definitely weren't sober. Your blood felt warm, making you all fuzzy inside.

You were so caught up in your dancing that you didn't even notice how late it was. When you caught a glimpse of the clock, you slowed to a stop. It was one in the morning, and of course, Spencer wasn't home. You groaned, turning off the music.

Maybe it was because you were a little tipsy, but you were pissed. Before you knew it your phone was in your hand, ringing and ringing as you pressed it to your ear.

"Hello?" Spencer picked up, almost immediately.

You paused, not really sure what you wanted to say. You were mad, you wanted to say something.. you probably should of thought about what exactly that was before calling.

"Y/N? Hello? Are you okay?" his voice came through again, and you remembered you had to actually speak.

"You're late," you stated, leaning against the dining room table.

"Yeah, we're working on a pretty big case right now," he replied.

" Yes, I know that, because you've been working late all month, Spencer. You come home when I'm already asleep and then leave before I wake up. I miss you," you grumble, hearing a heavy sigh on the other end. You felt a small pang in your chest at the sound. It wasn't like you to be so confrontational, and you understood he was busy.. you were just too heated to shut yourself up now.

"I know, baby. I'm just busy, it's not personal," he assured you apologetically.

"It's not personal? That doesn't matter, Spencer. What matters is I am lonely, and horny. That doesn't bother you?" you stumble over your words a little, a lot more blunt than normal. Maybe you were drunk.

There was a long, agonizing pause before his voice came through the speaker once more.

"Y/N, have you been drinking?"

You don't say anything, just gritting your teeth and releasing a frustrated groan before hanging up and slamming your phone down on the table. What an asshole, you open up and all he's curious about is your state of sobriety? Fuck that.

You were too angry when you drank, you needed to sleep it off. You picked your phone back up, ignoring Spencer's texts and walking towards your room. You flopped onto the bed, allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.

**

"Y/N? Baby, wake up," a voice broke your sleep, familiar and quiet. Your eyes fluttered open, feeling a hand rubbing up and down your back. You lifted yourself up a little, looking up at whoever was disturbing your rest.

"Oh, it's you.." you mumbled, laying back down and turning away from him. You heard him sigh, the bed dipping behind you as he sat on the edge. He leaned over, laying a hand on your arm as he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, angel," he whispered, guilt leaking into his tone. You felt your stomach turn, feeling like a total bitch now that you were pretty much sobered up. Drunk you was such a menace, you were embarrassed. Still, he was never home. You were somewhat in the right.

"It's fine, Spence," you said shortly, your voice flat. He gently moved your hair from your neck, moving his kisses up.

"No, it's not," he disagreed against your skin, "You're right, you shouldn't have to feel so lonely all the time, I'm sorry."

You felt a smile twitch at your lips when he apologized, unable to stay mad. He sounded so genuine.

"Let me make it up to you.." he suddenly said, a seductive hint in his voice as he moved his hand down. You shuddered slightly, instinctively moving up into his hand. You almost turned him down, not wanting him to feel like he had to.. but fuck, you needed him. It had been too long.

"Okay," you whispered, thankful you were facing away so he couldn't see your cheeks were flushed and red at his words. You felt him smile against your skin, beginning to pull you closer.

He moved quickly, sitting up on the bed, leaning against the headboard. He opened his arms for you, watching you move closer. You were about to straddle him, when he interrupted you.

"Ah, not like that, sweetheart. Face away from me," he corrected. You raised a brow, but still did it, pressing your back to his chest as you sat between his legs. You felt more exposed feeling his fully clothed body against yours, only wearing underwear and one of his sleep shirts.

"So sexy.." he muttered against your neck, his hands slipping under the shirt as he nipped at your skin. You sighed heavily, your eyes fluttering shut and your head falling back on his shoulder.

"Good girl, just relax.. I'm gonna take care of you," he promised, sending a shiver up your spine. You felt his wandering hands moved down to your legs, one of them grabbing hold of a thigh. He forced your legs open, his free hand moving between them to start touching you.

He gently pressed the pad of his index finger to your clothed clit, earning a sharp gasp from you. He rubbed over you halfheartedly, the tiny bit of pleasure setting your nerves on fire.

"Fuck, please don't tease me," you whimpered, hearing him chuckle darkly in your ear. He shook his head, long hair tickling your cheek.

"You're not in charge here, baby. Be patient," he cooed, making you whine and squirm. He just tutted. "So needy."

He eventually slipped his hand into your underwear, groaning quietly when he felt how wet you were. You could feel his hardened bulge against your back, your heart pounding as he worked. He shimmied your underwear down, and you helped him pull them off your legs eagerly before leaning back into him.

You shuddered when you felt a finger go back down there, circling your clit slowly. Even that was enough to make you moan softly, so touched deprived and desperate. He relished in your noises, the sound music to his ears. The hand on your thigh grew tighter when you squirmed around, looking down at what he was doing.

You winced when his finger moved down, his fingertip dipping inside before disappearing, his action repeating a few times. You breathed a shaky whine again, sounding more desperate by the second.

He finally eased his whole middle finger in, your head falling back as you gripped onto his upper arm. Sure, it was just his finger, but it had been at least two weeks now, and you were all kinds of sensitive. He began pumping it in and out of you at a leisurely pace, ignoring your inability to handle such a simple action.

"W-wait, wait stop," you whimpered when he sped up, already overwhelmed with the feeling. He hummed against your neck, not halting his movements. Instead, he curled his finger up, earning a pleasured cry from you. You trembled, warm delight filling your veins as your body convinced you to adapt. The pleasure wasn't too much anymore, you wanted more of it.

"Hm? You want me to stop?" he repeated, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thigh. You breathed a heavy sigh, shaking your head timidly, and he chuckled at your indecisiveness.

He kissed your cheek sweetly, pulling his middle finger out and rubbing over your clit again. "Good girl, you're being so sweet for me," he praised, making your face heat up and your eyes flutter shut. You were never all that subby, but holy shit, he was doing a number on you.

"Think you can take another finger?" he asked, the lewd question slipping from his lips as if it was nothing. You whined, turning your head to hide your face in his neck, embarrassed. He shook his head, the hand on your thigh snaking up to your throat as he forced you to look down at his hand.

"Answer me, do you?" he repeated, more stern now. You gasped softly, finally nodding. "Yes! Yes, please just do it," you begged, much to his enjoyment. He squeezed your throat just barely, his index finger joining his middle as he pushed back into you.

The stretch made you wriggle in his grasp a bit, the dull, sharp sting less than comfortable for you. He was trying to go slow for you, but he was eager to see you fall apart under his touch. He started pumping his fingers at a snails pace, paying close attention to your reactions as he did.

As soon as he could see you were ready, he sped up, feeling proud of himself when you moaned loudly at the sensation. Pleasure was coursing through your body, your legs instinctively closing when it became too much. He removed his hand from your neck, clearly unable to release your thigh for even a little bit.

"Stay still. That's your last warning," he hissed in your ear, making a tremble run through you. You whimpered, clutching his arm for dear life and trying to do as he said.

His hold on your thigh wasn't as harsh as before, but it wasn't gentle, either. You breathed heavily, a burning tightness building up in your abdomen. You dug your fingers into his covered bicep, fighting to keep your legs open. "Fuck, Spencer," you moaned warningly, trying to signal you were close. He got the memo, his thumb pressing to your clit and circling firmly with his pumps.

That was enough to push you over the edge, a strangled cry leaving your lips as you felt your orgasm washing over you. You couldn't stop your legs from closing around his hand, stopping him from overstimulating you as you rode out your high.

Then you remembered his warning.

"Wait, wait I'm sorry-" you started to plead, heart pounding. Before you could say more, he grabbed you roughly, flipping you around and pinning you to the bes. He crawled over you, leaning down to soeak darkly in your ear.

"You should not have done that.."

**

A/N: well this was an adventure, i've never written anything based of a tiktok before, but i loved the challenge :). thank you to whoever requested, hope you enjoyed <3!

[smellslikechahnspirit]

Always

[You're depressed]

BangChan x Reader

🕸🤍 read guide lines in Masterlist!

THIS IS (OBVIOUSLY) ALL FICTION AND IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY! THIS IS MY PERCEPTION OF HOW I THINK SKZ WOULD BEHAVE IN SITUATIONS LIKE THIS AKA, NOT REAL.

Chris knew these days were already a bit hard for you. You were in your luteal phase. But when he just now texted you, about how you were doing this evening, he got a dry respond. He slightly got worried. He knew these days weren´t hard on you for no reason. You had been struggling with a lot of stuff. Stress at work, problems at home, seasonal depression, nostalgia problems, feeling the need to be more fit, but having zero to none motivation. And don´t even get me started on the anxiety. To sum it all up, there was just a lot on your plate. And even though normally your boyfriend knew exactly what you needed, even something small such as a big hug, he was clueless today. Usually you´d at least tell him. Or text him about your problems. He always knew what was up. But today, you didn´t tell him. No texts, no talking about it, no nothing. Even this morning when he left for work, he didn´t notice a single thing. Your walls were up pretty high, and he didn´t understood why you wouldn´t let him in. What changed? He decided to just ask. Cuz communication is key.

09:08 PM

He didn´t even wait for you to respond something, good or bad. He just wanted to come home. He wanted to be there for you, even if you happened to be fine. He told the guys he would finish his demo track tomorrow and he´d be heading out. And so he did.

09:24 PM

He walked in the hallway of the appartement, on his way to your frontdoor. He remembered you asked him if he wanted to text you when he was almost home. About to grab his phone, he noticed the front door was opened slightly. He looked confused. Was there a break in? Did someone hurt you? Did you simply didn´t click it closed well enough? His mind was making up all sorts of doom scenorios as he slowly walked in. Trying not to make too much noise. First he looked behind the door, and in the living room. Then the kitchen and the bathroom. No one. Y/n? I´m home. He didn´t get a response and his heart went more rapid. Y/n, my love? You home? Finally he walked into your bedroom. The only room with lights on. He opened the door slowly, wainting to meet you. But as he walked in...no one again. He got anxious and wanted to dial your phone number. Almost pressing the button, he heared a noise from the living room. It sounded like something being knocked over. Y/n? He called out again. Nothing....again. He walked over the the tv in the living room. If there is someone here come out now. I swear to god, you don´t wanna mess with me. He stated angrily. As he was looking around in the dark moonlit room, he noticed feet. Feet behind the couch. He walked over quickly, heart racing louder than ever. He finally met you.

Baby?! Is everything alright honey? Dropping to his knees, to see if you weren´t hurt or anything. You yelped, not expecting him to be home yet. You took out your ear buds. Baby? Why you home already, I thought you´d be home late, and you´d text me beforehand... Doesn´t matter. Why are you laying on the floor y/n? I called out many times...I was so fucking worried. And why was the door open? His voice was fuelled with a bit of anger, but only because he geniunly thought something bad might´ve happen to you. I´m sorry, I was listening to some music. I guess I forgot to close it when I got home. Please anwser me y/n... All you could get out your mouth was ´´sorry´´. Over and over again. You were sobbing as he looked at you confused, wanting to know what caused this specific way of acting. Sorry....sorry...sorry...sorry... Stop it baby, shushhh...come here it´s okay...shush...don´t cry my love. He pulled you close to him as he spoke softly. Everything is alright baby, I´m here now...shush...why are you crying? He stroked your hair calmly and gave you soft kisses on your face. Baby, look at me...talk to me. We always talk about everything that´s bothering us, right? Spit it out. I don´t want to bother you anymore. Hm? He looked confused again. I know, I have a lot of shit going on, and I´m not doing so well lately. But I´m sick of it. I´m sick of being this messed up. Baby, you´re not messed up... No, please let me finish. I love you so so so much Chris. But honestly, you deserve better. Better than having a girl to come home to everynight, who is full of problems, day after day. You kept sobbing as you spoke and he looked at you empathic, sad about the fact that you thought of yourself that way, and of you thinking he was bothered by it. Baby stop...just for a minute. Listen... You kept crying, but calmed down a bit as he started talking. I know baby...I know how messed up your life has felt lately. But you´re not messed up. You´re my favorite person. It kills me to see you in pain, ofcourse it does. But the second I come home and am able to make you smile. I live for that. I live for making you happy. I understand that that´s maybe not how you feel right now...I really get it...hormones and all. That made you laugh a bit. Look, I don´t know exactly what triggered your overthinking today. But no matter what happends, we´re always gonna be in this together, okay? I won´t leave you, no matter how hard it gets. And that goes both ways right? You also wouldn´t leave me when I am depressed or stressed and such. I´ve been there too, lots of times. But you´re always there for me. No matter what. I will always....always...be there for you too. Until we´re grey and old. Times are tough right now, but we will find our way. You don´t have to do this alone. You smiled soflty at him, so in love with the way he always talks to you. So, no matter what? No matter how shitty life hits me...You will love me? And stay with me? Always. You gave him a kiss. Both still sitting on the gound as he pulled you in top of him. Since I´m home early tonight..how bout a marathon and some hot choco? Can I pick the franchise? Please not twilight again... Twilight?! Well, if that makes you happy, let´s do it. With your still red teary eyes, you got up and happily went over to the couch. You smiled brightly, but your smile slowly faded as you saw the almost 27 year old man sigh and get up, fake crying as he obviously didn´t wanna watch these films again for the 100th time. You looked him in the eyes. He looked at you questionable. Fine, you know what, we can watch Deadpool & Wolverine again. Chris his eyes lit up. THERE ARE ONLY 206 BONES IN THE HUMAN BODY, 207 IF I´M WATCHI- You laughed out loud as he already started to narrate the movie which hadn´t even begun playing yet. You two always seemed to make each other happy in the end.

...Masterlist...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

© 2022-2024, smellslikechahnspirit • No posting on other sites or platforms, rewrites, or translations

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Bedeviled | Chapter 14: Always Faithful, Always Strong

Pairing: demon!jungkook x female reader

Genre: romance, angst, drama, horror

WC: 16.3k

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, anxiety, fear, mentions of blood and injuries, religious themes, mentions of past death and grief, tensionnnn, talk of loss of virginity, JK has mood issues, cruelty, insinuation of torture, betrayal...if there is anything i missed pls kindly let me know

Previous ML

The little angel holding your hand smiled excitedly at you. 

“See? It doesn’t hurt anymore,” she whispered. 

You nodded slowly, looking over at the taller figure beside the small angel. You couldn’t see their face due to the forest-green glow illuminating them from the inside out. Still, they felt so very familiar.

“Are you ready?”

You looked back at the small child when she spoke again, still grinning. Her smile was brighter than all the stars in the sky, the pale yellow wings on her back so tiny and fragile. 

Larger front teeth protruded slightly from her mouth, making her look like a rabbit. 

A very cute rabbit. 

You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face. 

Her sweet grin really did remind you of someone…

“Am I ready for what?” You asked, confused. Your mind was a little blank.

A tiny giggle that sounded like ringing bells fell from the child’s lips, “To go home.”

You blinked slowly. 

“Home?”

The ghost of the word left your mouth quietly in a single breath, full of a longing you’d never felt. 

“Mhm!” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

The grip on your hand tightened a little more. 

Turning your head, your brows furrowed when you saw someone lying in the bed you got out of. She was in a very worn-through white nightgown, her face drained of life as she lay there, a thin layer of sweat glistening on her splotchy face. She appeared to be in a deep sleep.

One she would not wake from. 

The rest of the shack was no livelier. There was a vase full of roses, but they were wilted beyond saving.

It was cold and dark. 

And lonely.

You turned back to the two beings and gave a small nod. 

“I’d like to go home.”

The little girl smiled giddily, then all you could see was white brightness closing in around you and a warmth that enveloped your cold body. 

Blue, pink, and purple lights appeared, surrounding you. Gold and silver swirled around in beautiful shapes. Colors you’d never seen before danced in your vision as the sound of beautiful music played, bringing a deep and wonderful ache into your heart.

Then everything was white again. 

You blinked hard a few times. 

Your heart stopped for a moment when you saw that you were surrounded by clouds. Looking down, you realized you were standing on one. 

Oh.

Oh my.

“____.”

The voice was that of a woman’s; deep but gentle, like a pool of warm chocolate. It brought a comfort so strong you felt your eyes water at just the single word. 

It came from the shining figure. 

The little angel was gone, only the tall being remained, standing in front of you. You still couldn’t see their face, but you were not afraid. You looked at them expectantly. 

“You suffered for a long time.”

A single unwitting tear fell from your eye at the unexpected words. It slid down your cheek and fell to the clouds underfoot. 

No one had ever spoken to you with such empathy in your entire existence; an empathy that reached deep into your soul where no other had touched.

You’d never felt more understood.

Then the feeling of grief washed over you. It was as if every painful thing that ever happened to you was consuming your mind and body in a matter of seconds, taking your breath away. Even though you couldn’t remember what exactly had happened before waking up in that room, you could feel every agonizing minute of it.

“You were alone for so long, scared for so many years, carrying it all on your own. Everything you gained along the way, you lost horribly by the end.”

You looked at the figure that was watching you closely and gulped, the pain not ceasing as you fell to your knees, unable to handle the agony surging through you. 

 “Was it worth it, ____?”

Tears fell from your eyes steadily as you held your heart, body shaking. 

Then you could see him: his sweet smile as he handed you an apple, the warmth of his hand that held yours, the big brown eyes that looked into your own with a comfort so strong it never failed to fix anything that was scaring you…his beautiful soul.

No matter how wretched it felt at times in that life, you were never alone.

A sob tore itself from your throat as you began to remember everything that you had forgotten at first. Everything that you had, no matter how fleeting, before it was ripped from you. 

You looked up at the figure that brought you to this place. 

“Yes,” you whispered.

Although you couldn’t see it, you felt the invisible person smile.

All at once, the pain was gone, replaced with a joy so breathtaking you knew you would do every single second of it again, even if you had been truly alone.

-

You walked along slowly, the invisible person at your right as the two of you strolled through the clouds. She was so tall that if you could see her clearly, you were sure the top of your head would only reach her elbow. 

“Why did you say I was alone most of my life?” You asked quietly, “If you already knew I wasn’t after meeting him.”

“Did the thought not cross your mind, ____?” The woman’s voice asked gently, “Were there not times you felt it was that way?”

You gulped, then gave a small nod, “At the hardest times…I suppose I did, yes.”

“That is why I phrased it that way. That thought, that doubt, was always there; lingering in the back of your mind. No, you didn’t think he wasn’t there for you. But on those dark nights without him there, it would come back. That anger of what was happening to you would come back, wouldn’t it?”

You nodded slowly. 

“You needed to answer the question with that present. You needed to realize the truth yourself in the face of that despair.”

“Oh. That makes sense.”

They nodded and you two fell into silence once more.

“Where are we going?” You asked, watching your feet disappear into clouds impossibly soft but still strong enough to hold you up. 

You had always dreamed of being in the clouds. It was so much more than you had ever imagined.

“We’re going home.”

You hummed in response, then spoke up again, “Why did I forget everything for a little bit? How could I have forgotten him?” 

“Do not blame yourself. It can happen at times, when someone passes. Especially if that person passed in a traumatic way. Those that do, tend to forget briefly who they were or where they came from. But it comes back rather quickly.”

“Oh…where did she go?” You whispered after a moment of contemplating, “The little angel.”

“You will see her again,” There was a gentle amusement in the being’s tone as she continued to walk beside you. You had a feeling she was more amused by your incessant questions than irritated.

“Oh, good.”

As you walked, you suddenly saw a huge golden gate ahead, appearing from the clouds. 

“Is this home?” You asked breathlessly, stopping in front of the magnificent structure. You weren’t sure what was beyond them, but something was pulling you there, tugging gently at your heart. 

“It is.”

You just knew that the moment you stepped through those gates, you would never feel out of place again. 

Someone was waiting inside for you. 

They had waited a very long time. 

There, you would belong. 

“Can I go in?”

“You can. Before you do, there is one more thing.”

__________________________________

“I’m letting you out of the deal.”

You feel your heart stop in your chest at his words, then tears spring to your eyes. You shake your head and pull back, not missing the way he reluctantly lets go of you. 

“No.”

“What?” His brows scrunch and he takes a step towards you as you move back even more, wincing at the pain when you walk. 

“I don’t want out-”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” He snaps, “Because you can’t stop thinking about him. Just stop for a moment and think!!”

You shake your head but he steps closer, an angry yet desperate look on his face. 

“If you refuse me now, I won’t give you another chance.”

“I know.”

“Are you fucking insane?” He looks at you in disbelief, “Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into by agreeing to this?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you so in love with him?! Why can’t you see what’s happening?” His eyes are wild with rage, “You are damning yourself to He-”

“What if I stay?”

You see the look of shock flash over his face as he takes a step back, going from one hundred to zero in a millisecond.

“You-...what?”

You swallow, feeling very small and unsure right now. 

“You want me to stay, don’t you?”

The demon blinks a few times. 

If you stay, it will be horrendous for you. It will be painful and wretched and nothing will ever make it better. But he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t tell you that. 

He’s selfish. 

And he wants you to stay, no matter what it might do to you. 

If you go through all of this just for some idiot mortal boy, he wants no part of it. But if you stay for him…

If one thing is true, it is that misery so very much loves company. 

You see one of his black brows raise slightly, as if you’ve gotten his attention. 

Taking a deep breath, you stay strong. 

Although it was a rash decision to use those words driven by exhaustion and panic, you knew you could buy time, that he would take it, that he would consider it.

What else could you expect from a demon?

“You don’t want him anymore?”

The way he says ‘him’ is bitter. Jealousy and rage crammed into that one small word.

You eye him carefully, “We still need to go through with the deal. We don’t stop here.”

He glares at you, “Why.”

“I came here to get something. I want to finish what I started. I won’t just toss it all out the window now.”

JK grinds his teeth for a moment, trying not to get angry. 

“Fine,” he eventually spits, “You’ll get the Flame, if that’s what you’re so fucking obsessed with.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice breaking a little. 

He rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh, “Your stupid little friend apparently doesn’t have a lot of time to become immortal. Let’s just keep going.”

You nod, following as he starts off. Almost immediately, you notice him slowing to keep pace with you as you limp slowly. He doesn’t talk much at first and you get the sense that he’s embarrassed for exposing himself like he did. The fact that he wants you to stay, no matter how selfish the intentions are…it means there’s something there.

Not long after walking again, though, he starts to talk. 

“Why ‘Apple’?”

“I like apples.”

“Oh.”

Only a second passes before the next question. 

“What made you decide to wear a dress? It’s not a very practical decision when one is planning to get the Flame of Immortality from the center of Hell.”

“I like dresses,” your voice cracks a little and you swallow, rubbing your throat with your hand gently. 

He rolls his eyes. 

“Well…is white your favorite color to wear then? Or brown…?”

You look sideways at him suspiciously but answer slowly anyway, “Umm…they’re some of my favorites, yeah.”

“What are your other favorites-”

He stops speaking and comes to a halt when you turn to him, badly scraped hands moving to your hips. 

“Why are you asking me all these-...innocent questions?”

“What? You’d rather I ask something else?” He snaps, handsome face set in an annoyed scowl.

“Well, no-”

“Are you a virgin?”

You take a step back, looking at him with an appalled expression. 

He only smirks. 

“You got pissy when I asked questions I thought suited you. Figured I’d try something different.”

“Yellow and pink…and blue.”

You ignore the confusion written all over his face as you walk around him and keep hobbling along. 

The sores on your hands and feet are extremely irritated and sore, the ones in your mouth a little less so. There’s still dried blood on the corners of your mouth and your bones ache so deeply you could curl into a ball on the ground and be fine with never moving again. The pain in your stomach lingers, but is nothing compared to when you were in the eighth circle. You still refuse to look at the wound on your right ankle from when the old man covered in flames grabbed you. It’s painful enough without getting a mental picture that will probably make it worse.

Overall, everything hurts. Your body continues to grow weaker simply being in Hell, steadily shutting down by the hour. 

But you can certainly manage. 

You have to. 

“What the hell does that even mean?”

You bite your tongue as he jogs over to keep in step with you again.

“You asked what my favorite colors are to wear.”

He groans loudly next to you, “I don’t know why I keep forgetting how fucking annoying you are.”

“Aw, that’s sweet, JK.”

“Shuddup.”

You chuckle quietly, gnawing gently on your tender bottom lip as you keep your eyes forward, a million thoughts swarming your brain. 

“What’s your favorite color to wear?” You ask as you glance at him teasingly, “Black? How original.”

He sneers at you, “Wow, you’re so fucking funny. You should be a comedian.”

“I might just do that.”

“What do you do, anyway?” He slows down a little more to stay alongside you after unconsciously walking faster. He can’t help it, with legs as long as his it’s second nature, “You said you’re nineteen. School? Work?”

“Mm, neither.”

“Neither?”

“Well, work I guess.”

“You guess.”

“Mhm,” You pick at the blood under your fingernails. 

“Care to elaborate?” 

He sounds annoyed with needing to ask for further details. 

“No, not really.”

He bites his tongue before he gets the chance to snap at you. 

“Ok, fine,” He says slowly, controlled, “You kind of work.”

You hide the smile creeping up on you. 

“So you’ve never really had any hopes for the future?”

“I didn’t say that,” You correct him calmly. 

“Well you sure as hell aren’t convincing me otherwise.”

You look at him as you walk, “Why should I need to convince anyone but myself?”

“I-” He stares at you for a second, “Never mind.”

It’s not even quiet for thirty seconds before his next wave of probing comes.

“Why apples, though? Pears are better than apples.”

A lump forms in your throat and you have to mentally push the memories out of your mind. Memories of him always preferring pears over any fruit. 

“Because Pear would be a stupid name.”

He chuckles, taking you by surprise. 

“Well,” You hum, “Pear is actually pretty cute now that I think about it.”

“Whatever you say, mortal.”

“It’s Apple.”

“I’m not calling you Apple.”

“Well then I’ll just call you Pear-”

“You absolutely will not.”

You scowl at him. 

“I’ll do whatever I want.”

“Yeah?” He snags your arm, making you stop and pulling you to him at the same time, a dangerously flirty smirk on his face, “Is that supposed to scare me, Apple?”

Your heart lurches and your mouth feels dry.

He leans closer, “Go ahead and do what you want, I’ve nothing against that.”

You try to scoff but it doesn’t come out very strong so it kind of just sounds like you choke. 

“I-I…I-”

“Y-y-you what?” The smirk is still on his face, mischief lighting up his dark eyes. 

You try your best to glare at him, but it doesn’t seem to deter him at all. 

He just leans in again, “If you stay,” his lips are close to your ear as cold breath sends tingles down your spine, “We could cause all sorts of trouble, Apple girl.”

You’re beginning to second guess your judgment of telling him that name.

It’s not the same as him saying it. It hurts a lot more than when he said it. It’s his voice, his face, his eyes that look into yours as it’s whispered. 

But it’s not the same. 

It used to be filled with so much love. 

Now it’s tainted with a shadowy wickedness whispering behind it. But after not hearing it from his lips for five hundred years, it still makes your heart race. 

“I get the impression you cause enough trouble on your own,” you whisper, pulling back and looking at him. 

“You’d be right,” he chuckles darkly, also pulling away. 

Your eyes fall away from his piercing gaze, looking over his shoulder. 

He snaps out of the trance he was in as he looked at you when you point over his shoulder and ask, “What’s that?”

JK turns to see a gnarled mountain in the distance that’s smaller than the others, right in the middle of the barren wasteland; the bottom thick and the top coming to a sharp point. 

“Ah,” he tilts his head and stretches his neck both ways, “You’ll see later.”

You give him a look but don’t bother responding. 

It feels like you can finally breathe when he steps away.You don’t understand how he can so easily flit from one emotion to the next. He’s acting like he didn’t just bare his entire soul to you when he offered to let you go not even that long ago. 

“You never answered my question,” He says as he starts to walk, once again matching your speed, or lack thereof. 

“Which one?”

“I think you know which one.”

Your cheeks heat involuntarily and you clear your throat. 

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s none of your business!”

“I think you’re embarrassed.”

“And why would I be?” You ask. 

“Because you’re definitely a virgin.”

You scoff loudly, “If I am or I’m not, neither of them would make me embarrassed. I have no reason to be ashamed either way.”

“That’s exactly what a virgin would say.”

“Shut up!” You grumble, “If you want to know so bad then you have to answer a question of mine.”

“Fire away.”

“Just like that?” You look at him in disbelief, “After all this time and all the trouble you’ve given me, you’ll answer anything just to know if I’m a virgin?”

He shrugs, “I’m curious.”

You mutter in annoyance to yourself for a moment, then you look at him. 

“What’s with the tattoos? Why are two colored and the rest not?”

“I don’t know.”

“I-” You glare fiercely at him, “Tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

You stop walking, which makes him stop to look at you. 

“So, let me get this straight,” You say calmly, scratched up and bruised hands folded nicely in front of you, “It has been however long…I have answered many of your questions, and you have avoided almost every single one of mine.”

“And?”

“And you acted like it was some huge deal that you would only tell me in exchange for something equally as big, and yet you don’t even know the answer yourself.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

You wouldn’t be surprised if he could see steam billowing out from your ears. 

“You’re so- so exasperating!!”

He laughs at the fact that that’s the best insult you could come up with in your state of enraged shock. 

“Technically I never said I knew.”

“Agh!” You throw your hands up in the air before pointing a finger in his face and standing up on your tiptoes to get closer, “I’m never telling you if I’m a virgin or not! Never!” Then you hurry around him and start marching away. You hear him laughing behind you, then the sound of him running to catch up with you. 

“You’re so naive.”

“Don’t talk to me.”

He grins annoyingly, shaking his head, “Such a grouch.”

“I’ll show you a grouch in a minute if you don’t let me calm down.”

He puts his hands up in defense, “Damn, ok.”

Your face feels hot with anger, your cheeks undoubtedly red with the blood that’s rushed there. 

Cool air would be nice right about now, but that’s a joke to even think about. Fanning with your hands does absolutely nothing. In fact, it might be making it worse. 

You drop your hands to your side and sigh. 

It’s no use being so angry. Him not knowing is technically an answer in itself. That’s what you wanted to know anyway, with several things. 

Back when you first got here, he spoke as if he was a demon since the fall of the angels, that he was one of them, that he chose it. 

Clearly his memories are not only gone, but corrupted into a false story that he believes is true though there are gaps in it that confuse even him. Like the fire, and the tattoos, and probably several other things; like the handkerchief in his pocket that he gave you when your eyes were burning. The one that looked like his mother’s…

She used to carry soft cream-colored ones around everywhere, and gave some to him. 

That’s what he used to bandage your ankle when you were young.

What would his answer be if you asked him about that handkerchief?

You gulp.

He’s confused when you ask certain questions like that, you can tell. And confusion is the first step, as long as the timing is right.

Your breathing has calmed considerably and the anger has dissipated when he speaks up again. 

“Are you calm now?”

“Yes,” you laugh quietly. 

“You can have another go, if it’s made you that upset.”

“You must seriously want to know if I’ve done it, nothing ever makes you this generous…I’m not upset anymore, I do have a question though, that I’d like to be answered.”

“Go ahead.”

“I’ll answer yours first.”

“Ok.”

You nibble your bottom lip, your cheeks flushing for a reason entirely different from anger now. 

“I’m not a virgin.”

“Oh...wow.”

You turn your head to see that he looks genuinely surprised as he stares at you while you walk. 

“Why does that shock you so much?” You chuckle. 

“It’s just-” He shakes his head, “You’re so pure, it-”

“I’m pure?”

When his eyes lift to yours again, he sees a teasing smile on your face.

“Two questions,” You hold up two fingers. 

He nods, apparently shocked into temporary silence. 

“One: how do you know that I’m pure? And two: who says that not being a virgin would take that away?”

He scoffs, “Isn’t it obvious? I can see your soul, mortal. All demons can see the state of someone’s soul. It’s how they know their weak points, how easy they are to break.”

The demon stops and turns to you then, a look in his eyes that you don’t understand. 

“How valuable they are to them.”

One of your brows lifts, “Ah, I see. And why would I be any less pure without being a virgin?”

“Your innocence would be gone.”

“And?” You look him dead in the eye, “Is my innocence gone?”

The way he stares at you makes you feel exposed, as if he’s peeled away your skin and can see right through you, into the deepest parts of your being. He is quite literally staring into your soul. 

“No,” he whispers, his voice sounding confused at this revelation. 

“Didn’t He make it for the human race as a gift?”

“I mean…I suppose, but-”

“And if I didn’t abuse it, if I used the gift as it was meant to be used, did I not do what He had intended for me?”

The demon swallows, confusion thick in the air as he stares at you, extremely unsure of everything he thought he knew.

“The act itself is not sinful,” you whisper, watching all the emotions flitting across his face as he tries to figure it out, “The intentions and circumstances behind it? They certainly can be.”

He says nothing, thoroughly befuddled in every sense of the word. 

“I think innocence comes in many forms. I am far from perfect, but I do know that I did no wrong when it came to losing my virginity.”

“Oh.” Is all he’s able to come up with. 

After another minute of him working through things in his brain, he clears his throat. 

“So this…this best friend of yours…is he-?”

“Is he the one that I shared myself with?”

He nods, uncertainty still clear on his face. 

How strange it is to be informing him that you are not a virgin when he himself is the only one you had ever been with.

“Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.”

You step closer, eyes not leaving his, “You said demons know when souls are valuable to them.”

He nods, but says nothing. 

“And?” You take another step towards him, as if offering for him to look again, “How valuable is my soul to you?”

“Any demon would stop at nothing to take your soul.”

“I’m not interested in just any demon,” you whisper, “I want to know how valuable it is to you. That’s my question, that’s what I want you to tell me. You didn’t answer me before, when I asked you how you felt.”

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t. Not really.”

“I told you,” he grits out as you step ever closer, “I can’t.”

“If I am so valuable to Hell’s collection of souls, how could you offer to free me? How valuable can I possibly be if you’re willing to let me keep my soul?”

JK gulps, pursing his lips. 

“How can a demon let go of a soul that any other would stop at nothing to take?” You whisper, eyes searching his, pushing just a little more. 

“Stop.”

“You said you would answer me.”

His eyes fall from yours. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why did you offer to let me leave?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” he hisses, “You refused, and I told you, I will not offer it again.”

“Then why offer it in the first place?”

You gulp when his eyes raise to yours again, anger and something else there, something you’ve seen flash through them before, but very rarely.

You realize with a jolt to your heart what it is. 

Sorrow.

“You want to know how valuable your soul is to me?” He glares at you, stepping closer until you can feel his cold breath on your cheeks, “I would do anything to rip it straight out of you. Anything.”

You blink rapidly, holding back the tears that are threatening to come. 

“I would risk losing hundreds of other souls just to have this one.”

A cold finger runs along your chest, stopping right in the middle and not moving.

“How valuable are you to me…?” A painful ache surges through you at his slight change of words 

“So valuable-” His voice drops below a whisper, “That I would’ve let.. you.. go..”

Your heart is hammering in your chest and you know he can feel it. 

“JK…”

You don’t finish your sentence and he says nothing to fill the quiet. That’s when something else hits you. 

Tears spring to your eyes at the realization. 

“You-...” 

His eyes stay locked on yours. 

“You kept talking earlier, asking silly things,” you mumble tearfully, sniffling, “Because you knew I didn’t like it to be quiet.”

His following silence is answer enough. 

“I can’t,” is all he says after a minute. 

You nod slowly, his previous words floating through your mind. 

‘I can’t…love you.’

He can’t love you, but he can let you go; that’s all he knows how to do.

You bite your bottom lip harshly, the stinging pain a welcome distraction from the one on the inside. After a moment to gather yourself, you nod again, not looking directly at him as he watches you with a look so unlike this version of him you don’t think you can handle it. 

Then you raise yourself up, just enough to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. 

As you’re lowering yourself back down, you stop at the feeling of his hand on your cheek, though you keep your eyes downcast.

I’m sorry, Jungkook. 

That you had to be alone for so long, that you had to wait for me, until I could come to you. 

I am so sorry.

“Hey.”

You finally look at him at the light tone of his voice.

“We’ll be at the ninth circle before too long, you can’t grow soft on me now,” he smirks gently at you, “What happened to that feisty little attitude of yours, little mortal?”

You swallow the tears building up in your throat, bottling them up and putting a cap on it.

You will not fail, ____. 

Do not doubt yourself so. 

Nodding slowly, you swallow again, biting your lip as hard as you can handle. 

“I think I’m tired,” you croak, dropping your gaze to the ground between you. 

His boots are still sleek and shiny, completely flawless. The laces going up his shins look brand new, not a fray to be seen. The contrast to your beaten and bloody feet wrapped in torn black silk from his shirt is almost comical. 

“Only now?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

You breathe out a tiny laugh, “Yeah, didn’t really hit until now.”

“Ah.”

You rub your eyes, fighting the yawn creeping up on you. 

“Let’s not talk about it,” you mumble, “It’s making me more tired.”

The sound of gravel moving makes you look at him as he turns to keep walking, granting your wish without a single protest. 

“Come on,” he calls out without facing you, “If you fall asleep standing there I’m not carrying you.”

You follow slowly, your brain spinning in circles as you try to stay calm. 

______________________________

“Can I go in?”

“You can. Before you do, there is one more thing.”

“What is it?”

“If you had the choice, would you like to become an angel?”

“I don’t understand,” You stared at the being that brought you to the golden gate in the clouds, brows furrowed in confusion at what they just said, “So…everyone that comes here is an angel…?”

Just like before, you felt her smile, even though you couldn’t see it, “Not everyone, no. The little ones that pass away in the womb become angels,” her voice was still so gentle and deep, it brought a wave of comfort over you just hearing it, “And some that were born and have lived a life worthy of it. Do not worry, everyone else that comes here is joyous regardless.”

‘The little ones that pass away in the womb become angels.’ 

Your heart stuttered in your chest when you thought of the little angel.

Could it really have been…?

Before you could break down into sobs and start begging to see the child, you cleared your throat, knowing the time would come to see her again. “And you…are you an angel?”

“I am.”

“Were you a human once?”

“No,” The voice had a distinct smile in it, “I was always your angel.”

“My angel?” You asked in astonishment.

“Yes.”

“What-” You shook your head to clear it, “What does that mean?”

Instead of getting an answer with words, you suddenly felt a strange pull in your chest. Then the being was gone and you were in your beloved forest, the breeze blowing the leaves gently. You turned this way and that, beyond confused. 

“How-”

You got cut off by the sound of a tiny giggle. Turning in alarm, you froze at the sight of a small child on the ground by the apple tree, her back leaning against it as she played in the grass with her feet.

You, it was you…at four years old…

Taking a step closer to the small version of you, the grass soft beneath your feet, you sucked in a breath when you saw someone else there too, a warm smile on their face as they watched you laugh. 

It was a woman who looked no older than twenty-five, but with an ancient wisdom in her emerald green eyes. She wore a dress of dark green that matched the deepest parts of the forest. Over it were thin plates of armor, a slender sword with a verdant hilt at her side. On her back were large wings that looked like a bird’s; the color of a sunlit field. One of the wings was wrapping around your small figure protectively.

Her hair was blonde, but looked to have hints of leaf green in it as well. 

The angel’s beauty was unmatched; you had never even imagined someone could be so utterly breathtaking. She truly looked like an otherworldly being that had come from the forest itself. 

There was a soft green glow about her as she placed a gentle hand on your head right after a bright red apple had bonked it harshly.

Her head turned at the same moment as your tiny one, looking at the fruit laying on the ground. 

As little you stared at it in bewilderment, the angel looked up and a smile graced her elegant features.

You watched yourself reach for the apple, then you noticed the woman looking up into the tree and laughing delightedly. So, you looked up to see what she was watching. 

Heart flying to your throat, you took a step back when you saw him. 

The small boy with dark hair and eyes that were wide as he looked down at the child he accidentally dropped an apple on. He scrambled down the tree quickly to apologize. 

All of the figures began to shimmer before disappearing, despite your sudden cry for them not to go. 

You gulped and pressed a hand to your forehead as another scene unfolded in front of you. 

The river was there, just ahead. Cold water rushed by, higher than it usually was. After only a moment, you realized what day you were looking back on. Seconds later, you saw two children running over to the river and laughing. 

The little girl said something you couldn’t hear as the boy bent down to pick up a pretty rock. In the next instant, the girl ran into the water. It was swift as it took her off her feet immediately. 

The boy looked up, then dropped the rock and leapt into the water to save the younger child. 

You watched in horror as he screamed for her, swimming as best as he could. 

But his arms were too small and the current was too strong. 

You couldn’t even see the girl anymore, she was gone, dragged under the surface. 

Then you saw the woman again. 

She was on the riverbank, tall and beautiful as always. She reached a hand down into the river and grabbed hold of something before pulling it up effortlessly. 

You saw your own little hand come out of the water as she pulled you out, then your head broke the surface. You gasped and looked around before seeing your best friend holding on to the rose bush. 

It was her…

That was the only thought in your head as the scene changed yet again.

You were back in the forest, by the apple tree. This time, you were watching yourself at fifteen as you cried your heart out after finding out that you were to marry Hoseok and your mother had hurled horrid insults at you. 

“Why me?!” You heard yourself scream at the top of your lungs into the grass, throat burning and heart pounding painfully in your ears.

The angel was there on the ground beside you, bent over in order to have an arm and a wing around you in a warm embrace. You noticed with a hitch in your breath that she was crying too, crystal tears dripping down her porcelain skin and falling to the forest floor as she stroked your hair ever so gently. 

She was whispering words of encouragement and reassurance in your ear even if you couldn’t hear it at the time. 

Once again, the two figures weeping on the forest floor shimmered and disappeared. They were replaced with quick flashes of your life running across your vision, the angel always there; a warm proud smile on her face when you were kind or shining tears drenching her cheeks as you lay sobbing in your mother-in-law’s house after losing your child. 

Then it was all gone. 

You were once again surrounded by white clouds, the giant golden gate looming in front of you. 

But this time, the being was no longer hidden from your view. 

The woman from the visions stood in front of you, a soft knowing smile on her pretty lips. 

If possible, she looked even more magnificent than in the memories. 

She was twice your height, dressed in that beautiful green gown, the armor shining brilliantly and the sword safe at her side. 

You gawked wordlessly at the huge wings behind her. 

“Y-”

You gulped, shocked into speechlessness. 

Her smile grew warmer at the look on your face. 

Finally, you found the words. 

“The invisible person,” you breathed, “That was you?”

Her head dipped slightly in confirmation. 

All the times you ever felt scared, felt unsafe in any way, all the nights you couldn’t sleep thinking of the ghost in the forest…all of it seemed so silly then. With the angelic warrior walking beside you during every step in life, nothing was ever going to hurt you.

You blinked owlishly. “You…how are you my angel?” Was all you could think to say.

Her laughter was like waves crashing against the golden shore. 

“There are many different angels. I am a guardian and I was tasked with keeping watch over you. Guardians have always been angels, from the beginning of time.”

“But…why me?”

“Everyone has a guardian angel,” she explained softly, “Most of them don’t know it until the end. When the Creator made me, He showed me some of your life. He asked me if I would love and protect you. I said yes. Until you were conceived, I simply waited.”

Your heart burst in your chest. 

The angel’s first choice…was to love you?

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. 

“Why don’t some people ever know of their angel until they die?” You whispered sadly. 

She leaned down, blonde locks tinted with green falling over her shoulders. 

“There are many forces at work in the world, ____. So very many of them with wicked intentions and a desire to wreak havoc and despair. They try their best to be the loudest. Sin is attractive, until you see its truest form.”

You gulped, “I didn’t know of you though, yet I still felt you there. Do others not?”

Your angel nodded sadly.

“Why?”

The look in her eyes was so vivid, it felt as though you were looking through each and every moment in history, every little thing she ever saw…Your heart ached deeply in your chest at her next words. 

“Because mankind is lost,” she whispered lowly, “And has very much forgotten how to listen.”

_____________________________________________

The exhaustion is heavy on your shoulders. 

Your eyelids feel like they’re being weighed down with hundred pound weights. But still you walk, dragging one foot after another, again and again. Steps eventually turn into miles. The scenery never changes. 

JK walks beside you, but neither of you speaks very much. Every once in a while, you’ll mention something about how long this stretch is and how hot it is, and he’ll mumble an agreement. 

It’s maddening that you can’t keep him in a certain state for long. He was opening up, he was softening even if just a little. The second the moment passes though, he clams right back up. 

It happened when he offered to let you go, it happened when you spoke by the fire, it happened when you asked him about the value of your soul to him. 

It has happened multiple times. 

And yet each time it passes, he is no sooner retreating into his shell and pretending like it never happened in the first place. 

The only thing keeping your spirits up at this point, is reminding yourself that if it wasn’t getting anywhere, he wouldn’t have softened even for a moment. 

None of this is futile. 

It is slow and it is painful. 

But it is not futile. 

Your stomach turns when you suddenly remember the voice. 

The one that came back when you saw JK’s true form, that mocked him and delighted in his agony. It said something. 

“This is my territory, little angel…you get out.”

He knows you’re here, and that you are not a mere mortal. 

A sickening pit forms in your stomach. You don’t know what will come of it. But one thing is for sure; you have even less time than you thought. 

“Back at the shed.”

You jump a little at the sound of his voice, but recover quickly and look at him as you continue to make your slow trek towards the oddly shaped mountain all alone in the middle of the wasteland. 

“Hm?”

You watch him as he stares into the distance ahead, a small frown on his face. 

“You said it was my fault.”

“Huh?” Your voice is weak. 

You know exactly what he’s referring to, but you need time to think of an excuse. 

“When you were losing your shit,” he speaks calmly, not a hint of anything but curiosity in his tone, “You said that it was all my fault.”

“W-Well, yeah,” you try to scoff, but it still shows the anxiety consuming you, “I was delirious from exhaustion and not to mention the unbearable heat. I mean come on, out here is bad enough, but in that circle-”

“Stop lying.”

You gulp, glancing at him briefly as you try not to stop the rhythm of your walk. 

“I was exhausted and overheated,” you mumble quietly. 

Technically you were, so that isn’t really a lie. 

He sighs, “I suppose I brought this upon myself.”

“What?”

“I should’ve known that sooner or later you would refuse to answer my questions as I have yours,” he shakes his head, an annoyed smile on his face. 

“I mean,” you laugh lightly, “It took me long enough to stop offering answers so freely.”

“Why did you? Before.”

“I don’t know,” you say softly, staring at a black cloud in the sky, “I think maybe I wanted to tell you, as unwise as it seemed at times.”

He doesn’t answer, but he does look at you closely as you walk. 

“Have you never felt that way?” You whisper, still not looking away from that little cloud up there in the bloodstained sky, “Have you never felt so burdened with secrets and struggles that you felt such an urge to just let it out? To let it out to whoever gave you that chance, even if you knew that they would hurt you in the end…”

He blinks slowly, “That sounds like a burdensome way to live.”

“Oh it is,” you say softly as you drag your eyes away from the cloud and over to him. 

“That’s why you offered things up so freely. Why you kept wanting to exchange information.”

“I suppose that’s one reason.” A sad laugh huffs from your lips. 

“What’re the other reasons?”

“There you go again,” you look at him with a playful glare, “Tempting me to say all my secrets, just for a second of fresh air to breathe because I won’t be the only one holding them.”

He shakes his head, “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Oh? And what are you doing, demon?”

He feels a strange unpleasant thud in his chest when you call him that. You’d been calling him by his name for so long now he had gotten almost used to it. 

When he looks at you, he can see something different in your eyes. Something subtle but calculating. It’s a very careful look as you watch him, as if waiting to see what he’ll do, waiting to see the reaction you’ll get from him.

You know something that he doesn’t. 

A foreign chill runs down his spine, startling him. You are a lot smarter than he’s given you credit for. A split second passes where he’s full of an uncomfortable thought that perhaps he’s never had the upper hand. 

Perhaps everything has been on your terms. 

A pit forms in his stomach when you begin to look different. Your hair doesn’t appear quite as tangled, nor does it look dirty. It tumbles down your shoulders in soft waves. The dress and cardigan you wear are not torn or messy with mud and other unsavory things.

As he stares into your eyes, there’s a very subtle color change in them. As if someone was standing behind him and flashed a bright golden light into your eyes for only a second. 

Then it all fades away and he sees just you looking at him expectantly. 

Just messy little you.

You look the same as you always have, only just a little confused now at his long stretch of silence. You don’t seem aware at all that he was quite literally seeing you in a different light momentarily. 

“JK?” Your voice is soft, “Are you okay?”

“What?” He chokes out, voice thick with confusion and maybe just a little fear.

“You look like you just saw a ghost,” you giggle at the silly term down here and with a demon no less.

“Why did you call me that?”

“Huh?” You step closer, confused by his question. 

“Why did you call me demon?”

“Did I?” Your brows furrow and you cock your head to the side, “I don’t think I did, though.”

“You did,” his voice comes out harsher than he intended.

“Oh,” you watch him closely, bewildered at his behavior, “Well, I’m sorry if I did. I wouldn’t have thought you’d mind if I did anyway, though.”

“I-” JK clears his throat, “I don’t. It just confused me for a second.”

“Oh…okay.”

Awkward silence falls between you two, then you nod slowly and turn to keep walking. 

You’re not sure what just happened, but whatever it was, it rattled him quite a bit. 

It takes a moment before you hear him start walking behind you. 

“I shared because I thought you might share as well,” you call to him, “Nothing about you makes sense. You know that, right?”

“You’re the one that doesn’t make sense,” he scoffs, but jogs to catch up to you anyway. 

“Look at us,” you gesture your arms out weakly, “What a pair we make. Nothing about us makes sense!”

He chuckles as you smile.

“Speak for yourself,” he nudges you in the arm as you walk, which makes you smile harder. 

Maybe you can get that shell to crack again after all. 

-

It took less time than you thought it would to get to the lone mountain. You look at it in confusion, head tilted back to see as high up as you can. “That took forever…it looked further away,” you mumble. 

“When are you going to learn that nothing here is made to make sense?” JK looks up at it alongside you, “If it makes sense, you’re comfortable. You’re not supposed to be comfortable here.”

You turn to him, “Since you’re being somewhat honest right now, I’ve been curious about something for a long while.”

“Mm?” He doesn’t seem to be paying attention to you, his gaze directed towards the bent and twisted vines that cover the small mountain, all the way up to the top. 

You two are around a hundred feet away, but you can see the dead climbing plants clearly. Part of you wonders if those are also snakes, like the ones at the entrance to the fourth circle. 

The memory of that feels so old, like you had given your shoes up and had been walking on bare feet through Hell for years. It makes you feel strange, and unsettlingly confused. 

“When I first got here,” you speak a little louder, relieved when he turns to you, “There was something I noticed that you did.”

“And what was that?” He whispers, subtle mischief reflecting in his dark eyes. 

“Before we even got to the entrance, when we first spoke,” you keep your eyes on his face, watching for a hint of anything other than the bored expression now painting it, “You referred to it as the Underworld. Only after we passed through the gate-...”

There it is. 

You see a flicker of something in his gaze. Swallowing thickly, you quietly finish what you were saying. 

“Only after we passed through the gate did you call it Hell.”

You’re surprised to see a smirk spread on his face. 

“Here I thought you were too daft to catch on to that, and yet you knew the whole time. I’m surprised, little mortal.”

You look indignant at that, but he doesn’t stop. 

“Most humans don’t catch it consciously. Only in their subconscious do they realize how much more uncomfortable it feels to hear the word Hell.”

He whispers that last word as he leans closer, as if the term itself is dirty and he finds pleasure in seeing you squirm because of it. 

You gulp but hold your ground as he moves even closer. 

“I won’t tell you,” he whispers. 

You’re about to protest but he startles you by placing a cold finger to your lips, effectively shutting you up. 

“I won’t tell you,” he says again, staring into your eyes, “Because you’re a smart girl.”

Grinding your teeth, you force yourself not to pay any attention to the feeling in your lower stomach. 

“Aren’t you, Apple?” He asks innocently, the look in his eyes showing the true delight he feels making you twitch, “Tell me that you’re a smart girl.”

One of your brows raises and you purse your lips. 

He’s really pushing it, and he knows that. 

“I also have dignity,” you whisper back. 

If anything his smirk grows.He finds it amusing when you snap back at him. 

“You didn’t say Hell because you wanted to be sure I’d follow you,” you keep eye contact with him, “Make it sound less than it is until it’s too late, right? Underworld sounds far less intimidating, less of a chance for the turning back of a potential soul for you to steal.”

“I don’t steal anything,” he hisses, “I told you that.” 

The staredown lasts another ten seconds before he speaks again, voice a bit strained from trying to reign in his irritation at your accusation. 

“See? I knew you were smarter than you let on. Why bother asking all these silly little questions if you already know the answer to them?”

“I wanted you to confirm it.”

“And?” He seems to have gathered himself again, “Has it been confirmed enough for you?”

One of his black brows raises as he clenches his jaw. 

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, can we move on, or would you like to stand here and spew more nonsense?”

You shake your head, eyes drifting back over to the gnarled mountain. 

“We can go.”

“Splendid.”

The demon turns on his heel and all but marches angrily towards your next destination. 

You sigh, then do your best to pick up your pace in order to keep up with him. 

“Does it annoy you that I talk a lot and ask questions that seem useless to you, or does it annoy you that I know more than those you typically deal with?”

“Both, little mortal,” he snaps, “Fucking both.”

You stumble to a stop and wince when he halts suddenly, looking up at the looming form of nature in front of you. 

A pit forms in your tummy when you see the vines ever so slightly writhe under your careful observation. 

Great. More snakes. 

A shaky sigh leaves your mouth, “Is this the ninth circle?”

“No.”

“Oh…what is it?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” JK mumbles, then turns to walk away, “We need to go around it, not through it.”

“Wait!” You call out before he can get too far, relieved when he stops. He says nothing though, just stands there. 

“I-” You clear your throat, “I think we should go in.”

“Why?” He scoffs, turning to look at you with an irritated glare. 

“I don’t know,” your voice breaks, betraying you, “I’m…curious?”

“You’re curious?”

You nod.

He stares at you in disbelief. 

“Are you fucking serious?”

When you don’t say anything, he turns the rest of his body, hip tilted and arms crossing over his chest, biceps bulging slightly at the action. 

“You’re telling me that you want to waste more time by looking inside of a useless fucking mountain?” His glare narrows even more, “We’re almost to the ninth circle. It isn’t far from there that your stupid Flame is waiting. Why do you suddenly have time to tour every fucking corner of Hell?”

You glance back at the mountain helplessly; you have to get in there. It might be exactly what you need. 

“Aren’t we just wasting more time standing here arguing?” You ask breathlessly, anxiety clear in your shaking voice, “Just- show me what’s inside and we can keep going-”

“Fine,” he growls, stomping over and grabbing one of the vines. 

You audibly gasp as he grips it harshly, ignoring the loud hissing before he tears it from the handle of a wooden door. The demon tosses it carelessly to the ground, where it slowly slithers away. You hadn’t even seen the door there, you’re absolutely sure it was only rock just moments before. 

The hissing grows louder and you step back, watching in disgust as the vines wriggle and slither off of the door that becomes ever more visible the more they flee. Soon enough, the ancient mahogany door is clear of the snake vines. JK grabs the handle and yanks it open. Dust falls from around the doorway. 

You stare wordlessly into the dark tunnel it uncovered, a lump forming in your throat. 

“Why-” you gulp, “I-...H-has no one come in here for a while?”

The demon scoffs quietly in annoyance. 

“There are other entrances. I guess no one’s bothered to use this one for a couple hundred years.”

“Couple hundred years?” You echo quietly, staring into the void.

“Well,” he sighs and leans against the doorframe made of stone, “Ladies first.”

You glance at him to see a stupidly handsome smirk on his face. 

He’s far too aware of the fact that you don’t even break a small smile at his words, all you do is blink a few times before looking into the dark mountainside. 

Then you walk inside and are soon engulfed in blackness.

__________________________________________

“Because mankind is lost,” she whispered lowly, “And has very much forgotten how to listen.”

A few tears fell down your cheeks and you brushed them away with the tips of your fingers. 

“Is there nothing to be done for them?”

“There is much.”

She smiled as she stood straight again and looked down at you tenderly. 

“What?” You whispered brokenly, “What can you angels do against such wickedness?” 

“We are stronger than any darkness, child. But we cannot force humans to choose, they have free will to do as they wish. So we can listen when they are broken, and we can bring them hope. There is a war going on, one that most mortals cannot see. Humans are much more important than they know, for they are constantly being fought over.”

You stared at her with wide shiny eyes.

“We will continue to fight for them, despite their blindness to our existence. Above all else, ____, hope is the most powerful weapon against evil. No human is born wicked, wickedness is made. As angels, dear child, we will fight for Him and his creations until the end. With the Father leading our armies, we will always be faithful, and we will always be strong.”

“And what about me?” You wiped your damp cheeks again, “Earlier, you asked if I would like to be an angel. Could I bring that to humans? Could I help them?” 

One of those proud smiles grew on her face. 

“Yes.”

“...how did I live a life worthy of that choice?”

“Would you like to see?”

After a moment, you nodded slowly. 

Once again, there was a bright light around you, closing in until you could see nothing else. 

Then you were in a small room. You immediately recognized it as your childhood house. You were in the room where your mother prepared meals. 

It was as if you were a fly on the wall, watching the scene from your past unfold in front of you. 

Mother was there. 

A lump formed in your throat at the sight of her. She was saying something to six-year-old you, who was sitting on an old rickety stool close to the ground and peeling something carefully. 

You couldn’t see what it was, but you were unable to move from your spot in the corner to try and look. 

“Mother.”

The tiny voice came from the child you. “What is it now, ____?”

Mother sounded irritated. You furrowed your brows as you watched. 

Why was she so upset? 

Tiny you smiled to yourself as you continued to peel what was in your hands, “There was a boy today that I saw.”

“Who? Jungkook?”

You giggled, “No. He was smaller than Jungkook…but he said he was nine!”

You got no reply. 

“Mother, he said he was eight, but how could he be so very small? How?”

“____,” she snapped, “I’m busy, can’t you hold it in until Yoongi comes? Talk his ear off instead of mine.”

You didn’t seem hurt by the comment, only nodded, “Ok.” Then you went back to your peeling.

Mother sighed loudly, “He was probably one of the kids from the village over. They always come crawling in here and start begging for scraps.”

“Scraps?”

“What? You think you’re hungry, child?” She sneered, “There are others out there hungrier than you. Be grateful for what you have, you hear me? That kid is probably so hungry he hasn’t grown. Probably isn’t much use at home.”

Standing in the corner, your eyes widened in shock as you placed a hand on your heart. 

How could she say something so horrible?

Little you immediately burst into tears, startling you. 

“Quiet down, ____! Why must you cry so much?”

“Oh Mo-mother!” You sniffled, “Can’t we share some of our food with him, please?”

“Absolutely not!” She hollered, “Why should we pay for his family’s incompetence??”

“But I don’t mind sharing,” you whispered tearfully, bottom lip protruding. 

“Any food going into that boy’s mouth from this house is off your plate,” she snarled, then told you to hush up as she finished her sewing. 

Everything faded away, then you were in a field. The small one behind the Kim’s barn. That boy was there, as little as you remembered. 

A bright smile graced his features as the six year-old you handed him a cloth with food in it. 

Even though it was plenty long ago, you remembered it clearly then. It was one of the many meals you had gathered from your plate and snuck to him. You swallowed thickly as you watched the tiny girl smile as the boy ate every last bit of food. You knew behind that smile, her tummy was growling awfully.

Before you could fully process it, there were suddenly images flashing in front of you, much like when you were watching your guardian angel during your lifetime. 

Images of you running through the forest and singing with the birds…ever so slightly moving your position so that the sun went into your eyes instead of your best friend’s…slipping another piece of bread from your plate and onto Mother’s when she wasn’t paying attention. 

She was talking about how hungry she was that day…

Rescuing bugs and lying on the floor of that sick boy’s room for hours and hours. 

Everything was going by too quickly. It felt like your entire life was playing in front of you, time passing slowly yet quickly at the same time.

All you could see were flashes of a girl hugging trees and speaking to her beloved clouds…offering to sit on a spot on the log after seeing it looked more rough than the other side before Jungkook could notice…struggling to hold the filled pail but saying nothing so that Yoongi wouldn’t need to carry it for you…quickly pulling weeds so your best friend wouldn’t have to do as many…

Such little acts, usually for Jungkook. 

He didn’t notice all those small things and you always made sure to be subtle so it would stay that way. You did it because you loved him, not because you wanted anything in return. 

The last thing you saw was you lying on the ground by the apple tree, looking at the sky through the leaves. 

That was your seventeenth birthday, the one Jungkook missed.

It was also the day you had forgiven your mother. 

The tear sliding down your cheek as you smiled at the white clouds shone brightly before the rest of the image lit up and disappeared. 

You gasped in a breath, unaware of the tears falling down your cheeks as your gaze focused back on the angel in front of you. 

“You know that you were not perfect,” she said gently, “But now you see the difference you made for others without knowing it. The love you always had for every single one of His creations.”

You wiped your eyes. 

“That kind of love for nature and humanity is rare to come by.”

“But-...”

You couldn’t help but drop your head into your hands and weep. You didn’t even know why you were crying, you were just feeling everything so intensely. 

“I know it must seem like a lot.”

The guardian angel’s voice was gentle and full of sympathy. 

“The decision is not meant to burden you. You need not say yes. You will be joyful no matter the choice.”

“I want to,” you sniffled, wiping your messy nose with the back of your hand, “If there’s anything I can do for those still on Earth, I want to. I want to help.”

The look in her eyes when you brought your gaze back to hers, was so full of love and something that you had never seen before. It was almost like…the look of a mother who was proud of you beyond words. 

That must be what it feels like. 

“Can I help him?” Fresh tears pooled in your eyes, “H-how long has it been since I passed? I don’t even know if he knows. Can I help him in any way? Please? Oh, please let me help him.”

The smile slowly slipped off the angel’s face. 

“What?” You caught your breath, “What’s happened?”

“It…It has been three days since you died, ____.”

“Three days?” You breathed in disbelief. 

“Yes.”

“And…Jungkook,” you choke out, “Where is he? Does he know? Is he alright? He must b-”

The look on her face made your stomach drop. You gulped, trying your best to have the courage to ask. 

“Guardian angel…what’s happened?”

______________________________________________

You keep your hands out in front of you as you walk along the hall inside the mountain. 

It doesn’t seem as though light has ever existed walking through here. It feels almost thick with the blackness, like you’re moving through syrup. You know he’s behind you, even though he hasn’t said a single word. His presence is unmistakable. It used to bring a wave of warm comfort over you, back when you were both young. Now, there’s a slight energy in the air when he’s around. The energy itself does not bring you comfort, but knowing he’s not far from you does. Just having him close is more than you’ve been able to have for so long. 

Finally, you see a tiny light in the distance. It looks like a ball of fire, way down at the end of the hall. The closer you get to it, the less it looks like a floating orb and more like a doorway. 

“Wait.”

You freeze at the sound of his whispered warning, so soft you almost didn’t hear it. Not moving a single muscle, you wait with bated breath. It almost makes you jump out of your skin when you feel a cold hand on your waist, the chill seeping into your thin clothes and making you shiver. 

It doesn’t take much prompting for him to move you to the side gently, just enough so that he can squeeze past. A choked breath is stuck in your throat as you feel his body drag against yours. 

Then his touch is gone. 

You can see his silhouette in front of you, framed by the flaming orange doorway that’s only about fifty yards away. Your heart almost stops the next second when you see a few dark figures past the doorless arched entryway into whatever cavern is in the mountain, walking idly by as their voices carry down the hall.

“The Jia girl?” A high pitched snarling voice asks shortly. 

“Yes.”

That voice was deeper, you don’t recognize either of them though, never heard them before.

“She relented quickly,” The higher voice cackled, “Didn’t take much.”

“If you’d gotten me sooner it would’ve taken even less.” 

The third voice that cuts in sends a chill down your spine. You know that one, but you only heard it once. The way he tenses next to you confirms it. 

What was his name…San? Sal?

Something with an S…

Sav. 

That was it, that was the name of the demon that you saw talking to JK. What is he doing here?

“Who cares if it’s already been done?” The first voice sneers, clearly irked.

It sounds like Sav and the whiny voiced demon are about to start arguing when the deep voice cuts in again. 

“Enough!” It growls loudly,, “Sav, have you found him? I thought I told you to figure it out.”

Silence follows, then Sav clears his throat. “The last I saw of him he was in the sixth circle.”

Him? Sixth- sixth circle?

A gasp gets stuck in your throat when it dawns on you. 

“Doing what?”

The menacing sound of the deep voice makes goosebumps go down your arms and legs. 

“How should I know? Probably just fucking around as he usually does.” 

A low chuckle floats down the hall. It’s so low you can feel it in your bones. You have a feeling it wasn’t a good idea for Sav to talk back like that. 

“Tell me Sav, if he’s always so busy fucking around, how does he manage to get almost three times as many souls as you each term?”

Your stomach twists violently. If you don’t get away you’re going to be extremely sick all over the floor. 

A freezing cold hand presses to your mouth as you get pushed into the wall gently, not to restrain you in any way, but to keep you from view. You hadn’t realized the whimper that left your lips after hearing the demon’s words. 

It’s silent outside the hall. It feels like an eternity passes before the low-pitched voice of the demon that seems to be higher in rank growls again, “You asked to be the one to deal punishment. If I don’t see it done by the beginning of next quarter, you will be strapped right next to him.”

The sound of heavy footfalls echoes around, then the loud slam of a door, which makes you jolt in his hold. More silence stretches on. 

Have the others left?

You glance up at JK, a question in your eyes. You can see the tense expression on his face as he stares towards the doorway, a hand still pressed to your mouth. He looks down at you, then slowly shakes his head. There’s just barely enough reddish light to see the way his jaw clenches and eyes squint in thought.

“I told you not to act so high and fuckin mighty- ah!”

A high-pitched yelp cuts off the whiny demon’s comment. 

“If you know what’s good for you, shut the fuck up,” Sav hisses, poison dripping from his tongue. 

Another chorus of footsteps bounces off the walls before the sound of two doors slamming echoes into the hall.

You watch him close his eyes slowly before he swallows and pulls the hand from your mouth. Tears form as much as you try to fight them. 

What were they saying? Why would he be in trouble? They said it themselves, he gets more souls than most of them. 

That reminder makes a wave of nausea wash over you and you put one of your own hands over your mouth to keep from being sick. 

He doesn’t say anything, just starts walking towards the glowing doorway, boots making a loud thunk with each step. It doesn’t seem like he’s worried. The way he walks emits an air of confidence. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have come in here…No. No no no. 

You need to see if this is what you’ve been thinking of, hoping for. 

No sound comes from your bare feet as you hurry down the hall after him, as quiet as a church mouse. 

-

When you step through the doorway, a small gasp slips from you despite your attempts to keep it in. 

It’s a large circular room. 

The distance from the wall in front of you is almost the length of a tennis court. You saw a few of those on Earth not long before coming here. The entire room looks to be the size of at least two of them but in a rounded form. 

The ceiling is so high you can’t see the top. The sheer vastness of the room is not what made you gasp though. It was the walls covered in glass windows; spanning the entirety of each wall. The windows do not lead to the outside, there is a blood red wall behind each of them. 

Inside, trapped between the wall and the glass, are thousands of darkened souls. 

You know if they were not here, they would be shining with a light that could not be extinguished. 

They would look like stars, only the size of your palm. 

These souls do not look like stars; they are black and shriveled as they hover in their designated place. 

Your shaking hands move over your mouth to keep in the horrified scream that wants so badly to come crawling out. The sound of your knees cracking on the cold marble floor echoes around the huge previously silent room.

JK turns from looking over the ones nearest to him to see you on the floor, torn hands shaking as they stay clamped over your mouth. Tears are streaming down your face as you look around the ever growing collection of tainted humanity. 

“Is this place…?” You finally whisper shakily, horror-struck.

“The Chamber of Souls,” JK responds quietly. Despite that, his voice echoes, feeling like it’s everywhere and closing in on you. 

The walls feel like they're moving inwards, hellbent on squishing you until you can’t breathe. 

Your head feels like it’s spinning as you close your eyes and pray fervently in your mind. 

It’s horrible, so horrible. It’s so sickening to look at. 

Your body is already weakening faster than you have time for. Angels were never meant to be in Hell. Seeing something like this, despite it being what you came for, is beyond what you thought you could handle. As an angel, it’s so much worse. 

To see the result of despair and anger and wickedness right in front of you…It is physically painful to be in the vicinity of these souls. 

JK walks over to you slowly, watching you closely as you shake on your knees, eyes diverted to the ground. 

“Why are you so upset?” He whispers coldly, eyes trained on your face when you look up at him. 

“I-...” 

You drop your gaze back to the marble floor, “I wasn’t expecting it.”

He says nothing, and when you look up at him again, his eyes are slightly narrowed as he looks at you. You clear your throat and wipe at your eyes harshly. 

Pull it together, ____. 

Come on now, don’t blow it. 

Not when it’s so close.

“Sorry,” you let out a choked laugh, “I- think I’m just overwhelmed with everything right now.” 

All I need to do is find his. 

I am so so close.

“Are you ready to leave?” He asks, face not showing much emotion. 

“What? No!”

His brows furrow as you scramble to your feet and wipe at your eyes again. 

“Why? The ninth circle is-”

“I wanted to look around in here,” you manage to get out, then turn to walk away from him, ignoring his lingering stare. He’s way too silent for your comfort as you look at the souls grotesquely on display. 

How are you meant to know which one is his? Your mind is spinning in circles as you force yourself not to look at him. 

He hasn’t moved from where he was standing, but you can feel his stare on your back as you walk around the perimeter of the room.

“What’s in here?” You ask when you get to a spot where there is no glass on the wall, but a black wooden door with a rusted gold handle. 

“Exit.” He says bluntly. 

“Oh.”

You make your feet keep walking until you reach another door that looks the same but with a dirtied silver handle. You look at him with a question in your eyes. 

“Exit.”

“Ah,” you can feel your hands beginning to sweat as you scan the wall of souls over and over again, looking for any indication that one is different from another. 

You end up passing him and the hall that you came from as you go for another loop. 

Only this time, there’s a small alcove that you hadn’t noticed before that catches your eye. 

You stop and look into it. In the shadows is another black door that looks a bit more battered than the others. The handle is a deep crimson color. 

A pit settles in your stomach when you realize the scratches on the side of the door look like the result of long nails. As if someone was desperately clawing at the door in an attempt not to let it close. An icy phantom draft sends shivers down your back the longer you stare at the door.

“Step away from there.”

You jump at the sound of his voice, but scurry away from it anyway. 

“Why? What’s in there?” You ask breathlessly, fear making you shake as you stand close to his side. You want to forget the realization you had moments before he said that. 

The realization that the handle was not red, but bronze. That the bronze handle was covered in dark blood.

“It doesn’t matter. We’re leaving,” he says sharply, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the hall that you came from. 

“Wait!” You cry desperately, eyes frantically scanning the walls again, “Wait, I can’t leave yet!!”

-

“Stop it!!” You scream, fighting him as he drags you down the pitch black hall, never letting up until you’re outside in the blood light of Hell once again. 

“What the fuck is your problem?!” He lets go of you unexpectedly, which makes you trip and fall to your hands and knees before scrambling back up and lunging for the entrance again. 

But the demon grabs you before you can go back in. 

“Let me go! Let!! Go!!” You screech as you try to fight him off, kicking and hitting as hard as you can. 

But you don’t stand a chance as he yanks you away and pushes you just hard enough so that you stumble and need to catch your balance. When you turn back he’s standing between you and the doorway. 

“Stop it!” He roars before you get the chance to dodge around him. 

You freeze for a moment, then fall to your bottom on the muddy ground in front of him, sobs ripping from your throat, tears leaving wide streaks on your dirty cheeks.

You can’t stop crying, it just keeps coming; salty droplets pouring down your face as your body shakes with heavy gut-wrenching sobs. He watches you grab at your tangled hair and scream.

Everything is ruined, you don’t know what to do anymore. 

That was your one chance and you blew it. This whole thing was your only chance…and you blew it. 

“I’m so sorry,” you can barely get the words out as you cry helplessly, nose running even as you try to wipe it, only succeeding in smearing more dirt around on your face, “I’m so sorry!!”

“Why are you sorry?” He snaps, not having a single clue as to what the hell is happening to you right now.

“I failed,” you whimper tearfully as more tears spill out, “I wasn’t strong enough, or smart enough.”

____.

____, do not give up.

Please, listen to me-

“It’s too late!” You scream as you slap the ground before bursting into another round of uncontrollable sobbing, “Don’t you get it?! I lost! I failed!”

You only begin to settle when you see that he’s come closer and is looking down at you without anger, without anything but confusion on his pretty face. 

“Hey.” He calls to get your attention, sending the most painful pang into your heart as you look up at him, bottom lip trembling. 

Not even on your deathbed did you look such a mess.

“You can finish this,” he says, “The ninth circle is right there. You can make it to the Flame.”

A few straggling tears fall down your cheeks. 

“I never wanted the Flame,” you hear yourself saying miserably.

His head cocks to the side as his brows furrow. 

“What do you mean you never wanted the Flame? The Flame is why you came here, it’s why you’ve suffered through each and every-”

“It’s not.”

The pure confusion on his face makes a thought pop into your head. 

Confusion is the first step…

You hadn’t wanted to do it yet, it wouldn’t have worked before. Maybe it isn’t too late. Maybe if you do it now…it might work.

____, listen to me.

You struggle to your feet, wide eyes looking into his. 

His dark eyes flicker around your messy face stained with tears, the shining glimmer of hope in yours a huge contrast from the sobbing you had been doing only moments before. 

Then you’re stepping closer and he isn’t stepping away. 

He doesn’t even flinch when you take his face in your hands and raise yourself up on your tiptoes. 

He doesn’t protest, he doesn’t fight you at all when you pull him into a kiss. 

The second your lips touch, it’s like that last band snaps inside him and he can’t stop. 

He doesn’t want to stop.

A sigh leaves your mouth when you pull away. Only a second later, he pulls you back in, connecting your mouths again in a desperate kiss, his cold hands holding the nape of your neck. 

He tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss and you gasp when you feel something wet prodding at the seam of your lips. The moment your mouth opens in that gasp, his tongue meets yours in a heated tangle. 

Your wet lips slide against his as a groan slips from him. 

“Fuck,” he moans icily into your mouth. 

You can feel his hands running down your sides with frenzied desire. 

Focus, I need to focus. 

Your eyes scrunch shut as you try to keep yourself in check. 

JK’s brows furrow as his mind begins to blur, a strange heat building up inside of him as he continues to kiss you. 

Green leaves and a bright sun flash in his mind, startling him enough to pull away. 

“Don’t stop,” you gasp, pulling him into you again. 

He shakes off the strange images and dives right back into your lips, an insatiable hunger burning in his lower stomach as his hands travel to your waist and grasp it roughly. 

Only moments later, he sees a roaring river and hears the sound of laughter. 

You feel him pull away again. 

“Just focus, it’s okay,” you whisper, hands cupping his cheeks as you press another kiss to his lips, “Just close your eyes and breathe.”

He wants to stop and ask you what’s going on, but he doesn’t waste a second before pressing his lips back to yours. One of your smaller hands cups his cheek, then you start running the tips of your fingers down his neck and shoulder before holding onto his bicep where that horrible tattoo lies. He feels you grip the sleeve of his shirt harshly, as if you’re dying to just tear it to shreds. 

A vase of dead roses flickers into his blurry mind, then the image of someone lying on a bed, hair splayed out around her.

His brows furrow more, but he doesn’t stop kissing you as the pictures he can’t make sense of fade away. He doesn’t stop his hands from sliding behind your waist and traveling up your back slowly.  

Trees crowd in all around his vision. 

There’s someone running in front of him. 

A small girl. 

She turns around briefly, a huge smile lighting up her face as she laughs. 

“You’re cheating!” 

She only laughs louder and continues to run until she’s disappeared into the bushes ahead. 

“Apple!”

The demon’s eyes fly open and he pulls away. 

You gulp in a breath as you look up at him. 

Then your heart freezes in your chest when you realize what’s happened; the look on his face as he takes a step back from you turns your stomach to rot. 

“Wait,” your voice is weak as you reach a hand out to him. 

You can’t see anything but bewildered anger in his eyes. You were so focused you hadn’t known that he was touching your back. That he-

“I-”

“Shut up.”

You snap your mouth shut. 

“Turn around,” he breathes, just barely keeping it contained. 

“I can expl-” “I said turn the fuck around!!” 

You flinch but make no move to do as he says. 

You can see the last bit of patience snap in his eyes as he grabs your arm and yanks you to him so that he can rip the cardigan off of you. It tears easily, falling to the ground as you put a shaking hand over your mouth and shrink away from him. 

The white wings on your back droop in defeat, the tips just barely brushing against the ground. 

“You-”

The furious hatred on his face is clear. 

You’ve never seen him like this, not ever. 

“You’re a fucking angel?” His voice trembles with rage. 

“JK…”

He steps closer, making you flinch again, “Say that name again and I’ll rip your fucking head off.”

You gulp but don’t say a word. 

“So this was your little game the whole time, huh?” He hisses, stepping closer, “See if the precious angel could defeat a demon in Hell..and here I thought you were smart.”

“That wasn’t it,” you mumble, a few tears sliding down your cheeks. 

“What the hell were you thinking, little angel?” He glares at you in disgust, “That I would fall for you? Love you?” A sadistic chuckle leaves his lips as you close your eyes. 

You jump without opening your eyes when a harsh grip snags your upper arm and he pulls you to him. 

“You really thought I could care about you.” He muses with a dark chuckle, “You, a disgusting pathetic little puppet. I knew there was something off about you this whole time. Did He not give you enough love up there? Had to come to Hell to beg for it?”

You refuse to look at him, you just stand there, trembling and keeping your eyes screwed shut. 

“Open your eyes and look at me.”

Reluctantly, you do as he says. His dark ones are full of so much rage and hatred it makes you sick as he searches your watery gaze. 

Then you feel a cold hand close around your throat. 

“I would kill you right now,” he whispers in your ear coldly. You close your eyes when you feel him start to squeeze harder and harder until you can’t breathe, “If I thought you were worth any more of my time.”

A pained gasp escapes you when he shoves you to the ground. 

You hit the dirt harshly, arms buckling as they try to catch you, wings muddied and sore. Your watery eyes raise to him again, desperate and terrified. 

“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper helplessly, voice hoarse from his actions. You know what would come of an angel lost in this place.

He knows it too.

The demon looks down at you, the lowest angel in existence, with a loathing unmatched before spitting venomously, “Find your own way out of Hell.”

Your vision blurs with tears as he turns and walks off without a single hesitation, his tall dark figure getting smaller and smaller until you are completely and utterly alone. 

_________________

You sit there in stunned silence for a few minutes, just staring at the spot on the ground where he once stood. There is nothing in your mind, yet there is everything all at once. Everything is spinning wildly, nothing making sense. 

Then finally, a sliver of a cohesive thought passes through and you stumble to your feet, tripping over yourself in your haste to get back to the door. 

The snake vines have begun to return, attempting to hide it once more. 

You smack and tear at them viciously, tears pouring down your cheeks silently as you uncover the handle and yank open the door. 

The sound of your bare feet hitting the rocky ground softly as you run echoes off the walls in the darkness. Before long, you can see the archway ahead.

Despite the pain and fear filling you, you push yourself harder until you’re stumbling into the Chamber of Souls and falling to the marble floor. 

You stagger to your feet and hurry to the wall nearest you, eyes scanning the souls frantically as you limp quickly around the perimeter. 

They all look the same. 

They all look the exact same. 

You start to hyperventilate as you go, dirty fingers running along the glass and leaving smudges behind. 

Come on, Apple. 

You can do this. 

You gulp and force your exhausted legs to keep moving. 

He would not give up on you, no matter what.

Suck it up and keep moving.

Your eyes dart this way and that, mind screaming in a horrible panic when you realize you have no idea what to do. Then a thought occurs to you. 

Maybe you won’t be able to tell the difference by looking at them. But maybe you can in a different way. 

Your feet take off running back down the hall where you came from, until you are outside once again and looking for the first heavy thing you see. 

There’s a decent sized stone not far from the door. You grab it and run back inside, lungs burning as you don’t let yourself stop to take a breath. 

You can do this, Apple, you can do this. 

By the time you make it back into the room, you can barely breathe as you lug the rock over to a section of the glass. Closing your eyes, you mutter a quick prayer before opening them again and hurling the stone right at the fragile substance and watching it shatter. 

You put your arms over your face in an attempt to protect it from the worst of the flying pieces of sharp debris. Only your face, chest, and arms were cut by the shards, but not too badly. 

Your chest rises and falls in heavy breaths as you stare at the gaping hole in the windows in front of you, the blackened souls floating there, undisturbed. 

Just as you’re reaching a tentative hand in to grab one, to hold it and see if you can know who it once belonged to, there is a clapping sound from behind you. 

You whirl around to see a demon there, leaning against the archway you came into. 

His skin is pale, eyes dark blue and shaggy hair a dirty blonde that goes to the top of his prominent cheekbones.

The demon wears a fitting black shirt that’s tucked into the waist of his skinny black jeans.

There’s a smug smile on his unsettlingly handsome face as he claps his hands slowly, again, and again, and again. 

You say nothing, eyes drawn to the tattoo on his bicep; the dead monarch butterfly being strangled by a serpent. 

Sav.

“Well, if it isn’t the little stowaway angel herself.”

You continue to stay mute, watching cautiously as he pushes himself off the rocky wall and starts to slowly walk to you from across the room. 

“I thought angels were supposed to be…I don’t know, pretty? Perfect little princesses of Heaven?” A dark chuckle leaves his throat at your silence.

Sav stops ten feet away from you. 

“You’re not any of those things, are you?”

When he takes another step towards you, you finally move, inching backwards along the edge of the room with each step he takes. The smirk on his face only grows as he observes your messy hair, bruised skin and dirty wings that droop behind you, currently at rest. 

“This is what JK risked everything for? Seriously?”

“How did you know I was here?” You ask sharply, eyes narrowing, “How did you know what I was and he didn’t?”

Sav scoffs. 

“Because he’s a fool-”

“Really? And why did it take you so long to find me then, if you’re so smart?”

His blue eyes narrow as he continues his slow but steady advance. 

“I wasn’t looking for you, little angel. I was looking for him.”

“That makes you look even stupider.”

You see his jaw clench. 

“I was busy,” he says, strangely calm, “I knew he was up to something, but honestly? I didn’t think even he would be so brainless as to lead an angel through Hell.”

“How did you know?”

“I didn’t. Not until now, at least,” he chuckles, “Your wings kind of tipped it off a bit, I suppose.”

You gulp, trying to figure out which way is your best bet on getting out. 

“Don’t even think about trying to escape, it’ll just be a tire for us both.”

You say nothing. 

“Where is he, anyway?” Sav’s creepy smile returns, “Your little demon lover.”

When you don’t say a word, he throws his head back and cackles. 

“He left you.”

Your hands are sweating as you clench them into fists, your eyes darting around to see which door you can get to quickest. It looks like the one with the silver handle might be your best choice. Sav is standing over by the bronze door in the alcove, the gold handled door is between you. The archway is straight across the room and you know where that leads, but he would catch you before you could make it out. 

Silver it is. 

“You do know what happens to naughty angels when they get caught in Hell, don’t you?”

All you do is stare at him, mentally timing yourself on when to run. 

“JK knew…and yet he left you.”

Your heart feels like it’s been impaled by a hundred swords. 

“It’s almost like he wants you to suffer.”

You continue to slowly inch your way around the perimeter as he keeps walking closer. 

You can make it to that door. 

“I wish he were here,” Sav pouts, “I’d pay to see the look on his face when I torture his little angel until she’s begging for me to have mercy. Telling me she will do anything to make it stop..”

You gulp, forcing yourself not to look at the door you are about to make a run through. 

It’s only a few feet away now. 

Sav is just about to make another snide comment about your appearance when you turn and bolt for the black wooden door with the silver handle. You can hear him screaming something angrily, but you don’t stop to find out what it is. You’re out the door faster than lightning and running at full speed down the pitch black hall. 

It’s unclear whether he’s followed you in with the sound of your panicked breathing echoing in your ears. Your body is so exhausted it feels like it’s going to collapse. You can’t let it. 

…

You almost made it out. 

The exit was only a few feet in front of you, when an arm riddled with muscles wrapped around your waist and pulled you back. 

The bloodcurdling scream that left you could’ve been heard miles away. 

It was a scream only those that knew the horrors that awaited them would understand.

It wasn’t Sav that grabbed you, it was a demon much larger than he. A demon that cackled maniacally as he dragged you back through the tunnel and into the Chamber of Souls, where Sav was waiting, a delighted smirk on his face as he stood there and watched you cry and fight as hard as you could, fear clear in your eyes. 

He knew. 

He knew you would never have made it out, no matter which door you chose. 

The demon holding you tightly against it- so hard it pinches your wings painfully- has red scales and a horrible long snout full of sharp teeth. It has bony ribs, but muscled arms and thighs as it stands on two mangled legs.

You grit your teeth, gathering yourself. Then you bite the demon’s slimy arm covered in scales, drawing a pained howl from him as he drops you to the floor, knocking the air out of your lungs. 

After a second, you scramble to your feet, blood dripping from your mouth. You aren’t sure if the blood is your own or the demon’s as it hisses curses at you. Sav just watches you closely as you heave in several breaths. 

“You could defeat us right now,” he says casually, “If He allows it. All you would need to do, little angel, is ask Him. Ask Him or one of His little minions to assist you. Call to His strongest minion of all, go ahead.”

You gulp and wipe at the bloody streaks on your chin, glaring at him. 

He’s right, you could get out of this. 

You can make them suffer.

“If ever you need me, little one, just say my name and I will come.”

“If you hurt us even a little bit though,” Sav looks at his nails, inspecting them as he sighs, “We will torture him greater than even the dealt punishment for not delivering enough souls to Hell.”

You close your eyes.

There was never even an inkling of a plan to leave Jungkook here, even after he left you. All you needed was to get out of this predicament. 

But you will not risk him enduring more agony because of you.

Sav tuts when you lower your head, staring at the floor. 

“Why so eager to help him when he couldn’t care less about you?”

You don’t say anything. 

Even as the demon that grabbed you in the hall harshly digs his clawed fingers into your arm, breaking the flesh and drawing blood, your arms wrest behind you, you still say nothing. 

“Thank you little angel,” a devilish smirk spreads on Sav’s pink lips, “For finally giving me something to hold over JK’s pretentious little head. You, I must say, are the most satisfying weakness of his that I could have ever hoped for.”

“I’m not his weakness,” you mumble, knees beginning to shake as the grip on your arms tightens, “You said it yourself, he left me.”

Sav scrutinizes you for a second longer, then he turns on his heel, the demon holding you following behind him as he heads for the alcove. 

Out of nowhere, another demon emerges as you walk. It’s a tall thin man with too big eyes and a smile that stretches across half his face. You swallow thickly when he grabs your left arm so that you’re being dragged between them, feet barely touching the ground. 

When you see Sav opening the door in the alcove, the one JK told you to stay away from, a terror you’ve never experienced takes root. 

Sav smiles sadistically at you. 

“You made a deal with a devil, darling. Now, you’re going to pay the price.”

Every fiber of your being is telling you to scream, to scream and scream and scream. To beg for someone to come save you.

Your body shakes uncontrollably as you’re dragged closer and closer to the door leading into stairs that fall into blackness. Tortured screams echo from below as you stare at the scratch marks on the door. 

If you weren’t restrained, you’re sure your own nails would be digging into that same wood. An act so desperate it would tear that wood to splinters in an attempt not to let the door close. 

Any mortal would have blacked out from pure gut-wrenching fear at the knowledge of what awaited them down those steps. 

You are too horrifyingly aware as you continue to tremble violently, arms sore as the demons clutch you tightly, pulling you closer and closer to the staircase. 

You are too terrified to scream. 

The demon standing in front of you raises a brow and tilts his head at your silence, "You really are loyal, aren't you? Well, pretty thing-"

Sav leans in, mockery dripping from his tongue as he whispers, "Semper fidelis, semper fortis, little angel." He tilts his head back and laughs, then he walks into the door first, the demons holding you following closely behind. 

“Don’t bother begging for mercy, doll,” he calls over his shoulder, “It doesn’t exist here.”

The last thing you see is Sav walking down the steps before the sound of the door behind you slamming shut reaches your ears. 

Then there’s nothing but darkness. 

___________________________________________

a/n: tysm for reading, thoughts are always welcome, ily <3

taglist 1; @butterymin @kookxin @telepathytae @kooliv @highoffbaddecisions @meanum @smitssharon02 @kmpac @ggukkieland @jjanjankook @sugaslittlekookies @hobispriteu1306 @kimchibrat @slowlydeliciousjiminie @screamertannie @i-dont-give-a-fok @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @ohyeahjk @babycandy111 @era-genius @xmochiloverx @sopikooo @jamlessstars @bangtannie7 @nuttykittypainter @geniejunn @ane102 @charlesswife @ashbxnny @veronawrites @jjkw-7 @jinsundor @h-g-bts @justvibingsblog @hyunyeon @hellbornsworld @hiii-priestess @nuttypizzacat @vidaficrecs @royallyjjk @thvslvt @hoseoksluv89 @moonchilddna @idkjustlovingbts @aurorathi

[junrenjun]

Wait

alpha!dino x beta!reader (implied ot13 x reader)

genre: fluff, slight smut (more suggestive than actual smut)

wc: 922

warnings: suggestive (18+ please!)

a/n: little blurb inspired by the spell mv. part of the understand series. don't worry though, dino will still his own focus in a longer, normal fic later on! said i wasn't going to write smut but this music video said otherwise

The door to Chan’s room opened so forcefully he thought it was going to put a hole in the wall. He was expecting one of his hyungs to walk through the door and yell at him for leaving dishes in the sink. He really should put those away. But instead, he saw you making your way toward his bed. “Yah noona, what’s your problem?”

You don’t respond, simply glancing toward Hansol’s empty side of the room before pouncing on Chan. His hands go instinctively to your waist as you both fall onto the bed and it practically has you purring. You may be a little riled up from…prior events. 

The alpha doesn’t mind the attention though, savoring the way his skin feels against yours. His eyes flick up yours. Finally, he says, “Can I help you?” 

You resist the urge to smack the smirk off his face. Smartass baby alphas. You don’t give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you bury your head into his neck, teeth nipping at his Adam's apple. He curses Seungkwan for ever telling you that the area in the center of his throat is more sensitive than his scent gland. You’re playing dirty and he knows it. His breathing speeds up and you know the smug look that previously adorned his face is gone. 

After a few moments of blissed silence, you finally give Chan some reprieve. As you pull away, his eyes flutter open. “What’s gotten into you noona?”

It’s your turn to smirk. “Spell,” you reply nonchalantly. 

The alpha looks incredibly confused. Sometimes you wish you could lend him an extra brain cell. You wait until it hits him. “Are you talking about the spell music video?”

Yes, yes you are. “Mhm. And you looked so…damn…good,” you reply, kissing the tip of his nose between each word. 

He giggles in response. “I’m glad you liked it, baby. But the rest of the performance team looked pretty good too, don’t you think?” 

You don’t think, you know. “Mm they did. I understand why you guys wouldn’t let me come to the shoot or send me pictures that day. I think I would’ve combusted on the spot.”

Ah, that’s right. Hoshi had insisted that you weren’t allowed to see anything about the music video until it was officially released. Chan himself hadn’t understood why until he was getting styled that day. Yeah, you were going to be a menace once you caught a glimpse of them looking like this.

It had gotten on your nerves though. You usually accompanied the boys to most of their shoots, so when Minghao broke it to you that you weren’t allowed to come, you didn’t understand why. They told you it wasn’t anything personal and that they just wanted it to be a surprise for you. What they forgot however, was that you hate surprises.

You had pestered the performance unit for days, trying to get them to reveal anything. None of them budged. Minghao was closest to giving in, but Hoshi caught him before he could show you any pictures. You lost your mind trying to get the smallest glimpse of the concept, but to no avail. Life went on and you left them alone, so the boys thought you forgot about the ordeal. Which is why Chan was caught off guard. The video had come out less than an hour ago. You clearly still remembered. 

And here you were, laying on top of him, blabbering on about how good they looked. Yeah, their plan was definitely falling into place. He looks up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes you can imagine and softly lets out a, “kiss?”

You roll your eyes, but the eyes work their magic and you give in. He’s savoring the taste of your lips on his when he feels you sit up to straddle him. He doesn’t think anything of it until you give an experimental roll of your hips. Chan can’t help but pant into your mouth. You pull away a bit and he whines, “...y/n.”

You ignore his protests and look right into his eyes. He holds your gaze for a second and you take the opportunity to push your hips down again. This time a lot harder. The alpha almost comes right there and then. His head is thrown back and a soft sigh leaves his lips. You take the opportunity to continue moving yourself against him. 

Soon, he’s gasping for air as you grind on him and mouth at his throat again. You’re working him up so nicely and he’s content to sit there and take it, even if his sweatpants end up ruined. But then suddenly, nothing. Your mouth leaves his neck, your hips stop moving, and you’re getting up from the bed.

Chan is confused. He watches as you slink back toward the door and he catches his breath. Eventually, he gathers his thoughts and calls out to you before you have the chance to leave. “Noona! Where are you going?”

He watches an evil grin spread across your face. You completely face him again before simply stating, “you and the rest of the unit knew what you were doing, making me wait. Now it’s your turn to wait.”

The alpha watches as you turn on your heel and walk out the door, heading toward what is likely Hoshi’s room. The thought of warning the others of your little plan crosses his mind, but he quickly shakes it off. Nah, they all deserve it now.

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: here's one for jude 😁 they're childhood friends, have known one another for so long, everyone says they are a perfect fit but jude brushes off the idea because deep down he doesn't want to admit he's in love with her, she on the other hand doesn't have time for relationships cause of her career as a ballerina. they stop talking for about three years until they meet again in madrid, she's dragged by her girlfriends to see real madrid play, that's when she sees jude, they reconnect with jude finally ready to confess his feelings, however one of his teammates tries to jump in the way. (@findingnemosworld)

Word Count: 761 words

(author's note: everyone thank @findingnemosworld for her amazing requests !! i did change the ending a little so i hope thats okay 🫶)

Jude always thought that Y/N was the most beautiful girl in the world. Her smile could light up a room, and her laugh was like music to his ears. They had been friends since he could remember, spending most of their childhood years as an inseparable pair.

What Jude didn’t realise is that Y/N felt exactly the same about him. His happy-go-lucky personality made her enjoy being around him, and the side of him that was ever-so caring made her fall head over heels for the boy.

But through Jude’s move to Real Madrid and Y/N’s gruelling career as a ballerina, the pair had fallen apart. This shocked everyone around them, as anyone who looked their way would assume they were a couple. There was no one else in the world who would've been more of a perfect fit together than Jude and Y/N.

Jude Bellingham wasn’t scared of most things. He’d played professional football for years. Suffered online abuse and gone through many hardships throughout his life. But the idea of telling Y/N how he felt about her had him shaking with fear. He valued her friendship more than anything else, so when he had to let his best friend know he was moving away, it broke his heart.

Y/N was devastated. Jude’s departure had made her lose her drive and motivation and her ballet career was suffering because of it. Her coach was pushing her to her limits to distract her from the gaping hole that Jude had left behind in her life with his departure.

Time passed, and the pair hadn’t spoken in months. But that didn’t mean that they didn’t think of one another every passing minute, of every passing day.  

Y/N had a break in ballet performances, and it just so happened that her dance group’s next show was in Madrid. Her friends had been given tickets to a football game, and she blindly agreed to go. Her friend, who had been given the tickets, was married to a player from one of the teams playing, and Y/N desperately needed a chance to relax.

Jude was sat in the changing rooms. He was listening to Vinicius Jr. give them a pep talk before their game against Sevilla. He had a strange feeling his his stomach but he couldn’t place it. 

"Jude, are you okay?" Luka asked him, noticing the look on his Jude's face.

“Yeah man, I’m fine”, Jude responded, brushing off his friend’s concerns.

And so the game began. Y/N and her friends sat, immersed in the game. She always used to watch Jude play, and the interest in football had stuck, even after he moved away. However, when the line-ups were announced and the players walked out, Y/N felt sick. She hadn’t seen Jude in three years since his move to Madrid, and the painful memories rocketed to the forefront of her mind.

Jude ran onto the pitch. As he stood through the pre-game formalities, his eyes wandered over the masses of spectators that had turned up to watch their teams play. However, his eyes widened when they connected with those belonging to a familiar face.

Y/N’s mouth dropped open. The look she shared with Jude was one full of shock and pain. Jude mouthed ‘meet me after the game’ and she understood immediately.

It was an interesting game that resulted in a draw. Each side fought hard, but neither of them could grasp the winning goal. Jude had never been so eager to leave the pitch as he rushed over to where Y/N was waiting for him.

As he stood in front of the girl he had loved his whole life, he faltered. Jude knew he couldn’t hold his feelings back any longer.

“Y/N, I love you. I have for so many years and I-”

“Jude, I love you too.”

Jude stopped talking. He had been waiting to hear those three words come out of her mouth since he had learned what they meant. He couldn’t stop himself anymore. He stepped forward, cupped her face with his hand, and kissed her. 

Jude poured every ounce of love he had for Y/N into that kiss. The fondness he felt for her was unbeaten, the years he spent hiding it, filled with regret.

Once they broke away, the looked at eachother. The look was not filled with pain this time, it had been replaced with love and tenderness.

The pair left the stadium, reunited and ready to spend their days together.

[littleclosetofbyler]

it was me, i was mike

Hello world.

So I got around the byler rabbit hole around 13 days ago (backed up by a comment on the first byler yt video i watched, kinda crazy), and everything went downhill from there until two or three days ago when i realized something extremelly curious: I was Mike Wheeler once.

Now, you might be asking yourself "the f is this woman into" but hear me out: everyone has a past.

So I will tell you a little bit about myself and my first friend crush.

I was around 15-16 when it started, year 2005, she was two years younger than me and my best friend. We went to the same school, she was really really smart, we would hang out because we both liked anime and books and games. Basically I asked her to be my friend during recess one day, of course when you are 15 the interaction goes more like "hey i heard you like anime, me too, wanna hang out after this?"

And hang out we did. A lot.

Fast forward a few years we are in full friendship with me being around 18 and dumb as f. We would go everywhere together and all was great, until I met one of her friends, a guy who was just kind of cool, but I actually just liked his name.

I started dating him, because I had nothing better to do, and my friend and I were okay for around a week, and then this guy asked my friend how he could make me kiss him... and my friend cut me off.

Like that. No longer friends.

In january was her 16th birthday, I called her on the phone and asked why we were no longer hanging out, I told her I missed her and she gave me the answer that has been with me for over 15 years already: "Our age gap is too big".

At the moment I was sad and weirded out, we were friends, best friends, what the hell happened. Until a few weeks later I talked with another friend, a wise dumb kind of guy who told me the second answer that has been with me for years: "She liked you".

I was 19 when I understood my feelings for women were more than platonic, I was 19-20 when I had my first everything with women. I was 19-20 when i came out of the closet.

But when I was 18 and she liked me, I was just... oblivious.

I used to make jokes about gay people, I had a lot of internalized homophobia, I thought things were not very logical at all. It took me years to realize that my "looking up to X older girl" was not a common universally straight experience, not in the way I used to do it. It took me even more years to realize that my first idealization of a "wet dream" was not the man, but the woman in the blue dress and high hair.

A few years more, of should I say, many years more, is what it took me to realize a lot of other things; looking back, my relationship with her was never completely "normal", not for two girls in my country at that age in the year 2007.

Hidden messages, special presents, a folder full of drawings, german music, a little too close in all the photos, sleepless nights on her bed, ice cold tea specially for me, holding hands while watching anime in the darkness of a movie theater, almost hugging while a kiss happened in those movies, sleeping on my shoulder, except that she was never really sleeping.

We were everything and we were nothing, platonic friends only.

Today I am 34, and an openly not straight woman (lesbian? bisexual? I don't know, i don't care).

When I lost her I did not only lost my best friend, I lost so so much more, and it was probably the cathalist for everything that came after.

I miss her to this day.

So I understand the universal not straight experience of the crush on a friend as well as the being the crush of said friend, and let me tell you, I was Mike Wheeler, remember that guy I told you about? Well, I told him I loved him (can´t actually even remember if this happened exactly like this), because he insisted I never said it.

I have never been in love with a man, I am not sure I even ever feel anything for a man beyond platonic whatever.

So, whenever I see people say that Mike Wheeler just can't be gay, or be or anything... oh my sweet summer child, he can be, because I was, at the same age, in a not conservative contry, in 2008; why do you think it might be impossible in the 80's in a conservative town in a pretty conservative country?

Dunno, just asking.

[observeowl]

Second Chance | Chapter 8 - Life Lessons

Series masterlist

sorry! i haven't been putting the taglist for the last 2 chapters. but you can reach it through the masterlist. hopefully i will remember it from now on.

You woke up about an hour later, sitting peacefully on the bench with Andrew. It was night out, and hardly anyone was walking outside except the few who came out to refill their bottle or take a breather. 

“Are you awake?” You hummed, still not wanting to go back in again despite having an hour's break. “Shouldn’t you at least finish the last half hour of training? I know Clint came out a few times looking for you, even though he didn’t say anything.” 

You stretched your limbs, resigning to the fate that you have to head back in. You used to take this opportunity to see Nat when she came to see Clint each week. You no longer feel the spark of interest you had when you first joined Archery. Now, it’s more of a mandatory thing than something you look forward to every week. 

With a clap of your hands, you stood up from the bench and headed back to range. Clint gave you a silent disappointed look before looking back at others. You ignored him and got back to your position to shoot the last few arrows before everyone called it a day. It was tough for everyone to have such a long training session when the minimum was 2.5 hours. Some come for the whole 5 hours in school, and this was practically twice that. 

He dropped you off at your door and passed you your archery bag. “Have a good night’s rest. I know you’re not staying long tomorrow, and you have a long way back.” You suggested to Andrew to head back to his room for some sleep as you were planning to stay behind to use the gym here tomorrow morning. Andrew has his basketball training session in the afternoon, which he has to get to; otherwise, he would have stayed and waited with you. 

“How are you going to head back though?” 

“I’ll figure something out.” He nodded before saying goodbye to your friends in the same room and left. 

“You two are in your honeymoon phase.” Your friend was stating the fact without any malic when she saw how lovey-dovey you were with him. You didn’t have anything to defend or deny as you knew this was how you and Nat started. Always next to each other, texting one another, until you saw disagreements that were too hard to settle.

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” You asked. She shook her head, and you just smiled. This was what you felt before you fell in love with Nat. Those couples that over-display affection was interesting to you. You never understood why they were always in each other’s space. But ever since with Nat, every little thought brings you back to her. It may not even be something she liked, but you wanted to share everything with her, the little things that made you happy such as seeing a cat on your way to work or a nice dress that you saw someone wearing.

“You’ll understand when you get one.” 

===

In the morning, you woke up in time to have breakfast before seeing Andrew off. You decided that since there were still 3 hours before checkout, you’d pack your bags, leaving out the things you require for your gym session. 

You were slightly self-conscious entering the gym, not because you weren’t confident in your own body, but because you were a gym noob. This was the first time you entered the gym alone, without anyone guiding you. You weren’t sure if you were going to use the equipment correctly or if you were hogging the equipment that someone was planning to use. 

You liked to stand in the corner with your weights, surveying everyone through the mirror. No one was going to use your weights, right? You were using the lightest one available, and most gym goers use the medium to heavy weights or the other machines. But either way, your mind was louder than the music in your ears, and you eventually left the gym after an hour of workout. 

“Didn’t think I'd see you here.” You lift your head to see Natasha looking at you. She was heading to the gym, the one who taught you gym basics. You ignored her and continued making your way to your room. “We have to be around each other, and you can’t keep ignoring me.” That made you stop walking and look around. You didn’t see anyone, so there was no point putting up an act to acknowledge her. 

“Hey, Y/N! You went to the gym too?” Suddenly Maria came out of nowhere, and you just smiled and nodded. “We are about to head to the gym too. Nat needs to get over her hangover, and she’s offering to guide me on what to do.” 

“Have a nice time. I’m sure you’re going to learn a lot.” You turned to leave, but Natasha called you once again.  

“How are you going back? I heard from Clint that Andrew left in the morning.” You had the intense feeling to give her a sarcastic comment, but you held back since Maria was here. 

“I can figure it out. I’ll take a bus or Uber if I feel like I’m rich.” You shrugged your shoulders before finally leaving. 

Your friends were doing their final packing as you entered the room. Since they were staying in the dorm, they were heading back together. You begged them to bring your bow bag with them and place it in the school locker because there was no way you were going to be carrying that heavy ass bag alone. 

As the logistic director of the archery team, you was designated to collect everyone’s keycard to return to the front desk after making sure everyone returned it. The only ones remaining were part of the executive committee. Since everyone was here, they decided to hold a quick meeting regarding the upcoming tournament. For your part, you have to get everything ready for the captain, such as the toolbox and first aid kit. 

This was the first tournament you were going to be participating in. Not exactly the first, but the first in this version of this life. Before this, you used to only head to the tournament to cheer them on, even though it starts really early and is held more than an hour away from your home. 

In actual fact, it has been a long time since you participated in any tournament. The atmosphere of hearing and seeing forty people shoot all at the time was something you were unable to find anywhere else. 

Once everything was settled, everyone was free to leave. Some already had a car and drove here, but they stayed in a different direction than you. Just as you were deciding how you were going to head back, your phone received a message. 

Gave you some money for an Uber back home :) 

It was Andrew. Before you could reply, he sent another message. 

I know you can well afford this, but you don’t have to save money every way you can. Plus, I want you to have a comfortable ride home. 

A smile plastered your face when you read his text. You didn’t think he remembered when you said you were trying to get a head start above everyone else in terms of earning money and getting a job because your parents were significantly older compared to your peer’s parents. As the only child, the burden of taking care of your parents falls on you. As much as they tried preparing for their retirement, the rising cost of living and inflation stresses you out. 

Thanks. How about we meet for lunch? I can pay it back to you then. My treat. 

Sure. I’ll hold you to it.

You picked up your bag, getting ready to leave and say goodbye to the group when Clint came forward to talk to you. You resisted rolling your eyes, not knowing what he was trying to talk to you about. 

“Look, I… you’re improving a lot, and I believe you will do well in the competition. I have never seen someone improve as quickly as you. Someone such as you in the novice section would do very well.” 

“Thank you. But I wouldn’t put too much faith in myself. There are others out there that do amazing as well.” 

“Have a good rest. I know training was tough, especially yesterday.” 

You nodded before giving him a small wave and pointing to the back, suggesting you were leaving this place and the conversation. 

===

A few days later

You brought your family out for lunch since their work gets quieter during the year-end. You brought them to a ramen place your future self found and thought it would be nice to introduce them to if they were still around. It also has a mall nearby to shop around if they like to do so. 

As long as the shop sells spicy ramen, you know what you’re going to order for your father. However, your taste buds and stomach were like children at times, more often choosing to share with your mother as you may not be able to finish the food yourself and not want to waste any. 

“Do you want the corn or pork option?” You asked your mother for her opinion. 

“I don’t mind; either is fine.” 

Such a tough decision. Ultimately, you decided on the ramen that includes corn since you were going to order gyoza as a side dish. 

As you were eating, your phone started receiving a lot of messages. You took a peek at what was happening from your lock screen and noticed it came from Camellia and Diana. They seemed really excited at what they were discussing, so you took a break from eating and checked your phone. 

C: Guys, guys, the results are out!!

D: Really?

C: Yeah, my friend checked hers

D: Ok, ok, I’m going to check.

OMG… I’m so nervous

C: Me too! I totally forgot what was on the test, though. 

You would love to check your results too, but you preferred using your laptop to check instead. And you would like to get your emotions in check before getting your results. This part of the test always freaks you out more than taking the actual test itself. You took a few deep breaths before putting your phone down and resumed eating again. It isn’t uncommon for you to feel irritated after looking at your phone, so your parents don’t think too much about it. 

You’ve always wanted to get those high-cut Converse, and you took this chance on Christmas sales to get one. You could have gotten it after you started working, but you felt it was too casual even though people wore them. You couldn’t lie, you were tempted though, but your morals stopped you. 

You tried different designs of shoes, so while waiting for the store assistant to get one in your size, you went out to tell your father he could wait somewhere else or in a pub, drinking his beer. He isn’t one to shop for a very long time. You got your mother’s opinion as you walked up and down, trying to get comfortable in the shoes. Ultimately, you decided on one and paid for it as your mother texted your father to meet at the car in order to head home. 

Once you get home, you quickly open your laptop and log into your school email account to check for your results. You felt your heart beating out of your chest, and your hands shook as you typed in your details. The more you felt you could do well, the more nervous you were especially since you have gone through one round of this

So, when you saw you only received a B grade for all of your subjects, your body slumped back down on your chair in a daze. You had a hard time registering how badly you did. How was this even possible? 

You really wanted to excel in this life and get rid of always being the average person in the class. But, even with this second chance, you’re stuck with that title; how was this fair? 

A B grade generally isn’t bad, but it is when that’s all you get. Were you only capable of getting a B?

You checked the email one more time before going to the official application and saw the same results. You resigned to fate and closed your laptop after that. 

After seeing the sad news, a nice day out with your family has ended badly. Thankfully your friends weren’t the type to ask to share results, so you flopped onto your bed and went to sleep. 

That was the first time in forever you let a tear slip because of your grade. 

===

“Hey Nat! Have you checked your results?” Clint asked when he realised today’s date. 

“No, is it today?” She pulled out her phone and checked her calendar. 

“Yeah! Hurry up and check it so I can gauge what I got!” He rushed her, giving her his phone with the login page ready for her. Maria, who was having lunch with them, also went to check her results using her phone more peacefully than her friends. 

“What’s the rush? Not like your results will change if I check now or later.” Despite saying that, Nat accepted his phone and checked her results to give her friend peace of mind. It took a while for the page to load, but she got there eventually. Happy with her result, she returned the phone to Clint without saying anything. 

“Holy shit! An A for everything!?” Clint exclaimed when he saw Nat’s results. Nat smirked at his response. She was confident that she was going to ace her exams. Law test was more practical in that sense; whatever she did in her career could be used in the exams. Unlike yours, you specialise more in the audit side, which was not tested.  The diners at the restaurant turned to look at them for a moment when he shouted. “What about you, Maria?” 

“Aced it too.”

“Right, right. So I should do well too, right?” Clint asked tentatively as he logged in with his details. Both women looked at each other sceptically, knowing he was not the brightest student in the class. 

“Well, I don’t know, Clint.” Maria sighed. “Who was the one who had to remind you a test was coming up?” 

“Nat?” 

“Who was the one who had to help you when you were doing your group project?” Maria continued asking. 

“Nat...” 

“Who was the one who had to give you their notes when you weren’t listening in class?” 

“Nat. Okay, okay… I get it. My grades aren’t going to be that good.” Clint grumbled as he waited for the page to load. Nat and Maria crossed their arms and stared at him as they waited. Sensing their stares, Clint turned his body away and shielded his phone from their prying eyes. “Alright, I got it. Not that good, but good enough.” He informed them as he pocketed his phone. 

“You’re not going to tell us what you get?” Maria asked. “How’s that fair? We both told you our results.”

“You told me willingly. I didn’t force it out of you.” Clint defended. 

“I got it.” Nat’s phone displayed Clint’s results, and Maria moved at the speed of lightning to grab it before Clint could even react. 

“How?!?” Clint looked at Nat, feeling betrayed. 

“Do you really want to know?” Nat raised her eyebrow. “I memorised your school ID since I always submitted the work. And your password is so easy to decipher. For the sake of god, find something else.” 

“Maria! That’s enough, give me my phone back.” She decided that it was enough of teasing Clint. “You didn’t do too badly. Just one B and one B+, and three As.”

“But it pales in comparison to the both of you.” 

“Why don’t we invite the others to the bar? Celebrate our results and drown in sorrow that the holiday is ending.” Maria suggested. 

“Alright, let me just text someone.” Maria nodded and went ahead with Clint to the bar they often visited with the group. 

Nat unlocked her phone and was about to press on your contact when she remembered you wanted nothing to do with her. She wanted to know how you were doing. On the surface, you always looked like you were okay with your results, shrugging your shoulders and waving it off, but she knew you cared a lot more and wanted a lot more. In the end, she closed her phone and went to the bar. 

Series masterlist

@queen-of-chaotic-surprises @esposadejoyhuerta @gemz5 @natsxwife

@dyslexic-dreamer @unexpected-character @eternalnight410

@leenasayeed @oh-thats-sad @skz-xii @gay-frogs-dancing-around

@justspance

[triflesandparsnips]

So I was, as per normal, thinking again about Stede just collapsing into the cabin-kiss, and like-- we talk a lot about how Stede had just killed a guy, he was maybe not in the best headspace for sexy times, but--

in looking around for a kiss gif (AS PER NORMAL), I saw this one too:

...and I've been wondering and wondering about that face, right? Stede's face. A bit silly, kind of the embodiment of "smiling helplessly", a phrase that sounds bad out of context but usually appears when someone is just absolutely delighted by the existence of something-- or someone-- doing something ridiculous and amazing...

And it occurred to me that: Stede went to hide in his room so he could freak out, right? He's used to hiding, or trying to hide, how he feels when it comes to the childhood trauma stuff. And he's used to literally hiding in his cabin unless/until someone approaches that he has to mask back up for-- we see that all the way back in the very first episode of season 1.

But that night? The person who approached was Ed.

And not there asking him to be 'the captain'. Not telling him to 'man up' about the killing thing. Not even asking him to be the Romantic Lead or the Lost Love Return'd, roles Stede had been eager and wanting to play but just. not right now.

It could've gone wrong. Stede didn't say "come in"-- he didn't say anything at all, just opened the door, maybe expecting-- god, what he's gotten before, every single other time his entire life--

And Ed... changes the script.

He doesn't step in, doesn't break Stede's boundary, doesn't ask for anything from Stede. He just wants to see if Stede's okay. And more than that: By providing his own feelings about killing his dad, he's letting Stede know that, for the record? Stede doesn't have to be okay.

So... so for maybe the first time that Stede can remember-- or at least maybe the first time we see on-screen-- Stede is hurting, and. And someone comes to comfort him.

No ulterior motives. No quid pro quo. No requirement that he feel one way or another, be this or that kind of person.

Someone-- no, not just someone, Ed, who knows Stede, who's seen him and understood him and could ask so much from Stede if he wanted to-- just sees that he's hurting, and wants to help.

And like-- have you ever felt that kind of kindness? It's heady enough when it's a stranger. But when it's someone you know, someone you care about, someone you trust (hope, pray that you can trust) to hold the delicate, vulnerable heart of you--

Fuck, okay, that face, that silly face, that face that says nothing but looks like it's about to cry and to laugh and it's heartbreak for the past that never felt that kind of comfort and wonder for the person who made it possible in the present and it all adds up to just smiling helplessly--

Listen.

They say that in musicals, songs happen when a character's feelings are too strong for mere dialogue to contain.

I say that in this moment, Stede's actions aren't because he's addled from the kill, but because his feelings-- what love can mean beyond "romance", what it does, what it gives, what it allows, what it makes possible-- rise up and over and wash his hands against Ed's jacket and twist them both to the wall, and then, and then--

just collapse him into that warm embrace, where all the hundred thousand words he could try to find to explain what this love feels like can, for a short while at least, be transmuted into a form that can say them all at once.

[oldiesstationlover11607]

HI BESTIEEEE

okay okay. idea. joshs sister reader x tyler.

kinda like the sai!josh x tylers sister reader one where theyd been sevretly dating.

same kinda premise but like josh is realy realllyyy not okay with tyler dating his sister, like itd been a big nono since he inteoduced them to each other. but one night they both like bonded over something and the connection kept going. then josh finds out whem he comes into her room quickly for something he left and sees tyler in her bed and he freaks out thinking they slept together. they have to explain that theyd been dating for a while (like lonnngg while) and josh gets super angry.

ik the josh x reader one had a happy ending.. maybe this one ends angstily or not good at all. you can decide. love your work <33

HAVE A GOOD DAY!!🧡🧡

Off Limits - Tyler Joseph x Dun!Reader

Warnings: Panic attacks and angst/argument between Josh and reader

Word Count: 2331

A/N: As soon as I saw this request I started chucking out ideas of how they met, Tyler helping her through anxiety and mental health struggles, them blasting music in the car, basically being perfect for each other. Poor Josh tho...

It was one of those rare quiet nights in LA, where the city’s usual noise was replaced by an almost eerie calm. The kind of stillness that makes you hyper aware of every breath you take, every beat of your heart. I lay in bed, staring at the TV that flickered in the corner of my room, barely paying attention to whatever show was on. My mind was too crowded to focus on anything.

Tyler had been at the studio all day, and I knew he’d be coming home late. Josh had been there, too, working on drum takes for Blurryface—their latest obsession, the album that had consumed their lives. Mine, too. But tonight, the emptiness in the house felt different. Maybe it was because I was too restless, or maybe it was the weight of the secret that I carried every day. The one that Tyler and I carried together.

Two years. Two years of hiding. Two years of stolen moments. Two years of lying to my brother.

My brother had introduced us at a party back when Vessel was starting to gain traction. I still remember that night—Josh had been so excited to show me off to his bandmate, like I was some prized possession. I’d tried to be cool, tried not to let on that I was immediately fascinated by Tyler’s tattoos, his quiet demeanor, the way he seemed so different from the crowd. But I guess I wasn’t as subtle as I thought.

Josh pulled me aside that night, his expression dark. I can still hear his words, sharp and cutting: “Stay away from him. He’s off-limits. You can’t have him, okay? You have to promise me.”

And because I didn’t want to lose my brother, because I didn’t want to make him angry, I promised. I promised I wouldn’t fall for Tyler, that I wouldn’t get involved with him.

But here I was, two years later, breaking that promise every single day.

I pulled the covers up to my chin, trying to shake the feeling of unease that had settled in my chest. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be with Tyler—I loved him more than I’d ever thought possible. He was the only person who really understood me, especially during the roughest period of my life. He’d been there for me when everything else fell apart. But the guilt gnawed at me every day. I hated lying to Josh. I hated sneaking around. Most of all, I hated the feeling that this was all going to blow up in our faces one day.

I heard the front door open and close softly, followed by Tyler’s familiar footsteps padding down the hallway. My heart lifted at the sound, the tension in my chest easing slightly. A moment later, he slipped into the room, his presence instantly bringing a sense of calm. Just seeing him made everything feel a little less heavy.

He looked exhausted—worn out from hours of recording, his dark hair tousled from the day. His eyes, though heavy-lidded with fatigue, softened when he saw me. He kicked off his shoes and flopped down on the bed next to me with a sigh.

“Rough day?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper, afraid to disturb the quiet between us.

He let out a deep breath, rolling onto his side to face me. “Yeah,” he muttered, his voice low and tired. “I don’t even know what time it is anymore. It’s all blending together.”

I nodded, reaching up to brush a stray curl away from his forehead. “It felt like that during Vessel too. It’ll get easier.”

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, the weight of everything we had been hiding seemed to hang between us. But then Tyler leaned in, gently kissing my forehead, lingering there for a second longer than usual. It was soft, comforting—the kind of kiss that didn’t need words. It was enough to make the world feel a little smaller, a little more bearable.

“Being here with you… it’s the only thing that makes sense right now,” he murmured against my skin.

I smiled at that, my heart swelling. “I feel the same.”

Tyler shifted closer, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me into his chest. I rested my head against him, the steady thump of his heartbeat soothing the chaos in my mind. He kissed the top of my head, his lips brushing through my hair, and I felt myself melt into him, the weight of the day slipping away.

“You’ve got to be tired,” I said softly, my fingers tracing the patterns of his tattoos across his chest.

“I am,” he admitted, his voice a little drowsy now. “But I’m always good when I’m with you.” His hand moved up my back, fingers gently brushing the skin there, and I could feel his love in every movement, in every touch.

“Sometimes I wish we didn’t have to keep hiding like this,” I confessed quietly, not sure where the words were coming from. “I hate lying to Josh. I hate that this is all so complicated.”

Tyler sighed, his thumb stroking soothing circles on my side. “I know. I hate it too. But… I don’t know how else we can do this without hurting him. I just need more time to figure it out.” He kissed the top of my head again, this time lingering a little longer, as if he could press his understanding into me through the warmth of his lips.

I lifted my head slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you… but I don’t want to lose Josh either.”

Tyler’s gaze softened, his eyes filled with that quiet understanding I’d grown to love. “You won’t lose either of us,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “We’ll find a way. We always do.”

He leaned in then, his lips brushing against mine, a soft, tender kiss that made everything else fade into the background. I kissed him back, my hand resting against his cheek as I let myself fall into the moment, into the safety of him.

When we finally pulled apart, our foreheads rested together, our breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. Tyler’s fingers traced down my arm, his touch gentle and reassuring.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words a soft promise between us. “I’ve got you.”

My heart fluttered at his words, the love I felt for him swelling inside me. I kissed him again, this time slower, more deliberate. I wanted him to feel everything I couldn’t always say out loud.

“I love you too,” I whispered against his lips, my voice breaking just a little. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Tyler smiled, pressing another soft kiss to my lips before settling back into the bed, pulling me even closer into his chest. His hand slipped under the hem of my shirt, resting gently on the skin of my back, the warmth of his touch grounding me.

“For now, let’s just focus on this,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Right here. Just us.”

I nodded, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Wrapped up in Tyler’s arms, with his heartbeat beneath my ear and his soft breaths lulling me into a sense of safety, it felt like for just a little while, the outside world didn’t exist.

The worry about Josh, the guilt that gnawed at me every day—it all seemed to fade in the warmth of Tyler’s embrace. Here, like this, I could pretend that everything was going to be okay.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, it was morning. The sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Tyler was still asleep next to me, his arm draped over my waist. I watched him for a moment, feeling that familiar mix of love and guilt twist inside of me. He looked so peaceful, so unlike the Tyler everyone saw on stage or in the studio. This was a Tyler only I knew—the one who was soft, thoughtful, and quiet in the way he cared for me.

I shifted slightly, trying to disentangle myself without waking him, but before I could, the door burst open with a loud thud.

“Hey, have you seen my—”

Josh’s voice cut through the air, and the moment he laid eyes on us, everything seemed to freeze. My heart dropped into my stomach. Tyler stirred beside me, blinking awake, but I could already feel the tension crackling in the air. This was it. This was the moment I’d been dreading.

Josh stood there in the doorway, his face pale with shock. For a second, it was like he couldn’t even process what he was seeing. But then, his expression twisted into something darker—betrayal, anger, hurt—all at once.

“What the hell is this?” His voice was loud, harsher than I’d ever heard it before.

Tyler sat up slowly, his movements cautious, but I could already see the storm brewing behind Josh’s eyes.

“Josh, wait, it’s not what you—” I started, but my voice faltered.

Josh’s eyes flicked to me, filled with disbelief and fury. “You swore to me! You swore you wouldn’t—” He looked between us, his jaw clenched so tight I thought it might break. “How long?”

His voice cracked on those last two words, and I couldn’t find the strength to answer. I felt frozen in place, my heart racing, panic rising in my throat.

Tyler finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. “Josh, we’ve been together for a while. We didn’t mean to lie to you—”

“A while?” Josh’s voice was shaking now, disbelief mixed with fury. “How long, Tyler?”

Tyler glanced at me, and I knew we couldn’t hide it anymore. “Two years,” he said quietly.

Josh’s face drained of color. He stared at us like we’d ripped his heart out. “Two years? You’ve been lying to me for two fucking years?” His voice rose, cracking at the edges. “You’re my sister. You’re supposed to have my back! I told you not to—”

He stepped forward, his body tense with anger, and instinctively, I flinched. I didn’t even realize I’d done it until he stopped, his eyes widening. For a split second, the anger on his face shifted to something else. 

“You were supposed to stay away from him,” he said, his voice lower now, but still filled with anger. “You knew what this would do to us. And you still…” He trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.

I wanted to explain, to tell him how much I loved Tyler, how this wasn’t some betrayal. But the words wouldn’t come. All I could feel was the crushing weight of Josh’s anger, the way it radiated off him in waves.

“Josh, it’s not like that,” I finally managed to say, my voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. But Tyler—he’s been there for me in ways you wouldn’t understand. I needed him.”

“Needed him?” Josh repeated, his eyes narrowing. “What about me? I’m your brother. I’m supposed to be the one you go to.”

“I–I…” I turned to Tyler before stepping towards Josh, but my legs felt shaky, my chest tightening as the familiar sense of panic started to creep in. I could feel my breath catching, like I couldn’t get enough air. I’d been here before—too many times. I could feel the panic attack coming on, but I didn’t know how to stop it.

Josh’s eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, I saw his anger flicker, replaced by confusion. “What the hell is going on with you?”

“I—” My voice came out strangled, and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, my hands shaking. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. The walls felt like they were closing in.

Tyler was beside me in an instant, his arm around my shoulders, trying to steady me. “Josh, stop. She’s having a panic attack.”

Josh’s face softened with shock, but it was too late. The room was spinning, my heart racing too fast. I couldn’t control it. I could hear Tyler’s voice, calm and steady, trying to guide me through it, but Josh was still standing there, frozen, watching me fall apart.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice barely audible as the tears finally broke free. “I didn’t mean to—”

Tyler’s voice was in my ear, soft and comforting. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just breathe.”

But I wasn’t okay. I couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Josh’s face, the anger and hurt I’d caused. The way he looked at me like I was someone he didn’t even recognize anymore.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I sobbed, trying to get the words out, but they felt empty. “Josh, please…”

“I’m sorry,” Josh said, his voice small now, filled with regret. “I didn’t know—I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

But it didn’t matter anymore. The damage was done. The weight of everything we’d kept hidden, everything we’d tried to protect, had finally come crashing down.

And now, I didn’t know if we could ever put the pieces back together.

Josh left, and the silence he left behind was almost unbearable. Tyler held me, rocking gently as I cried, but even his presence couldn’t fix the shattered pieces of what I’d broken.

After what felt like hours, my sobs finally subsided, leaving me hollow, exhausted.

“He’s going to hate me forever,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

Tyler kissed the top of my head, his voice soft and steady. “He won’t. He’ll need time, but he won’t hate you.”

But I wasn’t sure I believed him.

We sat there, tangled in each other’s arms, the weight of what had happened settling heavily over us. Tyler held me, and I held onto him, but deep down, I knew that some things couldn’t be fixed. Not easily.

Not this time.

//

REQUESTS OPENhttps://i.pinimg.com/474x/4e/50/a5/4e50a56d55f3ad6b3b18a462822b0b8e.jpg

[ananxiousgenz]

COME GET Y'ALLS JUICE I POSTED ANOTHER FIC TODAY

@izel-scribbles for you <3

There was no doubt about it: John was horribly, irrevocably in love with Arthur.

He had been for years. He knew that much now. People tend not to bargain with unknowable beings or repeatedly relive someone’s traumatic death to protect and help someone they couldn’t give a shit about. But he hadn’t reached the conclusion that he really, truly loved Arthur until a few months after their separation, on a lazy Tuesday in their shared apartment.

John had been lying on the couch, listening to some jazz music over the radio while scribbling out ideas for a poem he’d been working on. It was late afternoon, and the light shining through the windows covered everything in echoes of molten gold and fox fur and fire, staining the wallpaper all warm and bright. Specks of dust floated through the streams of it pouring into the room and lit up like stars. It was wonderfully cool outside, in contrast to the fiery sunset, and the breeze that drifted in from the window felt positively delicious in the overheated apartment. Arthur was standing over in the kitchen, starting to cook dinner, and had raised his focus from the pan in front of him to ask John a funny question that he couldn’t recall now. All he could remember was the way Arthur looked when he asked it. 

The light from the kitchen window caught in Arthur’s hair, melting into a glowing halo at the edges, and turned his eyes to a bright, gleaming amber as it gently kissed its way across his scarred face. There was a half-smile on his lips and his eyes were clear and happy as the breeze ruffled his hair. He was radiant and beautiful in a way John had never noticed before, hauntingly perfect and terrifying in the golden hour light. A saint. A memory he wished could be frozen in syrupy, amber light for the rest of his life.

John just stared, mouth slightly ajar as his stomach twisted in something akin to fear. The only thought in his head was I love you, and it was the most confident, most certain, most intense thought he had ever had in his life. And that scared him.

He hadn’t meant for it to happen. No one means to fall in love, he’d learned. But if he truly understood anything about being human, it was that understanding and handling emotions was, to put it lightly, a bitch. Emotions tended to do as they pleased with little regard to logic or plans or circumstances, or the poor, wretched souls which they plagued. 

And he hated it. 

He hated it so much.  

It meant despite his best intentions, John was irrevocably in love with the man whom he had hurt, betrayed, manipulated, and fought with a dozen times over. A man who certainly cared for him, but probably, no, definitely, did not love him. Not like this. John was little more than a monster, a parasite who had sucked the life from Arthur’s eyes and soul and ruined it. 

So, now he would have to tiptoe around his feelings and act like they didn’t exist, because saying them outloud would be a death sentence for their relationship. It couldn’t be that difficult, right? John had been fairly good at keeping his thoughts to himself when he had been inside Arthur’s head. Keeping his thoughts to himself when he was outside Arthur’s head could only be easier.

Looking back, he severely underestimated how difficult it would be.

Every time John thought he’d reached some kind of maximum, that he couldn’t love Arthur any more, something new would come along and he’d go falling all over again. A mannerism he’d never really noticed before, or a new poem Arthur had taken fancy to. He often wondered if humans could die from not talking about what they were feeling, from holding it in and bottling it up and shoving it away. He knew, in one way or another, repressed grief had almost killed Arthur after he lost Faroe. Hopefully, unexpressed love didn’t do the same.

He had to bite back an I love you when Arthur took Faroe to the park again and she, in her high-pitched, small voice, leaned down to the floor of the bridge overlooking the creek and said, “Are you there, troll?” When Arthur cried and assured Faroe that he was fine, just happy, dear. When he listened to her describing the ducks in the pond with the biggest smile John had ever seen grace his face.

He had to swallow I love yous every time Arthur went out for a walk and came back with a surprise of new poetry books for John to read and study.

He almost actually said the dreaded words when Arthur laughed long and hard at a stupid joke he’d made, but just managed to catch himself before the I love you slipped past his lips.

It was to this campaign of suppressed emotions that John was dedicated when he and Arthur found themselves on a walk to the park on a dull, overcast afternoon. Faroe was at school, and Arthur needed a break from his cases before he drove his mind into the damn ground with them, so John decided some exercise would do them both good. Arthur, ever dedicated to his work, had groaned and complained about leaving loose ends unsolved, but nevertheless pulled on his shoes and coat.

They headed out of the apartment, arm in arm, Arthur chuckling good-naturedly at a wry comment John made about his case-solving habits.

“Now, John,” Arthur sighed, a lovely half-smile playing across his lips as they strode down the sidewalk together, “you can’t honestly expect me to not work? Investigative work isn’t exactly regular, but it certainly makes a good deal more money than bartending does.”

“I never said I didn’t want you to work, Arthur. I only said that maybe you were working too much,” John argued. 

“Working too much? I don’t think that’s true. Working too little, well, that seems a bit more likely,” Arthur replied, tilting his head to accentuate his point.

John sighed, and was glad, not for the first time, that Arthur couldn’t see the small, fond smile blossoming across his face. “Arthur, how many hours in the past week have you slept?”

“Well-”

“And how many times have you eaten or drank water without me reminding you?”

“John, I-”

“And exactly how much time have you spent with me or Faroe? Sitting on the couch reading case files while we are nearby does not count.”

“I’m spending time with you right now, you know. Does that count, my dear?” Arthur asked, voice dripping with affectionate sarcasm.

John rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the flutter deep in his stomach at Arthur’s oh-so casual use of a pet name. “Absolutely not. You only came with me because I dragged you out of the house. If I hadn’t forced you, you would have sat at that table until doomsday.”

“I would not!”

“Arthur, you would have!”

“That is simply untrue, John. I very much enjoy taking walks with you. They’re the highlight of my day!”

“You complained from the second you began putting your shoes on about ‘leaving loose ends untied’ and ‘time is money’.”

Arthur sighed dramatically. “Must we fight again?”

“Only if you’re going to continue being such a stubborn ass.”

“Oh come now, you know how a fight will upset the children.”

Arthur sounded like a character from one of those radio dramas Faroe was so fond of listening to, the ones where someone was always getting betrayed or making a shocking new discovery, all loud voices and exaggerated emotions and cheesy acting. John couldn’t help it. Arthur sounded so silly and ridiculous that he snorted.

Arthur paused for a second, and then grinned brighter than the summer sun at noon, clearly egged on by John’s response. “They can’t grow up in an environment like this! Do you have any idea what a divided household will do to their psyches?”

Despite his best efforts to keep it bottled up, a laugh was bubbling up John’s throat, silently shaking his chest with the force of an earthquake.

“John, we’ll simply ruin them if we keep arguing! We must keep the peace! Think of the children, darling! Will no one protect the children?!”

John had given up on trying to hold the laugh back. It exploded out of his chest in a joyous firework burst of sound, rattling through his ribcage and stomach like it was shaking him down for money. Arthur’s bright, sunny laugh joined in shortly after, and John could swear he saw it glittering like a lit sparkler as it weaved itself into the air around them. And then the two of them were laughing, almost hysterically, as they walked, arm in arm down the sidewalk, stumbling and leaning on each other as though they were drunk on happiness. And maybe they were. Could one get drunk on elation? John wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t remember a time when he had felt better in his life. They laughed, and laughed, and laughed, until tears were streaming from both of their faces and John had to pause walking to wipe them away. 

He reached over to Arthur’s face with a gentle hand and wiped the tears away from his face as well. God, he was beautiful. Still shaky with the last few gasps of laughter, with a smile like Faroe’s on Christmas morning, sunny and beaming with joy. John smiled softly as he swiped his thumb over Arthur’s cheekbones. He wanted to hold Arthur’s face for just a moment longer. Just a second. Maybe if he wished hard enough, the moment would never pass, would be encased in amber memory forever, bright and crystalized and unbreakable and beautiful.

But the moment did pass, as all moments do. 

A sudden chorus of soft laughter drew John’s attention away from Arthur and towards a group of young ladies and gentlemen clustered farther up on the sidewalk. They were whispering and giggling to each other as they walked, which wasn’t out of the ordinary for folks of their age. But something about them made the hairs on the back of John’s neck prickle with discomfort. Their laughter and murmurings seemed too… secretive. Too accusatory. They weren’t just chattering among themselves, John realized. They were pointing, too, stealing not-so subtle glances at something they clearly found incredibly amusing. Were they laughing at him? Or Arthur?

John shook his head to clear the thoughts away as he took his hand off Arthur’s face. Maybe they had just seen an amusing film, or someone had told a funny joke about one of the nearby shops. John was just overreacting. It was fine. It had to be fine, even though every instinct he possessed was telling him otherwise. He took Arthur’s arm again and continued walking in the direction of the park. The sooner they made it away from this group, the better he would feel.

A distant roll of thunder shivered through the air as John locked eyes with one young lady whispering into the ear of a friend, who pointed at John and Arthur while snickering in response to her silent comment. John’s stomach twisted in humiliation and fury. 

They were laughing at him and Arthur.

John took a shaky breath in and grit his teeth as he glared at the group passing by. One of the boys stuck out his tongue. Whispers of “fucking queers” and “homosexuals” in venomous tones floated over the breeze and into John’s ears. Another child picked up a small pebble from the sidewalk and threw it in their direction as he passed, hitting John squarely between the shoulders. John froze in his tracks.

The fragment of a god that still lived in his heart wanted to rip them all to shreds, watch them bleed out and suffer on the sidewalk for the crime of daring to laugh at a being so powerful their mortal minds could barely comprehend its edges. He felt so sharp and angry that he wondered if he could spear them all through just by spitting at them. Maybe he could get away with tearing them limb from limb with his bare hands. But part of him didn’t want to start a fight and just wanted to leave as quickly as possible. If he fought, Arthur could get hurt again, and it would be just another way John had ruined his life. That damned bit of humanity that was lodged in his soul wouldn’t let him cause Arthur any more pain (and John was finding that the human part tended to win out these days). He was still for a moment longer, listening to the battle of god and mortal raging in his mind.

And then John, former piece of the King in Yellow, put his head down and walked away, dragging a very confused Arthur with him.

He was crying a bit as they turned the corner he realized, furious tears carving hot, woodburned lines down his face and turning the world into a wobbly, grey mess. He felt so fucking small. So humiliated. And raw. And angry. Over something as stupid as a kid laughing at him. A kid laughing at him had enough power to make him cry? How perfectly fucking ridiculous. It only made him feel worse.

“John? John, what’s wrong?”

Arthur sounded so concerned, so gentle and careful with his words. He always did when John got upset like this. But John stayed silent, jaw locked in place with the force of his fury, like toffee sticking sickly sweet between his teeth. Some part of him was afraid that if he spoke, the words would burst on his tongue like a series of grenades, and the shrapnel would kill him and Arthur both. 

“John. John, please. Please slow down for a minute.”

John just kept walking, making a sharp right into the gates of the park and crunching his way along the gravelly walkway. Before him, trees covered in their late summer leaves dotted across the meadow and near the edge of the pond, which was coated with a thin layer of ducks and frogs and lily pads. The last of the summer wildflowers wobbled in the breeze as thunder grumbled its way overhead, a warning bell for the storm to come, and John wished for a moment he had the foresight to grab an umbrella on his way out of the apartment. It was some small distraction from the clamoring mess of angry emotions all vying for attention in his head. 

“John! For fuck’s sake, will you stop walking and talk to me?!”

John stopped in his tracks. “What do you want, Arthur?” He cringed as the words left his mouth far sharper and more vicious than he had meant them to be.

Arthur’s face was pinched with concern that had mutated into frustration as he took a step forward and glared up in John’s general direction. “What the fuck happened? Why were you rushing off like that?”

“It’s nothing,” John huffed. “I’m fine.”

“No, you are not, and don’t you even fucking think of trying to lie to me.”

John sighed deeply. Damn Arthur’s fucking detective instincts. Damn them all to hell. “I don’t want to talk about it, Arthur. Have you ever considered that?”

“At least give me an idea!”

“Why should I?”

“I’m assuming you saw something I didn’t, and it’s a bit difficult to figure out what is visually wrong when you’re fucking blind, John. So what happened?”

John sat in that stony silence for a moment, staring at Arthur’s determined and frustrated expression. Overhead, the thunder loudly voiced it’s complaints about their conversation, and a few drops of cool rain began to fall.

“Those kids were laughing at us,” John muttered, feeling his face begin to grow hot with embarrassment.

“What?” Arthur asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

“There was a group of kids on the sidewalk that passed us. They were… pointing at us. Laughing to each other.”

“I heard them laughing, yes. That’s what upset you so badly?”

“We needed to leave,” John huffed. “We were at risk.”

“They were kids, John. I don’t think we were in any real danger-”

“They were calling us names! They threw a fucking rock at me!” 

“And that’s what children do! How many times has Faroe thrown a toy at you? Or shredded papers because she was playing pretend?” Arthur shouted, spreading his arms open wide.

“This was different,” John growled, the thunder rumbling in answer to his tone as the rain began to pick up.

“How, John? How was this different?”

“We were in danger! You could have gotten hurt, Arthur!”

“John, for the last fucking time, they were kids. I think I can handle myself around children.”

“I was trying to keep you safe.”

“You don’t need to keep me safe!”

“Yes, I do!”

“WHY?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”

John immediately regretted ever having vocal chords of his own. Arthur was silent. The only sound was the heavy rainfall, thick drops mirroring the sudden, fearful tears sliding down John’s face as he stared in horror at Arthur’s reaction. He seemed frozen, his eyes were blown wide with surprise and mouth open in a small, tight oh. Even as the rain began to soak through his hair and coat, he still looked so fucking beautiful. 

“I love you, Arthur, alright? I can’t- I haven’t been able to say it because I know it would mess everything up. I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time.”

And John couldn’t bear to look at him. At what he had done. He’d just fucked up everything so beautifully, hadn’t he? First he couldn’t stand up for himself (against a group of kids no less), then he admits to being in love with his best friend in the pouring rain, which would give them both a nasty cold if they didn’t get out of it soon, and he would never be able to talk to Arthur normally again without this moment appearing and making everything awkward-

And then Arthur’s hand was on his cheek.

John froze and could have sworn his heart skipped a beat as Arthur’s fingers brushed gently over his features, outlining his eyebrows, his nose, his cheekbones, his lips. This was… unexpected. The look on Arthur’s face was so soft, so tender. Nothing at all like the frustrated explosion it had been only moments before. His amber eyes flicked back and forth across John’s face with no clear point of focus. There was some emotion lurking in them that John couldn’t quite catch. Pain? Longing? He couldn’t tell. Thunder crackled across the sky, accompanied by a flash of purple-white lightning. The rain kept falling. Arthur leaned in like he was going to whisper something in John’s ear, and then hesitated.

And then Arthur’s lips were on his, and it was like the world exploded.

The cold drops of rain were gone, and the thunder nothing more than background noise for the fireworks show happening in John’s head. Everything in the whole wide world was replaced by the warm press of Arthur’s lips on his. Every nerve in his body was alive and sparkling like sunlight dancing across water and Jesus Christ, if this wasn’t what John had wanted for so long, had dreamed about for months on end. It was exactly as perfect as he had imagined it would be, and God, it felt so good to kiss Arthur. So right. So warm and close and beautiful, fucking hell, was this why people kissed each other? To feel like this? John had been missing out, hadn’t he? 

Arthur pulled away first and pressed his forehead to John’s. “Always so dramatic,” he murmured with a smile.

John’s brain was short-circuiting. There were thoughts scrambling around his head so rapidly it was difficult to simply pick one to voice aloud. “I- wait. You- you don’t hate me?”

Arthur chuckled. “No, you absolute idiot. Or else I wouldn’t have kissed you.”

“I- you kissed me…” John said through a daze. He half wondered if his legs would be able to keep him upright for the time it would take them to walk back to the apartment. Currently, they seemed to be about the consistency of jelly, and the rain making the path under their feet slippery wasn’t exactly helping matters.

“In case the kiss didn’t make it clear, I… I love you too, John. I have for a long time,” Arthur said softly, running his fingers along John’s jaw. “Thank you for looking out for me, darling. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I was just trying to understand.”

John was glad yet again that Arthur couldn’t see the giddy grin and blush that had taken over his face when Arthur said the word “darling”. He probably looked fairly stupid, but he could care less. Arthur loved him, too. Arthur felt the same way. Jesus Christ Almighty, Arthur had just kissed him.

“Uh huh,” John breathed, trying not to completely fall over. “Yeah. Okay.”

Arthur chuckled a bit. “Did you think I didn’t feel the same way?”

“I- Well, how was I supposed to know?! I’m not a mindreader!”

“Christ, John, you can be dense sometimes, can’t you? I think it has been fairly obvious that I am in love with you.”

“Obvious to you! I’m sorry your uptight English nature isn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world to read,” John said, rolling his eyes affectionately.

“Hey now, my ‘uptight English nature’ has gotten us both out of plenty of scrapes and you know it,” Arthur replied, a sunny grin gracing his face. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, keep talking about how your pretty face has saved us all,” John said with a sigh.

“You think my face is pretty?”

John froze for a moment before he grabbed Arthur’s arm and turned sharply on his heel in the direction of the park gates. “Let’s go before we both catch pneumonia!”

“John, you didn’t answer my question,” Arthur said in a sing-song voice, falling into step beside John as they began to make their way home.

John sighed heavily. “Yes, Arthur, I think your face is pretty. Oh, wipe that smug grin off. Have a little mercy on me.”

“Who’s grinning?” Arthur asked, smiling from ear to ear like the damn Chesire cat from Faroe’s books.

John rolled his eyes again. It was going to be a long, lovely walk back to the apartment.

[orbmanson7]

Will Logan Ever Be Happy?

An Extensive Analysis of Logan Sanders' Spotify Playlist and Predictions for the Future of His Character Arc

Logan's Playlist on Spotify

Logan's Playlist on YouTube Music

A few quick notes before we delve in…

This is an extensive analysis in the sense that it's currently around 16,930 words long. Please feel free to read it at your own leisure.

The description of Logan's Playlist on Spotify explicitly states to listen to these songs in order of their listing. This indicates a progression of sorts – of feelings, events, and the plot of the story being told here. It is important that we listen in order, and it seems like Logan would prefer us to listen this way to best understand what it is he is trying to convey.

The repeated themes found throughout many of these songs include: isolation, depression, regret, nostalgia, perfectionism, miscommunication, being the odd one out of a group, recognition of flaws, loss of control, being disliked, a love and familiarity for learning, and finding solutions to problems.

It should also be noted that a handful of these songs are told in second-person perspective, using “you” to indicate a main subject, as though the story is being told by the speaker about someone else’s actions to that someone else, rather than explaining anything outright about themself or how they feel about it. By doing this, the speaker is instead choosing to focus on others and only allowing the listener to sense and interpret how the speaker was affected by what the other party in the song had said or done. This by itself can easily indicate Logan’s insistence to let others take that stage, even when it’s his turn to tell his story, or to show off the faults of others in lieu of focusing on his own failings.

It may be important to remember that as we continue.

The Elements by Tom Lehrer is a simple starter song, as we know. Logan began as a friendly teacher character, someone to help guide Thomas through learning and encouraging curiosity and wonder within him. He helped Thomas to find solutions to problems with the most useful answers, and implored him to keep trying, keep researching, until he truly understood a topic. This was something good, something commendable.

In particular, this song involves a listing of the complete periodic table of elements, something that Logan, as Thomas’ Logic, likely would have to have known very well, considering the focus of Thomas’ major in college. This would have been information Logan used frequently in Thomas’ studies and schoolwork prior to the events of the series, which helps to signify this early interpretation of Logan’s character.

This is the early beginnings. It’s a solid starting point, telling us what we need to know about Thomas’ perception of who he believes Logan is meant to be.

Immediately after, we have White and Nerdy by Weird Al Yankovic, which, similar to the first song, is meant to give us a sense of Logan’s character. Thomas sees him as a helpful teacher, but he also sees him as a very nerdy, reserved, uptight, and pretentious kind of person who likes learning trivia and reading mystery novels and watching sci-fi shows and doing puzzles and making wordplay jokes. This fleshes Logan out more as a character, not just showing us who Thomas sees but giving us more perspective on what to expect from him.

[lyrics:

I wanna roll with the gangsters

But so far, they all think I’m too white and nerdy]

Early on in the series, the sides only appeared momentarily to help offer suggestions and advice to Thomas relevant to what he needed. There seemed to be less cohesion with the group, mainly due to a lack of narrative at the time, but the sides still appeared to work together so long as each stayed in their respective areas of expertise. Despite that, lyrics in this song seem to imply Logan had already seen himself as an outlier to the rest of Thomas’ sides. He recognized that this came at fault of the interpretation of his character, the personality he displayed, his mannerisms, even his interests.

From the very start, Logan was being viewed as something different and distinct in comparison to the other sides.

These first two songs are meant to be reminiscent of not only our first impressions of Logan’s character, but also of Thomas’ overall impression of him early on in the series.

Within the first few episodes, this is how Logan was interpreted and seen, as a nerdy but supportive teacher-like character. Based on Thomas’ vine character of the same attire, Logan was originally meant to be respected but relatable, someone who could understand the kids he was teaching, but was also full of incredibly useful knowledge and knew exactly how to convey that information in a way that would encourage and enlighten those around him.

As one of Thomas’ sides, however, he was minimized to only being Thomas’ Logic, someone who still had an incredible wealth of knowledge and used it to teach and guide Thomas specifically, but he was also someone who was meant to be more stereotypically “nerdy” by Thomas’ standards. He was still able to act as an instructor to Thomas and to the audience watching, but his status of authority was diminished, because now he was no longer a teacher, he was merely another part of Thomas.

This is where Algorhthym by Childish Gambino comes into play. This song indicates a recognition of the world and how it functions, but also a fear to do anything about it, to step out of line. This lends to Logan’s perfectionism, yes, but it also shows that Logan is highly aware of his position as Thomas’ Logic, and what is expected of him. He knows very well that he does not perfectly fit the mold that Thomas has made for him to fill.

Early in the song, there are mentions of misunderstanding directions and testing the waters in objectionable ways.

[lyrics:

Made us the guinea pig and did it with no permission

Told her to call a friend, didn’t tell her to listen

So very scary, so binary, zero or one

Like code is like coal mine canary]

Being put in a position without a choice in the matter, Logan is very aware that he has a big role to fulfill. He’s being depended on to do his job right. But there has, at no point, been any guidance for him to follow. It’s not as though there’s a training manual out there on how to be Thomas Sanders’ Logic, which means Logan can only attempt to figure it out as he goes along.

Now, this is no different from the other sides, as they all lack any kind of instruction on how to do their jobs, either. They all just have to make mistakes and learn from them to improve and get better with time. And, typically, this should be a good thing, but in Logan’s particular case, his job requires him to be relied upon as the one with the answers and solutions, so if he’s seen as someone who makes mistakes, that ruins his ability to be trusted to give those answers in the first place.

Making mistakes would contradict his purpose as Thomas’ Logic, but if he didn’t make mistakes, he couldn’t learn from them and get better like the rest of them. However, it’s inevitable that he will make mistakes because he has no idea how to do this job because he didn’t have any training involved before he started. But if he makes mistakes, he could lose that job, or the job itself could become misconstrued or defunct due to his failures. It’s an unpleasant and repeated cycle with no clear end.

Logan aims for perfection, knowing the risk of failure is so high and comes with such consequence, but he still has hope that something might work out. He also doesn’t seem to have much of a choice otherwise.

But he's already beginning to loop back around in circles over this, even so early on into the series, and this leads him to questioning why the world works this way. Just why does it contradict itself so much?

[lyrics:

I dream in color, not black and white]

He already realizes that he is seeing everything in a different way than Thomas and the other sides do. The world is so much bigger than the arbitrary parameters that are being set for it. Understanding and learning may need rigid guidelines to teach a beginner, to not overwhelm them, but once you know the basics, you can take those training wheels off and start exploring just about anywhere. If you want to try more adventurous feats, you’ll need better gear, more specified knowledge, but it’s not as though you are barred from entry. There is always more to learn, you simply have to go looking for it.

But the world somehow seems to think that’s not the case. Many believe that you either know something or you don’t, or that things can only be either one way or another, with no nuance involved. Instead of understanding all the shades of gray and color in between every moment, every idea, that there’s fluidity and the ability to shift and change at almost every turn, they choose to rely on what they’ve already learned and refuse to challenge it, even when the opportunity arises to do so. The world has so much more to offer than the black-and-white to which people often cling.

There’s so much space in between every atom, infinite amounts of empty air, that which we can barely comprehend, yet we see an object, a person, or any full form as completely solid, contradicting what we expect. We may say a penguin cannot fly, and yet you could put one as a passenger on an airplane and that could be considered flying. It has just done what was thought impossible. It is all about our perspective and the rules we set in place for our world that limits what we believe we know and understand, but that doesn’t mean that’s how the world actually works.

Unfortunately, changing someone’s mind can be very difficult, especially when you’re the one who contributed to them learning those basics to help them conceptualize the topic in the first place. It can be very hard to teach someone that knowledge is genuinely limitless, especially when they have found less use for it as time goes on and no longer have a desire to keep learning.

The song then indicates that the way a human behaves doesn’t always make logical sense, but that they value their life and experiences.

[lyrics:

Humans don’t understand, humans will sell a lie

Humans gotta survive, we know we gon’ die

Nothing can live forever, you know we gon’ try

Life, is it really worth it? The algorhythm is perfect, mmh]

Logan can comprehend this notion, even if he doesn’t quite understand and see the world in the same way as Thomas does; even if he believes some of his actions are illogical, he knows Thomas’ ability to live his life to the fullest is something memorable. He can recognize its importance overall, even if he doesn’t fully agree with how it’s done.

Logan likely comes to realize by this point, even so early on, that compromise is the best option here, just as we saw in the episode The Mind vs The Heart. Even if he doesn’t see things in the same way as others, he can still meet someone halfway, and hope that they can meet him halfway in return.

However, nothing is ever that easy, it seems. Just because he’s willing to step back and take another’s perspective into account does not mean others will do the same for him.

This more or less encapsulates the rest of the song from his perspective. He learns to stop challenging that which doesn’t want to be challenged, attempts to follow what is expected of him, even if what is expected of him is a perfection that he is unsure can even be achieved. He has to compromise some of these details and nuances so that the world can still run on its bizarre rules, for Thomas’ sake, and this results in him having to step away from his goals to make way for the others’ instead, or even to be pushed away when his insistence to the contrary isn’t appreciated, like we saw in the episode Moving On Pt 1: Exploring Nostalgia.

He learned fairly well that day that sometimes emotions took priority over intelligence, and even if Logan didn’t fully comprehend the purpose they served in solving that dilemma, he was attempting to find a proper answer that would be of benefit to Thomas regardless. But what he learned instead was that his efforts were unwanted simply because he was viewing the situation from a very different perspective than the others were.

As such, he began to learn not to question these parameters that the world operates upon. He needs to do what he can Within those parameters to ensure Thomas’ survival and simply hope that he’ll thrive with knowledge (and Logan) as his guide.

And that is exactly why the next song is Fitter Happier by Radiohead. The whole song is a monotonous text-to-speech vocalization of varying guidelines one may expect for someone to appear as and/or be human. As the list goes on, the more inhuman the stipulations become, betraying the real purpose behind the list, that this is someone attempting to appear perfectly human while misunderstanding what that means entirely.

Again, Logan was never given a guide on how to do his job, so he had to just make it up as he went along and attempt to do it perfectly without any help or reassurance. From Logan’s perspective, he knows his goal is to make sure Thomas survives to live his happy life, but his expertise in helping Thomas achieve this relies on knowledge and facts, not emotions or empathy. This results in Logan’s attempts coming off as unempathetic, cold, and strict, not to mention completely missing the point of living.

But because he is doing this solo, and because he has awareness of the consequences of failure, he is aiming for perfection and doing his best with what resources he does have – which happens to be his own intelligence and what he can learn through research. Unfortunately, when it comes to life and living, Logan’s limited only to the facts, and his primary focus is Thomas’ survival, nothing more.

[lyrics:

Not drinking too much

Regular exercise at the gym, three days a week

Getting on better with your associate employee contemporaries

At ease

Eating well, no more microwave dinners and saturated fats

A patient, better driver]

This is why some of the lyrics list guidelines such as “regular exercise at the gym” or “eating well, no more microwave dinners and saturated fats.” These are the types of recommendations you would hear from a doctor or nutritionist, examples of efforts that may result in longer life. If someone only cared about extending their life or living healthily, these would be excellent suggestions. But when they are devoid of any emotion, removed from relationships with family and friends, absent of aspirations and goals for someone to enjoy said life, the suggestions instead become robotic and inhuman. Yes, you can live longer by following these steps, but you may not enjoy the extra time you are given to do so if you only follow these suggestions and nothing more.

This is something that was discussed during the Why Do We Get Out of Bed in the Morning? episode, where Logan asserts that creating a balance of daily tasks to maintain his wellbeing will allow Thomas to live a long life. Roman argues that if Thomas spends all his time taking care of himself, it doesn’t give him enough time to pursue his dreams and he insists that he must instead take risks and give priority to his aspirations. In the end, Thomas found his motivation in a balance of both of these recommendations, that he should maintain his health while also taking the chance to achieve his goals.

While a human genuinely needs that balance, to have both sides of this argument included to find true motivation to keep going, these individual sides within Thomas are always likely to see their own mindset and opinion on the matter as the priority, as the “right” way to do things. This is exemplified by Patton’s addition during the end credits scene, where he offers his opinion on the topic about having the opportunity to add positivity to the world. His belief is only an addition to the discussion and wouldn’t detract from Logan and Roman’s suggestions, but it shows that each of Thomas’ sides have their own views on what the real answer is meant to be and that they do not agree on this notion, even if they do see eye-to-eye at times or are willing to work together for Thomas’ sake.

This song is likely meant to remind us of that episode specifically, and what Logan’s opinions on the matter were at that time, indicating his goal is for Thomas to maintain a balanced and healthy lifestyle so that he has the ability to survive and live a long life. It shows us that without the others, there is a lack of balance, but it also shows that Logan is striving for perfection, with special regard to Thomas’ needs, not necessarily his wants or desires. After all, that’s Roman’s department, right?

And this is a big factor in why the sides don’t often get along with each other. They each have their own idea of what is actually best for Thomas, and when it comes to Logan, he has an easier time arguing his points because he has all the data to back him up. This doesn’t keep the others from fighting against him, nor does it keep Thomas from taking the others’ side anyway on many occasions, but it’s still something he can rely on when everyone else is against him.

But even if he cares about Thomas’ survival most, is what he’s proposing truly the “right” way to go about it?

If he learned anything from Why Do We Get Out of Bed in the Morning?, the ending of this song may indicate he recognizes that Thomas may well live a long life with his suggestions, but would not necessarily be happy in that life, so perhaps perfection isn’t the right goal to have in mind.

Happiness, however, can be very subjective. For instance, happiness to Logan would likely involve the satisfaction of a job well done, or the opportunity to learn something new, so what would life for Thomas be if he couldn’t have that?

This is what leads us into the next song, Medicine by STRFKR, which continues the thoughts on perfectionism and the problems that arise from it. Perhaps due to the events associated with the last song, Logan has come to realize that the goal of being perfect is either truly unattainable or, as this song seems to suggest, prevents the desire to continue learning once reached. Logan, of course, would not want Thomas to have peaked when it comes to obtaining knowledge, as there will always be something you don’t know, there will always be something new to learn. If perfection removes a desire to know more, he wouldn’t be able to encourage Thomas to learn anything new, even something for his survival. As such, his goal of perfection is flawed.

However, this now completely conflicts with his earlier notions about his own aspirations of perfection, as he must be knowledgeable and helpful for Thomas, to provide him with what he needs without flaw, without failure. He must be perfect, but perfection is not possible. He must be perfect, but perfection begets disinterest and prevents further learning. So, perfection should not be his goal because it will be of overall detriment to Thomas.

His new goal needs to be something else, but he must still maintain something as close to perfection as possible, because Thomas’ perception of him cannot be altered. Thomas will still expect perfection of him, but he can never truly attain it because it’s both impossible and would ultimately remove his purpose to Thomas as Logic. Such a feat is even more difficult to achieve than perfection, so he’s very much stuck at this point and will need to figure out a new solution to this complicated problem.

[lyrics:

Sorry

So helpless

So help you

Any way you like]

When in doubt, Logan knows he can turn to one thing: Thomas’ preference on the matter. If Logan can’t decide on the best course of action, he will instead choose whatever it is that Thomas wants, as that is how he may obtain his happiness even when working with a less-than-perfect Logic.

After all, if perfection was not the true goal, then perhaps it was meant to be whatever Thomas wanted instead. Logan didn’t need to reach perfection, he just needed to reach Thomas’ expectations. The goalpost had moved, but it was still in sight, and now he’d just have to create a new strategy in order to find success, meaning it was time for some experimentation to his approach.

[lyrics:

(spoken behind music)

The following of them does not depend on believing in anything, in obeying anything, or on doing any specific rituals

Although rituals are included for certain purposes because it is a purely experimental approach to life]

Between the events of Why Do We Get Out of Bed in the Morning? and Learning New Things About Ourselves was a fun little promo episode known as Crofter's: The Musical, and while it may not seem all that relevant in the grand scheme of things, it’s important to remember the focus of the episode relied on Logan’s extraordinary adoration of Crofter's jam.

Given his love for the product, he was ecstatic at his opportunity to be recognized through that which he admired – by being featured on a specialized version of the product itself. It’s a high honor, it’s respectable, it’s cherished. This is a great moment for Logan, seeing a lot of his efforts come to fruition in an interesting and unique way.

However, it is soured by Roman’s bruised ego, as he prefers his spotlight and sees this one moment as Logan being viewed more favorably than him overall, and then it is further ruined by the mention of Logan’s wordplay and puns throughout the episode as him acting unusual, notably unserious. Logan becomes rather concerned during the end credits scene as the others point this out about him, and he realizes that he needs to maintain the status quo after all.

His experimentation in finding a balance, of what was acceptable and what was not, resulted in him understanding that he could not engage in sillier interests publicly so as not to alter the others’ perception of him and his purpose to Thomas or tarnish his reputation as a practical, reliable, knowledgeable side. He must continue to keep emotions removed from his position as Logic, even with perfection off the table as a motivating factor.

Now, before we move on to the next song, I want to re-establish whereabout in the timeline of the series we are by this point.

We had the early origins near the start with The Elements song and White and Nerdy, which likely took place somewhere within the first couple episodes that featured Logan. We dipped into Algorhythm, which likely took place around the time the actual plot and deeper characterization began appearing in the show, somewhere between The Mind vs The Heart and Moving On Pt 1 & 2. Then, Fitter Happier seems to strike some similar chords as the episode Why Do We Get Out of Bed in the Morning? from Logan’s perspective alone, meaning we’re fairly far into the series already. Medicine is somewhere around Crofters: The Musical, which means we are about to get to Learning New Things About Ourselves.

That was an episode that definitely served as a big turning point for Logan and how he readdressed his role as Thomas’ Logic and perceived how he was meant to fulfill his position.

This is also the point in the playlist where things seem to take a much darker and negative turn.

For now, we move on to the next song, which is The Watchtower by The Dø.

Now, @intrulogical has a great analysis of the meaning that may be associated with this song from Logan’s perspective, that Logan may overthink and prefer to hide away from others out of shame when he doesn’t perform adequately, that he recognizes his mistakes and has, on multiple occasions, offered to leave the discussion in order to benefit the others and Thomas. He has taken to suggesting his removal from the situation when he doesn’t seem to have the solution they need or when he has become emotional in times where he shouldn’t be, meaning that he has come to realize it may be a better option for him to leave, rather than stay and potentially make the situation worse.

We already know that he has come to understand perfection is not possible but must still maintain something akin to it, feeling shame when mistakes are inevitable. We know he experimented with his approach to no avail, where he learned he must remain emotionless and cold to be successful. The amount of stress from trying to meet expectations, maintain restrictions, and adapt himself for the others’ benefit is beginning to take its toll on him.

The Watchtower is a song that seems to suggest Logan’s methods are what make him a true outlier among the group, but the lyrics literally start out with “I’m breaking, I need another start” which would mean this is a reaction to his stressful situation, not an action Logan chose in advance.

But he is still prepared when reacting like this. He has weighed the options; he has taken past experiences into account. He has more knowledge now on how to be Thomas’ Logic in a way that fits Thomas’ expectations, and he is no longer blindly attempting to do his best without failure and is instead using what failures he’s already had to recontextualize his understanding and guide his next actions.

But he still needs to appear as flawless as he possibly can, for Thomas and the others, so that he still embodies his role as Logic, so that he can still be relied on and trusted to do his job. While he recognizes perfection is not possible, he will still get as close to it as he can.

While stress may be a factor, this may explain some of the true motivation behind his desire to hide away in these moments, or at least his belief that it would be easier to solve these dilemmas from farther away.

[lyrics:

From the watchtower

Where we can see things coming

Good or bad, at least we see things coming

From the watchtower

Where we can read the future

Whatever it says, at least we know what’s up]

Within these lyrics, we can see that this is a very divorced perspective to have, as though Logan prefers to solve issues from a distance, removed from the situation itself and able only to view it, not directly interact with the parties involved.

Using his influence on Thomas to solve the issue without being present in Moving On Pt 2 after he abruptly left in Moving On Pt 1, Logan has shown that he can be successful when he isn’t there to be talked over and insulted, be overwhelmed by everyone’s emotions and concerns, or have his own uncontrolled emotional outbursts. He can stay unbiased, practical, and clear-headed from a distance and achieve the best results.

This explains why he attempted to leave after his outburst in the episode Learning New Things About Ourselves, because he had seen prior success in doing so.

However, it’s clear that there are some consequences to this approach.

[lyrics:

I don’t mind

if I’m impopular

I’m thinking

And no one in particular]

Another repeated notion throughout the series that Logan is now well aware of is that he is not very well liked. While this seems to stem from a combination of the expectations put on him and his stricter handling of the others’ more outlandish ideas, at this point, and the lyrics suggest he tries to make it seem as though it doesn’t bother him. But we know otherwise, because Logan does continue to attempt to garner favor from Thomas, the other sides, and the audience. It’s why he picked up the slang word flashcards, and it’s partly why he tries to use more relatable metaphors and analogies to explain complicated subjects. He does want to be liked, respected, and Heard, even if he claims otherwise.

His attempts to remove himself from the group to benefit Thomas and perform his duties from afar only seem to add to this dislike that’s been building for him. His absence prevents him from building and maintaining any relationship with the other sides (not that he was making much progress with that around that time in the series regardless). When he has his outburst in Learning New Things About Ourselves and tries to then leave the discussion entirely, he is quickly stopped by Patton who insists he stay instead. He would have preferred to leave, knowing he was more beneficial to Thomas if he was unemotional. Unfortunately, because he stays, he is unable to resolve the issue for Thomas like he had before, and instead spent the rest of the episode uncomfortable and unable to relate to the emotional concepts that were applied.

He comes away from that situation recognizing his own misunderstanding of the others’ actions in their attempts to help Thomas, but there is no solution found, only a slight improvement to Thomas’ mood about the discussion on the whole. And on Logan’s part, he was also left without a solution, resulting in him adding this as another failure to his list and believing that he will need to do more to better accommodate the other sides and Thomas’ emotions in order to achieve the best results.

[lyrics:

I’m breaking

I need another start

Far away from the city lights]

This follows the lyrics at the end of the song, repeating exactly how it started. Nothing was resolved here; Logan only sees his mistake and feels ashamed for it. He still wants to solve Thomas’ issues from a distance, but now he’s more aware of the emotional stakes that he hadn’t been implementing in his solutions before this point.

He has decided that he’ll do better, but he isn’t sure how to do that exactly, and he’s still hurting, but that’s left unacknowledged.

And Logan only comes to realize that the others are pulling away after this, as we see in Selfishness vs Selflessness, where he wasn't included in the courtroom scenario and pushed to the back and out of the way after the one moment where he could be helpful.

Logan can see that this is what Thomas and the others want for him, to stay out of their way, because he apparently can't understand them in the way they prefer. Never mind the fact that the inverse is true, too.

And that leads us to the next song, The Breach by clipping.. At a minimum, this song is very concerning, but also a helpful indicator as to what seems to be happening and possibly even why.

[lyrics:

Generally operating normally

A small anomaly has become evident

And probably should be noted]

In simple terms, something has changed, and likely not for the better. Something is different.

If we’re aware of the timeline of the story, this is sometime after the episode Learning New Things About Ourselves, which means it's likely about Remus’ arrival in Dealing with Intrusive Thoughts and how it signifies Thomas’ declining mental health.

Something specific that should be mentioned about this song first is its lyrics. They are read as a computer observing a situation, assessing the variables, and stating plainly the solution to be enacted by others. This is similar to what Logan was able to successfully do in Moving On Pt 2 and would have preferred to use as his approach in Learning New Things About Ourselves, which is to stay distant from the situation itself but address everything calmly and without emotional disruption.

However, the lyrics are also given in very quick succession, indicating a hastiness to the necessity of these instructions. This could mean that if the subject does not act swiftly, the results may not be optimal.

[lyrics:

First: the recommended course of action should be to

Administer a sedative to all the cargo via ventilation

The ship is fully capable of automating this

But requires an approval code from the administration]

As he learned in Learning New Things About Ourselves, Logan has to better accommodate the other sides’ emotions (as well as Thomas’) and their concerns on the matter in order to competently resolve the issue, so appearing and calmly explaining what needs to be done is the approach he chose. But that didn’t work out at first due to the same issues he’s been having this whole time, which is everyone’s reluctance to listen to him as well as their insistence on keeping him out of the group, especially while they are all so emotional themselves in that moment.

In order for this to work, he would need to convince Thomas and the others to trust him and to listen to what he had to say. In reality, Logan can only give them the advice they need here, he can’t actually fix it for them, hence the lyric, “but requires an approval code from the administration.” They can’t logic their way out of this but using logic can guide them away from the overly emotional response and provide the instructions needed to find that solution.

Logan applies the instructions from the song – administer a sedative? Calm the others back down. The importance of alacrity? Speak with confidence, stay positive. Send security immediately? Logan took charge of the situation at hand because no one else was handling it.

Logan keeps himself level-headed, refuses to show any emotional response (not to Remus, not to Virgil, not to Patton), and displays his worth as Thomas’ Logic to the best of his ability. And it works fairly well, as he manages to calm the other sides and Thomas down while also warding Remus off and tiring him out. It took longer than he probably expected, but he accomplished what he had set out to do.

Despite the end of the song sounding like an electric-powered warzone, the episode Dealing with Intrusive Thoughts had ended on a positive note for Logan, as he was praised by Thomas for being cool, with how he handled the situation so smoothly and didn’t let anything affect him. This marked a success for Logan, and he now knows that addressing situations with swift action, getting right to the point while also allowing for the other parties to vent their feelings on the matter, and staying composed and unemotional himself while addressing the problem was the best course of action, at least while Thomas was in this type of mindset and far more stressed than he had been in the past.

Perhaps he really has finally figured out how to be a proper Logic for Thomas after all.

Unfortunately, whatever elation he had in that episode doesn’t last long, as our next song, Letter C by Zach Sherwin, is all about being embarrassed by others and reflecting back on the situation later to think of something cleverer that could have been said in response.

As this is something he has dealt with a handful of times in the series as a whole, Logan wishing he could have thought up a better comeback to the others’ insults in the moment is not unheard of, and it could easily be inferred that he’s done this type of reflection on his own many times.

[lyrics:

And now it’ll linger forever but I’ve been stewin’ over

What I’d say to him if I could do it over]

The song lyrics mention how this situation lingers, that it’s something Logan thinks about repeatedly, even though we know there have been multiple moments like this. He remembers it for a long time, he thinks back on each one, wishing he could have done something more when he had the chance.

This is a moment more steeped in pride than obligation to his duty as Logic, however. While his desire to be viewed as clever and informed comes from the expectations of him as Thomas’ Logic, his desire to be respected as Better than the other sides in this particular way does not.

As was told in Learning New Things About Ourselves, it seems Logan habitually criticizes the others and becomes more standoffish in response to stress and a lack of order, as though the lack of control in a situation supercedes his judgement on how to behave among the other sides. In attempt to regain that control, he tries to place himself and his importance in the matter above others, which only causes additional problems.

In reality, all the sides should be balancing each other out, but the system currently in place is not balanced at all, and we often see sides like Logan further down the ranks than others on a regular basis. This can explain his desire to level it back out or rise even higher, to prove that he should be listened to and respected, and he could easily convince himself that his reason for this desire stems from his necessity to Thomas as opposed to any correlated feelings of shame or pride.

Thomas needs his logical side, someone to act as his voice of reason when the others are too emotional and rowdy, someone to provide unbiased facts instead of the others’ leaning opinions, someone that he can trust to always be in his corner and do what’s best for him every time. While the others turn Thomas’ gaze to the future or the past, Logan does everything he can to keep him steady in the present, so long as Thomas actually listens.

Logan had spent a lot of time to change and be better for Thomas, to meet and exceed his expectations. He adapted his thoughts, his methods, his temperament, all to best accommodate Thomas and his needs. So, it makes a lot of sense that he’d have a lot left unsaid after everything he has tolerated throughout the series. He wishes he could have the respect he believes he’s owed instead of continuing to endure insults left and right, but for now, he can only make up such scenarios where he comes out on top in his mind.

A moment of respite comes with what's next on the playlist, Galaxy Song from Monty Python (as sung by Stephen Hawking), which has a delightful message of enjoying the wonder found in our universe. There’s already so much to learn on our planet, but there’s endlessly more available to us out in the rest of the ever-expanding universe.

The song jabs at the inevitable stupidity of some people but chooses not to complain or find a way to be better than them. Instead, one should choose to refocus on something positive, to distract themself rather than to dwell on it. It’s better to think about something you enjoy rather than something you hate, right? And this makes it seem as though it’s a response to the last song in this way, that Logan has dealt with another insult or stressful situation and was unable to respond in the way he preferred, so now he’s choosing to ignore it and think about something fascinating to pass his time in a healthier and nonjudgmental way. Ignoring the situation is no better than stewing over it, but at least this way he gets to think about something he appreciates.

Neither of these songs seem to have a particular place in the overall storyline from the series, by the way. They seem to embody multiple similar occurrences over the course of the show, indicating that this has happened before, continues to happen, and will likely keep happening in the future. However, it’s not a great situation to repeatedly have to handle, especially if Logan is still as stressed as we know he is, and if he simply keeps permitting it to happen without speaking up properly about why it bothers him, then it will never change.

The next song, Streaks, is itself a very interesting song that embodies a lot of nostalgia, both good and bad, that Logan holds about his past with Thomas – teaching him, helping him study, guiding his path through school and college. Sadly, we know that Thomas proceeded to let his Chemical Engineering degree collect dust so he could instead pursue an acting career and become a successful Youtuber as an adult. To Logan, these more creative interests overtook his studies and Thomas’ potential for a stable and well-earning career.

[lyrics:

All these years of filling out papers

Building a future

Keeping your head down

Tryin’ to keep a head on your shoulders

Keep it creative

Make it your own somehow]

From these lyrics, we can see the inclusion of creativity as a secondary to getting the work done, showing something that was discussed in Why Do We Get Out of Bed in the Morning? as Logan proposed that Thomas maintaining a healthy lifestyle and doing his work tasks needed to take priority over creative pursuits and aspirations. This could imply that, during Thomas’ school years, Logan may have had a lot more say in what Thomas should do to be successful in his classes and to get into college, and that he didn’t turn away Thomas’ interest in creativity but preferred it to not take priority over his schoolwork.

But, as we know, what may have started as a creative outlet soon grew into a genuine interest and then a full acting career that negated the entire point of all of Logan’s hard work. If Thomas had wanted to be an actor or a Youtuber all along, why did Logan put so much effort into getting Thomas to study, to do his work, to get into college, to earn his degree? He couldn’t even be proud of such an accomplishment because it served no purpose to Thomas as an adult. It didn’t signify anything except wasted effort on Logan’s part.

[lyrics:

Throw ‘em in the water

Let ‘em sink or float

Give ‘em what they need to move on

Then you let them go]

This sounds like something you’d hear from a parent watching their child grow up and move onto adulthood and pursue their own life away from the family home.

Logan had done his part, he taught and guided Thomas in everything he needed to know in order to achieve success. And when it came time for Thomas to follow through, he proceeded to veer off to a completely different path and Logan could do nothing but watch it happen. Thankfully, though, Thomas Had found success, just not in a way that Logan had expected.

He hadn’t even prepared for this type of eventuality – it was unknown territory.

But Logan could adapt, he could make this work. He’d shown he was able to overcome past obstacles, and he found ways to implement research and education into Thomas’ creative career, giving him an opportunity to still learn something new. He just needed to stay relevant and keep Thomas’ interest and continue encouraging him to learn. However, that proved much harder to do when Thomas refused to listen to him.

Thomas had grown to require much less from Logan over time, having moved away from the days of tests and studying to bigger and better adventures. It left Logan with very little to do for Thomas but maybe to appear when he had no one else to turn to.

It was as though it wasn’t just Thomas’ degree that he’d placed up on a shelf to collect dust, but Logan, too. To stay tucked away, unused for years, only ever coming in handy for very specific situations and nothing but an embarrassment or eyesore in others. What use could he possibly have anymore? Why should Thomas be proud of him when he didn’t need him for anything?

Now, if you’ve noticed, these past few songs seem to lean more heavily toward emotions than the ones that came before them. Letter C was about embarrassment and feeling shame over his mistakes and how he’s been treated, trying to use his pride to combat it. The Galaxy Song was about relief and ignoring the situation to escape to wonder and curiosity as a coping mechanism. And now Streaks is about nostalgia, the wistful longing for what once was, and the painful memory of what came of that despite all his effort.

He’s embarrassed, he’s running away from the problem, he’s sad.

You see, Logan is trying to find a solution here by using something similar to what the other sides might try when they are the ones struggling. He’s copying their methods. Roman leans on his pride to sooth his ego and to make himself feel better, Virgil runs away and hides from his issues, and Patton delves into nostalgia and strengthens his sadness, feeling it deeply.

This implies that Logan doesn’t quite understand how to handle whatever it is that he is feeling, but he's paid close enough attention to what the others have done, even if he doesn't understand why or how it's meant to help. Now that he's searching for some sort of solution on his own, he experiments, tries something new based upon his research and facts, rather than asking for any kind of help.

Remember, he can’t tarnish his image as a near-flawless Logic that is supposed to already know everything, who they’re supposed to be able to rely on. So, he will have to solve this one on his own, too, by just trying things out until he eventually gets it right. That is what the experimental approach is for, after all.

But these emotional songs are only the beginning, and they’re about to take a stark turn.

Next is What I Do For U by Ra Ra Riot, which is a song absolutely steeped in frustration and anger. In so few lyrics, it says a lot of what Logan has been mulling over lately in the storyline. We know his frustration over everything has been building more and more.

[lyrics:

I want you to survive

Anything you need]

This song gets right to the point with its opening lyrics and even the chorus. It tells us that Logan’s efforts, all these recommendations to Thomas, all the schedules and planning, all this encouragement for him to eat healthy and take better care of himself, all his guidance and advice and helpfulness serve one purpose and one purpose alone – to help Thomas survive.

[lyrics:

What I do for you

I do for you]

Everything he does, he does for Thomas.

But does Thomas recognize that? It doesn’t seem so.

And this, of course, bothers Logan. It doesn’t just bother him, it angers him. Logan has put in so much of his time and energy over the years into doing everything perfectly for Thomas, with no help in doing so this entire time. Prioritizing Thomas’ wellness over everything, listening to the others even when he couldn’t understand their emotions, remaining level-headed and calm around their puns and insults and threats, hiding his interests and holding back his words so they wouldn’t think less of him. He has worked against obstacles and odds of which the others aren’t even aware. He has bent and molded and reshaped himself in so many ways to better accommodate everyone else, to match their expectations, to make them happy. He did it for them.

But what does he get in return? Mocked, disrespected, and ignored.

And, worst of all, Logan knows just how important he is to Thomas! Well, in function, at least. Thomas would not survive without Logic, and yet Logan seems to be the only one to recognize that fact. He can’t even be respected for his function, his purpose in keeping Thomas alive and well. It’s one thing if they didn't like Logan, but wasn’t the fact that he was needed for Thomas’ survival enough for them to tolerate him, at the very least?

[lyrics:

I’m your only hope

And I’m your savior too

Every single test

You’ve been ever carried through]

On top of that, and as we saw in the Working Through Intrusive Thoughts asides episode, Logan has been attempting to solve Thomas’ issues by himself, relying on his knowledge and experience with Thomas to determine the best approach in every situation without consulting the other sides at all. At some point in the series, Logan came to believe that he was the only one who actually cared about what Thomas needed, that he was somehow the only one actually keeping Thomas alive. He believes he is the only side who’s clear-headed enough to handle Thomas’ problems, the only one who can act as a voice of reason, the only one who offers practical and useful solutions.

This is, unfortunately for Logan, not actually true, but it makes sense why he would come to this conclusion, considering that every side disagrees on what they think is best for Thomas. The other sides tend to focus on their own self-interests and goals as guiding factors while Logan is the one who deals the most in absolutes and factual information. Something that Roman suggests can be complete fantasy, impossible to ever achieve. Something that Patton suggests can be unreasonable to follow through on or would only hurt Thomas in the long run. Something that Virgil suggests can be rooted in negativity and self-doubt, bringing Thomas’ mental health down as a result. Janus’ suggestions can be incredibly biased and not always socially acceptable. Remus’ suggestions…well. They can be both uncomfortable as well as impractical.

But Logan never gives impossible, impractical, or biased recommendations to Thomas. He uses research to find what would work best for the situation, then applies it to his knowledge and experience with Thomas to determine what would suit him most, and then suggests it outright, explaining in simple terms a way in which it can be implemented.

He does all the hard work for Thomas, so that all he’ll have to do is simply follow through. Each time, he does this with Thomas and his needs at the forefront of every offer.

Yes, he can go overboard a bit, just like all the other sides, but he thinks that just means he needs to be flexible and allow for some exceptions to balance things out, allow Thomas to be happy in his survival. After all, he has learned so much over the course of this series, hasn’t he?

He learned to compromise with those he disagreed with in The Mind vs The Heart. He learned that too much or too little of any side’s influence could bring detriment to Thomas in Accepting Anxiety Pt 1 & 2. He learned that emotions could override intelligence and present a major problem in Moving On Pt 1 & 2. He learned that finding some balance between his suggestions and the others’ was optimal in Why Do We Get Out of Bed in the Morning?. He learned that such balance could not be applied to himself as he had to maintain his role as an unemotional Logic and stay serious in Crofters: The Musical. He learned that he needed to expand his understanding of why Thomas preferred emotions over intelligence despite the need for both in Learning New Things About Ourselves. He learned that the other sides and Thomas could apparently solve their issues without his presence in Selfishness vs Selflessness. He learned that his method of taking action and solving the issue for them when they were too emotional to do it themselves was more efficient in Dealing with Intrusive Thoughts. He learned that, despite his willingness to help, the others much preferred to solve issues without him in Putting Others First. He learned that his method of efficiency in solving Thomas’ problems on his behalf was not particularly welcome and would not earn him the respect he desired in Working Through Intrusive Thoughts. He learned that despite continued efforts, the others still won’t listen to him or to each other in Have I Grown? – Five Years Later. He learned that, as the logical side, the others would always assume he was against them and their ideas in Can Plushies Improve Our Health?

He's learned…a lot. Overall, he has concluded that he is needed but not wanted, that he has the answers but not the perfect method to apply them, that he apparently should allow for emotions to guide the other sides and Thomas while keeping himself cut off from them entirely, and that he should be implementing logic only where it is most required or when specifically requested.

Logan has found what he believes should work best for Thomas, but has also realized that Thomas is refusing to listen. Thomas doesn’t want to do things that benefit him, he doesn’t want to do things that will make him feel better, and Logan certainly can’t force him to do them, either, even when he’s sure it will help. Are the suggestions the problem or is it because it’s Logan suggesting them that keeps him from doing it?

Logan is very determined to perform his function, to keep Thomas alive and well. He wants to empower him to overcome the mental health difficulties he’s been facing lately, and to allow him to take care of his needs, but Logan’s doing all of this by himself because he doesn’t believe anyone else is capable nor wants to do what has to be done.

The other sides prefer to only dabble in the fun parts, the emotional parts, and leave the complicated and messy stuff to Logan alone. And if Thomas refuses to listen just because it’s Logan telling him the answer, then it puts everything at a standstill, including Logan’s purpose for even being there.

It frustrates him. He feels like he’s been put in this unwinnable position, always made out to be the bad guy when all he does is care about Thomas’ survival and wellbeing.

[lyrics:

I couldn’t ever give up on you

But don’t thank me]

He, quite literally, could never stop doing his job as Thomas’ Logic. He could never stop doing his part, keeping everything afloat, making sure that Thomas can still function, even when Thomas’ mental health is fighting against him at every turn.

Throughout all of Working Through Intrusive Thoughts, we see Logan pause or postpone his plans so he can redirect Thomas and attempt to salvage his mental health, give him time to refocus. He knows it’s a priority right now. He has learned time and time again that emotions are more important than logic in this world, even if logic is the reason he knows and can implement ways to help Thomas to calm down and manage those emotions.

Logan knows by now that he can only help when he’s asked to or when he’s needed most, but after every obstacle and barrier he’s managed to push through, after being the only one who cares enough to do anything to help, he’s left tired and frustrated. He just wants Thomas to listen, for once, for his own benefit, so that he might understand what it is Logan hasn’t been able to say because he’s been pushed down and away for so long.

He shouts out “Stop ignoring me!” to Remus, but Remus knows it’s not really him that he wants to yell that at, and he’s right. Logan’s frustration is mostly with Thomas, and this song shows that very clearly.

He won’t give up on him because he physically can’t, but maybe he has stopped caring about why that is. Maybe he will just do his job, meet the bare minimum of expectations, and not care about the rest anymore.

When Thomas asks him “What’s next?” in the Have I Grown? anniversary video, Logan simply responds, “You tell me.”

He knows his opinion doesn’t matter. He knows no one listens to what he has to say. His suggestions are ignored, his advice is unwanted. Why should he bother giving a damn any longer if Thomas and the other sides clearly don’t give a damn about him?

And that’s where we get to the next song, Erase Me by Ben Folds Five.

This is a very pivotal moment, and it’s notable that it seems to be something that will happen in the near future of the series, because, as of the last song, we have already surpassed all currently released (and relevant) episodes of Sanders Sides in this timeline of the playlist. Erase Me will be related to whatever happens next in Logan’s arc, which also means everything from here on out is more of a prediction than an analysis.

[lyrics:

What was our home?

Paper, not stone

A lean-to, at most]

There’s a lot going on from the very start of this song. First, Logan’s perspective of the mindscape, the “family” of Thomas’ sides, and the system they’ve been using to keep Thomas going was clearly built on shaky foundation, paper-thin and ready to fall at a moment’s notice. Patton holding back negative emotions and then pushing Thomas to prioritize others over himself, Roman pushing himself too far and letting passion fuel Thomas’ every move in desperate attempts to look like the good guy, Virgil’s persistent presence alone despite his efforts to do better only to turn around and assume the worst of Thomas’ opinion of him, Janus’ meddling and his attempts to get Thomas to understand his issues without saying anything outright and only confusing him more and making him feel more guilty, and Remus being abrasive and outlandish to grab Thomas’ attention at every chance he has even if it comes at a detriment to Thomas’ health. It really was only a matter of time before things fell through.

Thomas struggling the way he has been was bound to happen because he wasn’t taking care of himself, he would only listen to some sides far more than others and wasn’t listening to his voice of reason much at all. This created an unfair and, at times, toxic environment for the sides to live and work in. All of them constantly trying to grab Thomas’ attention was what kept them from paying attention to Thomas and what he needed instead.

This became increasingly evident after Janus showed up in the narrative, and has been explicitly clear since Remus’ arrival, too. Thomas is not doing well mentally, and his sides are all stressed out which is making it worse. Logan can recognize all this from a detached, outside perspective despite also being just as affected. He’s been trying to keep things together for Thomas, working on his own to fulfill every role being left undone while the others are too upset to handle things as they typically could, but unfortunately, Logan’s finding it hard to care anymore.

[lyrics:

And when you pulled

Your half away

Gravity won

Like it always does

Did I weigh a ton?

Would it be easier

To just delete

Our pages and the plans we made?]

So, this song is sung in a very accusatory tone, poking at a specific person (mainly because it is originally a break-up song). The speaker is very upset and angry with the other party, and they are relaying their observations and asking why, asking if it was their fault this happened.

“And when you pulled your half away” implies that Logan was not the instigator of whatever preceded this incident, but as we saw with the last song, Logan holds some beliefs about Thomas and the other sides that are not fully true but are not exactly contested either. He could easily see their insistence in pushing him away, ignoring him, and refusing to listen even when Thomas is in desperate need of help as their act of pulling away from him, even if he is the one who has finally let go.

And while I don’t want to get too particular with my predictions, I do believe it’s very possible a last straw for Logan at this juncture may very well involve Thomas’ mental health and what he genuinely needs for survival.

If you’ll remember, Logan now believes he is only truly needed when it is absolutely necessary and there are no other options, or if he is specifically requested to help in some way, so if there is a situation that requires his attention, only for him to show up and be rejected yet again, he may just give up at that point.

And Logan thinks he is the only side genuinely looking out for Thomas, not just for his needs but his wants, as well. Thomas had specifically asked for his help in the Working Through Intrusive Thoughts episode, only for him to take on multiple roles to keep Thomas calm enough to handle himself. And Logan was the only one who bothered to ask Thomas what He wanted in the Can Plushies Improve Our Health? promo video, before even making his argument that everyone else assumed would be in opposition but turned out not to be.

Logan sees himself as that last remaining straw, really. If something is going to finally break him, it will be Thomas and the others. It will be their negligence, their refusal, their rejection of him that finally bends him too far, pushing him to a point where nothing can ever be the same again.

[lyrics:

So what will you do

With no me for you

I know what we said

What if I left

A thing or two?

We know that you don’t seem

To think about what you need

‘Til you reach to find that you’ve—

Erased me]

Like I said, Logan sees himself as the only one holding Thomas together. He believes that, without him, everything would fall apart and turn to chaos, and he’s probably right about most of that.

These lyrics are the speaker predicting what will occur, that the others won’t even notice his absence until they need him for something, and that’s when they’ll realize he’s already gone. This indicates a potential plan to leave, maybe not fully ducking out but certainly not sticking around either. Something that would keep Thomas’ logic functional for use while also allowing Logan a reprieve from him and the other sides, where he would only be used as one would a tool; tucked away in storage until the moment it is needed, then put right back afterward.

Leaving is the key here, though, and it’s something we’ve already seen result in detriment to Thomas back in Accepting Anxiety Pt 1 & 2, and yet, Logan has come to believe that this is a favorable option. Why? Is this to help him feel vindicated, to teach them a lesson?

It's not as though they want him around enough to stop him from leaving anyway.

You know, both the title and chorus of this song portray a very particular message, as “erase me” is not the speaker’s action, because he is not the one erasing himself. Rather, it is a suggestion to the other party so that they can finally be rid of the speaker. The lyrics are also taunting with these words, as if to say that this is what the other party has wanted all along anyway so they should just do it already.

Logan is asking, pleading, for Thomas to let him go because he obviously doesn’t even want him around. Logan doesn’t want to put up with this anymore, and as angry as he is at how he’s been treated, he knows he can’t just give up on Thomas, he’s literally a part of him. This has to be Thomas’ decision, Thomas’ action. Thomas has to be the one to push Logan away, the one to erase him.

Logan isn’t just angry at this point, he’s miserable. He knows he’s unwanted and barely needed, as he serves so little purpose to Thomas in his current career and doesn’t get along with any of the other sides despite everything he has tried to do to correct that. They’ve made it clear they don’t want him around, and they have already proven they can solve issues on their own without his help. He doesn’t need to be there, so why won’t Thomas just let him go?

[lyrics:

Erase me, and you’ll never have to face me

Erase me, Option-Command-Escape me

And if you feel nothing, guess what I wanna be?]

A fun little tidbit of knowledge here, but the Option-Command-Escape function on an Apple computer is its force-quit option, to completely cease a program from running. The program can’t do this itself; the user has to combine those three keys to make it happen. And when they do, the program will have closed and shut down completely. Often this is used when a program isn’t working the way it’s supposed to, when it fails to do its job. By doing this, you put it out of its misery.

Logan isn’t just asking to leave, to only benefit Thomas from afar or only as needed, he is essentially begging for death. He no longer wishes to function at all, because he believes he has no purpose to Thomas or the others. He is pleading for Thomas to let him go, find someone else who could do a better job as his Logic, someone who they’d actually enjoy having around.

For Logan to reach this low of a point, something truly devastating has to have happened to him. I cannot possibly predict what may truly set him off in this way, but given the most recent events in the series, he isn’t all that far from this point already. Likely, it will involve his worth and use to Thomas, and it won’t just be that he was forgotten or tossed aside like in SVS and SVS:R, but that Thomas or the others doing something that will clarify his uselessness out loud, where it can no longer be denied. There will be a divide that leaves him alone on the other end, finally and truly aware that he will never belong here.

Desperation that turns to anger to hide away its shame and misery, Logan won’t just duck out like Virgil had in Accepting Anxiety Pt 1. He would lash out, make sure Thomas and the others knew exactly why he wanted to leave, and begging that they be the ones to cut that connection for him. Maybe he will do something to push the issue, to give them a reason to do it. Perhaps the Orange side will emerge at this point, either to assist him in whatever he’s trying to do or to take over for him or something else entirely.

Regardless of what happens, Logan has now hit a very low point, and everyone knows it.

The next song is Art is Dead by Bo Burnham, which by itself can imply quite a few things.

As if simmering down from the initial blast of heat in the last song, there's still anger and annoyance here, but also a realization.

Something I want you to understand about this song before we relate it to Logan and why it’s included in this playlist is that the speaker is talking about a position, specifically an entertainer, and is saying that what they do is problematic. The speaker is complaining about another party, only to then turn around and include themself within that party. They are not just saying “entertainers are bad and here’s 50 reasons why.” They are saying “entertainers are attention-seekers, and so am I.”

So, when you then put this into perspective with Logan and the message he’s been trying to convey, he is pointing out flaws that he sees in what is likely Roman, as well as Thomas, but he’s also including himself as part of the problem. He recognizes that he, too, seeks attention – from Thomas, from the other sides, from the audience. And he doesn’t feel that it’s a good thing, he sees it as shameful because he knew why it was an issue, and yet he kept doing it anyway.

This seems like a moment of self-reflection, to see that he is not above the others at all, in fact he’s not that different from them when it comes down to what they all want, which is Thomas’ attention. Every single one of them is trying to be heard, but Thomas has only been listening to some of them. And most of them never feel that what they do get is enough, no matter how much it is.

This song shows that Logan knows he wants Thomas’ attention, but also that he doesn’t feel he’s done enough to deserve it. He believes he hasn’t even earned a right to complain like he has. He’s ashamed for how he’s acted because he thought he was supposed to be better than this. He doesn’t deserve the respect he thought he was owed; he doesn’t deserve anything.

With this song, he has somehow managed to dig even lower than his last low point, he’s just sorry for all the trouble he’s caused. Maybe his emotions got out of hand, maybe the Orange side caused problems but it was his fault because he let it happen – who knows? Even if he felt vindicated in the moment, it was clearly fleeting, and now, after the events of what happened, Logan only feels worse.

And then we get to Equation from The Little Prince next on the playlist, and we’re still in that zone of self-reflection, but it’s no longer about how Logan’s just like the others. No, now it’s all about his own flaws, his own failures, and everywhere that he’s fallen short.

Logan has now managed to dig even deeper than his lowest low, folks! It just gets worse and worse! Can you believe it?

[lyrics:

Will I ever know

How white is the snow

Does it matter after all?

Will I ever learn

How to fly like birds]

In this lowest point, Logan can only come up with questions that have been left unasked. Did he hurt Thomas? Did he ruin whatever he had with the other sides? Will he be forever trapped in this world Thomas created for them, with no way to truly explore the real world, to see its full wonder? Will he ever have a chance to do better, to be better, to hope again? Will he ever reach his true potential? Did he ever even have a true potential?

He had attempted and failed to find perfection for so long. He believed it was just a matter of trying, of wanting to meet Thomas’ expectations of him, that if he put his all into it, then he could see it through and be what exactly what Thomas wanted him to be, to be what everyone expected him to be, to be what Logan himself hoped to be.

Hours, days, weeks, years… In the end, it was never truly possible, and yet he had kept foolishly hoping for so long that he could be enough for Thomas. He had called the others’ ideas irrational, when, really, it was him all along with the impossible dreams.

[lyrics:

Are you good as gold?

Are you far from hope?

Are you well alone,

Dad?

Will I be a brave?

Will I be a bright?

Will I be a good grown-up?]

The future was never certain, but now Logan could never be sure of anything. What will become of him? What will become of Thomas? Is it even possible to recover from this, to start over, to get better?

We then move on to the next song, Sunrise from In The Heights. Logan is not doing well, but something he definitely needs more than anything right now is some sort of hope and motivation to keep trying and keep going.

Sunrise appears to be a song meant to involve either Roman or Patton communicating with Logan, but the purpose in its placement on this playlist seems to infer emotion as a motivation to learn, if you break the romantic intent away from the song itself, that is. Anything can motivate one to learn, even love, and Logan must be able to recognize this and understand that emotions and intelligence do not have to have a clear separation and can instead work in tandem. Learning isn’t just about curiosity or survival, it can have very emotional ties, as well.

For so long in the series, Logan has insisted he did not have emotions, even when this was clearly false. He believed that keeping himself removed from emotions would help him succeed in his job as Logic, that the others would be able to rely on him much more if they could trust his knowledge to be unbiased and unmotivated by unpredictable emotions. He assumed that divide between the two was necessary, and that if the two merged or collided, he would be unfit to do his job, that he would not be taken seriously.

However, doing this kept him from understanding and processing his own emotions as well as being unable to empathize with Thomas and the other sides. He only grew to misunderstand and mistrust emotions more and more as time went on, becoming startled and confused at his own outbursts, not aware of why he would feel a certain way or have a certain reaction to a situation, because he refused to let himself experience that emotion, to feel it. His lack of understanding directly resulted from his choice not to engage with emotions at all, despite their importance.

And finding that importance is where this song comes in, because the crucial point Logan had been missing all this time was that emotions can encourage one to learn, inspire one to research. Love can motivate someone to learn a new language, so they can communicate, as we hear in this song. But something like anger can motivate someone to research an important topic so they can fight for what they believe in with facts on their side. Sadness can inspire someone to look into advice and ways to help, not just for oneself but for others, too, employing empathy and logic side by side. Fear can motivate someone to find truth, to create familiarity with routines and schedules, to calm down cognitive distortions to maintain peace of mind.

Logic and emotions do not need to be separated; they can work together very well. In fact, most people use both in tandem every day.

For so long, Logan had set for himself a barrier he could not, would not cross. He knew there was nuance to the world but learned over time that he could not display his own. He resorted to that black-and-white thinking for the others' benefit and then to his own, finding that it was all-or-nothing when it came to Logic or Emotions. He believed one would merely taint the other, so they must be kept apart, even if that left only he alone on the other side, as the only logical side.

Despite the unfairness and discomfort, he didn’t want to challenge what he had come to think was right, what he’d been using as his basis for how he was supposed to act, which is why he refused to learn more about it, to never dare change the perception that he held.

He had given up, letting the world and its arbitrary rules dictate who he was and how he should be…but that was never meant to happen.

Once he realizes where his thoughts had steered him wrong, it will be like a whole new world of opportunities has suddenly opened up to him, giving him so much more to explore and learn. It will give him what he was missing this whole time. It will bridge the gaps he’d been unable to cross.

Logan does serve a purpose, and it's an incredibly important one, but it’s not something he was ever meant to do completely alone like he has been.

And that, of course, is where we get to the next song, One More Time with Feeling by Regina Spektor.

Firstly, this is a song about recovery, which is definitely where Logan would be by now in the story, processing what happened, and attempting to move forward and do better. As many know, recovery is not linear, and it’s certainly not perfect.

But given everything that has happened, it’s not all on Logan to improve himself on his own. Yes, he will need to allow himself to feel emotions so that he can understand them better, and he’ll need to learn ways to implement feelings alongside intelligence when working with the other sides to help Thomas, but the other sides need to do their part here, as well.

They have pushed him away, refused to listen to him for so long, often for petty reasons that blossomed into their eventual negligence. It won’t be easy to fix that level of miscommunication between Logan and the others. It’s not as simple as Logan finally speaking up, or the others promising to do better; it will require a lot of work from both ends before anyone can truly meet in the middle on this.

Logan had spent a lot of time before all this, trying to find ways to meet the others halfway, only to met with nothing in return. He gave up so much of himself, and now resents their choice to only take and never give anything back. Once the others finally reciprocate and show that they do genuinely care about him, only then will Logan have the chance to start this journey, to finally begin to get better.

The lyrics that we hear a few times in this song “this is why we fight” can have multiple connotations, such as an explanation of why the group miscommunicates and argues so much, why they don’t get along. But it can also mean that this is their motivation to keep trying, to fight for what they believe in.

I believe both of these meanings are present in Logan’s perspective of this song.

[lyrics:

Oh, everyone takes turns, now it’s yours to play the part

And they’re sitting all around you, holding copies of your chart

And the misery inside their eyes is synchronized and reflecting into yours]

Earlier on in the song, Logan believes that the others don’t understand his predicament, even if they want to help. They are still separate from him, even if they’ve all had their own issues to overcome, that doesn’t mean they actually comprehend what he’s going through, how it feels, what it means.

He experiences the world so differently from the rest of them. How could they ever possibly understand?

They are pushing him to do something he cannot do well – to open up, to reach out, to feel – and it’s only condescending and antagonistic how they keep insisting that he try again every time he fails.

“This is why we fight” during the chorus is his condemnation of their actions, that he doesn’t think the others can meet him at his level. He is not in a place yet where he can believe they’ll listen to what he’s actually saying, he can’t trust that they’ll bother to explain these unknown things to him in a way he can understand. And this is why they continue to fight, to argue, to not get along, because they aren’t properly communicating, they’re just making the same mistakes again and again.

[lyrics:

You thought by now you’d be so much better than you are

You thought by now they’d see that you had come so far

And the pride inside their eyes would synchronize into a love you’ve never known

So much more than you’ve been shown]

Logan thought he would be better, not just in regard to being the best he can be for Thomas, to succeed as his Logic, to know what to do, and to have the answers, but also in terms of his own recovery. It’s difficult, and some days are worse than others; he makes progress and then he doesn’t, and it’s shameful because he has such high expectations for himself.

He’s so used to aiming for perfection that when failure is consistent like this, it feels wrong to be told it’s actually okay, that it’s normal.

But he wants to prove that Thomas’ efforts and the efforts from the other sides have not gone to waste on him, that he is improving. And yet, he keeps failing anyway. He was supposed to be perfect; he was supposed to be reliable! But now look at him. Even with their help, he’s still messing things up.

He just wants to make them proud, he wants to earn that attention and respect that he couldn’t get before, even if he knows he still doesn’t deserve it. He wants to prove that maybe he can deserve it, though.

“This is why we fight” during the next chorus is his agreement with the others, that this is the motivation to keep trying, to keep going. Someday, he can be better. Someday, he will be respected and trusted and relied upon in the ways that he wants. Someday, they’ll be proud of him.

Until then, the fight is worth it.

This leads directly into In My Mind by Amanda Palmer as the next song, as we see Logan has held very high expectations for himself, which is why failure had hurt so much. But now that things have changed, he may be beginning to challenge these expectations, to expand upon them and understand that he has a chance for something different now.

[lyrics:

Because I will be the picture of discipline

Never minding what state I’m in

And I will be someone I admire]

Part of the issue really did come down to lyrics like “never minding what state I’m in” because Logan never put himself as a priority. This entire time, even at his lowest point, Logan was never the one who was important, not even to himself.

He was okay with this because this was never about him, it was about what Thomas needed or wanted. His willingness to bend and remake himself to benefit the others was surely a sentiment shared by all of them, that this was just what was needed to accomplish his job.

It’s not until Logan finally realizes that this is not the case, that he needs to put himself in some priority, too, that he’ll ever begin to improve and truly get better, able to be himself or enjoy anything he does again.

A big part of recovery is not setting your motivation on someone or something else – you need to get better because you want to be better. You need to believe you deserve to be happy, to get the things you want. Logan can say he’s doing this to benefit Thomas, to build back a relationship with the other sides, to earn back his position and demand respect as Logic, but that will only fail until his motivation is simply that it’s something he wants to do, for him. When attached to others and their expectations, those strings only come with guilt and can end up making his situation worse.

Logan has to do this for himself.

[lyrics:

And it’s funny how I imagined

That I would be that person now

But it does not seem to have happened

Maybe I’ve just forgotten how to see

That I’m not exactly the person that I thought I’d be]

It starts with recognition, the realization that he hasn’t met those expectations he held for himself. There’s still judgement and he still feels guilty about it, wondering how he could have let it get to this point. Maybe he just wasn’t paying attention properly, maybe he should have remembered that he’d already decided long ago about perfection being unattainable and how that was supposed to apply to him, too.

[lyrics:

Not like me now

I’m so busy with everything

That I don’t look at anything

But I’m sure I’ll look when I am older]

He regrets having missed out on the present, not having the chance to experience the wonder of the world that he so admires due to all his efforts towards achieving perfection and doing his best to handle everything by himself. He was so busy trying to do everything so precisely and getting the result he wanted that he hadn’t given himself the opportunity to enjoy anything in all that time.

He could do activities if they were productive, if they served a purpose, but he was a hypocrite, always aware and sharing the wonder of the universe and all that exists within it, amazed by the here and now, yet spending all his time locked in, looking away from the present while trying so hard to maintain it.

How long did he spend, convincing himself that just as soon as he achieves what he set out to do, then he would have time to do that? How long would he have kept going if something hadn’t finally snapped and broken everything, forcing him to confront this?

Would he have missed out? Would he have been somehow worse?

[lyrics:

And it’s funny how I imagined that I could be that person now

But that’s not what I want, but that’s what I wanted

And I’d be giving up somehow, how strange to see

That I don’t wanna be the person that I want to be]

Finally, a breakthrough. While not quite acceptance, Logan is finally starting to see the difference, that he wants things in a different way now than he did before.

He kept trying to strive for perfection in his recovery, but didn’t he recall how badly that had gone last time? He knew perfection wasn’t attainable, but he believed that was the expectation Thomas and the others had for him. He kept trying to get to it, no matter what it cost him, and that’s how he wound up here in the first place.

And now, after everything, things have changed. Thomas is listening, at least more than before. The others do care, and try to make sure he knows it, too. Logan had wanted to get better, to make them proud, to prove that he deserved what they were offering to him, but… that wasn’t even the point of it all.

All this time, he’d thought he still needed to be perfect, that that was what he wanted, but now that he’s finally had a chance to look inside himself, to experience wonder and curiosity again, he has realized that what he really wanted was to be accepted.

He didn’t want to have to change himself so the others would listen, he just wished they would actually want to listen to him, to like him for who he is, to let him be himself without requiring him to change, to only be the best, only what was needed, only Logic.

He wanted to be more than Logic; he wanted to be Logan.

With that, he finally realizes that doesn’t have to focus on perfection for Thomas’ sake and survival. He can focus more on himself more instead, on what he actually wants from the world, what he wants to do, and what he wants to try. He can be what he wants to be – more than Thomas’ Logic.

Having finally realized what it’s all for and being given the time to explore that, we get to the next song, Not Perfect by Tim Minchin.

This is a song that attempts to use facts and knowledge to explain feelings and thoughts, bringing context to situations that Logan had struggled in doing before this point. Finally beginning to understand what it is that’s going on inside, what these feelings are and why they’re there, to have the words he needs to adequately describe it to someone else, it all must be so relieving.

There’s still uncertainty, sure, but it’s a lot less stressful now, knowing there’s a way to talk to the others, to actually communicate what he means. He may still be startled, caught unawares, but he doesn’t have to shove it down and away anymore. He knows how to pause and reflect, let himself experience it, and he knows how to control his own behavior in reaction to it.

It’s far from perfect, and there’s still a lot he’ll need to learn, but he does so enjoy learning, doesn’t he?

[lyrics:

This is my earth and it’s fine

It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time

It’s not perfect, but it’s mine

It’s not perfect…]

Another thing to note about this song is the ownership behind most of the lyrics. “This is my earth” and “it’s not perfect, but it’s mine.” That sense of belonging is something that Logan has always wanted, and to be able to not only express that, finally, but to feel that it is real, that he is no longer just an outside observer but a part of the world as a whole, must be incredible.

He’s finally found his place, and though it was here all along, he no longer feels trapped in a cage or left collecting dust on a shelf. He has his place, he knows he’s a part of something greater, and that he’ll be appreciated for who he is.

This song has a perfect matching bookend, by the way; it’s three songs from the end of the playlist whereas Algoryhthm was three from the start. Both of these songs involve one’s differing view of the world, recognizing not only how it works but their place within it. One deals with that negatively, the other more positively.

In Algorhythm, Logan still had wonder for the expanse of the world but found himself trapped by the parameters being set. It didn’t matter that he knew things didn’t have to run in this way, he had no power to change it. He was given no other choice but to give up and go with the flow. He could only change himself to match it, knowing he was an outsider who didn’t belong but had to make do with his circumstances.

In Not Perfect, however, he still has that differing view of the world, but instead of being the outlier, he’s now able to find comfort in knowing he has a place within this world. There are so many wonders everywhere, all around, in the biggest and smallest of things. Yes, he sees the world differently, but so do others, and that’s amazing! He may feel alone at times, he may feel infinitesimal among the great expanse of the universe, but he is never truly alone. He knows he belongs here. He has those who understand him, and he doesn’t have to change for anyone. The world can accept him for who he is, always.

It's as though whoever curated this playlist knew precisely what they were doing. They cared deeply enough to ensure this story, Logan’s story, was told exactly the way it was meant to be, to describe the highs and lows, to explain the truth behind every note, and to inspire with hope anyone else who may be struggling, as well. This story, this playlist, says to us calmly and clearly that everything is going to be okay. It’s not perfect, but it’ll be okay.

In Human by Tank and the Bangas, we get to hear that acceptance, that love on full display.

Things have finally slowed down now, a song for a moment that comes at a more comfortable and soothing pace. Logan finally has the time to look around and see what he’s been missing while he’s been so busy with everything else.

This is another song that uses facts not only to describe and evoke emotions, but to inspire awe and wonder. Emotion-driven curiosity, channeling all the wonders of the world, of you, as your inspiration and guide to learn more and appreciate the here and now.

[lyrics:

Don’t you ever become complicit

With living life on a shelf]

Logan had gone so long pushing away parts of himself simply because they were flawed, not partaking in his interests because they didn’t fit the mold he so desperately wanted to fill. But now that he’s found his place, he can appreciate his chance to finally be more, to explore and share what he’s learned, knowing he’ll be heard.

Something we’ve seen from Logan since the very beginning is just how deep and wide his wonder goes. He loves the world, the universe, and everything found within it. He holds such fascination for the innumerable amount of living species in the world, for all the technology that’s been created and built, for every concept born of a mind. Logan loves the world so much, and he wishes so much for others to cherish what can be learned from it, as every moment, something new emerges. So many possibilities, so many chances to do more, see more, be more.

Logan was never meant to be someone who was pushed away, kept from the world that he loves so dearly. And now that he finally has the chance to be himself, to be accepted for who he is, we see that he immediately turns to what he loves most: wonder, and the opportunity to share it with others.

Knowledge can do so much for so many, but it’s best purpose is to be shared openly and freely, given to all who will take it. It’s not meant to be inaccessible, locked away, kept elite behind paywalls and tuition fees. It’s a part of what makes the world as amazing as it is, and Logan knows this and wants it to be shared.

[lyrics:

You have to continue to live

There are too many more interesting lessons]

Logan had made it his upmost priority in life to ensure Thomas’ survival, but this was something that eventually led to him burned out, begging for his own life to end instead. This journey, this long arc full of ups and downs, gave Logan the chance to see that his priorities were misaligned. He needed to take care of himself, he needed to give himself significance, because otherwise, he’d be constantly pouring from an empty cup.

He had to choose not only to live but to give himself the chance to do what humans do, to experience life, to enjoy it. Whatever time they have, they will make the most of it, because it can’t just be about survival.

Back in the song Algorhythm, Logan learned that humans do things very differently, that they don’t always act in ways that make sense, that sometimes they don’t prioritize survival despite its importance. In Fitter Happier, his interpretation of what it meant to be human was so disconnected from reality, misunderstanding what it was truly all for. But now, he has been given the chance to experience that broader spectrum; he’s no longer cut off from emotions and the ties they make to every moment in life.

There is so much more you can do with emotions as your guide, as the heartbeat to fuel your curiosity, your will to keep learning.

[lyrics:

And if you never knew

That that was enough to just be

You obviously don’t know

A thing]

This song has marked this moment out clearly for Logan, that he is finally an important and valued part of Thomas, that he belongs here and has a place here with the other sides, within the world, within the show. And it wasn’t perfection and changing himself to suit their needs that got him there. He was able to accept himself and give himself the freedom to explore and discover more, to find his own way to benefit Thomas, to be Logic, without strings, without repression, without solitude.

Being unabashedly himself was enough. He was enough for Thomas.

And then we get to the last song on the playlist, Time Adventure from Adventure Time.

A charming song to complete the set, to bring us back to how happy and smiling Logan had started out at the beginning of it all, though this time there’s a lot more depth to that smile. He knows more now; he’s learned and changed and improved in ways he never knew possible at the start of all this.

[lyrics:

Time is an illusion that helps things make sense

So we’re always living in the present tense

It seems unforgiving when a good thing ends

But you and I will always be back then

You and I will always be back then]

Existentialism with a positive twist, Logan can recognize the world for what it is, for how it works. But there is always that encouragement to remember where we all are, in the here and now.

Logan values the present the most, even if he’s someone we know who relies on the past for experience and the future for motivation. In comparison, Roman values the future and what it can hold, Patton values the past and what it can mean, and Virgil mixes between the past and the future to keep Thomas on a steady path. Logan is one of the only sides, other than perhaps Janus, who values the present moment above all else.

He wants Thomas to see what’s right in front of him instead of ignoring it for what he remembers of the past or what he hopes for the future. It’s okay to want those things, to appreciate them, but disregarding the present only results in missing out on the world around him, on what’s already available to him right now.

Logan sees Thomas’ potential and aspires for him to achieve it, but he can’t keep his mind on faraway goals without doing what he can in the present. Make a plan today that you can enact tomorrow. Brainstorm that story right now so you can write it later. Hug that friend today so you can remember it later when you miss them. There’s always a reason to act in the present, to live your life right here and now.

This ending song shows us that Logan has grown so much, and came to be happy at the end of the story. He’s come to understand himself, the others, Thomas, and the whole world so much better than ever before and is better for it. From this point on, things will surely be different, but now he has everything he needs to face anything that may come his way. He can rely on his knowledge, but also trust that he has his friends at his side, that he has their support. He knows Thomas values him and what he has to say, and that he can tell him when things are tough, when he needs him to listen.

He is heard. He is loved. And he loves in turn, all without having to do anything but be himself.

Something I absolutely adore about these last few songs on the playlist is that even though Logan is doing better now, after everything he’s gone through, he’s not showing this newfound satisfaction and happiness in the ways that you’d expect of most people. He’s doing it his own way, the way he likes doing it, and he’s thriving for it!

He prefers to work alone, having the time to think and contemplate strategies and plans without interruption. He likes reading in a quiet room, exploring fascinating new worlds and concepts all on his own. He likes sharing what he’s learned, and being relied upon for his knowledge, given the opportunity to explain ideas to others in the hopes that it will fascinate them and encourage them to learn more themselves.

He's not changing himself to do what others want of him. He’s not trying to fit some mold, to be okay by anyone else’s standards. He’s just…being Logan. And that’s everything I could ever want for him.

This playlist has involved such an amazing journey for Logan; it’s a story told through something humans will always love to share – music!

It showed us every crucial moment of Logan's arc, from what we've already seen in the show to what we know is bound to come next. It's clear that Logan has so much more to learn, especially from the other sides, who will be able to understand him once they finally try to communicate effectively and work together for Thomas and for themselves. The situation will improve, they will be happy, someday.

Someday, we’ll get to see the real conclusion to this character’s story, and until then, we can hold out hope for a good ending.

[dopelavender]

Trapped by your love | Eddie Munson x Reader

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A/N

Pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

Summary: Eddie breaks up with the reader because he feels he doesn't deserve her :(

Word count: 2.8 k

Warnings ⚠️ : Angst, a whole lotta angst; alcohol consumption, and more angst ig??

Note: hi my lovelies! let me know if you want part 2, so we don't end it on a cliffhanger and I can bring some joy into your lives after all this angst! enjoy! ♡ XO

•

Your eyes are closed. The cool night air is vibrating around you, alive with the energy of dozens of teenagers in motion, trying to drown their sorrows in cheap beer and good music. Every beat is rushing through you, pumping your blood and electrifying your muscles. Your movements are fluid, hands up in the air, letting themselves be led by the sweet melody that’s flooding your ears, blocking out everything else.

“We are strong

No one can tell us we're wrong

Searching our hearts for so long

Both of us knowing

Love is a battlefield.” 

Pat Benatar’s emotional words resonate with your heavy heart. They fill your head, substituting the loud thoughts that have been eating away at you for the past months .All you want to feel is this moment, because anything else would hurt too bad.  As if thinking that you’ve forgotten about them for too long, yesterday’s memories crawl their way back into your mind. You chug your warm beer, trying to make them go away but they’re still there, making your chest tighten. Oh god, not now, you think. The crowd suddenly becomes suffocating. You elbow and push your way through the sweaty bodies, making your way inside to the pub’s tiny bathroom. 

The door shuts behind you with a slam, as your hands harshly grip the cold sink tile beneath them. Your head drops, arms shaking as tears start streaming down your face. It’s been too long since it happened, you should be fine by now. But wherever you go, whatever you do, he’s always in the back of your mind. The music is now a muffled sound, but you still manage to make out the words that twist the knife in your heart

“ You're making me go

Then making me stay

Why do you hurt me so bad?

It would help me to know

Do I stand in your way

Or am I the best thing you've had?” 

It’s hard to enjoy the party. It’s hard to think straight. It’s hard to stop crying. It’s hard to breathe….without Eddie.  

March 1986. 6 months earlier

“So what are you saying?” There was no way this could be happening right now. You try and remain stoic, but it’s impossible. Your tone was getting louder, emotions pouring out of every word. Maybe you just hadn’t understood what he was telling you. Sometimes things get mixed up without us wanting them to. You sit on the couch in Eddie’s living room, trying to work out the reason he was saying these things. Playing with your hands, you squeeze them tightly in hopes of grounding yourself. 

“I’m saying… I- I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” Eddie was leaning against the wall, his eyes glued to the floor. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you. If he saw your beautiful face, the face he loved more than anything in this world, he knew he couldn’t go through with it. But because he loved you so much, he had to. He had to put an end to it. It wasn’t going anywhere. You had just graduated, top of your class. You could go to any college you desired, yet you chose to stay here in Hawkings, with him. Your future was glistening brightly ahead of you, and all he was doing was slowly dimming the light, until there was nothing left but despairing darkness. 

His fate had been decided by the family he was born into. His mother bailed out before he could even remember her face and his old man had been in and out of prison his whole life. Uncle Wayne had been the only form of parental love the boy had ever known and he was breaking his back day in, day out, to put food on the table. Society hadn’t been kind to him either. He was hated and labelled as a freak. Eddie knew his life wouldn’t amount to anything big. As much as he despised it, he could slowly see himself turning into his father. After all, he was a worthless drug dealer, repeating his senior year for the third time, wasn’t he? He selfishly allowed himself to fall in love with you. But how couldn’t he, when you were the most precious soul he had ever met? Not falling in love with you seemed like a challenge many a man have failed yet and yet again. In the end, he had to face the truth: you were just too good for him, and nothing would change that. 

“Eddie...I-I don’t understand...Did I do something?” You look up at Eddie with your heart silently breaking, wondering where it had all gone wrong. The room starts to feel too small. You get up from the old couch, grabbing Eddie’s hand to make him look at you. But he doesn’t. His eyes stay focused on the floor, curly locks of hair falling over his face, hiding the tears that were starting to build in his eyes. “Please, please just tell me what it is so we can fix it. We can fix anything, baby. Just please tell me, Eddie…” You let go of his hand and bring both your hands to his chest, sliding them up to cup his face. He gently removes them and pushes you away, his eyes finally meeting yours. Eddie’s heart sinks as he looks at you, fully transparent, with fear and sadness written all over your face. Fear and sadness he had caused. 

“This just isn’t working. We’re not working anymore.” That’s a lie, he thinks The words leaving his mouth were in complete antithesis with his feelings. But he knows if he told you the truth, the real reason he was breaking up with you, you would never accept it. So he had to sell it, somehow. 

“What do you mean?” Should you have known he was feeling this way? Now, when you think about it, Eddie had been distant these past few days. No cuddles, barely there kisses and fleeting, superficial touches. You didn’t think much of it, blaming it on your conflicting schedules. He was busy playing shows since his band “Corroded Coffin” started getting recognition around Hawkings and you were busy at the diner, working extra shifts to earn some more money, since you and Eddie had been talking about getting a place together. But it seems there was more to it than you thought. You close your eyes, take a deep breath in and slowly let it out as you prepare yourself for the worst “Do you not love me anymore?”

His gaze shifts uncomfortably, looking everywhere he possibly can just to avoid your eyes, now open and expecting an answer. Of course I love you! I love you so much it hurts, he thinks. Even so, he doesn’t say that. Instead, he lies to you “No. I don’t”. 

Your eyes close again, you can’t seem to keep them open for too long. The reality you were faced with was just too agonising. You feel your nails digging into the flesh of your palms, your hands curled into tight fists. The pain will hopefully wake you up from this horrible nightmare. And when you wake up next to Eddie, he’s going to kiss your wet cheeks and whispers sweet nothings in your ear until you fall back asleep, safely wrapped in his arms, the way you did a hundred times before.  

But this time, the nightmare doesn’t stop as you open your eyes. 

“I think you should go” his head leans against the wall behind him, his Adam’s Apple moving up and down as he tries to undo the knot in his throat that’s making it hard for him to talk. Please don’t leave me, he thinks. Please see through my act. You always said you could read me like a book. So do it now, sweetheart. Read me. 

“I’m not going anywhere” That’s my girl, Eddie thinks “I’m not going anywhere until you look me in the eyes and you tell me you don’t love me anymore” You see his head snap down, jaw clenching as he searches your face carefully. You swear you can see a shadow of fear in his eyes. Why would he be afraid, when he’s the one ending things so carelessly? 

Oh no, oh no no no, he rages inside his head. Please don’t make me do that. I can’t do that, Y/N...

Your eyes never leave his face, waiting for Eddie to do what you asked of him. This all seems unreal. He swore he would never hurt you, and you believed him. You believed him with every ounce of your being because he was Eddie. Sweet, kind, loyal, goofy, loving Eddie. You didn’t know who this person standing in front of you was. But it sure as hell wasn’t the man you fell in love with. 

He looks at you, even though you’re putting on a brave face, like you always do, he can see how vulnerable you are. Your hands come up and wrap around yourself. He wants nothing more than to stop this. To hug you and kiss you and tell you you’re his universe. 

“Say it” you raise your voice. “Say it Eddie, and I’ll leave”. And you would. You would leave his life, if that’s what he wanted. But only if he said it. You know that Eddie could never look you in the eye and lie to you. So if he’s going to say it, he must really mean it. 

Eddie pushes himself off the wall, stepping closer to you. You breathe in his familiar scent, a mix of cologne, cigarettes and weed, thinking it might be the last time.  

Don’t say it, Munson. Be selfish, he thinks. Say it was all a mistake, drop to your knees and beg for her forgiveness. As much as he wants to, he knows he’s doing the right thing for you. As much as it kills him, he has to make you leave him, because he knows he could never leave you. 

“I don’t love you anymore” His face is wooden as he looks you in the eyes. Confusion, anger and defeat infiltrate your bones. Your heart is scorched and spasming. He really didn’t love you. Your Eddie didn’t love you anymore.

He opens the door to his trailer, stepping aside to make room for you “Now leave.” 

Present day

A loud banging noise on the door pulls you out of your reverie. “In a minute” you yell and look at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were red and puffy, mascara running down your face. Well, aren’t you a sight to see? you think to yourself. You try your best to fix your makeup and pull yourself together before exiting the bathroom.  

There’s a line of pissed off girls waiting outside the door, giving you dirty looks and making rude side comments as you walk past them “Jesus, how much coke did this bitch snort?” a redhead snickers. You ignore them and make your way to the bar, ordering another beer. You feel a bit of tension being relieved as the cold liquid pours down your throat, making you forget about everything for just a second. As quickly as it went away, it all comes flooding back in. 

Breaking up with Eddie was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to go through. First, it was despair, excruciating pain that wouldn’t let you eat, sleep or do anything else than think about him. You called this the withdrawal stage. Every bone in your body was craving for him, and punishing you for not supplying. You figured you just had to sweat it out until he was out of your system. Although it was hard, you managed to make it through. But then came the dreams. Tortured dreams, reminiscent of your time spent with Eddie. You would dream about him laughing, embracing you, kissing you, making love to you, only to wake up heartbroken and alone, sobbing his name into your pillow. Now, it’s just this numbness and emptiness that never really goes away. It’s worse than the withdrawal or the dreams, because you’re starting to see things as they are. Before, there was a glimmer of hope that maybe you would get back together. But at this moment in time, you’re haunted by the thought of spending your life without Eddie by your side. And that’s something you would never be able to get used to.

These past few months have been a struggle trying to remember what life was like before Eddie. You go out with your friends, party, have meaningless one night stands and then do it all again the next day. It was all monotone, but for now, it was better than crying yourself to sleep. 

Someone bumps into your back, making you stumble forward. You grab the countertop for stability and turn around, prepared to snap at the culprit. 

“Hey, ass-“ your voice sticks in your throat when you see that familiar head of hair and that charming smile every girl in your high school used to swoon over.  “Steve?” you stare at him, dumbfounded. For the first time in months, you actually feel true happiness. 

“Oh my god, Y/N!” the very next second he pulls you into a tight, smothering hug, knocking the air out of you. As glad as you are to see him, and you truly are, it’s a bit difficult to breathe with Steve squeezing the life out of you.

“Steve-can’t-breathe…” you try and say, face buried into his chest. He lets go of you, but leaves his hands on your shoulders as if he can’t believe you’re actually there.  

“Wow, look at ya! I almost didn’t recognise you, and I mean that in a good way” he smirks as he looks you up and down, taking in your outfit. Your style had changed a bit since the whole…Eddie thing. The colourful, decent pants and blouses being substituted by darker coloured, bolder dresses and skirts.  

“So what’s up?” He finally lets go of you and motions for you to sit down in the stools. 

“Nothing much. I’m here with some friends from college. But what about you? You’re quite a long way from Hawkings. What brings you here?” You see him shift uncomfortably in his seat at your question, picking at the label of the beer he had ordered for himself. 

“Oh, uh…you don’t know?” 

“Know what?” were you supposed to know something? “Ohmygod, did someone die? Is it Robin? It is, isn’t it? I always knew that clumsy lump would get herself killed one day!" 

"What? No!" He stops your rambling 

"Oh, thank God" you look at him relieved, with a hand over your chest "What's the occasion then?" 

"Uh well you see-" 

Steve gets interrupted by a mans hand on his shoulder. "Hey Steve, they're gonna start playing soon so you should come now if you wanna get a spot in the front" 

"Right! Thanks man, I'll be right there" The man leaves and Steve's attention returns to you, his eyes still looking at you in a cautious and unsure manner. "Y/N, you really don't now who's playing tonight?" 

"No, they usually don't have live bands and if they do I don't really care much for them, I just come for the bottomless Martinis and the cheap beer" you laugh, but Steve seems to be far from amused. "Why? Who's playing?" 

As Steve opens his mouth to respond to you, he's interrupted by the sound of a guitar. An all to familiar voice speaks into the microphone, generating playback: "1,2,1,2…Alright, good evening ladies and gents. Hope you are all ready to rooock tonight, 'cause I know we are"

Your heart reacts before your brain, tightening at the voice you hear blasting through the speakers. Although you spend all your time fighting to forget that voice..it remains imprinted on your mind and soul. 

You slowly turn around, looking to the stage at the back of the bar. "I am Eddie Munson and it is my pleasure to introduce to you... Corroded Coffin! Let's get it boys!" 

To be continued