#real life interludes

[midnightrager]

young rachel and regent margin doodles (on interlude 11f)

[cowboybrunch]

i typed up a bit of liam's pov a while back and dropped it while fussing with draft 3 of botrd but

"child stalks people he thinks will die soon so he can catch and confront his grim reaper friend who disappeared after his mom got murdered" is a whole story

does he escalate? experiment with what draws Mortae and what doesn't? liam serial killer au might not be an au after all

[tritoch]

the other thing I find very funny about trying to write a canon compliant wol is taking all the wolship hints extremely seriously.

I don't really wolship because I'm just fundamentally not that kind of fan. But I know for those who are, the sheer number of romance hints FFXIV throws at you can be overwhelming to parse in a context where you have a preferred/intended wolship, particularly if you're not attracted to the gender the hints are coming from in the first place (a particular tip of the hat to wlw fans navigating the g'raha of it all). I've seen plenty of people write around them or write them out or be like "no aymeric was for real inviting my wol to a nice platonic zero-subtext dinner," and God bless all of you.

But it's really funny to imagine them all as all-too-real but unreciprocated or perhaps unreciprocatable. The sheer scale of it is comedy. Spoilers for all of FFXIV follow.

Oh God, the Lord Speaker wants to have dinner, just the two of us, at his family estate and not a government building. I hope he doesn't bring up his crush on me. Thal's balls he's about to bring it up—oh thank God there's an emergency. Oh no someone got hurt! Oh no it's the teenage girl with a crush on me.

Your life is a cosmic joke. You watch the Sultana get poisoned and all your friends probably die to save your life and it's kind of all your fault in some ways, I mean at the very least you should've spoken up when they gave the teenager a private army, and then the teenage boy speaks up and is like, "hey, I guess we have at least one ally. What about if we go visit that guy who is really obviously down unbelievably bad for you and wants to lick the sweat off of you." and you have to be like, yeah, Alphinaud. Great idea. Let's do it. I'll call him.

(brief interlude: also haurchefant's DEATH hits so good if you don't reciprocate. It's okay. He gets it. You're going through a lot and even if you had time to sort through your feelings maybe you're just not into him. That would be okay! You can love someone, or the idea of someone, without needing it to be romantically reciprocated. That's chivalric, even. Knightly. So he won't ask you to lie to him and say you love him as he lies dying in your arms. He's not so low as all that. But could you smile for him as you used to? That true hero's smile of yours. And you do, and he dies. And you both know he died for a lie, in a way, or a flight of fancy. And he's okay with that. Are you? Should you be? Should he?)

Then you're into Stormblood and it's like wow, okay. That last part was all high fantasy, of course there were loyal knights and elegant princes. But this is war. Imperialism. Grim business, surely there's no way—oh no BOTH handsome young revolutionary leaders seem to have a special interest in you?! And so does the Crown Prince of the Empire? Come on, man. I should get to do the whole horrors of war thing without having to also deal with this. Gaius sucked and it was weird that he let his foster daughter run around being openly obsessed with him but at least he never made it my problem.

You can't even get away from it across dimensions. Shadowbringers is a horror story about going on a teambuilding camping trip with your work colleagues for some reason except they all suddenly got really hot and they keep touching you affectionately on the shoulder and being like "I care for you and your happiness. Truly." And also you're being stalked for the whole camping trip by two old men who are obsessed with you. The false climax of the story is that the one old man tries to betray you and give a dramatic monologue about how he loves you but the two of you are doomed by the narrative and then the other old man shoots him in the back like "no actually its MY turn to betray them and give a dramatic monologue about how our love is doomed by the narrative." Then the real climax is old man #1 backstabbing old man #2 in the middle of said monologue before old man #2 dies and gives ANOTHER wistful monologue about his doomed love. Then for the patches they're like okay so we have this even CRAZIER old man who's gonna strike when you're weak and give a dramatic monolo—

and that's without even getting into the literal soulmate ghost only you can see

my warrior of light never felt more betrayed than in that scene where Y'shtola is like "haha Alisaie and G'raha have crushes on the warrior of light." Like I thought we were COOL, Y'shtola! I work here! This situation is already in such a delicate balance! Right when I got here I met Alisaie's "friend from work" who was like oh haha so YOU'RE the one she can't stop talking about and we never followed up on that because the woman died horrifically like five minutes later right in front of us! Then when Vauthry got away and we had to do all that shit with the dwarves, G'raha kept pausing every ten minutes to be like oooooh I'm so old I'm gonna die soon...at least I got to spend some time with some people who are really important to me...in fact here's what I'd tell the person who's most important to me...actually u know them really well haha. And I just had to sit there and be like wow, dude, crazy.

even in the face of apocalypse you still gotta go back in time like 12,000 years and there's somewhere there who makes you sit and listen to his story which is that the purpose of his whole godlike immortal life was to be in a throuple with you and old man #2 from the camping trip. and you just gotta sit there the whole time knowing you/your past life is the one who broke up the throuple over politics. He's like come help me harangue the old man into streaking in public, he'll do it if you ask.

then you meet and fight and kill God and you gotta turn to the team and be like hey sorry guys can you give me a sec. I'm gonna call God by her real name because we met one time for like four days and after that the promise of meeting me again was one of the things that sustained her through her millennia of suffering. Not like that but like. Idk. Just gimme a sec!

It's a relief when you finally get to Lahabrea and he's like actually I still don't fuck with your vibe. Like thank GOD.

And my WoL is very obviously dad-shaped so Dawntrail had a very specific energy for me but I understand that for plenty of people your deepening rapport with Wuk Lamat had a romantic subtext (same for Koana depending on how you read a few of his lines). And personally I think it's the height of comedy to be like, noooo, babe, your highness, I know you and your brother the king are in love with me and want me to stick around and support you emotionally through this governmental transition haha. But it's just...the cursed wineglass, babe. I GOTTA go figure out what's up with this cursed wineglass.

It's a running gag in some of the more optional content that people are like "you have an unreasonable number of hobbies and side gigs" to the WoL from time to time. But if every time you tried picking up a new hobby some new elf started baring their soul to you, you too would be like Hey Jessie (or sometimes Krile or Tataru), my good friend who is one of the only people in my life who knows what professional ethics and work-life boundaries are, any chance you need muscle on a gig on the other side of the world? Ideally with only Cid and his ex so all libidinal energy in the room is directed towards machinery or someone who isn't me?

ironically one of the only places you get a break from psychosexual obsession is the nier content

[mediocre-writing]

Fic recs Yoongi

Some fics I read this week, and I need to make people read them too lol I'll probably do it with the other members too.

Interlude | MYG | Series Masterlist @yoongiofmine (Idol!Yoongi X Deaf!Reader)

Summary: All Yoongi wanted was to use the last few months before enlisting to work on his solo projects, prepare for his tour. When the silence left around him as his members started to go one by one got too loud, he needed to find something else to fill in the void. But Yoongi would never have guessed that it would come in the form of you… Someone he would never expect to fall in love with.

– This is simply the most beautiful Yoongi series I've ever read.

——

The Consequences of Fucking Up @borathae

“Your break up was messy and painful. All you want to do is to forget about him. His friends, who ever since you ended it with Yoongi see you as their bullying target, make sure that the memory of him stays fresh in your mind however, haunting you day by fucking day. While Yoongi makes it seem as if he gives no fuck about your situation. Until one night he is in front of your door. Drunk and fucking regretful.”

– You won't regret reading it, trust me.

——

his entire world | min yoongi x f!reader | a serendipitous life series @serendipitous-seven

summary: you and yoongi are trying to enjoy your friends' wedding with a very fussy baby

– THIS WAS ONE OF THE SOFTEST THINGS I'VE EVER READ 😭💞

——

F*ck Tradition | Yoongi @dancinglikebutterflywings ( Min Yoongi x Fiancee!Reader)

- Synopsis: Y/N takes Yoongi with her to go wedding dress shopping because her fiancées opinion is the only one that matters.

– I feel like this story and this writer deserves much more recognition, MY GOD IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL.

—

you're okay | myg (m) @taegularities

Summary: Let it hurt and burn. Let it out; and then let it fade away. Let it heal. Yoongi can't lift all your burdens, but he has taught you at least this much over the years.

– This here comforted my heart in a way 😭😭💞💞

—

ex-things - m.yg. @namfinessed

summary: over the years, everything you've owned has belonged to yoongi and everything yoongi's owned has belonged to you but when you break up, everything is your's and everything is his but none of it belongs to the two of you anymore and both of you can't stand it.

– That was adorable and made me smile like a fool.

—

impression | yg @namjoonchronicles

↳ summary many forgot that when you marry someone, you marry their family too, at least that’s how Asian family is like

– This is so cute, I love the husband!Yoongi

—

The Final - Day 02 | MYG | ONESHOT @yoongiofmine

Summary: You've been Yoongi's go-to companion for the past few years, well aware that's all you were going to be. Despite your very real, growing feelings for the rapper, you took what you could get every time. Now, you're backstage at day two of the final leg of his tour when another member takes an interest in you. Will it be enough to make Yoongi realize he's got competition?

– it made me wild and crazy

—

dissertation | yg @namjoonchronicles

↳ summary many people doubted your union, how exactly an artist with as much influence as yoongi be a husband to a wife that is still studying. 

– Yoon being the person we all need, This writer is wonderful, please give him a chance. (I'm telling you this writer is amazing)

—

Shy - Yoongi X Reader @7ndipity

Summary: You’re desperately craving your boyfriend's attention, but are too shy to ask for it outright. Luckily, Yoongi knows what you want anyway.

– This is something cute and warm.

—

YES, I WILL DO MORE BECAUSE WE HAVE MANY TALENTED WRITERS.

[valeisaslut]

⭒࿐COLLIDE - c. three

credits for the fanart: nramvv - edited by me

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐖𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄,

𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀.

← 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑜 | 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 | 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟 →

⚢ pairing: Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Popstar!Reader 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭒ synopsis: A single Instagram story accidentally hard-launches something that isn’t even real. Or at least, isn’t supposed to be. A fake date at an overpriced restaurant turns into a game of push and pull, stolen glances, and tension so thick it’s impossible to ignore. You tell yourself it’s nothing, but at 3 AM, you’re alone in the studio, writing lyrics you shouldn’t be writing, thinking about her in ways you shouldn’t be thinking. And then Ellie texts. And suddenly, the lines you’ve been so desperate to keep blurred don’t seem so thin. 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭒ word count: 7,5k 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭒ content: smut, top!ellie, sub!reader, fingering (r!receiving), praise, tit play, begging, edging, being recorded, pet names, fake dating, LOTS of cursing, use of y/n, modern au, mention of cigarettes, alcohol and drugs, afab!reader, multiple part series, MEN AND MINORS DNI, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated 𖥔 ݁ ˖

TMZ EXCLUSIVE: Y/N AND ELLIE WILLIAMS HARD-LAUNCH—AND THE INTERNET IS IN SHAMBLES! 🔥🚨

Los Angeles, CA – Buckle up, besties. If you thought Y/N’s infamous walk of shame was the peak of her chaotic love life—oh, sweet summer child, think again. 👀

Because last night? She didn’t just confirm her situationship with Ellie Williams.

Oh, no.

She hard-launched it with the subtlety of a car crash. A 50-car pileup on the freeway of gay panic.

And it was GLORIOUS.

HERE’S HOW IT WENT DOWN:

At exactly 3:17 AM (because of course, the chaos begins at that hour), our favorite pop star dropped the bomb on Instagram in the most unhinged, beautiful way possible. 

The post? Ellie Williams, peak domestic chaos, sprawled on y/n’s couch like she just got evicted from a frat house. Hair a mess, tattoos flexing, wearing nothing but a tank top and sweats, scrolling through her phone like she’s too cool to care. And the coup de grâce? In front of her—a post-Taco Bell battlefield so disastrous it could get them both banned from the establishment for life.

But the caption? Oh, the caption sealed the deal:

“she eats like a mf frat boy but somehow still looks hot. life is unfair.”

And as if the chaos wasn’t already unhinged enough—oh yeah, they were absolutely high. Very high. The kind of high that makes you think posting your girlfriend looking like a hot human raccoon on the couch is a brilliant PR move. 👀🍃

And you know what?

She was right.

THE INTERNET MELTDOWN, A PLAY-BY-PLAY:

Within seconds—literally, SECONDS—Twitter went into full-blown DEFCON 1 over the fact that two of the most famous musicians on the planet had just hard-launched their situationship like it was a surprise album drop.

Hashtags?

🔹 #YNandEllie → #1 worldwide 🔹 #HardLaunchOfTheCentury → A cultural reset 🔹 #TacoBellSponsorshipWHEN → Officially liked by Taco Bell

Fan reactions? 

📌 Gay Twitter? Collapsed.

📌 Stan accounts? Frothing at the mouth.

📌 The straights? Confused, scared, and overwhelmed.

Meme accounts went feral. In less than ten minutes, there were already:

☑️ Fan edits set to indie love songs ☑️ AI-generated wedding invitations ☑️ A Change.org petition for them to adopt a dog or a cat together. ☑️ The Wikipedia page for “lesbianism” updated with the post

Even Netflix got involved:

“This has more plot than anything we released this year.”

Meanwhile, Taco Bell issued a statement:

“Ellie & y/n—free Crunchwraps for life if you let us cater the wedding.”

BUT WAIT— WHAT ABOUT THE WALK OF SHAME?

Let’s rewind. Less than 24 hours before this nuclear-level hard launch, y/n was caught leaving The Four Seasons at sunrise, looking like she had just gone three rounds with fate itself.

And whose hotel was it? Oh, you already know— Ellie Williams’.

And now, here we are. Less than a day later, and these two have skipped the “we’re just friends” gaslighting phase entirely. No damage control. No frantic PR statements. Just pure, unfiltered chaos.💥

We have never seen a sneaky link accept its fate this fast.

SO, WHAT HAPPENS NOW?

Absolute radio silence from both of them. Ellie’s only move? Liking a tweet that said:

“The stages of sneaky links: 1) Deny. 2) Get caught. 3) Accept your fate.”

Meanwhile, y/n—aka the woman who just revealed to the entire world that she is down horrendously bad for her formerly alleged situationship-sneaky link-wife-girlfriend?— Probably just vibing with the chaos she just caused.

One thing’s for sure: this isn’t just a fling anymore.

Stay tuned. 😏🔥

🔗RELATED: TMZ EXCLUSIVE: Y/N’S MYSTERIOUS WALK OF SHAME… STRAIGHT OUT OF ELLIE WILLIAMS’ HOTEL? 👀🔥

────────────

❤️ 15M — 💬 525,76k

The thing about PR nightmares is that they don’t wait for you to wake up, brush your teeth, and ease into your morning with a cup of coffee and the false hope that today will be a quiet one. 

No. They come in swinging into your life like a wrecking ball, uninvited and merciless, dragging you out of your peaceful oblivion straight into a digital inferno.

By the time you fully grasp the severity of the situation, both of your faces are everywhere. The internet has already devoured every single detail and spat it back out in the form of conspiracy theories and enough memes to fuel an entire generation’s humor.

Twitter is a minefield of hot takes. Instagram is worse—a visual onslaught of dissected moments, captions teetering between adoration and sheer lunacy.

The gossip pages have lost all chill—headlines range from mildly invasive ("Is This The Couple of the Year?"),  to outright deranged ("Leaked Timeline of y/n and Ellie Williams’s Secret Romance—Are They ALREADY Engaged?!").

And then there are the memes.

Oh, God, the memes. You want to be mad, you really do—but some of them? Undeniably hilarious. The internet, when motivated, can be disturbingly creative. You’d probably laugh your ass off if your life wasn’t currently being sacrificed at the altar of social media hysteria.

You don’t even realize you’ve been doom-scrolling until Ellie’s voice slices through the thick silence of your apartment.

“You look like you’re watching your own funeral.”

You jolt so fast your phone nearly goes flying out of your hands. Spinning around, you find her standing in your kitchen, barefoot, sleep-mussed, and nursing a cup of coffee like she hasn’t just casually walked into the eye of a social media hurricane. The mug in her hands—the one she picked out of your weird mug collection—boldly declares: “Lesbians Fear Me, Bisexuals Love Me, Straight People Think I’m Just Going Through a Phase.”

Goddamn it, that’s one of your favorites.

You groan and collapse face-first onto the couch, voice muffled into the cushions. “Ellie, we are so fucked.”

She snorts, padding over with the kind of calm that only someone who thrives in chaos can pull off. “Nah. We just need to, y’know… do something before Rachel bursts into flames.”

Oh, right. Rachel.

Your manager has texted you no fewer than a hundred times since sunrise. The last message, sent precisely at 6:12 AM, had been chilling in its simplicity:

Rachel: Fix this.

Easier said than done.

You exhale sharply, rolling onto your back, phone clutched to your chest like it might explode. “This is a disaster.”

Ellie, looking entirely unbothered by the world-ending-level of public meltdown currently unfolding, plops onto the couch beside you. She stretches out, propping her feet on the coffee table—your coffee table, in your apartment.

“Look,” she says, reaching over to steal a cold fry from last night’s half-eaten takeout “we only have one option: owning the narrative.”

You press your hands over your face, groaning.

The problem is, she isn’t wrong. If you lean into it—carefully, tactfully—you might actually steer the storm instead of getting swallowed by it.

Ellie, still lounging like this is all some elaborate joke for her own amusement, nudges you with her foot. “We should make a post.”

You blink at her. “Like… an official statement?”

She shrugs. “Yeah. Something like that. Vague, casual. Let people read into it however they want.”

Your stomach twists. The internet already thinks it knows what’s happening—does it really matter what you say at this point?

“And if it backfires?”

Ellie chews thoughtfully. Swallows. Shrugs again. “Then we fake-break up in, like, two months and traumatize the entire internet.”

You snort despite yourself, the first crack in your anxiety. “Jesus Christ.”

She grins, eyes glinting. “That’s the spirit.”

“Fine” you mutter. “Let’s write the damn thing.”

With a sigh, you sit up and pull up Instagram. Ellie shifts closer, propping her chin on your shoulder, watching as your fingers hover uncertainly over the keyboard. The warmth of her breath against your skin is distracting.

Ellie reaches over, steals another fry—practically from your lap this time. “Make sure you put something about Taco Bell sponsoring us. I spent more than a hundred bucks last night.”

You roll your eyes but start typing.

OFFICIAL STATEMENT March 10, 2025 Regarding Recent Speculation So, yeah. We’re together. Hope that clears things up. What started as an unexpected friendship has grown into something we both value deeply. While this wasn’t exactly how we planned to share our relationship with the world, we appreciate the love and support from those who have been kind and respectful. As for the rest, go touch some grass. Please. At the end of the day, we’re just two people trying to live our lives, except with a few more cameras in our faces and significantly less chill.  From here on out, we’d like to keep the focus on what actually matters to us: music, minding our own business, and continuing to order unreasonable amounts of (pls sponsor us) Taco Bell. Much love,

y/n & Ellie🤍

The second you hit ‘Post’ on the Instagram story, your phone practically detonates.

Notifications flood in like a tsunami, buzzing so aggressively it might just explode in your hand. Your screen lights up in a relentless cascade of likes, retweets, and absolute chaos. Tweets skyrocket in real-time. Comments pour in at an overwhelming speed. Chaotic posts multiply by the second, some so unhinged you can’t even begin to process them. Already wildly inaccurate headlines spread like wildfire.

Ellie, still beside you, scrolls lazily through them, smirking. “They’re losing their minds.”

You groan, dropping your phone onto the couch and pressing your palms into your eyes. “This is so unhinged.”

Ellie tilts her head at you, the picture of nonchalance. “Eh. Could’ve been worse.”

You peek at her warily. “How?”

Her grin is pure mischief, eyes glinting with the kind of chaos that should come with a warning label.

“We could’ve gone live.”

You roll your eyes and smack her with a pillow.

Ellie was half-draped over her couch, the cigarette dangling from her lips two seconds from ashing onto her hoodie. She was strumming the most butchered, off-key version of Stairway to Heaven the world had ever suffered through—on purpose, because it was funnier that way.

Her phone buzzed against her stomach. She groaned, rolling her eyes so hard she nearly saw last week, took one last drag from her cigarette before grinding it out in an old mug, and checked the caller ID.

Rachel.

Ellie groaned harder, the sound escalating into something inhuman as she debated the pros and cons of throwing her phone across the room. Ultimately, she answered, pressing the speaker button because lifting her arm was simply too much work.

“How the fuck did you both get my number—”

“Tomorrow night. Eight o’clock. You and y/n. Dinner. Pick her up. Fancy but not too fancy. Cozy but not too cozy. Like honeymoon phase but still fresh. Got it?”

She bulldozed through her sentence like a freight train on a tight schedule, and Ellie hadn’t even had time to think before it was over. She let her head thunk against the back of the couch, guitar sliding off her lap with a lazy thud.

“Rachel.”

“Ellie.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. And even if you did, you’d still be going to dinner with her tomorrow because you both decided to play pretend lovers of the century for the internet three days ago, and now, surprise! You have to commit.”

Ellie groaned dramatically, flicking her lighter open and shut. “Well, at least I’ll get a free meal out of it.”

“You’re paying.”

Ellie sat up so fast she nearly rolled off the couch. “Excuse me?”

Rachel hung up.

Across town, you were lying flat on your bed, staring at the ceiling, contemplating whether or not it was worth the effort to grab the water bottle sitting a mere three feet away. You had accepted that dehydration might just be your fate when your phone rang. You blindly reached for it, barely checking the caller ID before answering.

“No.”

“Yes,” Rachel said, unphased. “Dinner. You and Ellie. Tomorrow night. Be charming. Look in love. Don’t do that thing where you act like you physically cannot be perceived while eating in public.”

You blinked. “Why would I do that? Why would I ever do that?”

“You did it last time.”

“That was different. That was 2 AM takeout.”

“Regardless,” Rachel pressed on, clearly unimpressed with your excuses, “wear something nice. Order a fancy wine. And the paparazzi will be there, so make it look good.”

You exhaled sharply, already regretting being alive. “How good are we talking?”

She hummed, like she was debating how much pain to inflict. “Comfortable. Playful. A couple of lingering touches, a cute moment or two. Laugh at her jokes like she’s the funniest person you’ve ever met.”

“She’s not that funny.”

“Then pretend.”

You scoffed, throwing an arm over your eyes. “Anything else, director?”

“Yes. And please, for the love of God, don’t give the paps the middle finger this time.”

You sat up, deeply offended. “That was one time.”

“It was three times.”

“Okay, but in my defense, they deserved it.”

Rachel wasn’t amused. “Tomorrow. Eight. Don’t be late.”

And then she hung up, leaving you staring at your phone, deeply unprepared for the fact that you now had a very official date. With Ellie.

You groaned, flopping back onto your bed with all the enthusiasm of a medieval poet dying from heartbreak.

“Well…” you muttered to yourself. “A date is a date.”

The restaurant was the kind of place where secrets were whispered over candlelight, and fortunes changed hands beneath the weight of silk napkins. Dim lighting pooled in golden circles beneath chandeliers, casting flickering shadows against dark wood paneling. It was designed for intimacy—hushed conversations, stolen glances, the illusion that the outside world didn’t exist.

But tonight, that illusion was paper-thin.

The moment you stepped inside, you felt it. The shift in the air. The subtle tightening of shoulders at nearby tables. A murmur of recognition stirred beneath the soft clinking of glasses, and just past the curve of the bar, someone’s phone tilted, camera lens catching both of your faces.

Ellie noticed it too. Her fingers brushed the small of your back—light, steady, deliberate. Not quite possessive, but close. Just enough to send a message, though whether it was for you or the watchful eyes around you, you weren’t sure.

“Looks like they already caught on,” she muttered, her breath warm against your ear.

You didn’t turn, just reached for the menu as you slid into the booth. “Let them watch.”

Ellie smirked, leaning back into the seat across from you. The leather creaked under her weight. She stretched, lazy and unbothered, but her gaze never left yours.

“So...” she said, voice edged with amusement. “First official date.”

You snorted, flipping the menu open as a distraction. “Yeah. Fake dating my one-night stand. Super fun. SUPER normal.”

Ellie huffed out a quiet laugh. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to lean in to the chaos.”

You glanced up at her, lips twitching. “Yeah, well. Maybe I didn’t think it through.” 

Ellie smirked, setting her glass down. “That makes two of us”

The waiter appeared before you could argue, cutting through the tension like a knife. Orders were placed. The conversation settled into something almost comfortable—almost. Beneath it, a charge still hummed, too close to be ignored.

You hated how good she looked.

The loose black button-up, sleeves rolled to reveal the intricate ink winding around her forearms. The way the candlelight flickered against her silver rings as she toyed with the rim of her whiskey glass. She looked effortless, unfairly so, like she wasn’t aware of the effect she had on people. The effect she had on you.

She caught you staring.

“What?” Ellie’s lips curled slightly, eyes flicking over your face.

You shook your head, feigning indifference. “Nothing.”

Ellie didn’t buy it. She leaned in, elbows resting on the table, voice dropping into something lower, smoother. “You sure about that?”

You exhaled. “Just wondering how long it’ll take before someone posts a blurry picture of us with a dramatic caption.”

Ellie tilted her head, thinking. “Probably already happened.”

She wasn’t wrong. Your phone, face-down on the table, had been buzzing intermittently all night. And yet, for once, you had no urge to check it. No urge to confirm what you already knew—that the world was watching, dissecting every look, every movement, every stray touch.

But for a fleeting second, you let yourself forget.

The laughter and conversation had faded, leaving behind something heavier—something unspoken. Ellie was watching you again, fingers drumming a lazy rhythm against the table.

You exhaled through your nose, swirling the wine in your glass before taking a sip. “You’re staring.”

Ellie didn’t flinch. Didn’t even pretend to look away. If anything, the weight of her gaze intensified, dragging over your face, your lips, the way your fingers curled around the stem of your glass.

“Can’t help it,” she murmured, voice low, rough at the edges. “You’re really selling this whole madly-in-love-with-me thing.”

The words sent a sharp jolt through you—annoyance, something hotter, something dangerous. You set your glass down with a quiet clink, leveling her with a look.

“You’re insufferable.”

Ellie leaned in, elbows resting on the table, her smirk deepening. Her voice dropped just enough to make your pulse stutter.

“And yet,” she drawled, “here you are, madly in love with me.”

It was infuriating—the cocky glint in her eyes, the way she was too close and somehow still not close enough.

You wanted to shove her away. You wanted to yank her closer.

Instead, you inhaled, slow and measured, smoothing the irritation from your face. You reached across the table, your fingers sliding over hers—warm, steady, deliberate. Your touch lingered, just enough to watch her expression shift.

Ellie’s smirk faltered. Just for a second.

Good.

You leaned in, voice sweet, syrupy, laced with something lethal.

“Of course, baby,” you cooed, lacing your fingers through hers. “You’re the love of my life.”

Ellie stilled. Her eyes flickered—just briefly, just enough. Then, just as quickly, she recovered, her thumb grazing over your knuckles.

Her smirk curled back into place, but now? Now, you could tell it wasn’t quite as easy as before.

“Damn right” she murmured.

It was nothing. A move for the cameras. A game you’d both agreed to play.

So why did it feel like something was shifting?

Outside, cameras flashed.

Inside, the world felt smaller, quieter, like the space between you had its own gravity.

Ellie never posted much.

Not about herself. Not about anyone. But tonight? Tonight was different.

The Instagram story went up without warning. No buildup, no context, just a single photo.

You, mid-laugh, wine glass in hand, bathed in candlelight. The kind of effortless, unguarded moment that made it impossible to look away. Shadows curled along your cheekbones, the soft glow making you look almost unreal, like something out of a dream.

No tags. No emojis. No overcomplicated caption. Just four quiet, devastating words:

"yeah, i'm done for."

A confession disguised as nothing. A moment so simple, so fleeting—yet it hit like a seismic shift.

The internet, once again, was in shambles.

The studio smelled like stale coffee and old vinyl, the air thick with the kind of silence that only existed at this hour. It was late—too late. The kind of late that blurred the edges of logic, where exhaustion made everything feel heavier, where thoughts you’d spent all day avoiding started creeping back in.

You hadn’t meant to be here. Hadn’t meant to sit in this chair, pen in hand, staring at the blank page in your notebook like it held the answer to a question you weren’t ready to ask.

But here you were.

Another night. Another week. 

Another failed attempt to convince yourself that this wasn’t a problem.

The guitar rested against your thigh, its weight grounding, familiar, a piece of you as much as the heartbeat in your chest. But every chord you strummed felt wrong. Off. Like the melody was trying to tell you something you weren’t ready to hear.

You sighed, dragging a hand down your face before picking up the pen. The words came before you could stop them.

It’s 3 AM and the moon looks different Or maybe it’s just my state of mind Tried to leave you somewhere distant But you keep slipping between the lines

You stared at them, heart pounding harder than it should have been.

I shouldn’t be thinking about you

You hesitated, then scratched it out. The fuck was that?

Outside, the city pulsed—neon signs flickering, distant laughter spilling from bars, car horns and sirens blending into the night like white noise. The world kept moving, unaware. Unbothered.

Unlike you.

Because inside this room, in this quiet that felt too sharp, it was just you and the ghost of someone who wasn’t even here.

She was probably asleep right now, tangled in sheets that smelled like her and not like you. Peaceful, unbothered, unaware of the fact that you were wide awake in a room that suddenly felt too small. That you were trying, and failing, to put whatever the hell you were feeling about her into words.

You exhaled sharply, leaning back in your chair.

This is stupid.

And yet—

Your fingers twitched, your grip tightening around the pen, and before you could stop yourself, you wrote.

You leave fingerprints on my skin Like I was meant to be touched by you Like you knew me in a past life And kept coming back just to haunt me

The words sat there, and suddenly they weren't just lyrics anymore.

It was her.

The way she looked at you—too intense, like she saw through every excuse, every careful lie you told yourself.

The way her voice settled in your bones, low and lazy, curling around the edges of your thoughts when you least expected it.

The way she touched you—casual, careless, like she didn’t even realize she was leaving pieces of herself behind. But at the same time, she was taking parts of you too, until you weren’t sure where she ended and you began.

And you hated it.

Hated that no matter how many songs you wrote or how many sleepless nights you spent thinking about her, she still lingered in every corner of your mind. Hated that no matter how many times you tried to convince yourself this was fake—just a fleeting thought, just a name, just a PR stunt—it never felt fake. And even now, even here, your fingers betrayed you against the chords of your guitar, tracing a slow, aching melody.

Something soft and low.

Something that sounded too much like her.

You let the song take shape, let it spill out in half-finished lyrics and messy scribbles, in chords that felt like confessions you’d never say to her face.

And when the song finally ended, it wasn’t careful.

It wasn't filtered through logic or reason or the rules you were supposed to be following.

It was just the truth.

The sharp vibration of your phone against the wooden table nearly made you jump. The sound cut through the quiet hum of the studio, through the half-finished melody still hanging in the air.

You stared at the screen, pulse quickening before your brain could catch up.

Ellie.

Her name glowed against the dim light, as if you had summoned her with thought. An interruption, a warning—an inevitability.

You hesitated, fingers twitching against the notebook, the unfinished lyrics glaring up at you like they knew something you didn’t. Like they were daring you to answer.

A part of you wanted to ignore it. To pretend you hadn’t seen it.

But your resolve had never been strong when it came to her.

Your thumb hovered before unlocking the screen. The message sat there, simple, unreadable.

Ellie: you up?

You exhaled slowly, rubbing at your tired eyes. Of course, she knew. Knew you couldn’t sleep. Knew exactly how your mind worked, how it never let you rest.

Another vibration.

Ellie: don’t lie

A small, bitter smile tugged at your lips. It wasn’t a question. She already knew the answer.

You tapped the keyboard, typed, erased, typed again.

You: why?

The ellipsis appeared immediately. Then, a pause. A hesitation.

Ellie: idk

Ellie: just thinking

Your stomach twisted. That was the thing about Ellie—she never said too much. Just enough to get inside your head. Just enough to make you wonder.

Ellie: can’t sleep

You should’ve said something simple. Something easy, something that didn’t open doors you weren’t ready to walk through.

But this was Ellie.

And maybe you were tired of pretending.

You: me neither

The words felt like an admission, but it still wasn’t enough. Something about the silence between texts, the space where she was waiting for more, made your fingers tighten around your phone.

The air in the studio felt heavier now, thick with the quiet things you weren’t saying. The song in your notebook was unfinished, just like this—whatever the fuck this was.

You stared at the screen, heart knocking against your ribs.

Fuck it.

Before you could overthink it, before you could talk yourself out of it—

You: come over

A pause. Too long, too quiet. You held your breath.

Then, finally—

Ellie: omw

The knock on the studio door nearly sent you out of your chair.

3:47 a.m.

Another knock—sharper this time, more impatient.

You exhaled, pressing your palms against the desk before pushing yourself up. You rolled the tension from your shoulders, stepping over half-crumpled lyric sheets.

Ellie stood in the doorway, hoodie half-zipped, hands buried in her pockets, wearing that kind of expression that made your stomach clench.

“Wow” she drawled, leaning against the doorframe like she had all the time in the world. “You look like shit.”

You exhaled sharply, already regretting responding to that fucking text. “Nice to see you too, Ellie.”

“Always a pleasure, sweetheart” she shot back, smirk widening. “You gonna let me in, or should I start serenading you from the hallway? ‘Cause I will. And it’ll be bad.”

Rolling your eyes, you stepped aside. “It already is.”

Ellie snorted as she walked in, the scent of her—faint cologne, cigarettes, something familiar—stirring something restless in your chest. She wandered over to your desk, eyes sweeping over the chaos of half-filled notebooks, your laptop, empty coffee cups, and a sad little pile of crumpled snack wrappers.

“Jesus” she muttered, toeing at a discarded water bottle. “You been here all night?”

You ran a hand over your face. “Yeah. Some of us actually have to work.”

Ellie scoffed, dropping into the chair across from you, arms slung over the backrest. “Some of us are also working. I’ve got an album to finish, remember?”

You huffed out a tired laugh, rubbing your eyes. “Oh, so you came here to, what, steal my ideas?”

Ellie smirked. “Maybe.”

“Now” she continued, tapping her fingers against the edge of your notebook, “do me a favor and tell me if this song sucks before I embarrass myself.”

You blinked. “Wait—you’re actually asking for my opinion?”

Ellie placed a dramatic hand over her heart. “I know. Huge deal.”

You rolled your eyes. “Alright, let’s hear it.”

Ellie grinned, pulling out her phone, scrolling through her files. A moment later, a raw, unfinished melody drifted through the studio speakers—soft guitar, steady beat, her voice coming in a little rough but unmistakably hers.

You leaned back, listening. It wasn’t what you expected. It was slower, almost hesitant, the kind of song that didn’t just sit in your chest—it settled there, heavy, like it wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

When it faded out, Ellie glanced at you, fingers drumming idly against the desk. “Well?”

You exhaled, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth. “It’s… different.”

Ellie huffed a laugh. “Wow. Incredible feedback. Thank you so much.”

You shot her a look. “No, I mean—it’s great. But it’s you in a way your other stuff isn’t. Feels more…” You searched for the word, something that wouldn’t make this moment feel like a confession.

“Personal?” Ellie offered, raising an eyebrow.

You nodded. “Yeah. Personal. Like you actually mean it.”

Ellie clicked her tongue, leaning back in the chair, stretching her arms above her head. “Great. Can’t wait for the internet to rip me apart for being emotional.”

You snorted. “Oh, please. Sad Ellie is about to be everyone’s favorite genre.”

Ellie groaned, tilting her head back. “God. Kill me now.”

You grinned. “Nah, you gotta live long enough to suffer through your own album rollout.”

Ellie shook her head, but the corner of her mouth twitched. Then, her gaze flicked back to you. Sharper now. Intentional.

“So” she said, nodding towards your notebook. “What about you?”

Your pulse kicked up. “What about me?”

Ellie tapped a finger against your laptop. “You working on anything good, or just staring at the screen and contemplating your entire existence?”

You hesitated.

The ghost of the melody still lingered on your fingertips, the kind of song that would give too much away. You could still feel it under your skin—like the ink hadn’t dried yet.

Ellie was still watching you. Waiting.

You exhaled, pressing your palm against the notebook, shutting it.

“Nothing finished.”

She narrowed her eyes, studying you. “That was a suspiciously vague answer.”

“And yet, I’m not elaborating.”

Ellie's eyes flicked to the notebook under your hand. “Must be something good if you’re guarding it like the nuclear codes.”

You exhaled, pressing your palm a little firmer over the cover. “It’s just not finished.”

Her gaze lingered for a beat, unreadable, before she leaned back.

"Fine. Keep your secrets." But her smirk remained, teasing, knowing. “I’ll just wait for the album, then.”

The silence stretched, thick and charged, pressing against the walls of the dimly lit studio. The only sounds were the distant hum of the city outside and the slow, steady breaths neither of you seemed willing to break.

Then Ellie moved.

She stood with a lazy stretch, her hoodie riding up just enough to expose a sliver of skin. It was an afterthought, a fleeting moment—except that it wasn’t. Not to you.

You noticed everything. The shift of her muscles. The way her fingers flexed at her sides, like she was resisting the urge to touch. The flicker of something unreadable in her eyes when she caught you staring.

"Y’know" she murmured, voice dipping low, rich with something that sent a slow, simmering heat curling in your stomach. "This studio’s got some nice acoustics."

Your heart stuttered. "What do you mean?"

Ellie’s smirk spread wider, slow and confident—full of something dangerously playful. “What do I mean?” she repeated, stepping closer. "I mean… it’d be a damn shame not to test ‘em out."

Your breath caught before you could stop it.

“Ellie...” you warned, the sound barely a whisper.

Her gaze flickered, something sharp and amused dancing behind her eyes. “That’s my name” she said, her voice turning husky, deliberately dragging out the words as she tilted her head, clearly savoring the tension she was building.

“Try not to wear it out, yeah?”

You gripped the edge of the desk harder, trying to steady your shaking hands as she closed the distance between you. Like she had all the time in the world. Like she hadn’t just walked in here and rewritten the air.

Then her hands were on you. Her fingertips barely grazed the edge of your shirt, a feather-light touch that was more maddening than anything. Just enough to make your breath hitch. Ellie caught it, of course, the satisfaction lighting up her features.

“You gonna let me play, superstar?” she murmured, voice thickening, growing darker, heavier with something far more dangerous. Her eyes danced across your face, settling on your lips, tracing the way your breath had turned sharp, uneven.

You swallowed, every part of you on fire. "That depends."

Her brows lifted slightly. "On?"

You exhaled, heart hammering, every nerve in your body locked onto the press of her fingers against your skin.

"Whether you’re any good at it."

Ellie’s smirk shifted, something wicked flashing behind her eyes as her hands slid lower, gripping your waist and pulling you against her. The heat between you became unbearable, the space between you vanishing entirely.

“Oh, babe,” she whispered, her lips brushing against yours as she lowered her head, the words dripping with heat and promise.

“You already know the answer to that.”

And before you could fire back, she kissed you.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn't careful. It was a collision—desperate, reckless, the kind of kiss that burned straight through you. Her hands tightened at your waist, pulling you flush against her as she deepened it, tilting her head just enough to steal the breath from your lungs.

A low sound rumbled from her chest, vibrating against your skin as she pressed in closer, like she wanted to drown in you.

"Ellie—"

"Shh," she breathed, lips ghosting over yours. "Just let me."

The desk dug into your back, but you barely noticed, too caught up in the way Ellie’s fingers curled under your shirt, skimming higher, dragging heat in their wake. You gasped into her mouth, and she took the opportunity to bite your lower lip, a smug little hum vibrating against your skin when your knees nearly buckled.

"Fuck," You murmured, fingers tangling in the front of her hoodie, trying to pull her even closer, even though there was barely any space left between you.

It wasn’t a protest. Not really. She heard it for what it was. A warning. A plea. 

Ellie grinned against your mouth, infuriatingly cocky. "Told you." 

Your response was a hand fisting in her hoodie, yanking her back in. The studio air grew heavier, filled with the soft, urgent press of lips, the wet sound of mouths parting and meeting again.

The heat between you thickened, each kiss deeper, hungrier, as if neither of you could get close enough. Ellie’s hands mapped out familiar territory, fingers slipping beneath your shirt, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine. 

She pushed your back against the desk, her body hovering over yours as a half-empty cup of coffee tipped over, spilling across the surface—but neither of you cared. Ellie’s lips trailed down your jaw, then to your neck, her mouth hot against your skin as she found that sweet spot just beneath your ear. A shiver ran down your spine, your hands fisting her hair, pulling her closer as a gasp slipped from your lips.

Just as you fully sank into the desk, your hand fumbled, accidentally pressing a button.

A red recording light pulsed steadily.

Your stomach dropped. The realization hit like a shock to the system, but before you could react—before you could even think to stop it from recording the audio—she leaned in, voice dark with amusement.

“Oh” she murmured, eyes flicking to the glowing light. “Now that’s interesting.”

She didn’t stop. If anything, the revelation only seemed to fuel her, slow and deliberate in the way she moved. Her fingers traced the edge of the desk, knuckles grazing your skin.

“You know,” she continued, her voice almost thoughtful, almost teasing “most people would just turn it off.” A pause. A smirk. “But you’re not moving.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, each passing second like an eternity. You should’ve said something, anything—but her eyes were already locked on yours, reading you like an open book, watching every shaky breath, every tremor in your body.

“Interesting” she said again, softer this time.

She figured you out. The thought of this moment being recorded turned you on.

She leaned in, mouth just barely brushing your ear.

“Let’s give it something to remember.”

Her fingers skimmed up your thighs, grazing the hem of your waistband, teasing, before slipping beneath to touch your cunt through the damp fabric of your panties. The touch was barely a whisper, just enough to send a jolt of anticipation straight to your core, every nerve in your body lighting up in response.

“Fuck,” she murmured, voice rough against your ear. “Already so wet f’me”

The studio felt impossibly hot. The low hum of the equipment, the distant flicker of the red recording light—it all blurred around you as Ellie’s fingers pushed your panties to the side and brushed against your soaked cunt, teasing. 

You shivered, biting down on your lip as her fingers stroked slow, lazy circles on your clit. You let out a breathy moan, the sound almost embarrassingly loud in the empty room.

She exhaled a soft chuckle, the sound amused, low. “So sensitive…”

Her fingers traced lazy shapes, barely there—enough to make you tremble, but not enough to satisfy. Your head tipped forward, your forehead pressing against her shoulder as you fought to steady your breathing, determined not to let her see you unravel so easily.

Instead, you pressed your lips to the delicate curve of her neck, nipping gently at the skin. The action pulled a breathy, low moan from her throat, followed by a soft hitch in her breath, a dark mark forming where your lips had just been. The sound of her pulse quickening beneath your mouth sent a thrill through you, making it harder to hold back as the tension between you both grew.

Her free hand gripped your thigh, keeping you pinned. Then, with a slow shift of her weight, she adjusted just enough to quicken the pace of her movements, to send jolts of pleasure racing up your spine. Each thrust had you arching, desperate for more as white-hot waves of pleasure surged through you.

A loud moan ripped from your throat.

“That’s it,” she praised, lips skimming your neck, her voice nothing but smoke and heat. “Don’t hold back.”

Your body tightened as she kept up that slow, torturous rhythm. Each stroke was precise—she knew exactly how to break you, exactly how to keep you teetering right on the edge, without letting you tip over.

The tension in your body coiled tighter, hotter, ready to snap—

And then she stopped.

You gasped, hips jerking back involuntarily, chasing the pressure that was suddenly gone. A desperate noise clawed its way up your throat, frustration burning through you like wildfire.

She laughed, low and smug, her breath ghosting over your skin. “Patience, baby.”

Fingers tangled in your shirt, swallowing your sharp inhale with a kiss that left no room for hesitation. It was frantic, untamed—teeth scraping, tongues tangling, breaths ragged as she pressed herself flush against your legs, completely between them.

Hands gripped your thighs, rough fingertips tracing slow patterns against your heated skin, dragging the anticipation out until you were squirming beneath her, hips canting forward, seeking friction.

Her smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and dominance as she leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear.

"You’ll have to beg for it, pretty," she purred, her voice low and rough, each word a silk-wrapped snare. "Tell me just how badly you want it."

And you were already too lost to even think of denying her.

"Please, Ellie" The words tumbled out, a raw, desperate plea. "I need you... so fucking much..." The vulnerability stung, but it felt right, like a surrender you couldn’t fight, even if you wanted to.

Her lips grazed your jaw, teasing with a scrape of teeth. "Fuck..." she hummed, savoring the way you shivered.

"It's impossible to say no to you," she breathed, her mouth trailing down your throat. "Why would I even try?"

Her hand moved, slipping beneath fabric, slow and unrelenting, fingers pressing into your clit in one smooth, devastating motion again. Your head fell back, a broken moan breaking free, and that was all the encouragement she needed.

The red light kept blinking.

The track kept recording.

And neither of you gave a fuck.

Two fingers eased their way inside, stretching you open, curling just right. It dragged a choked gasp from your throat, the pleasure overwhelming as she finally gave you what you wanted.

A quiet hum of amusement left her lips. “That’s it, baby,” she murmured, her voice all smoke and satisfaction. “Let me hear you.”

Like you had a choice.

Your breath hitched, another moan slipping free as she picked up the pace, slow and devastating. The studio air felt stifling, thick with heat, with want, with the unbearable tension that had been simmering between you for weeks.

And now it was spilling over, consuming both of you whole.

Her free hand slid up your side, tugging your shirt upwards, fingertips ghosting over your ribs and stomach until they found your breast. Her fingers squeezed, kneading, rolling your sensitive bud with so much lust it made your breath hitch.

Ellie’s hands pressed your breast up, and you gasped from the intensity of her grip.

“Easy, Ellie... please,” you breathed, eyes shutting.

“Stop whining” Ellie muttered, slapping your breast.

The unexpected sting sent a rush of heat through you, making your hips instinctively rock against her fingers. Ellie was in cloud nine, watching the way you unraveled, addicted to the way you loved being under her mercy.

Ellie’s eyes darkened, her hand gripping your breast harder and pinching your nipple in a way that made you whine. She leaned in, her breath hot against your ear.

“You want more?” she purred. “I can give you fucking more.”

Her fingers went even faster and deeper inside you, wet lewd sounds filling the room. You felt a fresh wave of heat through you, your stomach tightening, thighs clenching around her. You could barely think, barely breathe, barely function with the way she was ravishing you.

The sound of your own incoherent babbling—wrecked, desperate, breaking on every inhale—echoed through the studio monitors, looping back at you in real time. It was sinful. A record of your undoing, caught on tape, permanent.

And you both loved it.

“Bet you’ll listen to this after we are finished.” she teased, lips brushing the shell of your ear, her voice pure arrogance.

You wanted to tell her to shut up.

Wanted to wipe that cocky expression off her face.

But you couldn’t.

Not when she was this deep inside you, not when your entire body was trembling, not when she was driving you closer and closer to the edge with every relentless movement.

"Ellie! Fuck! Ah! I'm—I'm gonna!—"

Her grip on your thigh tightened, keeping you steady, keeping you exactly where she wanted you. “C’mon, babe” she coaxed, her voice dipping lower, rougher, sending a fresh wave of heat straight to your core. “Let go for me.”

You had no choice.

With a sharp inhale, your body seized, pleasure crashing over you in a dizzying, uncontrollable wave. Your fingers clenched in her hoodie, pulling her closer as the world around you blurred, fractured.

She didn’t stop.

Not until she had wrung everything out of you, not until your legs shook, not until your nails dug half-moons into her shoulders, not until your breath came in sharp, ragged gasps.

Only then did she slow.

Only then did she press a lingering kiss to your jaw, her touch finally easing, the weight of her body grounding you as you came back to yourself.

The dim glow of the studio monitors casted long shadows over your hands as you hovered over the trackpad, hesitating. The screen in front of you flickering with waveforms—familiar ones, yet impossibly intimate.

The remnants of last night. Of her.

Your body still remembered. The way she pressed against you, the roughness of her hands on your skin, the way she took and took without hesitation. Your thighs still trembled if you thought about it too long. A dull ache pulsed deep in your muscles, in the places her fingers had left their mark, in the places where heat still lingered, ghostlike.

And then there was this.

A single, unnamed audio file.

Your cursor hovered over it, pulse thrumming, heat creeping up your neck. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.

But you clicked play anyway.

The second the sound filled your headphones, your stomach clenched. 

Fuck.

It was devastating.

The track captured everything—the sharp intake of breath when her hands disappeared just to return, the way your voice wavered between restraint and surrender, the quiet, broken whimpers that she’d dragged from you, each one edged with desperation. And beneath it all, her.

Her voice—low, teasing, soaked in dark amusement.

A shiver ran down your spine.

You swallowed, but your mouth was dry, your fingers hovering over the delete button.

You should delete it.

You should.

But a wicked idea curled in the back of your mind, taking shape, sinking its claws in.

One particular song of yours was already finished—a sensual, slow-burn of a track, thick with sultry melodies and lyrics soaked in want. It was about sex, no subtlety, no metaphors to hide behind. This was the kind of song that slipped under skin, the kind that made people blush when they heard just how explicit it really was.

And now?

Now, it was going to be about her.

You dragged the unnamed file to the song, heart hammering as you isolated the breathiest, most wrecked parts—the ones that made your thighs press together, the ones that would make her smirk so damn cocky when she realized what you’d done.

You worked methodically, layering them just beneath the chorus, weaving them in so delicately they almost melted into the beat. Almost.

And then, the final touch.

You scrolled through the file, fingers trembling just slightly as you plucked the words you knew would drive anyone crazy.

A soft, broken whisper—"Fuck..."

A cocky drawl—“That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.” 

The one that made something deep inside you clench—"Tell me just how badly you want it."

And then, the final touch, almost at the end of the song. A phrase that made it unmistakably clear where all those sounds had come from. Low and rough, a whisper edged with recognition so distinct that anyone who had heard it once would know—those were your moans, and this was Ellie fucking Wiliams voice.

“Bet you’ll listen to this after we are finished.”

You pressed play, listening to it slip seamlessly into the bridge, into the build-up, the anticipation tightening, tightening, until goosebumps prickled along your skin.

A slow, wicked smile curled at your lips as you saved the file.

Two months.

That was all the time you had until the album dropped.

Let’s see if she notices.

← 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑜 | 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 | 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟 →

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࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ IVE ALWAYS WANTED TO WRITE THAT MOANING IN THE BACKTRACK OF A SONG PARTTT OMG . OMFG. its not my fav chapter, but here it its ig, and its so long im sorry lmaooo. I did like 30 proofreads, but there might still be a few grammar mistakes here and there—sorry in advance, english isn't my first language and I will be happy to receive constructive criticism!.

Please leave a comment if you’re interested in being on the permanent taglist for this series!

see ya'll soon, stay tuned ;)

[minthy]

The Star Sanses,

with the Map of the soul: 7 song that I think it fits with them, Because I miss 2019.

(forgot to post these doodles here, yay)

Persona: Swap.

"Actually I’m real good but a little uncomfortable,

I'm still not so sure if I'm a dog or a pig or what else,

But then other people come out and put the pearl necklace on me"

(Truth to be told, I have no idea what "swap sans" really is, He's just... well.. A swap, He doesn't even have a personality the silly, He just is there to fit for the plot of your AUs, heheh, Relatable)

Ego: Dream.

"I go back every day, To me of yesterday,

To the life of giving up, I let myself go away,

But in this world, you know, There are truths unchanged,

Time rushes ever forward, There's no ifs, buts, or maybes"

(I don't think he can get over what happened, his heart is big and his ego is bigger than to let him ask for guidance and support, man release us)

Shadow: Ink.

"I wondered everyday how far I'd go,

I came to my senses and I find myself here,

Yeah, hmm, shadow at my feet,

Look down, it's gotten even bigger"

(No matter how great high and mighty he's getting, the more the shadows of his past and constant need for stimulation are driving him to a point of despair and unsatisfaction, get a grip)

[lhswon]

CRAZY TIPS = CRAZY FEELINGS { l.hs }

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: wherein, heeseung is a player, a fuck boy, and a rich one too which is all what y/n hates about a man. y/n in contrast is a broke college student who barely makes a living to pay up her rent and college tuition. despite years of being in the same university as heeseung, they never had any interactions until the day heeseung finally laid his eyes on y/n who works on the counter at some nightclub and started leaving her with some crazy cash tips.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: yandere!lee heeseung x tsundere!fem!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: non!idol, enemies (one sided) to lovers troupe, kinda slow burn, teeth-rotting fluff, heeseung is a softie, you and enha are in the same age for the sake of the plot

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: lots cursing, suggestive scenes (mdni!), fighting, drinking, smoking, mention of substances, family issues, mention of SA, display of dominance and possessiveness, heeseung is always jealous (lmk if i missed any!)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙬𝙘: unknown (as of now :D)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: whoop whoop. wrote this au the moment i saw that video of hee drinking whiskey in a party :D man he was HOT i couldn't stop myself from making this. ALSO BIG NOTE, none of this reflect the idols mentioned in real life. this is only a FICTION and for entertainment purposes only.

𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲

the loud music and people's chaotic cheering and murmuring were the ones that welcomed heeseung and his friends, along with the mixed smell of alcohol, perfumes, and smoke from cigarettes. it was already 2:00 am but it seemed a bit more early for the people inside the club, the energy was just insane.

as they walked to find their own spot, heeseung constantly sees people making out on the spot which made him smirk a bit. his initial plan was to find someone to hook up with tonight. it was their midterm interlude after all, he needed to relax and he wanted to start by hooking up.

"i'll order us some drinks, what do you guys want?" jake remained standing while the rest of them sat at the circular couch.

"i want just want some rum." sunghoon said. jay said he wanted the same thing.

"sunoo hyung and i will just have some whiskey." jungwon followed, raising his left hand up and pointed to sunoo next to him.

"what about you, seung?" jake asked.

"just get me some scotch, please and thank you." heeseung said and jake nodded before leaving.

while jay and sunghoon was talking something about their academics, sunoo and jungwon was just chatting why their youngest, niki, recently failed his long test and have to go through intensive tutoring as of the moment.

heeseung on the other hand wandered his eyes around and when he catched a glimpse of jake on the counter, he followed him using his eyes and his breathing hitched when he saw your angelic face giving small smiles to jake as he leans in to tease you.

"come on, do you really have to work tonight? i can pay your manager so he would let you drink with me." the man in front of you insisted. you subtly gave him a 'are-you-fucking-serious' look before brushing his statement off with an awkward chuckle.

"i'm sorry sir, but we are currently short on staffs so everyone needs to play their parts." you gave him a small smile before handing him the bottles he ordered.

"oh come on, don't call me sir. don't act like you do not go to the same university as me." jake chuckled sexily which made you secretly scoff.

you have to admit, jake is attractive, hot even, but he's just way out of your league. he's hot, he's rich, he's an academic achiever, and lives almost a perfect life, plus he's a play boy which is a big no no for you. he's just everything you hate about men.

"i can't jake, i have to work. now, please do get off the counter, i have other customers to serve other than you." you said bravely and gave him a fake smile which made jake smirk. your feisty attitude just turns him on.

after successfully shooing away jake sim, you suddenly felt eyes watching you. you wandered your eyes around and you choked on air when you realize that the pair of eyes watching, and staring at you darkly was heeseung's. one of your schoolmate and friend of jake.

the way heeseung stared at you darkly made you panic. his piercing eyes never leaving you even before you saw jake put down the drinks they ordered. you're like a prey, recognized by the predator. he only diverted his gaze when jake called him, handing him his drink. you too, were nudged by your co-worker.

"you okay?" red asked. she's your co-worker, also your work buddy. you nodded and cleared your throat.

"if you're tired already, you should rest. you're about to end your shift anyways." she suggested while you nodded.

you chatted with her a bit before going to the staff room to change, get your things, and time yourself out from work. the moment you exited the club using the back door, you immediately hugged yourself due to cold. you could see the smoke coming out of your mouth as you breathe. not even the padded jackets could easily warm you up in this cold weather.

you walked through the parking lot to find your second-hand car when you saw two shadow beside your car, making out. it made you mentally scoff, out of all places, why beside yours?

it was cold and already late, you have no choice but to walk towards your car. as you finally get close to the scene, you yet again saw those familiar piercing eyes from heeseung when he watched over you while still kissing the girl in front of him. since the girl was leaning on your car, you couldn't really go without her getting off first so you coughed awkwardly.

"oh, sorry!" the girl squeeled.

finally, they stopped kissing and the girl giggled, as if she's happy that someone had just caught her making out in the parking lot. heeseung on the other hand stayed silent and watched over you intently.

"i'm sorry." you said politely as you bowed your head before moving to open the door of your car. you were about to head inside when you heard the girl murmured something.

"this car is trash, right hee?"

your eyes twitched from what the girl said. slowly, you turned to her with a small smile.

"well look who's talking, you'll just be as dirty as a trash when this man throws you away like a garbage after using you." you said before getting inside your car and starts your engine.

the girl was shocked while heeseung smirked at your attitude. without knowing, you just picked heeseung's interest, and it was the on switch for his yandere era to begin.

check out the chapter 1 here

[cityofmeliora]

TRANSCRIPT: Terzo talking about the Nameless Ghouls during "If You Have Ghosts" (acoustic version) interlude 🎸🎸🎸

this is a compilation of Papa III's speeches after the guitar solo in If You Have Ghosts. these speeches are notable for being the source of many popular clips where Terzo says a bunch of horny stuff about Omega, Alpha, and Water. he also introduces Earth and Air before the song starts, but i did not include those parts.

here are some highlights / notes:

All that horny stuff Terzo says about the Ghouls was him joking about things he allegedly heard the audience saying.

Omega was originally just called Aether / Quintessence, and Alpha was originally just called Fire. 'Omega' and 'Alpha' were nicknames given to them by fans, and Terzo was initially confused by those nicknames because he did not call them that.

Terzo describes Alpha receiving his nickname as him being christened at one concert and 'un-christened' at a different concert 😂

Terzo's nicknames for Omega include 'Mister Quintessence' and 'The Giant from Gistad', referencing Omega's (real-life) place of origin, Gistad, a locality outside Linköping.

Terzo called Water 'A Nameless Ghoul Called Water' as if it was Water's full name, which is very funny.

Terzo accidentally called Alpha 'Omega' in Indianapolis and then awkwardly pretended like he didn't just do that.

Terzo seemed to think that 'stage right' and 'stage left' was a difficult concept for the audience to understand.

Terzo repeatedly notes that Water was in fact the best six-string guitar player in the band, despite his role as the bassist.

TF would frequently get mixed up about the timeline / whichcharacter he was playing at what time

this transcript includes 21 concerts and ended up being over 7k words, so the full text of this post is under a cut:

PAPA EMERITUS III: Magnifique! Yes! Now what? These guys are Nameless, right? That's how it all started. 'A Nameless Ghoul.' Then people picked up on the fact that they had little things on them, on their clothes. Okay! So uh, then it ended up being that they picked up on the fact that they had been given the elements. You know, you remember Earth and air? But this wasn't enough. Apparently, two of the guys, they have other symbols, too. Especially the girls saw that, because after a while the girls had their favorite ghouls and they wanted to be Ghoulettes for their favorite Ghoul. So let me introduce to you the Nameless Ghoul who just did a solo for you. All of a sudden, we can hear the girls in the front over here saying "Alpha… Alpha!" Ladies and genitals, Alpha! 'A Nameless Ghoul', my ass! What we got here in the middle is a curiosity, I tell you that. He happens to play the guitar! Normally you see him fingering the bass. And I know you wish you was the one he was doing it to, right? Not tonight. Especially not now, because he's doing the axe right now. Because you see, every day we get it smeared in our face that out of all the guitar players in the band, he just happened to be the best fucking guitar player in the band. So please, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul named Water! About here, geographically, there are usually girls standing, looking this way. You see stomps. So usually I hear from here, this part, "Omega... Omega…" Also quite a good guitar player. Please, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul named Omega! So there you have it! Now you have Ghost. We are Ghost. How 'bout that? Eh? Rouen, France (February 5, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Right on! It is... Alright. The guy who just did a very good solo– technically, he's referred to as 'Fire'. [APPLAUSE] Don't clap too much yet. That was a big one. It just so happens that on his other guitar, there's a little symbol. And fans –especially female fans– paid attention. So we were out touring. All of a sudden, from this side there were voices: "Alpha… Alpha… Alpha!" the girls screamed out. So ladies and gentlemen, he became 'Alpha'! Not bad! Now this fellow. Usually, he plays –he fingers– the bass. [AUDIENCE: IT'S SEXY AS FUCK!] Yeah! And he does so very good. Now ladies, if you find yourself at the show feeling your bottom, like, moving like this, it's because of the bass and the drums. That's where it feels, y'know– here. He's also one hell of a guitar player, to the annoyance of all of us. Please, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul named Water! Over the years, on my right, here, I started hearing another word that– I knew the word,but I didn't truly know the meaning of it until I heard it loud and clear from female voices: "Omega… Omega! I want you, Omega! I want to be your Ghoulette, Omega!" And for me, I was like, eh? Omega? I don't know you as 'Omega', but fine. On the axe here, please give it up for Omega! La Rochelle, France (February 6, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Right on! He's a pretty able guitar player, isn't he? Yes… Bon, bon! Let me tell you a little story. Obviously, the band is supposed to be nameless. For some fucking reason, I have a name– there was no way around that. But first off, it was 'a Nameless ghoul, a Nameless Ghoul, a Nameless Ghoul, a Nameless Ghoul', and so forth. You had to have something, so they all were wearing signs: Earth, Air, et cetera. So there was this guy who played guitar. His name was Fire. But he also had a little sign on his guitar. And once we had been on tour for a while and we were starting to get a little bit popular, so there were peoples on our shows and there was a lot of girls on the shows. You can hear from that corner there: "Alpha! Alpha… I want to be your Ghoulette, Alpha!" So apparently, here we have a Nameless Ghoul named Alpha! You see… usually this guy in the middle here fingers the bass, the four-stringed instrument. That is the thing that you feel in your crotch and in your ass when we play. You know the boogie-woogie? Bass. That's the trick. But see, this is not a fucking bass he's handling right now. It's a guitar. It just so turned out –he likes to point out every day– he sort of smears it in the faces of everyone, how fucking good of a guitar player he is, too. Not only does he make the asses move, he also plays the guitar like a devil! Please, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul named Water! Around the same time when we heard "Alpha! Alpha!" sounds from over there, amongst the stomping, which I heard, obviously, I also noticed something else from that corner: "Omega… Omega! Omega…" Eh? Alright. It was the women calling out: Omega… Stomp me, Omega! Treat me like you treat your guitar." So he did. Please, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul named Omega! So there you have it: Ghost. We are Ghost. Fantôme! Grenoble, France (February 8, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Word! What a good solo, right? Yeah. I'm uh... I'm gonna stop fiddling with my pants now.  You know we started  with the idea of being completely nameless. You know… it was such a good idea on paper. It didnt fucking work at all. It didn't go into people's psyche that you can have something that you cannot name. Okay. Let's have names. Okay so we had Earth and Air. That's a good start. So, y'know, we came up with, like, 'Fire'. Fire! That's good. So everybody got their little element, right. It makes things easier. You can sign something– if someone wants your autograph you can just like, [DRAWS A TRIANGLE IN THE AIR]. Good. Autograph. But then uh, this person on stage that I'm referring to also had a little symbol on his guitar. So he's standing here in the middle, most of the time, and I was standing there and I was thrusting and I was dancing and ehhh and I hear, over here: "Alpha…" Eh? It was the ladies in the front, around here, saying "Alpha.. I want to be your Ghoulette, Alpha. Alpha…" So let me introduce to you… a Nameless Ghoul called Alpha! Now… the tormentor of the bass… busy fingering, for one-and-a-half hour every night, the bass. The bass is the four-stringed instrument that makes your ass move, together with the drums. But it is a very, very important tool if you want people to dance– it's the bass. if you want to be a guitarist that's cool but the bass. and the drummer… That's it! This bass player happen to be also a very very good guitar player, to the annoyance of everyone else. That's why he's playing the guitar right now, but he's holding back because he's a tormentor of the six-string too. Ladies and gentlemen, a Nameless Ghoul named Water! Around the same time that I was standing there in the middle, I was doing my mating dance, singing all female-like, being a little bit too shorter than people thought as soon as I took my hat off– thank you very much, I also noticed another sound from that part of the audience: "Omega…" Eh? What? What, what, what, what? What was that? That was the ladies here in the front. They were saying what? [AUDIENCE: OMEGA!] Yes. And they were flashing and they were sweating profusely, in… in heat! and they were flashing it for… Omega! Bordeaux, France (February 9, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Good solo, eh? You might know… that we are –or let's say they are– supposed to be nameless. But uh, you know, why make things difficult? Maybe they can have signs so they have something to sign if someone wants an autograph. Okay. Alright, let's do that sounds like an interesting idea. So obviously, y'all already know Earth and Air. Simple triangles. So does the other guys have symbols too, so they can sign shit. But the guitar players here on the sides, they also had small sign– things on their guitars. And y'know, we have Fire… And that was good. But I was standing here in the middle doing my charade. I was dancing, I was singing, I thought I had it going. And I heard an occasional "Papa! Papa!" But I heard from over here, the girls whispering "Alpha… Alpha… I wanna be yours, Alpha. Make me your Ghoulette!" Okay! So uh… here he is– a Nameless Ghoul named Alpha! Are you familiar with the bass? It's four strings. the thing that you finger.. you can pick it too but if you finger it it feels even better. The bass is the thing that makes your ass move. That is the part you feel. No rock and roll without the bass. Here we got a bass player. He's doing a really good fingering on it. But it just so happens that he's even better at playing guitar, as you can see. Yes. Ladies and gentlemen give it up for a Nameless Ghoul named Water! About the time when I was standing here doing my mating dance, I thought I had everything and I was expecting someone to yell "Papa!" I hear from over here… something different: "Omega… Omega… I want to be yours, Omega! Omega! Omega man!" Was surprised! Eh? Omega. So here you have it: a Nameless ghoul named Omega! There you have it. Now you have Ghost. We are Ghost. Thank you. Nimes, France (February 10, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: So we started out as a nameless band, except for myself, who was given a name. We thought that everything would be okay, but we came up with something that would not work very well, and that was, 'what if they ask for an autograph?' OK, well maybe every member of the band can be the elements, yeah that makes sense, that's smart! Uh-huh. OK, so you've met Earth and Air yeah? So the other ones gotta be similar, right? Fire, yes? Easy. But the little thing is that Mister Fire here had a little 'A' correlating with something else on the stage. One night, a little bit into our career, we were getting a little popular. Girls liked us. There were many girls over here. And I was doing my dance and I was flirting and I was thrusting and I [THRUSTING NOISES]. I was doing everything I could and then I heard over here: "Alpha… Alpha… I want to be your Ghoulette, Alpha!" Alpha? Alright. What happened to Mister Fire? So now, ladies and gentlemen, on the solo guitar, here… give it up for a Nameless Ghoul named Alpha! Ladies, do you know what the bass is? That's the four-string instrument that makes your ass move sideways… frontways… feels good. Unfortunately, we have no bass on the stage right now because it just so happens that the guy who fingers the bass is also one motherfucker on guitar. So please, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul named Water! Wasser! About the same time as I was standing here thrusting and doing everything I could in order to get somewhere, I heard another sound from over here. For me, I recognized the word but I didn't really fucking– What are they saying? Do you know what they said? Anybody had an idea? "Omega… Omega… Take me right here, right now, Omega…" Eh? Okay! Mister Quintessence here, the giant from Gistad, Ostrogothia, outside Lincopia. Give it up for a Nameless Ghoul named Omega! There you have it. Now you have… Geist. Dresden, Germany (February 19 , 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Right on, man! Not a bad solo, no? It's a good one! Very good. You know, maybe you already know the story, you have figured it out, but y'know, we started out as a somewhat ehh– it was supposed to be nameless. Well, my brother who was in the band obviously, he got a name but uhh, oh wait a minute, it was the guy before that. Fuck it. Anyways– [SHUSHES THE AUDIENCE] I'm gonna tell you a story. Thank you for the enthusiasm, though. We figured that if we were nameless, all would be okay. Then rose a problem: what the fuck are we gonna do for autographs? Not sign it? Heh. It's a funny idea but it didn't really translate very well. So we figured that well all the members are like cornerstones, like elements. A-ha! Elements! We can use the elements and they can sign it with elements. Oh, what a fucking brilliant idea! That is perfect. Alright. Said and done. So you all met, obviously, Earth and Air. So on. So we did like, Fire. So there was this guy, Fire, but on his guitar there was another symbol, too, to correlate with another guy on the other side of the stage. So one night in our career, we had just gotten to be a little bit popular. There were girls coming to our shows. And they made sounds. I couldn't really hear what they were saying, but one night I heard, over here, something along the lines of "Alpha… Alpha… Alpha! I want to be your Ghoulette, Alpha!" Were they talking about fire? Ah-ha! OK then. Please, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul named Alpha! Ladies, do you know– Yes, you. Ja. Say 'ja.' That is the four-string instrument that make your ass, like, move. Like a… Maybe you didn't know that before, but it is the bass. We happen to have one bass player who normally fingers the bass very well. but he just so happens to be a very, very good guitar player, too, to the annoyance of everyone else because he's so fucking good. Please, give it up for our eminent bass player, a Nameless Ghoul named Water! Wasser! Yeah man, you rock! About the same time when I heard that Alpha stuff over there, I also heard another noise coming from this side. And it was stomping like a [STOMPING NOISES] But also something from the crowd. Do you have any idea what they were saying over here? What do you think? Not a clue. Is it "Omega?" Yes, "Omega… Omega. I want to be yours, Omega. Look at my… Just look at me, Omega… Omega…" So apparently, the guy over here had changed names into something else. So I give to you here in Herford, the giant from the Ostrogothian fields, from Gistad outside Lincopia, Omega! There you have it: a nameless band. Now you have ghosts. Herford, Germany (February 20, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Right on! That was a good fucking solo. Very soulful. This band started out, once upon a time, with the idea of not having names. Um… But my predecessors had a name. My brother had a name, now I've got a name. But the other ones– Nameless Ghouls. One day rose a problem. What if people want an autograph? Ah! Now, there was this smartass who came up with "Maybe all the different members can be elements!" I said that seems reasonable and it's a simple sign and it will be quick. Great. OK, so you've already met Earth and Air. You know the other ones, yes? So we have Fire. But this Fire guy– on his guitar, there was a sign, obviously, that sort of correlated with the other guy on the other side. So people picked up on that. One night in our successful career, I was standing here in the middle. I was thrusting and I was dancing and I was doing everything I could do to get the– the meows, eh? Then I heard, from the– my left– I heard female voices that yelled… whimpered "Alpha… Alpha… I want to be your Ghoulette, Alpha!" Alright! Well, my buddy Fire here has a new name, apparently. So please, on the guitar, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Alpha! Ladies, do you know what a bass is? I know you do. Four strings. And that is usually the thing that makes your ass wobble like that when you hear music. That is the good part, actually, the bass. Normally fingering the bass, but currently playing guitar– very good, actually, just to insult us, the rest of us. Give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Water! About the same time I was standing there in the middle and I heard that Alpha crap, I also heard something else from this side of the stage. It was women– busty women, who said something I hadn't really heard before. Can you guess what they were saying? Yeah. "Omega… Omega… I want to take you home and rip you apart, Omega." That's what they said, actually. It's weird. But he has a way to not leave one seat in the house dry. Please, from the Ostrogothian fields, from Gistad outside Lincopia, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Omega! Alright, there you have it! Now you have Ghost. Thank you. Malmö, Sweden (February 25, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Yeah! What a good solo! I'm telling you a story. When we started out, the idea was for us –except for myself and my predecessors, obviously– to be nameless. We thought that would sort of work with the human psyche, but it did not. And there was a practical problem as well, because people wanted autographs. Oh! And there was this smartass in the band who came up with this idea: "Maybe we can– here, the band, we can represent the elements, right? And then we hav a little sign that we sign." Problem solved! Voila! So, you've already met, obviously, Earth and Air, and so we went on with Fire, and so forth. But there were other symbols, too– heathen, clandestine. One was on one guitar and one was on the other guitar. The thing was, we were getting bigger. We started to attract girls to our shows. There you are. One night, I was standing here in the middle –or maybe it was my brother, I dont know, fuck it– and there was this noise, this sound that I've ever really heard before, coming form this side. It was girls saying "Alpha… Alpha… I want to be your Ghoulette, Alpha." Fire? Alright! It was the sign they saw– the alpha sign. So please, give it up, christened by our female fans, a Nameless Ghoul called Alpha! Do you know what the bass is? You do, OK, good. For the rest of you, that is the four-stringed instrument that makes your ass wobble when you hear good music. That is it. It is basically that simple– the bass… Normally tormenting the four-string axe, but currently insulting us all by being the best guitar player in this fucking band give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Water! About the same time I was standing here at the show, at that time long gone, there was also another sound that I heard from this side. Girls, do you know what I heard? Can you say it? "Omega… Omega…"  Yes. It was the women, yelling out to be ravaged by… a Nameless Ghoul called Omega! And so the ravaging continues… So there you have it! Now you have ghosts. Uppsala, Sweden (February 26, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Right on! Good solo! We started out once with the idea of being nameless. It went so-and-so. One early problem that appeared is that, as we grew popular, people wanted their records signed. Well, I got to– Well, my predecessors got to sign shit. Fuck. You know how it is. Heh! But the other guys, they needed to sign something, too. So there was this smartass in the band who came up with the idea of "Maybe everyone in the band can be elements, right? That's a simple way to get out of that problem." OK, so as you already met Earth and Air, and so it went with Fire and such. Ehh. Problem solved. In addition to these symbols, there were other little details that was incorporated. As we grew a little bigger, people picked up on that, too, especially the signs that was on the two guitars. I was standing here in the middle, somewhere, someplace, in the middle of our successful career, and I was dancing and at this time, y'know, we were starting to attract not only dudes, it was a lot of girls at our shows, too. So it was beginning to be really funny, huh? And one night, I was dancing and thrusting and doing all the moves I could in order to get everybody in heat. And I heard something that I never really heard before, at least not at our concerts, and it came from this side. And it was –I guess mostly female– voices saying "Alpha, Alpha, Alpha, Alpha, Alpha, Alpha. Alpha, Alpha! I want to be your Ghoulette, Alpha!" Fire? OK? So Fire got a new name. So please, give it up, on guitar, for a Nameless Ghoul called Alpha! I am sure you're familiar with the instrument called bass. If anybody saw us in Utrecht last time, you might remember that we actually have a bass player who is one motherfucker on guitar, too. Remember that? When poor Alpha had to stand out on a show or two –I don't remember how many– where this dude over here played the guitar. So please, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Water! Looking sharp! Do you remember when I told you about when I noticed the whole alpha shit going on on the other side? Around the same time, I heard a new word coming from this part of the crowd. Yeah. All I could see, these big whoppers, women casting them forth, yelling something. Do you know what? [AUDIENCE: OMEGA!] Yeah… That was what they yelled. So please, peoples of the Netherlands and beyond, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Omega! There you have it. Now you have Ghost. We are Ghost. Thank you very much. Tilburg, Netherlands (March 1, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Yeah! Right on! Good solo! Y'know, originally, the idea– I'm not grabbing my ass, I'm adjusting my pants! Originally, the idea was for us to have no names. 'A Nameless Ghoul.' Except for myself then and my predecessors. One day rose a problem. People want shit signed. Alright. We can have signs! Each and every member of the band can have signs. Problem solved. Great. So they were the signs of the elements. And you know, you've already met those– you've met Earth and you've met Air, and then you get so on, y'know. But there was also smaller symbols around, especially two that sort of correlated on the guitars. People seemed to have picked up on that, because one night, I was standing about here. I was dancing and I was singing and thrusting. I heard a noise– female voices over at that side, saying something. Do you know what they yelled? "Alpha… Alpha…" So our multi-talented guitar player here, whose name is Fire, had a new name. Give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Alpha! You do know what a bass is, right? That's the four-stringed instrument that makes your ass wobble. It's easy as that. You need a good drummer, too, but if you have a good bass and a good drums that has their shit together, it really feels good. Our bass player is very multi-talented, and as you can see, there are– there's a six-string axe in his hand right now. Please give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Water! About that same time when all that Alpha shit was going on on that side, it turned into a murmur for me in the middle because there was– they were saying other things on this side. [STAMMERING] Do you know what they were saying here, neighbors of stage right, as they say? I saw whoppers all over the place, women screaming "Omega…" So please give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Omega! There you have it! Now you have Ghost. Thank you very much. Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania, USA (April 14, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: What a good solo! Yeah! Good work, dude! Y'know, we started out with our thing– They started out– fuck. This band started out with the idea of everybody, except myself and my predecessors, to have no names. It seemed like the right thing to do. And so far it has worked okay. One day, quite early in our career, we had gotten a little bit of recognition. We had an album out, and there were a few fans that wanted signings on the record. We do not have names, so uh…  What are we to do? I said, "I dont give a fuck! I can sign it!" Again, where's my head here– obviously the other guy… Fuck it. Alright, there was this smartass who came up with the idea that maybe we can have signs, kind of like the elements, maybe. That's brilliant. I mean it's easy, it's fast, we can do stamps. Fantastic! Great idea! OK, so what do we have here? Obviously, we started here with Earth, and then we have Air and Fire and so on. So everyone had this little names and their stamps. Very good business model. But see, on their spare time, they also decorated guitars with other signs, very similar to the ones that we already used for them. So one night, when my predecessor was standing around here in the middle, he was thrusting singing and dancing and throwing kisses all over the place, there was a sound over at stage left. Confusing, eh? Stage left? Do you know what that sound was, over here? It was ladies' voices –and I guess a few guys, too– that said "Alpha… I want you, Alpha… I want to be your Ghoulette, Alpha." Eh? You talking about Fire? So Mister Fire had a new name un-christened by the girls in our audience. So please, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Alpha! We have a guy in our band who usually plays the bass on stage, but on his spare time he likes to insult us all by showing off how great of a fucking guitar player he actually is. Please, give it up for the multi-talented A Nameless Ghoul called Water! Around the same time I heard those noises from stage left, there was also a little murmur from stage right– that's your part of the audience. I saw voluptuous women… was heaving their breasts, and they were chanting the same word. Do you know what that word was? Yes… "Omega… Take me right here and right now, Omega!" So please, ladies and genitals of Long Island, give it up for the Nameless Ghoul called Omega! So there you have it: Ghost. Huntington, New York, USA (April 15, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Right on. Not so shabby eh? What a good solo. I'm gonna tell a little story. When this band started out, the idea was simply for the band to have no names. Well, one person needed a name, so myself and my predecessors could have a name. We never really thought we would be popular enough to write autographs, but when time came to write autographs we had a fucking problem. So someone came up with the idea that maybe we could have the signs of the elements to sort of symbolize the different elements in the band. [PAPA NOISES] Not so dumb, actually a little bit clever. So you've already met, obviously, Earth, the drums, and Air being like the ambience, huh? Right? See? Clever. And then we continue, like, with Fire and such. Everybody got their names, and in times of boredom they started doing shit. One thing led to decorating their guitars with, actually, the sign of Fire– triangle. And that was to correlate with the sign on the other side of the stage on the other guitar. But we will get to that. Bear with me. On one of our tours, sometime into our career –our successful career– we were attracting dudes, men, girls, and women. Everybody was having fun. I was having fun! I was dancing, I was singing –for the best of my ability– and I was thrusting, doing my best to scare you all. Then I heard this little noise. It was, I guess, mostly female voices here on this side of the stage. [AUDIENCE SCREAMS] It sounded kinda like that. But do you know what they said? [AUDIENCE: ALPHA!] Exactly. They said, "Alpha… Alpha… Alpha… Little triangle sign on the guitar, Alpha!" OK, so Fire had a new name, apparently. So, peoples of New Haven, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Alpha! Do you know what a bass is? That's the four-string guitar that makes your ass wobble. Good drums, good bass– that's usually the key to writing a good song. Our bass player likes to spend his time off stage by showing off how fucking great he is on guitar, to discontent of everyone. But please, give it up for the multi-talented a Nameless Ghoul called Water! Around about the same time we heard the Alpha nonsense over there, there was this murmur, lets just put it that way, over here. And then there was chests. Voluptuous women heave themselves against the railing. And they yelled what? [AUDIENCE: OMEGA!] Yes. "Omega… take me here, right now, Omega…" You're getting it. Right now! So please, Connecticut, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Omega! Are you not impressed? So-and-so. OK, we'll get to the good part now. New Haven, Connecticut, USA (April 16, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Yeah! Very, very good. I'm gonna tell you a story. This band started out with the intention of being, as far as the members went, nameless. Which didn't pose a big problem until the day came that we had a record out that people liked, so they wanted names to be written on the record. Well, maybe we can have like signs. Oh, wait a minute, wait a minute, we can even have signs that are representative of the elements. Ah! Great! Fucking brilliant! [PAPA NOISES] Simple, too. Maybe it can even have stamps and we can save a lot of time. Said and done. So I know we had Earth, air, and Fire, and so on. So it worked like a charm. On endless treks around the world, with nothing to do but work and roll, we did other things too. Well, they did other things. So they started decorating their guitars. One with the sign that also says fire. But it also correlated with a sign on the other side of the stage, so that makes it seem something different. Hold on there. One night in our ever-so-prosperous career, we had started to attract a lot of ladies. I was standing here in the middle doing my spiel and I heard this noise coming from stage left, as we say in the business. It was ladies who said– what do you think the ladies of stage left said? they said, "Alpha… Alpha… I want to be your Ghoulette, Alpha." So Mister Fire had a new name, because of the sign on his guitar. So, ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Alpha! We'll get to the other symbol on the other guitar very, very shortly. But speaking of another guitar… Holding in his guitar, right now, a six-string axe when he's actually supposed to play something that has four strings on it, but he likes to insult everyone with the idea and the fact that he's a better guitar player than all of us. So please, give it up for the  multi-talented a Nameless Ghoul called Water! About the same time when we heard that Alpha nonsense over there, I was thrusting here. I heard something else from stage right. There was a murmur. It came from voluptuous women.. who'd put their whoppers on the rim, and they'd say something very very strange for my ears. "Omega… Omega… Take me right here, right now, Omega!" So please, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Omega! Thank you. Niagara Falls, New York, USA (April 17, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: My god, what a shredder! Alright… You've already met Earth and Air, so you get it, right, yeah? Elements, and so on? Fire? But some of them goes by additional names. Do you know what they usually yell, mostly female voices around here? [AUDIENCE: ALPHA!] Yes… So please, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Alpha! This tormentor of the axe usually torments the bass with his fingers of doom. Have you seen what his fingers can do? I'm sure you wish you were the one he was doing it to, huh? But now he's playing guitar, so please give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Water! Ladies of stage right flank, what do you usually say over here? What I usually hear over here is "Omega.... Copulate me right here, right now, Omega." But unfortunately, ladies, he's occupied playing the guitar. So please, ladies and genitals, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Omega! Houston, Texas, USA (April 27, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Yeah! Look at Mister Guitar Guy, here. Alright… I guess you smatasses understand what it's all about, right? Earth on the drums, Air on the keyboards, and so on. Do you know what ladies over here usually yell during our shows? Do you have a clue? What is your guess, darling? [AUDIENCE: PAPA!] Some of them yell 'Papa' too, but they usually yell something else, too. Are you clueless, all of you? "Alpha…" [AUDIENCE: OMEGA!] No, say 'Alpha', you stupid! There you go… They say "Alpha… I want to be your Ghoulette, Alpha!" So please, people of Alabama, give it up for a Nameless ghoul called Alpha! You know what a bass is, right? However, that is no bass. I assume that you know. This guy perfectly knows that he's not playing the bass right now. Because you see, he is very multi-talented. His fingers can do magic to basses, guitars… you tell me. So please, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Water! Alright, let's see if, uh, peoples of stage right is smarter than people of stage left. What are you yelling? [AUDIENCE: OMEGA!] Yes! It's usually accompanied by "Take me right here, right now, Omega!" Is that what you're saying? I see. Ladies and genitals of Alabama, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Omega! Birmingham, Alabama (May 2, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Yeah! Alright, have you understood the drill now? On the drums, Earth. On the keyboard, we have Air. And so it goes on according to the elements… correct. However, usually around this time of night, we hear women in heat from this side of the stage, and they're yelling out a name that doesn't really fit into the chemistry lesson, but it belongs on a campus– usually between the sheets. Do you know what these girls are yelling? [AUDIENCE: ALPHA!] Yes… that's exactly what they were yelling. They say "I want to be your Ghoulette, Alpha. Don't do the show, just come down here with me and make me happy." Please give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Alpha! We do have a bass player in the band, but he's kind of an overachiever, so he likes to spend his days in front of us playing guitar because he's really good at it. Please, people of Tennessee, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Water! When I look to my right, because confusingly that is stage left and that is stage right – for us– so when I cast an eye on stage right, I usually see big, big, big, big boppers. And they're yelling something… You girls know what that is? [AUDIENCE: OMEGA!] Yes… Yes… "You can breastfeed on me, Omega!" That is what they say! All of them! For some reason. So please, Tennessee, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Omega! Knoxville, Tennessee, USA (May 4, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Yeah! Alright… I know you have your heads screwed on here in Maryland, so I take it that you figured it out by now, right? It's the elements. Earth, Wind– Air, yes, and so on! But somehow… I heard different things coming out of the crowd every night, usually about here, the so-called stage left, because we see it the other way around, so we say stage left. There is a sound coming from the female parts of the audience of stage left. What do you think they say? Eh, no, they actually say something else. Can you try it again? You say "Alpha… Alpha… I want to be your Ghoulette, Alpha." "On the floor, right now," they say. "Come down here. Fuck that guitar shit! Come down and make me happy woman." So what do they say? [AUDIENCE: ALPHA!] Ladies and genitals, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Alpha! Our four-string axe tormentor… is now tormenting a G string. He does it very well. Please give it up for the multi-talented Nameless Ghoul called Water! Usually there 's murmur over at this side, too. You know what they're saying over here? Busty women, you say– what do you think they say? They're saying "Take me right here, right now, Omega," they say. Can you say that? Once more, give me one more try! [AUDIENCE: TAKE ME RIGHT HERE AND NOW, OMEGA!] Yes! That's what they say. So Baltimore, please give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Omega! Very good. Baltimore, Maryland (May 8, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Yeah! Eureka! What a fantastic solo! Alright… It is early in our relationship, but I think it's time that I test your mental powers. You're a smart bunch! By now, you figured it out, right? Earth, Air– elements, yes! Hon hon hon! Yes! Fantastic. However, to my confusion, one day I heard another name from this part of the stage. Do you know what they were calling out from here, stage left? Do you know what they say, what they yell, the females to our guitar player standing here? What? [AUDIENCE: ALPHA!] Yeah that's half of it. They say "I can take both shlong and balls at one time, Alpha! Just drop that guitar and give it all to me, instead." That's what they're saying, collectively, to my confusion. Richmond, Virginia, please give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Alpha! You're such foul mouths! I'm trying to keep it decent here. And speaking of nasty things, just look at this fingerwork! Not your fingers, your fingerwork. Our bass player here, who usually plays with four strings, he can handle six, he can handle 12… as if it was a vagina. Give it up for the multi-talented a Nameless Ghoul called Water! Magical fingers… What makes things even more confusing for me is hearing different things in my ears. Do you know what they're saying at this side of the venue –stage right, for us– do you know? You know what the whole sentence is? "Impregnate me right here, right now on this floor, Omega!" And that combined with the other sentence at the same is just fucking grief to me. Sounds fucking weird. But ladies and genitals, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Omega! Richmond, Virginia, USA (May 9, 2016)

PAPA EMERITUS III: Yeah! Alright see how smart you are… Have you figured it out now, then? If we have Earth and Wind, how do we continue? Those are the elements, yes! And you've already met Earth and Wind –or Air, if you want– and Fire and so on, yeah. But do you know what –especially the ladies here of so-called stage left– what they are yelling most of the time? What's that, honey? [AUDIENCE: ALPHA!] That's half of the sentence. They usually yell: "Omega, why don't you drop this rock business and just come down here on the floor and impregnate me, right here, right now?" That is what they yell. So uh, can you all yell that? [AUDIENCE YELLING] Alright, that's close enough. But ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Alpha! Ladies, maybe you noticed that, uh, up until now, your ass has been shaking and wobbling like this. But now it's sort of stopped. It's because of those four strings that are not represented on stage right now, because the guy who usually makes your ass wobble is right now playing a guitar. So please give it up for the multi-talented A Nameless Ghoul called Water! So, ladies of stage right, what are you usually yelling? [AUDIENCE: OMEGA!] Again, that's just part of it. You have to learn the whole line: "Why don't you jizz all over my whoppers, Omega, right now?!" That is what they say. So say it! "Why. Don't. You. Jizz. All. Over. My. Whoppers. Right. Now. Omega?!" [EXACTLY ONE GUY IN THE AUDIENCE REPEATS IT] Right on, dude! Good work! Alright, Indianapolis, give it up for a Nameless Ghoul called Omega! Indianapolis, Indiana, USA (May 19, 2016)

[blackbird5154]

𖤐 Encyclopedia of Terzo 𖤐

I've been thinking a lot about how the personality of Papa III was created. Tobias set the basic framework, the archetype, the cliché from which he drew. But the real implementation of Papa was on stage, where his image developed through improvisation. Some things were conceived on purpose, some were invented on the spot, some came out unplanned, due to circumstances. Papa turned out to be as lively and unpredictable as life itself. In many senses, he lived on stage.

Thanks to the research of concerned fans, there is quite a lot of material. It occurred to me to collect them in one post for those who want to get acquainted with the canonical image of Terzo. This catalogue uses materials from two users, Cityofmeliora's and myself. You can use them for fanfiction or just for your own amusement. So, allow me to introduce Papa Emeritus III!

Cityofmeliora: Transcriptions and facts

Radley @cityofmeliora has an academic degree in Terzo Studies. He did a great job watching probably 100% of the Terzo videos and bringing us some interesting insights about his personality from the Terzo mines.

▸ notes / thoughts on Terzo's characterization (Terzo is so disappointed and depressed and i love him)

▸ Terzo's mom was mentioned twice

▸ quotes on Secondo and Terzo's age gap / the Emeritus brothers having different mothers

▸ TF on the archetype of Papa

▸ about Terzo's height...

▸ Terzo's sweet tooth 🍰🍫

▸ Secondo lied about being able to speak Swedish, and Terzo lied about *not* being able to speak Swedish

▸ according to the Nameless Ghouls, Terzo is better than Secondo because he has hair and is "less smelly" 😂😂

▸ TF breaks character a little too much and accidentally makes it canon that Terzo has a child 💀👶

▸ Who is Mysterious Spectre?

▸ transcript: Terzo's first concert - Linköping, Sweden (June 3, 2015)

▸ transcript: Sweden Rock Festival (June 4, 2015)

▸ Terzo lying about his knowledge of Swedish AGAIN!

▸ Terzo talking about his mom <3

▸ Papa Nihil taught his sons to sing

▸ Terzo hates it when people are bad at clapping 👏👏👏

▸ Terzo knows he's always yapping <3

▸ Terzo is hard of hearing 🦻

▸ Terzo did WHAT in Poland? 😳

▸ Terzo totally not bragging about his Grammy 🙄

▸ Terzo + children 🥰

▸ Terzo had eye infections???

▸ "And it is very important that you respect the fact that there are kids and there are"

▸ Terzo thinks 'Cirice' is a sad song

▸ Terzo getting angry

▸ Terzo's fucked up sore throat voice 🤒

▸ Terzo mentioning Secondo 😎

▸ Terzo mentions his parents 🧑‍🤝‍🧑

▸ Terzo + family 👪

▸ Terzo + being old 👴

▸ Terzo saying quesadillas are his favorite food 🧀

▸ Terzo is NOT a fluent / native Italian speaker 🤭🇮🇹

▸ Terzo + musical instruments 🎹🎸🥁🎺

▸ Terzo hates it when people pronounce "Meliora" incorrectly ☝️🤓

▸ What does terzology know about the overthrow of Papa III?

▸ sad, sad Terzo + 'If You Have Ghosts' 🌙

▸ Terzo is "an isolated kind of guy"

▸ Terzo's clothes are too big for him 👖

▸ Terzo talks about Ghost visiting Philadelphia the same week as pope francis ✝️

▸ Terzo + poor balance + falling ⚠️

▸ TRANSCRIPT: Terzo talking about the Nameless Ghouls during "If You Have Ghosts" (acoustic version) interlude 🎸🎸🎸

▸ Who is Bp. Necropolitus Cracoviensis

Blackbird: Observations and analysis

My modest contribution to terzology was an attempt to summarise observations and look inside the head of the mysterious Papa III.

▸ Part 1: Terzo's responsible attitude to work

▸ Part 2: The jokes about height

▸ Part 3: The relationship between Terzo and Secondo

▸ Part 4: The ideas behind the birds and the bees speech

▸ Part 5: Terzo's other beliefs that he broadcasted

▸ Part 6: Terzo and his loneliness

▸ Part 7: Terzo is referring to Cartesian philosophy?

▸ Part 8: Papa lll's special kung fu

▸ Part 9: Terzo tried to unite the Church

[solecize]

THE FARMHOUSE MASTERLIST

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision. despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃: 02/22/24 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃: 04/15/24 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook,small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining, jungkook as a parental figure. warning for explicit language, substance use and mentions of death. 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. nothing is proofread (sorry)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ extra: playlist. interlude. epilogue ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ part one: the storm, the envelope and the grandaughter ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ part two: the caretaker and the sister ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ part three: the letters, the saloon and the second storm ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ part four: the routine, the posters and the dancefloor ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ part five: the phone call, the apology and the confession ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ part six: the dreams and the sunday market ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ part seven: the all-nighter ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ part eight: the final storm ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ part nine: the plan, the failed plan and the distractions ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ part ten: the midsummer festival

[artsninspo]

Richmond Inc. | Terrance's Interlude

to be read after part 008

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」 「 ✦ aaron pierre & characters library ✦ 」

♠ authors note: a few of you wanted some insight into Terry's mind, so I wrote this quick little snippet that should explain a few things about him.

♠ warnings: mentions of a mothers death & sexual thoughts

♠ summary: following the events of part 008, we get our fist look into the thoughts of the man himself Terrance Richmond.

♠ pairing: Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre - Rebel Ridge) X Lorence Cole (Black Fem OC)

♠ word-count: ~1.1K

⌖ - Secure Location, Monte Carlo, Monaco

Looking at her suit again he counts the points of impact sustained during the firefight that they’d found themselves in. The worst was at her hip where the decoy had shot when she was trying to help him. Impressions from glass shards as they fell, the worst of which had cut through her dress just under her breast. Then there were the impressions on the feet. While Cassandra hadn’t encountered any fire it was clear that he could have lost Lorence. The realization unsettles him. He paces the length of his room in the safe house while in deep reflection. He’d founded Richmond Inc. because he had the ability to kill proficiently. Only he’d learned quickly that taking lives never fulfilled him the way preserving them did. Lorence Cole’s life was one he couldn't fathom being taken from her. The thought alone caused him chest pain. Her presence in his life felt serendipitous; and he was the last person to believe life's intangibilities. The harshness of life had killed his ‘faith’ in anything outside of what could be proven. If miracles existed and karma was real his mother would have never been killed after committing her life to the improvement of others. If life were fair Lorence would have never even been in that kind of situation.

“Rich, she’s stable. Nothing's broken or sprained, no clots, just a few bruises and a pulled hamstring” Joel says entering the room to update Terry. Joel has always considered Lorence a sister to him and yet he waited to suit up while his boss hadn't spared a moment to plan or protect himself.

“Is she still crying?” Richmond asks, laying the suit back down.

“No, she's trying to make sense of it all”

“She go through shock?” Terry asks.

“Yeah, the shakes,” Joel responds. 

“The authorities are snooping around. Do you want me to handle it?” Joel asks.

“Take point” Terry nods, needing a moment.

“Keep your phone close, in case I need anything” Joel sighs earning a nod from his boss in response.

“Will do” Terry nods.

He’d been too late for his mother. He’d been on the phone with her as she wrapped up with patients for the day. He’d been asking for fast food for their Friday night tradition. He heard the fear in her voice as the client came into her office, he heard her beg the man to stay calm. His babysitter was in the process of calling the authorities when he heard what he’d learn later was the sound of bone cracking and his mother screaming. He’d froze then before deciding to run the ten minute drive to his mothers office. Only then he hadn't been strong enough to keep pace. He hadn't been old enough to drive either. He arrived after the police to see a bloodied woman being lifted onto a gurney. He knew she was dead the way her hand hung lifelessly. Taking a breath Terry shakes the memory out of his head, the trauma of the event bringing him back to the moment where his heart raced so violently he thought his life was over right there. Lorence’s screams had brought him right back there.

He’d redeemed himself and somehow he still felt like a failure for not saving her from the predicament altogether. Being in Lorence’s presence had him thinking of his mother more than ever. His mother was unconventional, she didn’t dote on him like most boy moms do. He was the apple of her eye but never to his own detriment. She spoke to him like he was an adult explaining all of her actions thoroughly. She told him all the secrets to life she knew, and all the paradigms she’d studied even if he wouldn't understand them at such a young age. She called their outings field trips. He was often the only kid in the company of adults. To make things more interesting they played observational games where he learned about body language. Signs of deception, truth, discomfort and the whole nine yards. He’d imagined his mothers smirk on several occasions when Lorence rejected his attempts at kindness. Pride is poison. His mother would often say - she’d been right. Putting his pride aside had worked wonders with Lorence and was the reason he reached the venue to protect her.

His thoughts go back to the truth, the full extent of it. The reason he’d been so tense during his first meeting with Lorence. The reason he’d grilled her was to be sure she was a qualified candidate and not a desperate attempt by Cassandra to pull him out of depression. It would’ve worked too if she'd been a hooker like he thought. If it weren't for the barber's cape covering him, every attendee in the room would’ve known he was thinking with his dick. He found himself staring all the time during those first few weeks of her employment waiting for her to disappear, for her to not be real, for her face to be some kind of high level prosthetic sorcery. His thoughts would oscillate then to her coming into his office and letting him have his way with her. He's order her to strip and then fuck her right there in his office. Terry dug deep to find deceptionand ulterior motives but there were childhood and graduation photos to confirm she was real and exactly who she claimed to be. He’d verified the metadata on his own. Lorence’s presence was making him so crazy he looked into the social media profiles associated with her to be sure nothing was a foot. Then he sought her out a few times, only she avoided him like the plague. That had made him angry, women seldom refused his advances, half the time they came to him but not Lorence who looked at him like he was the boogieman. Eventually Richmond took the hint because just seeing her around made him feel again. He found himself thinking about her at random. Looking through her files for information about her. Weighing his options. Trying to conceive of ways to get closer before giving up altogether. But the other night had changed all that for him. She had let her guard down and walked alongside him for hours. She was unguarded and somehow more beautiful. She was real. And by some strange coincidence she’d come to know Joel and started working for him just as he’d begun to give up. It was unspoken, the minute he’d seen her eyes - he’d been hers. After possibly losing her, now it was time to accept it.

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed this quick look into Terry's mind. Chapter 009 should be out sometime before the end of this week. Just in case you missed it (I don't think any of you did 😆) I was playing coy about the origins of Terry's attraction. No Lorence doesn't look like his mother. There's no weird Oedipus complex going on. But there is a reason Cassandra would know Lorence is his type. Lets see if any of you can guess it 😉

next part 009

TAGS:

@wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana

@theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads @roxytheimmortal @fairytale07 @rampsen @rosey1981 @lauraaan182 @lynaye1993 @g1g1l @writingsbytee @different-fandomz @rose-bliss

@loveschrisbrown20 @cherrybeedotcom @ariiaellbtheedonn @motheroffae @prettylilteine @thabiddie23 @next-bex-bet @magik22 @slvt4her @blckblossom @gopaperless

@naughtynolly-blog @daddiespamm @blackmoonchilee @nikkireeds553 @lovedlover @akiwioflife @shurisleftearring @piscesdashcam @bettybelle @kaystacks17 @notapradagurl7

@hotebonynearby  @armani9-9 @wildcardmelaninfreak @blackgurlkillinit @rigatonitony

[mllekurtz]

Shadowgast Fic Playlists

Some themed lists of my shadowgast works under the cut, including:

atmospheric one shots

modern and/or human aus

academia aus

silly, fluffy one shots

fics set in Exandria

long fics

smutty fics

This was suggested to me a while ago by a friend. I've written a bunch of shadowgast fics with different tags, ratings and vibes, but there are recurring patterns in most of them. I hope this is useful to anyone who'd like to approach my body of work, or reread some of it, or feels in the mood for something very specific, or wants to read the exact same fic again but different.

Atmospheric One-Shots

Fics set in a distant time and place, with a focus on the characters but also a rich backdrop of history and lore. Best enjoyed in a cozy setting with your warm beverage of choice.

the end of all our exploring (the gardener fic)

The Empire of Lights (the vibes au)

remote times and places and ultimate causes (the medieval au)

at the violet hour (the long distance relationship fic)

Modern and/or Human AUs

These stories have an emphasis on the modern setting and are farther from canon. Read if you want to meet the wizards at school, at work, on a train, at a conference...

strange magic (set in "modern" Rexxentrum)

The Empire of Lights (set in "modern" Rosohna)

remote times and places and ultimate causes (set in real life Europe in the Middle Ages)

after hours (they meet in a bar)

all this science i don't understand (small town vibes)

(your face in my hands is) everything good i need (set in modern France and Germany)

Fundamental Forces Other Than Gravity (set in "modern" Rosohna)

Academia AUs

Stories that emphasize the academic setting, with the wizards as either students or teachers. Just a different flavor of nerds in their natural habitat, really.

(your face in my hands is) everything good i need (humanities professors)

Fundamental Forces Other Than Gravity (grad student/TA)

all this science i don't understand (high school teachers)

life's too short to even care at all (they found a school in canon Exandria)

Silly, Fluffy One-Shots

Bite-sized snacks with a high sugar content, with no other purpose than putting a smile on your face. Read as a quick pick-me-up whenever things are hard.

library etiquette (a big misunderstanding)

strange magic (the commuter au)

after hours (the blind date au)

Fics Set in Exandria

Either canon compliant or divergent, these fics are all set in the world of Critical Role. If you're not a modern au person and would rather enjoy the wizards in their original setting, these are for you.

at the violet hour (mainly set in Caleb's house in Rexxentrum)

the end of all our exploring (set in Blumenthal)

eleventh hour (set on a beach in Rumblecusp)

the to make an end series (set in Aeor)

displacement (also set in Aeor)

birds of prey (a Scourger au that eventually becomes a retelling of campaign 2, set all over Wildemount)

eternally present, unredeemable (mainly set in the Cobalt Soul Archive in Zadash)

life's too short to even care at all (set in Caleb and Essek's school, near Zadash)

soft driven slow and mad like some new language (set in the Nein Sided Tower)

Long Fics

Sometimes you want to curl up with tea and a novel-worth of fic. This list has got you covered.

birds of prey ("evil" au, still in progress)

The Witcher au (your wizards, but as a witcher and a sorcerer)

The cost of living series (unfinished, but still pretty long)

Smutty Fics

I know some of you are here for this, and good for you. These are my spiciest one-shots, enjoy.

jealousy 

discretion (with saturdaysky)

antinomy 

displacement 

remote times and places and ultimate causes 

risk exposure from the birds of prey series

the awful daring of a moment’s surrender from the to make an end series

where's the point in hurrying (when waiting feels so great)

soft driven slow and mad like some new language 

an interlude and musica universalis from the cost of living series

[summerspectre]

some resources to make today a little lighter

or, a really silly list of things that have kept me sane

cartoons, movies, animations— oh my!

into the spiderverse

gravity falls season 1

the amazing world of gumball

regular show

kitbull + pixar shorts

bluey

a random powerpuff girls full episode & also there's a second one (original series dw)

ramshackle thesis + pilot + stone gets microwaved

lackadaisy

game grumps animated

mbmbam animated + original non-animated podcast (some funny shit

the egg (one of my favorite short stories, feels topical)

youtube reccomendations that are overall a good time

yknow the guy who makes the ghost songs every year (ghost duet, choir, etc.)? he does cool shit (louie zong)

nerdy nummies (go rosanna)

cinematherapy (a family + couples therapist & a filmmaker react to films (ex: nimona, tangled, pride and prejudice, up, coraline) and draw very real and grounding lessons from them)

jaiden animations videos

elyse myers vlogs (vlogs as a creator with autism, agoraphobia, and ocd and i find her insights to be incredibly comforting + takes extra care to keep her family separate from her work and is worth supporting if you need a comfort youtuber)

miscellaneous myths (myths from different cultures told in bite sized videos, done by an excellent team)

minecraft youtube newer and older to binge

minecraft oasis - ihascupquake

aphmau minecraft diaries origins, 1, 2, rebirth

aphmau mystreet s1, s2, s3, s4, interlude, s5, s6

aphmau phoenix drop high (mystreet prologue) s1, s2

legitimately one of the best resources to binge dsmp

-> technoblade dsmp

"actually good videos" - a technoblade playlist

-> + @royalarchivist has plenty of qsmp clips :) i will not be further endorsing the series itself for personal reasons but it's still important to the mcyt community & archivist does an excelling job archiving

(if anyone has good playlists for the life series or hermitcraft, please repost with them!)

all time tumblr favorites

tumblr folk stories (highly recommend god of arepo)

queer granddad spongebob

bumblebees rolling balls around

the making of emperor's new groove

alex hirsch vs disney censors (this is on youtube but it feels tumblrian)

resources for...

caring for your introvert (a silly amongst the serious)

if you're lost right now

after a long cry

if you're falling out of a plane right now (completely serious. no jokes anymore i already spent my silly)

the trevor project online chatting option

the trevor project site (tap anywhere quickly to exit immediately)

crisis hotlines

(stay alive, you've got this)

relaxing/asmr

hang out with piplup

squirtle's day at the beach

pikachu by the patio

relaxing minecraft long play

accounts i suggest for a boost in joy:

-> @akindplace

-> @twopartposts

-> @traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors

-> @i-am-a-fish (never seen a bad take)

-> @artsyaxolotl

-> @world-heritage-posts

and if you're reading this post at all, please feel free to add!

[peppertaemint]

Jikook & "Are You Sure?!" : The Beauty of Mundane

The much-maligned reality-TV format deserves most of the criticism and ire it provokes. Schlocky production values and pre-tense often lead to melodramatic fakery that people want to believe because they're bored. We've all succumbed to it; I've seen more than my fair share of Big Brother seasons. But the thing that reality can do, if it doesn't try too hard, is give us a window to life that sits between documentary and that unscripted faux-world, and I think Are You Sure?! makes a wonderful example.

The situations are both planned and imposed on this show, from Connecticut to Jeju to Sappparo. Jungkook and Jimin planned the trip along with producers and agreed to film it as content, a loathsome word if there ever was one. What we see is not genuine real-life, despite what Jimin states in Sapporo; it's a mediated view into the pair's life on camera together -- a life they seem to want to share together and with fans.

What makes AYS work so well is their naturalness on camera and together. I'm struck by how comfortable both facets of their lives seem after just over ten years of vlogging together under agency Big Hit.

We see how much they enjoy existing together, grappling with the highs and lows of the mundanity of travel. I say mundanity specifically because so much of travel is just that -- your life simply transported to a pretty view. It's still full of stomach aches and flus, good and bad food and wide-ranging moods. Seeing Jungkook patiently take care of Jimin, ensuring he took his medicine, and then creating a doltap, the traditional practice of rock stacking to ward off bad luck and bring in good energy, was a healthy glimpse into the everyday of their shared life.

The most telling part of the show is, rather ironically, the worst part -- the three-episode interlude with their unexpected guest in Jeju, Taehyung. Our duo made no bones about the fact that the guest invited himself to their trip -- their special time -- and took every possible opportunity to remind him of his status as unwanted guest.

The entire vibe of the show changed because of Taehyung's presence, and not just because JiKook were put out by the whole thing. His presence changed their dynamic toward one another as well, seemingly disrupting their status as a duo. It was as though there was a need to cater to the guest, to an extent, and to put aside their interest in one another to a marked degree. That in itself is incredibly telling for their relationship.

Luckily, the show bookended itself with JiKook solo trips, and it ended in Sapporo where the duo seemed to be most comfortable and in their element, embracing the romance and magic of the snow resort in Japan. This was a welcome contrast to the funny, fish-out-of-water vibe of NY and Connecticut.

What will stay with me is the joy in the mundanity that the two showed throughout the show, but especially when left alone. The fun of grocery shopping when you're with your person. The enjoyment of playing cards, cooking, or simply going to bed when you're with your person. It's easy to forget there is a team of people watching over them for the majority of the show, filming or simply observing. And I wonder if sometimes Jungkook and Jimin forget, too.

[baurbiediv]

silk press

rafe cameron x black!gf

content warning: smut (wrap b4 u tap) use of “mama” like twice, go read the rest, i don’t wanna spoil it pookie

authors update: yooo, this shit is NOT proofread, if you see any mistakes mind your businesssss!!! 😭😭 mdni!!

the sound of drake’s ‘cameras/good ones do interlude’ could be heard over the sounds of heavy panting, the smell of weed filling the air along with your soft whimpering, “r-rafe.. s-stop you’re gonna mess up my h-hair-“ you breathed out, hand faintly tapping on his lower stomach. but before another word could escape your lips, rafe grabbed your chin, shutting you up.

“move your hand away from my stomach or i’ll stop.” you quickly moved your hand as you gripped onto his arm for dear life. so now here you were, getting your shit pounded in cause someone couldn’t control himself, it amazed you how this man had you folded in half like a pretzel, your legs were almost pressed into your chest, knees shy of being able to touch your chest thanks to rafe’s big hands, his nails digging into the skin on your thighs. rafe pushed your dress further up your stomach, wanting nothing more than to be closer to you.

but what what more could this man have possibly wanted? he was balls deep inside of his beautiful girlfriend, watching her eyes threaten to roll to the back of her head, the small necklace he bought you with his initial ‘r’ studded in diamonds, placed perfectly on your chest, just the sight of that had his dick growing hard inside of you. rafe’s hand snakes down and pressed down onto your stomach, causing a loud moan to rip from your lips, rafe’s arm just seemingly wasn’t enough for you, he was quite literally fucking you dumb. his hips ramming into the plush of your ass. “you feel me right there?” he asked as he grabbed your hand, pressing your hand down on the bulge. thank god for this empty lot covered in trees or this would’ve been a real nasty sight to see. rafe’s blacked out jeep with the passenger door open, your feet sitting pretty on his shoulders, his hand holding the nape of your neck, a mix your cum and his from previous orgasm spilling out of you and creating a sticky white ring around the base of his dick.

rafe kept an arm extended around the nape of your neck, keeping your head upright. he loved when he had you like this, melting under his touch. “hey,” he said, snapping his fingers in front of your face. your eyes were threatening to close on him as you felt the tip of your orgasm on your tongue, “i need you to keep those pretty brown eyes on me mama, you hear me?” you nodded, as you did your best to keep your eyes open just like he asked you to, but of course he made that impossible, because you felt the calloused fingertips of his ring and middle finger rubbing on your swollen clit. your mouth fell open as he caught notice of this “shhh, i got you, i got you.” he whispered as he leaned in closer to you, opening your legs wider, allowing him to shove his dick deeper into you. his fingers sped up on the swollen bud, not letting up.

your moans progressively getting louder and louder, the only way of shutting you up was rafe lightly squeezing your neck, his lips ghosting yours, “if you make one loud fucking noise, you risk getting us caught, you don’t want that do you?” he asked, you shook your head almost instantly, you really did try your hardest to pay attention to what he was telling you, but you couldn’t. he looked so good, sweat covering his forehead, neck and chest. his gold chain resting nicely on his chest as it shined under the dim light of the car, along with that god forsaken black tank top, but you nodded along to his words not thinking anything of it, your legs started shaking, your stomach feeling funny.

rafe’s dick was hitting all the right places, he had your your toes curling, “s-shit rafe s-low downn!!” you squeaked out, his movements never halting, “i-i’m gonna c-cum!!” you arched your back off the seat, rafe smirking, “i got you, come on.” he said, rubbing your clit faster, applying more pressure. your hand flew to his stomach as your juices splurted over his fingers, his abs and lower stomach and dick. your body fell back against the seat, your thighs feeling sticky, “hey that was cute and all but i’m still not done.” rafe mutters before pulling out of you, you whine from the lost contact, and before you know it he’s pulling your legs further out of the car and flipping you over onto your stomach, “r-rafe baby there’s no room-“, you were cut off before rafe’s pushing his dick back into your sensitive pussy, his left hand pushed down on your back to deepen your arch as much as he could while his right hand made its way back to your hair, “i don’t care,” he moaned loudly pushing your head further down into the seat, the sound of your ass clapping against his stomach has rafe’s head going crazy.

you poorly attempted to cover your mouth, whines slipping out occasionally, this all he wanted. you placed your hand on the console for support. this was all he ever wanted, he was able to fuck his pretty girl, y/n, and he in fact he believed she was prettiest girl on kildare and he knew he wanted you the minute he spotted you at the country club with your family. and what happened? he got exactly what he wanted, he was a smooth talker and he talked his way right a relationship with you, and this was the outcome.

your hand of course made its way back to his stomach, this time removing his hand from your head and pinning your wrist down onto your back, your whimpers grew louder, “rafe, it’s t-too muchhhhh” you whined, “that’s okay, you can do it, i-i’m close..” he groaned loudly, hearing him panting behind you, his hips hitting harder and deeper, you felt the familiar feeling of your pussy squeezing around him. “where do you want me?” he breathed, squeezing the skin of your hips, your overstimulation pushing both you and rafe to the edge. “inside p-please,” you whimpered out feeling hot spurts of his cum shoot inside your pussy. rafe pulled out of you, your hips jerked and your legs shook a little. he pulled his boxers and nike sweats back up as he presses a kiss against your lips before smiling. he closed your car door before making his way to the passenger side. you slowly closed your legs as you sat up looking for your black thong, “first you fuck up my silk press then you steal my thong??” you huff.

“‘m sorry baby, i’ll pay for you to get your hair done again and who cares about that stupid thong, i’ll buy you 10 more, how does that sound?” he looked over at you, as he sat back in his seat. your arms were crossed but you couldn’t help the smile that was evident on your face.

he leaned over the console, “gimmie a kiss.”

he said, you obliged and leaned over and kissed his lips.

“i love you y/n.” “i love you more rafey.”

did you guys miss me?? 😏

[thedubiousdallon]

Okay, fuck it, I've built up enough goodwill with this sideblog - let's risk it all by sharing my opinions on how Amy is handled in Ward.

It's kinda complicated I think.

Okay, now that I've resisted the urge to immediately hit post for the bit: I think the way her interludes are written substantially flattens her character in a way that I find distasteful and unpleasant, but I find the overall shape of her arc and her role in the narrative compelling. The things I dislike have been well-covered by plenty of other people in the fandom, so I'm going to focus on the things I like.

To talk about Amy's role in Ward, I first need to talk about my interpretation of Ward as a whole. To me, Ward is, above all else, about trauma and recovery. Society is traumatized by the end of the world, the shards are traumatized by the death of Scion and their loss of purpose, individuals are traumatized by all the things individuals are traumatized by. As an aside, this reading is a big reason why I'm not too bothered by a lot of the world building choices that other people frequently (and fairly) criticize - I think many of them serve this theme effectively.

One specific facet of that reading that I find particularly compelling is Ward's interest in people who are traumatized not just by the harm done to them, but by the harm they've done. Characters don't just regret what they've done, they don't just want to be better, they are traumatized by it, and their reactions to that trauma are as messy and complicated as any other traumatized people. I don't always agree with the stances the text takes on how to deal with having done harm and been traumatized as a result, but I find the exploration of the topic compelling.

Enter The Altruistic Amy Dallon.

Amy's arc in Worm was, to a degree, a prototype of this kind of storytelling. She is repeatedly and horrifically traumatized, the actions she eventually takes in response to that experience inflict equally horrific trauma on her victim, and she is further traumatized by her own actions almost to the point of ego death. She removes herself from the environment she was in, begins rebuilding her sense of identity and ethics, and reemerges having grown, prepared to do better going forward and to make reparations for her past actions as best she can. Arc done! It's satisfying and cathartic, and we leave content in the knowledge that the part she's on will take her to better places. It's the quintessential appeal of a redemption arc, and it's a strong example of its type.

There's something people like to say a lot when talking about mental health and personal growth in real life, and that is that progress isn't linear. It's an important truth to understand.

It's rarely true in fiction. Very often, in redemption arcs, in personal growth arcs, after a series of false starts and setbacks, the character reaches a critical point where they resolve their conflict and either overcome it or succumb to it. From that point on, their nature or behavior is fundamentally changed - if they've grown they never relapse past a certain point, or do so only fleetingly, or else never improve past a certain point. This makes sense from a storytelling perspective, but it doesn't map to how growth often works in real life.

In Ward, Amy occupies the very rare narrative position of being who completes her arc of growth and redemption, who crosses that critical threshold of lasting, meaningful change... but backslides anyway, to the point of essentially losing all that progress.

It's an outcome that I find very believable for her, honestly. Her newfound worldview and conviction were forged in the very insular environment of the Birdcage - of course they would be impacted by her new environment. She says at the end of Ward that she had been able to excuse all of her worst behavior because she had convinced herself that she could fix anything - and at the end of Worm, I can see how she would come to think that! She's been pardoned and released from Forever Prison, she overcame her old aversion to brains to create Khepri and thereby saved the world, she's formed a positive relationship with the father she never thought she'd meet, she's receiving love and support from parents she never felt good enough for, she's using her powers to help people in a way that doesn't make her want to die, and she even "fixed" Victoria, when failing to do that before was the final nail in the coffin she just finished clawing her way out of! The sheer number of seemingly impossible things she's accomplished, of apparently irreversible failures she's seemingly put right, is mind boggling! It'd be the easiest thing in the world to let that go to your head!

Her social circle is also a perfect environment to enable her worst tendencies - there's no one left in it whose opinion she trusts that's willing to call her on her shit. Marquis doesn't see anything wrong with her behavior, Carol is trying to make up for a decade of neglect and unwarranted criticism, Mark just wants everybody to get along and be happy, and Riley and Rinke are pretty shaky on this whole human decency thing themselves! With a (not unjustified) pride in how far she'd come, a circle of willing enablers, a complete lack of moderating influences, and a bulletproof get-out-of-moral-culpability-free card, and two years to spiral, I find her backsliding to be completely believable. And given that Victoria is the fly in the ointment to all of this, that her continued refusal to have anything to do with Amy gives lie to Amy's belief that she can fix anything, and thereby puts the entire edifice of her self-rationalizations at risk, it also makes perfect sense to me that Amy would become fixated on her, on proving that she really can fix anything.

Of course, being believable isn't the same thing as being compelling. The thing that makes all this so resonant for me is that, at the end of Ward, after being this grasping spectre that haunts Victoria the whole book, after rejecting countless opportunities to demonstrate a hint of self-awareness or the slimmest motivation to change - Amy does. She sits down with a therapist. She rips off the band-aid - both the metaphorical one and the literal one made out of Victoria's skin, jesus christ Amy - looks at what she's done, at how she went awry, and resolves to do better. And we end with her in essentially the same place she was at the end of Worm: prepared to do better going forward and to make reparations as best she can. But the journey she has taken to get there gives the destination entirely new meaning for me. She's already fumbled her chance at redemption! But her journey gives lie to the idea that you only have one chance, or two, or any finite number! Every moment you draw breath is a chance to do better.

To me, Amy Dallon's arc in Ward shows that the most important step you can take is the next one, and no matter how many times you walk up and down that road, it never stops being true. And I find that compelling as hell.