#song is where have those hands been by the paper chase

[cherryviscera]

i know it all, i know everything

[cerisesparadise]

still with you ㅡ park jongseong

genre - romantic drama, contemporary romance, lovers to exes (to lovers again? I’ll let you guys decide <3), slight angst?

pairing - idol ex bf!jay x fem!reader

warnings - none? It’s quite nostalgic and melancholic, fitting to the rainy fall weather (and this week’s theme on bjnet!) does an open ending count? (definitely does for me lol) - lmk if I should add any!

wc -  2.1k

synopsis - In a cosy café where they once shared quiet moments, she now sits alone, missing Jay—an artist whose career has skyrocketed since they mutually parted ways. Though she supports him from afar, she can’t help but wonder: is their story truly over, or is there still a way back to each other?

a/n - hii! welcome to my first official post under bjnet! this week’s theme is “A rainy day”, and since it’s been pouring this whole week, my rainy days playlist came back. On shuffle, Jungkook's Still With You started playing–my absolute favourite song–so I was inspired to write about Jay! Hopefully the weather’s been better for you guys, and enjoy reading! | bookshelf

The rain drummed softly against the café windows, each drop cascading down the glass like tiny rivers tracing a path to nowhere. It was one of those quiet, overcast afternoons when time seemed to slow, and the world outside became a blur of muted colours. Inside the café, the warmth of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of low conversation wrapped around you, but none of it reached deep enough to distract you from the thoughts swirling in your mind.

You sat at the same table by the window, your fingers tracing invisible lines on the surface, where your books used to lie scattered. Back then, this corner had felt like your own private world—yours and Jay's. You could almost see it now, like a film playing out in front of you. He would sit across from you, his notebook open, guitar resting against the chair. Sometimes he’d hum under his breath, scribbling down lyrics, lost in the melodies that only existed in his mind until he could give them life.

You, on the other hand, were always hunched over textbooks and notes, eyes heavy with focus but heart light with the simple joy of being near him. The two of you didn’t always talk; sometimes, hours would pass in comfortable silence, with only the soft scrape of pen on paper or the occasional tap of a key on his laptop breaking the quiet. But it was a silence you cherished—a language all its own, one that spoke of contentment and understanding.

That was before.

Now, you were alone in that same café, staring out at the rain-soaked streets, lost in the bittersweet haze of what was, and what could have been. The weight of the empty chair across from you seemed heavier today, more tangible. Maybe it was the weather, or maybe it was the song softly playing over the café’s speakers—one of his. The familiar notes tugged at something deep inside you, each lyric a reminder of the memories you still carried.

You missed him.

You missed the way his voice would gently pull you out of your thoughts when he caught you zoning out during a study session, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at you from across the table, as if to say, I'm here, I'm with you. You missed the way he would sneak a lyric or a phrase into his songs that only you would recognize, something small, something that connected just the two of you in a world where he was meant to belong to everyone.

But life had demanded more of him than just this corner of a café, more than just you. It had demanded his passion, his ambition, his heart. And you had your own path to follow. He was chasing his dream—music, the one constant in his life since long before he had met you. And you had your own dreams too, though they felt a little lonelier now. The decision to part ways hadn’t been easy for either of you, but it had been mutual. Logical, even. You both had careers to build, lives to shape. And you knew, deep down, that holding each other back wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Some days were easier than others. You kept busy with your studies, threw yourself into projects and assignments, and told yourself that this was how it had to be. That it was right. You still believed that. You both deserved to chase the things that made you feel alive. But there were days—days like today—when you’d find yourself back here, sitting at the same table, looking out at the rain and wondering.

Wondering if it was all worth it.

You watched the raindrops slide down the window, each one chasing the other, much like your thoughts. There was a time when you believed that no matter what life threw at you, the two of you could weather it together. But then the opportunities came knocking for him—the tours, the interviews, the endless nights spent in the studio. He had made it. You watched him rise, his name lighting up stages and screens, his music reaching people in ways he had always dreamed of.

And you? You cheered him on. Always. From the shadows, from a distance. Every time you saw his name in the headlines or his face on your feed, a small, proud smile would tug at your lips. That was your Jay up there, living the dream you had seen him work so hard for. You had always known he had it in him. And now the world did too.

But what the world didn’t see was the quiet ache that lived in the spaces between. They didn’t see the way your heart clenched every time his voice filled the room, reminding you of the nights you spent here, when his music was just for you. They didn’t see the way you’d trace the letters of his name absentmindedly, lost in thought, wondering if he still thought of you too.

But sitting here now, with only the rain and the memories, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had made the right choice. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t think like that, wouldn’t let yourself slip into that spiral of what ifs—but it was hard. Hard not to believe, deep down, that you were supposed to be together. That despite everything, despite the distance, despite the lives you were building separately, you should have found a way to make it work.

A sigh escaped your lips as you picked up your coffee, now lukewarm, and took a small sip. The bitterness matched the mood settling over you, but it was a familiar comfort. The door to the café opened, and you looked up instinctively, your heart fluttering in your chest, just for a moment. There was always that sliver of hope, wasn’t there? That maybe, by some twist of fate, he would walk in. That the universe would bring him back to this table, to you.

But it wasn’t him. It never was. You smiled at yourself ruefully, shaking your head at the foolishness of it. Jay wasn’t coming back—not in the way you hoped, anyway. His path was set, and so was yours.

And yet, a part of you would always be here, in this café, waiting. Waiting for the impossible, for something that felt unfinished, unresolved. You could support him from a distance, as you always had. You could celebrate his successes, take pride in his accomplishments, cheer him on silently from the sidelines. But there would always be this ache, this quiet longing for the life you imagined, the one where you didn’t have to choose between love and dreams.

The rain continued to fall, a steady, rhythmic patter against the glass. And as you sat there, lost in thought, you knew that no matter how far apart your lives grew, no matter how much time passed, a part of you would always be with him. Just as he had said once, a long time ago, when things were simpler: “I’m still with you, even when I’m not.”

And in some ways, you still were too. Always with him.

As you continue to sit there, lost in the rhythm of the raindrops against the window, the café seems to melt away, taking you further into the labyrinth of your memories. You could still hear his laugh, feel the warmth of his hand when he’d reach out to touch yours, grounding you in the moment.

But now, that warmth is gone, replaced by the distant hum of the café, the clinking of mugs, the murmur of people around you. You sigh for the nth time, gripping your coffee cup tighter as if holding onto something that was never meant to stay.

Suddenly, a familiar voice breaks through the soft chatter. You blink, snapping out of your thoughts. It’s coming from the café’s radio–a voice you’d recognise anywhere. Jay’s voice. Your breath catches in your throat, heart pounding as the barista turns the volume up just a bit. You hadn’t heard his voice this way in months, not like this–so close, so familiar.

“...and that was Jay Park’s latest single, Still With You, topping the charts yet again. An instant hit since its release, fans are raving about the emotional depth and the heartfelt lyrics. We actually have Jay with us on the line. Jay, congratulations! Can you tell us a little more about the song?”

Your chest tightens, and you sit up a little straighter, pulse racing. Still With you? That can’t be. That was your song. The one he’d written in this very café, the one he’d promised was for you. He’d never intended to release it, or at least, you thought he wouldn’t–especially after the two of you had parted ways. But here it was, playing on the radio for the entire world to hear.

You lean forward, your heart pounding louder than the rain as Jay’s voice comes through the speakers again, soft but steady, like a familiar embrace.

“I wrote this song a while back… for someone special in my life,” he begins, his tone thoughtful. “She was… she still is special, even though she’s not by my side anymore. Without her, I wouldn’t be where I am now. I wouldn’t have found the courage to chase this dream. So I guess this song is my way of saying thank you… and maybe hoping for another chance. I don’t know if she’ll ever hear it, but—” He pauses, and for a moment, you could almost imagine him looking down, smiling softly the way he used to. “—I hope she’s still out there somewhere, hoping for another chance at love, just like I am.”

The radio host fills the silence with congratulations and questions about his tour, but you’re no longer listening. The world around you seems to blur, fading into the background as your heart races in your chest. His words echo in your mind, crashing over you like the rain against the window.

“She’s still special. I hope she’s still out there, hoping for another chance. Just like I am”

Jay. The song, the message—it was for you. It had always been for you.

The rain outside felt heavier now, or maybe it was just your pulse beating in your ears, drowning out everything else. You pressed a hand to your chest, trying to steady yourself, but it was impossible to ignore the sudden rush of emotion rising inside you. He hadn’t forgotten. Even after all this time, all the distance, he hadn’t let go. He was still thinking of you, still hoping, just as you had been, quietly, all this time.

Could this be it?

For a moment, you wondered if this was the sign you’d been waiting for—the universe’s way of telling you that maybe, despite everything, your story wasn’t over yet. It felt surreal–like something out of a dream. Jay, the one person you couldn’t forget, was reaching out, even if he didn’t know it.

You glanced out at the rain-soaked street beyond the café window, your reflection staring back at you with wide eyes and a heart full of questions. Could it really be that after all this time, Jay was still waiting for another chance? And more importantly, were you ready to find out?

The rain continued to fall, but for the first time in a long while, it didn’t feel so heavy. Instead, it felt like the beginning of something—something you weren’t quite sure of yet, but something that made your heart beat just a little faster.

You inhaled sharply, trying to ground yourself. Was this the sign you had been waiting for? A second chance? You had been so convinced that your story with Jay had ended, but now–now, it felt as if the universe was pulling you back together, one note at a time.

You stood up slowly, gathering your things, mind racing with thoughts of what to do next. Maybe today, you’d just walk home. Maybe tomorrow, you’d listen to his song again, really listen. And maybe, just maybe, you’d find the courage to reach out.

But for now, the café door opened with a soft chime, and you stepped out into the rain—unsure of where it would lead you, but feeling, for the first time in a long time, like the world had offered you a possibility.

A possibility of a second chance.

© cerisesheaven — please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, copy, or alter any of my works. thank you angel!

[jenctrl]

love is not a walk in the park*ೃ༄

"when something that should be a walk in the park feels like a maze for the feline and canine–at least it's beautiful, serene, and sunny!"

warning; from the blackcat!Y/n series, the parts don't need to be read in order!

a/n: reuploaded from old to new account

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

It was the gentle breeze that pushed the clouds to move, the way there was a faint buzz of bees in the distance, the scent of green grass and soil and the presence of two suns that brought Y/n a serene feeling within her. 

It was as if she was alone, but not lonely because, despite their different nature, Yunjin brought her something she had been missing.

That feeling of inadequacy became faint. 

The words in her book didn’t hold a deeper meaning than her being able to live one life and during that one life being able to feel warmth on her skin despite sitting in the shadow of the tree. 

This was the most normal her life had ever felt which was ironic considering people would disagree because she was an idol. It was though, because she hadn’t been able to live her life more freely than now even with certain restrictions that came with fame and the need to keep a neat image. 

Yunjin basked in the sun where half of the blanket was–the other in the shadow where Y/n sat–these moments were the most peaceful ones she had. In a hectic life, as a person who indulged in the hectic with her energetic personality, Yunjin appreciated that she had Y/n to balance that out for her. 

The scent of cinnamon and benzoin was one she associated with serenity; Y/n’s scent reminded her of how she could wind down at times. 

There was a certain flow to the way her pen moved along the pages of the notebook as she scribbled down lyrics. Those songs she would brush off as silly, knowing she would never release them, that were, at times, about the feline her eyes would glance at now and then. 

What exactly were they about? Yunjin couldn’t figure that out, she couldn’t pinpoint what it was that she described when writing about someone she could write books about. It left her lost, but she kept chasing after the only thing her mind could think of; Y/n.

She wanted to state that she knew Y/n the best which still wasn’t as deeply as some would think that it was. However, Yunjin unlike others was able to figure out Y/n’s disguise; the girl always told one-fourth of a whole story and while the rest took it for the complete version the girl knew that there was more. 

Pretty eyes worn as a disguise. 

She looked up from the notebook and at Y/n who was leaning her back against Yunjin’s side for leverage. 

What exactly was it that she felt for her? So much, too much to simply put it into words, but it surely did make it easier to get words out on paper.

The feline was the perfect muse; Yunjin’s muse.

However, Y/n remained a mystery Yunjin loved being around. 

“What if we made a song together?” 

She casually put it out there, not thinking much of it as she mindlessly doodled on the page, underlining certain words. 

It wouldn’t only get them closer as she would get to spend more time with Y/n, but the girl beside her was amazing with her words. Yunjin would be able to learn; Y/n was highly lyrical and expressed herself in artistic ways Yunjin had yet to grasp. 

“What?” 

Y/n put the bookmark between the pages before she closed the book, her eyes didn’t leave the cover though. Nerves and uneasiness washed over her at the suggestion, her fingers traced along the outlines of the book in her hands, not being able to comprehend why Yunjin would want to write a song with her. Scared that she would get exposed for the fraud she felt like she was in a place she was supposed to fit into, but never felt like she did. 

“I mean we don’t have to release it, but just work on something together like a side project for fun.”

Yunjin shrugged and shifted in her place to turn to Y/n who sat up straight. 

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

That wasn’t the problem that Y/n saw with it, there were many.

“I mean as in; why with me when there are better options?”

The problem was that the girl felt like she was the least sought-after option and Yunjin would acknowledge her for the con that she was. Y/n was sure that she lacked, especially among all these other talented people. She stood out like a sore thumb and for all the wrong reasons; the feline did her best to stay hidden. She didn’t fit in a crowd of people who were talented when there were so many things she could do and have done so much better. 

She had achieved such high things in life, but was that enough? Was she enough? No way. All that she had done, Y/n could have done better, couldn’t she?

“Are you kidding?”

No, Y/n wasn’t kidding and she wasn’t going to entertain it either as she rolled her eyes and looked back down at her book, opening it again. Yunjin knew just how to make everything melt in the end and Y/n didn’t like that; no, it wasn’t that she didn’t like that; she just didn’t understand how Yunjin always managed to do it.

She was so confused about what it was that drew her to Yunjin. She just knew that it was a want; a need. Y/n wasn’t fond of that, especially as someone who had always been independent; she did not want to possibly become even slightly dependent on someone. She could simply ignore her emotions like she always did by occupying herself and pretending that she didn’t need Yunjin when it came to certain things. 

Yunjin smiled, putting down her pen as she huffed and moved to lie down on her back. Her smile didn’t disappear as she loved seeing the feline, who puffed up her fur at moments like these, melt into a puddle just for her. She loved not only the puddle Y/n could be, but she also loved her for the pompous behaviour and the person she was.

Was that it?

Despite her eyes being glued to the words she wasn’t able to read them and she let Yunjin put her head in her lap. Y/n was doing her best to try and ignore her canine, but it was hard to ignore the sun when it was beaming right at her. 

“Y/n, you’re the most competent person I know when it comes to music, especially when it comes to writing lyrics.”

The book got gently moved out of the way, Yunjin being able to see more than the cover as she looked over Y/n’s face and now met her eyes. She was aware that Y/n appreciated compliments, she could see how they worked as reassurance to her feline who she knew was insecure on the inside despite the confident and cold facade. 

Yunjin was always there for the girl; she was a loyal life-long companion for her feline. 

Still, words alone wouldn’t melt away a facade like hers, but Yunjin managed to do it with more than just words. She did it by simply being herself and it left Y/n confused; lost in something that sounded like an easy walk in the park but was like a maze with continuous dead ends. 

“How would you know?”

Comically Yunjin pushed the book back, blocking their sight of each other as she looked off into the distance of the park. 

The green grass gently blew with the wind, the sun beamed strongly and warmed her skin, and the whistle together with the rattling of the branches and leaves above them filled the momentary silence.

However, Y/n put it down onto the blanket they were on and looked at Yunjin with raised eyebrows. As far as Y/n knew she hadn’t shared any of the lyrics she had written and had yet to agree to help with the lyrics for their group's songs. The fear of being caught was too immense.

“I might’ve stumbled upon some papers–” “Yunjin.” Y/n groaned and Yunjin cowered, ducking her head at the bookmark that she was smacked in the head with. 

“To be fair, you gave me your book to read and it just fell out.” She defended with a squeak, peeking up at Y/n with her lower lip now jutted out. 

Y/n heaved a sigh and reclined, lying down on the blanket–Yunjin’s head still resting on her lap–and she stared at the tree above them. The green leaves swayed with the light wind and the sky peeked through the cracks of the branches. She closed her eyes when the sun managed to seep through the cracks and held them closed for a while as her mind started to work a shift.

At the silence Yunjin moved, sitting up and turning to look at Y/n. There was something overly serene about the feline when she looked at her. The bright ray of sun splayed across her face and her dark hair glimmered in the light as she lay with her eyes closed. 

Was it the sun? Yunjin could feel her face heat up at the ethereal view of her feline so comfortable in the open field.

She pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging and resting her chin on them while staring at Y/n. The canine knew she could spend a whole day just looking at the cat-like girl in front of her. 

Her head tilted slightly to the side, “Y/n…” Yunjin carefully started and got a hum in return, watching the hues of the sun reflect on Y/n’s skin. “You’re not mad that I did, are you?” She warily asked because the last thing in the world that she wanted was to make Y/n upset with her. It wasn’t difficult to get Y/n annoyed–Yunjin was aware–but it was difficult to get her upset and angry.

It was extremely rare to see Y/n angry. Matter of fact over the past few years she’s only seen her angry once.

That was enough not to want to see more.

Yunjin held her breath when Y/n blinked her eyes open, squinting slightly at the bright light and her eyes glimmered like water did in the sun. Water Yunjin wanted to dive right into and swim in for an eternity. 

She stared at the girl who looked like a puppy that had been kicked to the curb. It was simply impossible to get upset with Yunjin. It made Y/n purse her lips for a second, the only person she was upset with was herself for being like ice cream in the sun when it came to her companion. 

Y/n exhaled, trying to cool off, but it was impossible when Yunjin’s big doe-like eyes stared at her like the sun. “No, I’m not.” The girl annoyedly admitted and the latter visibly perked up at the words, excitement evident because knowing that her feline wasn’t upset with her brightened her whole world which was filled with butterflies she loved to chase for the feeling. 

“Okay, and I’m sorry…It just happened to fall out and I didn’t know what it was at first so I read it thinking those were notes for the book.”

“I know you wouldn’t read if you knew, it’sfine.” 

Yunjin nodded as she manoeuvred around and lay on her stomach beside Y/n, resting her chin in her palm. Their eyes met as they stared at each other in yet another silence. It felt like a contest when in reality it was simply because neither of them wanted to look away. There wasn’t anything better to stare at in the end.

“Will you make a song with me then?” She at last repeated her question, but in a much smaller voice as if to not startle the girl.

Y/n broke their eye contact, but only to reach into her bag. Yunjin watched as Y/n blindly rummaged through it before she took out what she was looking for.

“Here, let’s look for some inspiration.” Yunjin happily grabbed one airpod and plopped down onto her back beside Y/n who opened her phone. 

“Do you have–” Y/n didn’t get to finish her sentence as Yunjin spoke up, “genuine love, like when you know that you’ve genuinely fallen in love because you are confused about why you fell in love in the first place.” 

The feline lolled her head to the side, coming face to face with Yunjin whose wide eyes gazed at her, a pink tint resting on the canine’s cheeks.

“You’re awfully cliché at times, you know?”

“Love is a cliché we can’t escape though, isn’t it?” 

“Unfortunately.” Y/n agreed and moved closer to the girl, resting her head on Yunjin’s shoulder so they could both look at her phone and be closer. 

The two didn’t need much inspiration though when they had each other.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

[purelyfiction]

stars in a line - robert 'bob' floyd x f!reader

Word Count: 1,207 words

Summary: Chicken's in the skillet, ice in the drink, head's in the clouds, diamond's in the rough, he's in a Chevy and I'm in love // Tips in the apron, hair's in a braid, Mercury's all in retrograde // He's in a T-shirt all cleaned up, Good lord almighty, mama don't wait up // Chills down my spine, hearts on the line, He's all mine and I'm in love

Content Warning: fluff!! also note of animal abandonment

Author Note: another round for @ohtobeleah 's galentines writings :))))))

the familiar rumble of the older engine makes your features split with a smile. when bob had told you he was gonna drive his truck from montana to california you thought he was losing his mind.

then he'd explained why he was so insistent.

that he'd taken you out in that '87 Chevy all those years ago. after weeks of coming into the diner you worked in after school, dozens and dozens of milkshake and fry basket combos (and subsequent heartburn) just so he could hang out with you. he'd gotten up the nerve to finally ask you out. that truck had been your front row seats at the drive in watching a rerun of some old army movie his dad had recommended.

he'd taken the two of you to prom in that truck. to high school graduation, your college graduation. when the engine died on you while he was stationed in atlanta he'd taught you how to fix the thing via facetime.

beverly the chevy had been there for so many of your big moments. she'd been the reason why bob ended up buying the house that you stood contently in.

'bev is gonna need a place out of the elements if she's gonna stay top notch.'

this house had been the only one with a two car garage. one side for bev and one side for your car.

now when the engine rumbles echoed in the garage and made the older house vibrate, you couldn't help but grin. the sizzling of chicken in a skillet on the stove greets bob when he steps into the kitchen. he's greeted with the smell and a bottle of wine in a pile of ice in the sink. the door to the garage shuts, and you glance over your shoulder. when you do, you're witnessing the brown paper bouquet in his hands, white t-shirt on his shoulders, levis hugging his waist, trucker cap right where it belongs. he knows what this does to you. it's a simple look, nothing more than the basics but that's what does it. it highlights him. the man you love, bare bones and all.

the same man you fell for in that truck bed all those years ago.

he slides his boots off and wraps his arms around you from behind you, showing off the flowers he carried in. "happy flowers to you," he's humming now, making you giggle as his arms tight around you start bouncing you back and forth as he sings to the tune of 'happy birthday', "happy flowers to you, happy flowers, happy flowers, to my valentine youuuuuu" he punctuates the end of the song with a sloppy kiss to your cheek as you ease the weight of the florals from his hand.

"these are stunning, bo." you grin as he lets go, letting you turn to face him fully as he smiles.

"i know, i picked 'em cause they remind me of you." bob grins before pressing a quick kiss to your lips, barely pulling back when he speaks again, "happy valentines, sweet girl." you repeat the sentiment before he takes the arrangement and starts to get them into water.

you can't help but stare as he begins trimming the ends of each stem, easing them into the vase. you can smell the freshness of his body wash, having showered on base before he came home to you. couldn't waste time on your night together - and he knew it. the combination on him is near lethal to you. if you weren't actively cooking dinner, the counter would have been supplying a different kind of heat to the kitchen.

"i bought you something!" you nearly startle him with your sudden announcement, the reminder of your gift hitting you as you watch him. running down the hall causes the pup in the living room to chase after you, causing you and bob to both laugh.

shadow had been an unplanned addition to your lives because the poor pup appeared on your back deck one night. the collar on his neck held your current address. the previous owners had barely been involved with the process of the sale, so you didn't have their contact information to tell them hey assholes, you left your dog.

so, you and bob joked that the house came with a guardian, a black lab and german shepherd mix (bob got his dna tested out of infuriating curiosity). he quickly clung to the two of you - thus 'shadow'.

you lug the box into the kitchen, where bob has kept an eye on the meal you had recklessly abandoned. looking at you he huffs a gasp. "sweet girl, this is unnecessary." he laughs, taking the wrapped gift from your arms and sliding it onto the counter. still, he tears into it and reveals the milkshake maker, making him laugh, looking over at you with a grin. "that why you got your hair all done like this?" he grins, his fingers moving over the braid you'd plaited this morning.

"maybe." you hum, kissing his cheek as he looks over the box holding the machine. that diner the two of you met in had closed not long after you moved to san diego. you'd spent hours there and he'd once complimented the ribbon in your hair when it was woven into the braid on your head. recently, bob had mentioned how he'd missed those milkshakes they'd always made him.

he grins, before tucking his hand into his pocket. "hold out your hand." you hold it out as he asks, palm up. what he sets into your palm catches you off guard.

you'd been expecting something small, likely a jewelry box or something, like the years before.

instead a little metal circle is dropped into your palm. shining and glimmering. diamonds along it like stars in a line. your spine is electrified with chills, as your jaw drops as you look at him in awe. "bob, what-you-"

"i can get on my knee if you want, i'm just- i'm so in love with you. i'm truly in awe of you and how valid you make me feel. how valued and cherished i feel - how you listen," his head nods to the machine on the counter, "and you care and you never fail to be the best. just simply the best. i hope that i am for you-"

cutting him off you speak, "and you are," he laughs.

"then i wanna continue being that for you. for forever." you're sliding the new piece of jewelry onto your ring finger before he can get the words out, your arms slinking around his shoulders and linking your lips with his.

when you pull back, you grin.

"you're mine. i'm all yours and i'm in love. i'm so in love with you. with our life and the path we're on." you whisper. his hand takes a hold of your arm before the two of you jump at the sound of a smoke detector, both of you scrambling to clear the kitchen of smoke.

when the alarm is off and the burnt chicken is tossed, you smirk as you pull ice cream from the fridge.

"ice cream for dinner?" you try. bob grins.

"how about milkshakes instead?"

[reviewsdefinitionofsatisfaction]

Taylor has been lying on Joe since You’re Losing Me (Important Thread)

I’ve been confident in this theory since Midnights, but didn’t know how to spread it. Taylor is now blatantly lying about Joe and rewriting history. SHE was the one who didn’t want to get married, and Joe broke up with her over it. She chose fame over marriage, and the evidence is all over her music.

Ever since I heard “Mine” I instinctively knew Taylor was afraid of marriage. It’s the classic child-of-divorce case. “You say we’ll never make my parents’ mistakes.” / “Brace myself for the goodbye ‘cause it’s all I’ve ever known.”

Her fear of marriage continues throughout her discography. Don’t let “Lover” and “Paper Rings” fool you—those were false promises to Joe at the start of their relationship. Listen to “champagne problems,” a song she and Joe co-wrote. What couple writes a song about breaking up because the girl is terrified of marriage 4 years into their relationship? Why, one where that’s happening, of course. “Your Midas touch on the Chevy door,” aka how she always references Joe turning things to gold. And don’t forget “Renegade,” a song where in the music video SHE is the one anxiously staring out the window being told to “open the blinds.” (“Is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything or do you just not want to?”, the lyric referring to Joe asking for marriage) This was a song written by Taylor from Joe’s perspective at the time. “I tapped on your window on your darkest night” (referring to Rep era) / “Starry eyes sparking up my darkest night.” … “And then you squeeze my hand as I’m about to leave.” (Joe’s POV) / “It’s on your face, don’t walk away, I need to say…” Taylor was the one always blowing up on him and then apologizing, as illustrated in Afterglow, The Great War, and most obviously her post-breakup behavior. Joe was NOT the volatile one of the two (also supported by articles released by her team, stating Joe’s personality was “great for Taylor” because “he is very calm”).

Then, just look at Midnights. The Bejeweled music video (which Taylor wrote and directed) is the clearest thing. A video all about choosing pop-stardom over a ring from a prince? While she and her boyfriend are having marriage disagreements? Hmmm. Interesting. Seriously, just go watch the intro to that video and tell me Taylor was the one fighting to get married behind the scenes.

Midnights lyrics: “He wanted a bride, I was making my own name. Chasing that fame.” (a person who WANTS to get married would NOT be writing this song!!!) “All they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride. The only kind of girl they see is a one night or a wife.” “No deal the 1950s shit they want from me. I just wanna stay in that lavender haze” “I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser.” “I have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money. She thinks I left them in the will.” (accompanied by elaborate scene displaying family-related anxieties in music video)

This is someone who is terrified of marriage and being an adult. I believe she launched herself into a fame-hug to avoid confronting her issues with Joe at this late stage in their relationship. After he broke up with her, she realized how deep of a mistake she made during the Eras Tour. Hence, the big lie in “You’re Losing Me” (which was written THEN, in 2023, conveniently dropped during the Matty Healy controversy) and her daring him to “say something” about the lie. (False God lyric: “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this, staring out the window like I’m not your favorite town.” When they fight, he was always the one ignoring her craziness.) And soon after, her peculiar surprise song choices on June 23: “Paper Rings” (“I’d marry you with paper rings”) and “If This Was A Movie” (“If this was a movie, you’d be here by now”).

The initial breakup article by People (Tree Paine’s mouthpiece) even outlines this story. “According to multiple sources, Swift and Alwyn had been ‘talking about marriage as recently as a few months ago.’ But at the end of the day, the couple wasn’t ready for a future together. ‘Taylor didn’t see them working out in the long run,’ says the insider.” This was before she wrote YLM, trying to provoke him, and now she will be driving it further with this new album I’m certain she wrote during 2023, NOT 2 years ago like she and Jack are trying to push. Her having Jack drop YLM’s “2021 date,” and then liking that tweet implying Sweet Nothing was not about Joe (when it was clearly about Joe)… she’s rewriting the narrative. You can’t trust a word she says.

[jeon-s-sins]

Fighter — Four

Synopsis: YN, a young student in her final year of a master’s degree in international business, is forced to move. She is in a “bad” part of Seoul, without much income. Prostitution, drugs, and violence are commonplace, and the police think twice before setting foot in the area. Jungkook, a young student living alone in this cruel world, is forced to fight underground to earn money to pay for his rent and expensive studies. Unfortunately, the two young people meet in a very inconvenient situation and will see their lives change overnight.

Warning: Mention of alcohol, violence (fight), bad words. You will discover the rest as you read, and there will be no spoilers. 😉

Word count: 7.1 k

Chapter song: Bumpy Ride by Mohombi 

n/a: English is not my first language, so I may have missed some mistakes while proofreading. It took a long time, but it’s finally here! I had a lot of fun writing this part, and I hope you enjoy it. Enjoy reading, and please don’t forget to vote, comment, and ask questions if there are any. 😁.

Translations, republications, and rewritings of my stories are not allowed. Failure to comply with this request will result in legal action.

©Jeon_s_Sins

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Spring was timidly announcing its return, gradually erasing the traces of winter. The days were slowly getting longer, and the golden twilight light warmed the still-chilly streets. The trees, which had lost their leaves months ago, were now adorned with delicate young buds, promising new blooms. Outside your home, the cherry trees, though not bearing fruit, blossomed majestically, spreading a soft fragrance in the fresh air. Under the gentle breeze, the subtle scent of the flowers filled the atmosphere, creating an almost idyllic, soothing scene, as if nature itself was whispering that everything would be alright.

Since moving into this new neighborhood, you had established a little routine. Every evening, you would climb up to the roof of your building, which you had carefully set up as a real sanctuary. A place where you would retreat with your beer cans, your music, your phone, and of course, your journal. It was your space of peace, a place where you could jot down your thoughts on paper without worrying about the rest of the world. Yet lately, one name kept appearing in your writings: Jungkook.

Ever since your kiss two weeks ago, you hadn’t been able to forget him. His lips against yours, that burning and fleeting contact, that moment suspended in time. But after that gesture, there had been nothing. No call, no message, nothing. Why did he kiss you that night? And why the silence since? These questions kept swirling in your mind. Every day, you secretly hoped he would show up at your door, unexpectedly, like in those silly romantic movies where the hero comes to confess his feelings. But things like that never happen in real life, do they?

A sigh escaped your lips. You were surprised at yourself for being so frustrated by his silence. After all, he was nothing to you, just a stranger you had met under unexpected circumstances. Yet the thought that he might be ignoring that shared moment drove you crazy. He could have at least been mature and clarified things. But no. He had chosen to disappear into the shadows, leaving you with doubts and questions.

“If he prefers to play childish games and avoid reality, that’s his problem,” you told yourself, scribbling mindlessly in your journal. After all, you had no intention of chasing after him. You had your pride, and if he couldn’t see the value in what you had shared, then too bad for him.

The evening seemed to be following the same course as the previous ones. You, on the roof, pen in hand, lost in your thoughts, letting the music soothe you. Then something caught your attention. Down below, a familiar car pulled up: Jungkook’s black Mercedes Benz. Normally, that kind of detail wouldn’t have stood out to you. But tonight, he wasn’t alone.

A woman got out of the passenger side. You couldn’t immediately make out her face, but her fiery red hair immediately caught your eye. It framed a delicate face that you could only partially see from this distance. She was tall, slender, almost as tall as Jungkook, whereas you were much smaller in comparison. Her graceful silhouette and elegant clothes set her apart from the other women in the neighborhood. She had that sophisticated look, almost out of place in this modest part of the city, like a bright star in a sky too dull for her.

Your heart clenched slightly. Who was she? You got lost in endless speculations. Had they been together for a long time? Why had you never seen her before? As you watched them, they quickly passed through Jungkook’s apartment door, out of your direct line of sight. But you could see them through the windows, in the living room. As soon as they entered, the redhead threw herself on him, her actions leaving no room for doubt. It was clear they hadn’t met up to talk over coffee.

Meanwhile, Jungkook felt trapped. He didn’t really know this girl, Sony. They had met during a university outing organized by their graphic design professor just a week ago. Although he found her attractive, she was nothing more than a distraction. A distraction from you.

Ever since that kiss you shared, you had haunted him. Day and night. Whether he was in class, training, or even during his morning jogs, you were always there, present in his mind. That simple thought drove him insane. He tried to escape you, to erase you from his memory, but nothing worked. Every memory of your time together replayed over and over, like a poison he couldn’t expel. Even in his dreams, you were there. He dreamed of that kiss, of that unfinished passion, but in his dreams, things went much further. What you hadn’t completed that night, his mind kept prolonging, imagining you in embraces neither of you had dared to share. And every morning, the frustration only grew.

He had promised himself not to give in, not to succumb to the insidious desire to see you again. But he failed, a little more every day. That night, when he came home after your kiss, he cursed himself for ending that magical moment. But deep down, he knew it was the right thing to do. You weren’t in a clear state of mind, and he didn’t want to take advantage of the situation. Still, that rational decision only fueled the fire burning inside him. He wanted you. You were the only remedy for his unease, the only person who could soothe him. But that was precisely why he forbade himself from giving in to you.

Sony was just an escape. A desperate attempt to flee from the obsession he had for you. But as she pressed against him, her lips seeking his, his mind kept drifting back to you. It was you he wanted. Not her. You, with your smiles, your strength, and your vulnerabilities. And he couldn’t do anything about it.

Meanwhile, from your perch, you watched the scene, helpless. A dull pain filled your heart as you observed Jungkook with this other woman. Every gesture, every caress exchanged between them felt like a dagger. Why did it affect you so much? You were nothing to each other, and yet, you felt betrayed, as if something precious had been taken from you.

But soon, you found yourself feeling a certain smug satisfaction. When the redhead, visibly frustrated, slapped Jungkook, you couldn’t help but laugh. Whatever he had done, he deserved it. And in a way, it eased your pain. Seeing him in this situation gave you a strange sense of revenge, even if you had no right to feel that way.

The door to Jungkook’s apartment slammed shut behind Sony, echoing through the quiet street. She stormed out, visibly furious. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she quickly walked away, head held high, but her movements betrayed a palpable frustration. Her lips were tightly pressed, her piercing gaze fixed straight ahead—everything about her screamed that she considered the evening a waste of time. A ruined night, no doubt.

You, still perched on the rooftop of your building, couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scene. Your eyes followed Sony until she disappeared around the corner. Something inside you burned with curiosity. Why had she slapped him so hard? What could have possibly happened between them to trigger such a reaction? But you knew all too well that it was a question without an answer, a mystery you would probably never solve.

Your gaze then shifted back to Jungkook, still visibly stunned. He was quickly getting dressed, as if trying to erase any trace of what had just happened. His movements were swift, almost mechanical, but his face displayed a confused expression. Seeing him like this evoked contradictory feelings in you. You were amused, but also troubled by not understanding what had really taken place.

You watched him closely as he opened the window, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. A familiar gesture, almost routine. He took one out, lit it with a sharp flick, and inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs. The cigarette, despite its obvious dangers, seemed to be his refuge, his way of releasing the pressure, especially after days like this. You could almost see the tension leaving his body with every puff.

Then, just like every evening, his gaze fell on you. He wasn’t really surprised to see you there, in your usual spot, sitting on the rooftop railing, headphones in your ears, one hand holding your phone to capture the sunset. It had become a sort of ritual between the two of you, even if neither of you acknowledged it. Every evening, you were there, faithful to your routine, immortalizing the same moment, at the same time, as if that precise moment held a significance only you could understand.

Every time he saw you like that, a wave of questions washed over him. Why this obsession with sunsets? What are you trying to capture with such devotion? And most of all, what do you write in that notebook that you never leave behind? But tonight, he noticed something different. Unlike usual, your focus wasn’t on the scenery or your journal. Your eyes were locked on him.

You had seen him notice you, but instead of looking away, you burst out laughing. An uncontrollable, almost hysterical laugh that echoed in the stillness of the evening. The scene you had just witnessed—Sony slapping him and storming out of his apartment—kept replaying in your mind, making you laugh again. Every attempt to catch your breath failed, and your laughter started up once more. And now that he was watching you from his window, it only made the situation even more hilarious.

Jungkook, a bit perplexed by your reaction, pulled his phone from the back pocket of his pants. Without thinking, he searched for your name in his contacts and pressed “Call.” When you saw the name “Quasimodo” flash on your screen—a nickname you had given him in a moment of mockery—you couldn’t help but smile even wider.

You answered the call, your laughter barely subsiding.

“So, you’re spying on me now, princess?” Jungkook teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, his voice laced with mischief.

“So, you’re a bad lay?” you shot back, playing along, bursting into laughter.

Jungkook grinned, trying to defend his ego. “More like I was too good for her.”

“Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep tonight, champ,” you retorted, laughing again, the image of the slap playing on repeat in your mind.

He didn’t reply right away, just watching you with an amused glint in his eyes, listening to the sound of your laughter—a melody that, despite himself, got to him. That laugh, he thought, made you even more beautiful. The more he watched you, the more captivated he felt by your charm, a feeling he would have preferred to avoid. But soon, your laughter faded, leaving a more serious expression on your face, a veil of irony making you furrow your brows.

“Nice to see you haven’t lost your phone or my number,” you quipped, catching your breath.

“What, you’re saying you missed me?” he replied, his mocking tone poorly masking a deeper interest.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Quasimodo, but that’s not the case.” A lie, of course. You simply couldn’t afford to tell him the truth. Not to him, not now. That would be insane.

In your mind, Jungkook was still just like any other man. He probably saw women as fleeting distractions, temporary conquests to satisfy his desires. His date with the redhead earlier in the evening only confirmed that theory. You were determined not to become just another passing chapter in his life. You refused to be just another girl he’d use and then forget as soon as she was gone.

Anger bubbled inside you, a burning fire behind your calm exterior. You clenched your fists, rekindling an inner resolve. There was no way you’d let yourself be trapped by his devastating charm, as tempting as it was. You were worth more than that. You kept repeating it to yourself, as if trying to convince yourself. No matter the temptation or confusion, you refused to lose control. Your heart was at stake, and you weren’t ready to let it fall into his hands.

“You’re the one lying to yourself, gorgeous,” he said teasingly. “I’m sure you can’t stop thinking about our kiss.” His words were like a blade, stirring up a truth you weren’t ready to face.

“Don’t worry, babe, I have that effect on women all the time.” His tone was arrogant, almost proud of that confession. Bastard. He was proud of it?

Your blood boiled. His words were enough to make you lose your cool. You slammed your journal and printer onto the railing with a sharp motion, standing up to your full height. He knew exactly how to push your buttons and get under your skin.

“I don’t even know why I’m wasting my time with you,” you spat before hanging up on him.

In ten minutes, Jungkook had just been rejected by two women.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered under his breath, still holding the phone in his hand. A part of him wanted to dial your number again, to call you back and try to clear things up. But he knew you wouldn’t pick up. Making excuses wouldn’t fix anything, and deep down, he knew that.

After all, what was the point? He didn’t owe anyone an explanation. Certainly not to you. Yet, despite himself, you occupied his thoughts in an obsessive way. Even from a distance, without realizing it, you were taking over his mind. He had to get you out of there. It wasn’t an option anymore—it was a necessity. Jungkook had never imagined that the only way to forget you would be to lose himself in the arms of other women. It was a path he hadn’t thought he’d explore so easily.

Despite his bad-boy image, Jungkook wasn’t really that kind of guy. The idea of spending every night with one-night stands didn’t appeal to him, but these past few days, he couldn’t see any other solution. Where else could he find what he was looking for if not at the Den? A place where emotions drowned in alcohol, sweat, and fleeting pleasures.

He shook his head. He wasn’t going to let the night get to him. Without wasting any more time, Jungkook headed for the shower. Cold water slid over his skin, washing away the heat of his accumulated frustration. Once ready, he threw on dark jeans and an open shirt over a t-shirt before leaving his apartment.

Tonight, he’d go back to where everything seemed simpler. Where he could lose himself and, with a bit of luck, forget you for a few hours. He headed for the Den, the only place in the neighborhood that mixed illegality with a brutal, almost liberating freedom. And at this hour, he knew you probably wouldn’t be there, which made things easier.

​

A few hours had passed, and it seemed you had the same idea as your neighbor across the street: to clear your mind. It had been about thirty minutes since you arrived at the Den’s bar, a drink in hand, as if holding onto that glass could help you push away the turmoil stirring inside you.

You had come here with one goal in mind: to erase from your memory the scene that kept playing over and over, consuming you from the inside. The only way to do that was to bury it under layers of forgetfulness, even if only temporary. The noisy atmosphere of the bar was perhaps exactly what you needed.

During your work hours at the Den, you had noticed that, on nights without fights, the place turned into a sort of makeshift nightclub. The fighting cage was disassembled and stored away, leaving more room for dancers, and the bar quickly filled up. Tonight was one of those nights.

You weren’t working tonight. You had earned two well-deserved days off, but that didn’t stop you from lending a hand to your coworkers when the bar got overcrowded. It wasn’t a chore for you; in fact, you could take advantage of it to refill your own drink.

Besides Minjun, Sohan, and Jungkook, you didn’t know anyone else in this neighborhood. Yet, despite your short time at this place, Minjun and Sohan had become protective of you. It was reassuring, almost comforting, as if you had finally found the big brothers you never had. For the first time, you were experiencing what it felt like to have people who genuinely cared about you.

“Don’t wander off too far,” Sohan called out as you left the bar to blend into the crowd of dancers.

“We want to keep an eye on you. There are plenty of crazies here,” Minjun added. “And always watch your drink!” he shouted over the noise of the music.

In response, you flashed them a smile and gave them a thumbs-up. Then, the melody of “Bumpy Ride” by Mohombi filled the room, taking you back to a time when everything was simpler, lighter.

You remembered those afternoons in high school when, even though you didn’t like sports, you found refuge in dance, a passion that had been born during your stay at the orphanage. Dancing had always set you free, and tonight, you let yourself be carried away by the music.

Ignoring your coworkers’ advice, you made your way to the speakers, letting the bass thrum through your body. Nostalgia mixed with excitement as memories of a school dance competition, won to the sound of this very song, resurfaced.

Meanwhile, Minjun was watching the crowd intently, looking for you. Unsurprisingly, you hadn’t followed his recommendations. He wasn’t even surprised.

“Jungkook, man. What are you doing here?” Sohan was the first to notice your neighbor, sitting at his usual spot at the bar.

“I need to clear my head,” Jungkook replied, not inclined to give details.

“Tough day?” Minjun asked, joining the conversation now that the line had thinned out.

“You could say that,” Jungkook answered in a weary tone.

“So, what’ll it be?” Sohan asked, ready to serve his regular customer.

“The usual.” Jungkook was counting on a glass of whiskey to try and push you out of his mind, or at least to gather the courage to face a night that wouldn’t end alone.

“Coming right up.” Sohan started preparing Jungkook’s drink while Minjun scanned the crowd, searching for you.

“You good, man?” Jungkook asked, noticing Minjun’s concern.

“No, she’s acting up again,” Minjun muttered, more to himself than to his friend, but nothing escaped Jungkook.

“Who are you talking about?” Sohan inquired, setting Jungkook’s drink in front of him.

“She didn’t listen to us, man. As usual, she’s doing whatever she wants,” Minjun sighed.

Jungkook frowned, confused. Who were they talking about? Minjun would never let his sisters come to a place like the Den, and as far as Jungkook knew, there was no other woman in his life. So who could it be?

Sohan spotted something in the crowd and muttered, “Damn it… Don’t move, I’ll go get her.” Then he disappeared into the crowd.

Jungkook, still curious, didn’t wait any longer. “Who are you talking about?” he finally asked Minjun.

He wasn’t expecting the answer he received: your name. The very person he had hoped to forget for the night had reappeared, inevitably.

You were everywhere, even in the place where he had hoped to escape you.

You kept dancing, letting the music pulse through your entire body. The DJ that night was doing an incredible job, mixing recent hits with 2000s classics that got everyone moving. Rihanna, Beyoncé, Cascada, The Black Eyed Peas, The Pussycat Dolls… each track seemed better than the last, and you let yourself completely lose yourself in the rhythm.

You had even found a dance partner. Not that it was a particularly enlightened or well-thought-out decision, but you only knew him from the fights. After all, you came here to clear your head, and if the night ended in a one-night stand, why not with him? Maybe that would finally help you get Jungkook out of your thoughts.

Your dance partner was none other than Shin Jung-Ho, aka “Bazooka,” Jungkook’s sworn rival, aka “Bullet Fists.” And honestly, the guy wasn’t unpleasant to look at. Jung-Ho stood at 1.78 meters, and his imposing build immediately drew attention. His body, sculpted by years of physical training, spoke of his strength and toughness. His pale skin contrasted with his jet-black hair, cut short, and his dark eyes, almost hypnotic. But what caught your eye the most was the linear scar running across his left eye, a remnant of a past battle… and not just any battle. It came from a fight against Jungkook. The irony wasn’t lost on you.

“So, how about we get out of here? My place is just around the corner,” Jung-Ho murmured, his face dangerously close to yours. His lips were on the verge of finding yours, and you were ready to let the kiss happen, maybe just to defy yourself.

You nodded, ready to follow his invitation, but the moment was short-lived. Out of nowhere, Sohan appeared through the crowd, visibly furious. He shoved Jung-Ho away from you before grabbing your hand tightly, positioning himself between the two of you like a shield.

“She’s not going anywhere with you,” he growled, his dark gaze locked on Jung-Ho. You had never seen Sohan in such a state, not even with the worst customers at the bar.

Jung-Ho smirked, taunting. “That’s not for you to decide, buddy. She seemed pretty on board with me, right, babe?” He looked at you, waiting for your confirmation.

“Yeah,” you replied almost mechanically, which only made Jung-Ho smile wider.

Sohan’s grip on your hand tightened, almost to the point of hurting. “Shut up, YN,” he said coldly, his voice barely restrained.

You were on the verge of protesting, shocked by the way he spoke to you, but he cut you off with a look so intense it immediately dissuaded you from arguing. Then he turned his attention back to Jung-Ho.

“Listen to me, man,” Sohan said, emphasizing each word. “You’re not getting near her again, got it?”

Without waiting for a response, Sohan turned around, dragging you behind him through the crowd, his hand still firmly gripping yours, leaving you no chance to protest or look back.

You were furious, perplexed, and slightly amused by how things had unfolded. Sohan, usually so calm and protective, had just shown a side of himself you had never seen before. The walk back to the bar felt endless, and while your hand remained firmly held in his, you couldn’t help but wonder what had triggered such a reaction in him.

Sohan dragged you firmly to the bar, where Minjun and Jungkook were deep in conversation, Jungkook’s gaze dark and intense. You hadn’t even noticed Jungkook’s presence, too focused on Sohan’s grip and your own frustration at being pulled along like a misbehaving child.

Once at the counter, Sohan practically forced you to sit on one of the tall chairs, right next to Jungkook. The cold touch of the wood against your bare skin made you shiver, and it was only then that you noticed your neighbor, sitting right beside you. His gaze was intense, fixed on you, but he said nothing. Yet, you could feel the palpable tension in the air.

Before you could protest, Sohan stood in front of you, arms crossed, looking furious.

“What the hell were you thinking, YN?” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Dancing with Jung-Ho? And worse, you were ready to leave with him! Have you lost your mind?”

Minjun, who had turned toward you after hearing those words, also frowned. “Wait, what?” Minjun was shocked to hear what his friend just said. And like him, he wasn’t pleased at all. He knew very well that, like the rest of them, you were aware of the type of man Jung-Ho was. Since you’d been working at the Den, you had witnessed firsthand the harm he caused with women on numerous occasions.

“Sohan’s right, YN. Jung-Ho is not someone you should be hanging out with, let alone going anywhere with. You know exactly what kind of guy he is. That was stupid, really.”

Minjun’s scolding tone, combined with Sohan’s exasperation, made you feel like a child being chastised. Shame washed over you for a moment, but it didn’t seem fair. You were perfectly capable of making your own decisions, whether good or bad.

But what surprised you the most was Jungkook’s reaction. He remained silent, but you could almost see his fists clenching, his jaw tightening. Something in his demeanor had shifted. He said nothing, but his silence was deafening, and his gaze, more piercing than ever, seemed to betray something deeper: jealousy.

Before you could respond, a deep, arrogant voice sounded behind you.

“Oh, I see you’re getting scolded like a little kid, YN,” Jung-Ho said as he approached the bar, a smug grin on his lips. He spoke directly to you, ignoring the others. “You’re really going to let them control you like that? It’s your life, right? If you wanted to leave with me, that was your choice. No need for a bunch of wannabe big brothers to tell you what to do.”

Jung-Ho’s provocative tone instantly put everyone on edge. Sohan stood up straighter, ready to respond, but before he could open his mouth, it was Jungkook who suddenly rose from his seat, his dark eyes burning with cold anger.

“I think you’ve misunderstood something, Jung-Ho,” Jungkook said in a dangerously low voice. “YN doesn’t need your advice. She knows exactly what’s good for her, and leaving with a jerk like you isn’t part of it.”

Jung-Ho chuckled, unphased by the threat. He took a step closer, locking eyes with Jungkook.

“Oh really, Jungkook? Because all I see is a guy who can’t even admit he’s dying of jealousy. Stop pretending—it’s not about her, it’s about you.”

That was the last straw for Jungkook. In a split second, his fist flew toward Jung-Ho, landing a controlled but violent punch to his jaw. The room seemed to freeze for a moment before Jung-Ho retaliated, shoving Jungkook backward and throwing a punch of his own.

The fight erupted in brutal force. The two men exchanged blows with palpable precision and rage, forcing the customers around them to step back. The bar quickly turned into a battleground.

Sohan and Minjun tried to intervene, but the strength and speed of both fighters made it difficult to break up the fight. Jung-Ho, clearly drunk on rage, wasn’t ready to back down. But Jungkook, fueled by a jealousy he refused to admit, fought with cold determination, his entire body tense with every movement.

“Stop!” you screamed, your voice lost in the chaos of the brawl. But neither Jungkook nor Jung-Ho seemed to hear you, too focused on their relentless struggle.

As Jung-Ho tried to pin Jungkook against the counter, Jungkook broke free with surprising agility, delivering a powerful punch to Jung-Ho’s gut. Jung-Ho collapsed momentarily from the blow, struggling to catch his breath.

Before things could escalate further, Sohan and Minjun managed to separate the two men, holding Jungkook back while Jung-Ho, still winded, tried to regain his composure.

Silence finally fell over the bar, and all eyes turned to you. Jungkook, breathing heavily, looked at you, his eyes still blazing with anger. A silent question seemed to hang in the air: “Why him?”

As for Jung-Ho, his smug smile had vanished, replaced by a grimace of pain and frustration.

The tension was thick, and you knew what had just happened would have consequences.

The Den’s security guards, alerted by the growing noise of the fight, quickly approached. Two of them grabbed Jung-Ho, still groggy from Jungkook’s last punch, and dragged him roughly out of the bar. Jung-Ho, though clearly still in shock, tried to struggle, throwing one last dark glance in Jungkook’s direction before disappearing into the agitated crowd.

“Alright, calm down now,” Sohan growled, stepping between you and Jungkook, while Minjun approached, trying to contain the palpable tension in the air. “YN, we agreed you’d keep a low profile tonight. What the hell were you thinking, dancing with that idiot?”

You threw your hands up in frustration, nerves on edge. “Stop telling me what to do, Sohan! I don’t need to be treated like a kid. If I want to dance with whoever I want, it’s my choice.”

Sohan frowned, but before he could reply, it was Jungkook who cut in, his voice sharp.

“Dancing with him?” he spat. “You were this close to leaving with that guy, YN. Do you even realize how stupid that was? Or are you just blind?”

You turned toward him, your eyes blazing. “So what? Why do you even care, Jungkook? Since when do you give a damn about what I do or who I leave with?”

“Since you can’t seem to see the real assholes in front of you,” Jungkook shot back, raising his voice, stepping closer to you, his fists still clenched. “Jung-Ho is trash. He doesn’t respect you. You’re just a game to him, YN. And it makes me sick that you don’t even see it.”

Jungkook’s words were filled with jealousy, and something inside you flared even hotter.

“Oh, and you’re any better?” you retorted, your voice vibrating with anger. “You show up here after bringing that redhead to your place, and now you come here to lecture me?”

Jungkook flinched at the mention of the previous night, but he didn’t respond right away. You continued, your eyes glistening with rage.

“You’re no different from Jung-Ho. You both play with women, treat them like toys. So stop being a hypocrite—it’s pathetic!”

Minjun tried to step between you, raising his hands to de-escalate the situation. “Okay, enough, stop. We don’t need this here. Let’s all take a step back, calm down…”

“No,” Jungkook cut him off sharply, his gaze still locked on you. “She doesn’t get it. She thinks I’m like them? She thinks all of this is just a game for me?”

“Maybe because you never show anything!” you shouted, your voice breaking with emotion. “You kiss me, leave me with all these questions, and then nothing! Nothing! And now you come here and tell me what to do? Are you kidding me?”

Sohan, sensing the situation spiraling out of control, placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. “Bro, let it go, this is gonna get ugly…”

But it was too late. Jungkook’s frustration was overflowing, his eyes burning with something deeper than simple anger.

“You want to know why I’m like this, YN?” he ground out through clenched teeth, his voice low, almost a growl. “You really want to know? Because you drive me insane.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could say another word, Jungkook closed the distance between you in a split second. His hands gripped your face tightly, and before you could process what was happening, his lips crashed into yours in a brutal kiss, filled with passion, frustration, and a kind of desperate intensity.

The shock left you frozen for a moment, but soon, you felt that familiar warmth, that fire that consumed you both. His lips were hard against yours, his hands still firmly on your face, as if he feared you’d slip away. Every movement of his mouth against yours was laced with urgency, anger, and an uncontrollable desire.

Minjun and Sohan exchanged bewildered glances, but neither of them dared intervene this time. The tension between you and Jungkook had reached a breaking point.

When Jungkook finally pulled his lips from yours, he stayed just inches away, his breath ragged, his eyes still blazing with that intensity you had never seen in him before.

Stunned by the sudden kiss, you remained motionless, your thoughts swirling in a silent chaos. The world around you seemed to have stopped, the intensity of the moment rooting you in place. You could still feel the pressure of his lips on yours—brutal and desperate. But it was the shocked looks of Sohan and Minjun, frozen in surprise, that brought you back to reality. The burn of embarrassment rose within you, mixing with a fury that made your heart pound in your chest.

Without thinking, your hand flew up and slapped Jungkook across the face in an instinctive reaction. The sound of the slap echoed in the tense air of the Den.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, Jungkook!” you shouted, your voice trembling with anger and confusion. Without giving him a chance to respond, you spun around and stormed toward the exit, your footsteps pounding the floor as you fled the scene.

The cool night air wrapped around you immediately, but it did little to extinguish the fire burning inside you. Breathing hard, you walked quickly, your mind swirling with humiliation, confusion, and the strange feeling left behind by that stolen kiss.

“YN, wait!” Jungkook’s voice chased after you in the night, his hurried footsteps echoing behind you.

You quickened your pace, but he caught up to you quickly, grabbing your arm to stop you. You yanked your arm free from his grip, your eyes blazing with anger as they met his.

“Let go of me, Jungkook!” you hissed, breathless. “You think you can just get away with that? After everything that happened tonight?”

Jungkook, still panting from the chase, shook his head, his expression a mix of frustration and regret. “YN, that’s not… I didn’t think… but you don’t understand! You drive me crazy!”

“Crazy? I drive you crazy?” you shot back, your anger flaring up again. “And that gives you the right to kiss me like you own me? Who do you think you are?”

The empty street was the silent witness to this confrontation, the night wind gently rustling the leaves of the trees as your voices echoed in the air.

“No, it’s not that,” he tried to explain, his eyes searching yours. “You don’t understand, YN. I’m on the verge of losing it. Knowing you danced with Jung-Ho, knowing you even considered leaving with him… You have no idea what that does to me.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about now?” you spat bitterly. “You think you have some claim over me? You think you can tell me who I can or can’t dance with? Look at yourself! You bring girls home and then come here to tell me what I should do? What a joke, Jungkook. You’re pathetic.”

His jaw clenched at the provocation, but he remained silent for a moment, clearly trying to control the storm raging inside him. “Okay, correction, it wasn’t ‘girls,’ just the redhead,” he tried to justify, but for you, it was just a detail. Deep down, it didn’t change anything. “And it’s not the same, YN. I know I screwed up, but what I feel for you… what I feel is real.”

Your gaze hardened. “Oh yeah? Because what you feel is ‘real,’ I should forgive you, is that it? Jungkook, you have no idea what you want. One minute you kiss me, the next you ignore me. You leave me hanging, trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do or feel. You’re playing with me, and I’ve had enough.”

Silence fell between you, broken only by your quickened breaths. Jungkook seemed like he wanted to say something, but his words got lost in the flood of emotions boiling inside him.

“YN, I… I know I’ve complicated everything. But I… I don’t want to lose you, without ever even having had you,” he finally murmured, his voice broken.

You shook your head, your heart heavy with confusion. “And yet, that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

Turning on your heel, you started walking toward your apartments, Jungkook trailing behind you. The dark night felt oppressive, and despite the calm outside, the emotional storm raging within you was overwhelming.

“What do you want me to do, YN? Let you leave with a guy like Jung-Ho? Pretend I don’t care about you, despite myself and all my efforts?” he exclaimed, a hint of desperation in his voice.

“What I want, Jungkook, is for you to stop playing this back-and-forth game. If you want something, be clear. But don’t do this to me. Don’t kiss me just to prove something to yourself, and don’t act like I’m just another option in your life.”

He stopped, realizing the gravity of your words, the weight of what you were saying. And suddenly, in the silence of the street, it was as if the world around you both was collapsing.

You gave him one last look, your heart heavy. “You can’t do this to me, Jungkook. Not again.”

Then, without another word, you turned the corner and walked away, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts, his gaze lost in the starry night.

Jungkook stands frozen, rooted to the spot as you turn the corner, disappearing into the night. His fists clench, and his mind races, battling both the frustration and the weight of his own mistakes. He wanted to run after you, to catch up with you, but he felt like his words would only make things worse.

He remains there, silent, while the echo of your last words still rings in his head. “You can’t do this to me, Jungkook. Not again.” A wave of guilt washes over him. He finally realizes just how much he’s been playing with your emotions without truly understanding it.

Despite his urge to follow you once more, he takes a deep breath, replaying every detail of the night. His thoughts are loud, confused, but one thing is clear: he never wanted to hurt you like this. Not you. Not the only person who seems capable of making him feel this way.

Meanwhile, you keep walking, tears silently streaming down your cheeks. The weight of everything you’ve just experienced overwhelms you, and you try to convince yourself that walking away is the best thing to do. Your footsteps echo in the empty street, and even though you’re walking quickly, each step feels like it’s bringing you closer to the edge of breaking down.

You can’t stop thinking about what just happened. That kiss, as brutal and passionate as it was, caught you off guard. You had felt that same fire between you two, but this time, it was different. This time, there was something deeper behind that gesture. Frustration, jealousy, but also… love, or at least something close to it.

Suddenly, you stop dead in your tracks in the middle of the street. Part of you wants to run, but the other part begs you not to give up hope. You turn around, scanning the street behind you. Jungkook is no longer there. Your heart sinks at the realization, but a part of you feels relieved.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your frantic heartbeat. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe you’re just too different, that this burning desire that consumes you both will end up destroying everything.

As you slowly head toward home, the sound of hurried footsteps behind you makes you jump. You turn around, and there he is. Jungkook. He’s standing there, breathless, as if he ran to catch up with you. His hair is disheveled, his clothes wrinkled, but that same intensity still burns in his eyes.

“YN…” he begins, his voice hoarse with fatigue and emotion. “I… I can’t let you go like this. Not again.”

You remain still, torn between wanting to scream at him and wanting to listen, to understand what he truly feels. But your lips stay sealed, your heart pounding harder with every word he speaks.

For a moment, you saw him running toward you, as if the devil himself were chasing him. And the next, you were hit full force by his gesture, even more confused than you already were. Before you could react, you found yourself in his arms again, his mouth pressed against yours, desperately trying to draw a response from you. For a moment, you stood frozen, in shock. Then, despite yourself, you responded. A brief instant where everything around you collapsed, and you finally understood the true meaning of the phrase “The flesh is weak.” Yours was no exception.

It had been two weeks since you last heard from him. Two weeks of growing frustration, of pent-up desire. And in the span of a few minutes, your lips found each other again, in a kiss that was both passionate and desperate. But beneath that passion, there was a simmering anger, a palpable tension between the two of you.

Your emotions, though distinct, reflected each other strangely. Jungkook was furious. Furious with you, for your lack of judgment, for your lack of self-respect. How could you even consider leaving with someone like Jung-Ho? Anyone with half a brain could see how toxic that man was. And you knew that. You weren’t stupid. So why had you even entertained the idea of sleeping with him? But his frustration was also aimed at himself. He had sworn to stay away from you, not to get caught up in this whirlwind of emotions. And yet, here he was, chasing after you again, unable to let you go.

As for you, your anger was boiling over. How dare he, after ignoring you for days, act like some jealous, possessive man? How could he treat you like that, in front of your friends, at your workplace, when he had been avoiding you like the plague just days earlier? He had no right over you, over your actions, over your choices. Yes, you had made a mistake in choosing Jung-Ho as a distraction, but you just wanted to free yourself from the hold Jungkook had on you. And you were willing to do anything to make that happen.

But what was eating away at you even more was yourself. How could you be so weak? How could you give in to his kiss, not once, but twice, after everything he had put you through? You had promised yourself you wouldn’t become just another conquest in his long list. And yet, here you were, doing exactly what you swore you’d never do. Were you a masochist, or just desperate?

Finally, in a moment of clarity, you did the only thing that seemed logical. You abruptly broke the kiss. Without a word, you raised your hand and slapped him hard, feeling the heat of the impact on your palm. Then, without looking back, you turned on your heel and fled. Fled straight to your home, where you hoped to escape the emotional storm threatening to engulf you. ​

Next ⇢

n/a: I hope you enjoy this short story as much as I do. To ensure you don’t miss the progress of the chapters and their release, don’t forget to check out the Working on and Updates section. There, you’ll find updates on “Fighter” and other stories and “One Shot” that you’ll probably enjoy. Also, don’t forget to check out the Masterlist. You’ll probably find something for you among my other stories in progress and those to come.

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Taglist : @variety-is-the-joy-of-life ; @ttanniett

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© Jeon_s_Sins

[kazz-brekker]

hotd episode 6 thoughts

boy oh boy this episode was so full of many delicious character moments, i feel very well fed

aemond really was in his best goth villain era tonight, honestly good for him!

i have never seen tyland lannister look more uncomfortable than he did with aemond looming over him lmao

i enjoyed the scene where aemond is firing alicent from the council while also simultaneously holding her hand in place so she'll keep touching his face…tasty tasty family issues

loved that song that the dragonkeepers were singing while summoning seasmoke, it was a very cool detail

also, it was really fun seeing seasmoke again, especially since he's grown bigger since we last saw laenor riding him

man, aegon and rhaenyra really need to put out an ad in the paper for new members of the kingsguard and the queensguard, those guys are dropping like flies

ever since daemon's visions at harrenhal started i really hoped that we would get to see viserys since so many of daemon's issues stem from being cast aside as heir by his brother so i'm SO pleased we got those scenes, it was a present Just For Me

daemon bro stop threatening simon strong he's a nice old man who's done literally nothing bad to you

greatly enjoying this dynamic of daemon and his new bestie the weird witch who may or may not be psychologically tormenting him with visions of his past mistakes and issues

genuinely alys is my favorite new character this season, she's so fun and i just adore her scenes

madam sylvi, dyana, and ulf getting together to bitch about the food shortages…the greens better look out the smallfolk are unionizing

i am getting the sense that aemond and madame sylvi had a…less than amicable end to their working relationship

aemond tormenting aegon in his sickbed really made me go c'mon dude haven't you made him suffer enough, leave him ALONE!

from rhaena's scenes in the vale it appears that they've cut the character of nettles and give rhaena her storyline instead. not sure how i feel about this…i'm all for rhaena getting more to do but nettles is also an interesting character in her own right

knowing alyn and addam's parentage going into the show i suspected that alyn shaves his head because he inherited the velaryon white hair and i was pleased to see i was right

baby stormcloud is so cute! but holy shit my the pit of my stomach really dropped when jeyne arryn mentioned the ship the gay abandon. my fellow book readers, i am full of dread!

i really liked the scene between gwayne and alicent, since he wasn't in the first season it's interesting to see how their relationship with each other and otto has been affected by that huge distance

i kind of miss otto, i hope he comes back by the end of the season

daeron mention! facts about daeron! a personality! never thought i'd see the day!

one of my favorite hobbies is being emo about scenes of alicent physically putting herself between her children and physical harm so i liked her and helaena fleeing from the riot together

that scene with larys and aegon was sooooooo interesting, there's definitely some manipulation/attempts to curry favor coming from larys, but i also hadn't considered that he might now feel some genuine solidarity with aegon after his injuries and can speak frankly about his disability and offer advice

i have been waiting since daemon got to harrenhal and began being tormented for him to have a breakdown and start crying so i was quite pleased when that happened :)

knowing that seasmoke is chasing after addam because he wants him to be his rider made that whole sequence really funny to me

i have often blogged about how daemon and rhaenyra each have what the other one wants (freedom and patriarchal status vs. viserys's love and position as his heir) so it was super fun for me to hear rhaenyra actually verbalize that

i have been super into queer readings of this show since the beginning and all season whenever rhaenyra and mysaria interact i've been like "hmm…are they flirting…" but i truly did not expect them to actually kiss. rhaenyra targaryen canonically queer! on my tv screen! never thought i would see the day!

crazy to think that we only have 2 episodes of this season left after this, can't wait to see what unhinged drama still awaits us

[hellfire--cult]

Request:

i’d love a sequel where there’s a bit of a “day in the life” with the new happy family, or maybe like some vignettes of them getting settled in and making their new home their own? i would literally love any more content in this universe but there’s my ideas in the hat! 🤍

-

Your wish is my command 💚

Hook!Eddie x Fem!Reader

wc 3.5K

Read the main story here. 🌟

Summary: This is what happens after everyone starts living in the home. A recap of everything that's happened until we reach the present.

You can always support your writers by hitting THE REBLOG button! 💚

You can always send requests for this beautiful couple! My ask is open!

Hooked on You: After Story

Life after was something everyone had to get used to.

The boys had to be given names, full names, and thankfully Nancy who has some contacts in the newspaper industry pulled some strings for your “orphaned” family.

You didn’t give specifics, but told her that you started dating a man who was struggling to keep his family afloat. They had no records since they were living anywhere they could, and he just picked the kids up like strays. He and his best friend took care of the kids, and that it was a coincidence in meeting when you hired a ‘cleaning service’. 

But it wasn’t just any name. 

When you showed up with a big smile to your face at dinner, while everyone was enjoying themselves with the food, you had grasped in your hands the adoption papers for each boy in the group. 

Through tears, and smiles, they had hugged you one by one, appreciating your kindness but overall, calling you a different name. 

Mom.

Eddie, whose last name he chose was Munson, was stunned when he asked if they were going to call him Dad and each boy grimaced at that outcome, shaking their heads. After that Eddie had played a game of chase with the children, playing as the big bad bear, with his hands above his head, reaching for the boys.

That was another change.

“So, this is a– what?” 

“Prosthetic. It’s not normal to have a hook as a second hand here, and this has motor sensors, so you can basically have another hand!” You had explained to him, and he was stunned at the realization that he could have his left hand back. But sometimes, he discards the prosthetic, and goes back to his hook because he feels complete with it, that’s what he had told you.

Steve, now Steve Harrington, had acquired the second mom title. Whenever you were gone, or busy, or simply tired, he took care of the boys, played with them, and helped them clean the house. 

It was summer time, but you knew you will have to enroll the kids into school soon, but you had to teach them basic things, such as the ABC, numbers, some math, a little bit of history and biology, and Eddie and Steve listened intently, giving their own teachings here and there. 

You didn’t want your boys to go into middle school without knowing at least the basics, because then everything would be too complex, so thankfully, Robin, who is a teacher, happily comes once a week to give her own teaching to the kids. You found out that Steve and her had developed a strong friendship during the two months you all had been living together.

Another thing they discovered was music.

While the kids loved normal pop songs, except for Mike who had taken a liking to punk music, Steve had loved the 80’s vibe, sticking to it, and then some 90’s, but poor Eddie had not found himself in any of those genres. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was that he might like, but it wasn’t any of that. 

You had tried almost everything, latin music, grunge, rock, techno, but he was still not feeling any of those genres. You were in your room when trying everything in his music app on his phone, and you sighed when he, once again, said he didn’t feel anything from it. 

“I really don’t know what else to play Eds…” He grabbed his phone, which you had taught everyone in the house how to use and bought one for each of them, and started scrolling. 

“There was something about that Rock genre that you showed me… Something is there, but not fully?” You frowned in confusion at his words, and you had to think outside the box. You were showing him things you liked, so maybe, you had to show him things that you wouldn’t normally listen to.

“Hang on…” You grabbed his phone again and searched for a particular playlist. You grabbed his headphones from his night table, and urged him to put them on. He was confused, but did so anyways, and you pressed play onto the playlist.

Eddie’s eyes widened at the sudden strum of a guitar, wild, heavy, powerful, chord after chord. You bit your lip as you stared at his face, and by the smile that was spreading on his cheeks you knew that you hit the jackpot. 

He spent an entire day listening to Metallica. Then the next day to Slipknot. Then Guns ‘n Roses. My Chemical Romance. Megadeth. Rammstein.

The man was a metalhead.

After finding their own music, they had to find their own style. The boys almost wore the same things, sometimes jeans, sometimes shorts, sometimes plaid shirts, sometimes stamped shirts, sneakers… Steve had gone for the rich boy vibe, as you called it. He likes polos, dress pants, tight denims, sweaters, maybe a cardigan.

Now Eddie, you were surprised. He liked everything black, ripped, and he loved the sound of chains as an accessory on his hip. When he found out there were shirts of the bands he started to like, he bought a ton of them, some in white, some in black. One thing that stayed authentic of Eddie, was the black bandana, which he sometimes uses on his head still, or he puts it in his back pocket.

But one of your favorite things in the whole day was going into your room, to finally be alone with him. He was always reading a book, and you came to find out that he loved fantasy. It was funny, because he came out of a fairytale himself, but yet he loves those kinds of books. He devoured Tolkien in a week. 

He would always put whatever he was reading down to welcome you into bed, embracing you in his arms, gentle kisses that always turned into heated ones because that’s another thing that happened. He couldn’t keep himself from touching you. 

And you didn’t want him to. The boys at first made gagging noises whenever he came into the kitchen for breakfast and gave you a morning kiss, lingering there more than it should, but they soon got used to it. Whenever he could, he was wrapping an arm around you, pulling you close, kissing your neck, your face, your shoulder, anywhere he saw skin. 

So you had to introduce him to condoms.

He wasn’t a fan of them, but when you remembered you two didn’t use protection in Neverland, he told you to not worry. In Neverland time is completely stopped, as well as your cycle, and that would explain why you didn’t have periods while being there. You were in such a blissful experience that you didn’t even remember about your period.

But in this world, you could get pregnant, and even if you want a kid of your own with Eddie, there was still so much to get used to for him. But still, it didn’t forbid him from touching every single night, wanting to drown himself in you, and you weren’t complaining. He was always up for trying new things, and you both had discovered many together.

You taught Eddie and Steve how to drive, but there wasn’t much for you to teach because as soon as they touched the steering wheel, they immediately got the hang of it, and Eddie even described it as easy as sailing a ship. You couldn’t believe a former pirate said a car feels like a ship. With the prosthetic, driving an automatic is very easy for Eddie. 

The kids love the pool, you bought a slide for it and a lot of floaters for them to swim in. You noticed how maternal you had gotten ever since getting the kids into your life, and it wasn’t something you thought of ever having. Now, you want more, for some reason. You always have to shake that thought out of your head because that would end badly.

Another thing you did, not very recommended in the summer, was getting a tattoo. You had tattooed your grandma’s drawing of Neverland. You knew there was a diary of hers, and she sometimes read the story from her own head, and sometimes from there and showed you the drawing. She explained she could see the island at the top of the clouds, while flying with Peter.

So you outlined it and tattooed it on your wrist. 

When Eddie saw it, he was immediately interested, knowing about tattoos but the tribe were the only people that knew how to do it. You decided to visit the shop once with him, and he got a hook tattoo on his ankle, to test the waters of the pain. After a week, you couldn’t find him anywhere for three hours, sending you into a panic, only for him to return with six more tattoos on his body, with a wide grin on his face.

“It's summer! One is already bad, you got seven!” You had yelled at him, but he just shrugged and grinned down at you.

“I’ll get even more in winter.” 

But summer was ending, as well as the boys started becoming nervous of going to school, which was a private one so they had to use uniforms for it. They complained of course, but you had promised them that the teacher they were having was going to be very patient and that you met the kids' parents of the class already and they all seemed nice and welcoming. 

A week before the start of classes, you decided it was time for a last pool party, and so, you invited Nancy, Jonathan and Robin over, where Robin mentioned she had a long distance friend visiting and she had asked if they could come over with their little sister, to which you agreed. 

So now, you were cutting the vegetables for the salads in your kitchen, as Jonathan helped Will start the fire outside for the BBQ. For some reason, Jonathan had taken particular liking to one of your kids, but that’s good, because Nancy had found herself teaching Mike how to play some chess, and Dustin was already attached to Eddie like a Piranha. 

One of your boys, though, was sitting alone on one of the lawn chairs, looking at nothing in particular, just the ripples of the water happening  on the pool. You put down your knife, ready to go talk to Lucas, but the doorbell rings, making your head snap that way.

“Don’t worry, I got it!” Steve yells as he rushes towards the door, opening it, to see Robin, a smile on his face as they hug tightly.

“Hi there Dingus.” She pulled away from the hug to point behind her back. “My friend is unloading something and he’s right here, okay?” 

“Yeah sure.” Steve turns his head to guide Robin towards the kitchen and garden where everyone is and she immediately bolts away. He hears a clear of throat and his head turns back around, only for his eyes to land on blue ones, knocking the breath out of his lungs in an instant.

“Hi, um… Hope we’re not intruding, it’s just, I’m with my sister and I couldn’t leave her alone.” The blonde man says, looking at Steve with the same hazed look in his eyes. Steve shook his head to come out of the trance he was in and smiled, putting his hand out for a shake.

“No issue at all! The boys will love her. I’m Steve by the way.” The other man smiles, his white teeth showing off as he presses his hand against Steve’s, electricity immediately coursing through their bodies.

“I’m Billy.”

“Are you going to keep flirting or…” A soft voice says from behind him, making Billy let go of Steve’s hand with a groan, a blush appearing on his cheeks as he makes way for the redheaded girl to come forward. “I’m Max.” 

“Oh hi–” Steve felt the presence of someone else next to him, and he turned his head to see Lucas, staring at the girl with a dreamy look in his eyes. 

“Hi… I’m Lucas.” Max’s lips tugged slightly up at the sight of the boy, her skateboard in hand. “What's that?” He pointed at it and she smiled widely, walking inside the house, grabbing onto his hand to guide him outside where everyone was.

“I’ll teach you!” Steve could hear her yell as he let Billy in. He closes the door only to see Billy looking all over the house with a confused frown on his face. 

“This is big… You all live here?” He asks and Steve stands next to him, nodding as he looks around as well.

“Yep. We are grateful to her, you know. We would have…” He suddenly heard some footsteps coming over and Steve turned his head to see Eddie reaching them, with a piece of bread in his hand, his other one reaching out to shake Billy’s.

“I’m Eddie.” He greets and Billy looks down at the prosthetic hand, shaking it carefully with him, and when Eddie lets go, the blonde man’s curiosity got the best of him.

“I’m Billy– Um… how did that happen?” He asks, pointing at the hand. Eddie looks down at it and then back at Billy.

“Crocodile bit it off.” He shrugs and walks towards the kitchen once again as Billy stands there completely stunned. Steve’s eyes were bulging out of his skull almost, and he was trying to come up with another excuse because that sounded way too unreal and he didn’t want Billy to think Eddie was messing with him.

“Fucking sick.” Billy says with a smile and he looks back down towards Steve. The brown haired man lets out a sigh of relief and then nods.

“Gruesome, but yeah, sick.” Billy just stands there looking at Steve, his mind completely drifting away and Steve could even sense that, as the blonde’s eyes were just gazing into his, and that was making Steve’s heart accelerate rapidly. “W-What’s wrong?”  That made Billy snap out but his face was still the same, still staring as if his eyes were not to be trusted.

“I-I don’t know, you just seem… like you came out of a fairytale or something.” Steve couldn’t help the big smile and blush that spread on his cheeks, while Billy realized what he had just said, embarrassment filling him from head to toe, stammering on his words to try to save it but Steve was just laughing, enjoying the man’s company and voice. 

You were sneaking glances through the kitchen door, a smile on your face as you bit your bottom lip. Everyone has someone in your family, your big family, and that fills you with joy. You felt an arm creep from behind you, pulling you close to a warm body. You giggle as his face immediately snuzzled in the crook of your neck, causing your skin to grow goosebumps from it. 

“Eddie–”

“Don’t spy on them. Let my second in command flirt in peace.” He says in your ear and you turn around to face him, smiling widely up at him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“I’m just so happy… Everyday just feels like a dream.” You say to him, and he gives you a nod, a gentle smile spreading on his lips as he leans down to kiss your cheek, then the tip of your nose, expressing his love for you.

“I will never regret the day I thought you were Wendy and kidnapped you.”

“I should sue.” He fake gasps while shaking his head at you.

“Now, you’ve hurt me Angel.” Your eyes looked to your side, seeing everyone playing with each other through the window pane you had, and your eyes filled with tears at the sight of it all. Nothing could make it better. Nothing at all… Except.

You felt Eddie grip your side, giving it a soft press to catch your attention again. You looked at him and his eyes were nervous, full of doubt yet with determination. 

“Eds? What's wrong?”

“I know… The kids don’t call me dad… But–” He licked his lips while swallowing a big lump down his throat and your heart was almost out of your chest and you could hear its beating on your ears. He gives you a big grin as a tear already rolls down your cheek.

He grabs your hand and walks out of the kitchen to take you upstairs and into your grandmother’s room. He then opens the balcony’s door and steps out with you, the breeze already hitting you and the sun beaming down at your body.

“Close your eyes Angel.” He whispers in your ear as he lets go of your hand. Your breathing became heavy as you did as told, and you raised your head up, towards where the second star to the right is. You always wished on it, wished that it wouldn’t take your love away, that it wouldn’t take your children away, wished that everything was real and not a dream.

“Eddie–”

“Open them and turn around.” You did as told, turning to see Eddie on one knee, a box on his hand as his elbow rested on his knee. Your heart got caught in your throat as you looked at the diamond in the box, covering your mouth with both of your hands as tears started spilling out uncontrollably from your eyes.

“What…?”

“I want to be their dad. I want to be with you, forever, for as long as you’ll have me, or for as long as we live. You’re it for me Angel, you have been it for me from the moment you decided to fly towards me, towards the ship, instead of here.” He choked up on a sob and then took a deep breath to keep going. “I know it’s soon, but I can’t imagine my life with anyone else. In my eyes, into my future, you’re always there. You will always be there.” 

You dropped to your knees, as happiness flourished in your chest, smiling through your tears as you put your left hand up, putting it on display for him. You looked up at his big doe eyes, a tear slipping out of his left one as he looked down at you as if you were the only thing keeping him alive.

And you were.

“I’m ready to be Mrs. Hook.”

And when our journey is through, each time we say "Goodnight", we'll thank the little star that shines, the second from the right.

A/N: Remember you can still send requests for these two! I plan on making more little one shots for them, but this one is good so you can all know what happened after the return 🥰

Hope you enjoyed this magical little thing!

Song at the bottom is Second Star to the Right from the original 1953 Peter Pan soundtrack.

[justapoet]

these roads are changing me (but they all lead back to you)

She wanted to have it, the freedom to touch him and smother him and kiss him absolutely senseless. She wanted to know what it was like to be kissed by him, to be hugged as it meant something more, to bask in the feeling of waking up beside him knowing they belonged to each other. Annabeth wanted to belong to him. Desperately. Vocally. On purpose. She wanted to belong, but she didn't care about where in the world. But Annabeth found that she was stuck. Frozen in place and unable to make a coherent thought.

read on Ao3

chapter 1: to those who ask

chapter 2: to whose who wait

chapter 3: to those who gaze

chapter 4: to those who left

chapter 5: to those who went so far away

chapter 6: to those who remain

chapter 7: to those who never saw me

chapter 8: to those who said they would stay

chapter 9: to those left behind

to the love of my life

Annabeth Chase fell in love with Percy Jackson on an ordinary night, when the moon hid and the stars weren't strong enough to shine through the city lights.

She fell in love with him on a summer day, when the Sun wanted the world to see its brightness and the water reached the shore a little higher than the day before.

She fell in love with him at a cramped up apartment, with books and papers scattered all around as she tried again and again to draw the same line of a project she was never satisfied with, and he ordered take-out because she'd forgotten to eat.

She fell in love with him on a winter day when his face was pink and cold, and she didn't put on gloves just to press her fingers against his cheeks and feel the smile that would always spread on his face.

She fell in love with him in Spring, when being stung by a bee made him ignore his aching arm to bury the little insect under the flower he'd allegedly stolen from it.

She fell in love with him in Autumn, when he'd asked her for pictures with a scarf that resembled a song Juniper and Grover loved to sing along to, despite its full ten minutes of extension.

She fell in love with him when it was warm, and the cabin on Montauk had been cleaned three times so she wouldn't fear getting mugged by a spider.

She fell in love with him when it was cold, and he had done his best to fight his fever-induced sleepiness so they could watch Sandra Bullock falling in love with Ryan Reynolds because Annabeth just had felt the need to believe in love again.

She fell in love with him when it was rainy and the flowers she'd gotten him were a bit crumpled by the water's aggressive falling from the sky, but he cradled them with such care it made her wonder why she'd never gotten him any flowers before.

She fell in love with him when his smile was bright enough to light up the whole town the moment he'd spotted her with his swim-team cap and a huge hand-made sign over her head with a really abstract drawing (made mostly by Estelle) of him with a fish-tail.

She fell in love with him in the silence after she'd run from home again, and found herself cradled in his and Sally's arms.

She fell in love with him in August, when his eyes would always tear up at the sight of another home-baked blue cake she got progressively better at.

She fell in love with him in the loudness of the book-launch party they'd thrown in Sally's honor for her first book.

She fell in love with him in April, when he showed up at her house with a highly unreliable blue ice-cream and a batch of brownies in his backpack, smiling blindly just because.

She fell in love with him on Sunday when the next morning already haunted her and he decided that there was no right or wrong time for ice cream.

She fell in love with him in May, when he hugged her over and over because of the surprise trip to the newest aquarium in the area.

She fell in love with him on Thursday when they picked a new place to visit and made written reviews to trade at the end of the night, and the company spot was always five stars (and a heart, when she got his paper).

She fell in love with him in September, when he shared with her his jelly after a nasty fall on a skateboard had landed him in the ER with a mild concussion.

She fell in love with him on Wednesday when he trusted her with the keys of his blue jeep and asked her to just drive as far as she could with the windows down and a random playlist blaring in their ears.

She fell in love with him in March, when, at two in the morning, he decided he had enough information on sharks to write a whole paper by her side, as she finished another project.

She fell in love with him in November, when his eyes lit up at the most hideous, terribly knit sweater she had made him just because she wanted to.

She fell in love with him in January, when she lost, over and over, the snowball war they'd waged in Paul's mother's backyard.

She fell in love with him on Friday when the week caught up to their shoulders and still there was always disposition for a batch of blue cookies.

She fell in love with him in June, when the twelfth was a reason for chocolate because somewhere in the south-hemisphere was celebrating Valentine’s Day.

She fell in love with him at ten in the morning, when he had spent the entire night playing something online with Jason and forgotten to sleep, and woken up with crumpled hair when she tossed a pillow at his head.

She fell in love with him in December, when there was no one in New York happier about Christmas lights and trees and terrible-looking hoodies.

She fell in love with him on Tuesday, when nothing really happened but she remembered, randomly around the clock, that he existed and was a real person walking around the surface of the Earth.

She fell in love with him at nine in the night, when there wasn’t a bad time to take a dive in the sea.

She fell in love with him in July when her birthday was a quiet matter with the brightest smiles and the most thoughtful gifts.

She fell in love with him in October and February when his eyes were kind and his touch was sweet as she cried her eyes out over stupid, stupid romantic movies.

She fell in love with him, and suddenly she wasn't afraid of heights.

She fell in love with him, and the ocean didn't seem such a big thing to compare anything to.

She fell in love with him, and wished she believed in an afterlife so she could see him again.

She fell in love with him, and suddenly rationality wasn't the answer to anything, anymore.

She fell in love with him.

And so it happened.

She fell in love with him.

She fell.

She fell.

She falls.

✉

"Where do you want to go from here?" Percy asked from the bedroom, and she could hear the way he — very violently, it's safe to note — dried his hair with a towel. A part of her wanted desperately to admonish his actions, because that was the last thing someone with such pretty curls for a hair should ever do, but Annabeth found that she was stuck.

Frozen in place and unable to make a coherent thought.

They had gotten to Venice two days before, and walked around the same parts of the city for as long as their feet could manage to bear their weight. Her phone, she was sure, would soon start overheating if they kept taking the amount of pictures they did — but she couldn’t help the need to register every single detail of every place and town and city their eyes scanned around them.

 It was an hour into being settled in the hotel before they had gotten on gondolas and just floated around the channels, chatting happily with the lovely man with the rows and silently thanking Nico for the forced Italian lessons he decided to give their group after Leo had forced them to learn Spanish. All throughout the day, Annabeth’s smile didn’t falter, unlike her heart, with Percy by her side, looking a lot like a child who'd gotten the best remote-control car ever for Christmas, absolutely thriving while being in a roadless, floating town.

His smile was blinding all throughout the day, and Annabeth's expression mirrored his — she couldn't help it. Percy's excitement left no other option but to join him in silly smiles and unrestrained laughter, none of them caring much when they laughed too loud and attracted confused pairs of eyes in their direction. The people were used, probably, to tourists at that point in living there.

And now, as the sun began to set on the third day they were on Italian soil, they had retired earlier just to share one lazy night together. The day had been warm, and they'd walked their fair share while touring shops and cafés and restaurants (because Percy had a mission while in Italy, and it was to leave with more pounds in weight than he had arrived with), and their sore legs were almost nothing compared to their sore cheeks at so many sights and sighs and pictures.

They were having lunch in a Google-recommended restaurant — that deserved the praise and recommendation, that was for sure — when Annabeth decided that she would do something about the butterflies in her stomach and the fluttering of her heart. Percy was laughing, and she was smiling, and she didn't know if she wanted to snap a picture of his face just to have it stored somewhere, the sight, or go on and take one of the beautiful arrangements of the plate because it was what they usually did.

She wanted to kiss him, too, when the dessert came and his eyes lit up at the mere sight of the waiter carrying the plate. She wanted to kiss him when he smiled, when he laughed, when his face got dirty because he had no manners when sweets were involved — she wanted to kiss him when he asked for another desert to take home, and when they got up and he tangled their arms together.

She wanted to kiss him and hug him and wrap her arms around him a little bit possessively when a gorgeous european lady was clearly hitting on him, and Percy didn't have a clue, because he had always been that way. She wanted to hold his hand and know it meant more to the both of them — she wanted it to mean more on purpose.

She wanted to have it, the freedom to touch him and smother him and kiss him absolutely senseless. She wanted to know what it was like to be kissed by him, to be hugged as it meant something more, to bask in the feeling of waking up beside him knowing they belonged to each other.

Annabeth wanted to belong to him. Desperately. Vocally. On purpose.

With purpose. Of spending her life loving him openly — clearly, in a way that Percy could see it, too, and know that it meant something.

She wanted to have that, to have him, anywhere they wandered to. Venice, Lille, Paris, Athens, Rome, Zurique, Lucerna, Lisbon, London, Lima, Rio, Brussels, Vienna, San Francisco, New York.

She wanted to belong, but she didn't care about where in the world.

And so, when they got back to the small apartment they were staying in, Annabeth had let him take a shower first, and headed straight to the folder that she kept safe and far on her backpack, taking out the last letter she had tucked in there. It was a bit more crumpled than the others, the amount of times she'd read it before and throughout their trip making it a little worse for wear — it wasn't a recent letter, though it had been one of the last ones she'd written.

She'd known who the letter was for from the beginning. But it took a while (a really long one) for her to admit it, to make it real on paper as well.

And as she walked back to the cozy living room, she could hear Percy's less than tuned sing-along to The Little Mermaid's live action's 'Wild Uncharted Waters'. Annabeth couldn't help but chuckle, smiling widely and shaking her head. 

Terrible for the neighbors. 

A blessing for her very, very unsteady heart.

A sudden wave of fear hit her, then, and Annabeth stopped moving, frozen on spot as if lightning had hit her and petrified her muscles. Her throat tightened, and she pressed her lips against each other as she swallowed dryly.

Those small blessings, those little moments they shared in the secrecy of their friendship, were far too precious for her to risk. Weren't they? To have him like that, carefree and comfortable and just so damn sweet, was worth risking?

Was it worth it, a heartbreak over the skipping beats she had lived with for so long?

And so, when Percy had gotten out of the shower and talked to her, Annabeth couldn't move.

She couldn't move, couldn't change the way she was sitting on the couch, cross-legged as her hands held carefully to the last piece of paper she had found among the things she didn't think she had kept. Her eyes darted carefully through all the nearly non-existent details over the folded sheet, the same she'd been staring at for a quite worrisome amount of time.

She knew, to some extent, and was confident that things would be perfectly fine after she'd given him the letter for his curious eyes to discover. Annabeth was perfectly sure, just as she was about most things she knew and learned and taught, that the outcome wasn't dangerous, whatever it was — they'd still be the two of them, and things would work out completely well. Not for her heart, perhaps, but she knew her soul wouldn't be torn apart, in the end.

Because, while the consequence of knowing Percy was to love him, the opposite also proved itself to be true. To love him is to know him — know all the smallest details of his face and expressions, of his gestures and the tone of his voice. She knew what to expect of his reactions, and what to never expect of his words and actions; she knew him. And had for a really long time.

Which made her overthinking and the hammering of her heart to be incredibly irrational, as well.

But, Annabeth supposed, it was inevitable when dealing with matters of the heart; the only few things she could never learn thoroughly despite her very best efforts, despite all her dedication. She could try to convince herself all she wanted, and Annabeth knew it would never worked as she'd planned it — she'd still get breathless upon the sight of him, still get heartbroken at his absence, and still fall over and over in love with the man she'd met so many times, in so many ways.

She hoped, secretly as she carried her feelings and truths, that she'd get the chance to meet him again — she hoped, and prayed, that she'd meet him in the middle.

"Like, I know we're not making plans and such, but do you have anywhere in mind?" he continued, his voice getting closer to where she was. His feet were bare against the flooring, and he had put the towel back in the bathroom at some point of her mind-turmoil. "South, or west, or staying here for longer?"

She didn't move or reply, and Annabeth could almost see with the back of her head as he stopped moving. She could picture the crease in between his eyebrows, and how he squinted his eyes in worry. She wanted to laugh. But she couldn't quite breathe as her lungs should.

It's Percy, she reminded herself. Your Percy. He deserves to know.

And she deserved to tell him, as well, and take this one leap of faith.

Because in her very core, she knew that she couldn't fall without him jumping and falling right after her.

"Annabeth?" Percy called. "Are you alright?" he asked, now rounding the couch and flopping by her side, his eyes concerned as he took in the scene — Annabeth, unmoving as stone, holding a piece of folded paper and eyes glued to it. She wasn't sure she was even blinking. "Wise Girl?" he called again, his voice low and even more concerned.

She inhaled sharply. As she exhaled, she closed her eyes.

"There's one more letter," she said, sober and only high enough that he could hear it. Percy's eyes, so bright while looking at her, had this worried expression not as well hidden as he thought it was. She turned his head to look at him, again. It made her as breathless as it always did. "That I've been keeping and carrying around, too."

Percy's smile was kind, his features softening.

"Oh?" he expressed, adjusting his position beside her so he could face her more easily. "Well, that's just perfect. One more thrill to look for. One more remittee to figure out," he smiled, and Annabeth felt her heart swelling in her chest.

Her smile, she was sure, was completely love drunk as she spoke again.

"Yeah," she agreed, and stretched out her arm to offer him the folded letter. "This one's a little more personal, though. Not that the others weren't, but—" she shrugged. "This one's a bit more," she settled with it. Her arm was still stretched out, and her hand was shaking a little. The uncertain rhythm of her heart might've been the cause, or just the anticipation for his reaction. Percy, forever careful and thoughtful as he was, sent her a look that asked her if she was sure she wanted him to read it.

She nodded.

It was high time she stopped running away from him. From them.

She didn't have the energy, the need, and much less the desire to keep pulling away.

Percy took the folded paper, and carefully opened it up, still looking at her face. Annabeth tried to smile in encouragement, but her mind was working overdrive, and it was hard to try to settle his feelings when hers were all over the place, over the letter, over them both. With one of his hands, Percy reached for her leg and squeezed it, assuring.

"Are you sure you want me to read it? We can figure out a receiver some other way," he asked, concerned at how private it was, and she shook her head.

"Not this one, we can't," she assured him. "I really want you to read it," Annabeth replied, trying to sound as honest and sure as she felt. Percy nodded, smiling again, and she really thought her heart would fly out of her chest through her ribs the moment his blue eyes looked down at the paper.

She watched his pupils and irises move as he took in the first line. The vocative. The one she'd changed, with a blue pen over the black ink, so many moons ago. The same blue she'd signed the letter with, contrary to all the others.

He stopped.

"Annabeth—" he tried, looking up at her with alarmed, wide blue eyes, and she didn't let him finish.

"Read it," she asked, and it sounded a lot like a plea. "Please."

She could see how he held his breath when he nodded. The tension over his shoulders when he looked back down at the paper. How he didn't dare to breathe as his eyes moved again.

Annabeth knew him too well not to notice, and her leg started to move in her anxiety as he took in each word written there. She knew them all, back to front. She'd read it, and reread it, and read it again just to be sure she had conveyed what she meant — she didn't, she couldn't, not really. There weren't enough words around the globe that could precisely make him make sense. The two of them, though? Even less.

She knew each word, and knew which parts took him longer to take in. The text was as familiar as the freckles over his nose and the feeling of her own hand in his. The words were as well-known as the whirlwind of his curls and the way his smile was so kind to her. Everything on that sheet was just as common, as familiar, as recognizable as the heartbeats inside her chest.

And as she waited, Annabeth couldn't help but go through the letter one more time, just to be sure. Just to be her — the overthinker she'd always been.

"To the love of my life, Percy Jackson,

read the rest on Ao3

[universallydestinytaco]

SF Episode Ideas

“A Glep’s Eye View”

A whole episode starring Glep, who while dumpster diving finds what appears to be a rare golden coin coveted by a gang of raccoons. After a wild chase trying to get the coin back, gets into a fire ant nest where they’re about to attack until their Queen gives him a pardon, asking how such a handsome critter ended up in their colony. Turns out the ants and the raccoons always have had this beef, fighting over picnic food, so they decide to aid Glep in retrieving the coin. After an elaborately animated fight between Glep + the fire ants and the raccoons, Glep retrieves his treasure only to find out it’s one of those chocolate coins in the shiny wrappers instead of actual gold. Not that he minds anyway.

“Amy Pimling’s Number One Trending Bad Girl Reputation Era Billboard Single”

Pim’s bratty sister Amy makes a music video in hopes of spreading her wings as a singer, and it trends online for all the wrong reasons with everyone lambasting it as “Too safe”, “cliche” and “tacky”, and things get worse when Pim coincidentally uploads an old video of himself at a high school talent show which reveals he was the original writer and singer of the song, resulting in his version getting way more praise and Amy to be labeled a shameless plagiarist so she makes a PR move by doing the unthinkable: calling Smiling Friends and having them help save her from the backlash, unaware that her little brother works there... so they arrive Amy royally chews Pim out and is very impatient and rude with him while they’re cooking up suggestions to help her. Once they finally have had enough of her BS and have her sign some papers, Amy then realizes how mean she has been to Pim and that the whole music fiasco she is dealing with could be a sign that, indeed, karma’s a bitch. If there’s one thing the Smiling Friends themselves have all learned that day, they just can’t satisfy everyone…

“Charlie Hits the Sauce”

A limited edition Mr. Frog-themed menu item made in limited numbers gets released exclusively at Salty’s, causing inevitable chaos that the President himself would be proud of. Charlie desperately tries to get his hands on the sauce without having to give up a fortune so he decides to go on an insane quest to gather all the ingredients necessary to transmutate them together. The next day Charlie shows up to work the next day with his arm and leg replaced with bionic prosthetics and a bowl of dipping sauce with nuggets to taste. Everyone digs in just as a news report comes on reporting that those little green packets caused food poisoning amongst the few who where able to try it.

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

I Did A Terrible Thing • Where Have Those Hands Been? • Im Gonna Spend The Rest Of My Life Lying • A Nice Family Dinner For Once • Dont You Wish You Had Somemore • I Tried So Hard To Be Good • A Little Place Called Trust • Sleep With The Fishes • So, How Goes The Good Fight • God Forgive Us All • AliverAlungAkidneyAthumb • Drive Carefully, Dear • Out Come The Knives

Spotify ♪ YouTube

[omarera]

So so proud of Omar. I am so happy he is let in to new types of media. SvD and DN are the biggest national morning news papers in Sweden. He has been in evening papers and might be silly but I am glad he is covered in these papers. And now also Hellenius Hörna and Så mycket bättre. Thank You TV4. Now let’s hope national radio stations let his music in as well.

Here are some bits of the interview in SvD. It resembles his Sommarprat and nothing new for us really but a really nice interview with a nice tone in it and it will reach many households in Sweden that still has morning papers…

He talks about where he was a few years ago from the interview and I think it’s beautiful that he opens up about feeling lost, experimenting and on his journey to get to know himself and feel confident being who he is and that he also dares to vocalize his dreams. Remember that Jantelagen is strong in Sweden and vocalizing such big dreams is not usual. His journey continues!! I so want for him to reach his goals❤️

They start off with his FO&O and talk a out his bringing and his mom and dad and moving to Sweden.

One thing he hasn’t touched so much on before is how being known so young affected him:

“It was the sickest thing I've ever been through. It was both a kick and very scary to break through, especially when you were alone in town or going home on the bus. I was up in Stockholm and felt very watched. It was an emotional rollercoaster.”

He takes a deep breath.

“Every single person my age has known about me since I was 14 years old. It has been very intense and probably affected me in different ways. I've probably become more shy and stick mostly to my friends that I've had for many years.”

(We know he always pick stay home and that he is very close to his friends and has a circle of friends he feels safe with. And then about after FO&O)

“I released a few singles, but then the pandemic came and everything was put on hold. That's when it started.

Omar Rudberg puts one hand in his baggy leather jacket pocket and looks out through the Connection Hall in the Slaughterhouse area, where we met on a cool autumn afternoon.

“I was incredibly lost. Both in my professional role and in myself. I had no idea who I was or what I was going to be, what I liked and didn't like.

He set out on an experimental journey.

- I tried to find myself and started hanging out very intensively with friends. We hung out every day and became almost like a collective. It was incredibly fun and above all nice to see people who were in different ways.”

(I also liked this part where he talks about his creativity: )

“In the new homeland, the song and dance continued to be palpable, as did Omar's wild imagination. By the age of eight, it was so intense that his parents took him to a child psychologist.

- What they reacted to was that I didn't need toys. I could just enter another world, be chased by dinosaurs or have the worst action movie in my head. But I wasn't crazy, the child psychologist noted, just a child.

The creativity and musical gift can be traced to the grandmother and the mother. Early on, the latter ensured that Omar participated in talent competitions, often with success.

(And then more in creativity and using it to find yourself)

- My friends and I started trying different types of clothes. We played music and got dressed up. Some tried to put on makeup and nail polish. I really experimented. Those who are not in the know immediately think that a guy who wears make-up is gay or transgender - that bothers me. Make-up should not have to have an orientation, it should be for everyone. Now I wear black eyeliner when I feel like it without being ashamed.

Playing with the outside became a way to find home more in one's inner self, and the fact that Omar was named Best Dressed Man of the Year by the magazine Café this spring is something of a receipt for that.

- I have realized that I have to feel comfortable, stable and free with who I am if I am to be able to move forward in life. Clothes clearly play a role in that. They can also help me get into a certain character more easily.

(There is more text in YR and Karusell but he gets back to: )

“Although it is as an actor Omar has become known in recent years, it is the music he wants to focus on the most in the future. A few days ago, the new single Off my mind was released and tonight is the premiere of this year's So much better on TV4, where Omar is one of the participants.

Perhaps the participation will also be revenge for Omar as a solo artist.

- Yes, I hope people are reminded that I'm actually a singer at heart, it's music that I love the most. I'm looking forward to releasing an album eventually and especially to playing live.

A decade has passed since Omar Rudberg first broke through, when I ask what he thinks life will look like in another ten years, he first laughs at the thought of being 35. Then comes the answer:

- I want to have done the sickest gigs, have had several hits and be out on a world tour. I want to be in a Latin American TV series or movie and for my own company to be worth an incredible amount of money. I will not buy a Lamborghini, but a nice apartment for my mother so that she can be free as a bird. I want to give back everything I got from her.

He runs his hand through his slightly wavy hair and walks over to the mirror to get ready for the photo shoot.

- I would never have dared to have it this way a few years ago. Thankfully, I am much more confident in myself now.

You're not as lost anymore?

- No, I have grown a lot in recent years and now I feel stable enough to take myself forward in life. But I'm probably not quite there yet, the journey continues …

Translated bits from: Elin Liljero Eriksson - 23 oktober 2023 SvD Magazine.

[madeintheniamh]

I have a lot of imagination so i’m good at sending requests 😂 I love dad Harry; i was thinking of one where Tilly gets a bad grade and she’s ashamed to tell her parents or something among those lines 🤷🏽‍♀️

your wish is my command! although AAB isn't a bad set of a level grades by any stretch of the imagination- but we all know T has very high expectations of herself. here you are xx

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

results day blues

stmf one shot #5.

a/n- loved writing this one! i had my a level results day in 2022 and it was one of the most stressful but best days of my life. everything can change in a matter of minutes, it's terrifying but amazing at the same time.

song- when the going gets tough, the tough get going -billy ocean (my parents blasted this when i opened my results last year so its only fair)

warnings: lots of fluff, anxiety attacks, dadrry

“Come on Til, you’re going to have to open it at some point,” Harry sighed, soothingly rubbing his hand across his 18 year old daughter’s back. “I know you’ve done really well,”

She shook her head, the envelope in her hand beginning to become soft in-between her fingers, which were now drenched with sweat. “I can’t, Dad,”

The school sports hall was packed with a hundred teenagers and their parents- some looked gleeful whilst others were in tears. It was the day that Tilly had spent the last two years studying for, you and Harry putting up with Tilly chanting different phrases at you in French, and trying to explain the Industrial revolution to you both over and over again, which usually resulted in Harry ending up fast asleep at the other end of the sofa. You knew that she hadn’t slept all night- black bags lined underneath her green eyes, which she had tried desperately to cover with a layer of concealer.

“I can open it for you,” Lottie smirked as she tried to snatch it from her sister’s hand.

“No!” Tilly cried, her lips trembling. “I want to do it,”

“Well get on with it, then,” Lottie joked as you glanced over at her, brows furrowed.

“Give your sister some space, you will be nervous when you have to open your results next year too,”

Tilly glanced, wide-eyed, around the hall, as her friendship group began to march towards her, beckoning her to tell them whether she had gotten the grades she needed to get into university. She slumped into Harry’s arms, her heart racing, her eyes beginning to become glossy. Her face almost turned a shade of green before she quickly turned around and darted outside, Harry chasing after her.

“Tilly, where are you going, baby!” Harry shouted, struggling to keep up. He found her sat outside on a set of stairs, mascara now streaming down her face. Her cheeks were a shade of bright red as she struggled to breathe, a wheeze escaping her lungs every few seconds. Harry scrambled around his bag to find his inhaler before pressing it up to her lips.

“Deep breaths, babygirl,” he sighed, sitting down next to her. “You’re okay, Daddy’s got you,”

They sat like that for a few minutes, with her cradled in his arms, the august breeze ruffling Harry’s soft brown hair, which he had grown back down to his shoulders.

“I think,” she whispered. “I think I’m ready to open it, Daddy,”

“Okay, baby,” he smiled. “I’m going to be so proud of you, no matter what. You know that, don’t you? I’m always proud of you,”

Her lips curled up slightly at the corners as he said this, her eyes still red with tears as she began to tear open the top of the envelope, revealing the letters inside.

“Oh no,” she began to sob, her breathing picking up again. “Oh no, oh no, no, no, no,”

She threw the papers onto the ground in front of her before holding her head in her hands. Harry reached down to pick them up, adjusting his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose.

He almost gasped as he began to read the letters on the page. “Til, that’s amazing!”

“It’s not, it’s shit Dad, don’t lie to me,” she shouted. “All that for nothing,”

“I wouldn’t have been able to get those grades, Til,” he tried to soothe her. “I’m so proud of you,”

She looked up as she was greeted by you and Lottie, who had finally found her and Harry outside of the hall, her eyes now lined with black.

“What’s wrong, darling?” you asked, as she stared back up at you whilst biting your lip.

“I haven’t got in,” she stuttered. “I needed AAA to get into Manchester, and I only got AAB, and I-”

“Only,” Harry tutted.  “Have you checked UCAS? You never know, maybe they’ll still accept you,”

She shook her head, her head burrowed in his t-shirt, which was now stained with her mascara.

“I don’t want to,” she wept. “I bet they haven’t,”

“I can do it for you, if you like,” Harry replied, and she began to unlock her phone and passed it to him.

“Oh god, I don’t know how this works,” he chuckled, trying to keep his tone light. “Wait, hold on, wait,”

His face began to light up.

“What,” Tilly sniffled, trying to wipe the smeared makeup from around her eyes.

“You’re in!” he shouted. “It says you’re going to Manchester,”

“You’re lying,” Tilly hissed.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, baby, look,” Harry smiled.

He held the phone out to her, and her eyes lit up as she saw confetti on the screen. “You’re joking, this must be a joke, I-”

“My baby is going to uni!” he shouted, jumping up with her still in his arms. “Hold on, I’ve got to tell Nanny Anne and Aunty Gemma, they’re going to be so happy,”

“But why, Daddy,” she whispered. “Why would they still take me, I did shit, I am shit at everything,”

He cupped her chin in his hands and turned it towards him, his eyes widened, a line forming in-between his eyebrows. “Don’t you dare talk about yourself like that, you know that’s not true,”

“It is,” she moaned.

“No,” he said sternly, “It’s not,”

“Okay, it’s not,” she sighed. “But I only got a B in French,”

“Only!” he laughed. “I only got a C in my French GCSE, I was awful at it- Nanny Anne would tell you. And you know you can speak French, I’ve heard you, so why does it matter what a piece of paper says,”

She exhaled slowly. “You’re right. It’s just a letter,”

“That’s right,” he smiled. “And you know I’m so proud of you, don’t you? You make me more and more proud every-day, I love you,” He peppered a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you too,” she smirked.

[evita-shelby]

It's Only a Paper Moon

Diane x Bucky

Cw:allusion to premarital sex?

For @yorkshirekiwi

Based around this version of the song

She offers a carved flask, and he accepts it with a muttered thank you. She looked like Collen Moore with those eyes of hers, one brown, one blue. Very pretty too.

“Gin?” He asks after handing the flask back mostly empty. Tasted like Shelby Gin if you asked him, just as sweet as he likes it.

“My dad’s personal recipe.” The nurse said with a shrug and emptied the rest of it herself. The Shelbys were English, what were the odds the Shelby Gin heiress was the pretty nurse with the strange eyes sitting here with him?

If it had been a shit day for him, it would have been about as bad for her as well. Her hair is falling out of the impeccable bun she’d had on when they arrived, her uniform stained with blood and grime and looks older than she looked when he last saw her.

She doesn’t smoke, and yet she took a cigarette break. More like an excuse to just calm down before having to go back to the triage.

“Name’s John, everyone calls me Bucky.” He smiles and wipes a smudge of blood off her cheek with his sleeve.

“Diane, Nurse Shelby when I’m om the clock and Di when I’m not.” She returned his smile and Bucky knew he just had to take out this posh English girl dancing.

“Any plans for tonight, Lady Di?” he needs a drink, to sing and maybe even a fuck too. Good thing he had no prior commitments to keep him from doing that last bit.

Those RAF Officers would hate it so much if they saw him with her, wouldn’t they? What was it that they’d said, an American thinks he can fuck a duchess?

“Free as a bird, Major.” Lady Di answers and tells him where he can find her.

“Call me Bucky.”

They talk about him as if he were a Hollywood star, him and his friend, Gale. They had the looks and the charm, even if Bucky often did all the talking.

She wore pale pink with red earrings, red as her lipstick and her shiny heels that barely had her reach his shoulders. Not that it matters, John Egan was too good of a dancer to care about the disparity in their height.

He’s great fun, sings along to the music and yet knows his limits despite having the same intention as every man before him. She’d fuck him of course, she needs the release as much as he does, might as well send him off to die having had a great night.

“How do you live in a place like this, no sunshine no good food?” he asks ordering them both drinks. He knows who she is given by that grin when he gets them Shelby Whiskey.

“My mother’s foreign, from Mexico, and my dad is Romani, a gypsy if you aren’t familiar with the word. So, I get great food and I can always chase the sun whether on land or over the water.” She thanks the barkeep and wonders if he’s done his research on her like the some of the others have. “Besides, it has its charms, Arrow House is known for gardens and woods you can get lost in.”

Diane had done her homework on him, there was always a need to properly vet the people she slept with, especially since her father was in the House of Commons and his factories supplied so much for the war effort.

Perhaps made the connection between her and the gin. The Americans wouldn’t be so careless as to have him spy on her, or realize she was here to see what sort of shit the yanks weren’t telling the Crown.

John Clarence Egan, from Manitowoc, Wisconsin, born September 9, 1915. A shit singer, with a devil may care attitude that made you forget this war and not some movie. He had a girl back home, Josephine Ada Pitz, the first female pilot in their town. He was fond of Shelby alcohol, something that had cemented itself in the hearts of the American working class even before prohibition ended.

“The best of both worlds, then.” He said and proposed a toast to it.

“I heard you sing, Major.” Diane mentions and feeling her heart flutter when he grins widely.

“Like a donkey in a church choir, but it doesn’t matter if you’re loud. Do you, Lady Di?” Bucky asks with his eyes shining in mischief.

“How about you pick the song, Bucky, and I’ll show you?” No wonder the ladies here were crazy for him and his friend. John Egan could get dowdy Queen Elizabeth to jump into his bed if he set his mind to it.

“Paper Moon.”

Its not long before they’re sneaking around for more than just a few drinks and couple of songs that same night.

“You know what I want?” he asks as they move into the sparse woods on the base in search for privacy. The supply closet was already claimed, neither wished to risk their sleeping quarters and there was no way to go to the bed and breakfast nearest the base.

“I hope its not a virgin, Bucky.” She teases kissing him again and tugging him to her by his belt buckle.

“No, not that, Lady Di.” He presses her back to the tree, not caring they’ll be discovered and punished for this. But he’s a good kisser, and the rough bark turns her on even more. “I want to feel something other than whatever the fuck’s gotten into me, Di.”

“Don’t we all, Egan. Only a paper moon, isn’t it?” The singing, the dancing and the feel of understanding as they gave into their attraction for each other, all of that was just to sate their needs for the night and go their separate ways once it was over. Not that Diane judged him for it, not one bit.

They could die tomorrow and no one but a handful of people would care about it.

Only a paper moon sailing over a cardboard sky after all.

It becomes a habit, she is Bucky’s girl even if they are technically only friends who fuck each other and sing together.

She reads cards and knows the future, not that he’s ever believed in that bullshit, but she’s not been wrong when she tells him he’ll come back each time he leaves.

Wouldn’t be make-believe if you believed me, she sings when he doubts her predictions out of habit most days.

Still this is all a paper moon and she’ll move on soon enough. They all do.

“Won’t your girl back home be angry you’re singing and fucking an English girl?” Diane asks as they devour each other in the little bed and breakfast every soldier has used at some point. Before the Americans came in it was the RAF and before that just normal people with no fear of dying after.

“Shit’s been over since I came here, not the pen pal type, Di.” he hadn’t thought about Jo since he got command of his squadron and returned to flying. She’d sent some letters then once she saw he wasn’t going to write back, Jo stopped writing. They always do.

“Just making sure I’m not your dirty little secret.” The nurse assured him as their paper moon hung in the sky.

“Are you gonna come dancing tonight?” he asks once the moment is over and they pretend they don’t have other shit going on. They’re just another pair of lovers making use of the bed and its warmth.

“Only if you ask me nicely, Major.” She flutters her lashes and kissed him sweetly.

He likes her, likes the feeling of knowing she’s here waiting for him.

Strange how he sought her out so he could feel something else for a change, and got more than he’d even asked for.

Everything’s make-believe until you believe in it.

That night he gets the band to play Paper Moon.

He sings to it and she blushes feeling every single damn thing he is now trying to tell her. Perhaps she really was a witch, after all.

“But it wouldn’t be make-believe if you believed me,” Di sang softly, just to him, as she kissed him like she loved him.

“Do you want me to bring you back anything from my next flight, sweetheart?” he asks knowing whatever she answers won’t make sense until after his mission.

“Last nice thing you see in Algeria, preferably jewelry of some kind.” Her mismatched eyes gleam in knowing he finds it hard to believe her words.

John and those who survived Regensburg stay in Algeria for a week, and no matter how hard he tries he can’t find something nice for her before his tine there is up.

On his last day in Algeria, he buys a silver locket with a carved moon where he puts a picture of himself.

He loves her, as strange as it feels to admit it even to Buck, who only teases him for it.

“You should’ve gotten the ring instead, Bucky.” Gale jokes and Bucky hates to admit that he’s right, but there will be time for that if he is to believe his witch.

They celebrate his return with gin and she wears the locket as he takes her on the same tree they fucked against that first night.

He takes her picture with him on missions and likes the kiss she pressed on the back of it along with the lyrics to the last bit of Paper Moons as part of their inside joke. Bucky is a skeptic and no matter the proof to what she envisions, he still does not put much stock on her words.

He didn’t believe her that he’d survive this long, he is only about ten missions away from the holy number and she tells him she sees him surviving the war. Bucky believes that part after Regensburg, tells her himself as he grieves for his friends who didn’t make it.

“I wanted to feel something that night and now I think I feel something else tonight.” He admits as they sit under the tree, and he wraps his sheepskin over her shoulders even if he is the one not used to English autumns.

Gale may think the sheepskin ugly, but Diane likes the comfort of it, of John’s aftershave and cologne, the faint smell of his own sweat and even the detergent used to wash it. It is him almost as much as he is himself.

She wears it when he lets her, once she surprised him wearing only it at their little rented room. Bucky had undone the zipper slowly and kissed every inch he freed from its confines.

She loves him, and he loves her even if he cannot make himself say it outloud…yet.

“And what is it that you feel, Major?” the witch asks loving the way he smiles at her question.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Lady Di.”

He believes her until he doesn’t.

“You have to be wrong, check your cards again.” He cannot believe her words.

Gale Cleven wasn’t gonna be shot down over Bremen. No, he couldn’t. Not Buck.

“I’m sorry, Bucky, I can’t change things just because you ask.” The witch said and put away her tarot cards after a fourth reading.

He shouldn’t have believed her, why did he do this to himself? He’d never believed in this bullshit and now he won’t.

Buck was gonna live, he wasn’t going to go down in his next mission because Diane’s psychic bullshit is just a fucking paper moon.

Bucky can’t even find the words to warn Buck that night and before he knows it, he’s been given a two-day pass to London. Di offers to set him up at her parents’ house since they’re not there, but he refuses because he cannot even look at her without being angry.

He can’t even tell who he is angry at, her, her cards or fucking God himself.

She gives him her address either way and after giving up trying to forget her with the Polish Widow who didn’t care he had his Lady Di; Bucky finds himself watching the bombs from the window in her bedroom.

Bucky Egan doesn’t wake until noon and calls from the telephone on the desk of Thomas Shelby MP OBE praying to God Diane was wrong.

“Norfolk 7322, please.”

Diane finds him crying and raging against God for taking Buck.

“I’m gonna kill those fuckers, for Gale.” He vows as he breaks apart in her arms.

“He’s not dead, you’ll see when you meet him again.” The witch assures him and he is too out of it to even consider she might be right, just as she was before. “I said he’d be shot down, not killed, Bucky.”

She stays in London while he returns to duty a day earlier than planned.

When packs her picture for his next mission, he reads what she wrote on the back of it on his birthday last month.

It’s phony, it’s plain to see

How happy I would be

If you believed in me

Bucky leaves without asking her how Munster will go and asks Crosby to give her his sheepskin for him.

When Diane saw what would happen in Munster, she could not speak.

He wouldn’t die, no, she’d feel it in her heart if he was, but knowing he wouldn’t be coming back from this mission has her doubting her own visions.

She loves him, loves him so deeply she cannot imagine a life without him in it. They’d joked about marriage, about he’d take his Lady Di and marry her in Manitowoc in the same parish he went to with his parents all his life, how they’d be Mr. and Mrs. Egan and have a daughter named Rosemary Gale after Rosemary Clooney and Gale Cleven because Gale’s a girl’s name.

Harry Crosby comes to give his condolences and Bucky’s jacket at her doorstep, but she refuses to accept his word that he’s gone.

“Bucky’s not dead, he’ll come back here. I’ve seen it.” She lies as she takes Bucky’s sheepskin and cries herself to sleep in it while humming ‘It’s only a paper moon.’

Lady Di keeps herself busy working as a nurse as if she were possessed until a letter from a prisoner of war camp in Germany arrives written by John Clarence Egan himself.

‘I need a new picture, Lady Di, I believed in you so much I lost it in a German field’, he writes and adds, ‘Buck says hello.’

Diane sends her picture with the same words as before and sprays enough perfume on her letter for it to still smell of her when it arrives several months after it should’ve been.

And because he believes her now, she works with the Crown and the Americans to keep him and his comrades safe until they’re brought home.

‘If you can stay put for me, I’ll let you take me to Manitowoc, Wisconsin, Bucky,’ she writes on the postscript of her letter to him. In the same letter she makes sure to name drop her dear friend Lilibet Windsor, the Princess of Wales, who agrees to send her regards if it means he and the rest of the prisoners are not executed by the Nazis.

“You were right, I should’ve picked the ring instead of the locket.” Bucky tells his friend who’s gone distracted by his Marge’s letters.

“Can’t be your best man nor you mine if we have a double wedding, Bucky.” Gale jokes after sharing his good news.

"Our girls deserve their own day, don’t they?” he laughs with renewed strength knowing he and Buck aren’t going to die in this shithole.

He consults with his witch, plans accordingly and so far everything goes well even if they have to wait until she finds what day is best for their escape.

When they escape on January 27th of 1944, he is humming Paper Moon to himself and tells Buck that’s going to be the first dance he and Mrs. Egan will dance at their wedding.

Bucky’s not been a whole day back on Thorpe Abbotts when he finds her waiting in only his sheepskin and the locket at their hotel room singing Paper Moon with two glasses of champagne.

She sings beautifully, she’d be a star if she wanted, but she’s perfectly happy as she is, as the soon to be Mrs. John Egan.

He’s bought the ring, a silver one to match the locket with moons carved all around it. Inside it says the same words as her picture.

“Only if you ask me nicely, Major.” She whispers knowing everything with those pretty eyes of hers.

John Clarance Egan elopes with her the moment the ring is done, on February 14th, 1945, with Buck as his best man and Diane’s best friend who came all the way from Margate, as her maid of honor at the dance hall with the chaplain officiating and the Valentine’s Day dance serving as their reception.

“I heard you sing, Bucky.” Allie Solomons asks, having only heard of him through letters and Diane’s words.

“Like a donkey in a church choir,” his wife grins and he took the bait.

“Pick a song, sweetheart, and I’ll show you.”

[1000feetunder]

Entry Number 13

' This entry is for myself. I just wish to gets this out of my head.

I've been trying to rest recently. But each time I'm able to sleep I keep having the same dream over and over again.

And I hate it.

It starts off diffrently each time, but I'm always here. In the Blacksite. Just a diffrent location. The most recent one started inside Sebastians Shop.

I always start alone. No matter what. And I go looking for my friends. I find them. All together.

And I hear yelling behind me. And we all run. UrbanShade MTF member chase us. We're escaping.

We make it to where the Crystal is held. I go to collect it.

One them get's shot. It's been diffrent each time, but I've counted.

Sebastian is the most likely one to get shot. Lobby being shot twice, and pAInter only once.

I collect the crystal and we all run.

We somehow get split up, and I'm left alone again as I run. I hear gunshots and yelling. I hear Spencer. And I run quicker.

And then there's a moment of silence. I hear a call out in the water.

A whales song.

[ Tears stain the paper before the writing continues. ]

I ignore it.

I make it to the sub bay, only to find my friends there.

Lobby is hurt, defending the other two.

pAInter is being held by Sebastian. Both of them are hurt. pAInter might be dead. I never got close enough to see. But they're all within the sub.

And there I stay, Crystal in hand. The only thing blocking me are those guards. To many for me to fight off.

The others spot me, and I hear them yell.

Everything between then and what happens is always so blurry.

I haven't been able to make sense of it yet.

But some how I get shot. And I end up in the water, the crystal sinking quicker than I am.

And I hear it again.

The whale song.

And I see it below me.

Two tentacles reaching out for me as if I were it's prey. I reconize them.

That of the giant squid.

And I reconize the whale call.

A sperm whale.

Two giants of the deep. Both prey and predator to the other.

And that's when I realize what is happening.

This is a Whale Fall.

And I won't be surviving it. '

[applepiesandalibis]

A post of some lesser known paper chase/nighty nite/John Congleton perfomances that I'd really like to share!!!

1. The pAper chAse at the barn in Moundsville, WV. Idk about the date of this concert, pretty sure it was October of 1999? The video was posted in Feb of 2011 though

Songs:

Where Have Those Hands Been?

Isn't She Something?

These Things Happen

Incudes the band members in bunny ears and John yelling at Bobby Weaver

Link

2. John Congleton and The Nighty Nite at Chain Reaction in Anaheim, CA (08/22/2016)

Songs:

Just Lay Still

Who Could Love You, Lucille?

Until It Goes

The Forest Fire

The White Powerless

The Mass Hysteria

Your Temporary Custodian

Animal Rites

Link (it's a playlist)

I know some of these videos aren't so unpopular, but some barely have any views and that's sad. I like this concert a lot

3. The pAper chAse at Lola's in Fort Worth, TX (10/16/2009)

Songs:

The Forest Fire

There's two recordings of it available

First link Second link

4. The pAper chAse at Mercury Lounge, somewhere in 2009 I believe

Songs:

The Forest Fire

Link

5. The pAper chAse at Monk's in Abilene, 2008

Songs:

I Tried So Hard to Be Good

A Little Place Called Trust

We Know Where You Sleep

The Kids Will Grow Up to Be Assholes

Link

6. The pAper chAse at Beep! Beep! Showcase at db's Utrecht, 2008

Songs:

Ready, Willing, Cain and Able

Link

7. The Nighty Nite @ the Parish

Songs:

A Tale Told by an Idiot

Canaries in the Coal Mine

Link

This one is literally amazing. Two of my favorite nighty nite songs and I just recently found out about this recording!!!!

8. The Paper Chase @ the Casbah (03/25/2010)

Songs:

the common cold (the epidemic)

the laying of hands the speaking in tongues (the mass hysteria)

Link

9. The Nighty Nite @ the Summit. Somewhere in 2011 I believe

Songs:

My Heart (unreleased)

Love is Not All You'll Need (unreleased)

Canaries in the Coal Mine

Link 1 Link 2 Link 3

This one is pretty rare! Took me a long time to find the unreleased tracks and I loooove them

10. The Paper Chase @ The Adventure Club (11/28/2004)

Songs:

Your Ankles to Your Earlobes

Said the Spider to the Fly

Christmas in Washington (Steve Earle Cover)

Link 1 Link 2 Link 3

11. The Paper Chase @ The Adventure Club (10/22/2006)

Songs:

We Know Where You Sleep

So, How Goes the Good Fight

You Will Never Take Me Alive

Link 1 Link 2 Link 3

12. One more session from The Adventure Club. No idea about the date though? Maybe these two aren't even from the same set, but I'm just gonna put them together.

Songs:

Ever Since the Turn

Now We Just Slowly Circle...

First link Second link

These three recordings only have audio, but I still think they're worth mentioning

Probably will be updated if I find more, but those are my faves for now!!