#the rain made what opening songs I saw so cool

[raindrop-21]

I have no idea how to write this but(it's under a cut bc it got long with me ranting):

During a ritual I went to during the Reimpera tour, it was raining(there was a hurricane happening in the states below the one I was in). We got like 2½-3½ songs from the opening band before they had to shut it down due to the stage flooding(it was an outdoor venue that claimed "rain or shine"). There was thunder and lightning happening so we were (very rudely) made to go back to our cars(the venue staff treated concert-goers like cattle).

We waited 3-4 hours soaking wet in our car, waiting for updates from the venue and Ghost on FaceBook. We got shit updates once an hour from the venue before the whole show was canceled because the venue didn't have the right protection for the band's equipment, and the equipment got fried. In the morning, there was a very apologetic post on (almost) all of Ghost's social medias.

I heard somewhere that Tobias was very irate with the venue staff backstage.

So now. To the writing idea, I'm unsure how to write:

Copia yelling at the venue staff for not getting proper equipment coverage and ruining the equipment, and treating the fans like shit.

[itaipava]

— f1 boys falling asleep on you.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

trying to sleep at an ungodly hour after returning home from a night out; still feeling giddy from the rush and excitement of the night as you both get ready for bed. he hugs you from behind and rests his head on your shoulder as you brush your teeth, almost falling asleep right there. after you’re done, you crawl into bed together, saying “goodnight” for the thousandth time, but neither of you closing your eyes as you gaze happily at each other with soft giggles and bright smiles amidst yawns. sleepy and a little tipsy, but too in love with the moment and each other to want to fall asleep, but inevitably doing so with happy sighs as he pulls you closer to him, with his face in your neck and intertwining your legs.

˒ ⌕ GEORSE RUSSELL

he always says he wants to do a lot of things with you when he gets home to make up for the time he was gone, but as soon as you settle in to watch that new movie you were looking forward to watch, he falls asleep. you look at him and smile, gently placing his head on your lap. you stroke his hair as he sleeps peacefully. but he ends up waking up in the middle of the movie, and starts asking questions like "what happened to him?" while lazily pointing at the character and, as soon as you finish talking, he dozes off again, even though he promised himself that he would stay awake.

˒ ⌕ SEBASTIAN VETTEL

you woke up early, but you didn't want to disturb his sleep, so you tried to get out of bed as quietly as possible. you sat up and stretched, but before you could actually get up, you felt his arm around your waist, pulling you against him. you smiled, and tried to tell him that you needed to get up, but he was too busy using your lap as a pillow to even hear you.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

he had been trying to sleep alone for a long time, but he couldn't even with the gentle sound of the rain outside. you open the bedroom door and he smiles when he sees you; he lifts the blanket next to him, a silent invitation for you to go lie down with him. you smile and lie down, silently he pulls you to him, holding you lovingly. you stroke his hair and he closes his eyes, enjoying your affection and the warmth of your body. and when you least expect it, he is in a deep sleep while holding you.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

you were lying together on the couch in the living room, savoring the warmth and the cool breezes that came in through the sunny window; you admired how the sunlight fell beautifully on each other's features as he held you close to him. there was soft music playing in the background as you hummed along to the melody or said things like "oh, i love this song!" which always made him smile. wordless but meaningful looks of "i love you" to each other. suddenly he stopped running his fingertips over your body and, looking at his face, you saw that he fell asleep holding you, feeling safer than ever.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

you and him love to talk before bed; it’s an unspoken routine in your relationship. you talk about your days, your thoughts, your worries, about that squirrel you saw on the street, anything and everything; your voices only slightly above whisper, trying not to disturb the quietness of the night but failing to do so when laughter comes over you both. he hugged your waist and put his face in your neck while you spoke, but at a certain point you felt his heavy breathing and, when you looked at him, you saw him sleeping. you smiled affectionately and gave him a kiss on the corner of his mouth, which made him pull you even closer to him.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

after he takes you to a great restaurant in the city, you arrive home and rest on the couch while talking about anything that comes to mind. he sighs deeply, and puts his head on your shoulder, looking at his face, you notice how sleepy he is when the food coma kicks in. you smile, and pull him closer to you, and that's when he settles down next to you on the couch, holding you tightly against him as he lets sleep take over.

˒ ⌕ FRANCO COLAPINTO

he comes home absolutely exhausted after a long training session. after a hot shower, he lies on top of you, hugs your waist and puts his face in your neck, feeling your warmth and your scent. at that moment, he feels like he is in heaven. you gently stroke his back while asking him how his day was, but he is so tired that he just mumbles something softly and falls asleep on you.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

you woke up earlier than usual, and you couldn’t fall asleep again but you didn’t want to leave his side; quiet moments with him are so rare, so you wanted to make the most of them. he also wakes up, but only to pull you towards him even more, using you as a pillow. you smile and stroke his hair, which makes him sigh and fall asleep again, without a care in the world.

[hoshifighting]

how do you think each member of svt would take the girl they like out on their first date together? tooth aching sweetness kinda fluff pls 😭

seventeen x first date

seungcheol would probably take you to a nice rooftop restaurant. he’s the type who loves a good view, and he’d want you to see the city lights while you two chat over dinner. “do you like it up here?” he’d ask, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he watches your reaction. something is calming about the way he makes everything feel relaxed, even if it’s your first date. you’d find yourself easily opening up to him, laughing as he shares stories from his trainee days. he’d reach out, taking your hand in his, giving it a light squeeze. “let’s come back here again sometime.”

jeonghan wouldd suggest a day at a cozy café followed by a stroll through a retro neighborhood. “i know this great place with amazing pies,” he’d say, his eyes lighting up. you’d spend hours just talking. when you least expect it, he’d pull you into a cute little shop, insisting on buying you a small trinket/charm. “something to remember today by,” he’d grin. the day would end with a sunset walk, and as you sit on a park bench, he’d lean in close, whispering, “today was perfect, don’t you think?” he would fold when you agree.

joshua would plan something thoughtful, like a picnic in the park 🤧. he’d arrive with a basket full of homemade sandwiches and fruit, looking proud of his efforts. “i made these myself!” he’d say, a hint of shyness in his voice. you’d find a quiet spot under a tree, spreading out a blanket and just enjoying each other’s company. as you eat, he’d strum a guitar, softly singing a song he wrote—no sunday morning rain is falling. there’s a gentle sweetness in the way he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel warm inside.

junhui would suggest a trip to an amusement park. not that he reaaaally likes it, but he saw so many couples the last time he went that he can't help but think it's something romantic. “let’s see who screams the loudest?” he’d ask. you’d spend the day hopping from ride to ride. you’d laugh a LOT, especially when you both try and fail to win a giant stuffed animal. “we’ll get it next time,” he’d promise—but makes a trade with the seller to buy the teddy bear. he's not letting go of your hand. as the night falls, you’d ride the ferris wheel, the city spread out below.

soonyoung would take you to a dance studio for a fun and unconventional date. “i’ll teach you some moves,” he’d say excitedly, dragging you along. he’d be so eager, enthusiastically guiding you through the steps. you’d laugh together, stumbling over your feet, but he’d never let you feel embarrassed. “you’re doing great,” he’d encourage, his smile bright. after dancing, he’d take you for a casual meal at a street food stall, insisting you try his favorite dishes. he would break some dancing limietance your had, and you would leave the date FULL after the agitated dance session. “let’s dance again soon,” he’d say, a hopeful look in his eyes.

wonwoo would opt for a bookstore date, a good excuse to watch you over the book he’s going to read. he’d take you to a quiet little shop with shelves full of hidden gems. “pick out a book for me,” he’d say, curious to see your choice. you’d wander around, exchanging recommendations and sharing your favorite reads. there’s something personal about the way he listens, genuinely interested in what you have to say. afterward, he’d suggest grabbing coffee, and you’d sit in a cozy corner, talking about everything and nothing.

woozi would take you to an upscale restaurant, a place with faint lighting and a sophisticated ambiance. it's not really his scene, but he wants to make the night special. he shows up looking effortlessly cool, holding a small box. “i thought you’d like these,” he says, handing you a delicate bracelet from a luxury brand—that matches his. the evening is filled with soft conversations and gentle smiles. he watches you carefully, making sure you’re comfortable and happy. the whole night, you can’t help but feel a bit spoiled, but in the finest way possible.

minghao plans something unique and spiritual i think? he takes you to a meditation garden, a peaceful place filled with nature and tranquility. “i thought we could try something new together,” he says, leading you to a quiet spot. you sit together, practicing mindfulness and enjoying the serenity. after the meditation, he suggests a quiet walk. the date feels deep and meaningful, a chance to connect on a different level, you know? you leave feeling refreshed and enlightened, with a new perspective on things for sure.

mingyu a hands-on experience. he takes you to a cooking class, knowing you love trying new things. “let’s see who’s the better chef,” he teases, as you both don aprons. the class is fun and interactive, with lots of banter and friendly competition. mingyu is surprisingly good at it, but he’s also super sweet, helping you out when you struggle. you end up making a delicious meal together, and he insists on sharing it with everyone in the class.

seokmin has a flair for the dramatic, so it’s no surprise when he takes you to a theater. he’s picked a play he knows you've been dying to see. before the show starts, he surprises you by taking you backstage. “i know the lead actor,” he grins, as you meet the cast and crew. his enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself laughing and joking with everyone. during the play, he sneaks glances at you, gauging your reactions. it’s clear he’s put a lot of thought into this, and the way he beams every time you smile makes your heart flutter.

seungkwan plans an exciting date at a karaoke bar. he NEEDS to show off his vocal skills. “i’m going to impress you!” he says with a cheeky grin. he picks all the classics, and you both sing your hearts out, cheering each other on. he’s energetic and confident, making the whole experience feel like a concert. between songs, you joke and flirt a lot. it’s a night of fun and music, and you can’t help but feel drawn to him, you two would probably end up making out on the karaoke’s sofa with the mics in hand as the instrumental sounds behind.

vernon would take you to a comedy show, because he loves to see/watch you laughing. “you’ll love this comedian,” he’d say, grinning. you’d spend the evening laughing until your sides hurt, and he’d be just as entertained by your reactions as the show itself. after the comedy club, he’d suggest a late-night snack run, and you’d end up at a 24-hour diner, sharing fries and milkshakes. “you’ve got a great laugh,” he’d compliment. “i had so much fun tonight... with you.”

chan would want to do something active and fun. he’d take you to an arcade, eager to show off his gaming skills. “i’m gonna beat you at every game,” he’d tease, challenging you to a friendly competition. you’d play everything from racing games to air hockey, laughing and teasing each other. he’d win you a stuffed animal from a claw machine, proudly handing it to you. “for you,” he’d say with a grin. after the arcade, he’d take you to a casual burger joint, where you’d talk and joke around.

[moonreader1010]

Pac: how people perceive you<3

Note: 1. take what resonates.

2. Take a deep breath. Ask your spirit guides to help you choose the pile and choose the one that calls out to you.

3. Pictures used are from Pinterest. All rights go to the original owner.

Pile 1:

She'll put you in a trance at first glance

Don't wanna fall in love, but I'll take a chance

straight up I got vision of this one picture that I saw on Pinterest a while back. It was a rabbit in an armour with some sort of spikey weapon and it said “soft but not available for mistreatment”. Very do not harm but take no shit vibes. I see major cancer placements. You can tame anyone. I keep getting beauty and the beast vibes. Like, you know how to tame people. People listen to you but I don’t see and boss employee kind of relationship but more like a goddess and her followers kind of relationship. I see you being hurt in the past. Was growing up difficult baby? Did someone hurt you? I wanna hug you right now. You are an inspiration. You are a warrior and you are so so strong and wise. I feel like we are getting away from the actual question of the reading but I feel like someone wanted me to tell you this hahah. So onto the question that how people perceive you, I think they can tell that you have been through something that changed you. Made you stronger and wiser. People definitely see you as someone who will nail the trope of “taming the bad boy” haha. But ofcourse remember that it’s not your job to fix anyone and I feel like you already know this. People see you as someone who dances in the rain, confident (lots of cards show me the theme of confidence actually), hopeful. They also see you as this boss lady (gender neutral). They see you as someone who is busy building empires.

Additional: student, business, garden, summer dresses, flowers.

Song: Dangerous woman by Wieland

Pile 2: You wear that cast so cool

And I'm in awe

A face like you've never seen before

Around

people see you as someone who is constantly moving(it could be traveling or you know, making moves generally) you are not a still entity. You are always doing something. People see you as someone who is very private and mysterious. It’s hard to know anything about you. Moon seems to be really significant for some reason. People also see you as someone who cuts people of very quickly. No bullshit kinda person. You can deal with absence but won’t take disrespect. You are an achiever. People see you as someone who is constantly trying to learn something. You are open to experiences. You walk away from a situation that doesn’t serve you and that’s what many people admire about you. Young hear and old soul is what I keep hearing. People feel like they can come to you for help and also see you as someone who is very sensible.

Additional: wood, earth signs, moon, 3, heart on your sleeves, white flowers, driving far away.

Songs for you: Ever (foreign sleep) by team sleep.

Pile 3: Baby, this is what you came for

Lightning strikes every time she moves

And everybody's watchin' her

But she's lookin' at you,

people see you as someone who works really hard. They see you as someone who is very responsible and completes tasks like a pro. They see you as a leader. Is acts of services you love language? People feel like they can always count on you. You are always there to help people. You honestly are a great leader you know? Some people seem to see you as a rival. A competition. You make people competitive pile 3. People see you as someone who is very faithful. You are almost untouchable to people. You seem to be on an entire different level that they cannot reach. People see you as someone who is smart and has a way with words. You seem like someone who would do great in negotiations and business exchange lol.

Additional: ships, sea, commerce, green,

Song for you: this is what you came for by Calvin Harris and Rihanna. (Very Rihanna energy lol)

[mingisongs]

more sleep ⋆• .𖥔 * ˚

ateez! YUNGI; mingi x fem!reader x yunho ᡣ𐭩

summary; waking up next to your boyfriends ♡

pairing; song mingi x jeong yunho x fem!reader

wordcount; 825

tags; comfort, fluff

warnings; somewhat nsfw

notes; written while having a severe endo flare LOL, sorry for mistakes •_•”

i awoke to the sound of rain hitting the windowsill above my headboard. the room was dim, the air cool, the smell of the rain having made its way through the walls. my entire body was overcome with a sense of peace i could feel throughout my bones. my heart was cloaked in euphoria, floating in the middle of my rib cage.

my back was against the plush sheets, my position oblique to the outline of the mattress. the duvet rested on top of my hips, the temperature just enough that i wasn’t to hot or too cold. it felt perfect.

the right side of my body was flush against mingi’s left. my arm rested against his torso, my head resting against his shoulder, turned to face his. as i opened my eyes, i was met with his side profile, succumbed to a deep sleep. his plump, pink lips were parted slightly, quiet breaths with the rise and fall of his chest. the blankets were low enough that they exposed his bare upper body, clad only in jammy pants. his arm was around my shoulders, somehow still in the same position we’d fallen asleep in. i snuggled closer to his warmth.

on the other side of mingi was yunho. he was lying on his side, mostly turned onto his stomach. his head was on the pillow rather than mingi, but his arm was draped over mingi’s stomach, fingers resting against the curve of my waist. he would twitch occasionally in his sleep, causing his fingertips to graze my skin. his hands were a bit smaller than mingi’s, yet still just as loving and gentle, and having them on me in any way set off an electrical storm inside my body.

mingi took a deep breath in his sleep, readjusting, pulling me closer. this caused yunho to stir as well, yet he moved only to rest his cheek on mingi’s shoulder, and tighten his arm around mingi’s tummy.

i realized mingi wasn’t fully sleeping, as he turned his head to press a kiss to yunho’s forehead. butterflies erupted in my belly. sharing a bed with these two was more than easy. i was so fucking in love.

i turned on to my side, still facing mingi. his eyes were closed yet he was failing to pretend, because the corners of his mouth were resisting a smile.

i left a gentle kiss on his jaw right below his ear. i went to kiss his lips, but he caught me off guard by leaning up and meeting me halfway, causing me to giggle in surprise.

“can you guys quiet down,” yunho groaned. “i’m trying to sleep.”

i reached out, tracing my thumb on yunho’s cheek. “sorry, sleepyhead.”

he hummed contently. “it’s raining. looks like we have to stay in bed all day.” this caused mingi to laugh.

i sighed. “what little time i get with you two, i’d love to spend every moment we have together in bed like this.”

mingi squeezed me gently. “me too.”

“then we can do that, princess,” yunho said, lifting his hand from mingi’s skin to place it on the side of my face. i leaned up into his touch. “whatever you like.”

“i’d come over there and kiss you,” i said. “if i wasn’t still half asleep.”

“who’s the sleepyhead now?” mingi asked teasingly.

“you’re the biggest sleepyhead here,” yunho replied, and i giggled as mingi playfully nudged yunho.

they looked at each other for a moment, and i watched their eyes. it was endearing, gentle. though i sometimes saw a fire ignited behind their pupils for one another, this was something soft. a home they’d built for one another rooted deep inside themselves.

for a moment, i forgot i was present there with them.

“i love you,” mingi said quietly, his deep voice still raspy with sleep, before nudging yunho with his nose. yunho’s eyes fluttered closed, he smiled as mingi kissed his forehead once again.

mingi turned to me. “and i love you.” his plump lips met mine, and he kissed me with the same love i had seen him give silently to yunho. slow, slow kisses. i pushed my hips closer to his from the side, trying to get some sort of friction, and yunho’s ran his fingers against my belly. my brain nearly shorted out.

“i love you both so much,” i whispered, my lips still touching mingi’s.

mingi laughed, pulling away. “it’s so early.” forehead kiss. “i need more sleep.”

yunho traced his knuckle beside my belly button. “and we’ll give you lots of attention when we can keep our eyes open.”

i nodded. “okay.”

i settled back into my spot curled up against mingi, so close my lips against his throat, and yunho rested his hand on my waist. we were both snuggled up so close to mingi it was a wonder he could even breathe. but he looked so happy.

and i felt euphoric. ♡

[gardnhee]

bite me - P.SH

♰ warnings. blood sucking, cursing, very suggestive, vampire sunghoon (yum), yn is obsessed with his fangs, sunghoon gets realllll whiney later on, use of “doll”, reader is lwk weird, intentional lower case, switch!reader, switch!sunghoon- lmk if i missed anything !

♰ vampire!sunghoon x afab!reader

♰ song rec. bite me - enhypen

♰ wc. 3.1k

the soft patter of rain on your window makes you sigh as you sit in bed, skillfully reading a book. with a soft smile, you flip the page, snuggling into the blankets as your back rests against the headboard.

you eye the moon, a cool contrast to the dim light emanating from your lamp. with a low hum, you close the book, setting it on your nightstand as you yawn.

you stretch and groan, eyes snapping to the door after hearing a faint thump outside.

what the fuck?

in a matter of seconds, you’re standing in front of said door, shaky hand hovering over the knob. you jerk back after a louder thud echoes throughout your apartment. frantically looking around, you scramble to grab something. anything.

you somehow end up with scissors, eyebrows knitting together as you stare at the sharp object; this will do, you shrug in acceptance. another sound abruptly stops your train of thought, determined eyes now glaring at the door. in a swift motion, you swing it open, scanning the cozy apartment.

are those…scratching sounds?

you try to adjust to the darkness as you walk through your living room, fingers wrapped tightly around the scissor handle, metal tip facing up.

you realized that the more you walked, the more anxious you became, so you opted to close your eyes and stand still, pin-pointing exactly where the sound was coming from, something the shuffling of your slippers wouldn’t allow before.

you open your eye, slowly opening the other as you turn to the balcony, tip-toeing to the door. “so this is where the scratching is coming from?” you mutter, depositing the scissors on the table to your right. you slide your index finger and thumb through the blinds, only to be met with…nothing. there was absolutely nothing outside.

you tsk, annoyed now that you realize you left your comfort for no fundamental reason. before you could make your way back to the bedroom, faint scratching caught your attention again, making you stop dead in your tracks.

you muster up the courage, huffing as you finally open the balcony door, cold wind smacking you in the face. you continue to glance along the floor, eyes widening when you make eye contact with…a bat. a fucking bat.

its fur was jet black, wings neatly tucked into its body as it seemed to be shaking, blinking up at you so innocently. you weren’t exactly scared, in fact, you thought it was cute. you tilt your head down at it, smiling softly.

“what’re you doin’ out here in the cold? you’re so cute!” you kneel down, falling back as black smoke engulfs the small mammal.

“what the-?”

are those … shoes? pants?

where did the bat go?- “oh my god!” you scream, reaching for the door with urgency and slamming it shut, taking several steps back as you bump against the counter.

that…that was a man. a man standing in your balcony. “holy hell..” you breathed, one hand on your chest and the other tangled in your hair. if you weren’t afraid before, you definitely are now.

“excuse me?” a deep voice rang in your ears, making you flinch, hand flying up to your mouth.

“please let me in…it’s cold.”

“who - what - the hell…are you!” you exclaim, staring at the tall silhouette that reflected against your blinds, gulping as cold sweat made its way down your forehead.

“my name is park sunghoon. now please let me in, i’m freezing.”

“no, go away!”

“just…for tonight. i promise i won't hurt you.” the voice on the other end implored. you saw as he rubbed his arms, possibly to get rid of the chills. you weighed your options, biting your lip as you fidget with the hem of your shirt.

“i don’t know i…” you felt bad, yet letting a random man into your house was against everything you believed in.

you sighed in disbelief, walking over to the door and cracking it open. you nearly gasped; he was handsome. very, very, handsome. you couldn’t fathom it.

sunghoon cleared his throat, his deep red eyes staring you down. “may i come in?” he rumbles in a low, drool-inducing tone.

“i…yes, of course, come in. sorry-!” you stumble over your words, chuckling in both hesitance and nervousness.

you move aside, inviting him in with a warm smile, one that wasn’t reciprocated - let alone acknowledged. you squint skeptically, locking the door to prevent the cold breeze from fully storming your apartment.

“there’s no point in being skeptical now, i’m already in your house.” he says matter of factly, studying his surroundings with his hands behind his back.

your eyes widened.

what?

sunghoon chuckled, “hey, calm down. i promised i wouldn’t hurt you, didn't i?” he says, finally turning to you.

“i intend to keep my promise.”

you gulp, smiling awkwardly as you nod. he grabs the corners of his collar, looking at you before continuing, “may i get comfortable?” once again, you nod, standing there like a statue, lips pursed.

sunghoon takes off his suit, hanging it on a nearby coat hanger you had conveniently placed in a corner.

“why are you here? i mean…why my apartment?” you blurt, taking the stoic individual aback.

“well, i was flying-“ his eyes travel to you as you give him a blank stare, registering what’s currently unfolding before you.

“you’re a fucking-!” realization crashed into you like a wave.

“vampire. yes.” sunghoon nods, untying his corset, or at least attempting to.

you peer at him, long nails struggling against the knots as he grunts, another prominent lump forming in your throat.

“anyway, i was flying and as you can see…” he juts his chin towards your living room window, emphasizing his point, “the storm knocked me into your balcony.” you nod, letting him know you’re listening.

“and so i thought, ‘hey, why not wait till the rain dies down?’” sunghoon nods to himself, “sorry if i’ve bothered you.” he sheepishly chuckles, bowing momentarily.

“no no! it’s no problem really!…” you wave your hands in a frenzy, shaking your head violently as you beam.

fuck handsome, this man is absolutely mouthwatering. fangs poking into plush lips, charcoal black hair a stark contrast to his pale skin, illuminating under the moonlit night.

“excuse me?”

“yes! sorry.” you focus back on his face.

sunghoon smiles, “you mind?” he walks to you, back now facing your astonished face.

“sure but…” you took a sly look over his shoulder, staring at the side of his face. he raised a brow, head tilting slightly, “never untied a corset before?” you bite your lip, gazing down at the corset.

“it’s okay, i’ll show you.” sunghoon grabs your hands with his cold ones, making you yelp.

“sorry, can’t really help it…”

“it’s okay. no worries.” you gape at his back muscles, the way they move under his white clad shirt…if only you could just take a bite-

“so then you loop your fingers through this part right here,” instructed sunghoon, tapping the knot; you obediently followed his orders. “good, good. now, simultaneously keep doing that until the corset comes loose,” he pauses, standing straight, “you might have to pull a little, okay?” you utter a small ‘yes,’ concentration written all over your face.

“thank you.” corset now in his hand, he moves with it to your living room, placing it on the sofa as he grazes the soft fabric.

“that’s a sofa.” you inform as you see your way to him.

“i know.” sunghoon sighs, “i was human before becoming a vampire, you know?” he peeks at you, picking up on your engrossed look.

“i was bitten,” he sits, “unfortunately.”

“‘unfortunately’?” you echo, sitting beside him, “why is that?” your gaze softens, holding his fiery eyes.

“eternal youth, immortality…none of that is always good. i mean, i have to drink human blood in order to live.” sunghoon plops back into the soft cushion, hair messy from all the moving around.

“that doesn’t sound too bad, though.”

he smiles, “you don’t know half of it.”

you shrug, sitting back. “how old are you?” you ask as sunghoon’s eyes are glued to the ceiling, hand softly caressing his forehead.

“let’s see…” he whispers, counting with his slim fingers. “200…400…430 years old.” you choke, back straightening as the words processed in your mind.

“FOUR HUNDRED AND THIRTY FUCKING YEARS?!”

sunghoon bursts out laughing, “are you always cursing?” you blush, embarrassed at your sudden outburst.

“you should go to bed…” he dips his head to the side, regarding you in a quizzical manner; an unspoken question.

“yn.” you snicker, “yn ln.”

he bobs his head, “yn ln.” he repeats, sultry tone almost luring you to sleep.

“if you can’t sleep, there’s the tv!” you point to a little coffee table, “the remote is right there.” sunghoon nods, giving you a small smile before you walked off to your room.

you basically jump on your bed, quickly getting under the covers as you stare outside the window. you turn off the lamp, sighing as you close your eyes.

⋆♱✮♱⋆

the room was pitch black, a sliver of light peeked through the curtains. you frowned, you don’t remember drawing the curtains?

you sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as your ears perk up. “what is up with these sounds tonight?” you murmur, groggily making your way to the door.

the sofa was empty and you couldn’t see much, but you could definitely hear, and what you heard made you cringe.

a series of slurps and munching sounds invaded your surroundings. you sniffed, blood? perhaps meat? an exasperated gasp clawed its way out of your throat once it dawned on you.

“s-sunghoon?”

the slurping stops, so do you. the only thing obstructing your view was the kitchen counter, and honestly, you wish you’d never have to peer over it.

the pungent smell of blood made you dizzy. your hand gripped the hard surface, stomach churning in a way that’s physically impossible to ignore.

“yn?” his voice was ragged, breathless as his glistening chest heaved. the once impeccably white shirt was now stained, deep red streaks scattered throughout, greedily seeping into every piece of fabric it reached.

“what are you…?” you whisper, eyes wide as you step back. the anxious vampire was no longer coy, displaying a look of worry on his bloody face.

“i’m sorry i…” sunghoon huffed, attempting to wipe his hands on his pants, “i got hungry and i didn’t want to hurt you so i settled on animal blood..” you notice his fangs. maybe it was the dim light, or lack thereof, playing tricks on you, but they look…longer? sharper? you couldn’t quite tell, yet it…piqued your interest.

“is that blood enough?”

sunghoon shrugs, “if i drink enough, maybe i’ll be satisfied.” you tilt your head in utter fascination

“‘maybe’? don’t you want to…” you reveal more of your neck, his eyes flickered.

“no i…are you sure?”

you nodded, body speaking before your brain can string a full sentence together. your emotions changed almost immediately, you weren’t terrified, you were…aroused. you’ve always had a sick obsession with sharp objects…but this… you needed to feel them sink into your skin immediately.

you watched as his eyes glowed, tongue darting out to wet his lips. impatient as you were, you grabbed his red hands, pulling his slim figure to you.

“why?” he asks, eyeing your neck, specifically a vein. so juicy…you smelled so good…fuck.

“i want to feel them…” you brazenly admit. sunghoon blinks, blood now dripping from his chin and onto his exposed chest.

“you’re at risk of turning…”

“that’s okay.”

“yn you don’t know what-“

“just…do it.” you strain, “i’m helping you.” you tuck your hair away from your neck, giving the hesitant vampire enough access.

what are you doing?? you have no idea. this might be the last night of your life as human, but honestly… that doesn’t sound like a problem….at least to you.

sunghoon nods, gulping as he moves his mouth closer, opening as wide as he can. you nearly fall back, screaming at the pain that flourished from your neck. he wraps his arms around your waist, eliminating the gap between your bodies.

his eyes close in ecstasy, brows scrunched as your sweet blood made contact with his tongue. sunghoon whines, making incoherent sounds as he squeezes you. he’s so…touchy…you’d never expect this from him.

“fuck…sunghoon…” you wince, balling a part of his shirt into your fists, “fuck!” if it weren’t for his strong arms, you’d be on the ground by now. you feel his hands snake down your body, surprising you as he hooks them under your thighs, sitting you on one of the seats under the counter.

his fangs were still penetrating your fragile skin, you started to feel lightheaded, losing consciousness by the second. before you knew it, everything went black, only the sting that is now faintly there and the scattered blue dots that resided behind your eyelids remain.

⋆♱✮♱⋆

“yn…wake up.” your eyes snap open, a sharp breath escaping your lips. you look around in a hurry, not noticing the man before you.

you run to the bathroom, flicking the light on as you stare at your neck in the mirror. “huh?” there’s a patch covering what you assumed were two red dots. bite marks...what did you get yourself into? you flinch as sunghoon appears behind you.

“holy shit. how did you-!“ you yell, turning your body to face him.

“teleportation?” he states, raising a brow at you, “it’s common knowledge…i mean, you would know…” sunghoon sing-sings as he pulls out a book.

the book that was on your nightstand…he has it in his hand.

“what the hell! give it back!”

“let’s see…’he caressed my back as his teeth slowly sink into my skin’…” you try to reach for the book, to no avail as he’s - by far - much taller than you, “is this why you offered to-?” he questions with amusement.

“no!!!!” you cross your arms, “i felt bad because you looked starved.” he answers with a stretched ‘mmmhm,’ squinting his eyes as if he can see right through you.

you walk out, sunghoon following suit. “does it still hurt?” he questions, situating the book down and walking back to you. his pale fingers come up to softly brush the patch, a red dot soaking through the fabric. “no, i can’t feel it actually…” his eyes shoot up, distress oozing from them.

“what?” sunghoon hastily takes off the patch, eyes hysterically looking for something. “open your mouth.” you grimace, confusion striking your features as you comply. he feels around your top and bottom teeth, you protest as his digits feel cold in your mouth. “fuat iz it?” you manage, capturing his wrists.

“your fangs are growing in.” sunghoon steps back, wiping the excess saliva on his pants. he sits on the bed, “you’re turning into a vampire, yn.” you gleam, catching him off guard. “most people would be on the floor crying…” he announces, more to himself than to you.

“let me see your wrist.” he flips your palm upward. there was a mark. a small cross.

“what’s that?”

“‘what’s that’? isn’t this in your vampire books?”

you pout, snatching your wrist away from his grip. “you’re not funny.”

“i think i'm hilarious.” he retorts. with a scoff, you sit next to him, the soft surface denting a little more.

“it’s a marking.”

“a marking?”

“like how werewolves mark their mate…or how incubi choose their wives and make them succubi, it’s a similar process without the sex part.”

“i’m your mate?!” he nods, “in other words, you’re my wife.” you jump, unable to wrap your head around his words.

“how does that… happen?”

sunghoon stands and steps in front of you, “usually happens when there’s an attraction between a vampire and human.” he smirks at you, “you enjoyed it, didn’t you?” he taunts, making you quiver to your very core.

he continues, “i’m going to assume yes considering all those smutty books you read about vampires.” he taps his chin playfully, “didn’t know you were so fascinated with my kind.” sunghoon audibly laughs as you slap his arm.

“do you want me to lie…?” you embarrassingly turn your head, eyes sparkling.

he shakes his head, “no, no. i want you to say it to my face.” sunghoon gently grabs your chin, bending down to be at eye level with you.

“you’re attracted to me, aren’t you?” he places his hands on your lap as you nod, sunghoon smiles.

“to be frank i…i took a liking to you the moment you let me step foot in here.” he stares at you, “i tried my hardest not to acknowledge you at first, but it just…i couldn’t. i was - am - drawn to you…” you blink, cheeks heating up and heart hammering against your chest.

“you’re just so…” he tucks a stray hair behind your ear, basking in your beauty. “so utterly beautiful…” you grab his collar, smashing your lips into his. sunghoon whines in surprise, moaning when you straddle him. “you’re…you’re sitting on it…be careful” he bites his lips, pouting as you smirk, planting yourself harder on his semi hard cock.

“you just met me, and you’re already hard for me?” your smirk grows wider, and you bend down to kiss him once again. his hands fly to your hips, stifling your surprised whimper.

“that’s rich coming from someone who gets aroused by my fangs being in their neck.” sunghoon says as you pull away, leaving you open-mouthed.

“you didn’t think i could smell it? i’m a vampire, doll.” you shriek at the pet name, his divine hand cupping your now sopping cunt. “you’re so wet i can feel it through these skimpy ass shorts.”

he smirks up at you, “not so bold now, huh?”

“i-“

“shut the fuck up.” he growls, turning you over so that now he’s on top of you, “do you know how hard i’ve been trying to restrict myself? it’s so hard when you’re such a slut, wearing pajamas that leave little to the imagination.” he grabs the waistband of your shorts, letting it slap against your skin as you moan, growing even more impatient. sunghoon’s voice grew husky, lips glistening and angry red from all the making out.

his hair is disheveled, shirt hanging loosely around his shoulders. you grab his nape, moving to his neck. leaving a trail of wet kisses, he moans lowly. you harshly suck and bite his collarbone, enticing a small ‘ah’ from sunghoon.

you place your mouth by his ear, warm breath hitting his lobe as he shudders. “you say i’m a whore? fine. i’m going to fuck you until you can’t talk anymore. until the only thing on your mind is my pussy wrapping around your dick.”

sunghoon nods, “yes baby, please.” his eyes filled with desire, leaving any and all trace of critical thinking behind. with each touch and whimper, the tension builds until the room is filled with nothing but the sound of your shared passion, fulfilling every promise of pleasure made in the heat of the moment.

© GARDNHEE 2024, do not copy, modify, or upload on other platforms

♰ note. i love cockblocking yall :3 i promise a full smut fic is on the way!! also please like, comment, n reblog!! would be highly appreciated 🫶🫶

♰ huge thanks to my proofreader @heartryuu , i love you bae 🤍🤍.

♰ taglist. @lovlyrickyyy @strawbvrrie @stvrliighttt (lmk if u want to be added!)

[acaaai-t]

as the seasons change

[fem! reader x college au! xiao]

cw: fluff, lots of fluff, slow burn-ish, fluff, reader gets harassed, cursing, oh did i mention fluff? — [long fic ahead]

wc: 7.3k

⤷ ❝ ft song— 《小城夏天》 ❞

“rainfall, a storming encounter— spring.”

"Do you remember the night we first met? Or well, at least when I first met you?" you asked, snuggling deeper into the warmth your blanket, and your partner, provided.

Xiao smiled and pulled you closer. "I could never forget.”

>>—<<

The night was still young, light rain pattering against the windows. It was hard to tell if the sun was still up or not, for the dark clouds covered everything. It was only you left, still clearing out the store, handling the remaining few customers here and there.

“Your hot americano, sir,” you said, handing the customer their ordered drink. “Would you like a bag with it?”

“No, I would like your number with it though. Say, you’re single, aren’t you?”

“Wh— huh?”

“Oh, come on, a charming fellow like you is still single, am I right?"

You really weren’t sure how to respond to his advancements, so you stood there, dumbfounded. “Um—”

“Why don’t you leave her the fuck alone?” the voice of a random customer cut you off.

You looked over to the whoever it was helping you deal with this man. ‘Oh shit, he’s really pretty,’ was your first thought upon sight.

The customer glared at the interrupter. “Look, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I ain’t going to listen to whatever the hell you say.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll have a fun time talking to the police,” pretty boy said, staring down at the customer. He flashed the screen of his phone, the number 9-1-1 on dial.

“You—” he stopped himself, took a deep breath, and turned his attention from pretty boy over to you. “Listen here, you bitch. Shits would’ve been so much easier if you just gave me your fucking number, yeah?”

You flinched. “I’m sorry?”

“Sorry doesn’t fucking do shit,” he yelled, lifting up his cup of coffee.

Your eyes widened. “Don’t—”

Too late.

You nearly screamed when you felt the burning hot coffee sizzle against your skin. The now empty cup rolled to the side. You hastily wipe at your face, crimson from where the coffee had made contact.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” pretty boy got up from where he was seated. The man turned to look at him.

You quickly took this opening to disappeared into the back kitchen, searching for a cold towelette to ease the burning pain. You could’ve sworn you had ascended to heaven there and then when you pressed the cool towel onto your face.

‘That feels so much better…’

A loud crash pulled your spirit back down. Keeping the towel pressed against your cheek, you made your way back to the front counter— just in time to see the customer that had harassed you flee the scene. Pretty boy stood there, arms crossed, rolling his eyes as the glass door swings shut.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” he asked the moment his eyes laid upon you.

“There’s no need,” you smiled at him. “Thanks for helping me, by the way.”

“It’s… nothing,” he adverted his gaze from you.

You finally got a good look at him. His facial features were mostly obscured by a black mask he wore, but his striking amber eyes was a prominent detail, you noticed. There was also a greenish tint to the edges of his hair and along his bangs. Peeking out from under his turtleneck, you saw a trace of some sort kind tattoo. ‘That’s hot,’ you immediately thought to yourself.

You must’ve been staring for too long, for his voice suddenly broke off your thoughts. “Can you please stop staring…” he sounded and looked flustered. Even with the mask on, you could faintly see the red of his cheeks.

“Ah, sorry…” you were quick to reply, embarrassment crawling in showing as the pink that lightly dusted your face.

The atmosphere of the cafe suddenly felt very awkward, with neither side willing to talk. You cleared your throat, hoping to break the silence. Perhaps you could treat him to a free coffee for helping you rid of that costumer. You put on a smile. Your cash register blinked red.

“Would you like a—” you glanced down at the register for just the slightest moment, then look back up, only to find the pretty boy gone. “Free coffee…” you finished.

‘Ah.’

“starfall, the sparkle in your eyes— summer”

“Oh FUCK.”

You scrambled about, hurriedly changing from the comforts of your pajamas to whatever you’d dug out from your closet.

“Why didn’t my fucking alarm go off?!”

“What the fuck?” the groggy voice of Aether mumbled.

Panic was racing though your body, you glanced at the clock as you stuffed your boots on.

8:57am

You have three minutes to spare. 180 seconds to make it from your dorm to your campus, from your campus to your lecture hall. Under most normal circumstances, you would’ve just skipped the exam altogether, but your professor just had to be a bitch and make the exam a major part of your grade— and if you wish to pass his class, you must take it.

Exam starts the moment the clock ticks 9:00, and nobody is allowed in anymore after— as your professor had specifically told the class.

“Sorry Aether!”

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you slammed the door shut and booked it.

8:58am

Two minutes was all you had left. You didn’t waste your entire high school life practicing in the track team just not make be able to make a 300-yard dash in two minutes. You can— no, you will. You will make it.

Your peripheral vision of the environment blurred together as the wind began to catch up, heart racing with every stride you take.

In your haze of sheer panic, you had failed to notice the boy you were gunning towards scrambling to move out of your way. You yelped when you absolutely bodied them. He managed to steady himself, but you on the other hand, found yourself sprawled on the concrete.

“Ow…” you muttered, rubbing your lower back regions. “I’m so sorry you see— oh it’s you!”

Pretty boy looked bewildered; his eyes trained on your figure sitting on the ground. He reached out a hand to help you up, but there was no need. You weren’t sitting for very long, for a quick glance at your watch had you up instantly.

“I am going to be late. Sorry about that,” you called out.

He stood there. “You dropped something…” he slowly said.

But you were long gone, leaving nothing but a slight breeze that tickled his cheek.

>>—<<

Just a little under a minute remaining. Your lungs felt like they were on fire. The sight of your class building was just in sight. Just a little bit more, you thought.

15…

You pulled out your student ID and swiped through the scanner, barley giving the poor machine time to unlock the door before you rammed your way through it.

11…

Scrambling up the stairs like a madman, you could care less about the student that screamed at the sight of you— going on all fours crawling up the stairs at an inhuman speed.

4…

You’ve finally made it to the third floor; your legs were uncontrollably shaking by then. The final stretch, and with the time quickly ticking away, you ran as if your life was on the line.

1…

The door to the lecture hall opened with a loud bang, echoing throughout the quiet room. Every head was turned to stare at you, even your professor stopped midway in handing out tests to look at you.

“I’m not late,” you panted, face flushed red.

You made it with barley a second to spare. The clock struck nine.

>>—<<

“Ugh, I for sure failed that exam…” Lumine grumbled, stuffing her reference papers back into her backpack. “You done organizing yet?”

“One moment…” you replied, zipping up your bag. “…okay, let’s go.”

Lumine hooked her arm around yours as the two of you exited the lecture hall. “You know when you slammed that door open, everyone jumped. I think the prof got scared too.”

“Don’t remind me. I nearly broke my back trying to get here on time… hey speaking of which. Why didn’t you wake me up?” you said.

“I tried; you were dead asleep… I accidentally woke Aether and Tao up trying to get you awake,” Lumine replied.

“Oh— ow, my back,” you muttered. The scene where you rammed into the pretty boy flashed in your mind. You suddenly frowned. “Wait a moment.”

You stopped in the middle of the hallway, realization catching up to you. “Wait a damn moment.”

“What is up with you today? Let’s go before they trample us over,” Lumine said, tugging you along as another current of students flooded your way. She led you out the school building. You winced and squeezed your eyes shut as the unbearably bright sunlight caught you off guard.

Now it was Lumine’s turn to pull you to a halt. You felt the hand grip around your arm tighten. “Ow,” you complained.

“Oh sorry— but look at that guy over there!” Lumine exclaimed, slightly gesturing over to someone.

You squinted, trying to see through the blazing glory of the sun. “Where?” you asked. “I literally can’t see, it’s so bright.”

“Over there,” Lumine hissed. “Oh, crap I think he saw us, let’s go let’s go.”

Lumine quickly began to usher you away, and you blindly followed suit. You felt her panic when she suddenly began dragging you as she sped walked away.

“Hey, wait—” a voice called out from behind.

Lumine stopped, frozen over. You turned around, using one hand to mask away the sun. “It’s you again!” you exclaimed.

“It’s me.”

“You two know each other?” Lumine quipped, turning over to look at you. Her eyes narrowed. “You aren’t stalking my friend here, right?”

“Lumine, relax. Remember what happened at work? He was the guy I was telling you about. Not a stalker.”

“Ohh— him?!”

“Why are you so shocked?”

“Need to have a word with you,” Lumine whispered, grabbing ahold of your sleeve. “Excuse us.”

She brought you over to a more secluded area— under one of the many oak trees and began talking in a hushed voice.

“Do you even have a clue as to who he is?” She lightly jabbed at your chest.

“No?” you replied. “All I know is that he’s the regular that appears and orders the same thing every day.”

“That’s Xiao?! Like the Xiao??”

“Oh, that super-hot guy that everyone loves? … THAT’S HIM?!” jaw dropped, you stared at Lumine in utter disbelief.

“Yes!” she hissed.

“Now I see why everyone was staring at him… you too.”

“How did I not know? No, how did you not know?! Your so-called protector is Xiao…”

You ran your fingers through your hair. “I didn’t think it was necessary, besides, you never asked.”

“Fuck you, let’s go back,” she said, sweetly smiling at you. You suddenly had a bad feeling. The iron grip she had on your arm slightly terrified you. Lumine led you back to where Xiao stood.

“Hi, sorry for keeping you waiting,” you said, sending Lumine a glare. She pinched you in response.

“It’s fine,” he said. “You dropped his, by the way, when you uh, bumped into me.”

“Ah.”

Bumped was too nice of a word to replace what had really happened. You laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, sorry about that, you aren’t hurt, are you?”

He shook his head. “Here,” he said, handing you your keys.

“Oh, so that’s where my keys went,” you exclaim, taking your item back. “I was wondering where it went. Thank you!” You beamed at him.

He turned his head away. It went silent again.

Lumine took one look at the sudden mood change, then gave you a sly smile, and slipped away from the scene before you could even latch on to her. You watched as she ran away, her figure gradually merging in with the other students.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked once Lumine was out of sight.

“What?”

“Your cheek, where the drink burned you. Does it still hurt?”

“No,” you said. “Thank you, again.”

“It’s nothing.”

“And uh, last time you left before I could ask you,” you said. “I would like to treat you to a cup of coffee as my thanks.”

“There’s really no need.”

“I insist. Are you free this Saturday?” you asked. “I’m [name], by the way.”

“Xiao,” he replied. “I’m free anytime.”

“Wonderful! I’ll see you this Saturday at Angels Hall then,” you said.

You hadn’t given Xiao much of a chance to speak before you left, giving him a small wave as you disappeared under the bright sunlight to look for Lumine. If you had stayed a little longer and observed a little closer, maybe you would’ve seen the furious blush that covered his cheeks that he so desperately tried to hide.

“Ooh-la-la, my goodness Xiao,” a cheeky voice came trailing up behind him. “Who’s the lucky one?”

Xiao glared at the newcomer. “Nobody, Venti.”

The short boy in green placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be hurt. “Oh Xiao, you won’t even tell me? That’s fine then, I’ll get Heizou to do it for me.” His voice had a slight tease to it.

“Shut it…”

The week passed by in a blink of an eye, and Saturday came faster than Xiao liked. You had told him the details when you— coincidentally, bumped into him while running some errands.

2:00pm, you had told him.

The clock was striking close to 1:45 and he was not ready to have a one-on-one conversation with you.

Xiao paced around his dorm anxiously, muttering incoherent nonsense to himself. His dorm mates looked at him curiously, but no word was said between them. Venti sat in one corner of the room, silently giggling to himself. He seemed to be the only one amused at Xiao’s demise.

“What’s got you so stressed out, Xiao?” one of his dorm mates asked. His green eyes glinted with interest.

“Nothing…” Xiao muttered.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me. Are you meeting her?”

Xiao froze. “How do you know? Did Venti tell you?”

“Ah, so you ARE meeting up with her.”

>>—<<

“You did WHAT NOW?!”

Aether winced at Hutao’s sudden outburst. “Tao, volume please.”

“Did she actually do it? You saw her ask him?” Hutao gripped tightly onto Lumine’s shoulders, gently shaking her. Her bright red eyes widened.

“I don’t know,” Lumine sheepishly admitted. “I ran away so they could have some time alone, you know?”

Hutao looked miserable, the way her bangs drooped down and covered her face. She dramatically sighed and spun herself onto her bed, the mattress squeaking as she did so.

You got up from where you sat and began rummaging through your tiny closet for a bag suitable for today's meeting. You couldn’t find one to your liking, so you began searching through Lumine’s closet. “Hey Lum, mind if I borrow your bag for the day? It’s the black messenger one.”

“Sure, just don’t get it dirtied,” Lumine replied nonchalantly. She crumpled up a piece of scrap paper and threw it at Aether. It landed directly on his forehead with a tiny bonk.

“Lumine!” he whined, rubbing at where the ball had hit him.

You quickly slipped on a pair of boots and opened the door. “I’ll take my leave now.”

“Have fun on your date!” Hutao cheered enthusiastically, her voice muffled. It seemed her glum mood had just dispelled.

“It’s not a date,” you groaned, exasperated.

“Make sure to tell us EVERY single little detail when you get back,” Lumine said, her eyes boring onto yours. You shivered.

“Bye [name]!” Aether waved at you, stopped short when another paper ball hit him. “Lumine! Stop throwing those at me, you’re cleaning them up.”

“Bye everyone,” you said. “Be back in an hour or so.”

>>—<<

Xiao was incredibly nervous. He really should’ve said no to your offer. But… he squeezed his eyes a shut and groaned. He couldn’t bear seeing the disappointment washing over that sparkle of joy in your eyes.

Curse his feelings. To hell with them.

“Xiao!”

Your eager voice snapped his out of his thoughts. He looked up at you, and his heart began to beat a little faster.

It’s just a friendly meetup, not a date.

“Hey.”

“I didn’t keep you waiting for too long, did I?” you asked.

Xiao shook his head. “I just got here.”

“Great, let’s go in, shall we?” you said.

He nodded.

The door to the cafe opened with a jingle, and the ambiance of the environment allured you in further. Xiao followed closely behind you, his eyes darting around nervously.

A peculiar figure caught his eye, and he wanted to die right there and then at the sight.

Venti pushed his sunglasses up further and gave Xiao a shit eating grin. Seated around him was his dorm mates, everyone was there, watching him. Heizou gave him a wink, as if to say, ‘good luck’.

How they managed to get there before Xiao is beyond him.

“You fuckers…” Xiao mumbled under his breath.

You ushered him into a seat and handed him the menu.

“Order whatever,” you told him. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

When Xiao had made sure you were gone, he set the menu down and got up, making his way over to his friend group sitting in the corner.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” Xiao hissed.

Venti took off his sunglasses and gave Xiao an innocent look. “We just so happen to be passing by, didn’t know you were coming here too.”

Scaramouche scoffed, rolling his eyes. Heizou jabbed him.

“You know damn well…” Xiao said.

“Well Xiao, you shouldn’t stay for too long. Your date should be back soon,” Venti mused.

Speak of the devil, his sharp hearing picked up the sound of the bathroom door being open— despite the loud chatter of the cafe. He gave Venti a glare before returning to his seat and picking up the menu, acting as if nothing had transpired.

You reappeared, taking a seat across from him. “Chosen what you want yet?”

Xiao skimmed through the menu and quickly picked the one that looked the most appealing. “Yeah, an Angels Blessing, whatever that is.”

You called the waitress over and placed your orders.

“You really didn’t have to,” Xiao said, watching as the waitress left for the kitchen.

His words completely crossed your mind. Caught off guard by your silence, Xiao looked back at you.

Your eyes bore into his, an unreadable expression on your face. Xiao couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from you even if he tried. Something compelled him to keep staring.

Suddenly the noises of the cafe blurred out, fading into nothing but a tiny buzz. It was just you and him, alone, sitting across from each other.

When had you become so pretty?

You smiled at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling up. “Xiao did you know?”

When did the butterflies began appearing?

“Know…” he swallowed the lump in his throat.

When did it happen? Why?

“You have really pretty eyes; they remind me of the stars glittering in the galaxy.”

Maybe that’s what had confirmed his skeptical feelings for you, because at that moment, Xiao felt like he fell in love all over again.

In love with all of you again.

“memoirs, anew remembrance— autumn”

Memories. Taken in the form on pictures, notes, anything.

Xiao could remember the time he first laid eyes on you clear as day.

It was on campus last year autumn, during the annual sports festival, where you were one of the many participants racing for the win. Xiao stood together with his friends, betting on who would come out victorious.

He wasn’t particularly interested in who won or who lost, in fact, Xiao didn’t even want to be here in the festival in the first place. It was only under the solemn promise of free almond tofu that he agreed to go.

“I’m betting on the one in green,” Venti said. “5 dollars he wins.”

“The player in purple,” Kazuha pointed to the billboard listing all the players. “How about you Scaramouche?”

“I don’t fucking know, the black one?” Scaramouche muttered.

“I’m calling the purple one,” Heizou said. “Who are you betting on, Xiao?”

“Uh, the blue one?” Xiao blurted out.

Venti clapped his hands in glee. “Wonderful! May the gods be on my side and let the green player win!”

“Venti that’s not how it works.”

>>—<<

“Nervous?”

“Of course I’m fucking nervous…” you mumbled, fidgeting with your gloves.

The pink hair girl laughed, her green eyes twinkling. “You’ll do just fine. Those months of practice won’t go to waste.”

“I really do hope so…”

“Have some faith in yourself.”

“Thank you, Fei,” you said, feeling the strings of agitation pulling away.

“Best of luck,” Yanfei said, sending you a wink just as the booming voice of the announcer came on.

It was your time to shine— or horribly embarrassed yourself.

>>—<<

“They’re finally starting!” Venti exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Oh there’s the green one!”

Xiao watched closely as each player began taking field. The player he had betted on stood in the far corner. He hadn’t expected himself to be so interested in the game. Perhaps it was because he didn’t want to lose five dollars today.

‘And the players had taken field!’ the announcer shouted.

The crowd cheered.

‘A soon to be fantastic yet suspenseful game tonight, five players competing for the title of king. Only the best out of the best in the field tonight, this game surely will be an interesting one. And now without any further delays…’

Xiao held his breath, his eyes trained on the player in blue.

‘…may the game commence.’

>>—<<

The pressure was killing you. The eyes, the cheers, the lights. Yet none of those stopped you. All those months of ruthless training— not even a single second will be left to waste away.

You dropped into a trance, body moving on autopilot. The voice of your coach commanded your every move.

It was only when the stadium erupted into screams that you broke out from your daze, startled at the sudden outburst.

‘And we have a clear winner!’ the announcer broadcasted, her voice echoing over the crowd’s cries.

Lumine jumped over the railings and ran into to the field, successfully dodging the security trying to grab her. She body slammed you and engulfed you in a tight hug. “YOU WON! YOU DID IT!” Lumine screamed. “Oh my god I’m so proud of you. See I told you you’ll win.”

I won? …

Suddenly you felt weak, head spinning, vision blurring. “I won?” you muttered.

The rest of your friend group came running towards you too, and security didn’t even bother to try and stop the two kids barreling for you. Hutao smashed into you, one hand holding a small bouquet of flower. Aether slowed to a jog and brought out a spray bottle, showering cool water on you.

“Congratulations my dear!” Hutao cheered. “We all fucking told you you’ll win this. Dinner is on me tonight.”

“You did great,” Aether said, handing you a bottle of water.

The crowd of people was still cheering for your victory, and cheered even louder when you held up your hard-earned trophy high in air for everyone to see. You laughed, a tear of happiness rolling down your cheek.

I won.

>>—<<

“Aw damn,” Venti groaned. “I was so sure green would win…”

“Xiao got lucky today,” Heizou laughed, handing Xiao a five-dollar bill. “Twenty dollars and a free dessert.”

“Say, where are we going out tonight?” Kazuha asked, also handing Xiao a five.

“Thanks…” Xiao muttered. He wasn’t even paying attention to the group's conversation. His interest was driven onto somewhere else— someone else.

For some odd reason, Xiao couldn’t stop staring at you.

Enveloped by your friends in a giant bear hug, the trophy glinting under the stadium lights, you stood there, crying and laughing.

Xiao smiled softly to himself.

The second time Xiao saw you was during the week before midterms, and at that time, you looked like a mess.

You were in Angels Hall with your friends, paper upon papers scattered all over the table. The coffee you had ordered was left to the side was half drank, long gone cold.

“I can’t,” you whined. “This is so.”

Lumine sat next to you, head buried in her arms. “I agree.”

“How about we finish this unit then we go, because I don’t think I can’t last any longer either,” Aether said. “Right Tao?”

“It’s been 2 hours, not sure how much longer I can go for,” Hutao mumbled. “I feel like shit.”

You straightened up. “Let’s go back to our dorm. None of us here wants to be here any longer.”

“I second that,” Lumine said, downing the last bits of her drink in one go.

Hutao began organizing all the papers into a neat stack before stuffing it into her bag, regardless of if it wrinkles. The waiter dropped by and handed you the bill with a forced smile.

“Let’s go,” Hutao said, getting up from her seat. Lumine was already by the exit, impatiently tapping her foot.

You set down a twenty-dollar bill and left with the rest of the group, the twinkling of the silver bell indicating your departure.

Xiao couldn’t help but feel disappointed, watching you leave.

Kazuha tapped his arm. “Xiao, are you good? You seem distracted.”

“He’s probably got his mind on someone,” Heizou said.

“Xiao? Liking someone? No way,” Venti gasped.

“Can you all just shut the fuck up and focus?” Scaramouche growled, already fed up. “Especially you, Venti.”

“Aha, sorry…”

The third time Xiao ran into you was at the coffee place you worked at. He had just randomly chosen a cafe to get a breather, a break from his work and from the rain. He had figured that this tiny cafe was the best place to enjoy his time and peace. It was during the evening, when there were just barely any more costumers coming in.

You stood behind the cashier, a bright smile plastered on your face.

“An iced black coffee,” he told you.

It hasn’t even been two minutes after he had paid, and his order was already ready to go.

“…thank you,” Xiao managed out. He quickly turned away and found a seat in the corner of the store, the tip of his ears already tinted red. There was no way he could return that bright grin of yours without turning into a tomato.

The way you smiled at him… the way you looked with your hair tucked behind your ear. In his eyes, you’re the literal embodiment of the ethereal celestial being send from the skies above. He had never felt like this towards someone ever before, this was a first for him. But all the signs made it clear— the way his heart pounds abnormally fast, the way his words get caught up in his throat, the way the butterflies flutter around in his stomach— it was all enough for Xiao to know that he had developed a crush for you.

No. He does not have a crush on you, he just merrily found you attractive. That is all there is to that.

“… single, aren’t you?”

Xiao snapped his head up, thoughts interrupted. He glanced over at the customer who was leaned over the counter, trying to act cool. The way your shoulders were tensed up, the stutters in your words— it was clear you were uncomfortable with his sudden advancements.

“Why don’t you leave her the fuck alone?” he snarled, caught off guard by his harsh tone.

What transpired afterwards was history, but ever since that incident, he has been coming in every day. By then, you had recognized Xiao as a regular in the new cafe you worked at. Every day he would appear exactly at 3:00pm, and order the same thing— a black coffee, and leave minutes before you get off your shift.

You found it endearing, how a mere stranger watched over you so protectively. Although your friends begged to differ.

“Pretty boy?” Lumine snorted. “Oh please, what if he’s going to kidnap you one day?”

“As if,” you retorted. “I trust my guts.”

“crystalline, frosted confessions— winter.”

“Black—”

“— coffee. Got it right here,” you said, holding up the cup of freshly brewed coffee. “As per usual, that’ll be 2.35$. But since you’ve been a regular here for so long, I’m cutting the price down to 1.75$.”

“Thank you,” Xiao handed you two dollars and took the coffee, where then he proceeded to sit in the same spot he had been sitting in for past few weeks.

The store was completely empty expect for Xiao. As expected, you thought. Nobody would want to be out when the weather had predicted an snowstorm. Flurries of snowflakes bend and shaped by the wind covered the outside world in a softened blanket of white.

“It’s snowing pretty hard outside,” you thought out loud, elbow resting against the marble counter. “Are you cold? I could turn the heater up.”

“It’s fine,” Xiao replied. “Why are you still working today anyways? It’s snowing really hard out there.”

“Who’s going to run the store if not me?” you laughed. “The boss offered me a pay raise if I stayed to attend the store today. Obviously, I can’t turn that offer down.”

Xiao gave a hum of acknowledgment. “I’ll drive you back to campus. It’s too dangerous for you to walk out there alone.”

His words caught you by surprise. Never would you have thought Xiao would be offering to drive you back to the dorms.

“How kind of you, thank you Xiao,” you said. “I’ll be closing down in maybe a couple minutes. Then we can go.”

Hail had slowly begun to mix in with the snow. The tiny ice fragments pattered against the window, creating a clicking sound. You began cleaning up— there wasn’t much to be done, but you still liked the store to be spotless before you leave. Setting the dried towel by the sink, you took off your apron and hung it in the back.

Xiao finished up his drink and threw the disposable cup away, making sure to grab napkins to wipe the table clean.

By the time he had cleaned his table, you were ready to leave. Xiao narrowed his eyes.

“Where’s your jacket?” he asked.

“Oh, I forgot mines,” you said, pushing open the door. You shivered at the cold blast of wind. “Left in a hurry this morning... ha-ha.”

Xiao bit down on his lips. “Can’t be helped,” he sighed, walking out the door.

You locked the store and flipped over the OPEN sign to CLOSED. “Let’s go,” you said. Your nose was already turning red.

“Here,” Xiao muttered, draping his jacket over you. “I… don’t want you to get sick.”

You felt your face heat up and your heart race. "I— thank you, Xiao.”

Xiao turned away and began walking towards his car. His heart was pounding mercilessly against his chest as he unlocked the door to his sleek black Toyota. You stood by him, snuggled up in his jacket, and stepped into the car when Xiao opened the door for you.

What a gentleman, you thought to yourself.

The car reverberated to life as Xiao turned the engine on, and with it, the heater was turned on too. A blast of warm air surrounded you, and your body relaxed, taking in the warmth.

You felt yourself slowly dozing off as Xiao drove through the storm. You weren’t even tired, perhaps it was the environment that had lulled you into a dreamlike state.

Time passed by slowly, and when Xiao had parked by your dorm, you were fast asleep. He almost didn’t want to wake you.

“Hey,” he whispered, nudging your shoulder.

“Five more minutes…” you mumbled, shrugging his hand away. “Five…”

He stifled a laugh. “We’ve arrived at your dorm. I think I see Lumine up there.”

You snapped open your eyes and sat up straight. “Where?!”

The laugh he had been keeping in bubbled out. You looked at him, eyes half lidded, confusion written all over your face.

“We’re at your dorm, let’s go, the storms getting worse,” Xiao said, getting out the car. He jogged over to the other side and opened the door before you could. “Careful there, the roads iced up.”

Your movements were sluggish as you got out from the car, grabbing onto Xiao for support. “Sorry,” you mumbled.

You felt Xiao wrap one arm around your waist to support your weight, slowly guiding you through the path and up the stairs to your dormitory. The harsh wind that slapped you in the face was enough of a wakeup call, and you fumbled to fish your keys out your pocket.

Pushing the key into the lock, you turned back to face Xiao— but he was already down the stairs by his car. He caught your eye, and you hastily gave him a wave before disappearing indoors, where the warmth awaited you. “Thank you,” you mouthed, and the door closed behind you.

Xiao stayed outside your dormitory for a little bit, watching the shadows of your friends engulfing you through the sheer curtains that fluttered around. An unmistakable feeling of heat rushed throughout his body, and he smiled to himself, then sneezed.

>>—<<

“Wait, wait, WAIT,” Lumine grabbed your sleeve and pushed you onto your bunk. “You got home awfully fast today, and whose jacket is that?”

Hutao walked out from the bathroom, a towel slung over her shoulders. “I think I’ve seen that jacket somewhere before.”

“Oh, wait isn’t that Xiao’s jacket?” Aether piped in, setting his headset aside and spinning around to face the two of you.

“That’s where I’ve seen it,” Hutao said with a snap of her fingers. “That emo guy that everyone seems to be obsessed with, I’ve seen him walking around campus several times in that same jacket.”

“That emo guy,” Aether repeated. “Isn’t he your cousin?”

“Did something happen between you and Xiao?” Lumine asked, eyes glittering with excitement.

You laughed nervously. “Well yeah, sort of? I mean, he drove me back here…”

Lumine’s eyes went wide open. “Now that’s a first. Oh, girl he definitely likes you.”

“He did it because it was snowing like crazy out there and I didn’t have a jacket with me!”

“Excuses,” Hutao snorted. “I can tell you that Xiao never lets anyone else in his car other than his close friends. I’ve asked him for a ride once and I had to beg for it, EVEN though we were cousins, and I still had to Uber back home.”

Lumine nodded. “Can confirm, I was there to witness it all.”

You shook your head. “There’s no way. Anyways! To celebrate me getting a pay raise, dinners on me tonight!”

“Wooo!” Hutao cheered, throwing on a thick puffer jacket. “Where are we off to?”

>>—<<

“Is he… sick?” Kazuha asked worriedly.

The boys gathered around Xiao’s bed, listening to his coughs and sniffles.

“Leave me be…” Xiao mumbled, pulling his blanket over his head.

“He definitely sounds sick," Heizou commented.

"This is what you get for not wearing a jacket out yesterday... I'd say it's well-deserved." Scaramouche snorted, tossing yet another packet of tissues at Xiao.

"He wasn't wearing a jacket?" Venti echoed, his loud voice traveling from the kitchen into Xiao's room. "Didn't he leave with a jacket though? The green and black one?"

Heizou raised a brow, one hand under his chin. A quizzical look appeared, followed by a know-it-all one. "I think I know where his jacket went," he said, a sly grin dancing on his lips.

"Get the fuck out of my room."

>>—<<

“Tao, whenever you’re able to, can you help me return this jacket to Xiao? I haven’t been able to find him anywhere,” you said, hanging up your bag. Xiao’s black and green jacket hung next to your school bag, a scent of fresh laundry within the fibers.

Hutao popped a piece of gum in her mouth and chewed loudly. “I honestly have no clue where he is. I can help you get in touch with the pests he hangs around though.”

“That’d be lovely,” you replied, shooting Tao a grateful smile.

>>—<<

“Hey Xiao.”

“…”

“Xiaooooo.”

Silence.

Venti sighed in defeat and turned away from Xiao’s room, instead plopping himself down on the couch. Kazuha hummed to himself as he stirred the giant bowl of batter he had in his arms— as far as Venti remembers, he was making chocolate chip cookies. A classic favorite among everyone.

Scaramouche was out of town, called back home for a family emergency. Heizou on the hand, had locked himself in one of the many study cubbies in the campus’s library to study for his upcoming exam. And Xiao— well, he’s passed out sick.

Venti sighed once again, bored out of his mind. He lazily opened up his phone and was greeted by a text from Xiao’s cousin: Hutao.

[5:14pm] Hutao >> u available rn?

>>—<<

“Hey! You must be Venti, right?” you asked, standing up from the park bench you were just sitting on moments ago.

“And you’re the girl that Xiao’s been fawning over I presume,” Venti replied, smiling.

“My name— wait what?”

“Oh, it’s nothing— hey that’s Xiao’s jacket!” Venti pointed to the black jacket draped over your arms. “Right?”

“Yeah, I was hoping you’d help me return this to him,” you said sheepishly.

Venti pressed his hand to his chest. “Oh, I would love to, but I think it’s best if you do it!”

Puzzled by his response, you ask, “Why?”

He sighed dramatically and collapsed onto the bench, feigning heartache. “Well you see, poor Xiao had locked himself up in his room, burning up a fever— and wants nothing to do with me at the moment. If I were to try and enter his room, I’m afraid I won’t see the light of day again.”

You blinked at Venti’s performance, slowly soaking in the information given. Does Xiao hate him? Why? You wanted to ask. “He’s sick?” was what came out your mouth instead.

“Terribly so.”

>>—<<

“Xiao?” you called out softly.

A shuffle was heard as the sickly student attempted to sit upright. You quickly entered the room and closed the door behind you, rushing over to Xiao’s side the moment the door clicked shut.

“Hey,” you said, smiling. “Hope you don’t mind the intrusion.”

Xiao blinked groggily, fighting against the sleep medication he had taken hours ago. “What are you”— he sneezed “doing here?”

“Came here to return your jacket,” you replied, draping his jacket over his pink gaming chair. An odd expression crossed your face, but you didn’t speak of it.

Xiao managed to sit upright despite being in absolute agony. His head throbbed painfully, an unfortunate side effect of his medication. You placed a hand over the small of his back and helped him ease into a more comfortable position. "Easy there Xiao..." you murmured. "Don't strain yourself too much."

"I'll be fine," he said. "You shouldn't be here— you know, with me being sick and all. You might get sick too."

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. "You're the one here sick, and you're worried about me? Besides, I didn't see you for the past week and I miss your presence."

There was a tease in your voice, and Xiao caught it. Yet he couldn't control the way his heart sped up. He cleared his throat, adverting his body away from where you sat. Perhaps being sick isn't so bad after all, he could at least use the fever as an excuse as to why his face is burning a scarlet red.

You felt your smile grow bigger seeing his reaction. "Don't turn around now— we've known each other for so long now, it's weird being somewhere without you." You were confident, almost too confident with your words. But with graduation so close, you knew that there wasn't much time left for you to spill your feelings. It was like gambling, gambling time and memories away.

Outside, the sun began to dip below the horizon. Snow resting upon the frail branch of the young oak crumbled when a chunk of ice shattered against the trunk.

“Heizou!” the shrill voice of Venti shrieked.

Either you win, or you'll lose it all.

Xiao remained silent, unsure of how to process your words. He wanted to believe everything you said, but some part of himself won't allow him to. For all he knows, you could just be tugging on his heartstrings, playing it like a sick sort of a puppet show. But... he glanced at you. You weren't looking at him anymore, instead your attention was fixated on the scene happening outside his window.

The way the sunset created a golden aura around you made you look absolutely breathtaking, hitting all the right angles in all the right way. He didn't know there was a way for you to be any prettier than you already are. Would he have gotten to see you like this if he wasn't sick?

"Xiao." the seriousness laced with your tone made him tense up. You pushed yourself away from the window ledge and turned to face him. “Xiao,” you repeated. “Can I tell you something?”

Your heart was pounding. A year worth of buildup— he’s seen you at your worst, as you had seen him, how much longer are you able to hold it in for? There’s nothing you could really hide from this man; he was bound to find out about your crush sooner or later.

Xiao took in a deep breath. “Go on,” he croaked out. He wiped his sweaty palms on his blanket.

You bit the insides of your cheek. The words are at the tip of your tongue, but that’s the furthest they’re willing to go. “I— fuck I can’t say it,” you groaned, turning back to face the window.

"No," he said. "No, tell me."

That intense voice you knew all too familiar— now you know that there is no backing out. Xiao's stubbornness had been a constant pain in the ass for you, yet it was also a part of him that you found endearing.

"You promise this won't change anything?" you asked, voice small.

A creak followed by a shuffle, and you felt Xiao's arm wrap around your waist. His disheveled hair tickled against your cheek as he rests his head upon your shoulder. '"Nothing will change, I promise," he muttered.

Touch. In no way was this unusual for the two of you. But this time, it felt new. In this stifling environment, where the air was tense, everything feels unfamiliar. Xiao's touch felt unfamiliar. What if this ruins it all?

Fuck it.

"I really like you, you know that, Xiao?" you whispered.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment, and you felt your heart drop. This is it. The signs point to it all, it tells you that Xiao is the one, yet you can't help but think otherwise. Overthinking has always been a bad habit of yours.

After minutes of painful awkward silence (it was only a few seconds), Xiao replied. "I know."

"I really like you too, [name]. I've liked you since last year, since the moment I saw you on the field for the annual sports festival. And I fell deeper in love with you over the course of the year, seeing you around campus, at the cafe you worked— your very presence seems to bring comfort. I wanted to confess for so long, you know? But I didn't, I feared that it would've tampered with whatever we already had going on."

he paused to clear his throat.

"I like— no, I love you."

Through the window, the view of the night sky was in perfect sight. The stars above twinkled, and flashing by for just a second, was a shooting star.

Even the stars have spoken.

✩ ·┆ masterlist

notes—

— the number of times i accidentally typed ‘ciao’ instead of ‘xiao’ is diabolical

© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate

[leaawrites]

Poetry Confessions

Elijah Hewson x fem!reader

Summary: writing poetry with Eli.

Wordcount: 0.9k

TW: none

A little appreciation post and a (late) happy birthday to one of my favourite irish lads, Elijah Bob Patricius Guggi Q Hewson.

Masterlist

Softly the rain outside played a melody she wanted to capture but just didn’t know how. It was such a sweet, soft sound that couldn’t be described in words. It was a echo but nothing more. Some sensual beating of natures heart. How could you capture a heartbeat?

The door creaked open and was shut close shortly after. Eli carrying in two mugs for the two of them. Both filled with the tea of their preference. The smoke of it was dancing through the air before dissolving into nothing. Cooling off.

He put them on his table before turning around to talk to the girl, who was sitting on his bed, about the song they were just about to write.

He invited her over to his after reading a bit of her poetry by what you could call rather an accident than for the reason of her offering it to him. Rob had given it to him, explaining that it was from a friend and that he should hold the papers for him while he set up his bass. The words memorized him and he could imagine a rhythm behind it. It was as if they were his own, but at the same time they weren’t. They told a story he saw himself in but he wasn’t the main character. They felt like one. Sharing a mind.

After talking to Rob about it and inviting her to a band practice before going to his home, she agreed to work with them. At first, she was mad at Rob for just handing the papers out like they were free advertisement and embarrassed that someone else besides her closest friends read her most conscious thoughts, but the lads were nice and she quickly bonded with them, which made her appreciate it a little more. Plus, she was now actively working together with people that she was convinced had a great future in front of them. For most people, you could tell if they were gonna be stars in their future at the mere age of 17, but with them, you just knew.

“What are you thinking about?” Eli asked, sitting down next to her. His eyes switched between her profile and the world outside his window. He watched the rain but to him it was a rather ordinary thing to admire.

“It’s beautiful. The rain, I mean. It’s so loud but so gentle,” she explained, turning her head to look at him. “I’ve tried writing about it, but I never really got to capture it’s beauty quite like I hoped to. It always seemed off.”

He had never heard anyone talk about nature like that - besides Bobby’s endless speeches about birds. But that - the rain and it’s magic - he understood it - not like the birds. He just sat there and watched her like he couldn’t comprehend she was real. What a mind, he thought.

“I think you can’t capture the most beautiful things in something like words or pictures. Reality is always more fascinating,” he answered, watching her to make her understand what he was referring to. Her.

“I don’t think that’s true,” she argued, pulling her legs up to sit cross legged opposite him.

Eli did the same, turning so he could look at her fully. “Then how do you explain your struggle with writing about rain?”

She shrugged. “Maybe I’m just bad.”

“When you’re bad then I’m horrible. No, even worse than horrible. A total disaster,” he joked, making her laugh. “You wanna test it?”

“How?” She asked, intrigued by his offer.

“We each write one poem about something that we find semi beautiful and one thing that we are fascinated by. Then we see which one is better,” he explained his idea.

“That’s not gonna work,” she said.

“You don’t even wanna try? Party popper,” he said, looking bored at her.

She laughed at his behavior before finally agreeing to his offer. “Which one do we write first?”

“The semi beautiful,” he decided.

Getting paper and two pens, he hands her what she needs before they both think and create.

“I say, we write the other one now and then we compare them together,” she said after they both finished writing their first poem.

They kept on writing, letting their creative stream lead them where they went with their poem. Y/n noticed, how every 2 seconds, Eli would look up at her and watch her for a moment before continuing writing.

“Can you please stop looking at me?” She asked, feeling small under his gaze.

He was still writing, so when he heard her talk he quickly looked up. “Sorry, what?” He asked, still half immersed in his lines and verses. Not expecting her to voice anything while concentrating.

“I don’t like when people look at me when I write, so could you please stop that?” She asked him.

She didn’t want to be rude, but she felt uncomfortable when she knew someone was watching her while she was willing to write about something personal. It was a nagging feeling she couldn’t shake off. Some distaste she imagined reflecting in their eyes, disgust of her mind. Some sort of making fun of her while writing. She felt insecure with the knowing of eyes watching her, afraid she might fail in front of them.

“Can’t do,” he said, deciding to just shoot his shot. Now or never, right?

“Why not?” She asked, putting her pen down on her paper and looking at him.

“I have to focus on my subject while writing.”

[sleepy-wyvern]

His Hummingbird (Miguel O'Hara x female!reader smut)

{Angsty smut oneshot}

Available: here on Tumblr and AO3

WC: ~2.2k [oneshot]

Synopsis: You're a human female who has a boyfriend from another dimension; Spider-Man 2099. Miguel visits your apartment late at night as a surprise after not seeing him for a week.

I HAD TO GET THIS IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD BEFORE I COULD FOCUS ON OTHER FICS IM SORRY ;-;

Inspirations: the song Hummingbird by Metro Bloomin and James Blake and you know the fang scene… man definitely bites 👀

A/N: If y’all want/request more I may write more, otherwise this is a one shot ❤️ leave a comment or reblog if you liked. 

Warnings/tags: Angst, Smut (18+ Minors DNI), hickies (lotsa biting), fingering, light begging from reader, p in v (condom), light male whimpering

Disclaimer: I borrowed my spanglish friend for some of the translations here. Feel free to send an ask or comment if something feels off.

Enjoy!

The moon shone bright through the heavy clouds as you wondered where your spider was. 

Fighting crime, defeating evil, saving lives, all nothing you could complain about. Another universe, another day, another “business trip.” He used that phrase to try and make you feel better but it couldn’t take away from the fact that one day he may not return. Perhaps if things went bad enough you wouldn’t ever be able to know what happened to him, just spending the rest of your life waiting for someone who would never return. You tried your best to shove the thought away as you fiddled with the window latch.

You pushed open the window widely to get whatever cool night air you could in your little city apartment. As the hot summer days neared closer you took solace in the cold rainy night. The sound of the rain and the city traffic was oddly comforting.

You turned and walked toward the kitchen sink opposite of the room figuring you'd at least try to get some chores done. It was a small-ish apartment the size of a hotel room really. The biggest room was the merged kitchen and living room. Still, it was familiar enough space for you to sense the presence behind you.

The moment you turned your back you heard the window blinds gently tap against the window pane; anyone else would’ve thought that had been the wind. Anyone else without a spider person lover anyways.

“Do spiders ever use the door?” You spoke without turning around, instead you turned the faucet on to do the dishes.

“You should start locking that window at night,” his gruff voice was directly behind you.

“Miguel,” you sighed, twisting the tap off before turning around.

It had been a week since his last visit, the longest ever since you started “seeing” each other. You hadn’t put a label on anything yet, what could you call a lover from another dimension that could never stay with you?

Every time you saw him after a prolonged period you were intimidated by how he stood over you. He hadn’t meant to be intimidating as his mask was already removed, yet it was hard to ignore his height and size of his build especially when he had to look down at you.

“Nobody can enter a 4th story window,” you smiled. “Just you.”

Despite that you were angry he was gone for so long your heart melted at the sight of his brown locks falling gracefully over his forehead. He wore his blue and red spider suit as he always did when traveling.

He wrapped his large arms around your waist, pulling you close into his hot embrace. He planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Te extrañé…” He trailed off as he pulled back to look into your eyes. 

He held his hands against your face when you eyed his bracelet; the thing that let him stay here with you without “glitching out.” It was a grim reminder of what could never be. Despite the comfort you got from his rough hands against your soft face, it made you sad. 

“I missed you too,” you sighed, overlapping his hand with your smaller one.

The bracelet was cool to the touch as you frowned. “Where have you been?” You scolded, “You told me you’d be back by Monday. It’s Friday!”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed furrowing his brows. “It’s work.”

“It always is,” You turn around putting your hands on the smooth countertop.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he offered, sounding sad and hopeful.

You knew he didn’t mean to make you worry or make you sad. You both wished things were different. It would make it so much easier. You knew though that if he could change things he would and you didn’t want to hold what was out of his control against him. It wasn’t his fault you were born in different worlds, different universes. It didn’t help that you weren’t a spider person either.

You felt his hands gently against your waist as he moved closer to you.

“I'm sorry." He sighed. "Mi pequeña colibrí…” he whispered into your ear. His breath was hot and heavy against your neck sending shivers down your body.

“Oh stop, you can’t use the español to make me feel better! No fair!” You laughed. 

He placed a kiss on your ear that tickled before you spun back around, wrapping your arms over his shoulders.

“My spiderman,” You giggled as his look of concern melted into happiness. "I'm not mad at you. Just try to let me know if you'll be late next time."

The corner of his lips turned upward ever so slightly in relief. "I promise."

Another thing that was likely yours only; Miguel’s smile. When Jessica met you she was surprised you were even real. She warned you to not mention much of Miguel’s personal life activities to the other spider people but it was hard to remember. Once you accidentally mentioned the flowers on your table were from Miguel to Gwen she nearly fainted. You adored the way he treated you special even if you weren’t sure why he chose you. You could never be mad at him for something he couldn't control.

He brushed his thumbs in a circular motion against your waist as he held you. His dark eyes were full of love as he looked down at you. 

You ran your fingers back through his brown hair. He seemed to sigh beneath your touch, it was thrilling in a way to know he was comfortable enough around you to let his guard down. Nobody else could see Miguel the way you did.

“You need to stop being so stressed. Relax more.” You sighed bringing your fingers to his forehead. “Grumpy wrinkles.”

He chuckled low as he held you tightly. He brought his face down into your neck to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume that he loved so much.

“I know what helps with that,” his voice was deep and silky and fuck it made your body melt. 

You giggled as his sweet kisses turned into loving nibbles. He was careful to not hurt you with his fangs but he knew how much you loved his gentle biting. You had a hunch he loved it as much as you did. On top of that it’s been a week without it and damn you missed him.

You let his touch overwhelm you as he held you, softly biting against your delicate skin. His body tensed against you the moment you let out a small pleasurable gasp.

“Hm,” He huffed deeply as he pulled back. “I forgot my strength. I’m sorry, mi colibrí.”

He brought his fingers up to your neck, wiping away the wetness before examining the hickie left behind.

“That’s what makeup is for,” you reassured. “Now, you have a week to make up for…”

“No better time to start than now,” he knocked off the stack of papers that were laying on the countertop.

Before you could react he grabbed your hips, lifting you into the air. You let out a faint gasp as you wrapped your legs around him.

“Miguel!” You scolded as he smirked at you, placing you on the empty countertop space. “Naughty, what has become of you?” You teased him.

“You have become of me,” he pressed his hot lips against yours hungrily. 

He brought his hands around to the back of your head holding you close so he could kiss you deeply. It wasn’t long before you could feel his cool tongue against your lips. You opened your mouth letting him in, his cold mouth meeting your warm one.

You brought your hands to his shoulders feeling the fabric of his suit. Eagerly you moved your fingers to his back, grasping for the zipper. You rotated between feeling the muscles of his back and fumbling with the damn zipper making your kisses turn sloppy.

“Eager aren’t we?” He laughed low and deep in his throat, it wasn’t a mocking tone. In fact you knew he loved it. 

He shimmied his shoulders out of the suit and it took all of your power not to basically drool over him. You wasted no time bringing your hands to feel his hot skin, tracing your fingers lovingly over the scars on his chest.

You buried your fingers in his hair as your lips met again. The man loves to kiss you, almost as much as he loves to bite you. He took the opportunity to switch to biting your neck whenever you pulled back to breathe. 

He slowly brought his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, running his calloused fingers along your silky smooth torso. You separated from him only long enough to remove the pesky fabric of your top before diving back into him again.

You could feel the bulge in his underwear against your leg as he leaned forward to undo the clasp of your bra. He brought his large hands to your breasts lovingly cupping and massaging them. Goosebumps rose against his skin at the sound of your soft, lustful moans.

“More baby,” you whispered.

He brought his lips to your nipple, his hair tickling your chest. You tilted your head down letting yourself get lost in the scent of his shampoo while he planted wet kisses against your stiff nipple. His grabs on your body slowly turned more rough as you felt his teeth against your skin.

“More,” you demand. It’s been a week and damn you wanted him more than anything. 

He hooked his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your leggings and panties as you shimmied to help. Your body shivered as the fabric pooled to the floor. Miguel looked at your body with a mixture of awe and hunger- a deep lust filled hunger.

He brought his index and middle finger to your entrance, smiling when he felt how wet you were.

“You really did miss me huh, mi pequeña colibrí?” 

You nodded “mmm’, yes I did. Need you, Miguel.” You whined feeling him circle your entrance.

He wasn’t cruel to make you wait as he plunged his fingers in. Your back arched as you gasped, spreading your legs desperate for him deeper. Feeling his fingers arch against your walls and watching the movements of his wrist as he pleased you was intoxicating.

Still you wanted more.

“Please, baby,” you whimpered.

Your body whined when he stopped and pulled his fingers out. 

“What is it, cariño?” His voice purred. He brought his fingers to his lips, rolling his tongue over your sweetness.

“You,” your lip quivered as you shuddered from the cool apartment air. “Please.”

You knew this was a game he could normally play for a long time. Not today though, neither of you could handle it. Instead your heart raced as he nodded to the kitchen drawer where you kept the condoms since counter sex had become a more regular activity.

He brought his large, hard cock out of his boxers, stroking lightly. You swallowed at the sight wondering how you could ever take him.

He smirked at your expression “are you afraid?”

You shook your head, reaching your hands out to his broad shoulders trying to bring him closer. You fumbled with the condom, bringing your hands to his hot cock. He gasped lightly as your hands held him him, rolling the condom down over him.

He lined his tip against your entrance, soaking himself in your juices and teasing you just a little. 

“Are you ready?” He whispered and for the first time tonight you heard his voice start to shake.

You bit your lip as you nodded “I am.”

He slowly slid himself in as you let out a moan of tight, firey pressure. The moment he was fully inside you both let out a gasp; you both waited so long for this moment. You wrapped your arms around him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck while you got used to the feeling of all of him inside. 

He waited for you to nod and give him the okay to continue. He planted a kiss on your cheek as he pulled out slightly before thrusting in again. You spread your legs further apart, moaning at the next deeper thrust. You grasped at the muscles of his back for an anchor.

“Just like that, cariño,” He whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

He thrusted against, harder and faster as you felt your pleasure start to build. He kept a lovely, steady pace and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you reached your climax.

“Oh Miguel,” you moaned, making him shiver. “Baby, I’m close.”

You grasped at his back desperate to have more of him. His heavy breaths and grunts sent electricity through you while his cock pressed lovingly against that sweet spot.

“Don’t move,” his voice was a quiet whimper while you held him.

Fuck, hearing him whimper always sent you feral but you did your best to keep still while he pounded into your tight cunt. Your back arched as the waves of pleasure crashed down into a lovely orgasm. 

“You feel so good,” he whispered in your ear. 

You knew he was close and you wrapped your legs around him not letting him go. 

“I’m, I’m-“ his voice broke off as you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

His arms held you tightly to him as you were wrapped around him lovingly. The heat of your bodies, the feeling of his heart beating and the rise and fall of his chest as he heavily breathed through the pleasure… Despite that soon he’d have to leave again these moments are what make it worth it.

"Te amo," his voice was a husky whisper as he held you.

For now, you got to enjoy the warm embrace of your spider. 

===

💙💙💙💙

Thanks so much for reading, let me know if you enjoyed with any comments/reblogs, I appreciate them all!

-Wyv

[bringbacktim]

Fearless -O.P⁸¹

Not edited or proofread

This took forever and I apologise

Warnings: overuse of words cause I cba to find synonyms , I took lyrics out so its choppy at some parts

I want to thank @rinna0017 for telling me Oscar is fearless by Taylor swift coded because yes he is

Wc:1.5k

There's something about the way

The street looks when it's just rained

Oscar and Y/n were enjoying day three of seven in Portugal , the weather had been great the whole time they'd been there . Well that was until they planned to actually go somewhere and then it rained cats and dogs , but when you're a young couple in love nothing can put you in a bad mood

The pair couldn't stop giggling as they tried to either find some tree to hide under or a hideaway to duck under until the rain stopped

There's a glow off the pavement

Any oil that had leaked onto the pavements before the northern downpour were displaying all the colours of the rainbow as it mixed with the rain water , which made for a pretty sight

You walk me to the car

Oscar was in more of a rush to get to the rental car , probably due to his expensive clothing, practically dragging her

"C'mon baby we're gonna get soaked if you don't hurry up" he basically pleaded as he turned to look back at her

"It's only rain oscar, it's not going to kill you" she said with a laugh

As they approached the quaint Mini Cooper they had rented opting for a car that wouldn't stand out unlike the McLaren's he was used to

And you know I wanna ask you to dance right there

In the middle of the parking lot, yeah

Oscar was confused at first when he opened the passenger door for his girlfriend to get in , but she just put her stuff on the seat and closed the door . As he caught her eyes to question her he saw her stood like the confused emoji(🤷🏻‍♀️) hands up and a head tilt, of course he knew what this meant as he'd been in this situation before

"We're not dancing in the rain again"

"It was fun last time don't lie , you just want to go back to the hotel and watch Ozark" she accused

"Okay maybe I do , but don't act like Jason Bateman isn't your celebrity crush" he retorted as she laughed knowing it was true

We're drivin' down the road, I wonder if you know

I'm trying so hard not to get caught up now

Y/n will admit that she was one hundred percent ogling/admiring her boyfriend from the passenger seat , but who wouldn't that white shirt was doing wonders for him

"It's a good thing I don't ever let you drive , you'd crash 'cause you're too busy looking at me" he laughed feeling her eyes bore a hole in the side of his head

"Some people take it as a compliment y'know having their girlfriend think they're hot" she tried to sound serious/annoyed, but couldn't help but crack a smile

"You think I'm hot?" He questioned turning to her with a classic "I hate you" with a shake of the head and a grin

But you're just so cool, run your hands through your hair

Absentmindedly makin' me want you

Everyone knows that one of the hottest things a guy can do is run his hand through his hair subconsciously, so when he did it before putting his hand on the back of her headrest her heart nearly stopped due to how hot those two actions were together

Truth be told if she was in that drivers seat they would be parked far enough away from anyone walking by and if anyone from the authorities questioned them they'd claim they didn't know the laws in Portugal

And I don't know how it gets better than this

How could life possibly get any better than driving down some country road wind in her hair , sun shining , her boyfriend beside her , and some Taylor Swift love song playing on the radio as they sang along

"Are you sure we can't just stay here forever?" She asked looking over at him

"I wish, but we both know you'd get bored in a week" he said with a smile and a playful shove in her direction

"Depends if you talk to me about cricket or not "

That statement earned her a scoff and a " don't lie you love it " from the man next to her as she laughed along . She didn't mean it in a mean way , everyone has one subject that they can and will talk about with someone even if they don't care or like it

You take my hand and drag me

headfirst, fearless

The car came to an abrupt stop and

Y/n was confused as to why he'd stopped and where they were , well that was until she looked around and out of the window as he was getting out that she realised they were at a beach that they'd seen what they assumed were other tourists on the first day who looked like they were having the times of their lives dancing a long to music and chatting or sunbathing and taking it all in

"When you said we were going to come back to this beach, I'd assumed it was going to be when the weather was nice"

"Don't act like you don't want to have a fearless moment right now" he beamed at her as he lead her out of the car and down the boardwalk

"You know me so well" she said basically running behind as he dragged her

And I don't know why but with you I'd dance

In a storm in my best dress, fearless

As they swayed in the heavy rain and powerful wind Y/n realised that she wouldn't want to dance in her best most favourite dress with anyone else , he is also the only person she'd run through an airport for but that's a different conversation

It was a stupid thing to do and both parties knew it would probably lead to a cold in the following days , but they couldn't have cared less in the moment , cause when life starts to feel like a Taylor Swift song suddenly nothing else matters , and even if they did get sick Oscar had been meaning to catch up on some Netflix show anyway so it was a win win situation

After about 2 and a half minutes when the giggles and adrenaline had wore off and the cold and wind were starting to affect them , they made a run for the rental as they tried not to slip and tumble over curbs on the way

So baby drive slow 'til we run out of road

In this one-horse town, I wanna stay right here

Back roads had quickly became on of their favourite places and today was no different , they had to drive slower than usual due to the rain (top tips) but they didn't have anywhere to be so they could easily spend all day driving in circles round and round just basking in each others company

"Are you sure they can't just let you race exclusively in Portugal forever?" Y/n said looking out the window at the beautiful scenery

"You say this to every place we visit" he chuckled " we can always come back for summer break" he tried to bargain

"I will be holding you to that Piastri"

She said pointing an accusing finger at him

In this passenger seat, you put your eyes on me

In this moment, now capture it, remember it

The sight of him looking at her with the utmost adoration, as they made their way back to the hotel because it was getting late , she knew she had to capture it and probably post it on her Instagram account later or just keep it to herself until his birthday or he did something worth celebrating either way she knew she needed to have a photograph of it

"No paparazzi" he said covering the lenses with his palm with the biggest grin on his face knowing it was such a bad joke but he said it everytime his girlfriend would try to take a video or photo of him

Well, you stood there with me in the doorway

My hands shake, I'm not usually this way

After a long day of being fools in love they arrived back at the hotel they had called home for the last few days . Y/n couldn't help but stare at the button up he was wearing and how he had the sleeves rolled up and the top couple buttons undone (an almost deathly combination to any woman)

"You know you don't have to stare at me until I make the first move ? You can just kiss me whenever" he half joked

But you pull me in and I'm a little more brave

Despite him saying that he was the first to make a move , but she was definitely the more eager of the two and desperately wanted out of those wet clothes one way or another

It's the first kiss, it's flawless, really somethin'

It wasn't the first kiss they shared or even the first of the day, probably the first in half an hour , but that didn't make it any less special and exciting as they stepped into the elevator and headed to their room

[goldengleams]

can i have this dance? | jamie drysdale x reader

In which you and Jamie become Troy and Gabriella.

Missing Jamie Drysdale and all of his cuteness, so enjoy this HSM3 inspired blurb!!

————————————————————————

You couldn’t help but feel overly excited at the dark clouds that were starting to cover the sky. After living in California for a year, you had grown accustomed to the lack of rain, but it still made you aggravated. You grew up in a place that had rain on a regular basis and had always loved it.

“Jamie, it’s looking like rain!” You shouted down the hall to your boyfriend. You were curled up near the edge of the couch so that you could look out the window.

Jamie had just woken up from a nap, the loud thunder drawing him from his slumber. He opened his bedroom door and trudged over to the couch, dramatically falling on top of you.

“Yeah, and your rain just woke me up,” he grumbled. You started to poke at his shoulder, which was now uncomfortably in your side.

“Well you can’t miss the rain! This is the most exciting moment of my week, J. I can’t understand how nothing here ever needs rain, it’s so weird,” you trailed off, focus on the window.

Jamie looked up at your hopeful face and smiled at you. He found it so adorable that you were so passionate about the rain. One time up on the roof of his and Trevor’s apartment, he had listened to you describe the way you saw the rain. You saw it as a cleanse, everything becoming drenched in water. It was calming to you, the thunder and lightning only making the spectacle more interesting and attention grabbing.

A soft gasp left your mouth as rain started to fall. You clambered up from the couch, running to the large window to watch it like a little kid.

“Jamie, look!”

Jamie eagerly followed you. You were practically bouncing by the time the rain started to pick up and the lawn outside Jamie’s apartment got wet.

“Now this, this Jamie Drysdale, feels normal,” you laughed. “This feels like home.”

Jamie, a fair bit taller than you, rested his head atop yours and wrapped his arms around you.

“It’s beautiful,” Jamie offered. He couldn’t quite see what you saw when it rained, but he loved trying to understand you, so he was willing to stare out the window a little longer.

You wriggled free from his grasp and spun around the kitchen. “We have to rain dance, Jamie!”

Your eyes were bright as you stared at him. You were sure you looked a little wild-your hair was half tucked in a bun and a large Anaheim Ducks t-shirt covered your body. What you didn’t know was that Jamie thought you looked just as beautiful as ever.

“A rain dance?” He questioned.

You nodded emphatically. “Yes, Jamie. And it means that we have to go outside and be absolutely obnoxious and have the time of our fucking lives, do you understand?”

You didn’t give Jamie any time to really understand before you were tugging on his arm. You both slipped on sandals and before Jamie knew it, you were leading him out his front door, down the steps.

“You’ve seen High School Musical 3, right?” You questioned, slowing your movement to look at Jamie.

He nodded, looking confused as to where you were going with this.

“Well, there’s a scene where Gabriella and Troy sing this song and they dance in the rain and have the best time ever, and I’ve always wanted to do it with someone special,” you said, the giddiness bubbling inside of you.

You ran ahead of him, arms wide to feel the cool water hit your body. Jamie could practically see the happiness radiating from your frame.

“Dance with me, Jamie!”

While this wasn’t Jamie’s preferred activity, he ran out to meet you in the middle of the lawn, abandoning the covering of the doorway. You were in your element.

You found Jamie’s shoulders as you pulled him close to do a pretend slow dance in the rain. You both erupted in giggles at the absurdity of your actions, not caring who could see you outside like fools.

Jamie spun you around and dipped you effortlessly. You danced for a few minutes, practicing your best couple moves with each other.

“Thanks for being crazy with me and pretending we’re the main characters in a teen movie,” you laughed. You smiled as you and Jamie were now quite close, only a few inches separating you from his lips.

“I’d dance in the rain with you any day, Y/N,” Jamie said, kissing you in the middle of the storm.

————————————————————————

This was a random little idea that came to me when it rained the other day!! Hope you enjoyed it!☔️

[caralara]

Hi!!! You went to the PinkPop Festival? How was it? I love reading fan experiences of Louis' shows (if you want to share of course if you don't ignore my ask).

Hiiii! Yes I did!!

So I have to say after the first day I absolutely hated everything and wanted to go home, and never wanted to do another festival again 😭

Our parking lot was cancelled the evening before we drove all the way to the Netherlands, the car rental didn’t have our car so we had to choose between a fiat 500 and an electric car to get us four plus camping equipment there - so I drove 9 hours, we arrived past midnight, had to set up the tent in the rain past midnight and I had to walk 45 minutes with my stuff after parking the car SOMEWHERE.

It rained the entire first day, but we wanted to go see Kawala because I had seen them open for Giant Rooks in Stockholm and Prague and they were lots of fun! Even though they were on first. I also met them on the festival grounds!! They’re really sweet, well, Daniel and Ben are, the main singer isn’t really my vibe tbh haha.

Then I went to go see Yungblud and DAMN! What a great show!! The energy is amazing, his voice and show is amazing, he came down to the barricade to sing with the fans and after the show he came back again and took time to take photos and talk to the fans. I was really impressed and started listening to more than just the one song I knew!

After I went back to the tent because I was utterly exhausted and completely freezing in the rain. Everything was muddy and our tents and sleeping bags were wet bc they couldn’t withstand all that rain. It was so disgusting. I was sad that I missed Måneskin and Avril Lavigne, but I was physically not able anymore.

Next day we didn’t manage to get to the entrance as early as we wanted to so the gates were already opened and we went straight to Louis’ stage, we slowly managed to get to the third row with people leaving after the sets, which was great.

First act was Joost Klein, and the vibe was so cool bc he had so much fun, it was completely crazy and the Dutch went NUTS! I actually enjoyed the Beatles cover band after him, but my friend fainted so I had to get out and stayed with her a bit at the medics centre before going back in. I didn’t enjoy Froukje so much to be honest, but it was the last act before louis!!

So I celebrated my birthday that weekend and when louis came on stage— the pit was PACKED and the crowd was sooo loud and all the non fans were so shocked the audience was so engaged at 6 pm haha! He looked incredible, and it was so fun to see him perform during the light of the day!! Steve didn’t even have a top on when they came out and that was awesome.

I had a bit of space and very small people in front of me so right at the beginning louis made eye contact with me and I gassed him up and he pointed back at me in a similar manner and it felt so special to get to interact with him again, it’s been a long six months without him 🥲

He was very focused on getting the singing right and tbh I think this was definitely one of his better shows when it comes to the singing haha, but it did make him a bit held back and stiff.

And although I understand that he chose to sing three 1D songs bc that’s what non-fans would recognise and be more inclined to look him up, I would’ve personally preferred tk her more of his solo stuff. The intros and arrangements have been changed a bit from when I saw him late last year, so it took a little while to actually believe it that he chose to sing 7 lmao, I was so “no it can’t be??” That I didn’t recognise it properly. During the teenage wasteland interlude he was going nuts again and he liked that, nodding to me hehe.

I also thought he wouldn’t come down to barricade, but he did although it was an awfully long way!! And then he was just gone and it felt like something had happened? And everyone was confused and no one applauded or cheered bc it was so confusing that suddenly he wasn’t there anymore.

After that I was super exhausted but happy!

We went to see Nothing But Thieves after and OH MY GOD I fell in love immediately and have been obsessively listening to their songs and I’m so glad I saw them life!! Conor looked soooo cool and comfortable on stage and with the crowd, we were seriously impressed.

Calvin Harris had a big nostalgia factor in it for me for my clubbing days in the 2010s 🥲 but it was a bit boring besides that bc he literally just DJs.

The last day was another early start for Sea Girls, I didn’t listen to them much bc I skipped the London show where they opened for louis last tour, but they were a lot of fun! And I’ve been listening to some of their songs as well.

After I went to see The K’s, they were charming but had some tech problems, and surprise! Andrew Cushin’s sound tech also did their sound! So we missed meeting him for a beer but he let us know that The K’s had a gig in my hometown the next day so I promised I’d try driving back super quickly to make it in time for their gig (I did lol and went for Kebap with them as well and tbh the front singer is a bit of a dick, but the guitarist was really sweet!).

We only half listened to Loreen which wasn’t really my thing and to James Arthur, who is super pretty? And had a great voice but I was so exhausted and frankly needed some alone time.

And then honestly the grand finale.

Hozier came on stage and maybe it’s something about the tonality of his voice with the way his guitar sounds? But it went straight into the back of my skull, down my spine and turning into violent goosebumps. I basically cried through his entire set but not bc I wasn’t feeling well or was sad I was just so emotionally overwhelmed by how physical and spiritual I felt his music right there live. It really was such a treat hearing him, and he seems sooo gentle and he’s sooo tall, and he brought out Ed Sheeran for Work Song which was crazy! The tears just wouldn’t stop coming.

And then Ed Sheeran was also insane. I was already still sort of one bump from being back to crying and he just was on stage alone?? Just him his guitar and his looper??? I was SO impressed. And he was very emotional, too. But calm. And I just cried about everything again, the songs, what he said about his wife, then little seven-ish year old boy so happy to be there and on his dad’s shoulders to see Ed, the friendship groups that held each other and the couples that enjoyed it together. It was a really beautiful experience and I felt so fucking grateful for the fact that I can enjoy music so haptically, that I get to have the ability to feel it SO deeply and that live music is gorgeous.

Thank you for asking lovely! I’m sure you just wanted to know about louis, but I really wanted to talk about all the acts I saw at Pinkpop!

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Distances Between (Part 2)

18+ blood drinking, heavy petting, grinding, conflicting feelings, flirting, pining, (light) alcohol drinking

Astarion X F! Plus Sized Tav

listening to: Rain - Sleep Token, It Will Come Back - Hozier

-

Tav was pretty sure she'd fucked up.

Deft fingers twisted her still damp hair into a tight braid. Sitting in her tent, Tav's mind raced through their.. interaction at the water, glad to have a tactile task to keep her steady. She had taken things too far. It was too much, she was certain of it.

A mistake to have let her lust clouded mind take control. Assumed. Overstepped. Screwing up her face she decided she must apologize.

That night she walked on hushed feet, went to him. There was a faint glow from inside his tent, the vague shape of his silhouette against the canvas. She knew his keen ears had heard her approach.

Her hand hovered over the opening, but decided against it. She had already intruded enough tonight.

There was a tension thrumming through the air as they both stood on silence, the fabric of the tent a division. She took in a small breath.

"Astarion," the stillness from inside of the tent a bow pulled taut.

"I'm sorry. I overstepped and it wont happen again. I know how it feels to be-" She paused, no this wasnt about her. Gathered her words again. "If you want to leave I wont hold it against you.."

Quieter then, "But I hope you stay." She turned and walked back to her tent.

She had hid the joy in her eyes when she saw him at the mouth of his tent, meditating. The light of the morning gave way and he had stayed. She quietly passed, meeting the others at the hubbub of breakfast.

Karlach's hand clapping down on her shoulder in greeting, her bright smile infectious. "Morning, Soldier!" As they chatted she could feel eyes on the back of her neck but didnt turn. Give him time, give him space.

Though the morning had been promising the day had proved grueling, each battle scraping them against the stones. Each skirmish a barely won whirlwind. When night blissfully came groans and slumped bodies littered the camp. Still there were small victorious smiles shared and the wine that Astarion had swiped made the group loose-limbed and happy.

As the banter and spirit floated Tav spotted that ever distant shock of silver hair. She stood and went to him, her step sure. 

He glanced up at her, she was pretty sure pretending to be engrossed in his book. "Yes, darling?"

"Care for a drink?" She raised her eyebrows, a cheeky smile edging the corner of her lips. Though she had only had a few sips she felt the spirits in her stomach give her a silly bravado.

He glanced up at her, eyed her empty hands. A slow smile spread over his face, catching on.

"Well, now.. you shouldn't have. What a gracious offer! You spoil me darling." He let the darling trail on a little long, bemused.

"I'll find you when the riff raff has finally gone down for the count." He gestured lazily with the tips of his fingers to the others gathered around the fire.

"I'll be waiting on bated breath my honeyed Drow.." he was laying it on thick now and she rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile.

She sat leaned back on her pack, eyes closed. Peaceful. Humming a tune softly, something she had heard in a passing tavern. Breathing in the quiet of the night air.

"Ah my favorite bard, wont you bless us with a song?" He said low in her ear.

She opened one eye in mock suspicion, squinting at him, "Yet I am no bard, gentle nobleman. I cannot offer you a shanty nor a hymn.."

She saw the glitter in his eyes, enjoying her banter.

"Nay, alas all I can offer.." she sat up slightly and pulled her tunic from her neck, long hair falling behind her.

"Oh you temptress, you siren!" His words were light and playful but his eyes.. She felt a thrill in her stomach. 

He leaned in and cupped the side of her neck, his cool fingers gentle. Kneeling next to her his mouth only hovered above her pulse, his breath tickling her. He was so close. She was no stranger to this ritual by now but this felt.. different. The air crackled with electricity.

She could feel her heart beating hard.

He breathed it in, taking in her scent.

Finally he opened his jaws and oh so slowly sank into her.

She fought the moan that was forming in her throat but couldn't restrain the hand that trailed into his hair. Languidly scratching his scalp. He shivered under her touch and she was about to pull away, embarrassed that she had made him uncomfortable again. 

But his long legs moved quickly, one thigh pushing between hers. They were so close now, straddled into eachother. The intimacy made her feel dizzy, delirious.

She pushed her face up into him as he pulled from her greedily, drinking her down. She held her hand to his clavicle, feeling the deep pulse of his swallowing.

Lust took to the front of her mind, losing herself. Pushing her small ragged breaths into his ear.

He hitched, a groan muffled into her flesh.

His hand wandered feather light, curious, down the curve of her hip. The other bracing her strong against him between her shoulder blades.

She twisted his hair in a small tug in response and felt the hand bracing her dig nails in, a growl deep in his chest.

In one fluid motion he hooked under her thigh and pulled her up to him, chest to chest, positioning her straddling over his hips. She let out a small gasp and resisted grinding down into him. Like he couldn't get her close enough. 

She ran her hand down his lower back, intoxicated, revelling in the taut muscles there. She needed more. No she couldn't get carried away. 

He finally came up for air, a gasping whimper against her neck, and began eagerly licking her up in slow wide strokes. His tongue newly hot from her blood coursing through him.

She could see it in the tips of his ears and resisted putting her mouth there. She had to slow down.

He finally fully pulled away, releasing her. The sight of him, blood smeared on his perfect mouth, eyes dark and rolling, sated. Gods it made her ache.

"Did you have your fill?" She asked leaning back on her hands, looking up at him, awestruck. Failing at hiding the gasping in her voice. 

His gaze suddenly focused and flicked down to her, staring. His chest heaving, eyes dilated. 

She expected a smirked remark, maybe some practiced sweet nothings. Instead he leaned down to her again.

His lips hovered inches away from hers, blood-fucked eyes boring into her. 

Her breath froze in her chest. A thrill of danger tickled her spine. She dared not move, though her nerves screamed to lean into him. To slide her lips against his.

They stayed in that heady limbo for what could have only been seconds but felt like an eternity. Breathing eachother.

He slowly pulled away, an emotion she couldn't place passing over his face. 

Then he was gone, wordlessly rising. Disappearing into the overlap of the tents.

Still gasping for breath all she could do was watch.

-

Shaking hands opened his tent. Get a grip. He pulled his blood drenched tunic off. Breathe. Breathe you fool.

He had never lost control like that.

The unbridled desire he felt frightened him. Not just for her heavenly blood but her. He could still feel the little hot breaths she left in his ear. Felt a groan deep in his chest just from the memory.

Her question, "Did you get your fill?" Gods below. It had him about to do something very stupid, cross a line that he did not expect.

No, no this wont do at all. He would have to keep his distance from now on. Ran a still warm hand through his bloodflecked hair.

~

Part 3

[adidastain]

only time will tell

90s matt stone x fem reader (grace)

warnings: none

notes: first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.)

word count: 1881

—

“Hey.”

I heard a low voice whisper. I felt a small nudge on my shoulder.

All I saw was red until I opened my eyes. The soft pattering of the rain against the car I was in, paired with my physical exhaustion must have lulled me to sleep.

I looked at Matt, next to me in the driver’s seat. He looked pretty tired too, but remained nonetheless focused on the road in front of him as the stoplight switched to green.

“How long was I asleep?” I mumbled, adjusting my position.

“Five minutes maybe,” he said. “I didn’t want to wake you up, but we’re almost to your place.”

I hummed in response. It seemed like he had more to say, but he barely even blinked. I stared at his side profile for a moment, taking in how the red brake lights in front of us lit up his face.

“This is the long way to my place,” I stated, sitting up. I was wide awake now. My hand absentmindedly moved to turn on the radio.

“I know,” Matt said, sighing slightly.

“You just wanna hang out with me more. That’s why you woke me up with all of ten minutes left of the drive,” I snickered. The idea of him secretly wanting to spend more time with me made me feel slightly giddy.

I always thought Matt was pretty cool and funny. We’d talked once after meeting at a party a few weeks ago, and we met up at a bunch more parties since. This time, though, he offered to drive me home, both of us knowing that we don’t live close to each other at all.

“Well, you’re chill. Plus I only ever see you at parties. I feel like I barely get to talk to you,” Matt laughed.

“I thought I gave you my number?” I argued. “Call me once in a while, hm?”

“It’s not like you really call me either,” He said.

“That’s because I don’t have your number, nimrod. I could have sworn I gave you mine. Do you have a pen?”

“Yeah. In the glovebox,” He sighed.

Dramatically, I opened the glovebox and grabbed the pen. The box was full of napkins and paperwork and the like. I knew he had a bunch of crap in his trunk, but so did I. I wasn’t one to judge.

My hand grabbed his wrist, prying it from the steering wheel and turning it over. He was wearing a gray T-shirt and as I leaned in, I could smell his cologne. I had to ignore it so I could scrawl my phone number onto his skin three times over.

“Get that tattooed so you don’t lose it,” I huffed, leaning back in my seat.

“I won’t,” he laughed sheepishly. “Lose it, I mean.”

I hummed, smirking. I stared at the road for a while, listening to the radio. One of my favorite songs came on. Only Time Will Tell by Asia.

“I like the keyboard,” Matt said. For some reason, it felt… awkward. We were about 3 minutes away from my place now, and I was starting to feel sleepy again. I wondered what was on his mind that kept him so quiet.

“I do too,” I agreed. “It’s like a war declaration. This song is very triumphant.”

“It reminds me of The Final Countdown,” He said, smiling slightly.

I laughed. The other iconic keyboard-driven tune from the other one-hit-wonder band named after another continent. “Definitely,” I affirmed.

I started to feel slightly overheated. Being with Matt in his car in the rain gave me a warm feeling. That and the fact that he’d given me his zip-up at the party a few hours prior. It was the most comfortable thing I’d ever worn. And it smelled like him.

“Hey, don’t let me forget to give this back to you,” I told him, pulling on the sleeves. He glanced towards me, responding with nothing other than a nod of understanding.

Through the duration of the last two minutes of the drive, I spent about half of the time stealing glances at his hands, face, and neck, and half the time daydreaming.

“Get out,” Matt ordered jokingly as he pulled into my townhome driveway. I lived in a small, but vertically favored townhouse with two stories, packed in between several other nearly identical homes like a sardine.

“Ugh. Bye,” I rolled my eyes, grabbing my bag and whatnot.

“Lemme walk you to your door,” He told me, getting out of the driver’s seat. He left the car running as he joined me at my side to walk the treacherous ten feet to my doorstep. What would I have done without him.

Matt had his hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders and arms tensed. I assumed he was cold. The rain wasn’t as heavy now, but mist still fell from the sky and chilled the air.

I tried to unlock my door, moving my hair out of my face. It fell in front of my eyes again, and after tucking it back a second time, only for it to fall again, Matt took the liberty of helping me out.

I turned my head towards him as his hand touched my face, but he was quick to let go as soon as my eyes met his. I raised my eyebrows in a playful manner, poking fun at him. He lowered his head, smiling.

My door finally opened, and I stepped inside, setting my stuff down before meeting Matt in the doorway once more.

“Don’t forget to call me,” I told him. “If you don’t call me when you get home, I’m gonna tell every person I know that you’re dead.”

Matt snorted in a laugh. “They don’t know who I am,” He snickered, grinning.

“They will once they hear the news,” I warned. “Call me!”

“I will, I will,” He said, pausing. Matt looked down at his feet for a moment, biting his lip. “‘Night, Grace.”

“‘Night,” I replied, closing the door as he turned to walk away.

I huffed, turning the light on in the kitchen as I became truly aware of how physically exhausted I was. It was also then that I realized I was still wearing his zip-up.

My brain dragged me to the door faster than my feet could move, swinging it open with haste and calling his name. “Matt!”

He was only six feet away, turning to face me as he heard his name. I stepped outside again, tucking my hair behind my ears as I approached him.

“You forgot to take this back,” I stated, unzipping the sweatshirt and taking it off. I felt the cold, wet air on my skin as I did so, having only been wearing a tanktop underneath.

“You can keep it, I don’t care,” Matt grinned. “It’s old anyway. Not that I want you to have old stuff, but you know what I mean.”

“You’re not sentimental about it? At all?” I asked.

“Not really.”

He was full of shit.

“Are you sure I can have this?” I asked, wanting to know what he was really thinking.

“Not if you don’t want it,” he said, smiling. I loved his smile.

“I do want it. Do you want me to have it?”

“Sure.”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes, I want you to have it,” Matt laughed. I’d been holding the hoodie bunched up in my hands. He gently pushed it towards me, before pocketing his hands again. “I have, like, 80 more.”

I stared at him, hoping to make him crack and tell me that it was his favorite hoodie and that he wanted me to have it in case I ever missed him, but he didn’t. Instead he shooed me away.

“Go get some sleep,” He ordered, touching my shoulder and pointing to the door. The contact and proximity made me veer my eyes away from his.

“Okay,” I huffed. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he laughed softly, turning to walk away. “I’ll call you when I get home.”

“Matt?” I squeaked.

“Grace,” he responded quickly, sounding slightly exasperated. I worried he was getting annoyed with me.

His face was patient, however. I stared at him, studying every detail. The slope of his shoulders and the way his shirt hung from them. His messy, curly hair, which was somewhat damp from the rain. The dorkiness of his glasses and stature as a whole.

“If you’re gonna ask me about the hoodie again…” He laughed nervously, biting his lip as I stepped closer to him. One of his hands left his pocket to reach behind his head and mess with the back of his neck and his hair.

I stopped about a foot away from him to put the sweatshirt back on, leaving my shoulders uncovered. I noticed his throat shift as he swallowed, lowering his head.

I gently grabbed his hand - the one attached to the wrist I wrote my number on - and turned it so the inside of his wrist was facing up.

“Don’t forget it,” I whispered. “Or else.”

I stared into his eyes, his face only a few inches away from mine. It took a moment for him to make eye contact with me, but once he did, he gained that infamous lifeless-eyed look in his face. His shoulders relaxed and he swallowed again.

I, however, was holding my breath. It took me a solid few seconds to psych myself up into sliding my hand gently up his arm, leaning closer as I did so. Matt was quick to hold my jaw in place with the fingertips of his other hand, but hesitated again, staring at my lips.

Then, I felt his nose brush mine, his hand slightly nudging my face upward. I barely felt his fingers at all as they were ghosting my cheek, unsteady.

I could feel his breath now, shaky as I could tell he was shivering and/or nervous. My free hand reached up to touch his chin, guiding his face closer to mine as I broke the space between us and kissed him.

It was gentle and almost hesitant. He seemed to be holding something in, but as soon as I kissed him again, he kissed me back.

It didn’t take long for me to lose my breath, despite how slow our kiss was. I felt weak in the knees and on the verge of fainting. Something about his lips and the way he carried the kiss was so intoxicating.

Naturally, we pulled away, our hands lingering on each other’s faces as we caught our breath.

“I couldn’t help myself,” I mumbled, grinning.

Matt laughed, letting his hands fall from my neck. It seemed like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

I yawned, my body reminding me of its exhaustion. Matt’s hands ghosted my waist as I reached up to kiss him one more time.

“You better call me,” I ordered. “G’night Mr. Sandman.”

“‘Night mamacita,” He said, teasing. I laughed, flipping him the bird as I stepped back inside once again.

The zip-up still smelled like him. I pulled the zipper all the way up and pulled the strings of the hood as tight as I could, trudging to my bedroom to lay down and await his call.

[hwaightme]

Grilled Cheese Philosophy

🥪 pairing: demon!wooyoung x reader 🥪 genre: angst, dark, comfort, soulmates, angel/demon 🥪 summary: Abstaining from a cruel reality became your one goal, and around every corner you searched for an escape from the turmoil. Until a certain soul-searching demon showed up at your door, adamant to make himself a part of your life. 🥪 wordcount: 14k 🥪 warnings/tags: TW MINORS DNI, su!cide attempt, discussion of ed, depression, discussion of death, demon woo, fallen angel woo, soulmates, reincarnation, souls, slow burn, lmk if anything!🥪 a/n: Hello <3 this fic has very heavy themes so reader discretion is advised. Watching Wooyoung's performance to 'Logic - 1-800-273-8255' I felt a call to rework a fic I had, and thanks to senpai-of-doom was motivated add light in an otherwise dark progression. Remember, you matter, you are loved -"you are never alone and you will never be". Love you all, biggest hugs. P.S.: the song quoted is 'She's In The Rain' by The Rose.

 “I had a guy sell his soul to me for some toast.”

“Wait a second, really?” You were bewildered. It had never occurred to you that someone would make a deal with the literal devil for such a simple food.

“I say that…” the demon sitting across from you paused, inspected the cuticles on his left hand and sighed, “…but it was not exactly for a single piece of toast. That would make the story unbelievably funny though, I wish it were the case!” To be frank, you were a little disappointed. You had expected more from your interlocutor’s chaotic line of work. “No, what this guy wanted was to have some, quote on quote, mad toast-making skills. I was not sure for what, but then he laid out his whole plan of making the best grilled cheese in the country and opening a grilled cheese food truck and touring around, watching people queue up for something only he could make well… It was enthralling.”

You could only raise your eyebrows and eye your rapidly cooling cup of tea. After earning a questioning glare from the devil, you realised that he was waiting for polite encouragement to continue conversation. You woke yourself up from your daze and hummed once, as if in thought.

“So, what happened then, did you give him the toast?”

“Here’s the fun bit. Well, I say fun, but it was more routine really. I go, ‘why not just ask to be a genius grilled cheese chef?’, genuinely curious, but he was adamant about just having the toast be done right every time. He rejected the heavier deal flat out. I go ‘you are going to miss out on being the biggest name in the grilled cheese world you so love’ and he goes ‘you see, the world is nothing if you have no problem at all’. I did not get what he meant then, but when the deal was over and done with, it made total sense. What this guy effectively did, was got a tailored eternal struggle that he could manage. The bread was guaranteed to be perfect, but the cheese provided him a sufficient challenge to remain interested in what he was doing.” The devil took a break to take a bite out of his, no, your almond croissant, and rather unceremoniously wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You clasped your hands around the mug more strongly, feeling the last bits of warmth seep away from the untouched beverage. You had no appetite or thirst left in your body, for you believed that it was far more fascinating having control over the decay of your being, especially now that you had been honoured with the audience of an otherworldly power. The devil was rather displeased that you had decided to take the matter into your own hands and go down the path of escaping life without promising him a reward, but you saw no need in making sudden deals. It was your innate passiveness and newly acquired apathy to all things living that prevented you from choosing anything at all.

Even now, you were not motivated to conjure a response for this episode from the devil’s past deals. Instead, you sank into a comfortable silence, enjoying the growing irritation the ‘young man’ was unprofessionally revealing. One tap, followed by two, then one, then three, repeat. A rhythm void of compassion for the mute. Demanding. The devil had nice nails, something you had not noticed before – the only musing to appear in the abyss that was your abandoned mental palace. Whenever your conversations would come to a halt it was as if time stopped. It was holding its breath until one of you would throw an argument into the air and continue the word game. You desired some time in solitude, so you happily challenged the devil with your skilled ignorance of social cues.

The devil exhaled sharply and rolled his eyes, displeased with the death of another attempt to get on your ‘good side’ and stood up. He readjusted his suit jacket and ran a hand through his sleek locks. Like an actor leaving the stage, the demon guest exited the tiny kitchen and turned right, undoubtedly, to check himself in the tiny bathroom mirror, then to disappear behind an old door for two or so hours – his idea of a power nap. For a taker of souls, he surely was too predictable, no matter how his appearance and character attempted to detract from his fondness for structure and patterns. Over the last few days while the devil began to spend longer hours indoors playing the role of a ‘caring friend’ you had the opportunity to grasp the general metaphorical spirit of this ‘man’. In any discussion he had his distinct style. An ebb and flow of the spoken tides, beginning with a head-on collision with either question or proclamation, followed by provoking interrogation and, finally, a theatrical departure once his true goal had been reached.

Nothing was ever direct with the devil. Otherwise, why would you be walking on eggshells when he was talking about grilled cheese? Whenever you got too invested in any of the deviant’s tales, you would remind yourself that the heroes of those stories were, at that exact moment, burning in the deepest pits of hell and feeling the unbearable weight of sin on their shoulders. Then the interest evaporated as quickly as it had popped into your thoughts. Although you must admit, this anecdote was quite amusing. So amusing that you might make a short note of it when the devil would be in his own version of dreaming.

He had explained to you before that the reason he slept so much was so he could preserve his youthfulness, vigour and striking looks, to which you sarcastically replied with the term ‘beauty sleep’, but he misinterpreted it as an honest attempt at relating to his lifestyle. That day, you had involuntarily boosted his already overinflated ego by somehow leading the devil to believe that he was beautiful, and that all of his actions were just how he had expected: rational and justified. You only wondered what beauty there was in him to sleep for.

The devil was not what one would call classically ‘handsome’. As a matter of fact, on your first meeting he insisted that the term ‘devilishly handsome’ was horrendously misleading and the perfect example of a human-conjured myth. Completely out of the bounds of what the media and the average person found appealing, the devil had a total disregard for following mortal aesthetic trends, thereby making his appearance quite jarring. Those to walk past him on the street, would undoubtedly gawk at him and be intrigued by him, and yet, feel unsettled. As though they were prey that had just nearly escaped an apex predator. Of course, he could easily turn up his charms and seduce to his non-existent heart’s content, but that was only if he saw personal gain or needed to fuel his arrogance. Other than that, he was a cold professional.

It was mainly the eyes that gave his true nature away. Eyes that knew. Eyes that were detached from mortality and morality, fixated on business which only he knew. Those unfortunate enough to peer into those eyes would be awestruck to find the deepest chasm of nothing. Not a hint of a personality or a soul, only well-trained responses, and the ideal formula to get an individual talking. That was what the demon had meant when he explained that no devil could be handsome, only frightening.

After making sure that you would not meet the devil in the corridor by waiting for the lock of your guest room, you pushed your chair back and in one motion spun out of it and to the sink, where you watched dark brown, murky liquid pour out of your stained mug you had gotten as a present – a souvenir from The Netherlands. After many years of use and scrubbing the design had faded, leaving only mysterious silhouettes and hints of windmills. Not in the mood to wash up, you left the piece of ceramic to wait for you in the basin and wiped your hands on your trousers. Unlike the devil, your whole disposition and outer image was the closest a human could get to transparency. Your pallid, gaunt face with watery irises that stared out into a bleak grey landscape you had constructed out of your days.

The fiend was a dark-haired lad with a cheeky grin, toned body and a manner of constantly fluctuating between flamboyancy and eccentricity. His pinstripe suit - a tad too big, with a bright crimson handkerchief sticking out of the pocket, messily stuffed and creased. This devil’s eyes were entrancing, even though he had said there was no emotion to see. Not that he would ever hear you admit that you liked them. Deep-set, almond shaped, glowing. A dark, alluring shimmer. If eyes were normally windows to the soul, his were closer to one-way mirror quality. It was the confident stare that had gotten him past the door frame when he showed up in front of your apartment last week.

Inviting himself into your home, the devil acted as if he was an old friend of yours, or like an auntie with a spectacular ability to nag her way through any and all interactions. When you crept out of your apartment and went down to fetch the mail your neighbours had inquired after a certain cousin of yours who was ‘such a charming young man’ and how he showed ‘great promise in the creative arts’. You had to refrain from responding with a guffaw, instead meekly nodding and imagining an actual relative of yours. Last you had heard from San he was working at a beach resort in Mallorca; one of the more adventurous members of your family, he was the only one to bear any resemblance to your unwanted guest, so you did not miss him at all.

San would be the sort of man to think of starting a grilled cheese business. The devil and him would get along well, or it would be more correct to say the devil would find a good client in him. ‘A simple-minded hedonist with no care for the future’, that was what the devil had described ‘deal material’ to be. Truly distant from what you could offer, leading you to question his motives. But he had insisted that you had the potential, and it was only a matter of time before you realised just how much more you could achieve if only you had the devil’s helping hand. You had flatly replied that you hated any form of contact and had departed to your bedroom without a second thought. When you woke up the next morning and walked out to drink some water, the devil was standing in the same place where you had left him. Like so, he had begun hurling success story after success story at you, ceaselessly trying to convince you that soul-selling was ‘not that bad’ and was only going to increase your quality of life.

Why ask for grilled cheese when you are satisfied with a single digestive biscuit? Thatyou’re your philosophy. You need not tread on other meals when something you had tried and tested never failed you. Besides, you had nothing that you wanted to order from the devil. You did not need luck, nor love, nor riches. Your daily activities suited you, and you would not trade them for a sudden burst of foolish, false fame. You ambled down the corridor, inspecting the progress of the crack that had started on the ceiling, and now had gotten behind a painting that you had bought at a second-hand market. An amateur painting of a traditional manor, nevertheless done tastefully and with careful consideration of colour. Pleasant enough to keep in a hermit’s isolation pod.

Having forgotten to undraw the curtains you were met with darkness upon entering the bedroom. The overcast afternoon did not possess enough energy to seep through the gaps. You lazily pushed them aside, accidentally taking the tulle with it. So, you stopped to admire the evergreen outside of your window before returning everything to how it was and looking for a piece of paper and pen in the dimly lit quarters, relying on memory and a stream of light from the rest of the flat.

After settling on an old envelope and a dying pen you heavily abbreviated and paraphrased all you could recall, finishing off with:

Grilled Cheese Philosophy

You nodded and folded the envelope. Chucking the pen into the bin set under my desk you turned and lied down on your bed, hearing the springs creak and curse at you for disturbing them from their peaceful daytime slumber.

-----

Over earl grey and a finger sandwich platter you had assembled from a store-bought set, the devil and you were discussing the concept of business and management. Wooyoung, or at least that was the human name he had picked, out of the blue, for himself, assured you that devil-work was mainly paperwork, and those in his line of speciality rarely had time for the pleasure of direct customer support.

“It is unfortunate. Before, paperwork, archiving and filing was all given to the rookies, but with the increase in regulations and terms of service all of us are neck deep in bureaucratic nonsense. I mean, what’s the joy in writing out a detailed account of how a deal went down? There is no time to form your own style or identity anymore.” This stirred you out of your zoned-out state, and you stopped resting your head on your hand, instead crossing your arms and moving your head as a gesture to continue. You spotted the hint of a smirk dance on his lips, only for a moment.

“Did you know that back in the day, each demon would have their own style of soul collection? That’s right. You could tell who had a contract with who, and when it would end. Back then they really cared about the artistic details, from the devil’s mark to the contract abandonment psychosis… it was all thought through.” Your eyes narrowed at the latter term, so you did not encourage any prolongation of the monologue. Wooyoung caught on quickly, used to your quiet command and with a sip of his drink explained as-a-matter-of-factly:

“Contract abandonment psychosis is a neat thing. See, when you make a deal, that’s it. You can’t back out of it. The psychosis is icing on top of that cake – if you try to avoid your over-written fate then, basically, you start going insane. Think withdrawal symptoms dialled up to one thousand. Once client of mine tried to abandon ship straight after shaking my hand, well, it only took him a week to end up in a mental institution! That guy was unlucky by nature, he never did realise his plans, so I was one happy demon.” He finished, taking a sandwich, and eating it in one bite. You thought that on that your conversation would terminate and you could continue your luncheon to the ticking of the antique clock on the wall, but soon after washing everything down, Wooyoung continued his droning.

At that point you were merely thankful that you were not being forced to reciprocate the enthusiasm for affairs of the literal underworld. You were picking apart the tuna and cucumber sandwich you had moved to my plate, watching crumbs fall and begin to pile. A piece of tuna had managed to slide out as you tore away a bigger piece, and the vegetable’s green flesh was barely hanging on. Wooyoung was watching you, a mixture of contempt and curiosity on his face. He had already devoured two more sandwiches in the time that had passed after his miniature lecture.

“You going to eat that?” He asked, snorting.

“Do you want it?” you shot back, staring right back at him. His lips curled into a smirk, and you saw his expression darken.

“Not when your filthy hands have already contaminated it, you mortal.”

“That, I am. And suit yourself.” you responded, disregarding the threatening tone in Wooyoung’s voice, and keeping on pulling the bread to bits. Now it had become a mission to irritate the demon sitting before you as much as possible. Childish, but one of the rare pleasures.

It had already been two weeks since the beginning of your acquaintance and co-inhabitancy, so naturally you had come to learn of Wooyoung’s pet peeves. One would think that a demon could remain nonchalant for all of eternity, however it seemed that that kind was, on average, more passionate and sensitive than any human you knew. Well, aside from my odd cousin San.

Wooyoung despised loud, open-mouthed chewing. He had mentioned it when talking about one particular client who could not make their mind up about what to trade their soul for. All this over a lunch where this person would not stop chewing in ‘such a barbaric, animalistic way’ – as Wooyoung had described it. That led directly to another one of his annoyances: indecision. As a dealer, businessman, perhaps contract worker, Wooyoung liked the rules and regulations to be impeccable before the final handshake. But too many a times did the poor demon have to deal with hours of following a human around listening to their empty ponderings. ‘Humans have a tendency to become overly philosophical in the most crucial moments,’ he had noted once.

Unrelated to the other two, Wooyoung despised pigeons, which was exactly why it brought you great entertainment to change the location of my casual excursions to a nearby park, populated with hundreds of birds. There you had discovered that he had equal distaste for swans, ducks and, frankly, anything avian. Flying bugs were also not his favourite, for he took great pleasure in disposing of them with your slippers, an old newspaper or a magazine.

Taking notice of the devil’s sources of displeasure allowed you to make note of his emotional cues, highlighting his mischievous and serious demeanours, which were so subtly different you had never taken notice and often had made the wrong predictions in the friendly debates you and him had. A slight repositioning of the shoulders, twitch of the brow, a complex series of taps - all were signs that, upon study, gave you a feeling of control.

While playing with your food, eyes downcast, you took peeks at Wooyoung’s upper body. It was only a matter of time before he exploded, maybe even literally. He regarded food as something practically sacred, so such table manners and misconduct would drive him up a wall. For you it gave a sublime excuse to not eat and continue to peacefully wear away into soothing oblivion. You did not need the devil to be a so-called saviour, watching over you. You continued your act of defiance, now occasionally rolling up the bread between two fingers into tiny balls.

You admired their mouldability. Their smoothness. That grainy, soft quality that most loved, now turned to a primitive wholegrain ball. But even these were not eternal. Morphing into thin snakes, falling apart at the ends, the ball pieces coated your fingertips, latched onto your skin and happily disintegrated. Perhaps Wooyoung was not enjoying the demonstration for its resemblance to what he enjoyed doing to humankind regularly? Tearing it apart just for the sake of it, only to give some false hope to, then punish them with more zeal and erase their self-conjured identity to nothing more than a tortured soul. You were proud of your own accidental analogy and had made it your task to write it down in privacy. Probably after the demon were to leave you alone.

To your delight, your antics sped up the devil’s tea drinking, and soon enough he shot up with a scoff and stormed out of the kitchen. Habitually, you waited before getting your hopes up. A minute ticked by, two minutes, but still no door slam or locking. Were you in for a telling-off? You had become genuinely curious as to what your demon guest had gotten up to. Judging from the end of a long shadow that was at the entrance to the kitchen, Wooyoung was idolising himself in the mirror. Fixing his hair, pulling at his suit, yet again. A meditation through egocentric routine. That could only mean one thing: the devil was sure to come back. Your efforts gone to waste, you toss the remaining crumbs onto your plate, saw some bounce onto the table, and folded your bony arms.

If someone out of your family were to see you now, there would most likely begin every conversation with: ‘oh dear, how thin you have gotten!’, without any awareness of the fact that you were, in actuality, on a spiritual journey to the discovery of self by means of deprivation. In your mind, deprivation also meant starvation, amongst other things. Before the arrival of Wooyoung at one point you had stopped allowing myself the luxury of going to the grocery store, instead choosing to devour remaining canned and long-lasting goods during sinful bouts. Pasta as an only meal for a fortnight could be considered dull by some, but once your stomach had atrophied to an acceptable size and all that your tongue could register was blandness, pasta was the only nourishment your body did not reject.

Wooyoung did not question your eating habits, and for that you had mentally thanked him. Instead, he had merely requested you be present at every meal he had, aside from those out of your apartment – one on one client meetings, he had instantly elaborated.

Your eyes shut, you were reflecting on your speedy self-inflicted resolution. Before you could get to the part where your flimsy, cheap coffin would begin to deteriorate and you would fuse with the soil embracing you, Wooyoung returned, almost glowing, ever so peppy and up-tempo. Apparently, you had reminded him of another ‘magnificent’ story, which he was metaphorically dying to tell, and you were literally dying to listen to.

-----

“A grilled cheese toast syndicate?”

“Yes. I swear on all of my bosses. The grilled cheese food truckers are surprisingly enthusiastic when it comes to selling their own souls for their art.”

“You have only told me about two people so far, and they are co-owners of the same food truck. Your statement cannot possibly hold true.”

“At this point, take it as axiom. Maybe some day I will tell you about January the thirteenth,” I raised an eyebrow, “… or was it April? Either way, it was definitely rainy, murky, a Wednesday, and the thirteenth.” you did not prod him for details. You did not need him to think that some empty collection of his words was a carrot on a stick that he could dangle in front of you.

“Anyways, those guys are mad dedicated, aren’t they?” you huffed in response, getting an eyeroll in return.

He had been doing it so often, his eyes might as well remain staring into the black hole that was his cranium – the only explanation you could find for Wooyoung’s intense self-centeredness and profound elevation of his being not only above humans but also above his own colleagues. This led you to wonder whether there was a defined system hierarchy in his business, or whether a low-level worker could talk down to the big demons if there was enough evidence to suggest they were right in doing so. Did the right to reprimand and walk on the heads of others warp from zero to infinitely high?

If anything, you would have wanted to hear more about demon administration, not caring a single bit for the grilled cheese men driving around on a truck powered by infernal evil. But, that one mention of paperwork and rookie versus regular employee had long since passed, remaining only in your memory and in the list of displeasures of my guest.

Upon Wooyoung’s insistence, you were now seated in the living room, him splayed out on the couch, you composed in the squeaky armchair. It was almost as if you were the devil’s therapist. Give you a notepad and a pencil, and the scene would be complete. You quietly listened to him, the made-up role giving you strength to remain in the room for a while longer and bear with the excessive social contact.

“So, this guy approached me on a Monday morning, right? I was still a bit groggy from a party weekend – corporate events, you see, so I did not register who exactly I was talking to at first, and how this rando could know me by one of my human names. So, I am sitting there, and hear-”

You could see your reflection in the dusty dinnerware display cabinet. Barely a figure, only partially human. Your wool sweater was exaggerating what mass you had left on your shoulders; made your wrists look like fragile twigs. When you acted out, did Wooyoung have the urge to check if they would snap the same way? But what was the use of such actions, when you were the only one in the demon’s life to care enough about what he was blabbering to note it down on a stray piece of paper here, a napkin there. You had made him quotable, thereby valued. Your wrists will survive longer than your cooling core. You did not mean for Wooyoung to find out, but it was bound to happen eventually. You were living together after all. You thought after his freeloading for so many weeks you might just accept him as a family member.

He was so excited, that poor beast. Giddy and giggling he strolled up to you one morning, a piece of magazine between two fingers. You had just finished watering the only plant that had survived your aunt’s ‘love’. You had asked her to take care of them for only two weeks. She had a magic touch Hades touch, you were sure of it. Ironic that you had to travel for a funeral, when there was misery in your own home. Those plants were pretty much people to you; Although you’d never say it out loud, but you missed Fred the rhododendron. Wooyoung had waited until you turned around and faced him, supressing a toxic glower. You had gripped the miniature watering can so tightly you’re your knuckles turned white.

“Got any more like this?” his voice was almost mocking. Like he had discovered a dirty little secret of yours and was about to go around and tell everybody about it. Who was everybody? If it were people who would listen, you would be impressed and let him talk.

Something had told you that you should be confident and accepting on this one occasion. This stance had allowed you to see a child within Wooyoung. As if he had been praised by someone who he greatly admired. Maybe equivalent to a mother putting up a shoddy etch on the fridge with ‘her favourite magnet’. Good demon.

“Got any more of what?” you feigned your being oblivious, unintentionally batting your eyelashes.

“Oh, you know… sayings of, yours truly, that you like so much you immortalise them… Not that I am emotionally mortal to make anything I do be tainted with such silly things, but I appreciate the gesture. Very human, yet very touching.” He had slid the piece inside of his breast pocket, careful not to crease the pocket square more than it already had been. Wooyoung was waiting for you to spill all but you would not budge. You did not feel like it.

While floating in your sentimentalities you did not notice that the demon was now hovering over you, eyebrows knitted together and a scowl on his face.

“You are not listening to me, are you? Repeat what I said.” you rubbed the inner corners of your eyes and stifled a yawn. This was just like primary school. How long ago that was, and yet even demons treated him the same way. You tried to recall what Wooyoung had said last, out of the things you registered.

“Oh,” you began; the demon was expectant, a bit of the gloom evaporating from his features. “You said the new grilled cheese man knew your name.”

“For- for goodness’ sake. That was five minutes ago, you oaf.” You have not heard that insult in a while. It was refreshing. Maybe your oaf-ness will finally get him to shut up for today and leave you be? Not a chance.

“Okay, just for you I will begin the glorious tale again. You better listen carefully now, or I will literally devour your soul.” Big threat for someone who cannot attack a human out of contract bounds without being banished for all of eternity. You bit the inside of your cheek, knowing it was wiser to leave such comments out of the already tense moment.

You allowed Wooyoung to settle back onto your couch without snarky remarks following him. He crossed his legs and threw his arms onto the back, revealing more of the dress shirt he had selected for today. It was undoubtedly an expensive article, remaining creaseless for over eight hours now. The almost neon quality the orange stripes on the item possessed could hurt anybody’s vision if they stared for too long. Wooyoung was taking his sweet time restarting his storytelling, evidently trying me. And here you were thinking that your lack of listening skill would deter people; your guess this specimen was truly not in any way related to the ‘people’ kind.

Now that you took your time to ponder it more deeply, this was another one of his ‘quirks’ – wearing pricy, loud shirts from the high streets, no matter the occasion. He had first appeared before you in all black, wings of the shirt collar an astonishing shade of crimson. When you had asked who had made the piece, not hiding your admiration, his lips had morphed into a dark smile, and he nonchalantly explained that it was handmade by the tortured souls under his command. You had refrained from ever commenting on his outfits since then, and rightfully so - the shirts were all done in a distinct style. Made in hell.

The dandy demon glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and sighed.

“Time for a cup of tea, don’t you think?”

“If you want one.”

“And you don’t?”

“No, I do not, thanks for asking.”

“I guess I will have one later, I don’t care. So, grilled cheese. Where was I? Oh right, where I lost you. So, this dude-”

-----

It was a cool and bright afternoon, with the signs of spring getting stronger and stronger each day. The flowers were blooming early this year – it had been a weak winter. Daffodils nodding to passers-by, cherry trees giving up petals to the wind, the flurry of pinks and whites spiralling off into an entrancing dance. How long had it been since Wooyoung had become your guest, your accidental friend? You stopped counting, and at the same time had lost track of how many notes you had written, now accompanied by sketches and stored in leather-bound photo albums. Finally, you had put your older sister’s gift to good use. She had bought you these empty albums with the hope that her ‘precious sibling would make some good memories and be able to look at them all any time’. So now your only worthy memory was that demon. And to think you were supposed to take photos of ‘friends’ and ‘nature’ and ‘joyful events’ – you did not see enough of any of those to be able to make a record, so any curious eyes would have to deal with Wooyoung being the embodiment of them all.

For the first time in weeks, you had decided to take a walk outside without the intent of going to buy the demon some food, or to browse the isles of the local bookstore. Wooyoung was more than happy to join me – you did not even ask, and he was ready to go. A young puppy from the underworld. You wondered what breed this guy was most like. Frankly indoors he was more of a cat. Little did he know, you were out on a mission, even this time. You wanted to get one photo. The only photo in all three of the photo albums, which would serve as a conclusion. A depiction of Wooyoung; a way of showing that demons had more human qualities than some members of the species.

You had taken a camera, never used, and a full roll of film with you. The demon suspiciously eyed it as it was swaying left and right, hanging from your neck. As soon as you mentioned your plans, however, he gained an intoxicating exhilaration, so much so that you could not resist and took a snapshot right on my street. Wooyoung was smiling wide, his eyes narrowed, spinning on his feet while avoiding fallen magnolia. In the photo it looked like he was stopped mid-dance, his hands positioned with a refined grace.

To be frank, you were enjoying the time that was passing. The number of frozen memories grew exponentially; you had to admit, Wooyoung was a magnificent model – the camera loved his features, and he certainly did not shy away from it, nor was he disrespectful of the machine. Why machine? He could not have become considerate of you and your preferences in the span of the last ten minutes.

His vigour was infectious, and an unfamiliar passion ignited within you. The desire to act, to function, to contribute to the world had been inhabiting much like a parasite for once. You would not stop taking photographs until all film available to you was used up – you had made a fleeting mental promise. Though you were fully aware that this moment was not to last, you were glad that you had gained something to reminisce when you were to breathe your last.

After a street photo session Wooyoung and you continued on your stroll, headed towards a public garden that had recently been renovated. Soon enough, you were surrounded by fragrant flowers in bloom, flaunting their spring fashion. Beings of the Earth naively blithe at the awakening of their planet. What was so warming about today, anyway? Your body had grown so unaccustomed to supporting itself that your soul had cooled to the dangerous status of near indifference. Frankly, your only pleasure was to command Wooyoung to stand a certain way, crouch down and smell the daffodils, caress a branch… The only authority or meaning you had left, serving as a tether before you could finally let go.

Your cutting away from reality to whatever existed beyond was closer than you had imagined – it almost made you feel as if you had been robbed of some precious hours to indulge in hobbies. It was now that you reflected that instead of the variety of mundane elements of routine, you could have been someone great. You could have written the indescribable, cured the incurable, solved the unsolvable. Your speeches, monologues, soliloquies could have been on the lips of millions, uttered and echoed like prayer. You could have eradicated crime, famine, war… become a martyr for the greater good of humanity. But all you had left was to mull over your options of maggots or ash.

What made people great? Did those great people know of their value? Or were they stuck in the same loop of perceived worthlessness, unable to self-validate and allow oneself to turn off the inner critic for a couple of seconds. The greats did not have the time to breathe, instead sacrificing themselves to the choking depths of their art. At the beginning, they could barely keep their head afloat, wading in the viscous fluids of judgement, struggle and challenge. At one point their muscles would be used to the constant burn, and they could pretend to be walking above it all – a slow crawl in search of a shore that does not exist. But at one point, they would inevitably falter, and then, it is impossible to know whether they will drown or stay motionless above the surface, a splayed-out water strider. How you wished you could have had an ocean of your own to talk about in your darkest hour. Pain to make life worth living.

“Do you see them?” Wooyoung’s soothing voice penetrated your consciousness, and you turned your head towards him.

“Hm? Oh, do you mean those people?” you gestured at the couple sitting on a bench ten or so metres away from us. Their hands were intertwined as they lovingly stared into each other’s eyes. You raised your camera to snap a quick photo of the moment. Wooyoung had gone awfully quiet and waited for the photo to develop with bated breath. What was so special about a-

What? Where did they go? You were confused, fear rising in your throat. They could not have- No, they were still there. How could the camera take a picture of the bench but not the individuals sitting on it? Was this some trick? You furrowed your eyebrows and glared at Wooyoung. It must had been some silly prank.

“This is not funny. Are you entertained by this?” Then, softening my delivery you added, “But I would like to know how you could have possibly done it. The lighting, the trees, the flowers are all the same. It’s just the people that-”

“-Are dead.” He ended your sentence with a shocking truth. It was obvious that, for once, he was not being misleading. If you had not known him at all you would have guessed that he was grief-striken. There was an anticipation of something you had only tentatively explored. He had the look of a worn out, hollow man, faced with a horror he had to harden himself up for, if not for centuries, then for millennia.

You were clinging onto your habitual scepticism, but it had turned to lead in water. You had nothing to protect you from the gravity of the situation. You had no choice but to believe Wooyoung – he was a demon, after all. He knew death better than anyone else. But although the easiest option was to blindly trust him, you played it safe:

“Assuming they are dead, how could I possibly be seeing them? That does not seem reasonable. A regular person cannot-”

“Yes, a regular person cannot see the deceased, or when they do see them, they do not realise that they have just encountered the other side. Dead people have a spectacular ability of being unnoticeable even when present. They are just echoes of who they were in real life, so they would never be as flamboyant, attractive or energetic.” you stared at the photograph you had taken so intensely your gaze could burn holes in the film. Not a hint of their being on the bench. “I can bet a soul you would not have seen the two spectres on the bench if I had not pointed them out.”

“Then why did you?” you had the right to be seething. You would shout and give the demon a piece of your mind. How dare he? He had no right to tell me… but then again, you were making your own conclusions. He did not tell you what you did not need to hear to know. Just yet.

“I wanted to make sure of… you know what.”

“What?” you pressed on. It was going to hurt. You had to muster up all my courage to keep this interrogation going. You needed to be hit with the phrase that simultaneously established your success, but with the appearance of Wooyoung in your life introduced notes of loss and regret.

“You are going to die soon.” That was all you needed.

You knew it. From the lost glances that Wooyoung had been giving you the last few days. It was said that there are certain dogs that can smell cancer; demons can smell death, regardless of distance. Your friend from the underworld had explained during dinner a few nights ago that this power was one of the worst punishments, and it was not even hell’s creation. He had stated that Earth reeked of death, another reason why demons did not come out too often, and when they did, they had to have undergone extensive training.

The smell of death was so strong even humans could sense it sometimes, particularly when in severe distress. However, tasks like demographic classification of a strench, or influencing its diffusion to manipulate living beings, were all beyond any demon’s capabilities. As Wooyoung had kindly pointed out, ‘that was the job of the grim reapers, and they were somewhat above supernatural commonality’.

You only needed to look at myself in a mirror or storefront window to know that you were going to die. Your body was in the process of shutting down. Only skin and bone, you hobbled around with barely any energy. You were no longer a human, but an illusion. You could study the skeletal system using myself as a model. Your only potential purpose currently. You had forgotten the meaning of nourishment, only ever treating yourself to stale bread and a glass of water. Although your primal instincts had been rebelling and begging for you to embrace nature and sustain yourself properly, your mind had prevailed. So here you were, finally coming to the personal revelation that you were going to be parting ways and falling, after balancing for enough years. Or not enough. Depends on who wished to interpret.

You were losing. Be it something, someone or generally. You had been losing this whole time. You did not know when your attitude had changed and you began to walk the tightrope blindfolded, but it had evolved from a manic pursuit of achieving daring stunts to playing with your own wellbeing for kicks. This is where you ended up. At the edge of a cliff, no going back; just one step forward, soaring to purgatory. Your last ever rise, for sure.

“So, this is the beginning of the end, as they call it, huh?” you whispered, with your voice barely audible over the rustling of the trees. Wooyoung did not say anything but pursed his lips and nodded. He did not need to elaborate further, knowing that you were perfectly aware of your condition and what was to come. You began to amble down the gravelly path, quickening your pace once you reached the bench with the ghostly couple. You wanted to get away, but only to see another ever so slightly translucent lady enjoying the sunshine, standing barefoot on the grass. You were about to scoff and make a comment about public health and disregard for the new strands but caught yourself.

These spirits had no mass, just like they had no purpose for the living. They could not influence reality no matter how hard they tried. It was impossible. They did not have the necessary human qualities, or the otherworldly powers of a demon to overcome the death-life barrier and do something as simple as feeling the breeze on one’s own skin. The same one that was making you shiver and wish you had brought a warmer coat.

Wooyoung and you were living in a metropolis of the dead, semi-humans in fading grey tones. You had no idea for how long you had been seeing these half familiar, half grotesque entities, walking on ground that was still yours; what used to be real clinging onto the regular man’s delusion, a madman’s fantasy, a sick man’s nightmare. Oh, how much must your demon friend have seen. Did he see those who were beyond saving so frequently that he lost touch with which was which? Did he treat them all the same? Were you still the person you had known yourself to be? From the day of Wooyoung’s arrival, had you been in this state, and stripped of the knowledge?

And yet… you would not have lived your last weeks with the same passive enjoyment, having a sense of power and control over your choices amidst progressive degradation. Although not confirmed, your demon companion had quite possibly withheld information about your own demise. It was true that the appearance of an entity from the inferno should have started ringing a few bells straight away, but you could not be bothered to make yourself care. Sometimes, it was the omission of fact that gave a person true pleasure.

-----

Your notes disappeared. You had woken up at the crack of dawn just to search for them, but to no avail, and it was unlikely that they were in Wooyoung’s room, for you had never given him permission to touch anything you deemed personal. This was the reason behind your gloominess during Wooyoung’s breakfast. You had a sip of water, which you proceeded to spit out into the sink. You were parched, your lips bitten and chapped, but you could not allow for a single droplet to roll down your oesophagus. The demon was not giving you any attention, instead focusing on the eggs benedict in front of him. It was like you were a family, not having to speak to be comfortable in each other’s presence.

You had gotten used to this demon. Now that he was technically more alive than you, you had a stronger pull towards him, a sense of desperation and longing. He had mentioned, in the early days, some of his clients having similar sensations prior to making deals. Had they been on the same cliff’s edge when they had found solace and a temporary solution in Wooyoung? You were not going to give in, and he did not want you to, obviously resisting any temptation to make you crack or to tempt you. Conscious of his effect on your species’ natural ability of being manipulated, he was all smiles and kindness the last few days. It was really a blessing in disguise. Made your passing far more comfortable than you could have ever imagined.

After Wooyoung finished breakfast, you washed up, immediately drying the dishes, and then walked to the living room. You longed to see the street one last time, crack open the window and breathe the stench of the polluted concrete jungle you lived in. You were not going to get to see your neighbourhood bulldozed and converted to skyscraper haven – for the better. There was the same number of cars, the same average number of people passing by. The same cat from across that went out to sit on a low brick wall was there, letting the rays masked by murky ashen clouds sink deep into its skin. It wasn’t as if the whole planet was meant to slow down just for your ending.

You were just a cog, and a cog that had removed itself from the machine so long ago that it had become a foreign object. You had always had trouble relating to people, this was only proven by the fact that it had been easier dealing with a demon; in any case, your innate lighthearted misanthropy allowed for a seamless disappearance. You would not be making anybody sad – in the best case scenario, somebody would be able to tell who it was they were meant to be mourning. Yet another reason why now you were praising myself for radically isolating, you need not worry about the majority of funeral expenses going to entertaining some guests who were likely not bothered to say anything more than ‘oh poor them’ or know anything more than what you had carved onto your face.

“It’s been a good ride, pal. I’ve had some real nice times with you. You might become one of my stories I tell clients, you never know. The antithesis to the piece of toast.” Wooyoung had positioned himself to your left, resting his arms behind his back and staring off into the smoggy distance.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked, turning once again to the horizon. Was the view from this window always so breath-taking?

“More poetic, I guess.” So informative, Wooyoung. Thank you. It rid you of all your pains.

“Yes, very clear. Cheers.”

“Wow, you sure are impressed. Sorry, I can’t explain it too well. You know… hm. How do I? Maybe it’s kind of like the bittersweet feeling you get after finishing a really good book? People can be like that too, for immortals that is. We know about each person’s birth, life, and death, and in there somewhere is that same beginning middle and end that is within every literary masterpiece.” He was inadvertently inflating the perception of your importance to society.

“Now you are making out my species to be way better than we are.”

“Yep, I know.” That was uncalled for, but you appreciated the brutal honesty in your final hours.

You glanced at the vintage clock, loyally ticking away on the wall. A little past three. Seemed right somehow, to get the end started right that instant. Spun on your heels and slowly made your way to the front door of your apartment. You could not care less to change from your slippers to an outdoor pair of shoes, so you exited into the communal stairwell how you was. Wooyoung was trailing behind you, his hands in his trouser pockets. You decided to take the stairs up instead of the elevator – it was not that long of a journey, but anyways you wanted the sort of scenic route towards your demise. Demon boy did not comment, only one of his eyebrows twitched once you were already halfway up the stairs to the next floor.

Soon enough, the metal door leading to the roof was looming before you. A map of some outdated emergency exits, the page yellowed, was framed and hung on two screws loosened by poor initial handiwork. There were meant to be two others, but they were long gone, probably lying around somewhere, with the dust bunnies, rusted and most surely extinct to their purpose. That reminded you, you should get going. Your attention had been constantly drifting ever since you had made the choice to abuse yourself into a state of being able to welcome self-elimination – truth be told in the beginning you had not calculated that this was what your actions would lead to, but now you did not oppose it in the slightest.

The wind was freezing cold, attacking you through the layers of clothing you had on. But it gave you natural encouragement to go on, go forwards and position yourself at the edge. There it was, your final destination. You peered at the concrete below; it was unlikely that you would be a pretty sight, alas you had plans and they had to be gone through with. Only a minor inconvenience for the residence – they would look at you the same way they would look at a dead animal; distract the kids, notice the awakening of a morbid fascination with the macabre, then go about their day, never to give the honour of being pondered to the poor animal again. If only you could possess the same altruistic qualities as those creatures that gave their lives away for the greater good. But you were only acting for yourself. You could have been great, but you could not act great no matter how much you tried. Your steps had led you too far from the ocean, so you had found a bog to sink into.

You closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The air was cleaner the closer one was to the sky, dizzyingly sweet, intoxicating. There was a thirst in you after all. Too late for it to ever be satisfied. Some things were meant to be left unfinished and permanently abandoned. You tuned into the howling of sirens, zooming through your neighbourhood; you were wondering who they were, where they were going. Before you could conjure a whole story for the emergency services that dashed past, stopping when you had ideated a man who discovered the body of a stranger in the middle of his living room and, in a panic, had dialled any car that produced the violent shriek, Wooyoung cleared his throat, causing your eyes to flutter open. You turned your head – he was closer to you than you had initially predicted. Had he been here this whole time?

“I have already collected your notes by the way. Sorry to have gotten you into a bit of a panic, I should have told you earlier.” So now he chose to ever so kindly bestow this upon you. A rapid onset of frustration was rapidly abated by Wooyoung’s apologetic smile. This charming bastard. He knew you would let it go.

He had genuinely not meant to cause you harm in your last hours here, or at least that was what you wanted to believe. The demon had wanted to give you a proper send-off, making sure you did not have any unfinished business on Earth. When you had questioned his motives, asking whether on your death bed he would metaphorically back-stab you he waved me off and took offense: “I get that I am a demon, but you are my friend. I don’t eat my friends’ souls,” It was almost touching until “…not a fan of bitter stuff.” He had an odd sense of humour. You will miss it, if that was possible on the other side.

He had told you that emotions were going to be your most loyal companions there. Your only true companions. Memories would make the occasional appearance too. He had given you a rundown on how to properly greet a reaper to impress them and make the walk through all the checkpoints less unbearable. “Those guys have a tendency to be quite morose. Total killjoys, am I right?” Wooyoung was proud of himself for that play on words. It was with regret that you had to part with his bad jokes.

You were standing at the edge of your ten-story apartment building, the same one you had lived in since university. You could say with confidence that this was enough to crack your thin shell. This day had come when your mind had passed the state of believing the internal alert signs that had flashed endlessly, shutting them off, now choosing to agree with the way of termination you had been preparing for. You took half a step forward, so your toes could feel the curvature of the drop through the grimy cotton stuffed with cheap card. Your demon friend was exasperating, choosing to dawdle and rock on his feet right next to you. What had you expected? This was none of his business. You sighed and could not help but give him a glare. He looked up and gave you a wide, practically coy grin – if it were anybody else, you would have been deeply disturbed, given the reason why you two were here. But Wooyoung was Wooyoung; demons were more than allowed to react in strange ways to the ending of man.

For some reason you could not picture the faces of your mother and father. In these moments people usually thought about their family, right? Normally those were who they left behind to pick up the pieces. But for you the postman that came to your street every Sunday was more vivid than your own relatives. It could be because you had not visited them for what could be seven years. Were they well? You had no clue. But it was no longer your business or concern. Might as well muse about the postman. That gentleman in uniform would have to keep on hoarding any spam and bank statements and charity advertisements that would be sent to your address until finally he would either not be bothered with them, or somebody would move in and change the name in the address lines.

The apartment would sell quickly; it wasn’t like you were doing anything funny inside, if anything you were lowering the value of the whole house, or even the street. Huh, you did have impact on the external world! Go you. At least you would be good at being harmful vermin to your neighbours. Parasitic vermin which they could not get rid of because it beat them to the chase. On the other hand, you were giving a helping hand to anyone who was looking to buy an apartment in this area for cheap – assuming a real estate agency would be interested in handling the post-mortem affairs.

You had watched an interview with an agent in Japan who specialised in houses and flats of people who ended up just like you or had passed of natural causes. Living alone, those people spiritually disintegrated, their physical selves following suit. What came after? The agency ordered a deep clean, transformed the housing and sold it off to those who dared. And that was a prime example of good business. Life went on no matter what one did, and you had nothing but respect for that man, who was effectively fighting off evil spirits that people conjured up in their creative little heads by re-making a place of mourning, a place of death into a spacious, minimalist condo for generations of life after life after life. If not you, then at least your apartment will go on. That was all you were hoping for. You could not be great now, but your apartment… For a split second you considered agreeing to give your soul away to Wooyoung in order to guarantee the protection and bettering of your little habitat, but it was not right to meddle with the natural flow of events. If the flat was meant to outlive you for centuries to come, you would be glad. If not, so be it. Demolition was an acceptable way to go too.

After the whole morning had been overcast, the sun was finally beginning to peer out, making leaves surrounding your building glisten. They were waving at you, cheering me on. The only time you had ever felt supported: “You can do it! We believe in you! Go, go!” Pressure was building inside of you, a spring or a coil, ready to be sent off. You moved my feet back, taking off your slippers. That was what you had seen done in movies and anime, so the footwear did not fall off mid-fall. Or was it just a statement that everyone wordlessly agreed upon? You did not mind following the trend. After they were pinched in my right hand, you bent over and placed them neatly on the edge. They fit into the scene perfectly, as if they were meant to be there, and not being used as platforms for striding around a household. An adventurous, risk-taking pair of slippers. You felt ready.

Tiny bits of gravel and chipped off stone pressed into your feet. You balanced on your heels, toes already hovering above the drop. The wind could probably blow you over if it was any stronger. Your hands were dry, your heartbeat somnolent and your will persistent. You nodded to yourself, and with the flash of the sun, appearing from behind a cloud, you gave in. You imagined yourself as a fledgling, finally leaving the nest, ready to feel the wind under your wings for the first and final time. Your head was spinning as you lost balance and gave into infinity.

You felt free. So free that you wanted this fall to last forever. A sigh escaped you as you could no longer feel your aches, neither physical, nor mental. You were a fleeting moment, passing by, ready to-

You were definitely meant to hit the ground by now. You had personally seen the arrays of windows zoom past you, faster and faster. Then why were you staring into the sun, and still very much alive and breathing? It was as though time had been frozen or was going so slowly that motion was barely there – you tried to move a leg, but it did not follow your command. You tried your arm – same story. What was this? Was this some illusion?

In a click, you were back to speeding downwards, but only for a split second before crashing into what felt like a pair of outstretched arms. Arms which barely moved when you collided with them full force, as though they had absorbed all the impact, transferring it to the earth beneath you. Somehow, they had cushioned your fall entirely, cradling you against something, or rather someone warm, safe.

One of the arms was holding your upper body steady, while the other was holding you under your knees. Once you had gotten rid of your initial shock, a panic settled in. You were not supposed to be here, you were not supposed to be seeing this. You had overstayed your welcome. They should let go! What right did they have to decide your fate like this!? What was this cursed act of playing some higher power and turning you into a puppet? Desperate and livid, you attempted to free yourself.

You were unsure of what you were going to do. It was funny, how you had ceased to plan anything, and were clueless even about the next few seconds of your existence. At least that part you were sure of – you were breathing, you had a pulse, and your chest was about to burst. Tears were welling up in your eyes as you tried and tried to claw your way from the strong arms that now pressed you to their owner’s body. You fought against it, weak fists hitting against the broad chest once, twice, until all you could do was let out a feeble wail and give into the flood of emotion that came pouring out of you.

As your frail frame shook with every sob, intermittently replaced with shallow gasps for air, you felt the someone who had caught you from what you had seen as a certain self-conclusion shift and walk towards the brick wall of your apartment building. There were no windows, no one scrutinising you, only you, the one who, in a matter of seconds decided your fate, and a peaceful spring day. The body had lowered themselves together with you, taking a seat with their back against the cool brick wall, continuing to hold you close.

You were blabbering utter nonsense under your misery-soaked breath, chocked up and lost. You had settled for repeating a never-ending stream of questions beginning with why, ones which the suit-clad body could not, or did not wish to answer. The tears, locked away for eons now being released in honour of what could only be described as an accidental renaissance, were rolling down your crimson cheeks, snaking like streams down your neck and leaving stains on your clothing. Embarrassment, guilt, and regret washed over you in feverish flashes as you attempted to cover your face with your hands.

You hated how you looked when you cried. You hated how helpless you were when you cried. You hated every bit of this humiliation, and yet there was nothing you could do to stop it. It was as though it was not you who took the final step, but a manifestation of all the inhibitions, and toxic limitations you had placed on yourself. A cage thrown from a precipice. And now here you were. That same little bird. That little fledgling. Saved. No longer trapped. But with the hurt not subsiding.

What have you done? Another yelp erupted from you as you rubbed your tremoring hands in circles, feeling every pore, every bit of agony-induced moisture on your skin. You wanted it all to evaporate. To disappear. You did not want to face this. Anything but this. You did not want to face yourself after what you had done. You were such a coward. How did you come to this? What had led you to this foolishness? Why did you not succeed? Because you could not do anything. You could not even control your own life.

Your thoughts were monsters, rabid, barking and biting at you, tearing you apart from within. The noise was overwhelming, dialled up to an impossible maximum as one of your wrists began to bang against your temple. You were so exhausted. You wanted this to stop. So badly. Please. Could. It. Stop.

“Do you hear me?"

A solitary plea, reminiscent of a prayer. Reaching out to you. A promise. A sweet release in the form of music, which had been so core to your darkest hours and your battles against them, that you gasped once you recognised the melody.

"회색빛 안개 덮인 Gloomy day Gloomy day covered with gray fog

눈앞이 가려진 게 두려워 I'm afraid that my eyes are covered

이젠 아무것도 흥미가 안 나 No woah…” I'm not interested in anything anymore No woah

This song was so familiar. So close to your heart. It had been with you through many moments in your life. Through times when you had no one to rely on. Through times when you had been losing hope, but at least for a few minutes, felt like there was still something worth holding on to.

The voice that was singing it was mellifluous, each note embellished with gold, clearing your haze. It possessed a steadiness that was so jarring to your state that you could not help but be jolted out, shaken from a horrific nightmare. You wanted to keep on listening, stay like this forever. Maybe this was afterlife after all? When the voice stopped for a moment, as if unsure whether to continue or not, your hand grasped one of the arm’s sleeves, squeezing it, begging for the song to continue. With a soft hum in agreement, the arm supporting your legs slips back, letting you down onto the ground slowly. In a few quick adjustments, you were now sat between the man’s legs, your back flush against his chest, as he continued to embrace you. Your wings. Your shield.

As he continued to sing, you could feel a pleasant vibration against your own body, with every breath, every sound that filled the air. Slowly but surely, your tears had stopped, leaving only reminders - streaks that had painted over you, and you were stilled to a trance, only following the music. In that moment, the only things to exist were you, him, and the melody. Who knew that this combination could be a safe haven?

“She's in the rain

You wanna hurt yourself, I'll stay with you

You wanna make yourself go through the pain

It's better to be held than holding on, no woah…”

You let out an airy chuckle, lifting a hand wrapped up in your sleeve and dabbing away at the corners of your glistening eyes. This song. Out of all of them. You had not listened to it in so long, though it was always in your memory, like a record left on a turning table. Why now? And how did he of all people, and non-people, know? While still keeping the performance gentle, he went into a cautious crescendo for the final verse, leaving the last line ringing in your very being.

“We're in the rain

떨어지고 있는 이 빗속에서 in this falling rain

흩어져 버린 널 다시 채워 Refill the scattered you

아름다웠던 널 볼 수 있게 So that I can see the beautiful you

No woah, we're in the rain.”

You took the impromptu performance in, relishing in the tranquility that it had given you. As the silence grew longer, however, pangs of guilt made an appearance once more, deciding to pick at your brain and taunt you. You did not deserve this. You had just… you were supposed to… you were told you were going to…

“So, you aren’t even going to say anything about my solo concert? Shame, Y/N, shame.”

You finally looked to the side and up at the man who had restarted your clock. Wooyoung. With his cocky grin and mischievous eyes, and, by total contrast to himself, with the patience of a saint. Otherwise, you could not explain why he was here with you. As though nothing happened. Maybe nothing did. You were now beginning to hope so.

“What’s with the first name basis, demon dearest?” you croaked, throat still hoarse and clogged up from crying.

“I think we have just re-enacted all the standard wedding vows you humans use so I think we can go on first name basis, Y/N.” he jested, mimicking a disgusted tone when saying the word ‘human’.

“But death did not do us part-”

“Thanks to my brilliant, otherworldly reflexes, obviously.”

That was a fair point. Out of all reasons to be alive, you were still hanging on thanks to a demon. To a creature of the underworld. To what one would think is the antithesis to all things valuable on the planet. There had to be a catch.

“You… you said I was going to die.” You mumbled letting your eyes flutter shut and leaning back a little. Wooyoung adjusted your form so that your head could tilt back against his shoulder, and he could rest his chin against yours.

“Isn’t everybody?”

“No, you said, I was going to die soon.”

“Well, oops, I guess.

“Elaborate.”

“Tell me what you thought of my singing, and then I might just satisfy you.” He was unchangeable. But he was here. Still a cunning menace. Reckless, but your saving grace, nevertheless.

“It was good.”

“Just good? I was out there turning my soul inside out for you, damn it.” He retorted. You could hear his smile.

“Your non-existent one?”

“About that…” he trailed off, pausing himself before answering what you had initially thought to be a rhetorical question. This put you on higher alert. You moved a little, so that you were able to speak face to face with Wooyoung. What did he mean?

Instinctively, once you locked eyes with his, you became very self-conscious. Your well-practiced, thoroughly nurtured phobias had stirred from their deprivation-induced slumber and began their routine of hurling insult after insult about how you looked, how you behaved, how you, you were. The last one was a personal favourite of yours: you, an amalgamation of blunders culminating in a virtue-less entity. There you went again, dragged out from the other side only to kick yourself into a corner. But at least you could say you were proof that old habits, did indeed die hard. As Wooyoung saw your previously frustrated expression falter, he could not help but cup one of your cheeks, directing you away from your internal hell.

“Hey, back with me.” He instructed you softly, making you mellow. As he removed his hand, the touch lingered for a little while longer. It was odd, just how easy it was to give into the sensation of being held, being protected, even if it was from oneself. This demon was surprisingly clement and forbearing.

“So, you were saying, Wooyoung?”

Although you were almost certain this had to be trickery, there was a hint at an emotion entirely unexpected from the demon. Upon trying to piece together the bits of body language, and micro reactions that you could capture from your position, you could only read a terribly concealed unease… or shame? Or worry? Either way, it was unlike the conceited hell-bringer you had grown attached to. After his dramatic pause, the man raised his head and gave you an intentionally meek grin.

“I kind of… sort of… maybe used your writing to make a pact?”

“Say that again?” you were bewildered. You had blindly believed him when he had told you he took the ramblings to remove any traces of himself in your life - so much for trying to see the best in demons.

“Well, pacts can be made in spoken or written form, and since I had your writing… well you can guess."

"Who gave you the right to do that?" you asked, venom dripping from the inquiry.

"Look, before you get mad, I have got to say is, I had no other choice!” he blurted out, raising his free hand in front of him in a defensive motion.

Your expression darkened as you peered into his deep brown orbs. As the wind picked up and clouds raced across the sky, you ignored the strands of your dull hair that were making every effort to prevent you from maintaining eye contact for much longer.

“One, you did not answer my question. Two, you could have let me die.”

“Nope. Not an option.”

“Why? And again, who?”

“If I say I am selfish and the answer to both things is just 'me', would you believe me?”

“Partially. Since when do you need me? You wasted enough time already.” reverting to self-deprecation out of habit, you did not wish to argue and instead turned the conversation into a plea for Wooyoung to reevaluate and somehow reverse the process. You were convinced that he had either done it out of pity, or out of twisted sadism.

“Never on you. Do you hear me? Never. Every moment with you is precious.” Again that question. Same one from the song. But now wholly dedicated to you.

You were dumbfounded. This was probably the first time over however many weeks… or was it months, that passed that you had heard him say something so openly positive to you. Previously it had either been a flirtatious comment through which he fished for compliments, or him outright asking for attention from you while he delivered story after story. At least the situation with the missing notes had cleared. They had come into some sort of use, albeit highly questionable.

His phrase. 'Never on you'. Those three little words were giving you room to exist. Providing you with priceless reassurance that to someone in the vastness of space you were not a nuisance. How easily you were swayed now! Nearly cooing because of every word uttered by the demon. Clinging onto every distraction from your own body. You started fading away into your toxic pensiveness, struggling to keep your head afloat.

“You didn’t even ask about the song, and how I knew. Really, we are going to have to work on your ability to ask interesting questions if you are to actually dive into the literary world.” He sounded like a parent, scolding a delinquent child for not paying enough attention in school and skipping.

His mention of the literary world had caught you off-guard. It was true that prior to your spiral your sacred wish had been to become a master of the written word, alas, you had chosen to give it up. But Wooyoung sounded adamant, as though he saw nothing else in your future except the pursuit of your ancient passion. You could not keep up with him, so you remained mute.

“Well, you always did enjoy me taking the lead, so I’ll ask and answer for you, okay?” he added, ever so cheeky. You only hummed in response, preoccupied by your own interpretations of the cryptic introduction.

“I have known you for a while, Y/N. A lot longer than you would think.”

“Okay, continue, sounds promising.” You quipped, making the demon roll his eyes.

“And… how would I say this… there is a reason why I appeared as a demon and not an angel, let’s say that.”

“And that is?”

“It was the easiest way to be with you, Y/N. Otherwise, I would be just a shadow. And I was sick and tired of letting you go. Time, and time again."

"What in the world do you mean?"

"We are bound together.”

You whipped around. Wooyoung was smiling, but it was an evident façade to conceal an excruciating terror that had begun to settle within him as he recounted to you his fall from grace. He revealed to you that he had been a guide for lost souls, tasked to be a bringer of spiritual light to beings of the earth. He was the light heart that one felt when their troubles would be wiped away. He was the freedom felt when a challenge was overcome. He was a candle in a dim reality, fighting in the shadows against people’s troubles. Wooyoung was one to trust easily, fall in love easily, and exist for others.

He was an angel who had been created for continuous self-sacrifice - that was what prophets had told him. And as time went on, he began to crumble harder and faster. It was becoming too much to stand beside these beautiful mortals and see them fall apart, without being allowed to influence their acts directly. Only through cryptic messages, encouraging nothings in moments of somnolence, manifestations… He wanted to do more, so much more!

You had been ‘just another lost soul’ initially. Locked away in your room, moving like an automaton through your human years. Wooyoung had ended up learning a lot about you, memorising your every angle, your every thought. Despite your younger years - a quality that had prevailed through every physical embodiment your soul had, you were composed of suffering wound into a tight Gordian knot – one that he was itching to cut. He wanted to help you. He wanted to be there for you. He wanted to be your guide.

It had been the same in your previous lives. You had burned out before you could produce warmth. No matter the dynasty, nor the nation, you had suffered the same fate again, and again. And every time, Wooyoung had to witness it, and had his heart break into a billion pieces. So much for being soul-bound to a human being.

You reminded him of a little bird. So much ahead of you, and yet the torrential winds of time and circumstance beat down on you repeatedly, forcing your wings back, draining you until you cannot see another way anymore. You had been a wonderful writer in your past life. In three, to be exact. Making a mark on the world - little did you know, you had been quoting yourself all this time in school, in media... a little bird, fatigued, letting out its final cry.

Wooyoung had always been commended for his compassion, but the levels of personal involvement which he had felt towards you over the span of centuries were unprecedented. It was as though he was the candle, and you were the flame itself. In the beginning, just observing you was enough. Seeing how you went about your day and how you glowed. But the wick was never long enough for Wooyoung to be satisfied, and even though he tried, no angel could caress such a flame, reassure it and be present in the moment.

It was easier than he could have envisioned to get used to your presence, and in turn, crave it. Have your attention turn to him instead of the same thoughts, same feelings, same repeating desolation. With every new life your soul experienced, the tiny mark on your body that signified a much deeper connection between you and him was only getting stronger and stronger, more vivid, and it had become undeniable. You were bound together.

He wished for nothing more than to be your bringer of light and break you from this reincarnating melancholic cycle. He wanted to be with you. For you to be with him. To rely on him. To co-exist in nothing but tranquility. And for that, Wooyoung was willing to sacrifice everything. Whatever it took to tip the scales in favour of your survival. He had fallen from grace in the blink of an eye, exchanging status and divinity for a lowly demon rank. Wooyoung was not troubled, making the underworld his home, grateful that his wish had come true. He had a chance to get closer to you before time could run out.

It had not been simple, figuring out the details of his personal contract. He had had to get the blessing of every angel and liaise with his new colleagues to realise the rescue plan he had conjured up in one feverish night. Every step of the way, he felt selfish. Your agreement was out of the question, so he had to act in secrecy, using your written word as proof of your feelings and of mutual attachment to convince the higher powers that there was a kindling hope.

It was not something he wanted, but he had to let you push yourself to the limits so you could be reborn. As his redemption. As his saving grace. He had no certainty that his plan involving you would work, even though there were signs. But he sure as hell was willing to try. And there you were, in his very arms. The chance. His love. The future.

Every pact had an exchange. His was simple. And very 'Wooyoung'. Your healing, for his divine punishment. While he would be burning in damnation, he would be helping you rise above the flood. To him, it was a way that was only natural. And he would not have any other alternative. From the greatest depths he was going to crawl, and claw his and your way forward. You were his divine soulmate after all.

As he divulged his real story to you, his true self, you could catch glimpses of who he had been, all across his features. Though what he had not mentioned yet, instead resorting to an ambiguous 'pact', was your heavenly ties to him. He could not expect you to love him. He could not force you to accept him so quickly. If it took centuries more, he was willing to wait. Time was not an issue; he wanted your heart to heal.

You were perplexed. Why did Wooyoung throw everything that he had away? Was this foolishness? Was this a lapse in judgement? Whatever he was looking for, you were sure he could not find here. There had to be another reason, something-

“Like I said, I am bound to you. So, apologies, Y/N, but you are going to have to deal with me for… a while. Now don’t worry, you are not the only one who will be on a journey, so we will be helping each other. Okay?”

“Bound?”

“Like I said. A pact.”

“So, you will take my soul?”

“That’s what demons do.”

“Aren’t you one... now? Don't you sort of have to take souls?”

“Not exactly. I just explained. Had I been a true demon, I would have been able to steal your soul on the first day we had met. Just like that.” He clicked his fingers, representing the speed at which the action could have been performed, had he had the ability. "I have to go through the paperwork to do my present duties. Dull, but at least I am still myself, more or less."

“Then, fallen angel it is.”

“Yes. Much like you, after that stellar dive.”

“Did you just-”

“If there is anything you certainly know about me, is that I adore being tactless.” He reminded you, making you snort.

“That you sure do. Maybe that's why you decided to leave the angelic realm." you stuck a bit of your tongue out, poking fun at Wooyoung, who took to your higher spirits and beamed.

"What will you do, then?” you tried.

“Only what had already been done and determined by fate.”

“Cryptic.”

“Very much so. But we will go in baby steps. Now, let’s get you inside, and get started, together. You ready, Y/N?”

He was searching for hope. For a new life. For fight within you. One that would prove to him that there was, indeed, a chance.

“Reborn ready, Wooyoung.”

As he helped you up and, an arm wrapped around you, guided you back inside, his gaze could not help but linger on the small mark on your ever so slightly exposed shoulder, exactly matched with his. He was going to tell you what it meant eventually. When you were ready to hear and to listen. The stars had long made the decision for you both, and he simply gave in. If this meant that he had to be a demon for eternity, he was willing. If him and you could be redeemed, he was ecstatic. But that was distant for now. In the present, the only thing certain was you, and him. The rest was only a series of embellishments to lead you to healing and acceptance. But it was clear. You were never alone, and you will never be.

[foxes-that-run]

Me!

Firstly the Video is a Haylor fest, as the lead single for Lover. It opens with Brendan and Taylor fighting in french.... made while Harry had a french girlfriend... Olivia and Meredith appear as daughters, a reference to 'Who is Olivia's Real Father?' in the Reputation TS Tabloid. Brendan then wears a floral suit (like Harry's on LOT 07/11/2018 San Jose, California) to give Taylor a kitten to make sure we know it is Harry laughing in the Olivia video. Benjamin also appears in the green room of the Lover video.

Actually before that open, a pastel coloured snake turns into butterfly's. There is a butterfly in every Lover video, on Taylors shirt and in a snake/butterfly tattoo in You need to Calm Down.

Of course, Harry has a large butterfly tattoo and in one Direction song he wrote, Olivia Harry said " The summertime, butterflies / All belong to your creation / I love you, it's all I do, I love you" he also tweeted this lyric before it was released. There is an adorable video of Harry implying Olivia is an emotion not a person.

A Ghost/Phantom reference for HYGTG, Stockholm Syndrome, Two Ghosts & Ready For it

And Taylor is walking in clouds which is referred to in the HS videos for Daylight and Late Night talking.

Throughout, Brendan Urie wears several suits that look like what Harry wore on Live on Tour, I put them all at the end. My favorite is this blue one where Harry sang Shania Twain's 'Still the One' at Madison Square Garden. (He loves TS so much, June 22 2018) TS invited Niall to play Wembly the same night. The other reference is from LOT Chicago, June 30, 2018.

Finally, the leaked Two Ghosts video gets a reference at the end. This makes me even more curious about why we never saw it, if Taylor did - did it serve it's purpose????? The stills were leaked in April 2020 - Me! was released April 2019, were they leaked for an anniversary of the video? Two Ghosts had been a single in 2017.

Lyrics

I promise that you'll never find another like me I know that I'm a handful, baby, uh I know I never think before I jump And you're the kind of guy the ladies want (And there's a lot of cool chicks out there) I know that I went psycho on the phone I never leave well enough alone And trouble's gonna follow where I go (And there's a lot of cool chicks out there)

A theme is that they cannot replace each other, Harry says as much in As it was with "Seems you cannot be replaced / And I'm the one who will stay, oh."

Not thinking before jumping is also similar to a Little Freak lyric 'jumped in feet first, broke an ankle, karma rules'.

He is indeed the kind of guy ladies want, which is covered again in Gold Rush. Taylor has a similar lyric to 'never leave well enough alone' in the One "digging up the grave again"

But one of these things is not like the others Like a rainbow with all of the colors Baby doll, when it comes to a lover I promise that you'll never find another like Me-e-e, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh I'm the only one of me Baby, that's the fun of me Eeh-eeh-eeh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh You're the only one of you Baby, that's the fun of you And I promise that nobody's gonna love you like me-e-e

Harry has a similar lyric in Adore you "Walk in your rainbow paradise (paradise) Strawberry lipstick state of mind (state of mind)". Again, the idea of the song is that there is no one like Taylor or Harry for the other. As it Was has the same idea: "In this world, it's just us / You know it's not the same as it was".

Someday (Harry sung by Ariana Grande and Buble has a similar lyric to the last line “And I can't lie, it's hard seeing you with her 'Cause I know she can't love you like I can”)

I know I tend to make it about me I know you never get just what you see But I will never bore you, baby (And there's a lot of lame guys out there) And when we had that fight out in the rain You ran after me and called my name I never wanna see you walk away (And there's a lot of lame guys out there)

How You Get the Girl opens with a reference to a fight in the rain and the first ghost reference "Stand there like a ghost / Shaking come the rain, rain / She'll open up the door / And say, are you insane, -ane?"

'Cause one of these things is not like the others Livin' in winter, I am your summer Baby doll, when it comes to a lover I promise that you'll never find another like

Taylor again references summertime from Olivia, and living in winter (London). There is a similar lyric in So it Goes, "I make all your gray days clear"

Then comes spelling is fun which think it is another Harry loves Scrabble reference.

Here are more of Brendan's outfits and their LOT counterparts

The California outfit has a.... Medicine reference.