#this wasn't based off the song but i want to base something off it someday i like the context

[paimonial-rage]

title game!

this title might be rather limiting, but i love the paradox of it.

"full of emptiness" (from astronauts, rachie's translyrics).

i can't think of a character for these titles, so do as you wish! -- @milkstore

full of emptiness - nilou x reader [title ask game]

You couldn't help the disgusted curl of your lip as you passed by a familiar flowery dressed woman. While she had no reason to know you, you knew her well. Nilou, the famed dancer of the Grand Bazaar. She had been causing much trouble for the Akademiya as of late with her foolish blabberings about the Sabzeruz Festival. Sometimes, a part of you felt pity for people like her. What was it like to have minds full of such emptiness? To care about such useless things?

You didn’t pay much heed as you watched her make her way over to the landing before the entrance of the Akademiya. You remember seeing her a day before meeting with the scribe, a filthy eremite, and the General Mahamatra. In the back of your mind, you knew they probably were up to something. You remembered quite well how the disappearance of General Mahamatra caused a stir. But whatever they had planned, the great Akademiya would put a stop to it. You had no doubt about that.

So never did you expect your brain to go blank the moment Nilou began to dance. The sway of her hips and the fluttering movement of her hands lulled you into a trance. As the water flowed around her in hypnotic swirls and waves, your heart began to stir. Yes, it was as if she was the Goddess of Flowers herself.

By the time her beautiful blue eyes set you free, the Grand Sage was in jail and replaced with the scribe, the General Mahamatra was returned to his rightful place, and the Lesser Lord was set free. Not only that, large changes were made to the Akademiya and the general mood of your fellow scholars seemed to have raised by a good 50%. If you had to be honest, you had no clue what was going on. 

Perhaps the only empty-headed person here was you.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi! If you're still taking requests I'd love request a drabble about the moment when Konig and Reader first noticed each other and what they thought/felt during that moment based on your "Just Friends" fic.

Btw I love your work and oh my god, it's perfection, absolutely amazing. Super excited to read chapter 3&4 (no rush take your time!!)

Thabj you!!!

Even Demons are Lonely

Wordcount: 3.8 k

Summary: König sees reader for the first time. Soon, the promise to never touch someone as lovely as her turns into a vow to never leave her side.

Tags/warnings: F!Reader, König POV, Just Friends universe. Angst, twisted & fluffy feelings, pining, obsessive behavior, stalking, panty stealing, mentions of past trauma, abuse and patricide, yandere!König falling in love (=being delusional). Mild sexual and violent themes. 

A/N: I did take my time with this one... 🩷 And it's only König POV, but I hope you enjoy! 💋

"Abashed the Devil stood, and felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely – saw, and pined His loss..."

– John Milton, Paradise Lost

Purgatory.

That's the word that stuck to him when he was learning English at school, simply because it was an accurate definition of how he felt.

Adults used to say there is heaven and hell, and then this world, the world of humans, somewhere in between. They said he would go to heaven after he died and that bad people would go to hell.

They were all liars because hell already existed here on Earth. He had lived there ever since he was born.

The first memories of the cutting are shallow and pale, like they happened to some other boy. With every hit and cut and every cry, the sounds turned muddy until he was mute too, until all he could hear was mother's crying and Papa's roaring. The old man always got more mad when people cried and cowered. 

That's when he knew he would someday do something about bad people, that crying and cowering and begging wasn't going to help. It was the birth hour of hope and heaven. He dreamed of killing his father, killing his "friends", killing everyone who looked at him like he was a freak. 

He soon learned that this was not what people associated with heaven at all. He learned that there was a word for people like him, for phantoms who were morbidly interested in death and decay.

Ghoul.

A grave robber and a corpse feaster he was not, but neither was he going to pretend that some people didn't deserve to be gutted. If being normal meant he should just play along and pretend that there was justice in this world, then he was happy to be morbid. A little ghoul boy who grew up in hell, who dreamed of heaven, who slipped behind the thin veil between the worlds when he was four, who learned how to make the knives dance while everyone around him suffered.

He learned to cry and beg before he learned to speak, but when the words finally started to make sense to him, he had no use for them. No one wanted to talk to him, so he settled to observe. Life was a film reel running by, and words were useless when all he wanted to do was roar. There was a growing, gaping maw inside him, shrieking and spitting blood while he was without a voice.

It took a while to make Papa cry and beg. But he begged, eventually. In his last words, he tried to hide behind a woman’s skirt. 

"Don't do this to your mother," was a plea that didn't ignite mercy: it drove him off the ledge. Looking at the horrible excuse for a man squirming at his feet made him realize he should've released his mother from this demon years ago. He was too weak, and he vowed to himself, to the whole world, that he would never be weak again.

………………

Sometimes, a glimpse of true heaven can be seen on a clear summer's day when the sun shines, when bees are buzzing and a beautiful voice sings a love song on the radio. Beautiful, peaceful things only add to his suffering. They are simply evidence gathered – examples of everything he will never have. 

The air clots inside his mask with a brew of old sweat and acrid gunpowder. It's usually enriched by a hot desert wind or the stench of dust and emissions, a city's rotten core. It would feel odd to be met with a fresh breeze or the smell of rust and smoke than have them dampened by the baggy mask. He's certain that it would only be painful to feel the full brunt of the world on his naked face again. His enemies can't see him when he kills them, so they can't haunt him either.

He is the only ghoul here. He is the one who haunts.

He's learned to let love and peace go. He came here to reap; that's his job. Ghouls cannot love or be loved. They are supposed to get rid of the plague, do what normal people can't do, what good people deem hideous and wrong.

People have always been alien to him: they both know something he cannot seem to decode and are unaware of the constant presence of the Maw. He has to feed it in order to not be swallowed by it himself. It helps with the constant yelling for a while. 

His father was the first demon to be punished, but he has learned that all demons are liars when they beg. They don't know what real hell is like. That's why he didn't give mercy to his father, and that's why he doesn't give mercy to them, either. It's not hell, it's not heaven, so he must be in a limbo state in between. 

That's why he calls this place purgatory. 

………………

He sees a woman under the sun one day.

The sheer sight of her sitting there on her little blanket spread over the grass, dressed in a pure white dress is like a torturing dream from above. It stops him in his tracks like there is suddenly an invisible wall in front of him, forcing him to halt.

His heart is pounding, but that's not new. His heart is always tight and racing, and that's why it's better to have a heavy gun in his hands than hold onto nothing at all; it's better to do something than do nothing at all. The only thing that calms the endless roil inside him is work; when there's no work, it helps to go outdoors, somewhere between the shadows between thick trees.

Trees are better than people...

But they're not better than a woman like her.

He knows his mind plays tricks sometimes with females. That is why at first he thinks that the creature before him is not from this world either. How could someone like her even end up here? There are few ladies in the base, and none of them have picnics; none of them look like angels.

She looks up at the sky, at the single cloud drifting across the cerulean blue that hurts his eyes. Sun shines on her exposed throat, her stare is dreamy as she basks in the warmth and raises an apple to her lips. 

He stops breathing as she takes a bite, fearing it might stain the beautiful white dress from how juicy it is. The runaway apple juice drips down her chin, but she catches it with her finger, then sweeps the sweet taste of it back into her mouth. 

Her lips hug the finger gently as she savors the treat, and his breath returns to him, heavy and with a pang, like someone just punched him between the lungs.

She can't be human... 

He wonders if she's even real. 

He's hungry, but the need to devour this woman turns into a need to worship her before he can even decipher what is happening to him. He would grovel at her feet if that's what it took to get her to feed him some of that fruit. His mind goes numb from the need to march there and hug her. Just hold her, so close that he forgets what it is to breathe.

He knows she would only scream, and it's good he's been walking in the shade. It's good that she can't see him unless she turns her head. Because she must be an angel, and angels have no business with ghouls. 

He should go and leave her be... Mortals he can want, humans he can torture, but a celestial being he could never touch. The wind carries a whiff of apple juice to his nose; it overrides the stench of sweat and gun oil and smoke. 

And then the angel turns her head. 

It's Judgment Day, but she doesn't condemn him. She blinks a few times, lashes fluttering like he's another sun, the dreaded black sun, and she can't bear to look directly at him. But there's no disgust, no uneasiness, there's no fear. There's only shyness and the smallest smile. 

The pain inside his gut turns into a brutal stab, pure suffering. He hasn't hoped for anything for a long, long time. Now hope bleeds into his stomach with golden tingles, like those rays of sun that caress her skin.

He thought good things would feel… well, good, but to his horror, they feel painful too. She's painfully sweet. Even the demon inside him falls silent, the only demon he cannot destroy. It's finally quiet, as it should be. Everything in him bows to this greater power of Her. 

But she can't be real... His mind is sick and has finally conjured up the most beautiful thing he can never, ever have. He's been called a freak, he's been called a dumb ugly giant, he's been called so many things, but he's not stupid enough to think that the creature hugged by the golden aura of light is meant for him. 

So he squares his shoulders and pushes through the invisible wall, back behind the veil, back to where he belongs, and leaves the heavenly apparition in the sun.

………………

The next time he sees her is after a mission and inside the base. 

He brings mud and blood inside after a few rainy days spent in the mountains. He's so soaked that not even the 3-hour flight managed to dry all the dirt. She's waiting for him, or that's how it feels like when she gives him a small, relieved smile and starts to clean the mess he and every other operator leave behind.

His angel is not only a celestial visage but a cleaner.

She keeps the building that houses people who destroy life, clean. She scrubs the filth killers like him bring inside the cold, dead compound built on what used to be a forest full of birds, life, and wind through the trees. 

No one thanks this girl as she humbly dusts a table or mops the floor. No one understands that she's a saint for coming to the purgatory and making it a more decent place for the demons and ghouls to live. And she's relieved every time he comes back unharmed. She's happy to see he's alive. There's someone waiting for him. And not just someone, not just anyone, but an angel.

It's unbelievable how no one has claimed her yet. She has no one to keep her safe, and it makes his hands twitch. If he was her protector, she would never have to work again.

She's not like the rest of them: she doesn't turn her gaze away when he flicks a knife out. She likes to watch him make them dance. It's a ritual that makes him invincible on the battlefield. He used to do it every morning before school to stay safe – there were no angels back then to keep him alive.

He almost stops the first time he sees her watching how he goes through the rite. 

No, look away, little angel... You're not supposed to see this; this is a death dance, it's filthy, demonic magic.

But she's not afraid of his blades or the way he weaves his spell of protection. The girl follows his moves entranced. Her eyes shine, and he nearly drops the blade – he hasn't dropped a knife since he was ten – because there's hunger in her stare. Not as fathomless as his, but deep enough for him to recognize it. 

His angel is lonely and trapped too. 

He completes the dance, returns the knife to his pocket, and looks back, straight back.

She doesn't look away. She doesn't wince or lean back, no: she leans forward, and he can see it, the way her pulse flutters on her neck, the way her mouth opens even more, how a tiny pink tongue sweeps across her lips as she looks back into the jaws of damnation. It takes him a while to realize his angel must be wet, just from seeing how good he is with a knife. The notion doesn't only make his cock jolt; it throws him headfirst into the abyss. 

You'll never get rid of me now, the demon growls before he can choke him silent.

Her wet eyes, her wet, promising lips belong in a realm of madness. She's not filthy; his angel could never be filthy. But she's seducing him, which means she might seduce other men too. 

Has someone claimed her already…? 

What if she has a lover? Do they make her legs shake, do they make her mew?

Who does he have to kill?

………………

He breaks into her room that night. 

He only meant to stand watch and see if someone creeps to her in the cover of darkness. He thinks about different ways to kill her lover as he waits near her door. Should he just strangle them when they enter her room? Make her an offering, let her know she could have a far more powerful male if she wants?

No, he must use a knife... She will get wet if he uses a knife.

But no one appears: he is the only shadow in the dark hall, and after midnight, he decides to take a look at his innocent, sleeping angel. Just one look.

Her domain is full of softness, and he has to take a few deep breaths before he continues. Her world is so different from his that he nearly turns back and closes the door to paradise. But then her breathing calls to him, causing him to take a few steps. She sleeps with her window open, likes to listen to the sound of night birds before she falls asleep – just like he does…

The demon is awake in an instant and grabs him by the throat. 

No. 

Don’t look. If you look, she will steal your soul.

He freezes before he reaches her bed. His gaze sweeps her room instead, and the demon pants at the sight. Her dresses are laid out on a clothing rack: they salute him like a row of colorful flowers. Flowing and singing like a river, they hit him with a breeze made of life and all things good. 

She has a little armchair filled with cushions, and there's more softness and beauty everywhere he looks; he can see it even in the darkness of the night. Her delicate perfume that follows him as he follows her around the base lingers in the air and mixes with the distant birdsong and moonlight that shift the curtains in her room.

There's art on her walls, lively houseplants on the window sill, she has collected a cavalcade of cute little things on top of her drawer: nail polish and sea shells and beeswax candles and a piece of driftwood, a bottle of that perfume she uses, decorative lights above it all, placed around a small mirror. 

He wants all of that. 

He wants light and living things and greenery – he never had plants at home – he wants softness and cute little items, he wants to listen if the seashell still roars with the crashing waves were he to bring it to his ear. His mama always told him seashells remember the ocean because it used to be their home…

He wants her to light a honeyed candle and give him a bite of that apple, catch the juice as it runs down his scarred chin, or better yet, kiss it away before it falls. He wants to taste what's between her thighs. She must taste like honey and heaven.

One of the drawers is open, and from it, a torrent of cute little underthings is spilling out; they almost cascade on the floor. In different colors, too, and his hand reaches out and takes one before he can even think. He steals it like it's candy, then turns around with a stiff back and shoulders heavy from the sin he just committed.

He's about to go to the door, but her soft breathing calls him back. He tries to calm the demon - the girl can't steal anything: there's nothing left to steal. He has no soul, so he doesn't have to fear her either. 

Taking a few steps, he takes the peek he shouldn't take because it will only prolong his sentence in purgatory. Little does the demon know that he would suffer eternally for one little glimpse… 

She's not cocooned inside her blanket as he thought she would be. He thought he would find her coiled into a fetal position, curled into safety, but instead, she's sleeping on her back, arms spread next to her face, looking like she just fell from heaven and is feeling a little dizzy from the fall. She's calm and innocent as the moonlight brushes her cheek, her face free from all worry.

Why is she so cute, why is she so sweet? 

She has no right. She should be up in heaven.

He almost crawls on top of her right then and there, because blinding want is nothing compared to this. He wants to breathe her, breathe with her, hold her gently, and have her smile at him when she wakes up. He doesn't want to ruin her… He just wants a taste, see if an angel would like to have a demon worship her. If his worship would mean anything, if it had any power to persuade her to like him... 

He would never kneel before anyone, but he would kneel before her. In spirit, he is on his knees, and the only thing that makes him suffer is the fear that she might not want him, a ruined temple haunted by old, hateful spirits.

The madness was right. Apparently, there was a soul to steal, a tiny broken mosaic piece left, for the angel has it now. She owns what's left of him, the haunted temple is hers if she would ever want to come visit. He would restrain all those monsters so that she can walk freely and explore all the things buried under the rubble.

Her underwear burns his palm like a flower on fire. He only then realizes that there are no actual flowers in her room. He wonders if she would give him a kiss if he were to bring her one. Or two. Or an entire bouquet…

The demon inside cuts him with a searing blade – stupid idiot – she doesn't want to kiss your mauled face or love your ghouls. There's no treasure hidden inside that filthy rubble, there's only shit and blood and festering vomit. Better to just take her right now, see how tight she is, how wide her eyes go when a proper man comes to assert his will and authority. The demon tells him to at least ruin that cute thing in his hand and throw it on the table. Imagine her shocked little face when she wakes up…

Tears brim, and the maw of hell laughs with a roar of raging fire. He forces both down with a swallow and a wrench that shuts his heart.

There's no way she would ever let a man like him inside her. He's a sickness; no, he's an entire plague. He could try to make love to her, and she would only cry and bleed to death.

The smooth place between her brows gains a wrinkle as if she can hear his thoughts but doesn't agree with them. A little whimper escapes her nose, her head nods on the pillow; it looks like an attempt to hide while you're tied and cannot move. 

Pretty angel is having a nightmare, and it's no wonder. Of course she can sense she's being visited by a monster. 

He turns to leave, and notices another colorful thing on the floor: her underwear, and not clean. She's slipped out of it before bed: his angel is naked under that blanket. His angel sleeps naked…

He wonders if she has touched herself before sleep. Not with feverish, stern hands, like he does, but softly, under that blanket, with her features melting into pleasure as she comes with sighs and a series of desperate little whimpers. 

His blood turns to hellfire as he drops the underwear he's holding. It falls right next to the intoxicating thing he picks up instead. Taking a deep inhale, he can finally smell her. Not just her perfume, but her. She smells of an angel and a woman, raw, perfect woman, and he knows he's lost. This is worse than any dream or demon; this is worse than anything ever before. There's no going back now. 

Her scent calls to him, those hands frame her face in a gesture of surrender. She smiled at him on that day under the sun, and she smiled at him today.

What if he's spent enough time in hell? What if it's possible to have a taste of heaven?

He can't help but wonder if his angel wants this too... 

“Engel,” he whispers into the night.

It takes only a second before she whimpers again. It's an answer, it's a yes, and his heart is full of tiny needles; they pinch him with terrible love and hope. The wrinkle has smoothed out, and his angel is smiling very, very softly. 

She's calling for him. How could he refuse?

His angel is full of light as he makes his decision. He whispers his apology, only in his mind and only in German, trusting that angels must know every language in the world. He asks for her forgiveness for all the things he's about to do to her. Then he promises he will come for her, that she doesn't need to worry: she has a guardian now and always will. She will be forever safe with him by her side. He will drive even her nightmares away.

Then he returns to his room so different from hers, returns to the realm of death and worships the thing he just stole, spraying it with hot, white love - the only thing inside him that can be called pure, the color of angels. It's only a matter of time before he gets to worship her in the flesh, unite with her, the soul who forgave his sins and slipped him the key to heaven.

[fernsnailz]

Hellos. I have been spending the past twenty minutes looking at all the junkyard phantom stuff you have posted and mmmmmmm is so fuckin good!! I had a couple questions. 1. Do you have any plans for junkyard phantoms merch? I went to your merch store hoping for some but there wasn't any (although that Miku sticker is mighty tempting.) 2. I was thinking of making some playlists based on the characters since you made the playlist cover art things. Do you have any kind of music that you think each of them like or should I just go off vibes? Thank you for making such wonderful art:)

wah thank you!!! i've thought about making oc merch but i don't have any solid plans for it at the moment - something i've considered is if i ever make a junkyard phantoms comic (THEORETICALLY. NO GUARANTEE FOR THAT) i'd like to set up some kofi memberships for people who want to support the comic, then maybe have some merch or a sticker club as a part of the membership benefits! no guarantee for that right now tho lol right now i'm just having fun drawing them in my free time

as for music, i have my own playlists for them but i'll probably keep those to myself rn because my spotify is embarrassing lmao. but if you wanna make your own i'm cool with that, so here are some ideas for ya:

Check: there are a lot of genres in my playlist for Check but most of the songs are a bit slower and more thoughtful. this is usually the playlist i listen to while driving on empty roads at night if that gives you an idea of what it's like. some select songs are cul-de-sac by glass beach, House of Mirrors by Softcult, Reproductive by Shamir, and Mother by Anjimile

M8: M8's playlist has a lot of instrumental tracks on it, but most of the songs are either slow and nostalgic or overwhelming and electronic (this is a genre i call "robot headache"). some select songs are I'm Going To Go Back There Someday from the original Muppet Movie, Uncanny by Ghost and Pals, A Human's Touch by TWRP, and BaBopByeYa by Janelle Monáe

Lucy: Lucy has a lot of math rock, psychedelia, and shoegaze in their playlist - the vibe for Lucy's music is very much "overwhelming inner turmoil." some select songs are Let Me See by Morcheeba, Fundamentally Unlovable by Tiger Really, I Been Young by George Clanton, and Andromeda by Weyes Blood

[laooneart]

The Babysitter Club

Ok so did any of you know Joe Keery was a musician? I didn't until like two weeks ago. He is not only an amazing actor but also an amazing musician, and it got me thinking that maybe Steve should include some musical talents into the fanfics? But I didn't come here to tell you to do that if you're a writer, I came to propose this AU I've been thinking of for a while now.

It's summer in Hawkins and there's nothing to do or hear on the radio, when all of the sudden people start talking about this new band that's been broadcasting their music and some song covers on the radio. It's new and everyone loves them, but the thing is, no one knows who they are since they've never revealed their names to the public. The town started calling them the "Babysitter Club" since their broadcasts start after care few and it just seemed to stick to people's minds.

Billy has heard of them obviously but has never actually listened to their music since he thinks it's not really his style, but with nothing to do and a radio in his room just gathering dust, he turns it on and starts looking though the centonizations until he lands on one that seems to be it. The song starts with a bass, followed by a guitar chord and a drum; that's when he realizes they're playing "Psycho Killer", he decides to leave it on for tonight, at a volume he can hear but is quiet enough that his father's snores won't allow the same to hear the noise and come shut the radio and him up.

A few months ago

Their freaking vocalist just quit.

What.

The.

FUCK.

Nancy tries to convince them to stay but it's decided, they found a said "better band than this clown show" and they're out. Eddie is furious and Robin is just sitting on the couch thinking of something and murmuring to herself.

"We're so screwed" Eddie said after almost bitting the head off the poor ex-vocalist.

"Well, it's not like we were getting any popular or any gigs so" Nancy said closing the door to their practice room.

"Wheeler we just lost our vocalist" Eddie bit back pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You can sing, Eddie" She crossed her arms saying this.

"Not the songs we play, I'm a metal singer not a soft rock one" He mimicked her stance and crossed his legs while leaning on a table.

"We agreed our base music would be soft rock, it's the ground level for everyone. Plus it's what everyone listens to these days. I promised that we would play a metal song, someday, but unless we start making decent money out of this it isn't happening"

"Yeah, well then there go our dreams of a band...Robin what the hell are you muttering about?" Eddie had finally had enough with Robin's muttering.

Robin looked up with glow on her face and then said with a smile neither Eddie nor Nancy had ever seen her with, it terrified them.

"I think I found our new vocalist"

"What?" They both said in unison.

"My best friend, he can sing! I heard him doing it out in the school's parking lot and he was really good!"

"Robin, that's great but would he actually want to join?" Nancy said with a small smile.

"I mean, he might've freaked out a bit when he found out I heard him. And maybe he asked me not to tell anyone but I'm sure he'll say yes!"

"No"

"Pleeeeaaaaaseeee?" Robin begged and put her hands together in a pleading manner while pouting.

"Robin, I hate singing in public, last time I did everyone laughed at me"

"Wasn't that in like first grade?"

"Yeah but-"

"Please, Steve, we need you...I need you, you know, me, your best friend? Whom you've told everything? The first person you told you weren't so much in the path of a heteronormative spectrum?"

"Do not try to manipulate me into doing this, I already said no"

"But Steve, if we don't start making money, we won't be able to pay the rent of the place we practice at, so we won't have a place to play in and our music dreams will be burned along with our reputation."

"What reputation?"

"Steve I'm serious! This is really important for me and my bandmates. If you don't wanna do it for them, at least try for me."

"...Fuck...ok fine just one try, if I hate it, I'm outta there and we won't touch the subject ever again, got it?"

"THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!"

"Um...hi, I'm Steve, Steve Harrington" he scratched the back of his neck while waving at the two people in front of him.

"Hello Steve, I'm Nancy, I'm on the keyboard" Nancy was very formal and cold but also very warm and nice.

"Eddie Munson, bass and guitar" Eddie seemed wary of Steve and looked at him up and down while leaning on the couch

"Oh, you play guitar? Electric or acoustic?" He got excited and started smiling.

"Both...but for the band electric" Eddie raised an eyebrow and relaxed a bit

"I...I play electric too" he lowered his shoulders

"Really? Hmm" Eddie seemed to start thinking of all the possibilities this could bring

"So, Steve, Robin told us you sing? We would really like to hear you if that's okay?" Nancy interrupted, smiling.

"Oh, y-yeah"

"The mic is there and you plug it in-" Robin started really happy that Steve was doing this for her and also scared because what if they don't like how Steve sings? Steve would never forgive her.

"I know how microphones work Robin"

"Since when?" she asked sarcastically with a smirk.

"Whenever you're ready" Nancy smiled warmly as she situated herself between Eddie and Robin.

"R-right" He grabbed the mic and...

And he sang, and holy shit was Robin right, this guy was amazing! He was a bit nervous, and you could kinda hear it in his voice but with a bit of practice their band was gonna make it big. He sang "Killer Queen" by Queen and he hit the notes perfectly. They started practicing imediatley.

Hiiii, did you guys like it? Idk if I should turn this into a comic or just keep it a kinda fic. Sorry if it badly written I was just too excited to share this idea and started barfing everything into the keyboard.

Also go check out Joe Keery's band! It's called "Djo"

Should I continue it? Any recommendations?

[christina-stark-skarlet-stileto]

No Escape Day 3

Adonijah Obadia sat in his office at Hydra. He was planning a Shield raid on this

base. More importantly he was planning his own "capture/death," but he had to make it look real for Hydra. The truth of the matter was Adonijah was a Shield Agent.

He joined Shield before he met his wife. He thought she was cool and classy. Until she threatened him, and forced him to give their five year old son to Hydra. He did not know that she was Hydra until that day. So he "joined"them infiltrating their base to look over his son. He had been there for twelve years planning this. When Shield came he would deliberately have no escape. There would be no way Hydra would be able to rescue him. He also didn't want to be rescued. He was one of Shield's best agents. When Shield raided a few days later. He went to them and let the agents take him in.

He was taken to a cell to get footage to run on repeat, so if Hydra hacked the cameras they would never know that he wasn't really confined. Then he was released into the dorm part of Shield for the agents in protection.

Then one day he got a call. Shield had found his son. He was successful; he was a CEO of one of the biggest tech and research conglomerates in the world. He was also emancipated, but Tony Stark was his guardian. Adonijah was proud of him, and the fact that his son had stayed with his soulmate Christina. Adonijah had known Christina, and had helped her and Damian escape. Shield contacted Damian and set up a meeting for them explaining what actually happened.

The meeting went well, and he knew his son wasn't angry with him and still loved him. Now one year later he sat in his room thinking about the past. It's funny how you can escape physical situations, but you can't escape your own mind. The mental scars will never go away, the pain fades as the years go by, but the marks are inescapable. Adonijah thought he could escape the pain his mind created. He thought one day all of it would leave completely. So far that hasn't happened. His mind just kept trapping him out of nowhere with no way to escape.

Christina was still waiting for Damian to even out a bit. He was still unsettled from his whole encounter with Flash, and his ever growing ego. He was sitting next to her, and he was awake after that thirty minute nap he took. He could tell she was off. Her eyebrow was raised. He, being himself, gently said,

"Ari, you do know that what happened to us wasn't your fault right? You know that there was no chance of escape until we did. If anyone, that fault belongs to my mother and Hydra."

"I know, at least, I try to think that way, but I keep feeling that if I did something sooner— If I made a different choice— We would have escaped faster. My mind keeps telling me that it's my fault. I try not to believe it, but is there really no other way that we could have escaped?" Christina asked.

"No Ari, there was no possible way that we could have escaped before we did." Damian replied.

"Are you completely sure? Was there really no other way?" Christina asked again.

"Christina, look at me. If there was any other way, if we had any other choice, I know that you would have seen it. So stop blaming yourself, it was not your fault." Damian explained.

"I'll try." Christina replied.

"Do or do not, there is no try." Damian teased, trying to get a laugh out of her. It worked, and soon he got her back.

"Now, we need to get back to history." Christina said. They got up and left the safe room.

When they arrived in history class, the teacher raised an eyebrow, but she continued teaching. The brief reprieve from their thoughts helped them. They wouldn't ever be able to escape the scars, but they could embrace them as a part of who they are. “Scars come with living,” as the song says, “and they will always be there. But have faith that someday they will fade, the pain will leave, and you won't remember the hurt as much. There might not be an escape, but your scars are a part of who you are; they tell your story. Embrace them. A lot of people are insecure about their scars, but you don't have to be.”

[loremonster]

Hanging out enjoying my morning burn in a fort I made out of a plethora of blankets and old boxes, just letting my brain wander where it will, and remembered something from my church life ( baptized Lutheran by my parents when I was an infant, left the church when I moved out, have not joined a body of faith since and I'm currently in my 30's ) that had a huge impact on me that wasn't traumatic.

One of the only reasons I kept going to church through my teens was I liked singing with my mother. We both sing in a similar range so there was narry a car ride that passed without us singing something together on the radio, I'd been singing in my school choir for 6+ years, this was something I actually enjoyed that my church offered that let me keep singing on a regular basis after graduation.

Part of being in the church choir were these things called Choir Awards. Printed off certificates of the director's design that she hands out at the end of the year once the Christmas shows are all done and we stop rehursing till spring and the children's Easter Program. These certificates were usually ways for the choir director to sass misbehavior, such as two grown ass adults in the base section who just CANNOT stop chatting during rehearsal so they got Certificates like Choir Gossip and Did You Know? Because Jim Does.

My first year with the choir, I had just lost one of my best friends to illness. I was 18 and one of my peers had just... Suddenly gotten so sick that her heart gave out before she could recover. So when, at the end of rehearsal, the choir director asked for prayer requests? I always had one. For the friend I lost and hoping she rests well after her passing. For her parents, who lost their child just as she was becoming an adult. For my other friends, struggling with the loss, including the guy whom she'd been dating who revealed to me he wanted to marry her someday shortly before we learned she was sick. After that it became kinda expected that I'd want the choir to Pray For Someone despite the fact that I Didn't Even Believe ( not that I told them that ) and was just here for community and music.

So at the end of the year, I got a Choir Award that read: God So Loved The World, and So Does Loor ( obvi my birth name was on it but fuck it I ain't typing that here )

And it was just... Really touching to me that it seemed the trait the choir noticed about me is How Much I Care about peeps and I can't help but express it all the time, even through means that aren't necessarily mine.

I still have that thing, despite it bearing my deadname. Because I'm proud of how much I care. I'm happy people I kept community with noticed that. I hope it inspired a little more empathy all around.

It's why, despite leaving the faith, I still sing songs like This Little Light Of Mine at the top of my lungs. Not all of the faith's tenants were harmful, and I keep the precious treasures of my upbringing with me when they serve to make my world a better place.

[katelynnwrites]

pairing: Ona Batlle x f!Reader

warnings: does the fact that i absolutely hate the way this turned out count?

word count: 1982

summary: you’re very busy people watching others, too busy to notice that ona is watching you

a/n: based off the song, people watching by conan gray

People Watching

You sit quietly in the corner of the locker room, observing as once again, Millie and Ella start singing some pop song. It gets even louder once Tooney successfully convinces her best friend to join in.

A little smile grows on your face as Ona gets nudged by Alessia, the Spanish girl chuckling as she refuses the forward’s attempt to draw her into their chaos.

Ona shakes her head at Alessia and your heart skips a beat as the grin on her face widens.

She looks beautiful and you duck your head blushing slightly and cursing yourself for your gay panic.

For the rest of the time in the locker room, you focus on reorganising the contents of your bag and maybe just occasionally sneaking glances in Ona’s direction.

That wasn't funny but she laughed so hard, she almost cried

They're counting months they've been together, almost 49

He's making fun of how she acted 'round the holidays

She wears a ring but they tell people that they're not engaged

They met in class for metaphysical philosophy

He tells his friends, "I like her 'cause she's so much smarter than me"

They're having talks about their futures until 4:00 a.m.

And I'm happy for them

Once again you’re sitting quietly, this time in a cafe, listening to the couple at the table next to you. They’re telling their friends how they met and their love story is so sweet it makes your heart ache.

Would you ever have your own story like that?

Looking up from your coffee, you immediately notice the way the boy is looking at his girl like she had hung the stars in the sky.

Another question preoccupies you as you go back to your coffee.

Would anyone ever love you like that?

But I wanna feel all that love and emotion

Be that attached to the person I'm holding

Someday, I'll be falling without caution

But for now, I'm only people watching

People watching was probably the activity you did most. Most times you’d find yourself doing it unconsciously. You were shy and often anxious, especially so around others. This shyness resulted in you being near silent around your teammates, particularly the louder ones.

You liked Millie, you really did. She was really nice to you and had helped you settle down in Manchester when you had first signed for them. Sometimes though, her loudness scared you a tiny bit and you just wished she would give you some prior warning before she created a loud bang.

I'm only looking just to live through you vicariously

I've never really been in love, not seriously

I had a dream about a house behind a picket fence

Next one I choose to trust, I hope I use some common sense

Very rarely, you envied her. Millie and her girlfriend had such a strong relationship despite how far apart they lived and whenever she talked about Rachel, you could see the way her eyes lit up. She loved her girlfriend, anyone could see that.

Would you ever find a love like that?

You couldn’t help thinking that if you could be as confident and outgoing as Millie, you could tell Ona about your feelings for her.

The brunette was something or rather someone unexpected. You came to Manchester solely to improve on your football, you never thought that you would find someone like her who would give you another reason to stay at the club.

It was entirely unexpected, Manchester United signing the cutest full back to help you and Millie with the backline.

Ona was warm, like the Spanish sunshine she loved so much. She was sweet, often offering to stay back after trainings if you wanted some extra practice.

She too was quiet but only at first. She would sit beside you in the bus, on the bench during games and in the locker room. Softly, the Catalan would ask you for clarifications and the meanings of words she picked up from the conversations around the both of you.

Often, she would kiss your cheek in thanks for the answers and it always left you a blushing mess.

But I cut people out like tags on my clothing

I end up all alone but I still keep hoping

After she had a better understanding of English however, she talked more with your other teammates but still occasionally sat down beside you, enjoying the way your presence put her at ease.

Following an exhausting game that had ended in a tough loss, Ona silently sits beside you, leaning her head against your shoulder.

‘You okay?’ You whisper.

‘Mhm. Just need some time.’ She mumbles. A bad pass on her part had resulted in the goal that had sealed the loss and you knew that the full back was beating herself up about it.

You want to hold her hand but afraid that that would be too much, you settle for asking her if she wants a hug.

‘Really?’ The defeated expression on Ona’s face lifts and you open your arms to her.

‘Of course.’

She’s quick to let you wrap your arms around her and even quicker to reciprocate the embrace.

As Ona tucks her face into the side of your neck, you rub circles onto her back and make a promise to yourself that you would do your best not to push her away like you did to so many others before.

You didn’t trust easily and often found yourself pushing away people you deemed had become too close to you. With Ona, you were determined not to. It was safe for you to let her in, she wouldn’t hurt you. At least you really really hoped she wouldn’t.

I wanna feel all that love and emotion

Be that attached to the person I'm holding

Someday, I'll be fallin' without caution

But for now, I'm only people watching

You knew a lot of things about your teammates. A lot of things about the staff even. Things that not many would know because it wasn’t very obvious.

You knew that Ella and Alessia liked to go get their nails done at a place near their apartments, not because of their exceptional service but because they were friends with the staff.

You knew that Maria liked to walk her dog in the evening but on game days she preferred to do so in the morning because it soothed any anxieties or worries she had.

You knew that Hannah could play equally well as a right or left back but would rather play on the right because of a superstition she had. It was why you always let her be the right back whenever you were on the pitch with her.

You even knew that Janie, the team’s primary doctor liked a member of the groundskeeping team even though she never said anything because you had observed the way she would sneak glances at him while the team trained.

And Ona, you knew a lot about her. You knew that she always stepped onto the pitch with her right foot first. You knew that while she had chosen to pursue football as a career instead of ice skating, she still loved the latter sport because when she couldn’t sleep, she’d watch ice skating competitions under the blankets in the hotel beds.

You knew that though she had adapted very well to Manchester, she still struggled with the lack of physical affection. Spanish affection was very different from English affection and you tried your best to remedy that by giving her the occasional hug.

As much as you would have loved to hug her more often or maybe even kiss her just as you’d dreamed about, you made sure that none of your actions gave away the way you felt about her.

Cut people out like tags on my clothing

I end up all alone but I still keep hoping

I won't be scared to let someone know me

Life feels so monotone but I still keep hoping

If you weren’t so busy people watching others you’d see that Ona was always, always looking at you.

She was looking at you every chance she could. At recovery, at trainings, at team bondings, on the bus and even while she was talking to other teammates.

Half her mind was constantly on you.

She did always make sure to look away just as your gaze inevitably fell on her though.

The Spanish full back was almost certain that you liked her but she wanted you to be comfortable with her. She wanted you to be able to be at home with her, just as she was with you.

Sometimes though, she couldn’t resist giving you the tiniest hint that she liked you back.

Cut people out like tags on my clothing

I end up all alone but I still keep hoping

I won't be scared to let someone know me

Life feels so monotone but I still keep hoping

Hope. Hope is a four letter word and a feeling that you felt whenever you saw Ona. You kept on hoping and hoping that you would get your happy ending. That you would love someone and have them love you back. And that Ona would be the one for you.

For all of your people watching, you really could be quite blind.

The full back was making a TikTok with Mary and the smile on her face was perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

Your gaze can’t help but be drawn to her and you were trying your best not to blatantly stare at her.

Ona however, already knew that you were watching her.

Looking up at just the right time, she catches your eye and winks. Winks to let you know that she knew you were watching her and that she didn’t mind.

You flush immediately, gaze darting to the grass which you proceed to look at like it was the most interesting thing you had ever seen.

Ona giggles, quickly finishing the TikTok with the goalie so that she can plonk herself down on the grass, next to you.

‘Hola.’ She greets cheerfully.

‘Hi.’ You mumble, not looking up because your face was still red.

‘You know that you’re kinda cute right?’

That causes you to look up, cheeks even redder than before.

‘I am?’

‘Yeah.’ Ona nods, a smile gracing her face.

The Spanish player chuckles and leans in to kiss your cheek before getting up, leaving a flustered you behind.

I wanna feel all that love and emotion

Be that attached to the person I'm holding

Someday, I'll be falling without caution

But for now, I'm only people watching

You were falling. This was your someday. You were falling without caution for Ona.

For Ona who had earned your trust, for Ona who had made you feel at home with her. For Ona who was now dozing off in your arms. For Ona who you were now attached to.

You missed her when she was away for national camps, missed her when you were injured and couldn’t travel with the United team even though it was only for two weeks.

You missed her simply when she wasn’t beside you.

You felt all that love and emotion for her. She was the love you had been hoping for, the love you had dreamt about. You were done with people watching because you no longer envied others. You had found a person who you were safe with. You could let her in because she would never hurt you.

It had taken you a while to get there but you had finally made it.

‘I love you. You know that right?’ Ona softly murmurs.

‘Yeah. I love you, you know that right?’ You ask back, in the same fashion.

Your girlfriend hums sleepily, cuddling closer into you.

‘I know.’

Spanish Translation:

hola - hi/hello

[deliwrites]

ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕫𝕚𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 // Dream

// DATE // 26th of November 2022 // PAIRING // Dreamwastaken x fem!reader // WARNING // angst, heartbreak, fluff, alcohol, song-based, happy ending, just in case a trigger warning; Techno is in this // WORDS // 6,6k+ // SUMMARY // a year ago Dream broke up with you. He never told you why. It hurt you so much. You weren't sure how to handle it. So with the help of Wil, you write a song about it. You wrote it to get over him, but what if he wants to try again?

Author note: This was meant for a book, that is not fan fiction. But I wasn't sure how to make it into a "normal" book. So now it's for you guys to enjoy.

 // MASTERLIST // ANONLIST //

Wilbur started his stream like usual. I sat near, just out of sight of the camera. My leg bounced up and down. I was so nervous. Wil had been announcing a new song being released today, for the past month. What fans didn't know was who the song was with. It was going to stay that way as far as real names go.

"Okay! So chat!" Wil starts, glancing over at me for a second. "As you can probably tell, I am somewhere unfamiliar to you guys," he paused, gesturing all around him. Looking at chat, he read as many of the guesses from the thousands of viewers as he could. "You're all wrong," he says bluntly, a smirk playing on his lips. A laugh nearly slipped from my own. Wil turned his smirk in my direction when he noticed me struggling to keep it in. "I am actually in Florida!" he announces. Instantly I started to see chat fill with his name. The smile that was on my face, faltered just a bit. "Nope, not at Dreams. I am at another friend's place and we have an announcement. Would you like to do the honours, Y/u/n?"

"I- wha- me?" I stutter, not expecting him to throw me under the bus like this.

"Yeah, come on, tell chat what's happening today!"

"Uhm, okay..," I swallow my nervousness quickly. "So, as Wil has been saying, there is a new song," I start, looking at Wil for confirmation. He nods, telling me to continue. "I wrote this song with some encouragement from Wil. The reason I wrote this song is... Well. I was hung up on a breakup. Yeah, I know, I am dramatic," I chuckle, Wil doing the same. "Anyway! This song is for me to get over this and hopefully it will help others too!"

"Exactly, cause believe it or not, today is the day the breakup happened a year ago. And this little lady is still hooked up on this game."

"Hey!" I pout, smacking his arm softly. "He was a great guy! You know I'm trying not to, but I still love him."

"I know," Wil says. "But from today on you're moving forward, correct?" I nod a smile back on my lips. "You can't see but she's nodding," he tells chat, making me giggle. "Now," he claps. "Let's actually play the song!" grabbing his guitar he checks it before looking at me. "You ready to do this?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I tell him, adjusting in my seat a bit. Making sure the mic is in the right position. Wil starts playing, looking at me when it's my time to start.

I’ve been trying not to think about it, I can’t help it I know you don’t want to hear from me, but I am selfish It kills me inside, you can drink on Friday nights Not even pick up the phone It amazes me, you moved on so easily From someone that you once called home

I sang nervously, tho the stare Wil gave me boosted me with confidence. It felt so good to sing this song. I tried not to focus on the chat. Not wanting to feel discouraged or get distracted. 

I wish you had enough discipline For the both of us Just because I don’t know how to Turn off the way I feel I know you always fell out of love So damn easily But honestly, I don’t think you ever Had something real Until you met me, drinks in New york city Oh, you looked so pretty Think I fell in love before I even  knew your birthday Kissed you on our first date Somehow I knew someday This would hurt ‘cause I could  Never let you go Oh, I’ll spend my whole life Missing a part of me, part of me Oh, I’ll spend my whole life Hoping your heart is free, heart is free

I finished my part receiving an encouraging smile from Wil before he starts with his part.

I’ve been trying not to think of  This as something tragic ��Cause our two paths might Cross again Crazier things have happened And I realized lightning strikes just Once not twice And shooting stars are burning rocks So I spend months inside, Drowning in these dreams of mine Wondering if I’m worth your thoughts I wish you had enough discipline for The both of us Just because I don’t know how to Turn off the way I feel I know you always fell out of love so easily,  but honestly, I don’t think you ever  had something real

Wil finishes and looks at me and we continue together.

Until you met me, drinks in New York City Oh, you looked so pretty Think I fell in love before I even knew Your birthday Kissed you on our first date Somehow I knew someday This would hurt ‘cause I could Never let you go

Taking over I continue.

Oh, I’ll spend my whole life Missing a part of me, part of me Oh, I’ll spend my whole life Hoping you’re heart is free, heart is free Do you not dream of me? ‘Cause I have visions in my sleep I can’t ever find me peace now Do you wake up alone And feel an aching in your bones? Or are you happy without me now? The first time that you told me You thought that you loved me That bar in the city I thought you were drunk But I knew deep down that you meant it Wish that I had said it I was scared to let it happen But it happened and now I cannot forget it Oh I’ll spend my whole life Missing a part of me, part of me Oh, I’ll spend my whole life Hoping your heart is free, heart is free

We finished the song. Staying in silence just for a bit.

"That was great! I am so proud of you, Y/u/n!" Wil says holding up his hand for a high five. I high-fived him, giggling softly. The praise raised a blush on my cheeks.

"Thank you, I couldn't have done it without you."

"Nah, you could have," he grins grabbing both our water bottles and handing me mine. "Tell me chat! What did you guys think? Do you have any questions?" Wil asked once he finished drinking. Focusing on the chat as messages flood in.

Who is the song about?

Wil read out the question that caught his eye, turning to me. He waited for my answer.

"I can't tell you who it's about exactly. Can't really expose him like that," I answer honestly.

"Yeah, we probably shouldn't," Wil chuckled. "Do you think - if he listened - Do you think he would recognize your voice?"

"He could, I guess. I have sung for and with him before. Though he could have forgotten what I sound like. I mean, it has been a year."

"That is true," Wil mumbles again, pulling a thinking face.

Could you tell us about that bar in New York City?

"I guess I could. Though, it's not actually about a bar in New York City. The name of the bar is New York City," I chuckle. "Do you mind? It could take a while?" I ask Wil.

"Yeah, go ahead, I don't know the story behind the bar either. I have to say that I am quite curious myself."

"Alright. Well, I knew this person since high school. We weren't friends but we did speak occasionally. I did already like him in high school but I never thought I would be his type," I start the back story. "Besides, he had relationship after relationship. I don't mean in a playboy kind of way. He isn't the playboy type. I guess his relationships just never worked out. Anyways, that's where I knew him from," I pause for a moment, gathering my thoughts. "So, fast forward a few years. We had both finished high school and doing whatever after. I ended up not going to college. I chose to pursue my music. Hence the song," I chuckle at the obviousness of it. "So, after a long day at my job, writing songs all day. I needed a break. Doing so by going to my favourite bar, New York City. I was sitting at the bar just drinking my (f/(a)/d) when he noticed me and came over. He asked if I was me," I giggled at the way I was explaining it, shaking my head. "I, of course, recognized him immediately. I mean who forgets their high school crush. We got to talking, quickly exchanged phone numbers and got pretty drunk together. We clicked quite well and I loved spending time with him. We joked about this being our unexpected first date while we talked about doing this again sometime. I told him that if it was, he should be a gentleman and escort me home safely. He had wheezed but nodded nonetheless. Telling me he would make sure I got safe and sound," I couldn't help but smile at the memory. "He kept his word and at about midnight, he called a taxi and brought me home. I was quite thankful and with the alcohol in my system. I risked it all for a biscuit and kissed him. Just like the song says, I fell in love before I even knew his birthday," I giggle once again, only this time it sounded clogged. My voice quivered a bit when the tears that formed in my eyes from the memory, caught up with me. "Sorry, I'm getting emotional," I quickly wiped my tears, sniffing. I felt arms wrap around me, I knew it was Wil.

"Hey, it's okay," he spoke softly as he comforted me. One hand caressed my back while the other was entangled in my hair. My head in his chest.

"I'm ruining your shirt," I muttered, my voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

"That's alright, you need this hug," Wil chuckled gently. "You know, I gotta say. That's a really cute way to meet someone. And fall for someone. The guy is an idiot for letting you go."

"You act like you don't know him," I chuckle.

"I just wish I knew why he would end it."

"You and me both."

After I had calmed down we put our attention back on the stream. Answered a few more questions. Wil linked and announced all my socials and provided the link to our song Crazier Things on Spotify before he ended the stream.

"Alright, it is-" Wil looks at the clock on the monitor. "Almost 8 pm, I should go to you know where."

"I know. Sorry that the stream took so long because of my long-ass answers. Not to mention my emotional breakdown," I chuckled. "You could have gone to his place already."

"Hey don't apologize for that. If I wanted to end earlier I would have," Wil shut down the PC. We made our way out of my spare bedroom. Grabbing his coat I handed it to him.

"You're staying the night at his right?" I ask to be sure I remembered it right.

"Yeah, I'll be back around noon tomorrow most likely. Then I also want you to show me that bar of yours!" chuckling at his excitement for it, I nod my head.

"Alright, I will! Now go on, have fun but be careful, okay!" I told him as I quite literally pushed him out the front door. "If you do end up needing me, just call me."

"Yes, yes, bye now!" With that, I close the front door. Being alone for the night. 'Happy birthday, Clay.'

"Wil!" Phil called out when he walked into the Dream teams living room. "I saw the stream! That song is so beautiful, mate!"

"Thank you," Will smiled. "The stream was also why I was a little later."

"Yeah, we watched it here," Techno said from his spot on another part of the L-shaped couch pointing at the tv that now just displayed the twitch logo. 

"Yeah, Clay ran off like right after too. Talking about needing some air."

"Seems pretty obvious why," Will said getting confused looks from the other two in the room. "You do realize that song is about him right."

"All the hints you had dropped. The both of you talked about it so much. You showed us just a section of the song," Techno mumbled thinking to himself as he tried to make logic out of it. Nick, who had let Will in, walked back into the living room. Handing out new beers for everyone. Including the two currently not in the room.

"Wait! That was Y/n?" Phil asked shocked.

"Well, yeah, how did you not know," he chuckles. "Who have I been helping the past 8 months? Who do we know that loves to write songs and sing? And has sung for us before, might I add."

"All the hints you had dropped. The both of you talked about it so much. You showed us just a section of the song," Techno mumbled thinking to himself as he tried to make logic out of it. Nick, who had let Will in, walked back into the living room. Handing out new beers for everyone. Including new ones for the two currently not in the room.

"I'm guessing George went to talk to Clay?" He asked no one in particular.

"Yeah," Techno answered him. "I wonder why he ran off tho. Sure, the song is about him, but it's not like the song was portraying him in a bad light."

"I don't know, maybe he feels guilty?" Nick said, confused about the situation himself.

"Wait, does that mean not even you know why he broke up with Y/n?" Phil asked the important question. A question Wil very much wanted the answer to.

"No," He stated bluntly. "We just assumed something suddenly happened between the two. It was like it happened overnight," Nick explains, taking a sip from his beer. "We were here having fun on his birthday and the next day she was gone. We didn't see or hear from her. Clay didn't talk about it either. so we waited till he was ready to tell us about what happened," he sighed. "All he ended up telling us was that she wouldn't be coming here anymore. No explanation whatsoever. And that was 2 months after."

"Woah, of all people, I thought he would have told you and George. I mean, you guys live together! Y/n basically lived here with you," Techno said, very confused why Clay wouldn't tell anyone the reason. It was silent for a little while after that.

The talking only started back up when George and Clay came back from where ever the two had been. Clay complimented Wil on the song with a hint of sadness lingering in his voice. Though, at the moment Wil decided not to comment on it. Instead, deciding to let the party become less tense. Suggesting playing a game.

They ended up playing an Uno drinking game. Everyone quickly became tipsy and the living room filled with laughter. Music softly playing in the background. Not too loud not too soft.

After a while, they stopped. Putting on a comedy show by Daniel Sloss. The humour was dark but oh-so-good. Wil couldn't focus on it though. He had a question rolling around in his head. It had been doing so for a while now. He was not leaving this place without answers, that's for sure.

"Alright," Wil spoke, catching the attention of everyone in the room. "I am sorry. I am not trying to ruin the mood. But I have to know," he said looking straight at Caly who was sitting on the outside corner of the couch. Tension instantly filled the air as most caught on to what was going to happen.

"Know what?" Clay asks, faking oblivion. He could already guess what the question would be. The question is, was he ready to talk about it.

"What was the reason?" Wil asked. "Like, don't get me wrong, but it was so sudden for everyone," he added, letting it sink for a second. "Why did you break up with Y/n?" he asks again when he didn't get a response. Clay's attention had slowly shifted to the carpet. Finding it more interesting than were the conversation was going.

"I would rather not talk about it," he confessed, his voice a little above whisper. He hadn't told anyone the reason. He didn't think he was ready to tell 5 of his friends right this second.

"You've got to talk about it at some point. It's been a year," George spoke from the recliner next to him.

George and Nick had definitely noticed a difference in Clay before and after the breakup. He was still clay, just less happy.

"Your reason won't change the way we look at you," Nick told him in reassurance. "It is honestly just so confusing. George and I didn't want to push you into talking about it. But we're your best friends. Please remember that."

"I know," Clay sighed. "Can we just say I was an idiot and not talk about it," he ends up saying. Looking around the room, but not making eye contact with anyone. His eyes then go straight to his lap. Focused on playing with the hem of his green hoodie.

"Why would you be an idiot?" Phil asks concerned. The fact that he thinks he's an idiot makes the situation all the more confusing.

"I-" He let out a sigh, throwing his head back. Trying to convince himself it was okay. He is with a close group of friends. He can trust them. "I actually broke up with her after I let a joke Wil made get to me."

"Excuse me. What?" Nick broke the silence that followed the confession.

"I don't remember the joke exactly. But it was something along the lines of Y/n cheating on me."

"You mean to tell me I've spent months taking care of Y/n from the UK. All because of a fucking joke I made!" It wasn't even a question. It was a statement. Wil was so aggravated at this discovery. The room was silent once again.

"I'm sorry," came from Clay, his hands covering his face as tears started to block his vision. His voice was croaky. "I got scared of getting hurt by the one person I actually saw myself having a future with," the anger that ran through Wil's veins quickly got replaced with confusion and concern.

"What?" he asked quietly.

"The song explains a lot," wiping at his eyes. Clay takes a deep breath, calming himself down. "The first time that you told me, you thought that you loved me. That bar in the city. I thought you were drunk but I knew deep down that you meant it. Wish that I had said it. I was scared to let it happen. But it happened and now I cannot forget it," he quotes the song with ease. "On our 1-year anniversary date, I told her that I loved her. As the song says, she didn't say it back. Which is fine, she should have to feel forced to say it back," he explains. "But months went by and I said it, every once and a while. She never said it back," looking up at Wil. "So, on my birthday, when you made that joke. All that went through my head was that maybe you were right. What if she was already cheating on me. She never told me she loved me because she had someone else besides me," he took a deep breath before continuing. "I ended it before I could find it whether it was true or not. When I did, that's when she told me she loved me."

"No," George mumbled. Every time Y/n spoke about Clay she would always shove an 'I love him' in the conversation. It always made Nick and him tease her for it. They knew how very much in love the two were with each other.

"We genuinely thought she had already told you," Nick said shaking his head slightly in disbelief. "She told us all the time that she loved you."

"Really?" Clay couldn't believe his ears. "I guess I really am an idiot huh?" shaking his head, he threw his head back. Slumping against the couch. "I lost the love of my life because I am an idiot."

"Who says you lost her," Techno spoke up. Everyone turned to look at him. Curious about where he was going with this. "Wil, Phil and I are still in contact with her. I am sure she would love to talk to you. We all know her well enough to know she would hear you out."

"I literally dumped her without telling her why. Why would she want to talk to me."

"Because she still loves you," Phil says matter-of-factly. "The song even talks about your paths crossing again, as crazier things have happened," hope started to fill him just slightly at the possibility.

The next morning I woke up to my violently vibrating phone under my pillow. Shuffling around I try to find it. Answering without looking.

"Hello..?" I croak tiredly.

"Morning, Y/n," Wil's voice comes from the other end of the phone.

"How are you up this early? Shouldn't you be hungover or something?" I mumble slowly pushing myself up in bed. Now leaning against the headboard. I rub my eyes to wake myself up more.

"Y/n, it's almost 2 pm, what do you mean early?" He chuckles. I could just tell he was shaking his head.

"Where are you? I thought you were supposed to come here?" I ask, taking the phone away from my head, and putting it on speaker. Getting up off the bed I walk over to my closet.

"I'm on my way to New York City," he says sounding excited. "One of the guys offered to take me there. So, I will see you there, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, okay," I answered while struggling to put on a tight pair of black high-waisted jeans. "I'll try not to make you wait too long. You can always order something to drink while you wait."

"Yeah, we'll do that before they leave."

"Alright! I'll see you in a bit then!" With a quick bye Wil hangs up the phone and I focus on getting ready. Though in the back of my mind I found it very suspicious how Wil spoke about the person who brought him to the bar.

Parking the car in the last free parking spot behind the bar. I try to ignore the car next to me. 'It's definitely not his car,' I think to myself. Shaking my head I grab my handbag and head to the front door. Looking back just once like I was expecting the car to suddenly change colour or something. I open the door, the small bell ringing as I walk in.

"Y/n!" Wil said with excitement as he came over immediately. Too close for a normal conversation and too stiff like he was trying to block my view from something.

"Hey, Wil," you don't look like you've been drinking last night at all," I chuckle ignoring the way he's acting at the moment. I could always ask him about it later.

"Well, we were up pretty early," he says with that cute grin of his. "Go sit at the bar I'll be right back," he says while grabbing my shoulders. Turning me around to face the bar. Looking over my shoulder, I give him a confused look.

"You're acting weird, Wil," I tell him, tho I do follow his request and make my way to sit at my 'usual' stool. Before I can turn to find out where Wil is going, my attention shifts to the bartender. Someone, I am all too familiar with.

"Well, hello there, Y/n," Lenny said with a grin. "I haven't seen you in a long time! What can I get you? Your usual?"

"Woah! Lenny, you still work here? And yes, please," the smile on my face matches his. "I am surprised you still know who I am," I chuckle. Like he said, I hadn't been here in a while. The last time I visited was at a moment of weakness 3 months ago.

"How could I not," he says setting down my (f/a/d). "You and Clay came here basically every Friday! Where is that boy of yours anyways?" Just like the last time he asked where Clay was. That time I was able to think of a fake reason why he couldn't be there.

"I- we- well-" now, I was just a stuttering mess. Unsure of how to tell him that we had broken up ages ago. But my stuttering gets cut off by another voice and the stool next to me moving.

"I am right here," Clay's voice surprises me. Looking up at him, there is a gentle smile on his face. He hasn't looked my way yet, though.

"Ah! Still together I see!" Lenny laughs, giving Clay his usual drink. Not even having to ask what it was. Neither of us corrects Lenny on his assumption. Why Clay wouldn't correct him has me lost, in every sense of the word.

"Thank you, Lenny!" He says, turning to look at me his smile softens but it's definitely still there. "Can you give us a moment?" He asks Lenny after turning back to him.

"Of course, of course!" He answers quickly and walks over to the other side of the bar. Picking up a conversation with another regular. I was utterly perplexed when I looked away from Lenny and back to Clay. We sat in silence, neither of us probably having any idea what to say. The only thing I was sure of was that Wil was behind this setup. But why? It didn't make sense to me. Clay hates me, he thought I cheated!

After taking a sip of his drink, Clay lets out a sigh. Turning his gaze to look at me. Or eyes briefly meet, but I look away, unable to look at him. I didn't want to get lost in his eyes like I used to. Besides I could already feel my emotion start to bubble up.

"Y/n, I know that I am probably way too late to tell you this," he starts off, the smile completely gone. Now replaced with a serious yet sincere look. "But I am so sorry," my eyes snap to meet his. I had no idea what to say or do. 'Should I even say anything or should I let him continue?' I decide on the latter and gave him a nod in acknowledgement. "I never told you why, nor anyone else for that matter and I felt, still do actually, feel like the biggest idiot in existence," he played with his glass a little. Something I knew he did if he was thinking about what and how to say it next. His elbow leaned on the bar, his head resting against his hand. He wasn't looking at me anymore but I knew it was because he was scared of my reaction. "Yesterday, a year ago, Wil made a joke," he says slowly. "I knew it couldn't be true, but I let it get to me. I didn't want to get hurt since I loved you more than I ever thought I could. So that night I broke up with you," he looked back at me. His eyes let me know just how sincere he was saying that. He cups the left side of my face hesitantly. With his thumb, he wipes away a tear I didn't know had fallen from my eye.

"So..," my voice sounded a little clogged from being my emotional self. I had hoped for this moment for so long. Just to know what the reason was. "Uhm, I am not sure what to say," I mumbled looking away from his eyes, trying to stop myself from leaning into his hand. Along with trying not to cry more. The comfort of his touch was still all too familiar. "I guess, thank you for telling me," I sniffed. "I want you to know that I never cheated on you and I never would."

"I know," he softly lifts my head up, making me look at him. "And I know it's far-fetched," he sighs somewhat lovingly. "Would you consider starting over?"

"But you just said 'loved'. W-why would you- I- wha?" I couldn't put into words how I was feeling at the moment. Sure, my heart started to flutter at the thought of getting back together. But I was making progress, was I not? I was supposed to move on from him now. Not let my love for him take over my life anymore. "D-don't get me wrong! I mean, I didn't write a song about you if I was actually, you know, over you. But I am very confused?" Ending the sentence questioningly to further prove my point of confusion. Loads of hand gestures. None of which add to the conversation as I scramble with my thoughts and words. Clay chuckles softly, moving both his hands to mine. Holding them delicately.

"I know, I'm sorry," he says gently. "The thing is. The reason that I am hoping you'll give me another chance is that I regret breaking up with you. I have since the moment I did it. You told me you loved me then and I could tell you were sincere. I could tell you meant it," his voice is filled with so much emotion. My eyes water, thinking back on that day. "I blamed myself for not being patient enough and letting a joke get to me," he looks down at our hands. His hand playing with a simple ring that sits on my left ring finger. It was actually a ring he had given to me. From the moment he gave it to me I had never taken it off. I have been wearing it for a solid 2 years now. "I felt so guilty after I sent you home. I knew you weren't lying when you told me you loved me. I shut down, and locked myself up in my room, for 2 months. Worried the hell out of Nick and George," he chuckles softly to lighten the mood a little. Looking back into my eyes. I notices even he had tears pooling on his water line. "And I never even told them why I did what I did. Up until last night," my eyes widen at the confession. 'No one knew? Did he really feel that guilty and embarrassed that he felt he couldn't even tell his two best friends?'.

"Let me guess, Wil asked why?" I asked knowingly, rolling my eyes. I knew he wanted to know why so badly. He needed to know if Clay deserved all my tears.

"Yep, and I didn't wanna answers at first," Clay confesses. "But they were patient with me and actually very understanding."

"I mean, they might be idiots but they are still your friends," I chuckled tearfully.

"That, they are, sometimes I don't think I deserve them," he sighs softly, though it was a sigh of contentment, not of annoyance. "They are the ones who helped me figure out how I could talk to you and hopefully make amends," he said with a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Wil told me you were gonna show him our bar, and that set it in motion."

"I guess my mind wasn't playing tricks on me when I saw your car in the parking lot," I couldn't help but giggle. Wiping gently at my eyes, I rub away any tear tracks. Grabbing my drink, I take hold of one of his hands again, taking a sip. "And you were hiding in here while Wil told me to go sit at the bar. You know, it was very obvious he was hiding something," Clay chuckled, nodding as he agreed with me. It helped him lighten up.

"But it worked and I am very happy you didn't decide to just run off when you saw me."

"I could never," I said with a teasing smile on my lips. "Even though the song was to help me move on from you. Our paths have crossed again," I could tell from him slightly shifting in his seat that he had gotten nervous again. "I would like to start over," I down the rest of my drink and get up. Not giving him time to say anything. I walk out the door of the bar. I grin to myself while my back is turned. I wait for the door to close behind me. Turning back around I walk straight back in. I look around like I'm looking for a place to sit. Moving my gaze to Clay, I noticed a confused look on his face. "Hi, is this seat taken?" a little flabbergasted, Clay shakes his head and chuckles.

"No, go ahead," he then says, gesturing to the stool. Playing along with my little act. "Can I offer you a drink? I'm Clay, by the way," he continues, moving his hand towards me. I shake his hand before sitting down comfortably next to him.

"That would be lovely," I grin. "I'm Y/n."

"What a lovely name," he says, reluctantly letting go of my hand. "What would you like?" He turns away a little to look at Lenny grabbing his attention and asking him to come over.

"Another round of usuals?" He asks as soon as he reaches us.

"Yes, please," I tell him sliming brightly. "So, who did you invite over yesterday?" I drop the act as we wait for our drinks. I knew Wil, went of course but I didn't know who else had been invited.

"Well, I invited a fair few. Sadly not everyone could make it, but as compensation, we played some games during the day. So it was just Nick, George, Techno, Phil, Wil and me during the evening," Lenny put our drinks in front of us, sending a smile. Then going back to the other side on his own. He was always pretty good at reading people. So he probably guessed we just had a pretty serious conversation. Wanting to give us the privacy we needed. "We actually watched Wil's stream while we were waiting on Wil."

"Wait, you did?" I asked calmly even though I was pretty shocked. Sure, they were friends and all but it was Clay's birthday. 'Why would he decide to watch the stream?'

"Yeah, we knew he was dropping a song but didn't know who with. I instantly realized it was you when you spoke. All flustered by the sudden attention thrown on you," he says with a sweet grin. A blush spread across my cheeks. His right hand reached out, gently taking hold of my left one. His thumb softly caressed the top of my hand. "I didn't know what to expect when it came to the actual song. But I knew it would be beautiful," the blush darkened at the compliments. "What I didn't expect was that it was going to be a song about us and this very bar. I thought you had long since moved on from me. Forgotten about me even," he says softly, looking down at our hand. Squeezing carefully, almost like he thought I would disappear. "But there you were, off-screen, singing about our bar and the effect our breakup had on you," his voice got a little croaky and I could tell it bothered him that I had been dealing with this for an entire year. I squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him that it was alright. I was obviously not the only one who dealt with it for this long.

"It's okay," I tell him softly. "It was a shitty year and I wouldn't have gotten to this point if it wasn't for Wil. But it's okay, Clay. I don't want you to blame yourself, which I know you're doing," I said with a pointed look, getting a slight grin as he knew I was right. "It's my fault for staying in that state of mind for so long. I have gotta say though, I don't regret it cause you want to give us a second chance. And that makes me really happy," I smiled a genuine smile because this is, in reality, what I had been hoping for. I love this man too much to just walk away from him.

"I guess, but I hurt you," he replies in almost a whisper. "And all because I'm an idiot."

"You might be an idiot, but you're my idiot, okay," I giggle softly, leaning over to give him a side hug and pecking his cheek. Leaving my head on his shoulder as he chuckled at my response.

"That I am."

That evening, just like on our unofficial first date, he made sure I got home safely. But! Instead of me kissing him, he gently kissed me. Looking at me with the softest of smiles when we pulled apart. A dark blush spread on my cheeks. We just stared for a bit, not really knowing how much time passed.

He told me he would come to pick me up in the morning. To pick up our cars, both of us were too tipsy to drive home. I smiled and nodded. Saying shy goodnight, I entered my apartment as he went back to the uber.

"Look who is finally home, just in time for dinner," Wil spoke from the kitchen. He couldn't see me but who else would enter my apartment. Wait!

"Wha- Wil? How did you get in?" I ask confused as I walk into the kitchen. There I find Wil making a very easy dinner of simple spaghetti with green pesto and cheese.

"You gave me a key," he says not sounding convincing in the slightest.

"Did you break into my apartment!?" My eyes wide in shock. 'How could he possibly have broken in!? I am on the forth floor! And my door definitely did not look broken into.'

"No, no, no!" he puts up his hands in surrender, letting out a sigh. "Clay still had a key. So he gave it to me to return to you after," I stood there flabbergasted. I had completely forgotten about the key I had given Clay. He actually kept it? "Love how you actually give him it with a keychain that has his name on it," he chuckled, taking the key from his pocket, sliding it over across the counter, to me.

"I-" I wasn't sure how to react. I just picked up the key looking at the battered keychain. I found it in a store once. It had a smiley, similar to his iconic one, on the the from and the back was black. So I had gotten it engraved with his name and our anniversary date.

I still remember the day I gave it to him. I was over at his place but had to go home that night because of my part-time job. I was very tired and asked if he would bring me home and maybe stay over. He had agreed after my pleading, asking for my eyes. He very well knew I was gonna fall asleep during the - short - drive. So he needed to be able to open the door.

I had grinned sheepishly and handed him his own key. He had been very confused at first. My own set of keys was filled - basically - to the brim with keys and keychains. 'It's your key. Now you can come over whenever you feel like it,' I told him. The smile on his face made my day just that much better. He pecked my lips before we got up and headed to the car. That night he had to carry me inside, 'cause just like he predicted. I had fallen almost straight asleep as soon as I sat down in the car.

"-ello? Earth to Y/n? Someone in there?" a soft pat on the head brought me back from memory lane and in front of me stood a smiling Wil. "Where did you drift off to?"

"Sorry," giggling I shake my head and put the key in a bowl that was meant for keys. "Just thought about the day I gave that key to him."

"While we're on the topic of him, how did it go? Did my plan work? I mean, I guess it did cause you were there for like 4 hours," Wil started to ramble as he filled two plates with the now-finished dish.

"It did work," I grin, a blush returning to my cheeks. "Funny how things work tho, right? The song was supposed to help me get over him and instead," I let out a content sigh. "We are going to start over and try again," I couldn't help but smile brightly as I sat down on a barstool at the island. Wil coming over to my side and sitting down too.

"I am surprised of me saying this, but I am very happy for you," he says. "I never hated Clay, but just never knowing why really made me not want you to get back together with him. Along with, of course, you being miserable for an entire year for that idiot," he chuckles. "He really is an idiot but he loves you very much," bumping his shoulder against mine slightly, a smirk on his lips.

// MASTERLIST // ANONLIST //

[hwanchaesong]

Hi, hope you're doing well!! I wanted to request a yeosang imagine based on the song dancing with your ghost. Probably very very sad like the reader dies in some accident while driving to their date or something, just a sad fic from yeosangs pov. Thank you so much 💓

a/n: this request has got me in the feels 🤧 tysm for requesting and happy reading~ 💚

👤: ATEEZ Kang Yeosang

📼: Dancing With Your Ghost - Sasha Sloan

genre & warnings: angst, mentions of death, implication of suicide, trauma, depression, mental illness, and overall just dark and sad

word count: 1.0k

for anyone who wants to, don't be shy and send me asks based on Prompts Request Song Version. Thank you so much!

One step, two steps, and a twirl.

"I've prepared something for our anniversary." Yeosang mumbled from behind you, his hands wrapping themselves on your waist.

"Really?" a teasing smile formed on your lips while you fix the collar of your shirt, your head turning to face him so that you could put a kiss on his cheek.

The dim light has set the mood in the living room, the record player's noise echoes throughout the area as your and Yeosang's favorite song fills the background.

"Text me when you're out okay? I'll come and get y-"

Yeosang wasn't able to finish his sentence when you put a finger on his lips.

"Nope, stay here and rest, it's your day off."

You laughed when he pouted, finding him adorable.

Your hands reached over to cup his cheeks, leaning in to give him a sweet kiss.

"I promise I'll come home as soon as I can."

He still remembers the way your lips felt on his. The way your skin warms his icy one.

How could he forget when he lives in it?

The neverending spiral of love and admiration, and he's so sure that he'll end up marrying you someday.

Yeosang skips around, soles of his feet bouncing lightly on the hard floors, it doesn't matter to him, he can't feel anything, not when his insides are frozen solid and nothing can thaw it but you.

"Hey baby? Are we still on for tonight?" you asked him through the phone.

Giddiness taking over Yeosang's body at the thought of you coming home to him once more.

It happens everyday, but it doesn't make it any less important. He cherishes every moment of you in his life, even the smallest things because it is the evidence that you're alive and well, keeping the fire in his soul burning brightly.

"Of course we are! I can't wait to see you baby."

Even though you can't see it, he still lets out a smile, a sign that he thinks of you in every breath he takes.

"Me too, I l-"

Your loud shriek and screeching tires resonated through his phone's speaker, an ominous feeling creeping up on his guts, especially when a loud crash continuously rings in his ears.

"Y/N, baby, what happened?" he screams yet no one on the other line has heard the anxiouness behind it.

The phone call ended just like that, and so is his everything.

The song is already near its denouement, melodies getting slower and lyrics lesser than before.

Eyes closed and a small smile on the dancer's lips, hands positioned in front of him like he's swaying someone to the beat.

Yeosang showed up at the scene of the accident, and the only thing that he saw is a figure getting covered by a white cloth in a stretcher. He couldn't see the face, though he can clearly recognize that piece of red fabric anywhere.

That velvet silk that he bought for you on your birthday.

No. This can't be happening.

His knees are wobbly and hands clammy, yet he still did his best to walk closer, every step heavy, nerves shaking, not fully comprehending what is happening.

"Sir?" a policeman interjected his movements, "Are you perhaps related to Ms. L/N Y/N?"

"Uh," he looked down, not being able to answer swiftly, "yes, she's my girlfriend."

The man in front of him sighed, sorrow adorning his face as he bowed at Yeosang.

"I'm deeply sorry sir."

The song tones down, a chuckle escaping from Yeosang's lips as he lied down on the sofa, hands reaching for a frame on the table.

He remembers the trembles he felt when that policeman apologized. All questions swirling in his head.

Why is he acting like something bad happened?

What does he even mean?

He denied reality, even when the answers were dawned on him in the form of your pale, lifeless body on the stretcher.

He won't fucking accept it.

He was supposed to propose to you that day.

He was supposed to marry you next year, then you'll build a family, then you'll live happily ever after as an old couple, but that was scratched off in his bucketlist.

Yeosang kneeled down on the dirt, lips quivering and heart palpitating as he caressed your cold face.

"Darling? I'm here, please wake up, I'm here now."

No response.

"Baby, come on. Don't pull a sick prank on me like this."

Still no reply and he couldn't help but shake your stiff body, begging for you to open your eyes. He was causing a scene that the people in there had to hold him back.

Tears pouring out his eyes, cursing at the sky for stealing you away from him. Hating on every god out there, condemning them all to hell.

"What bullshit is this?! All I did was love and all of you, insolent shits had to take all of that?! Fucking thieves! Fuck you all, I hope you all live in darkness!"

He wished that, though it seems that he was living in it instead.

It was difficult to exist when all he sees is you. In the kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, your shadow is everywhere and who was he to ignore you?

People say that he's crazy for talking to the air, and he say fuck them because they know nothing.

They don't know what it feels to expect someone in your arms at the end of the day, only for you to have their remains for forever, not even having the moment to say a final goodbye.

They say that he'll love again, find someone new, but how can he do that when he finds it hard to trust in love again?

How can he do that when every year, every day, every minute, every second, all he thinks of is your relationship anniversary turned into your death anniversary.

How can he do that when his heart and soul still belongs to you?

Now he pretends that he's moved on, sleepless nights hypnotizing himself to get ready for tomorrow's all day and afternoon acting. Telling himself that he's alright even if his world is shattering wildly day by day.

"It's okay," he mumbled, fingers grazing your oh so beautiful smiling photo instilled inside a mirror and paper, "I'll be with you soon, my love."

Music on repeat and hours of dancing with a nebulous entity, Yeosang decided to rest together with the buried ring inside his pockets.

"Wait for me."

[swanimagines]

FOOLISH MEMORIES | KAZ BREKKER

I've been doing bad things that you don't know about / Stealing your stuff now and then / Nothing you'd miss, but it means the world to me - based on the song Jenny by Studio Killers, requested by @crybabywhatever

Summary: You came back to Ketterdam and met your childhood crush by accident, but he's not the same anymore. Now it's time to talk about what has changed.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader

Characters: Y/N (no pronouns), Kaz Brekker, Jordie Rietveld (mentioned)

Fandom: Shadow and Bone

A/N: Ahahaha I hyped you up with requesting back in April and then you had to wait for an eternity..... sorry. But thank you for understanding my reasons for why this is so late + I hope a oneshot makes the delay up! I hope you like it 💓

Word count: 1.4k

You would have never believed you'd someday return to Ketterdam.

But oddly, you had missed the city, missed the memories. Even its rainy weather was something you had missed. In Ravka, it didn't rain that often and when it did, the rain didn't bring up the stench of sewers. Of course you hadn't missed that, but it still brought you even more memories.

You just didn't believe that one of those memories would come to you in form of a person.

After seeing him earlier that day, you had recognized him immediately - Kaz, the boy who you had ran across these same streets fifteen years ago. He had changed a lot, but something in him made you recognize him. And now you had moved to talk about it to Kaz's office, not wanting anyone listening in - potentially recognizing the name Rietveld and connect the pieces.

But he had changed. You had learned that he was called Kaz Brekker now. Dirtyhands. Being feared across Ketterdam, someone parents would scare their children with to prevent then from wandering too far. Everything Kaz Rietveld hadn't been.

"I've done bad things you don't even know about," Kaz mumbled, staring at the document in front of him. "I'm not that little boy who told you that he'd marry you one day anymore." He looked up and met your eyes for a moment before looking away again. "You're better off without me."

You shook your head, sighing. "I don't believe that. You can't change that much, your heart doesn't change even if you tried to change it."

Kaz turned his gaze back to his desk. "I wish I could say the same thing." He picked up the pen and dipped it into the inkwell, making some notes on his paper. "But I can't."

Silence ensued, you didn't really know what to say to him. He leaned back in his chair after finishing with writing those few short sentences, turning his head to stare out the window. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the city.

"How many years it has been?" Kaz suddenly asked, turning his gaze back to the table, and you thought for a moment.

"About fifteen years, I think." you said. "Why do you ask?"

Kaz stared at the paper in front of him. "Because when we last met, we were innocent, just children. And now..."

"I'm grown up, and so are you," you interrupted. "I'm twenty-five, Kaz. It's been fifteen years since then."

He nodded slowly. "And you've done well with yourself."

You took in a sigh. "Yeah."

Meeting him again after all these years wasn't going as you had thought it would go. Kaz told the truth when he said that he wasn't that boy anymore, who you had missed during all these years living in Ravka. He had changed a lot, he wasn't innocent anymore, nor he was scared. He was the man people were scared of now.

It felt strange to be sitting here, talking to him, knowing that he was that boy you had played with as a child, now turned into someone children like you had been would be scared of, but still feeling safe.

"I want to ask you something," you began.

"Go on," Kaz replied, leaning forward in his chair.

You swallowed. "What happened to you?"

Kaz's jaw immediately clenched, and you knew you had jabbed the wrong place. "Nothing that concerns you," he said curtly.

You sighed and stared out the window, watching the sun dip below the horizon. "I'm sorry. I was just curious," you said quietly. "About how you ended up like this."

"It doesn't concern you," Kaz repeated.

"Okay," you nodded, laying your gaze to your feet, falling silent again.

Kaz started to write to his papers again, and you just sat there in silence, looking at your former best friend working. Would you ever be friends again? Was he even someone you could be friends with?

You frowned at the thought. You wouldn't have believed you'd ever have to ask yourself that question - you had thought that if you ever met Kaz again, he'd smile widely and wrap his arms tightly around you, you'd laugh and tell each other what you had been up to all these years, maybe go to get something small to eat and take Jordie along.

Never had it crossed your mind that he'd be like this if you would meet again - secluded, cold, calculating, and on top of all, extremely feared around Ketterdam and nobody wanted to mess with him. Killing people was his normal task. You didn't recognize the person you once knew in him, but at the same time, you did, in some deranged way.

It was confusing, to say at least. But maybe with time, your relationship would warm up again, maybe you could be friends again? It was wishful thinking, maybe even foolish, but you couldn't help it. You missed him, even if he wasn't that boy you missed anymore.

"I'm intending to stay in Ketterdam, at least for a while," you muttered and Kaz nodded. "If you have any jobs for me... like run errands or cook or serving drinks, I might be up to do them."

Kaz frowned, but didn't look up from his papers. "Didn't take you to be fond of criminal lifestyle."

"This is Ketterdam, Kaz, I'm not a fool. I know that in order to be as safe as possible here, you have to work for something or someone who's feared," you stated, feeling odd to speak with Kaz like it was strictly business. Like you didn't know each other.

And Kaz didn't like your tone either, you had switched it from earlier. From warm and confused to strictly professional. But he did need someone to take care of the bar at the Crow Club - their current barista was about to have a baby in a couple of months and he didn't have anyone to replace her yet.

So he nodded, offering you a handshake. "The bar at the club will need a new host in about a month. Will you take that job?"

You nodded, shaking Kaz's hand, but you noticed that he pulled his hand away hurriedly, with a flinch, like something had stung him. You frowned, but Kaz seemed to jump over the subject.

"You will at the start of next month, then. Our current barista will surely guide you before you'll replace her. I'll arrange a room for you at the Slat," he said, waving his hand and sending you off.

You slowly rose up from your chair, making your way to the door. And while you didn't look, Kaz lifted his gaze to look at you exit his office, a long lost warm feeling passing by his heart - maybe some day, you'd find your friendship again. Maybe it wasn't too late yet... maybe you'd be the one who would pull him out from the waters for good.

He knew it was foolish thinking, but that little, innocent boy, he had had a huge crush on you and really believed that he's going to marry you one day, that nothing could come in between you. It had been so innocent and naive. And then, you moved to Ravka with your parents and he lost Jordie, and became someone Kaz Rietveld and his friend Y/N would have been terrified of - probably Jordie would be terrified too had he survived and appeared to his club. He shivered at the thought.

But you weren't Jordie - even though you had been a bit shaken at first, you then understood that the life at the Barrel had made its job and changed that boy you once knew. A boy without anyone who could care less about him, he had to harden himself up if he wanted to survive. To become someone who was respected, and the way to respect at the Barrel wasn't a pretty way, it was ruthless. Everyone knew that. He would have died without turning out to be like that, because the Barrel has pity for no one, not even children.

You had grown up, but you still had that bright spark in your eyes you already had at ten years old - where he wasn't the same, he had become something much more worse, but still... maybe even Kaz Brekker could befriend Kaz Rietveld's childhood best friend.

[jawritter]

Save Me

Summary: It’s hard to be the hero, especially when no one saves you. 

Warnings: Cannon level Dean Winchester depression. Mentions and hints of drug use, Alcohol abuse and excessive drinking, language, self loathing, maybe a hint of jealous!Dean? Dean’s in a very dark place in this fic, and it’s a tear jerker. 

Paring: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2013

A/N: This fic was based on the song Save Me, by Jelly Roll. The lyrics are in Italics. This fic was also beta’d by @miss-nerd95! Thanks so much hun! Please do not copy my work! I hope you all enjoy this one! 

Want More? Check my Masterlist!!! Want even more? Become a patreon, and as little for two dollars a month you can get exclusive fics first!!

**MASTERLIST**       ***BECOME A PATREON***

Somebody save me Me from myself I've spent so long Living in hell

Dean twisted the cap off of another bottle and downed the contents of the warm alcohol quick enough to make himself a little tipsy, and that alone felt like an accomplishment. He could hear Elieen and Sam in the room just down the hall from him, and honestly, it made him sick. 

It wasn't  that he disliked Elieen. In fact, he was the one that told Sam to go for it. She knew what they did, understood their lifestyle because she herself was a hunter and if Sam had a chance at being happy, who was he to tell him otherwise. It was more than Dean himself felt he’d ever have, or even deserve. 

He supposed this was the price of being the 'hero'. The guy who saved everyone's  ass. Why couldn't he be the one getting saved for once?

Eileen’s laughter cut through the silence  of the Bunker and drifted into Dean’s room where he pulled the covers up over his head to try and block  the sound. 

He was tired of living this way, but once he got drunk enough to not feel the lonely ache in his chest, he guessed it would stop mattering then. Then he could carry on with this shit-storm of a life he’d been reduced too. People thought Hell was lonely, turns out it was pretty much the same topside too.

They say my lifestyle is bad for my health It's the only thing that seems to help All of this drinking and smoking is hopeless but feel like it's all that I need Something inside of me is broken, I hold onto anything that sets me free

“Dean, you're getting too old to drink like that, man,” Sam said from his side of the table in the library where he and Eileen had taken up residence to look for another hunt. Dean hoped they’d fucking find one because he was tired of sitting here looking at them and just twiddle  his thumbs.

His liver desperately wanted him to find something to do with himself as well, not just keep on damaging it, and seemed to be screaming at him pretty loud this morning. 

“I’m fine, Sam. I quit the hard stuff a long time ago. I just need some sleep. Come get me if you guys come up with a hunt.” 

He got up and slid the chair back with more force than needed, but he hated it when Sam tried to butt in his life and tell him what he should and shouldn’t be doing. It’s easy to say shit like that when you don’t have to wake up to a cold bed every morning. 

Dean was just like everyone else. He craved companionship that didn’t come from some one night stand he picked up at a bar. He wanted a family, hell, he wanted to have kids someday. There goes that opportunity when you're in your forties and too damn broken to even get through the night without alcohol. 

“So much for being a good father figure,” Dean snorted to himself as he flopped down on his bed, letting the silence that stood in his room carve him deeper than any torturer from Hell could conjure up, or any wound his body had ever endured. 

Dean’s eyes drifted over to the almost empty bottle of Tennessee Whiskey on his nightstand, and he let out a huff. He would never tell Sam about the dime bag he kept in the hiding place under the floorboard of Baby for when things got really bad and he knew that he should stop doing this shit to himself, but it was the only relief he seemed to get sometimes. Today seemed like one of those days.

I'm a lost cause Baby, don't waste your time on me I'm so damaged beyond repair Life has shattered my hopes and my dreams I'm a lost cause Baby, don't waste your time on me I'm so damaged beyond repair Life has shattered my hopes and my dreams

Dean picked up his phone that was lying next to him on the bed, and somehow he started to dial your number, just like he’d done a thousand times over the years. It felt like a lifetime since he’d last seen you, but he always kept your phone number and would even dial it on occasion to just hear you say “hello” before he would quickly hang up. 

But he couldn’t do that to you, he couldn’t put you in the kind of danger his life seemed to be saturated in.  Besides there was no hope for someone like him, and if he thought he was fucked up years ago when he’d first meet you on that hunt in Wichita? Well, fuck if he wasn’t more in deep shit now than he’d ever been. 

Dean was sure you’d moved on by now anyway, he wasn’t going to waste your time on him. He was a lost cause. A shattered, broken shell of the former hunter when he was 28. Now it was all an act and a brave face until he could get stoned enough to get numb to not give a damn, because Dean fucking Winchester wasn’t allowed to feel. And as a result, he never did .

What if the night sky was missing the moon? And there were no shooting stars, to use wishing on you And all of my sorrows, I just wash them down It’s the only peace I've ever found. All of this drinking and smoking is hopeless but feel like it's all that I need Something inside of me is broken, I hold onto anything that sets me free

Dean didn't stop until he was tired of driving, but it was better than being in that Bunker with the couple fucking happy in love. He found himself in probably another state, but fuck if he even knew which one, they all looked the same after so many years on the road. A joint burning slowly in one hand, a bottle of cheap whiskey in another, and his back stretched out on Baby’s sleek, black hood. Nothing out there between him and all of his past years of regret but the stars, and the moon that shined out over the body of water he was parked in front of.

He was starting to feel the effects of his self-medication, and he knew he’d end up spending the night out here-which wasn’t much of a problem for him. At least it was quiet, peaceful even. That or he was just shit-faced enough to drown out the voices in his head that were screaming at him louder than usual that he would die alone, just like his father. Chasing his demons. 

If this little bit of pot and that little bit of alcohol gave him a little earlier out without having to actually pull the trigger? Well, fuck he’d take that too. He deserved nothing less than to die stoned, drunk, and probably in his own vomit. So much for being a hero. At this point though, he was pretty positive that heroes didn’t get saved. 

When the alcohol had run out and he had to lean against a tree to take a piss, he decided that he’d go crawl in the backseat and try to sleep it off so that he could play the hero one more day. That was, if he woke up

When he had flopped across the leather seats of the only real home he’d ever known, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number he was pretty sure he’d never forget. It rang and rang until he was just about to say fuck it, and hang up when you finally answered the phone. 

“Hello?”

Dean’s breath hitched in his throat, and he knew that he should've just hung up but for some reason, he couldn’t. He couldn’t stand the ache in his own chest any longer.

“Hello?” your voice said again as one silent tear slipped down his cheek onto the leather seat underneath him.

“Y/N, It’s Dean… I-uh, I’m sorry to call you so late.”

You could have heard a pin drop as your own heart picked up pace, your mind racing a thousand miles a minute. 

“Dean? Damn it’s been years. I thought you were dead!” you tell him in disbelief, sitting down on the concrete steps outside of your little house. His face still was a clear picture in your mind, the night he’d left you felt like it was yesterday as it was all those years ago. 

“Not dead yet, Sweetheart,”  Dean laughed almost humorlessly. It was too late to hang up now, so he could either lie to her, or he could tell the truth, he could tell her how lonely he really was and how much he regretted the day he’d left her all those years ago. “I’m-uh… I’m thinking about coming by and seeing you for a few days. It’s been a long time, and I just… God Y/N, I just really want to see you again.”

Your mouth fell open in shock. You could tell he’d been drinking by the slurred speech, but it was almost as if you could hear the cry for help in his voice. 

“You know you're always welcome here Dean. I told you years ago, and it still stands today, you can always come home.”

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as the tears started to flow freely down his face now. “So you never moved on? No, Mr Right?” Dean tried to sound like he was joking, but honestly, he just felt like he sounded weak. Still, he had to know. 

“No Dean, I told you-it was you, and it would always be you,” you said, drying tears of your own away with the sleeve of your shirt. “I still love you, Dean, I always will. No matter how dangerous you say it is.”

Dean was about to hang up and tell you it was a mistake, but you had to go and say that. The internal battle was still raging inside of him, but dammit if he wasn’t tired of fighting it.

I'm a lost cause Baby, don't waste your time on me I'm so damaged beyond repair Life has shattered my hopes and my dreams I'm a lost cause Baby, don't waste your time on me I'm so damaged beyond repair Life has shattered my hopes and my dreams

You talked to Dean until he had passed out with the promise he’d see you in the morning. He told you over and over again that you should hang up on him, that you should rightfully tell him to fuck off, but you refused to. So now you stood pacing the front porch of the address you had texted to his phone last night. Praying, hoping that you’d see that beautiful black Impala that haunted your dreams pull down your driveway. 

Some of the things that he’d told you last night that he’d been through were horrific and you knew he wasn’t the same man he was all those years ago, but you also knew he still had the same soul. He saved you all those years ago, and now, it was your turn to save him. 

You didn’t breathe easily until you heard Baby’s engine purr and saw her coming down your street. It took all you had not to run to meet him halfway, and when he got out of the car, he said nothing, just wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tight into him-like you were a lifeline, and if he let you go, he’d never surface again. Little did you know that it was exactly what he felt.

“You’re home Dean,” you told him through broken sobs of your own mixed with his. 

And he was. Finally, someone decided he might just be worth saving too, and he was glad that it was you.

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl @love-jackles-37-blog @miraclesoflove @waywardsistershy @emoryhemsworth @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel @softsebastian @tatted-trina6​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @hayleeharling​   @flamencodiva​ @coldmuffinbanditshoe​ @bxbyizzy​ @rain-dance-goblin​ @itmejado​ @supernatural3002​

[angstyaches]

8 or 9 for Shayne, 14, 20, 25, 26, 32, 33, 34 pls <3

Thanks so much, anon! Sorry for the wait 🖤

Ask Game

8. Is there a certain song or playlist of songs you have that make you think of an OC/your story for them?

Shayne is my main comfort character, and I associate a lot of songs with him, but here's a list of some that are specifically on my Swallow the World playlist because they specifically make me think of him:

"RIP", "Teeth", and "Eye for an Eye" by 8 Graves (honestly, all of their music is a Shayne Vibe for me)

"Little Poor Me" by Layto

"Spit it Out" and "Wish I Wasn't Me" by Solence

"Over It" by Memphis May Fire

There are some that I specifically associate with Shayne and his relationship with Charlie:

"Lovely" cover by Lauren Babic

"Looks Like Rain" by The New Shining

"Beautiful Way" by You Me At Six

"Heaven" by Solence

9. What is one of your character's theme songs?

If I had to pick just one, it'd be "Eye for an Eye" by 8 Graves.

14. Which OC/s do you relate to the most?

I relate most to Shayne and Felix. 

20. Do any of you OCs have pets? What kind? NAME?

Right now, Nancy is the only one from Swallow the World who has a pet. He’s a chameleon and his name is Turquoise (mushroom anon yelled at me about this before so now I’m scared lmao)

There may or may not be another pet who’ll be introduced... eventually. I’m way too excited about it not to give you guys something, though, so let’s just say that her name is going to be Three.

In Lucyverse, Donnacha has a dog back home! She’s a golden lab/mongrel named Millie and she’s a big, goofy sweetheart. 

25. Are there any two characters that are like a dynamic duo/group?

Shayne / Charlie - I mean, come on. 

Elliott / Felix - always a crowd pleaser. 

Shayne / Felix - Shayne gets so freaked out by how intense Felix can get, it’s adorable.

Shayne / Elliott - these two idiots can barely function as individuals, let alone take care of each other.

Ryan / Nancy - one’s an airhead, the other uses too much logic. Recipe for (heavenly) disaster.

Rin / Charlie - neither of them ever had a friend who was so unconditionally kind to them before. They have a really beautiful friendship based on careful listening and responding to the other’s needs.

Lucy / Henry - neither of them has their life together, yet they will always try to fix the other.

Donnacha / Henry - my dumb, queerplatonic boys, I love them, that is all.

Payton / Autumn - they’re both so perfectly sweet, I find they’re an extremely self-indulgent couple to think about.

Autumn / Claudette - best friends with no secrets and no sense of embarrassment around each other.

26. What’s your favourite relationship/dynamic between a set of OCs?

This might be the most obvious answer, but Shayne x Charlie. There’s so much angst going on there and if I was really mean, I’d let it go on forever (but I don’t, because they do, in fact, deserve to be happy. Eventually. Hehe.)

32. What’s been the most ambitious project you’ve made/are making surrounding your characters?

Hmmm. Off-blog, I have about three novel ideas that I want to finish working on, but I have also considered turning Swallow the World into a novel too, editing it a lot more, and maybe (maybe?!) self-publishing it someday. Whether it would be quite as indulgent in *ahem* certain aspects or not, remains to be seen. I’d hate to have a book out there and not to able to tell any of the people in my life about it. 

33. Have you ever had to kill off an OC? How hard was it?

One of my off-blog projects actually revolves around the death of an OC. It wasn’t difficult, particularly because of the devastation it causes the protagonist. Another angsty boi. Who would have guessed?

34. What scene that you’ve written/imagined is your favorite?

One I always come back to is the scene that takes place in Shoes on the Covers, one of the first chapters I ever posted on my blog. I definitely plan on rewriting it someday, and getting rid of the first-person POV. Shayne shows up at Charlie’s house after having a really horrible day, before they’ve even become friends, and acts like an asshole as Charlie continues to be kind to him, until he eventually winds down and admits he’s not feeling well, and lets Charlie try to take care of him... Guys, it’ll never not make me feel warm and cosy inside.

[artificialqueens]

Gimme Love, 1/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Welp! I started this back in March. It was supposed to be a oneshot and then I realised it was 200 odd pages. Whoops! Another songfic based on music by Joji. This one is Gimme Love, which some of you would probably know, it was circling TikTok for a while. Anyway, more song fics to come!! I hope y'all enjoy! Stay safe in these crazy times!

TW: Mental health, panic attacks

1993

"OK, so you got your apple juice, your finger sandwiches, and grapes. And most importantly, you got your best outfit on. Ready?"

No. I wasn't ready. They were going to eat me up. I knew just by how the 3 bitches off to the side stared and laughed. One of them was swinging from the bus stop pole. It sounded evil, but I hoped she would have fallen over.

"No." I clung to my Mother.

"Brianna." She uttered. She was tired, already having dealt with this before leaving the house. And it didn't help that Grandpa only laughed instead of helping out.

"No!" I said louder, squeezing my tiny fists into her shoulders.

"Look. Everything will be fine. The day will fly in, trust me. And I'll be right here when you get off the bus later." Mom continued.

She gave me a kiss on the forehead and shook me off.

As she smoothed her skirt down, I stamped my foot in a huff. For me, this was the second most ultimate betrayal that had ever happened to me. My Mom was making me go to school. How dare she.

"I love you, girl. Be good and have a great day." Mom said before walking away. My gaze followed, feeling the faucet in my eyes turn on. I was prone to cry baby behaviour around this age.

Now that my Mom was gone, it was all game for the bitches.

"Awww, the little baby needs her Mommy." One of them cooed in her fake voice. "Didn't you know the pre-school bus picks up two hours later?"

"Yeah!" Another decided to join in, "And I bet that's not even your real Mommy."

"She is too!" I clenched my tiny fists at my side. This was half true. I was an adopted child, but to me, Roberta was the best Mother I could have ever asked for. And no one had the right to question that.

"No, she's not! Your real Mommy didn't want you 'cause you're ugly!"

"Yeah, look at your hair. It looks like a fur ball."

"And your clothes are obviously hand me downs."

I stamped my feet again. "That's it! I'm giving you the finger!" I flipped them off. I picked it up from Mom, from the many time's drivers pissed her off. When she'd warn me never to do that, I knew it had some sort of power to it.

But it did nothing. The girls just laughed even more. I had no defences; therefore, I was left helpless.

The bus pulled up, and I was last to get in. The girls warned almost everybody to watch out for the "girl with the weird hair".

I moved down the middle of the bus, my head moving from side to side, hoping to find a seat.

Everybody with a free seat either put their bags on the chairs or put their feet up. I wanted to snap, demanding that they let me sit. But the fear inside rendered me silent.

I was nearing the back, where the 3 girls sat. They smirked upon seeing my face, relishing in the fact I was on the verge of tears. All I wanted was to turn back, get off the bus and lock myself in my house.

But as if someone above heard my innermost thoughts, that's when I heard it.

"Do you need a seat?"

I looked towards the voice. And I froze. There she was, an absolute angel. She looked like a Disney Princess with her bright blonde hair and blue eyes.

I hesitated for a moment. But the bus began to move. So I sat down next to her.

"Hi," I said.

"Hey." Her eyes were observing me, looking me up and down. And I felt even more stunned. "You have funny hair."

"My Mommy says I have lovely hair," I replied in defence.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way. I just never seen hair like that." The girl replied.

My hair wasn't even bad. I just had a massive head of untamed brown curls. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Then again, I had never seen anyone with hair like hers. She looked like she had gone to a salon beforehand. "Your hair looks golden."

"Thank you." She smiled. "I'm Blair. My favourite colour is yellow, and I wanna be a singer when I grow up. How about you?"

"I'm Brianna. My favourite colour is pink. And...I wanna be a politician someday."

"What's a pola...polatichon?" Blair asked.

"A politician." I corrected her. "I don't know what they do. They just shout a lot. And that's what I want to do."

Blair had no idea what I was talking about, but she laughed anyway. And that made my heart skip a beat.

I felt something pelt the back of my head. I grabbed it, looking at the small rolled up bit of my paper in my hand. It was wet. I had just been spitballed for the first time.

Blair looked over her shoulder, and I did the same. It was the three bitches from the bus stop. They weren't even hiding their giggles.

"Not nice." Blair stuck her tongue out at them. Then, turning back around in her seat, she put her hand on mine. "Don't worry about them. I'm your friend, Brianna."

"Really?" My eyes brightened.

"Of course!"

As much as that statement had made my heart soar, how it made me feel like there was nothing to be afraid of…

It was the biggest lie I heard that day.

As soon as I got off the bus at the end of the day, I waved to Blair, unaware that she would be sitting with the 3 bitches the next day.

And then it went on for years, being that ugly girl with weird hair. And it didn't help that I needed glasses later in life.

But I wasn't completely alone. So let me tell you about Jujubee.

2020

"Hey, asshole! I'm pulling in there!"

Jujubee was hanging out the driver side window, flicking the indicator aggressively.

"Juju, can you just...not do that?" I asked, my eyes glued to my phone as I checked how many people had seen my Instagram story. It was a picture of the two of us, showing off our outfits that had been gifted from Alexander McQueen.

"And let that asshole steal my spot? Absolutely not." Jujubee protested. She flipped the guy off, only to receive the same gesture back at her. She wasn't prone to behaving like this. I usually found it absolutely hilarious how loud she could be.

Now, you're probably wondering - two well-dressed ladies in their Alexander McQueen outfits should be seated in the back of a limo, sipping champagne.

I wasn't a fan of limos. They only drew attention.

And with Jujubee hurling dog abuse at the other drivers, I was sure the attention would be on us.

But we made it to the event without any trouble.

Jujubee was hilarious, intentionally and unintentionally. I learned that all the way back on my second day of school. When it was clear to me that I wouldn't be friends with anyone else, I ventured off on my own, exploring the playground and looking for bugs. But, instead, I found her sitting alone in the sandbox.

"Leave me alone. I'm trying to dig to the centre of the Earth." She had said, blowing her shiny black hair out of her face.

I knew she would only reach the bottom of the pit, so I laughed, and I helped her dig. We had been inseparable since.

We grew up together, all the way through elementary, high school and college. And through those years, we had one thing in common - we were the weird ones. The kids who everyone bullied.

Ugh, I hated that word; bullied. It made me feel pathetic and helpless. Jujubee and I, however? We were far from pathetic and helpless. After all, how would we even be where we were if that was the case?

OK, maybe I was pathetic and helpless growing up. No, I was. I had just accepted all the name-calling, the shoving, the damage. Jujubee, on the other hand, would fight against it all.

But back to the current situation. We were now sitting at a table with the other project workers. Everyone was having a great time, and the event hadn't even really begun yet. They passed jokes around, talked about trials and tribulations, and I laughed along.

But I may as well have been alone as I was stuck in my own thoughts. How it was even possible, we were all gathered here for this moment.

I looked at Jujubee, sitting next to me, and felt an overwhelming need to hug the shit out of her. If it weren't for her being so encouraging, then maybe this wouldn't have happened.

"What's up?" She caught me staring.

I lowered my head for a moment, breathing a laugh out through my nostrils. I didn't want to get sappy with her, even though she deserved my gratitude. My best friend, my ride-or-die bitch. Lifting my head again, I smirked. "Nothing. I'm just glad you're on this team." I raised my glass to her before sipping the bubbling champagne.

"Proud of you bitch." Jujubee reaching over and squeezed my free hand.

I was proud of me too. Because, despite all of the shit I dealt with in school, here I was, the manager and director of this whole operation.

All of the hard work paid off - years of trials and tribulations, so many arguments and disagreements. We finally did it. We found a gateway to another world, a parallel universe, a portal in the middle of the space just waiting to be explored.

Of course, people doubted me. They said things like, "Well, it is a dream, all right." How could anyone blame them?

But here we were.

The speaker, Michelle, called me up onto the stage to receive a certificate, all encased in a glass frame. I exchanged air kisses with her and graciously took the award. Jujubee cheered me on as I stood up there, letting people take pictures.

And then came the obligatory speech.

I couldn't lie; I hated public speaking. It was always something I struggled with. But, I never backed down from one. I just liked to keep them short and sweet.

"Long story short, I had dreams, and I worked towards them. So, here I am, an example of the walking embodiment of success. And I thank each and every one of you, ladies and gentlemen. Have a great night."

Short and sweet. The crowd applauded.

Yes, I was told in the past that I'm arrogant, but I disagreed. I'd say confident. And there was nothing wrong with confidence. After all, there has been a stigma around that word. Doesn't it come from a sense of insecurity, the need to tear successful people down because you're afraid to strive towards your goals?

I deserved to feel this successful, for all those times I was laughed at and ridiculed. I look down on all those assholes and let them know that I made it.

I posed for pictures as I held my award, knowing they would be everywhere the next day; in the papers, magazines, the Internet.

This wasn't the first award I had received. I had a shelf full back home, along with all of my past badges. They reminded me that, once upon a time, I was just any other office worker with her yellow badge. And now here I was, the director of the project with my black badge working closely with the government.

I got off the stage and moved back to my chair. Jujubee rolled her eyes, but her smile remained.

"Where's the after-party?" I asked as the audience shifted their attention from me.

Sometimes I never understood how she put up with me. "Don't worry. I got us covered."

She wasn't lying. A few hours later, we were in the apartment of some other rich somebody. Music was bouncing off the walls, the speakers apparently on full blast.

The main lights were out, replaced with multicoloured LEDs dancing around the place. It was as if we were in our own private club.

Jujubee and I were in the crowd dancing, but because I was absolutely wasted, I lost her many times.

No need to panic, however. Jujubee wasn't a drinker. So she'd find me. She always did.

I really did feel sorry that she had to deal with all of my shenanigans.

"Juju, where the fuck are you??" I roared, not that it would do much. Midsummer Madness by 88RISING was blaring now. Starting to stress out now.

I grabbed a champagne flute as a waiter walked by.

"Brianna, I love the dress." A woman leaned over and shouted in my ear. I had met her before at another event, a fashion reporter if I remembered correctly.

"Thanks. It's Versaci."

As I said earlier, it was fucking Alexander McQueen. I was faded.

Somehow I ended up in the bathroom, throwing up all the alcohol I had consumed into the toilet. After I finished, I washed my mouth out, looked at my reflection and said, "Baby, you're a star."

And somehow, I made it back downstairs. I was searching for Jujubee but found someone else instead. And it was fucking Ed Sheeran.

"I love your new song." I lied.

"Which one?"

"The new one." I smiled. "Hey, Ed. You wanna be the first person to go through the portal?" I wrapped an arm around him.

He looked absolutely taken aback. "Of fucking course. My manager will be in touch."

I really hoped he was joking. Why the fuck had I even suggested it?

I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Jujubee. My nerves settled, and I leaned closer to her. "Let's go outside."

I had no recollection of making it out to the balcony. The only thing I remembered happening before then was rambling to many strangers about how much I adored Jujubee.

A few other party attendees were outside too. I wanted to tell them how I didn't deserve Jujubee and that she was an angel. But she quickly steered me away.

I looked out over the city, a happy smile on my face.

"Are you having fun, baby girl?" Jujubee asked, using her favourite pet name for me. She sparked up a cigarette. I wanted to ask her for one, having gone from chain smoker to social smoker in recent years. But I was too distracted by the view.

"Yeah. I can feel it, Juju." I replied, looking at my hands. It was almost like I could actually feel it. The euphoric feeling of success running in my veins. "Good things are coming."

"Oh, I feel it too." Jujubee blew out the smoke and followed my gaze. "You know what? Your Grandpa was a great guy. And I know that he's proud of you."

My smile dropped. And I was silent.

I preferred to avoid speaking about things like this. Emotions weren't something I liked to deal with - another difference between Jujubee and me.

Just the year prior, we both went to see Midsommar. During the scene where the main character is having a breakdown on the ground surrounded by the Hargan woman screaming along with her, Jujubee was captivated. She looked almost like she wanted to scream along with them. And as she squeezed my hand and leaned over to me, she said, "I need someone to do that with me." I replied with a quiet, "Can't relate."

I'm not insensitive. I just feared emotions for two reasons.

1. They could be weaponised against me. And as much as I tried not to let the online hate get to me, I knew that if it ever became personal, then it would hit difficult.

2. The most important reason of all; a childhood full of breakdowns and too many emotions.

Jujubee nudged me. "You wanna go?"

I didn't want to. But I said, "Yeah. I'm...so drunk right now," and turned away from the city view.

"Can I be that annoying whore and ask if I can stay at your place?" Jujubee asked, taking my hand.

She didn't even need a reason. "Yes, you can."

We waded our way through the crowd, made for the door and left. And before I knew it, we were back at my place, lying in my bed. I loaned her a t-shirt to sleep in. I wanted to sleep in my Alexander McQueen. But Jujubee wouldn't let me.

We both lay there, facing the ceiling. I could already feel the oncoming suffering. Usually, I loved moments like these, when time became fluid, when I didn't have to worry about how I had even gotten home.

But my head was pounding, and the loud ringing in my ears was the cause. If I was bad now, I'd be dead by morning.

I could feel Jujubee's eyes on me, and I looked back at her. She was smiling, her brown eyes glimmering. "Almost there, girl."

Despite the pain I was in, I smiled back. I knew this whole thing, the thingy, the portal; it wasn't just my dream. It was hers too.

Fuck, I was hammered.

"Almost there," was all I could manage to say.

Jujubee turned on her side and treated me to some cuddly spooning. "OK, go to sleep, loser."

It was straining on my neck, but I kept my head turned, letting my eyes linger for a moment longer. God, I fucking loved that bitch. Nothing was ever going to come between us, and that made me the happiest.

I turned over, my back relaxing against her torso. Then, before giving in to my exhaustion, I checked my phone. The bright light made me squint at first. And the alcohol in my system didn't help matters.

I checked how many people had seen my story now. The number was blurry. So I aimlessly swiped notifications away.

But I stopped at one message in particular.

Blair: Hey Brianna! Long time no speak. I just wanted to say I saw pictures from your thing tonight. Congrats, girl! Look, I know you're probably super busy, but I'd love to have a catch up with you sometime.

"..." My eyes were wide. Now that was a name I hadn't heard in a long time.

1995

"Do you see Cassiopeia yet?" Juju whined.

I was trying my hardest to find it in the telescope. But the stars were all in clutters; there were so many. "No. I think I see the big dipper, though."

"Really? Let me have a turn!" Juju begged.

I pulled away from the telescope, allowing Juju her turn. Usually, I would have refused, only letting her use the scope after finding what I was looking for.

I really hadn't found the big dipper, but Juju bought it. "Wooooow. That's so cool."

"I know, right?" I smirked.

The backdoor opened, and Grandpa came out in his winter jacket, pj's and his signature slippers. "How many have you girls found now?"

He was carrying two mugs of hot chocolate with whipped cream. I cheered excitedly because Grandpa's hot chocolate was the best, and I'd fight anyone who tried to tell me otherwise.

"We found the big dipper. But that's it." Juju replied, sounding very much let down.

"Don't lose hope," Grandpa gave us our hot chocolate, "some are harder to find than others. I bet there are a lot more constellations out there that haven't even been discovered yet."

I sipped the hot drink, and I could feel it already warming me up. I was so tempted to take my gloves off and let the mug warm them up. But we promised my Mom we would stay wrapped up. "Do you think we could discover one?"

Grandpa took a seat on one of the old deck chairs. "Brianna, you can do anything you set your mind to. Anything is possible."

"One day, I wanna get into a rocket ship and fly away," I said, looking up at the night sky, imagining the scene in my head.

"Hey, Mr Caldwell, are there other people like us? Just looking up at the sky?" Juju asked, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

"That's an interesting question. I'd say yes, what with how nice the sky is tonight," Grandpa let his gaze trail up, the stars reflecting in his eyes, "But did you know, somewhere far, far away, there are two little girls who are exactly like you. They look the same, they talk the same and even have your names. And they are doing exactly what you're doing right now."

My brows knit in confusion, "what do you mean 'far far away?"

Grandpa looked down again, seeing how intrigued Juju and I was. "Let's just call it the other world. It's basically like our world, but...certain things are different. Like," he paused to think, "maybe cats bark and dogs meow. Or, maybe the sky is pink and not blue. Maybe you girls are actually older, and I'm the young one."

"Do horseys fly in the other world?" Juju asked with much optimism.

"Probably. I don't see why not." Grandpa shrugged.

I glanced up at the sky as if I would somehow just see it. Another world where life was somewhat better.

"Would my Mommy and Daddy have given me up in the other world?" I asked quietly.

Grandpa was silent. His lips were pursed, forming a tight line like there were words on the tip of his tongue that he knew he shouldn't say.

Juju hugged me from the side. I wanted to hug her back but didn't want to cry.

Her hold made me feel safe, so I offered her a half-smile.

Since my first day at school, when those cretins had tried to tell me Roberta wasn't my real Mom, it stuck with me. Yeah, I knew deep down those girls didn't know shit, and Roberta was the best Mother in the world, but I was only human.

As much as I loved my Mom, Grandpa and other family members, I just wanted to feel acceptance from my biological parents.

"Brianna, honey, whoever your family is in the other world, I'm sure they love you from the bottom of their hearts. Just like we do." Grandpa said. He extended his arms out, offering me a hug.

I didn't want it. But I knew I needed it.

That night, we didn't find any constellations. Not that it mattered. After my Grandpa went back inside, Juju and I were set on finding the other world instead.

And this interest went on for nearly a whole year.

It sounded dumb, but we would play games where we were our 'other world selves'. Juju lived in a house full of cats, and they were 'cutest cats in the whole country. So cute they won every pageant!'

And I lived in a huge mansion with my Mom, Grandpa, and my biological parents.

We collectively agreed that our other world selves were the prettiest girls in school, and we had tons of friends. We were so cool, we didn't even have to go to school.

Of course, this started a minor argument between us. Juju would always say, "how can we be the prettiest girls at school if we don't have to go to school??"

"Shut up, Juju! Anything is possible in the other world!"

"Yeah, but it doesn't make sense!"

All of it was so ridiculous. But we loved every minute of it.

I'll never forget the time we built a fort in the woods at the back of my house, and Juju stood under the archway and shouted. "I'm the queen of 'Other World'. Beware ye bastards who enter our domain!"

Then she got upset because she said a bad word and thought she had betrayed her parents.

A few minutes later, I fucked up.

"I, Brianna Caldwell, am the Queen of 'Other World'. I sit on this throne along with my best friend, Blair St Clair!"

Juju was even more upset now.

"Why is she your best friend?? I'm your best friend!" She began to cry.

"Jujubee, it's only pretend." I tried to reason with her.

"No, Brie-Brie. You're always talking about Blair! I know you would rather be best friends with her than me!"

"That's not true!"

"It is!" She wept. "She'll never be your friend, Brie-Brie. She doesn't even like you."

"Take that back!"

"No!"

My anger was bubbling beyond the boiling point. So I shoved her over. "Go away. Now!"

Juju ran off crying.

My teeth were grit, my fists clenched. For about 5 minutes, I stormed around the fort, screaming in anger and kicking the ground.

Mom was freaked out. She knew it was me screaming, so she came running. When she found me, she shouted at me for scaring the absolute fuck out of her.

This only pissed me off more. It took her 5 minutes to get me to chill out.

When I finally explained what happened, she told me it was OK and that we'd be friends again the next day.

It didn't help my mood, so she took me to the mall. It was a rare occasion for us to visit the place. We weren't the richest, what with Mom struggling to keep a job. She wasn't a lousy worker; someone else would just come along who was much more experienced. And without another parental figure to help out, it just meant not much money was being brought into the house.

But Mom decided we'd go to the toy store, and I'd find two dolls, one for me and one for Juju. I made sure they looked exactly like us. Well, considering the nice clothes and great hair, they were our other-selves.

And leaving the building, I was perched on Mom's shoulders, eating the biggest ice cream cone I had ever gotten, when I looked over at the jewellery shop. Two women were leaving the store, holding hands. They leaned in close to each other and kissed.

I just...stared as they smiled at each other, mesmerised by the adoration they so clearly shared.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, Brianna, baby?"

"Why are those two ladies kissing?"

Mom cast a quick glance to where I was looking. "Oh. OK, first of all, don't stare. It's rude. But yeah, they're just two ladies in love with each other. That's all."

I looked away, just as she told me to do. "They're in love? I thought only boys and girls could be in love."

"I guess they're still telling you that in school, huh?" Mom quipped. "Well, I'll tell you this, but keep it on the down-low 'cause I don't want no parents coming and knocking on my door saying you're putting ideas into their kids' heads." She laughed. "The truth is; boys can fall in love with boys, and girls can fall in love with girls. You fall in love with whoever your heart tells you to, Brianna."

I nodded. "Uh, huh. OK, I understand." But then, it hit me. "Fuck."

"Brianna." Mom warned. She knew I was prone to sometimes spurting a few cuss words. But she only had herself to blame.

"Sorry, Mommy." And as we left the mall, my brain couldn't stop thinking about what had popped into my head.

Maybe, just maybe, I was in love with Blair.

My mind was taking me back to years prior, still in my first year of elementary school. It was coming up to Valentine's Day, and we all had to make a card for someone in the class. Bit of a weird activity for a bunch of kids who were more concerned if they were getting bikes for Christmas or not.

And I slaved over my card, making it yellow instead of the traditional pink colour, and drawing daisies all over it.

The message read, "You really deserve this. You're welcome." I've always been a poetic genius.

And instead of giving it to any of the boys, I insisted it went to Blair.

I had vague memories of that day. I only remembered her confused face as I handed it over.

I never received a card in return.

Of course, the other kids picked on me for it. But Juju had my back.

"You're all just jealous 'cause Brie-Brie's card is unique!" I remember her shouting.

But of course, they weren't jealous. This concept was foreign to them - a girl gifting another girl with a Valentine's Day gift. But then again, they just didn't know any better.

[cherry-ber]

Too drunk to fuck (pt 1)

A. N: so I originally wrote this as a very soft thing, while I myself was kinda tipsy and emo so I figured it was only fair to re-write this with a vibe that fitted the song that inspired it in the first place. I really hope this doesn't turn out shitty.

Anyway as if it needed to be stated, I have a soft spot for Mark but bad boy/ fuckboy / kinda punk - ish Mark??? Yes please.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everybody seemed to know something about Mark Lee that you didn't understand. You've heard countless rumors about him, how he is agressive and how he's even been in jail a hundred times, how he got expelled from 20 different schools, how he got in a physical fight with a police officer, but after the first time you bumped into him you knew it was absolute bullshit.

The events of that damned day replayed on your head every single night since it first happened a month ago, and you felt like the dumbest girl ever for falling for him, and it was probably true.

That Tuesday morning, you were running late after ditching your alarm five times, arriving to your classroom barely on time, you ran into him, making him drop his phone and his helmet.

“Oh shit, man, I'm sorry” you said quietly, he could barely hear you, and went inside.

You should have known better, because you pissed him off, and you've heard, the guy was scary when he was pissed off.

So, after what seemed the most boring class ever, as you were putting your books in your backpack, he entered the classroom and went directly to your table, staring at you as if he was trying to look intimidating. Everyone noticed, except you.

“Can I help you?” you started almost annoyed, but when you turned to face him, you felt almost afraid “ah, it's you. Listen man, I'm very sorry and I should've apologized better but I was running late-”

He abruptly interrupted you with the cockiest thing you've ever heard, even from a jerk like him:

“I don't care, you should respect me better”

As much of an idiot you've heard he was, you never spoke to him, so hearing him speak to you like that ignited the flame of your very short temper.

“Fucking pardon? Who do you think you are?”

And it seemed like the first someone spoke to him like that, he looked almost amazed and for a whole minute he was speechless and his bad boy attitude wrecked.

“Fuck off” he said and stormed out, leaving you with everybody staring at you in disbelief, but to you, calling him out was just common sense, and you didn't even say anything mean at all.

And as if that first encounter wasn't bad enough, after school, he waited at the exit, and when he spotted you, he walked in your direction and stood in front of you, keeping you from walking away.

“We should go out someday”

And you did. Many days, actually. He would wait outside for you, say hey and walk you to the parking lot, you'd ride his motorcycle and stop in an old abandoned house, you'd go behind it and make out there for an hour or two. At first it was almost exciting, knowing what people thought of him, yet you felt like he was wrapped around your finger every day for some hours at least. But as expected, it escalated quickly. For a whole week and a half, you kept telling yourself that you were strong, that you didn't want to get involved with him, you were just helping him out to release his damn hormones, and that was it. But the day he grinned at you when he saw you walking towards him, you knew you were fucked; up to that point, you thought that Mark Lee was just a hormonal jerk, that built a bad boy image based on nothing but his arrogance and his feeling of being superior, you actually disliked him, but not enough to leave him, because he was almost a good kisser, and his hair was soft when you ran your fingers through it, and fucking damn him, he was actually kinda hot. That was the same day he accidentally grabbed your hand when you were walking to his motorcycle. You always walked close, but never really said a word to each other, and when you did, it was meaningless, maybe him saying you looked nice, maybe you saying you liked his jacket or a cold how was your day when he looked stressed, knowing he wouldn't reply until you were kissing and he was being rough, biting your lips or holding your hands so you don't touch him, he was just like that.

He made it look like an accident, he was lightning a cigarette, and as he was blowing out the smoke, you walking slightly behind him, he reached for your hand, but you immediately panicked and stop, so he just pulled you closer, annoyed by your response, as if he was expecting you to squeeze his hand and walk like any other couple would.

“C'mon, we don't have time for that” he said, dismissing what just happened, brushing away the fact that he liked the heat he felt when he touched you. You were hesitant to grab onto him while he was driving, but he always went so fast it was impossible not to do it.

When you arrived to your secret place, as he was taking off his helmet, and you the one he started carrying just for you, you couldn't help but feel nervous, and you were disgusted with the idea of him being the reason, but you followed him anyway, knowing that even if you didn't want to be there, you would never tell him, you were weak for him, but why would you?

He sat on the ground, and as always, you followed him, sitting on his lap, and you couldn't help but stare at his eyes, his beautiful, shiny eyes, and then his marvelous lips. He probably realized, and you looked away almost blushing, but that only made him giggle. It was the first time you ever heard him giggle, and it was angelic, you couldn’t help but smile. He put your hair behind your ear, and caressed your cheek slowly, as his lips were getting closer to yours, and when he finally kissed you, it felt like electricity running through your body. You caught feelings for Mark.

When he pulled away, you were petrified, you felt scared, but you knew better than showing him how he made you feel, so you kissed him, passionately, not giving him a chance to think, you didn't want to leave a single second where he could talk. As it often occurred, his hands were on your waist, moving through your body, from your thighs, to your chest, stopping for a moment on your neck, you pulling the collar of his white shirt, your hands roaming from his back to his shoulders and his precious hair, only pulling away again when you felt his bulge grow harder, thinking that what you felt before never happened, and that what you really wanted from him was exactly just that, but as you ran your hand over his jeans, he stopped you softly.

“We never really talk. I want that.” he said, squeezing lightly your thigh.

If you did as we wanted, you knew it would be over. You didn't want him to talk, you just wanted his lips, you weren't interested in meeting him, you knew he was a jerk, but he didn't think the same.

“Y/N, how was your day?” he asked with genuine interest, and as you were about to tell him how your teacher was being so hard on your group with pop quizzes every other day, his phone rang. You felt relieved that he was going to pick up when he checked who was calling, and got off him, fixing your clothes and your hair, then trying to fix his hair, he smiled when he felt your fingers playing with his hair, he hung up the phone and glanced nervously at you.

“I'm so fucking sorry, I have to go now, do you want me to drop you home?” Hesitantly, you said yes, and rode home, somehow feeling empty inside, wanting to ask if everything was okay everytime you stopped in a red light, but unable to speak a word, until you arrived home, you knew no one was there, and as you were giving him the helmet back, he asked for your number, “in case I need it” he said.

Head over the clouds, you waited for him to text you the rest of the day, and you were unable to sleep peacefully, hoping he'd call saying sorry for leaving early, and not calling before, but he didn't, and for the next three days, he was not waiting for you outside, you just saw him leave, riding alone, never looking back to you, and you knew then you made a mistake. You should have never kissed him, you should have never talked to him at all, and you sure should have never ever fell for him, but you did, and it was more painful than someone could ever imagine, no one ever warned you about feeling something for him.

Friday, 7:36 p.m: unknown number: “Do you wanna come to a party tomorrow?”

♡ Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GUYS I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG AND I NEEDED TO POST SOMETHING SOON OR I'D LOSE MY MIND, THERE WILL BE A PART 2 BUT I FELT LIKE IT WAS ENOUGH FOR A SINGLE POST

[cc-pdf]

What’s It Like In New York City?

Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Quirkless rock band au

Based off of the song, Hey There Delilah

Word count: 2913

Warnings: Slight alcohol use. Nothing to be worried about though.

  After a long day at university you decided you deserved a night out on the town. Although you had piles of homework to do, you decided to put that all aside and just relax and have a few drinks. You grabbed your big winter coat and stepped out of campus into the swirling cold winter outside. L Street Tavern was one of the closest bars to your campus, so you decided to settle down there. Plus, they always have live music there, even better.

  After a short walk through the blistering cold air you had finally arrived at the historic bar. You noticed a flyer on the window it read,

  "Sex Bob Omb playing tonight."

  You had never heard of them before. It was probably just some local band. You stepped through the bars creaking door and took a seat on one of the oak stools. There were only a few other people at the bar. Most of them were probably in their mid 40s or 50s. You had given them a slight wave when you sat down just to be friendly. They had waved back, but then quickly returned back to their conversations. You weren't really looking for people to talk to, you just wanted to relax after the stressful day.

  After a couple of drinks you heard the tuning of a guitar in the corner. You looked over to see a couple people in the corner. They were dressed like classic teenage band members. Black jeans, skate shoes, a random t-shirt they found in the back of their closet. You examined each member. A spiky blond seemed to be the lead. He was tuning his guitar and had a microphone stood in front of him. Behind him was a short black haired girl behind a microphone. She seemed to be the backup singer. The last person was a crazy red haired boy at the drums. It seemed like your typical band that probably practices in the garage. You loved those types of bands. Something about them just seemed so raw and authentic.

  A few moments later you jumped to the sound of the red hair banging his drum sticks together.

  "ONE TWO THREE GO!" He yelled signaling the band to start.

  You never really thought a band like this would be playing at a historic bar in the middle of a harsh Boston winter. But, bands really will play wherever they can nowadays. They have to try and get any recognition they can.

  "This is the beginning of the song." The blond muttered into the microphone with his raspy voice. "I'm hearing voices, animal voices. The creme da la creme. the feminine abyss. And I'm reaching my threshold. Staring at the truth till i'm blind." He began lazily singing with the sound of a rough, badly tuned guitar.

  The lyrics weren't too bad for just some random band. You actually thoroughly enjoyed the sound of such a band like this. You could see the the crazy red hair banging at the broken down set of drums releasing all of his anger. It made you giggle a bit.

  "My body's stupid, stereo putrid. Spilling out music into raw sewage." The girl jumped into sing. She surprisingly had a pretty good voice, although it didn't really suit the vibe of the band.

  "Reaching my threshold. Staring at the truth till I'm blind." They all sang together. They repeated the same verses a couple more times. When the song had ended you could tell they were all out of breath from the loud performance. They were panting like dogs on a hot summer day.

  "WE ARE SEX BOB OMB!!!" The girl yelled out to the bar while raising her hands in the air.

  "I hope you guys enjoyed, but we've lost all of our breath for tonight, peace." The blond said while walking into the back room. Most people started clapping and cheering, some people were booing them at the fact they only played one song, but you just returned to your bitter cold beer in front of you. The cold alcohol entering your stomach calmed you from your hard day.

  A few moments later the band members took a seat at the bar near you. It seemed they just wanted a few drinks after that harsh performance.

  "Miller Lite, please." The spiky blond said to the bar tender under his raspy tone.

  "Same here." The other two members said. The bar tender poured the three drinks and slid them across the bar to them.

  "You like the show?" The blond looked over and asked to you, as you sipped your cold drink.

  "Yeah, wasn't expecting such a lame band to go this hard." You said looking over to him.

  "Hey, we try our best to look professional here." He snapped back at you.

  "I'm just teasing." You said focusing back on your drink.

  "So, you from around here?" He said with his masculine tone.

  "I go to university near here, but I'm originally from New York City." You said fiddling with the rim of your drink.

  "The big apple, huh? Must've been rough living there." He responded.

  "Not really..." You said taking a sip of your beer.

  "We're from around here. Cambridge to be exact. We spend a lot of time over in Boston though. Trying to get a good gig." He explained while taking another sip of his Miller Lite.

  "I'm sure you'll get a gig. You're pretty good." You said trying to sound nice.

  "Thanks. Maybe you can come watch us here again sometime." He said passing you a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket with their schedule printed on it.

  "Thanks, but I'm leaving the city for a few weeks to visit family back in New York. Maybe I'll see you after. My names y/n, by the way." You said looking into his bright crimson eyes while grabbing the schedule. You could see the disappointment in his eyes.

  "Oh, well that's a downer. You must be pretty busy with school too..." He said trailing off.

  "Damnit Bakugou, stop flirting with the poor girl." The red hair chipped in. The girl laughed along.

  "Shut up you prick, at least she's not a whore. I'm not even flirting." He snapped at them while getting up to go to the bathroom.

  After he had came back things were pretty quiet after the remark the red hair had made.

  About a half hour later you decided you should start heading back to campus. It was 12:30 and you needed some rest.

  "Hey, I'll try and come see your band when I come back." You said waving to them as you walked out the door.

  "See ya!" The blond said with that tired voice of his.

  "Yeah, see ya." The other two trailed along.

  You knew you probably wouldn't see them again because you're always so hung up with school. It didn't really matter to you anyways, they were just some random band at the bar.

  Little did you know, the ash blond, Katsuki Bakugou, thought you were absolutely stunning. With that perfect h/l, h/c hair of yours, your big, e/c eyes, and your little smile, you were nothing but perfect to him. You were stuck in his mind for the next few weeks. You weren't some crazy little fake fan girl looking to fuck for once. You seemed genuine.

  You had pinned the schedule he gave you onto the cork board in your dorm. Although you didn't really care too much to go and see them again, maybe it would be nice to check and see if they're still playing at L Street Tavern when you get back.

  Only a couple days later you got on the bus to New York. It was a long ride, but it was worth it all in the end. You desperately wanted to see your family after 4 long months of living alone at school.

~

  A couple weeks after your encounter with Katsuki Bakugou you still hadn't left his mind. Your beautiful name was glued to his brain. He decided to tune up his guitar and start a song about you. He liked to get his thoughts out by writing songs. It calmed him. He started with a simple,

  "Hey there y/n, what's it like in New York City? I'm a thousand miles away, but, girl, tonight you look so pretty." He thought it sounded cheesy, but he continued writing it anyways. He enjoyed the sound of a rough acoustic guitar against a sweet love song. He had never written a song like this before, it was all so new to him. He usually wrote songs about his anger or hate for people, usually engaging in more of a hard rock, or head bangers.

  A couple days later he decided to find an open mic to play the song at. He was pretty proud of the new tune and couldn't help but share it. He found an open mic session at a small family owned restaurant right around the corner from L Street Tavern. He was worried you might show up and hear the song, but he remembered, you were staying in New York for a pretty long time.

  The night of the open mic had come. He stepped into the tiny restaurant and sat down at a table with his guitar. There was quite a few people at the restaurant that night. He hoped they would like his newly crafted love song.

  Eventually, he stepped into the space with the cheap microphone and pulled his guitar strap over his shoulder.

  "I wrote this song for a girl that's been stuck in my mind for the past few weeks. I hope you enjoy." He said into the microphone.

  Authors note - Hey, I would suggest maybe listening to Hey There Delilah by Plain White Ts during this part :) okay back to the story.

  He started gently strumming his guitar to a rhythm.

  "Hey there y/n what's it like in New York City? I'm a thousand miles away, but, girl, tonight you look so pretty. Yes you do. Times square can't shine as bright as you. I swear, it's true." He began the song with his lazy guitar playing. He continued the song. He could tell most of the people in the restaurant enjoyed the honesty behind the lyrics. It made him happy someone was enjoying his work.

  "Hey there, y/n. Don't you worry about the distance. I'm right there if you get lonely. Give this song another listen. Close your eyes. Listen to my voice, it's my disguise. I'm by your side." He sang under his gruff voice.

  "Oh, it's what you do to me. Oh, it's what you do to me. Oh, it's what you do to me. Oh, it's what you do to me. What you do to me." He led on with the catchy bridge.

  "Hey there, y/n. I know times are gettin' hard. But just believe me, girl. Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar. We'll have it good. We'll have the life we knew we would. My word is good." Bakugou carried on.

  "Hey there, y/n. I've got so much left to say. If every simple song I wrote to you. Would take your breath away. I'd write it all. Even more in love with me you'd fall. We'd have it all." He went on, after that singing the bridge again.

  "A thousand miles seems pretty far. But they've got planes and trains and cars. I'd walk to you if I had no other way. Our friends would all make fun of us. And we'll just laugh along because we'd know. That none of them have felt this way. Y/n, I can promise you. That by the time that we get through. The world will never ever be the same. And you're to blame." He sang emotionally while strumming along.

  "Hey there, y/n. You be good, and don't you miss me. Two more years and you'll be done with school. And I'll be makin' history like I do. You know it's all because of you. We can do whatever we want to. Hey there, y/n, here's to you. This one's for you." After this he slowly ended the lovely song with the bridge,

  "Oh, it's what you do to me. Oh, it's what you do to me. Oh, it's what you do to me. Oh, it's what you do to me. What you do to me, oh oh, woah, woah. Oh woah, oh. Oh." He sang softly, ending the song by strumming all of the strings on his beat up guitar.

  After he had finished the sweet tune someone came up to him.

  "Hey kid, that song you played was actually pretty good. The lyrics and rhythm were amazingly catchy. No one can ever go wrong with a classic love song. Maybe I can help you get big. I know some people in the industry. I came here to find some new musicians, actually." The mysterious figure said to him.

  Bakugou was in shock. He knew people liked his music. But not to the point where somebody like this would notice him. Especially this song. It was just some overly cheesy love song.

  "Thanks." He said not knowing what to say. He was speechless.

  "Here, give me a call." He said while slipping his business card over to the blond.

  Of course later that night he couldn't help but call the guy. He had never heard anything like this from someone.

~

  Y/n was nearing the end of her trip. She was sitting in her Mother's car on the way to the bus station back to Boston. She couldn't help but over hear the radio.

  "Hey we have a new love song from this band called Sex Bob Omb. I thought it was pretty good, how about we give it a play." You couldn't believe what you just heard, so you immediately turned up the volume on the radio. You could hear that spiky blond's classic voice over the sound of a relaxed, acoustic guitar. It seemed very unlike the band to have a song like this, or even be on the radio.

  "Hey there y/n, what's it like in New York City? I'm a thousand miles away, but, girl, tonight you look so pretty. Yes you do." The song started out gently. You jumped at these lyrics. You thought you were dreaming. But you weren't...

  "Mom, I think this song is about me..." You said trying not to sound insane.

  "Sweetie, it's just some song on the radio I'm sure you're over thinking it." She said calmly.

  "No, Mom, I saw this band at the tavern a few weeks ago. The lead singer was talking to me at the bar." You denied her.

  "I'm sure it's just a coincidence." She said keeping her eye on the road.

  "Times Square can't shine as bright as you. I swear, it's true." You softened at these lyrics. The way he wrote them... It made you feel like you were the only girl in the world that mattered.

  "Hey there, y/n. Don't you worry about the distance. I'm right there if you get lonely. Give this song another listen. Close your eyes. Listen to my voice, it's my disguise. I'm by your side." You couldn't help but feel like he was actually by your side, like he stated. You wished he could sing this to you, with that guitar of his, while looking you in the eyes. You really were falling for some mysterious guy. You would have never thought you would fall for some rebellious band member... or someone that you barely even knew. Music had never moved you in a way like this, it was so connecting, yet unexpected.

  Finally, You had made it back to your campus. You rushed up to your dorm to see that schedule he gave you. You wanted to see him again. The lyrics of the song made you melt. It warmed your heart. Making you fall for the random blond even more. Thankfully, the band was booked pretty far ahead on the schedule.

  A few nights later you caught yourself back at L Street Tavern hoping to see them there. You were sure they wouldn't be there now that they had made it on the radio. But it didn't hurt to try and see if they would be there.

  Unexpectedly you heard the sweet voice of the girl scream,

  "WE ARE SEX BOB OMB!"

  You turned around and made eye contact with the blond. His face flourished red. You couldn't stop staring into his glistening crimson eyes.

  "Wait, it's y/n." He said walking over to you, stopping the other band members.

  "The girl you wrote the song about? I thought that was just a made up name." The red hair said furrowing his eyebrows.

  "You came..." He said looking into your love struck eyes.

I really wanted to make a story inspired by this song so I hope you liked it. :)

Please comment some more songs you would like me to write stories about.

Also yes I got the name Sex Bob Omb and the song they sang is from Scott Pilgrim vs. The World hehe. Also, L Street Tavern is a real bar in Boston!

[guigz1-coldwar]

'Next move' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

'Next move'

"I can say that....you're an very lucky girl, Yirina Grigoriev !"

Chapter Summary : After the unexpected rescue mission of the recon team, Yirina and the team could finally have some rest before starting to planify the next moves against Naga.....

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +3200

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In all the odds of the world, no one was going to tell me that the first day I will spent in Laos was going to be me and the others having to rescue an recon team constitued of Song, Mason, Sims & an woman called Rivas in emergency and literally no one thought that I will have to be the co-pilot of an Huey and then, its pilot on the way back. I don't know how I was able to know in an few seconds how to fly an helicopter in my life, maybe my fake memories did help me....or I've got an uncovered real memory about it, I can't tell.

I can say that my skills on piloting an helicopter did surprise Woods & also Park as I talked about her of my flashs of my 'old times in Vietnam' and to be honest, I think that she wasn't believing at first that I was really going to take the commands of an american helicopter, trying to evade an Perseus-affiliated Hind above the Laotian jungle. Thanksfully, Wolf managed to destroy the Hind with his so-called 'Death Machine', an minigun and thanks to that move, we were finally in safety and good to go to return to base.

On the way back, I wasn't speaking so much in the entire group that was chatting about what they did while Woods were giving indications of where to go and to check the controls for me like I did on the first flight. Park was also silent in the group, also in her thoughts and then after minutes of flying, we finally arrived back at base where I could land the Huey without too much damaging it, thinking that I would mess that up but none of it happened when the helicopter skids got on the ground.

"Well done, Yirina." Woods congratulated me once the helicopter's engine was shut down, stopping the loud noises we've been hearing since we got away from here. We did also cut off the music before arriving here too. "Didn't know that you got flying in your blood."

"Me neither." I breathed, removing my headset off my head, amazed by myself to be honest. "it was good but I don't think I will do this again for an long time."

"As you wish." Woods told me as he make some friendly tap on my shoulders before he looked behind him, his eyes on everyone. "Okay, we're going to patch you up, you're taking some rest and then, we'll make an briefing." He suggested and everyone nodded.

"Let's get out of that helicopter." Wolf exclaimed as he was helping Sims to get out while the others were also moving from the chopper but me, I stayed in the cockpit, the headset in my hands and looking at the group, leaving the helipad.

"Yiri." I was surprised when I heard that Park was still in the Huey with me in the transport bay. "How do you feel ?" She asked me, seeing me happy but confused at the same time.

"To start, I'm surprised that I managed to fly that thing and I wonder how I did this." I expressed, still looking away until I feel her hand on my shoulder, causing me to look at her.

"You were great !" She affirmed again to me, moving to get closer to my seat. "It's seems that you're an woman with many talents." She added, getting her both hands on my shoulders.

"Well, I can say that." I said, not wanting to brag myself about that talent I just discovered about me. "It's not everyday that I'm piloting an Huey above the jungle." I sniffed, looking away for an few seconds. "I guess that 'Bell' is maybe proud about it." I continued, trying to laugh about it but I couldn't.

"I'm proud of you." She moved her arms around my shoulders, getting her head on it. "I'm still sorry to have obliged you to be Woods's co-pilot." She apologized again for that but now, it was okay.

"It's fine." I whispered, putting away the headset to get my hands on her arms. "Next time, you're the one flying that thing !" I scoffed as I thought about it during the way back as an little lovely revenge and the only thing she did was to kiss me on the cheek.

"You didn't see me fly then." She stated, making me look at her eyes, thinking at first that she was lying. "What ? We learned how to fly too in the MI6." She exclaimed to me, realizing that she wasn't lying at all to me.

"I'm curious to see that." I mumbled before I decide to kiss her, this time, on the lips. "What's the biggest helicopter you used to fly with ? Tell me !" I demanded, holding her hands in mine, feeling her touch on my skin.

"I flied an Hind !" She replied and my eyes went wide again. "We had an mission in 1980 in Afghanistan with Garrett, Greta....and also Stone & Megan." She added, taking an breath. "To say that I flied it with Stone as the man who controlled the guns..." She thought.

"I would have been very curious to see that." I offered an grin, knowing that talking Stone was not an good idea even if he was now lying dead somewhere in the world. "Well, to see you fly an Hind." I corrected myself to that and that put an smile on her face.

"If someday, we had no choices but to use one, I'm the one taking the commands." She proposed and I know that she would be great so I nodded.

"Excuse me ?" We were both surprised when we heard Woods knocking loudly at the pilot's door and also coughing in purpose to get our attention.

"What do you want ?" I asked him in an semi-serious voice.

"Well, I preferred to see you back at your desk instead of staying in that helicopter." He responded, putting his hands on his waist.

"Come on, Woods, we're just having an discussion." Park protested, sounding in an flirty voice that wasn't appropriated right now with Woods.

"Yeah but I don't want to have you start to do your things in that." He told her back, finally opening my door by itself. "Don't forget my warning though."

"You maybe need to....chill out, Woods." I suggested to him and his only moves was to narrow his eyes to me, looking almost deadly and wanting to put his hands on my neck. "You know, we were in an discreet place, away from the others." I gestured at him as me & Park finally decide to get out.

"I know but an Huey isn't very discreet while it's in the middle of an CIA base." He admitted, making us take an look around. "So, get yourselves back in the hangar to have some rest before someone like Hudson found you two in an akward position." He scoffed at the end of his words,  laughing a little while me & Park rolled our eyes around.

"As you wish, Woods." I expressed, using his same words that he used moments earlier before we walk away towards the hangar.

We came back to our desk inside, stripping ourselves from the equipment that we used....well, I didn't use my pistol or even my MP5 in combat because I had to fly an helicopter in an combat zone, meaning that I was the only one who didn't fire an single bullet. To be honest, that allowed me to keep my equipment in perfect shape and still having enough mags without asking Park for others and now, we were awaiting.

We had to wait for the other to get healed up as apparently, they were out of the base for two days straight for an big recon mission that Hudson ordered and hopefully, Song, Mason, Sims & Rivas weren't wounded too badly, having only some scratches on their arms or faces but nothing too badly for them. However, that wasn't the same thing for the other part of the recon team, having reported an lot of wounded and killed in action, including the pilot and the co-pilot of their team.

From their mission, they managed to get their hands on some intels about Naga but Woods preferred that everyone was up and good to be back on action to make an proper briefing and for that, we had to wait at the beginning of the evening, that's meaning the whole day until everyone were finally able to assist the briefing, fully operational.

"Everyone." Woods called everyone near an dashboard, meaning the beginning of the awaited briefing, we all took an seat on chairs that was put there. "Rivas, you might want to make the topo on the intels you found." He demanded to her, that wasn't seated.

"Good." She nodded to him as she was moving next to him. "For 2 days, we managed to discover some outpost Naga is using for his activities."

"And what is he doing ?" Garrett asked her.

"Naga is the supervisor of Nova-6 supply lines around the Golden Triangle." Mason replied to him, getting up to join Rivas & Woods as he was also there. "These outposts are used by Naga to make sure the supply lines are still there." He added.

"So, Stitch is still in producing his nerve gas." I spoke up as I didn't heard about it since last month....since that disaster in that mall in New Jersey. "If he's asking Naga to supervise his supply lines here, that means he's preparing something big." I suggested.

"And with Adler in his hands, it's sure that this 'something big' is really big." Sims stated, taking back my words on the subject. "We don't know what's Stitch planning with Adler but it's sure that he's really bad for us."

"Do you think he could kill him ?" Song questioned Sims about it.

"The two is having an hatred for each other but Stitch is maybe willing to make Adler suffer like he did to him years ago." Sims answered to her question, crossing his arms. "But we can finally advance now." He gestured to Mason.

"We finally found where's Naga main HQ is in the jungle." Mason said, pointing his hand towards an map that they got during their mission.

"I guess it isn't going to be easy." Park stated, looking at the map.

"You're right." Rivas nodded to her.

"We found intels that Naga's HQ is surrounded by AA guns, meaning that any incursions in chopper are impossible." Song stepped in to get next to Mason & Rivas, watched by Garrett with an smile. "The thing is the camp is very far from here and we had to use an chopper."

"So, we took an Huey and we land on an safe place to continue our travelling by walk." Park guessed right about it as Mason nodded.

"We can do that but we don't have any intels about what we could find on our way." Rivas told to us, looking at the map that was incomplete at some parts.

"May I propose something ?" Garrett raised his hand towards her. "As we have some Hueys that are from the Laotian Air Force, maybe two people with an pilot can make an recon in the skies without getting too close of Naga's HQ." He proposed and everyone start to think about his idea.

"That could work, who volunteers ?" Woods questioned everyone and no one was volunteering.

"Well, since it's my idea, I have to do this." Garrett breathed before I suddenly raise my hand.

"I'm with him." I told everyone with Park's surprised reaction on me before she nodded in approval even if she know that the two of us will be separated for an while.

"Good, I also thinking that I could go with an team in advance to try to secure the landing zone." Rivas suggested and to say, it was also an good idea : having two people in the skies, securing the way for the team on the ground while she took an team to make an advanced recon before we arrive.

"And when you will be leaving ?" Wolf demanded.

"As the place is far by walk, I will be leaving tonight." She answered to him, hands on her waist before she look at Woods who agreed.

"Take the men that aren't wounded with you." He ordered to her as he took an deep breath. "Well, I think that we will do this tomorrow, everyone can have an break." He added as we could finally got up from our respectives seats.

"Woods ! Mason !" An loud voice came inside the hangar, revealing Hudson himself, arriving with an satellite phone in hand.

"What do you want ?" Woods asked in an lazy voice.

"We have to talk....it's personal." Hudson replied to him and by the tone of his voice, it was really personal. "Got an call from home." He added as Mason & Woods look at each other in confusion.

"We're following you." Mason whispered before the two move away from the dashboard, following Hudson to an isolated place away from everyone who still got our eyes on the three.

"Shit, if Hudson talk like that, it's...strange to say." Sims said, an bit confused about the situation. "Anyway, I think that's not our business."

"Don't we have an drink to celebrate ?" Garrett recalled about the words from Park after the end of the rescue mission.

"Oh yes !" Wolf exclaimed as he moved to get to his desk, getting in his hands an bottle. "Who wants some Bourbon ?" He questioned but we didn't have to speak that we moved to his desk, ready to have an little celebration.

I should have thought that Wolf has bring some of his Bourbon in Laos with him and seeing that bottle in his hands showed that he was really loving it. He prepared some glasses for everyone and we all cheered to that little rescue mission we did today and our next move for tomorrow. Of course, we all took only one drink as we wouldn't want to be totally drunk on the field and after taking an sip of that drink that I missed for an month, we make an little talk about ourselves and like always, I let the others talk.

Even if some people around knows of my state and what happened to me, no one wanted to bring the subject on the table, thinking that it was an bad idea to talk about it. Instead, they talked about their lifes, how Garrett met Song on an mission in 1983 in Seoul, how Wolf got enlisted in the Delta Force for his 18th birthday and how Sims actually met Russell Adler during the Vietnam War.

Rivas also told us about her backstory, fighting against the Menendez Cartel in Nicaragua for an large part of her life and I was really impressed by it, discovering more the woman that I just met hour earlier, that story....it was nice but also sad to learn about. We did spent an good time, listening to each others story.

"Yirina, Park !" Woods finally arrived one hour after we began our little celebration party but he was sounding low and...kinda troubled, not exactly in the same mood of everyone.

"Yes ?" We both said in unison with Park.

"We...well, we need to talk...in private." He responded, still sounding troubled, there were something wrong in his voice. "Not here, outside."

"Something's wrong ?" Park asked.

"Just...follow me, okay ?" Woods told us as he start to leave and in an second, we slowly got up from our chairs to follow him outside the hangar, wondering what he would say to us. We then stopped in an hidden place, out of sight from everyone.

"Woods, what's the problem ?" I finally demanded, worried about him.

"I know that it's maybe not your business but Mason wanted me to tell you about this." He said in an low voice, his hands on his wait and looking sad. "Mason received bad news from home."

"Bad news ?" Park whispered and we start to fear the worst.

"We just learned that....his wife died." He said, his voice cracking by the emotions to talk about this. "She had an brain tumor and it was incurable." He added to us, making us shocked to hear that from him and feeling so sad about learning about it.

"An brain tumor ?" I repeated, my voice sounding very low.

"Yeah, she's been fighting it for months with Alex's help but...him been forced to leave to get back on the fight, it didn't help at all." He stated, passing his hands through his face. "Now, his son, David is alone."

"What will happen now ?" Park questioned him.

"Hudson is sending him home, Mason already packed up his things discreetly...it was better for him." Woods was like on the verge of not crying and he was struggling to not cry in front of us. "He wanted you both to know about it even if it was not your problem, David need his dad while his uncle is leading an group to save an CIA agent." He said, revealing that he was the uncle of Mason's kid.

"I....I...I think it was an good choice from him." I thought as Park slowly nodded, approving my words.

"It's better for him to get back to his son." Park added to my words, taking an deep breath.

"Yes, it's the only thing to do for him, Hudson wasn't going to let him here." Woods admitted to us. "Shit...to say that's my fault to have him come back." He continued.

"Woods..." I started, putting my hand on his shoulder. "You're not the one to blame, he thought that it was an good choice because he's your friend." I told him, not even sure of my words to recomfort him. "No one is to blame here." I added.

"I want to think of it but what's done is done." He whispered, joining his hands together. "Listen, this discussion is staying between us, if the other ask, don't tell anything about it." We nodded to his order, it was very important and we couldn't talk freely about it.

"Don't worry, Woods, we will not tell anything." Park affirmed to him as she made an very little grin to him.

"Good, I'm might need to take some rest before tomorrow." He snorted before taking an breath. "Take some rest too." He added before he start to walk away slowly from us to get back inside the hangar while me & Park were completely frozed in place.

"Damnit, I never thought...." I started to say before I stop myself, losing my words and then, I sit on the ground, crossing my legs. "Fuck...."

"You couldn't know, Yirina." Park said in an low voice, sitting in the same position as me in front of me. "I'm like you right now : shocked and sad about it." She breathed, meaning her words by seeing her look and voice. "Mason wants to live an normal life, away from what happened to him and I'm sure that you want too."

"I just want to able to live free and away from all of this and for that, I need you !" I told her, looking at her with eyes that was slowly filled with tears before Park slowly moved her hand towards my cheek.....

"And I know well that you're always there for me !"