#the first albums were like oh I'm so lonely and this one is like wait but WHY are you lonely

[oliviasoddessey]

No bc Dream Girl Evil coming right after Girls Against God is so. There's an artifice to DGE and maybe I'm just not used to Florence Being Sexy (as opposed to Being Horny, which is what Bedroom Hymns was, and was another thing entirely) and it's also 90% just my state of mind rn but DGE coming straight after the song which opens with "What a thing to admit that when someone looks at me with real love I don't like it very much it kind of makes me feel like I'm being crushed", going from "crying into cereal at midnight" to "walk on water just to kiss me"... it's SUCH a shift and it feels like the personification of the seesaw ego of the artist or that thing where you're simultaneously a mess and the sexiest woman alive, and after "a golden heart or a golden voice", DGE feels like putting up this sexy, unattainable persona so that no one will get close enough to you to create the claustrophobia to "real love". It's like she's saying "you thought I was nice? FUCK YOU I'm evil and I'm not perfect like you thought I was" to a person who just wants to go on a second date. This is just my current state of mind talking now, but that song being where it is adds this layer of accusing someone of idealising you when they actually have a very accurate idea of your beauty and your flaws, but you just find it so difficult to believe anyone could ever really love you if they knew what a bad person you were. It's Florence (or the speaker, really) dragging out this "don't come crying/I am nobody's moral centre" in response to nobody morally centring you, it's creating a femme fatale of herself just so that she can slip away into the night and tell herself that they femme fatale'd her so it was never going to work out anyway. You know? Sometimes a super sexy persona has nothing to do with getting laid and everything to do with everyone looking at you while being too intimidated to actually talk to you which saves you having to talk to them.

[03jyh23]

🌏⌇atlas┆song mingi

│part of goes to waste the series based on my favourite keshi songs

│listen here

rapper!mingi x non-celebrity!reader

│synopsis: in the heart of bustling seoul, you and mingi shared a luxurious penthouse apartment. despite the grandeur, loneliness consumed you as mingi's skyrocketing fame distanced him from the loving boyfriend you once knew.

│genre: lovers to strangers, angst

│trigger warnings:  heartbreak (obviously), mature language, mention of past trauma and pain

│words: 8.9 k

│playlist: empty box an album by song mingi, tracklist: after hours, too late, killing me (english), wait, paranoid, drunk, lonely heart, empty box (english)

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! finally, here's the next part of goes to waste series. i had to take some time off after publishing 2soon (check it if you haven't yet), which was a truly personal piece, but now i'm back! atlas is very loosely inspired by the song; it's more about the vibe the song gave me than the actual lyrics. i also changed the original synopsis quite a bit because i honestly didn't feel like sticking with the first version. same as with 2soon, i spent some time creating a playlist, and if you do decide to listen, i hope you enjoy the songs i've chosen. oh! and if you read through my small author notes, then you're lucky because i can finally reveal that both the reaper (jongho) and right here (yeosang) will be published as a mini-series (but only after finishing finding our way back)!

love, monika ♡

i’d be so grateful for a little love – a tagged reblog or comment would truly make my day!

│taglist: @skittyneos │@kyeos4ng │ @vcutparis │@hoeforalbedo

You were sitting on a bed in the bedroom you shared with Mingi in your very own luxurious penthouse apartment in the bustling center of Seoul. It hasn't been long since you moved in here, but the vastness and elegance of the place made you feel even lonelier than ever. Mingi was out, performing at a sold-out arena show, and the glaring reality was that you weren't there to support him. It wasn't that you didn't want to attend; the painful truth was that he simply forgot to invite you—his girlfriend of the last 4 years, someone who had stood by his side through thick and thin. You looked at the floor, your eyes catching the sight of your suitcases and bags packed meticulously with your belongings, ready to move out of this once cherished home. The thing was, you couldn't quite leave without seeing Mingi one last time. Your heart ached at the thought of parting without a final goodbye, and it didn't let you go. You didn't know life without Mingi, and the prospect left you shit scared. The very thought of navigating through your days without his presence was enough to send shivers down your spine. However, you couldn't pretend any longer that Mingi hasn't changed. The boy you once fell in love with, who was caring, attentive, and always made you feel like the center of his universe, seemed to have vanished. In his place was someone distant, preoccupied, and seemingly indifferent to your feelings. You tried to rationalize his behavior, blaming it on the stress of his career and the constant pressure he was under, but deep down, you knew it was more than that. The connection you once shared felt like a distant memory, and the reality of who he had become was impossible to ignore. 

It all started not even a year ago. Mingi's song went viral on the internet, and he gained a massive following in a span of three days. From being an independent artist playing in clubs for maybe a couple of hundred fans, he went straight to signing a contract with a major company, making huge checks and selling out arenas in a span of minutes. The transformation was almost surreal. One day, you were cheering him on from small, dimly lit venues where you could see the sweat on his brow and the fire in his eyes as he performed. The next, he was being whisked away to luxurious studios and high-profile meetings with industry moguls. It felt like you were living in a dream—or a nightmare, depending on the moment. Suddenly, the simplicity of your shared life was replaced by a whirlwind of glitz and glamour. Mingi's phone never stopped buzzing with calls, texts, and notifications. Invitations to exclusive parties, collaborations with big names, and interviews with top media outlets flooded in. While his career skyrocketed, your relationship seemed to plummet into an abyss of neglect and misunderstanding. As he became more entrenched in his new world, you noticed changes in him. The boy who once couldn't wait to spend a quiet night in, watching movies with you was now constantly on the go, his calendar filled with events that didn't include you. The intimate conversations you used to have, were replaced by strained, hurried phone calls and text messages that felt more like obligations than genuine connections. Despite your best efforts to be supportive and understanding, the growing distance between you became an insurmountable chasm. Mingi's success had come at a steep price, and it felt like you were the one paying for it. The man you had known and loved for years was slowly slipping away, replaced by someone who seemed more like a stranger with each passing day. 

The night was getting later, and there was still no sign of Mingi. Maybe he wasn't planning to come back today; maybe he was too busy with his new rapper friends to even care to come back. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment and frustration. You glanced at your phone, hoping for a message or a missed call, but there was nothing. Well, it wouldn't be the first time he had left you waiting, feeling like an afterthought in his increasingly busy life. You tried to occupy yourself, turning on the TV and flipping through channels, but nothing could distract you. The boy who once couldn't stand to be away from you was now someone who seemed to have forgotten you existed.  

With every passing minute, the reality of your situation became clearer. Mingi might not come back tonight, tomorrow, or even the day after that. He was out there, living his life, while you were stuck in a place that no longer felt like home. You still vividly remember your first day in this apartment; it was a momentous occasion. Mingi had received his significant check from the tour ticket sales, as well as the royalties, just a week passed since, and you were moving into the luxurious space. The excitement and anticipation were palpable as you both looked forward to starting this new chapter in your lives together. You left your one-bedroom apartment with a tingle of sadness, each corner filled with cherished memories of the life you had built together. However, the excitement and anticipation of creating a new home in a spacious, luxurious penthouse overshadowed any melancholy you felt. You both dreamed of this moment, envisioning a future filled with endless possibilities and new adventures. The thought of decorating the new place, hosting friends, and building new memories brought a sense of joy and hope. It was a new chapter, a fresh start, and despite the nostalgia for your old apartment, the promise of what lay ahead made the transition feel like the beginning of something wonderful. So, you never thought you would be leaving this place like this. Heartbroken. The walls that once echoed with laughter and joy now felt cold and distant. Every corner of the penthouse, which had been a symbol of Mingi’s dreams and aspirations, now seemed to mock your pain. The spacious rooms that once brought a sense of freedom now felt like a labyrinth of sorrow. You recalled the countless evenings spent planning your future together, the whispered promises of forever, and the dreams you had woven into the very fabric of this home. Now, those dreams lay shattered, scattered like fragile pieces of glass. The weight of your decision to leave pressed heavily on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. You never imagined that the place which once brought you so much happiness would be the same place you'd have to walk away from. 

You promised yourself you wouldn't wait longer than 3 AM, and as the hour approached, you picked up all your belongings and took them to the hallway. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of your decision sinking in deeper with every passing second. You glanced once again across the apartment, taking in the memories etched into every corner of the space that once felt like a loving home. With a heavy heart, you left your keys on the kitchen counter. As you put your shoes on, you paused for a moment, feeling the finality of your actions. You were ready to turn off the lights and walk out of the door, the silence of the apartment echoing your own sense of abandonment. Just as you reached for the switch, the doors opened with a soft creak that seemed to reverberate through the entire space. 

There stood Mingi, his face pale and eyes wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief, as if he had seen a ghost. His presence, so unexpected and surreal in that moment, made your heart skip a beat. The silence between you was deafening, filled with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. For a split second, neither of you moved, as if frozen in time. 

"What is going on?" he asked, his eyes finding your gaze as he swallowed hard. 

You took a deep breath, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I can't do this anymore," you replied, your voice trembling. 

His expression shifted from confusion to concern. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?" 

"I mean us, Mingi. I'm not even a part of your life anymore," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "I packed my bags. I'm leaving." 

Mingi's eyes widened in shock, and he took a step closer. "Leaving? No baby, you can't just leave." 

You shook your head, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on you. "I deserve more than this. I'm done. We're done," you said, almost out of breath, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. 

Mingi's face contorted with emotion, his eyes pleading as he reached out to you. "Please, let's talk about this," he said, desperation lacing his voice. 

You looked at him, your heart breaking all over again. "It's too late, Mingi," you responded, trying to keep your resolve strong even as tears streamed down your face. "I'm so sick of pretending everything's alright, that you haven't changed," you continued, your frustration bubbling to the surface. 

Mingi stepped closer, his hands reaching for yours, desperation evident in his voice. "What are you talking about? I'm still the same, I’m still your boyfriend who would do anything for you." 

You took a deep breath, your voice trembling as you confronted him. "Are you even aware my birthday was a week ago and you haven't showed up to the party?" 

Mingi's face fell, a look of guilt and realization washing over him. "I... I didn't know. I'm so sorry," he stammered, but the damage was already done. 

"So no, Mingi, you are not the same. My boyfriend would show up to my birthday party, hell he would organize it himself. And you know what you did that night? You were sitting in a fucking club with your fellow rappers doing God knows what," you spat, the pain in your words cutting through the air. "My boyfriend loved me, he wanted to spend time with me, he cherished me, he would never leave without kissing me and telling me he loves me," you said, your voice cracking. "You are not him." 

Mingi's shoulders slumped, the weight of his actions finally seeming to hit him. "I messed up. I know I did, and I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking. 

‘’Sorry is not enough,’ you took a deep breath, your eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sick and tired of justifying your shitty behavior in front of my parents, our friends, and most definitely myself. Every time they ask me where you are or why you're not around, I must come up with excuses. It's exhausting, and honestly, I'm tired of lying for you." 

Mingi's eyes filled with tears, his voice breaking as he whispered, "I never wanted to let you down. I know I've been distant, but I never stopped loving you." 

You shook your head, "You don’t love me, Mingi. Actions speak louder than words, and your actions have clearly shown me where I stand in your life. When was the last time you took me out, huh? When was the last time you asked me how I was doing? When was the last time you made love to me, not just fucked me after your show, huh?" you demanded, each question hitting him like a blow. 

Mingi's face crumpled as he absorbed your words. "I didn't realize... I thought you understood how busy I've been," he mumbled, his voice tinged with regret. 

"Busy? We all have busy lives. But love means making time, no matter what," you said, wiping away your tears. "I can't keep waiting for you to remember that." 

Mingi's tears began to flow freely, his voice barely a whisper. "Please, don't go. I promise I'll change, I'll make things right," he pleaded, but you could see the doubt in his eyes. 

"Since you went viral, you haven't even taken me to your shows, to the afterparties. I don't know your new friends. Do they know about me?" you asked, your voice rising with each word. Mingi's hesitation spoke volumes, and you felt another crack in your already shattered heart. "That's what I thought," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "If they don't know about me, then maybe you don't want them to. Maybe that's why it's easier for you to forget I exist." 

Mingi's eyes widened, realization dawning on him. "No, it's not like that," he tried to argue, but the conviction in his voice was gone. The silence between you grew heavier, filled with all the things left unsaid over the past months. 

"Tell me honestly, now. You're rapping about fucking bitches and maybe that's really what you're doing in those clubs, huh?" you spat, the accusation hanging heavily in the air. 

Mingi's face paled, his eyes wide with shock and hurt. "How could you even accuse me of that?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and pain. "I would never do something like that to you. You mean everything to me." he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a step closer, desperation in his eyes. "I swear, it's not what you think. Those lyrics, they're just part of the persona. They don't mean anything." 

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound echoing through the silent apartment. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? That it's all just an act? Because it doesn't. It just makes me feel like I don't even know who you are anymore," you retorted, your voice trembling with emotion. "You spend all your time with these people, living this life that I'm not a part of. How am I supposed to believe you when you say it's not real?" 

Mingi's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words pressing down on him. "I know I've made mistakes. I know I've been distant, but I never wanted to hurt you. I thought you understood how much pressure I'm under," he said, his voice cracking. 

"Being under pressure doesn't give you the right to treat me like I don't matter," you shot back, wiping away the tears from your rosy cheeks. "You used to make me feel like I was the most important person in the world. Now, I feel like I'm just another obligation, something you can push aside when it suits you." 

Mingi's eyes lit up with a sudden realization. "Please give me a moment, I know what will make you stay," he said, his voice filled with a newfound sense of urgency. Before you could respond, he turned and rushed towards the bedroom. You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you listened to the sounds of Mingi frantically ruffling through drawers and opening cabinets. The noise grew louder, punctuated by the occasional clatter of objects being moved aside. After what felt like an eternity, Mingi emerged from the bedroom, his face flushed and his breath heavy. Clutched tightly in his hand was a small, elegant box. He walked towards you, his eyes never leaving yours, and with shaking hands, he opened the box to reveal a stunning, custom-made Tiffany engagement ring. 

"This... this is what I was waiting for," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I wanted everything to be perfect before I asked you. I know I've messed up, but please, give me one more chance. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Tears welled up in his eyes as he held the ring out to you, his entire being pleading for forgiveness and another chance. You stared at the ring, the weight of the moment pressing down on you as you tried to process everything. Mingi took a deep breath and then, in one fluid motion, he dropped to one knee, holding the ring up towards you. His eyes were filled with desperation and hope, the tears streaming down his face reflecting the sincerity of his words. "Y/N please, marry me," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I know I've been distant, and I know I've hurt you, but I want to make it right. I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, showing you how much you mean to me. Please, give me another chance." You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked down at Mingi, the man you had loved for so long, now kneeling before you with a ring in his hand. The future you have always dreamed of was right there in front of you, and you cried harder at the sight. The ring, a symbol of the life you had envisioned together, glittered in the dim light of the penthouse. It was everything you had ever wanted, yet the weight of the disappointments and heartbreaks made it difficult to embrace. The tears streamed down your face, mixing with the raw emotions that had been building up inside you. You couldn't help but think of all the broken promises, the lonely nights, and the feeling of being forgotten. The ring was beautiful, but it couldn't erase the pain that had accumulated over time. 

Mingi kneeled there in front of you, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and desperation, waiting for your response."Now we have enough money to book the beach venue you dreamed of," Mingi started, trying to control his own tears. "I will order you a custom dress from the designer you told me about, inspired by the Disney princess you loved since you were little," he added, his voice trembling with desperation. "And we will go to Belize for our honeymoon," he continued, his words coming out in a rush. "We will rent a whole house by the beach, just like you always wanted. Every morning, we'll wake up to the sound of the waves, and every night, we'll fall asleep under the stars. There won't be a single day when I won't prove to you how much I love you," Mingi's voice cracked, his eyes pleading. "Please, give me another chance. Please marry me. I promise I'll be the man you fell in love with, the one who would move heaven and earth just to see you smile. We’ll make new memories, beautiful ones that will overshadow all the pain I’ve put you through. I swear, I'll spend every moment making it up to you, showing you that my love is real and unwavering. So please, please say yes." The image he painted was truly everything you ever wanted, the plans you made together on countless nights, dreaming of a future filled with love and happiness. The beach venue, the custom dress, the honeymoon in Belize—all of it was exactly what you had envisioned. It was as if he had taken every whispered wish, every secret hope, and turned them into a tangible reality. His words, filled with desperation and promise, tugged at your heartstrings, making you yearn for the life you had once believed was possible. The thought of waking up to the sound of waves, falling asleep under the stars, and creating new, beautiful memories was almost too tempting to resist. In that moment, you saw a glimpse of the life you had always wanted. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady your racing heart. The weight of the moment felt almost suffocating, but you knew you had to make a choice. When you opened your eyes again, you looked at Mingi, your voice barely above a whisper, 

"I can't," you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt like shards of glass slicing through the air. You saw the hope in Mingi's eyes flicker and fade, replaced by a look of utter devastation. His shoulders slumped as he dropped completely to the floor, the ring slipping from his grasp and falling to the floor with a loud echo. You heard him cry out in agony, and it broke your heart all over again, shattering it completely. For a moment, the silence was deafening, filled only with the sound of your ragged breaths and Mingi's soft sobs. You stood there, frozen, the weight of your decision pressing down on you like a physical force. Every fiber of your being wanted to rush to him, to take back the words and make everything alright, but you knew deep down that it was too late. 

Mingi's tears flowed freely now, his face a portrait of anguish. "Please, don't go," he pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. "I need you. I don't know what I'll do without you." 

"I'm so sorry, Mingi," you said, your voice trembling as you took a step back. "I wish things could be different, but I can't keep living like this." 

Mingi looked up at you, his eyes red and swollen with tears. "Please, don't leave me," he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. "I can't lose you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear." 

You shook your head, "It's not about what you can do, Mingi. It's about what you haven't done." With a heavy heart, you turned towards the door, picking up your bags. Each step felt like a thousand, the weight of your decision making it almost unbearable to move. As you reached the door, you paused, looking back at Mingi one last time. The sight of him, broken and pleading, was almost too much to bear. "Goodbye, Mingi," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I hope you come across something more than better, something that brings you true happiness and fulfillment. And I’m so sorry it’s not me." With those final words, you turned the knob and stepped out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind you. The echo of the door click reverberated through the empty penthouse, a stark reminder of what you were leaving behind. 

eight months later

It was a Saturday evening, and you were lying in your bed, scrolling through TV channels because apparently your best friend forgot to pay for your Netflix subscription. These past months, you were figuring your life out from the base. With your breakup, everything changed. You were now living in a small apartment, shared with two of your friends to make the rent cheaper. You hadn't saved up much while being with Mingi, mainly taking part-time jobs to be available whenever Mingi needed your help with his career—booking a venue, simply helping around with scanning tickets or delivering merch. You used to spend your days running errands and managing small tasks that kept his career afloat, and in return, he assured you that you didn't need to worry about your own income. Then, when the money came, he simply wouldn’t let you work, claiming what was his was yours, and he had more than enough. His generosity was comforting, but it also left you unprepared for the financial independence you now had to face. So apart from dealing with the heartbreak, you’ve also been struggling a bit with a reality without him. 

Now, as you lay in your small bedroom, you couldn't help but reflect on how drastically your life had shifted. The luxurious apartment you once shared with Mingi was now a distant memory, replaced by this compact space that you now called home. It was filled with laughter and companionship from your two friends, but it also served as a constant reminder of Mingi’s absence. 

The breakup had not only shattered your heart but also forced you to reevaluate your priorities and rebuild your life from scratch. Every day was a struggle to find your footing, to rediscover who you were without Mingi, and to carve out a path for yourself. Despite the challenges, you were slowly learning to embrace this new reality, one step at a time. 

After a long search, you finally stumbled upon a music award show where a band you liked was performing, and you found yourself intrigued. A few other performances passed; the MC announced they would reveal the winner for the Album of the Year in the rap category. Despite trying to ignore all updates about Mingi, you knew he had released a new album earlier this year, so seeing him being nominated didn’t surprise you. You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions as his name was mentioned. You saw him through your TV screen, his hair now cut short and dyed a vibrant pink, a stark contrast to his previous look. His nose was pierced, and you must admit it made him look even hotter. He was wearing a sleek black blazer with nothing underneath, the simplicity of his outfit highlighting his confidence. He looked absolutely gorgeous, his features as handsome as ever, capturing your attention completely. You couldn’t help but smile, a wave of nostalgia and admiration washing over you. Your heart began to beat faster with the excitement and joy of seeing him again. 

And of course, Mingi won. You didn’t know exactly why, but you couldn’t help yourself—you clapped your hands enthusiastically. You were so incredibly proud of him and his achievement. With a wide smile on his face, he stood up from his seat, took a deep breath, and confidently hopped on stage. He walked over to the microphone, adjusted it to his height, and paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Thank you, everyone," Mingi began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "This album means the world to me, and it wouldn't have been possible without the incredible team behind me and the fans who have supported me through everything." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I want to dedicate this award to someone very special to me, someone who was with me since my early days." Mingi's words hung in the air, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You knew he was talking about you. The memories of your time together, the sacrifices you made, and the dreams you shared all came rushing back. Despite the pain and heartbreak, a part of you was deeply touched by his acknowledgment. He continued, "I know I've made mistakes, and I've hurt the only person I have ever loved. But this album represents a journey of growth and redemption. It's about learning from those mistakes and becoming a better person." The audience applauded, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in the whirlwind of emotions Mingi's speech had stirred within you. You couldn't help but wonder if he truly had changed, if he had finally realized the impact of his actions. As the applause died down, Mingi took a step back, holding the award close to his chest. He looked directly into the camera, his eyes seemingly searching for yours through the screen. "You know," Mingi continues, "this special person told me that since I gained popularity, I’ve been only rapping about fucking bitches, and she hated that." Mingi smiled and looked at the award in his hands. "So, with this album, I came back to my roots, to lyrics that truly mattered and reflect who I am." As the applause echoed around him, Mingi took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words and the emotions they carried. He remembered the countless nights he spent writing, the struggles he faced, and the moments of doubt. "I don’t know where she’s at now, what she’s doing," he paused, running a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with regret "I wanted to be a man and respect her decision to leave me, so I never reached out." His voice cracked, the weight of his words sinking in "Because the truth is she deserves way better than me." He swallowed hard, his eyes glistening with unshed tears "I don’t even know if this will reach her, but if it does, I just want her to know that I still, very much love her." A tear finally escaped, rolling down his cheek "And that life without her is shit." He took a deep breath, his voice barely a whisper. He glanced around, seeing familiar faces of fellow artists and friends who knew his story then he looked straight at the camera. "So, to my ex, to the one I prayed to end up with, thank you for breaking my heart. This one is for you." He raised his award and bowed. As he left the stage, you couldn't help but feel a surge of mixed emotions. The love you once shared was still there, buried beneath the pain and heartbreak, but his words made you wonder if there might still be a chance for redemption and healing. You sat there, stunned and overwhelmed, tears streaming down your face. The raw emotion in Mingi's speech had reopened old wounds, but it also made you question if there was a possibility for a new beginning. 

Too caught up in your thoughts, you didn't notice when the cameras started to broadcast live from backstage. An elegant reporter, dressed in a chic green dress, stood waiting with a microphone in hand. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as she spotted Mingi approaching, clutching his award tightly. She greeted him with a warm smile and a nod, gesturing for him to join her on a plush, cream-colored couch set up for the interview. As Mingi took his seat next to her, the reporter's smile widened. "Congratulations, Mingi, on your incredible win tonight!" she began, her voice smooth and professional. "How does it feel to take home the Album of the Year award?" 

Mingi took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. "It feels surreal," he admitted, his voice slightly hoarse from the whirlwind of emotions he had experienced on stage. "This album was a labor of love and a journey of self-discovery. Winning this award means the world to me." 

The reporter nodded; her expression empathetic. "You've mentioned that this album, Empty Box, holds a lot of personal significance. Can you tell us more about the inspiration behind it?" 

"The title of the album, Empty Box, symbolizes a metaphorical space where I have placed all the love I couldn’t give, oh god I hate to call her that but, to my ex-girlfriend." Mingi's eyes welled up with tears, and he swallowed hard. "It encompasses not just the love, but also our unfulfilled dreams, the cherished memories we created together, and the mistakes we made along the way." He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts, his emotions visibly overwhelming him. This album reflects my journey, regrets, and lessons I've learned. Each song is a chapter of that story, a piece of my heart that I hope resonates with those who listen." He took a deep breath, his voice cracking as he continued, "I wanted to create something that speaks to the pain of losing someone you love, the guilt of not being able to give them what they deserve, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, we can all find a way to heal from our past mistakes." Mingi's eyes were filled with a mix of sorrow and determination as he spoke, his words carrying the weight of his emotions. He looked directly into the camera, his eyes searching for a connection with those who might be watching. "To anyone out there who feels like they've messed up, like they've lost their way, I want you to know that you're not alone. We all make mistakes, we all have regrets, but that doesn't mean we can't find a way to move forward. This album is my way of reaching out, of saying that it's okay to feel broken, it's okay to struggle, but it's also okay to hope for a better tomorrow." 

The reporter nodded, her eyes reflecting the depth of Mingi's words. "Thank you for sharing such a personal journey with us, Mingi. Your honesty and vulnerability are truly inspiring." She paused for a moment, letting his words resonate with the audience. "What's next for you? Are there any upcoming projects or plans you'd like to share?" 

Mingi took a deep breath, a small smile breaking through his tear-streaked face. "Right now, I just want to take some time to reflect and reconnect with myself. But I promise, there's more music to come, and I hope to continue growing both as an artist and as a person." 

The reporter's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she leaned in slightly. "Is this album some type of closure for you? Are you ready to go out there and find love again? I bet there's plenty of girls, or guys who would die to have a chance with you." 

Mingi took a moment to reflect, his eyes distant. "In many ways, this album has been therapeutic for me. It's allowed me to process my emotions and come to terms with my past. As for finding love again, I think it's important for me to focus on healing and personal growth first. Love is a beautiful thing, but it requires a strong foundation." 

The reporter nodded, her smile warm and understanding. "Thank you for your honesty, Mingi. Your journey is truly inspiring, and I'm sure your fans appreciate your openness." 

Mingi smiled back, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Thank you. I'm grateful for the support." With that, the interview concluded, and Mingi stood up, shaking the reporter's hand before walking away. As the camera panned out, you turned off the TV, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. And you knew you needed to see him again. You've been staying strong since you left him, but now, the wall crashed down and you couldn't stop your racing heart, you couldn't prioritize your mind screaming at you not to do it. The memories of your time together flooded back with an overwhelming force, each one more vivid than the last. The late-night conversations, the shared dreams, the laughter, and even the fights—they all played in your mind like an old movie reel. Despite the pain and the heartbreak, you couldn't deny the love you still felt for him, a love that had been buried but never truly extinguished. Your emotions were a tangled mess, a mix of longing, fear, hope, and regret. You thought about the life you once envisioned with him, the future that seemed so bright and full of promise. Would it still be possible? Could you find a way to rebuild what was broken, to heal the wounds that had festered for so long? As you sat there, your heart pounding in your chest, you knew that you couldn't ignore these feelings. It was as if something was pushing you towards him, giving you a nudge to take a step towards reconciliation. The thought of seeing him again both terrified and excited you, but you knew that you had to follow your heart. With trembling hands, you picked up your phone and stared at the screen, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts. Should you call him? Text him? Show up at his door? You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and made your decision. You were going to see him. 

You run to your closet, your heart racing with anticipation and anxiety. You put on a hoodie as the autumn air was getting colder, layered a denim jacket on top for extra warmth, and decided to go. Living on the opposite side of the city now, getting to Mingi's place would take more than an hour, but you didn't mind the long journey. As you left your room, one of your roommates looked at you, her eyes filled with curiosity. 

"So, I guess you heard the speech?" she asked, a knowing smile playing on her lips. You could feel the pride welling up inside you, making you even more determined to reach Mingi and share your feelings with him. 

"Yeah, I did," you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. "I need to see him." 

"Honey, I know you want to, but don't forget why you left him in the first place," she said gently, her eyes filled with concern. "You were heartbroken and exhausted. It took so much strength for you to walk away and start rebuilding your life." She paused, her expression softening. "I understand that his speech stirred up a lot of emotions, but please, think carefully about this. Remember all the nights you cried yourself to sleep, all the broken promises. Just don't lose sight of why you made the decision to leave. You deserve to be happy and to find someone who truly values and respects you." 

You nodded, taking her words to heart. "I know, and I won't forget. But I need to know if things can be different now. It's just, I am so proud of him, and I just wish he knew that" you whispered to your roommate, your voice filled with a mix of hope and determination. Your roommate, who had been silently listening, came closer, her eyes reflecting concern and empathy. "I know we've been through so much, and the pain was unbearable at times. But seeing him up there, pouring his heart out, made me realize that a part of me still cares deeply for him. I can't ignore these feelings. I spent so many nights crying myself to sleep, feeling hurt and abandoned, but maybe he's changed. Maybe he's truly learned from his mistakes. I need to see for myself if there's a chance for us to rebuild what we once had, to heal together and find a way back to each other." 

Your friend reached out, gently squeezing your hand, her touch offering a silent reassurance. Her eyes softened as she spoke, "I understand why you feel this way. It's not easy to let go of someone you love, especially when there's still a part of you that believes in him. But you need to be sure that he's really changed, that he's willing to put in the effort to make things right this time." 

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I just wish he understood that despite everything, I don't hold any grudges. I want him to know that I forgive him and that I'm willing to give him another chance if he's ready to make things right." Your voice trembled slightly, the weight of your emotions making it difficult to speak. 

Your roommate gave you a warm, encouraging smile. "You have a big heart, and it's clear that you still care about him deeply. Just make sure you protect yourself too. If he's really changed, he'll show you through his actions, not just words. Take it one step at a time and trust your instincts. You deserve to be happy, and if giving him another chance feels right to you, then follow your heart." Her words offered a sense of comfort and clarity, helping to ease the turmoil inside you. You took a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of hope. 

"Thank you," you said, your voice filled with gratitude. "I need to do this for myself, to know if there's still a chance for us." With that, you hugged your best friend and stepped out into the autumn night. 

The journey to Mingi's place felt like an eternity, each passing moment filled with a mixture of anticipation and fear. As the bus drew closer to his building, you couldn't help but feel a surge of doubt. What if this was a mistake? What if you were setting yourself up for more heartache? But the memory of Mingi's heartfelt speech and the love you still felt for him pushed you forward. 

When you finally arrived, you stood outside his door, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. With a trembling hand, you knocked, the sound echoing through the hallway. To your surprise, the door is opened by an elderly man, dressed in an elegant suit. His eyes widen in surprise as he sees you standing there. "Good evening, sir," you say hesitantly, trying to mask your confusion. "I’m sorry for the late visit but I'm here to see Mingi. Is he already back?" The man's expression shifts from surprise to bewilderment. 

"I'm sorry," he replies, his voice carrying a hint of confusion. "But I believe you have the wrong address. Nobody by the name of Mingi lives here." He looks at you sympathetically, as if trying to help you figure out your mistake. 

Your heart sank, and you felt a wave of confusion wash over you. "But this was his address," you murmured, feeling lost. 

The elderly man gave you a kind smile, "I moved in here few months ago, maybe he was a previous owner of this apartment?" 

Your heart sank even further as you realized that Mingi had moved. "Thank you," you said softly, turning away from the door, feeling a mix of disappointment and confusion. As you walked back to the bus stop, the doubt began to creep in again. Maybe meeting with him would be a mistake? The universe seemed to be throwing obstacles in your path, as if trying to tell you something. Perhaps it was a sign that some things are better left in the past, that moving forward meant leaving certain chapters closed. You couldn't help but think about all the reasons you left in the first place, the pain and the heartbreak that led you to this very moment. Was it worth reopening old wounds for a chance that things might be different? As you boarded the bus, you decided to give it one last shot, you took your phone out. You scrolled through your contacts and found Mingi's number, your finger hovering over the call button. Taking a deep breath, you pressed it and held the phone to your ear, your heart pounding as it began to ring. After a few moments, you heard a familiar message on the other end, "The number you have dialed no longer exists." 

The automated message echoed in your ear, a stark reminder of the distance that now separated you from Mingi. You pulled the phone away, staring at the screen in disbelief. How could it be? You had been so certain that reaching out to him was the right thing to do, but now, it felt like the universe was conspiring against you. You tried calling again, but the same message played, confirming that Mingi's number had indeed been disconnected. A sense of finality washed over you, making the reality of the situation sink in even deeper. It felt as if a door had been firmly closed, leaving you standing on the outside, unable to reach the person you once held so dear. As you sat back on the bus, the city lights blurring past the window, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Disappointment, sadness, and a lingering sense of what could have been. The memories of your time together replayed in your mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love you had lost. Deep down, you knew that this might be the universe's way of telling you to let go, to move forward with your life. With a heavy heart, you put your phone away and leaned back in your seat, taking a deep breath. As the bus continued its route, you gazed out at the city, the lights flickering like distant stars.  

six months later

You just started your shift; the day was going to be long and tiring. With holidays fast approaching, people were buzzing to buy new goods. You were working as a manager in one of the luxury shopping centers, a position that demanded a great deal of patience and resilience. The opulence of the surroundings was a stark contrast to the stress that came with the job. The elegant displays and high-end brands attracted a clientele that was demanding and often indifferent to the staff's efforts. Managing a team in such an environment was no small feat. You had to ensure that everything ran smoothly, from inventory management to customer service. The rich customers, with their endless requests and high expectations, often tested the limits of your endurance. They seemed to suck the life out of you, leaving you drained by the end of the day. Yet, you couldn't afford to show any signs of fatigue. Your role required you to maintain a calm and composed demeanor, addressing complaints with a smile and ensuring that every shopper left satisfied. The holiday season only amplified the challenges. The influx of customers meant longer hours and heightened pressure. Each day felt like a marathon, with waves of shoppers flooding in, eager to make their purchases. The store was a hive of activity, with sales associates rushing to assist customers, restock shelves, and manage transactions. Amidst the chaos, you had to keep a watchful eye, ready to step in whenever issues arose. 

You were on your way to the staff area to take a break for lunch, feeling exhausted from the busy morning shift. The holiday rush had turned the shopping center into a whirlwind of activity, and you were grateful for a brief break. Just as you were about to reach the staff area, one of your co-workers called out your name. You rolled your eyes, already anticipating another request or issue that needed your immediate attention. With a deep breath, you turned to face her, trying to mask your frustration with a polite smile. 

"I'm really sorry to bother you, but we have a situation that requires your expertise. There's a particularly demanding customer, and the supervisor has tried everything but just can't seem to handle it. She asked me to find you because we really need your help with this. Would you mind stepping in to assist? I know you're on your way to lunch, but it would mean a lot to us." 

You sighed internally, knowing that this was part of the job. "Alright, lead the way," you replied, forcing a reassuring smile. Following your co-worker, you mentally prepared yourself for yet another challenging interaction, hoping that it wouldn't take too long so you could finally enjoy your much-needed break. 

She led you to one of the private dressing rooms. From a distance, you could hear a female voice demanding something from her, you supposed, boyfriend. "Oh baby, what do you think about this one?" you heard as you approached the door. Your heart skipped a beat when you recognized the voice that responded—it was Mingi. You stopped in your tracks, your mind racing. The reality of seeing him again, and with someone new, hit you like a ton of bricks. But you took a deep breath, steadied yourself, and pushed forward, opening the door to the dressing room. Inside, you saw Mingi standing next to a woman who was examining herself in the mirror, holding up an elegant dress. The room was filled with an awkward tension as Mingi's eyes met yours. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the memories of your past flooding back with a vivid intensity. 

Mingi's expression shifted from surprise to a mix of emotions—confusion, regret, and perhaps a hint of longing. The woman, oblivious to the charged atmosphere, continued to admire herself in the mirror, adjusting the dress and waiting for Mingi's opinion. 

You felt like the air was taken out of your lungs. He was here, standing before you, after so much time had passed. Memories of your time together flooded back, each one more vivid and overwhelming than the last. You had to swallow hard and clench your fist to keep the act up, to maintain your composure in front of him and his new girlfriend. The mix of emotions inside you—shock, longing, regret—threatened to break through, but you knew you had to stay professional. This was your job, your life now, and you couldn't let the past disrupt it. "Excuse me madam, I’m a manager here," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "Is there anything I can assist you with?" 

"Oh yes, we've been looking forward to buying the limited-edition shoes from the new collection," she said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. 

You took a deep breath at her words, trying to maintain your professionalism. "I'm really sorry to inform you about this, as my coworker already told you, madam, the shoes I believe you are referring to are only available for special order." 

Her enthusiasm faltered slightly, replaced by a look of disappointment. "Special order? Is there any way we can place one now?" 

"Unfortunately, the special-order period for those shoes has already ended," you explained gently. "They were available for a limited time, and we are currently out of stock. However, we do have a selection of other exclusive items that might interest you." 

You caught Mingi's eyes boring into you, his face pale and expression frozen. He stood still, as if rooted to the spot, and he seemed to not even breathe. The intensity of his gaze sent a wave of emotions crashing over you, each one more overwhelming than the last. You felt your eyes watering, a rush of emotions threatening to spill over. You blinked quickly, trying to get rid of the tears and maintain your composure. This was neither the time nor the place to let your feelings show, but the sight of him, so close yet so distant, made it nearly impossible to hold back the tide of emotions. 

The girl in front of you sighed, clearly disheartened by the news. Mingi, sensing her disappointment, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's all right," he said softly. "Let's take a look at what else they have. I'm sure you can find something you'll love." 

She turned to you with a sharp expression, her tone shifting to one of impatience. "Do you even know who my boyfriend is?’’ 

You swallowed hard, forcing a polite smile despite the tension. "Yes, madam, I'm well aware. Please allow me to show you some other exclusive items that might catch your interest."  

"Baby, won't you do something about it?" She once again turned to Mingi, her voice carrying a hint of frustration, but his eyes never left yours, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air between you. 

Mingi shifted uncomfortably, his eyes meeting his girlfriend for a brief moment before he turned to you again. "I'll see what I can do," he said softly, trying to soothe her. 

You took a deep breath, gathering your professionalism. "As I mentioned earlier, the special-order period has ended, and we are out of stock for the limited-edition shoes. However, if you'd like, I can take your contact information and notify you if any new limited editions become available in the future." 

The woman sighed, clearly not satisfied, but nodded reluctantly. "Fine, let's do that then." She handed you her information, and you quickly jotted it down, aware of Mingi's gaze still lingering on you. 

"Thank you for your understanding," you said, handing back her details. "Is there anything else I can assist you with today?" 

She shook her head, her disappointment evident. "No, that's all. Come on, baby, let's go." As they turned to leave, Mingi hesitated for a moment, his eyes locking with yours one last time. You could see the unspoken words and the regret in his gaze, you silently hoped he would say something, anything. You gave him a small, professional nod, and without a word, he turned away, following his girlfriend out of the dressing room. Once they were gone, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. 

You realized that the man you loved was no more. Instead, you met with someone who wore his face, who had his voice. Someone who was a stranger. The warmth that once radiated from his eyes was now replaced by an unfamiliar coldness. It was as if time had reshaped him into a different person, one that you could no longer recognize. The memories of your past seemed like a cruel illusion, a reminder of what once was and what could never be again. You realized with a heavy heart that the essence of the man you fell in love with had faded, leaving behind a mere shadow of who he used to be. 

Don't talk to strangers, they say, or you might fall in love. And when that love fades, those familiar faces turn into strangers once more. The irony of it all stung deeply. The very person who once knew you inside and out had become an enigma, a puzzle with pieces that no longer fit. As you watched him walk away, hand in hand with someone new, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of loss. The man you once knew, the man you once loved, was gone. And in his place stood a stranger who bore his likeness but none of the familiarity. 

The journey of love had taken you full circle, bringing you back to a place of solitude and reflection. The lessons learned were etched deeply into your soul, a testament to the transient nature of relationships. You couldn't help but wonder if you would ever recognize that familiar face again, or if he would forever remain a stranger, a fleeting memory in the tapestry of your life. 

[steddieonbigboy]

Abnormal Behaviours

written for @steddiemicrofic march prompt ‘pin’ wc: 388 | rated: T | cw: none | read on ao3

📌📌📌

"What's a three letter word for badge?"

They're sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee in the late morning light, and enjoying a rare day off together when Steve interrupts the Dio tape Eddie has playing over on the counter. It takes Eddie a moment to remember how to form words before he can offer a response to the crossword clue Steve has just thrown at him.

"Uhh pin?"

"Yeah that works, so what about 'not you'?"

"Me?"

"Sure, yep," Steve scratches his nose as he scans the newspaper, "Okay how about 'opposed to' for seven letters?"

"Against?"

"And, um, 1979 album by Pink Floyd?"

"The Wall? Hey, wait a second," Eddie grabs the puzzle pages from Steve's hands and stares at the blank sheet before looking up with a laugh, "You little shit!"

"C'mon Ed's," Steve grins unrepentant, "When have I ever willingly done a crossword? And to answer your question, yes. Yes, I will pin you against the wall."

"Did you seriously make fake crossword clues to get me to ask you that?"

"Robin helped."

"Robin help- well of course she did, neither of you can function without the other."

"Yeah, we're like guinea pigs."

"Stevie, baby," Eddie pinches his nose before taking a deep breath, "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"What? It's true! They get lonely without a friend," Steve sits up straight from where he's been slouching against the kitchen table, "And one of the books we read said that they can 'develop abnormal behaviours' if left alone and that's us!"

"Okay, two things. One, why have you read multiple books about guinea pigs? And two, why have you read multiple books about guinea pigs?"

"Oh, so it's fine for you to read multiple books on random subjects," Steve pouts, "But when I do it, it's weird?"

"It is when the subject matter is guinea pigs!"

"Me and Robin were thinking about getting one," Steve shrugs, "So, we were being responsible pet owners and doing some research first, and now we know that we have to get two!"

"Look, not that I don't love the idea or anything, but can we please get back to you pinning me against the wall?"

"Nope. In fact, I think we should go pick Robin up and go to the pet store instead."

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Same Old, Same Old

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: M (so much angst, no happy ending really, alcohol consumption/abuse, talks of killing/death, arguments/breakups)

wc: 1k

a/n: this whole album by the civil wars is joel core but this song specifically made me yearn for angsty joel. hope you’re just as sad as i am!! 🫶🏼

joel masterlist

'Cause do I love you // Oh, I do // And I'm going to 'til I'm gone // But if you think that I can stay in this // Same old, same old // Well, I don't

It was cold this morning, the body laying beside you in your dusty, threadbare sheets doing little to add any warmth.

Joel had retreated internally again, something during one of his trips outside the confines of Jackson apparently striking a tender nerve that he refused to let you attempt to soothe.

You knew who he was when you met him in the town bar, his dark eyes hiding an even darker soul behind them, but you didn’t care, you liked him not in spite of his past, but because of it. He was not a man you worried you’d lose to the monsters, both infected and not—he’d fought plenty to get this far and you knew he’d fight again if he had to. You liked the way he only spoke when he had something of value to say, never being one for small talk yourself. And when Joel smiled—not that it was a common occurrence, at least not lately—it almost felt as though he was taking you back in time, to somewhere safer, somewhere more fit for something as luxurious as the love you felt for him since the first time he spoke to you.

Now, after a year of sharing his bed and trying to crack the code to his head, you struggled more and more to find a reason to stay here in this cold house that he never decorated, it’s dark walls closing in on you day after day.

Perhaps it was the past that you stayed for.

Joel hadn’t always been this cold and distant. In the early days, he was shy and hesitant to make a friend, but he carried a new-found hope inside that allowed you to get your foot in the door. Maybe it was the newness of Jackson, or the little girl he’d adopted as his own that gave him the courage to pursue something with you, taking initiative to find you out around town, always under the guise of lending a helping hand. You welcomed him with open arms, having waited a lifetime to find a man like him—strong and protective and soft when you needed him to be, but only for you.

The two of you were attached at the hip for a long time, always pawing at each other and sneaking off to whatever private room you could find. Tommy liked to joke that it must be you doing all the work because he doubted Joel could manage anything at 56, but it couldn’t have been further from the truth. Joel was a capable man in every aspect of the word, putting every other man you’d ever had to shame with the simple touch of his hand.

Joel used to be present, he used to laugh and kiss and talk to you. But these days, the only person he spoke to was his brother and Ellie, and even they’d come to you with worries over his sudden change in attitude.

You believe it all started when he began going out on patrol as a request from Maria—a request you tried not to hate her for making. The changes didn’t happen overnight, either. Slowly, he started to pull away, choosing to stay out drinking with Tommy after a long shift rather than coming home for the dinner you and Ellie prepared together. Then, he started not to come home at all, instead choosing to crash on Tommy’s couch while you sat up all night in your lonely bed worrying if he found someone else, someone with the shine of newness that he could find comfort in.

Sitting up, you ran your palms over your exhausted and sleep-deprived face before turning to look at his back, watching him as he snored, unbothered and at peace. You began to resent him for not caring, for not being torn to shreds but the wedge he forced between the two of you. After all, there was only one explanation for his peace in all of this turbulence—he simply must not care about this relationship the way you did.

Thinking yourself sick, you climbed out of bed and made no effort to quiet your movements as you got ready for a shift at the garden, allowing your boots to clunk against the hard wood, the door to slam as you walked in and out of the bathroom, the pans to clank as you prepared yourself breakfast. If you weren’t going to be well rested because of this, neither was he.

It seemed to work, Joel’s heavy footsteps descending the staircase to find you eating alone at the kitchen table, no food or coffee left over for him.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” you asked, feigning ignorance. Joel narrowed his sleep-crusted eyes on you before shaking his head and rubbing a palm over his face.

“You startin’ this early?” he replied, walking over to brew a fresh pot of coffee and put some bread in the toaster. “Ever think it’d be nice for us to have a mornin’ without you pickin’ a fight?”

“No,” you replied, letting your fork clank against your plate as you immediately lost your appetite. “Fighting is the only time you fucking speak to me anymore, so I’m going to continue to pick these little fucking fights, Joel.”

“Jesus,” he sighed, turning back around to face you, his frame leaning against the counter behind him. “I’ve just been…stressed. No need to get your feelin’s hurt over it. It’s got nothin’ to do with us.”

“Doesn’t it?” you shouted. “I’m supposed to be your person, Joel. I’m supposed to be here for you—I’m trying to be here for you. But you’d rather drink yourself unconscious than speak to me.”

“And what am I supposed to say?” he shouted back, his voice booming off the walls in a way that yours never could. “I kill people. Every day. How am I supposed to come to you with that? How am I supposed to lay that down in your lap and ask you to untangle the goddamn knots in my mind?”

“I want to help!” you cried, your anger now turning to tears. “I want to share the burden! I don’t have half the weight holding me down that you do. Let me take some of your hurt and carry it with me…please.”

“I’m not gonna do that to you,” he shook his head, voice quieter but no less harsh. You stared at him blankly, the only solution running through your mind being leaving him, and you weren’t sure you could manage that. “I told you when we met I didn’t want a wife. I didn’t—you’re not my—“ He huffed a sigh at his inability to put his feelings into words. “You don’t need to worry about me like this.”

“I know I’m not your fucking wife, Joel.” You stood up and walked over to the sink, carelessly dropping the plate inside before turning back to face him. “And you know what? You’re right. I don’t need to worry like this over a man that won’t even claim me. So I’m done with this same old, same old bullshit.”

“What do you mean you’re done—“

“I mean I’m fucking leaving!” you shouted. “I mean you’ve gotten what you want. I won’t sit around here and wait for you, I won’t watch you drink yourself to death, I won’t lay in a cold fucking bed when I can find someone who wants to hold me at night.”

You saw how the thought of you with someone else struck him in the chest.

“I’m going. I’m going back to my own house, because as lonely and cold as it is there, it’s a million times warmer than the bed we’ve been sharing.” Joel swallowed thickly and forced his expression into indifference. “Ellie knows where to find me if she needs me.”

Joel called your name as you walked out of the house without another word, figuring you’d come back once he left for patrol to pack what few things you kept at his place. You had to fight yourself to not turn around as he continued to call out your name until the front door closed and drowned it out.

Maybe in time he’d realize his mistake and come back for you, for the love you were offering and still deeply yearn to keep offering, and maybe then you’d have the man you fell in love with back. Or, maybe this story didn’t have a happy ending. Maybe you’d move on, find someone new, avoiding his eyes as you walked through town hand in hand with someone you could only love halfway. Maybe he wouldn’t even notice you’d even walked past him.

Time could only tell.

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 51]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.2K

Comeback season was in full swing. The promotional interview and showcase were a success, the public was hyped up for the titles songs and the album. The ATINY and other Kpop fans were making the song trend.

'Just did the first sound check. I'll see you tonight! - Mings'

'I'll be there to cheer all of you on. I'm excited to see what a music show taping is like. - Indigo'

Tonight at M Countdown, Ateez was going for 1st place against another group for the title song. If they win, it would be the first 1st place trophy this comeback season.

This was also your first time seeing the filming and performance venue of a real music show so you were excited to see the process.

"Why am I feeling nervous when I'm not even performing?" You chuckled. But you believed in the boys and the power of ATINY to win 1st place.

'An overnight hit to kick start their comeback. But who is this new producer in KQ?'

'The other hit songs produced by Producer Indigo, the mysterious producer, who played a big part in producing the new comeback song and album for Ateez.'

Another thing with this comeback was that people were now curious about you and who you were. There were some articles. Thankfully, there were no leaks to any information about you. You stayed off social media so that front was safe. There was no gender, no face, no name to use to find you.

Although, some people have been trying to reach you through the server that music artists and companies usually use to engage you.

'Hi Producer Indigo. I'm an ATINY! I'm not sure if you will ever read this or if this is really the only way to contact you. But thank you for your hard work, the ATINYs appreciate you!'

'I think you gel well with the Ateez boys. Can you tell me what it's like working with them? From a curious ATINY'

'How do you capture each of the boys' musical personality and put it together in a song? This song is like a perfect blend of all the boys.'

'Are you a girl? Is your identity being hidden because you're dating an Ateez member?'

You finally understood what people meant when they spoke about the extreme some fans would go to. Some questions were really personal, as if you would reply to them. But most of the ATINY sent messages of compliments to you.

"Oh, I need to get ready." You went to shower and change into some outing clothes. One of the Ateez managers were going to take you to the M Countdown film site.

'Mings, what should I wear? - Baby'

'Hahahaha. You're so cute, baby. It doesn't matter since you will be backstage with us in the room. Wear anything you want. - Mings'

'Anything? Well, I guess this is the perfect time to pull out my ball gown then. I'm asking because I might see some other artists there so I don't want to dress like a slop. - Baby'

'If you wanna wear a ball gown, go ahead! But you're far from a slop, baby, no matter what you wear. - Mings'

With a sigh, you picked out some ripped jeans, a short sleeves turtle neck and an oversized black hooded bomber jacket.

"Sorry for the wait, manager nim." You said as you climbed into the van while fixing the mask over your face. M Countdown meant there would be fans and you did not want to risk anyone seeing you or being suspicious of your identity so you even brought a cap if the hood and mask weren't enough.

"No worries, Indigo. We're glad you could make it. The boys are excited for you to be there at your first music show taping." He chuckled and began to drive.

"I'm nervous. Not sure what to expect." You chuckled.

"Nothing to be nervous about. Just follow our lead on where to go and you'll be fine." He assured.

"Before I forget. Here. You will need to wear this to get in and out of places. Plus, the security won't think you're a fan that snuck in and try to kick you out." He handed you an Ateez crew tag to wear.

"Thank you. Definitely wouldn't want to be kicked out of my first show." You laughed as you slipped it over your head.

"Omg, who is that?" As the van went past, some fans waiting otuside the venue pointed at your van.

"Don't worry, they can't see you. But every time there's a security van, they think a celebrity is inside." The manager told you as he waited for the guard the check the van's number plate before letting the van drive into the carpark.

"Alright, let's go." He parked the van. You checked your reflection in your phone to make sure that your mask and cap was adjust well then pulled your hood up.

"Just follow me." He waited for you. You trailed behind him, tucked your hands into your pockets.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Ah! Someone save me!" You were nearly mowed down by Wooyoung who was being chased by Jongho. But luckily, the manager tugged you out of harm's way.

"Kids! Stop yelling and running around! You're being a nuisance!" Hongjoong scolded. That was when he stopped, staring at you weirdly for a few seconds before he recognised you.

"Oh my gosh, Indi. You scared me! You're wrapped up, I can hardly see you." He put a hand over his chest. He wrapped his arms around you to hug you. You let out soft giggles of happiness, you've missed him. With his arm around your shoulders, he led you into the dressing room where the others were.

"It's the masked stranger." He announced.

"Indigo. We're glad you could make it." San grinned and came over. He hooked an arm around you, patting you on the back.

"Hwa~" You waved to Seonghwa through the mirror as he was getting his hair and make up done. He reached to the back to hold your hand, swinging it happily.

"You look really handsome, Hwa." You complimented.

"Thank you. How have you been?" He asked, changing the subject as his ears got red from your compliment.

"Good. I'm going to say hi to the others. I'll be back." You said briefly and patted his shoulder before going to greet the others. Yunho hugged you, teetering from side to side as he laughed.

"He's glaring at me, isn't he?" He whispered playfully. Your eyes shifted and saw Mingi staring at you and Yunho through the mirror. If looks could kill, Yunho would be six feet under. You hummed in reply to Yunho, trying your best not to laugh.

"It's less hectic than I thought it would be back here." You noted as you leaned against Yunho's larger frame.

"Because we already did the sound check so it's just getting ready. That's why Yeosangie is sleeping." Yunho nodded over to the male.

"How is he so pretty even when he sleeps?" You scoffed.

"That's the question on everyone's mind." Yunho chuckled. Soon, you both felt an ominous shadow looming over the both of you. You turned around to see Mingi there.

"It's your turn." He frowned, almost snapping at his best friend. Yunho snickered, patting your head before walking away.

"Hi, Mingi." You looked up at him with a small wave.

"Hey." Mingi breathed out, trying to keep his jealousy at bay. Even if he couldn't see the rest of your face, he could see the playful glint in your eyes. If he could, he would back you against the wall and kiss you in front of everyone now, just to show that you're his, but he had to control himself.

"Wait, why was Wooyoung getting beat up by Jongho again?" You asked, remembering the youngest chasing after Wooyoung when you entered the room earlier.

"Why do you still bother asking at this point? Wooyoung always does something that gets him beat up by the maknae." Hongjoong sighed.

"He provokes Jongho but gets scared when Jongho retaliates." You replied with a scoff.

Mingi subtly nodded over to the couch and you sat next to each other. It didn't seem out of the ordinary with the way the side of his thigh pressed against yours. No one thought anything of it.

"Did you come from your home or the office?" He asked. Of course he knew the answer, he just wanted to talk to you.

"Home. I had a meeting with those drama producers regarding their OST and sent over the final revision earlier today. So now my focus now will be Wooyoung's recorded song cover, get that ready for the first round of submission and review with Eden." You informed.

"Hopefully things can slow down a bit for you. You deserve a break, Indigo. You're always working in your studio, day and night." Mingi smiled. You nodded your head.

"Are you nervous for today?" You asked.

"There's always a bit of nerves but not too bad. If we win, we win, if not, that's fine. As long as we have a stage to perform, we're happy."

"That's a very optimistic way of looking at things. But I agree, there's no need to be nervous. I'm glad the song has been well received by everyone." You laughed.

"It's a great song. What's not to love?" Wooyoung asked, coming back into the room with Jongho behind him.

"Indigo~" He bent down to hug you. You squeezed him as he sat on your other side.

"We'll win today, for sure. For you. We'll make your first time at a music show a memorable one. You're our lucky charm, I just know it." He winked at you.

"Now that's some pressure on me." You joked.

"Just go and have fun, alright? I love watching you guys perform." You softened, feeling tears brim your eyes. There was a lump in your throat but you tried your best to swallow it. Luckily Wooyoung and Mingi were too distracted to notice the big but shaky breath you took to calm yourself down.

"We need Ateez backstage in 10 minutes." One of the stage crew came in. Hongjoong gathered the boys together to brief them. You sat there, watching them quietly.

"Whenever you're ready." The manager told them as Hongjoong wrapped up his words of encouragement.

"Do you want to watch them perform from backstage?" Another manager offered.

"Can I? I assumed I would be watching through the screen that's in here. I wouldn't want to be in the way or distract anyone." You chuckled. He nodded and waved for you to follow.

"It's your song after all." He added. You stood at the side, watching him and the others help the boys with their microphones.

"All the best, Ateez." You wished softly, wary of where you were. Seonghwa waved you over to where they were gathered in a circle. You blinked in confusion but obediently stood between him and Mingi. You looked at Seonghwa whispered something to Hongjoong while Mingi smiled softly at you.

"Today, we're 9 makes 1 team." Hongjoong said. The others nodded in agreement as they put their hands together in the center. You chewed on your lip as you put your hand on top of theirs.

"9 makes 1 team!" They all chanted as they threw their hands down. You didn't say anything but waved at them, you didn't trust your voice to not break.

"Ateez, ready for the stage." The crew announced and the fans cheered loudly as the boys went up.

"Aish." You wiped the stray tears that fell. Luckily the Ateez boys didn't see this.

"Here you go." One of the managers handed you a tissue.

"Ah, thank you. Sorry, I don't know why I'm tearing up." You laughed as you received the tissue with an embarrassed bow and quickly wiped the tears.

You watched the performance intently, giving them all your focus and attention because that was what they deserved after working so hard. You were so proud of them and this song. After the first recording was done, the boys interacted with the fans.

"Thank you for coming out and waiting for us. Do you like the song, ATINY?" San asked.

"Yes!" The fans all chimed.

"I'm glad to hear that. Like I said during the promotional interview and showcase, I think this is the first time all Ateez members were involved in the song writing and producing." Hongjoong said.

"But the hardwork was all worth it for you, ATINY." Yunho charmingly smiled at the fans, making them cheer again.

"Ateez members, ready for oneshot take. Positions." The director spoke into the microphone.

The boys did the another take of the performance and waved to the fans before exiting the stage. It took a lot of will power not to throw yourself at them to hug them.

"You all did so well." You told them as you walked alongside them to return to the dressing room. The boys all looked at you, feeling pride swell in their chest at the thought of making you so happy with their performance of the song. Yes, they worked hard on this song but you worked even harder.

"Sorry, is it okay if we have a short private meeting, please?" Hongjoong suddenly requested the few staff that were loitering in the dressing room.

"Sure." They all moved to the door, seemingly used to this. You were about to leave but Yeosang held your hand to stay.

"Now you can comfortably interact with us." Seonghwa smiled.

"You really did well. I was so proud watching you all perform on stage, I don't think I'll ever get tired of watching you perform." You said, hugging each other them.

"There's another reason we got people to leave the room." Yunho chuckled as you hugged Mingi last.

"Huh?" You were confused. But Mingi surprised you by yanking your mask down and pressing his lips against yours. He gently cupped your cheek as he smiled into the kiss. The other boys turned away to give you both some privacy.

"There. I've been wanting to do that since you walked in." Mingi panted as he pulled away, adjusting your mask over your face. You stared at him with a dazed look.

"Mings!" You finally realised what he just did and slapped his arm in embarrassment. How could he do that with the others here?

"What? Serves you right for hugging everyone else in front of me." Mingi smirked.

"And you! Think you could get away with hugging my girlfriend so close." Mingi glared at his best friend, slapping the back of his neck. Yunho just snickered.

"But you did great." You smiled, hugging Mingi. His arms hooked over your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

"Of course, I had my lucky charm with me right here." He said. You couldn't take too long or the staff might get suspicious so after another quick peck, Hongjoong opened the door for the other staff to come back in. He bowed in apology for making them leave but they waved him off, understanding the need for privacy.

"Everyone have your meal then we're back on stage for the announcement of today's first place." The manager said, wheeling in the food boxes on a trolley.

"Have you eaten?" Jongho asked you as he received the styrofoam box with his name.

"Yes. I ate before I came. Thanks." You told him.

"Here. I'm not feeling it today." Mingi handed you his drink, making sure to stick to straw in. It was watermelon juice, the song he would adorably made up on an Ateez logbook.

"You sure? It's your favourite..." You looked at him. Mingi couldn't help the lopsided smile that formed when he met eyes with you.

"It's fine. I'd rather finish my coffee." He said. You receive the drink, slipping the straw under your mask.

"Why are you all sitting on the floor? There are couches here with tables." You asked them while laughing, noticing how some of them were bent over awkwardly, trying to get food into their mouths. The space next to you and the adjacent couches were empty.

"Trust us, we've tried. They always like to sit on the floor and eat." The managers sighed, shaking their heads. You migrated to sit on the floow with them.

"Hehe, did you like the stage?" Wooyoung asked as you settled beside him.

"Yeah. It's very different compared to watching you guys dance in the pratice room for sure." You nodded your head.

"For one, we're not dressed in sweatpants, drenched in our own sweat in a stuffy room. There's pretty lights and costumes now." Seonghwa pointed out, laughing.

"You're always pretty, Hwa." You rolled your eyes, making Seonghwa blush at your offhanded compliment.

"What about me?!" Wooyoung exclaimed.

"All of you. You always look good, no matter where you are or what you wear. I'm sure the fans can attest to that." You corrected yourself. Hongjoong shook his head with a sigh at how they could all act like immature kids. When your phone rang, you stood up and moved to the bathroom to answer it.

"Finish up, brush your teeth and get ready to go on stage for awards." The managers said. You came out of the bathroom, tucking your phone back into your pocket.

"Everything okay?" Hongjoong asked. You nodded your head. The boys were rushed to brush their teeth after eating.

"Let's go!" The managers filed everyone out of the room. You weren't sure if you should go since the final stage with the other idols would be crowded.

"Come." Yeosang smiled and gestued for you to go with them. The stage crew got all the idols lined up to go on stage.

"Good luck, boys." You said softly to them. They smiled and waved to you before going up.

"Excuse me. Are you Producer Indigo?" One of the idols asked. You nodded your head, subconsciously pulling your hoodie over the cap a little tighter. He reached out to shake your hand.

"I heard from someone that you were here to support Ateez sunbaenims but didn't know if it was true. I'm a big fan of your work." He said enthusiastically. You bowed your head gratefully as his other group mates shook hands with you.

"Please move to the stage." The crew moved them away. But the other people backstage were suddenly aware of your presence.

"Come on, come on." You chanted to yourself. It was so noisy you couldn't really hear the announcers or see what was happening on the stage.

"And the first place goes to... ATEEZ! Congratulations!"

That was all you heard. You didn't care anymore, throwing your hands up in the air in excitement.

"Manager nim! We won!" You hugged the managers that were there, trying not to cry from happiness. They all patted your back, congratulating you as well.

"We would like to thank all the ATINYs who have been supporting us non-stop! Thank you to our CEO Kim, Edenary members, all the staff that work tirelessly! Also, this trophy goes to Producer Indigo and all the hardwork, time and effort put into the studio. Thank you, ATINY! We love you." Hongjoong said.

~

Series Masterlist

[spookiesmausoleum]

𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 : 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

I've been listening to the album nonstop so I wanted to put together some starters based on Vessel's lyrical talent - it's going to be a long one. Feel free to mix and match and add context around the quotes! Please remember to specify muse for multis and change pronouns as needed.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃

"I come as a blade, a sacred guardian, so keep me sharp and test my worth in blood."

"I'd turn my walls to gold to bring you home again."

"We act out of our holy duty to be constantly awake."

"You've got me in a chokehold."

"Even if it hurts me, even if I can't sleep, show me the way."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

"I've got a river running right into you - I've got a blood trail, red in the blue."

"Something you say or something you do is a taste of the Divine."

"You've got my body, flesh and bone; the sky above, the Earth below."

"Raise me up again, take me past the edge - I want to see the other side."

"Oh, and my love, did I mistake you for a sign from God?"

"Are you really here to cut me off? Or maybe just to turn me on."

"'Cause these days I would be lying if I told you that I didn't wish that I could be your man."

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄

"You won't ever have to talk about it, you'll never wanna talk about it."

"You were more than just somebody I was destined to meet."

"Never mind the death threats, parting at the door; we'd rather be six feet under than be lonely."

"You only drink the water when you think it's holy."

"You gave me nothing whatsoever but a reason to leave."

"You say you want me, but you know I'm not what you need - But I am."

𝐀𝐐𝐔𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐀

"Well, my love is an animal call; cutting through the darkness, bouncing off the walls."

"These days I'm a circuit board: integrated hardware you cannot afford."

"Well, my past is a holy book - Between the pain and the way you look, I'm stuck in a time where the mountains shook."

"Oh and I am done dancing to alarm bells; no wonder my ears are still ringing."

"I am done fighting off change."

𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐄

"You have become the voice in my head."

"My life is torn, my bones, they bleed - My metaphors fall short in the end."

"Are you in pain like I am?"

"Will we remain stuck in the throat of Gods? Will the pain stop if we go deeper?"

"I want to go where nobody else will ever go."

"Follow me between the jaws of fate."

"I want to have you to myself for once."

𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐌

"I know what you want from me."

"You want someone to be your reflection, your bitter deception … Setting you free; so you'll take what you want and leave."

"Who made you like this?"

"Who encrypted your dark gospel in body language?"

"Tell me you guessed my future and it mapped onto your fantasy. Turn me into your mannequin and I'll turn you into my puppet queen."

"Won't you come and dance in the dark with me?"

"Show me what you are, I am desperate to know."

"Be the first to the feast, let's choke on the past."

"And I know what you want from me … You want the same as me."

"You make me wish I could disappear."

𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘?

"I caught you reading by the sunrise; you wandered from the path through the silence of the hillside."

"Are you really okay?"

"I saw it in your eyes; cutting deeper than the scars could run."

"I want to help you but I don't know how."

"I cannot fix your wounds this time."

"I don't believe you when you tell me you are fine."

"Please don't hurt yourself again."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

"Why are you never real?"

"I know that you will disappear just as I awake."

"Somewhere in the past, something was between you and I, my dear."

"No matter what I do this scar will never fade."

"I make the most of the turning tide."

"Don't wait, 'cause this could be the last time you turn up in the reveries of my mind."

"The shifting states you follow me through are unrevealed."

"Just let me go or take me with you."

𝐃𝐘𝐖𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐌

"Do you pull at the chains? Or do you push into constant aching?"

"Do you wish that you loved me?"

"Is there something you give that you will never receive in return?"

"Why are you trying to live like everything is a lesson to learn?"

"Can you ever forgive yourself?"

"I would turn into a stranger in an instant if I could."

"My reflection just won't smile back at me like I know it should."

"Maybe it's not that you conceal your feelings, it's just that they just don't exist"

"Do you ever believe that we can turn into different people?"

"Is it better to just not feel?"

"I've tried so hard to fix it all, but nothing seems to help, but I cannot hope to give you what I cannot give myself."

"Smile back at me, please."

𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍

"I almost became just a stoic statue, fit for nobody."

"The vicious cycle was over the moment you smiled at me."

"Just like the rain you cast the dust into nothing, and wash out the salt from my hands."

"Touch me again."

"Will you cleanse me with pleasure?"

"I'm coiled up like the venomous serpent."

"I'm tangled in your trance and I'm certain that you've got your hooks in me."

"I know that I am what I am; the mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb."

"Maybe it's all just a game."

"When I open my eyes to the future I can hear you say my name."

"Rain down on me."

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍

"I see you drifting past the fog, but no one told you where to go."

"We dive through crystal waters, perfect oceans, but no one told me not to breathe."

"My, my, those eyes like fire - I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre."

"I'm a waking Hell and the Gods grow tired."

"Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire."

"Take me back to Eden."

"I need you to see me for what I have become."

"we've no idea what we've got until we lose it. And no amount of love will keep it around if we don't choose it."

"I don't know what's got its teeth in me but I'm about to bite back in anger."

"No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence."

𝐄𝐔𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐃

"I've got a ghost in the hallway grinning and a heavy head that won't stop turning."

"Give me one last ride on a sunset sky lane."

"I can feel the walls around me closing in."

"I hope to God you don't know this feeling."

"Yet in reverse, you are all my symmetry; a parallel I would lay my life on."

"If your wings won't find you Heaven, I will bring it down like an ancient bygone."

"I need to leave this part of me behind."

"Do you still believe that nothing else matters?"

"For me: It's still the autumn leaves, these ancient canopies that we used to lay beneath."

"We tangle endlessly like lovers entwined."

"You will not be mine."

"The Night Belongs to You."

[magiccath]

Doctor Who (Taylor's Version)

The Doctors (9-14) as Taylor Swift albums, songs, and lyrics

9: reputation

Dark and brooding on the surface, but really just a big softie. 9 looks like a meanie, but he’s actually one of the softest Doctors.

Simultaneously LWYMD, This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things, and End Game. 

“I’m sorry, the old Doctor can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Oh! Cause he’s dead!” 

“For all my flaws, paranoia, and insecurities. I've made mistakes, and made some choices that's hard to deny” 

“Reputation precedes me, they told you I'm crazy. I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me

“And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for. King of my heart, body and soul”

10: Speak Now

Dreamly, love-struck, and fairy-tale like. 10 is a lover and romantic first and foremost. But also, he definitely gets breakup songs written about him…

Timeless, Electric Touch, Enchanted, Our Song, and Dear John

“And, somehow, I know that you and I would've found each other. In another life, you still would've turned my head” 

“All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life. Got a feelin' your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with life”

“I've been left in the rain lost and pining. I'm tryin' hard not to look like I'm trying ‘cause every time I tried hard for love, it fell apart”

“I was enchanted to meet you” 

11: Lover

Bright, bubbly, and happy. But oh wait! Anxiety! Crippling self doubt!

Cruel Summer, Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince, Paper Rings, False God, Afterglow.

“And I snuck in through the garden gate every night that summer just to seal my fate”

“He looks up grinning like a devil”

“It's you and me, that's my whole world”

“You play stupid games you win stupid prizes” 

“I lived like an island, punished you with silence”

“It’s all me in my head”

12: Midnights

Older, but not always wiser. We’ve learned a few life lessons and grown, but we’re still the same sad anxious ball we used to be.

Anti-hero, You’re on Your Own, Kid, Vigilante Sh*t, and Dear Reader

“I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser”

“I’m a monster on the hill. Too big to hang out, slowly lurching towards your favoratie city”

“It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me”

“I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this”

“Lately I've been dressing for revenge”

“If it feels like a trap, you're already in one”

“Never take advice from someone who’s falling apart” 

13: 1989

It’s time to have some fun with our friends and enjoy life! Except, we’re still sad? I

Know Places, Say Don’t Go, Wonderland, Clean, and Bad Blood

“I know places we can hide”

“I would stay forever if you say, "don't go" But you won't”

“You held on tight to me 'cause nothing's as it seems”

“When I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe and by morning gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean”

“You forgive, you forget, but you never let it go”

“Was it over then? And is it over now?”

14: folklore

Just a lonely little bean who has a lot of feelings. After numerous regenerations, the Doctor finally shows some emotional vulnerability!

The 1, cardigain, my tears ricochet, this is me trying, epiphany, and peace. 

“I had this dream you’re doing cool sh*t, having adventures on your own” 

“But we were something, don't you think so?”

“You drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleedin'”

“Tried to change the ending…” 

“I didn't have it in myself to go with grace 'cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave”

“I just wanted you to know that this is me trying”

“Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?” 

[linagram]

linagram season 3 announcement!

hi hi everyone! thank you so much for waiting! i'm glad to say that linagram season 3 is finally starting!! this post will contain a short summary of season 2 that you can read in case you forgot anything or if you don't know much about linagram but still want to participate and a list of everything you can expect from season 3 (things like voice dramas, interrogations, you get it).

you can read about the first season here.

linagram has (or more like.. used to have) two guards and ten prisoners. the guards' names are (last name, first name order) sanada eiji and andou miki. the prisoners' names are miyagawa akio, hanasaki aimi, ishizu shun, chiba naomi, sanada kei (yes, him and eiji are brothers), yoshioka eiko, yano asahi (who is actually miki's brother), maruyama yurika, kuroki riku and himura reina.

however, season 2 was.. quite intense. because of an injury that happened because the prisoners were somehow able to touch him (and it later turned out to be a punishment for not being a "good guard") sanada eiji had to take a break from being a guard, so the new guard came to take his place- ah, but not, like, completely replace him! he's just here to help miki so that she doesn't feel too lonely, haha..

anyway, i hope you will greet the third guard of the milgram prison, kuroki hinode (riku's older brother), with open arms.

the trial results were much more polarizing than the season 1 results too.

if season 1 ended with seven innocent prisoners and three guilty ones, season 2 ended with five innocent prisoners and five guilty ones. (though to be more specific, one of them actually got a 50/50 verdict, so in the end we went with her canon trial 2 verdict: guilty).

the five innocent prisoners are miyagawa akio, hanasaki aimi, sanada kei, yano asahi and himura reina.

the five guilty prisoners are ishizu shun, chiba naomi, yoshioka eiko, maruyama yurika and kuroki riku.

a lot happened after the trial too. since sanada eiji, who was responsible for punishing the guilty prisoners, got injured, it was kuroki hinode's responsibility to come up with a new punishment. he decided to go with something that the guards simply call a "memory machine": a small device that they can use to "steal" the prisoner's memories. they can take any memories they like and they can give them back whenever they want. i sure wonder how that went..

the prisoners also got some presents in the christmas special and uh.. this may sound weird, but i think you should pay attention to those presents more. they are actually kind of important.

one prisoner even found out that her parents are most likely associated with milgram and they may even be responsible for all of this.. how scary..

but oh well! that's all for season 2!

now, let's take a look at what awaits us in season 3.

i know that it would most likely be better to post a schedule and i know that people can miss something but. i find schedules too stressful, because my life is just. like that and i'm afraid i won't be able to follow it. (i know i can just queue stuff or something but the tumblr queue has failed me before. i do not trust it)

but if you need to know when you can expect an update, i try to post stuff weekly or at least once in two weeks.

i use tumblr polls and everyone's trials last a week simply because 1) i am impatient and 2) i just think that's enough.

the prisoners' voice dramas usually get posted once in a week (but there may be exceptions) and each pair's interrogation usually gets posted a week after the both prisoners' voice dramas. (all interrogations have already been written) each voice drama also includes the prisoner's music video description and a poll.

anyway, this is how season 3 will go!

- linagram season 3 albums info (album covers, original song titles, cover songs, album trailer + song trailer voicelines)

- linagram season 3 designs info (this time we're going without the character profiles, apologies for that. instead of that, i will simply put all designs in one post and talk about them a little bit. hopefully i can show how the characters have changed through their designs and the voice dramas.)

- pre-t3 voice drama #01 (the linagram verdict system will be explained. i've made a poll earlier and asked if people would prefer the verdict system to be revealed or to stay a mystery and the first option won)

- pre-t3 voice drama #02 (this one is the usual discussion of the previous trial's verdicts and how they have affected the prisoners)

- miyagawa akio's trial

- hanasaki aimi's trial

- akio and aimi's interrogation

- ishizu shun's trial

- chiba naomi's trial

- shun and naomi's interrogation

- sanada kei's trial

- yoshioka eiko's trial

- kei and eiko's interrogation

- yano asahi's trial

- maruyama yurika's trial

- asahi and yurika's interrogation

- kuroki riku's trial

- himura reina's trial

- riku and reina's interrogation

- the end of the third trial voice drama

- [REDACTED]

-[REDACTED]

anyway yeah, that's it! please be careful with your verdicts everyone. this is the last trial after all.

(and no, voting them all innocent won't make it any better... sorry </3)

[listerbirdloml]

ghost

(for the iwbft mini story thing)

ask and you shall receive. i'm well aware this is super unrealistic but BOOO DIDNT ASK BOOO I'LL WRITE WHAT I WANT

again, no real content warning other than silliness, strong language, and rushed writing. established bicci but its like two lines. set 2/3 years after events of IWBFT. 1K words.

Ghost

"It's definitely haunted."

When Cecily first mentioned a change in their accommodation during their first tour in America, Jimmy's traitor of a brain instantly began concocting worst-case scenarios. They were going to have to camp in the American wilderness with the bears, the cougars, and the coyotes. They were going to have to ask for shelter at a lonely homestead, as though they were simple gold prospectors in the 1800s seeking shelter. They were going to have to spend another night on that godforsaken tour bus with Rowans loud snoring and Listers incessant need to initiate games of “I spy” every three seconds.

His bandmates had tried reassuring him. There was no way Cecily would let them camp in the middle of the United States, and there was no way she would let them shack up with some random family. No, what was more likely was a change in hotel. Maybe even a switch of rooms. Maybe they’d have to share.

Rowan had been right, apparently. There was a change in hotel. And now, the creators of not two but three golden albums had to spend the night in a most definitely haunted hotel, 50 miles from the nearest town.

"It's not haunted.” Two heads turned to Lister as he spoke up. They had been standing in a row on the pavement, all three of them staring up at the building as though they were getting the perfect promo shot for an indie horror film. Lister bushed his sunglasses off of his nose and rested them on top of his head. There were little red indents where they had originally sat. “I don’t feel anything.”

“You don't feel anything?” Rowan had an eyebrow raised, his voice thick with scepticism. “And pray tell, what would you feel if it was haunted?”

“Oh easy.” Lister slung an arm around Rowan's shoulder. “My butt cheeks would start clenching.” Rowan shoved him off, making him bump into Jimmy, who was still gazing up at the building in front of them. There must have been genuine concern on his face as Listers farcing stopped. “Jimjam, seriously. Dont worry. It's just for one night. Then we are on our way to LA. Theres no haunted building in LA!"

"Actually," but Lister had already walked off, and towards the front door, Rowans comment ignored. The two remaining band members sighed and watched him go, Cecily following not far behind.

“You know, there's a way we could get him back for Peegate."

That caught Jimmy's attention, and he was finally looking away from the rafters. Peegate had happened two weeks prior, during their stop in Texas. Lister had hidden on the tour bus after a stop at a rest station and then texted Rowan, telling them they'd forgotten him while he’d gone into the petrol station to use the toilets. After what was most definitely an illegal U-turn by their driver and fifty frenzied calls to Lister's phone, he’d come out of hiding, all giggles.

So yes. Jimmy was more than happy to get back at him.

The interior wasn’t much better than the exterior of the building. Jimmy thought that it wouldn’t be out of place for a period drama to take place in the room he was supposed to be sleeping in.

There was an ensuite at least, but it was currently occupied by Lister, who had called dibs on the first shower. Jimmy had put up just enough of a fight for it to seem convincing before Lister disappeared behind the door and the spray of water could be heard.

With a text to Rowan to let him know, Jimmy only had to wait all of ten seconds before the bassist was tiptoeing into the room and shuffling under the bed. There was a muffled curse as he hit his head on the frame, but soon after he went quiet, and they both waited for the drummer to reappear.

As was expected, Lister was quick out. His was still dripping with water and his usual pale skin was tinted red from the scalding heat he enjoyed in the shower, but he was thankfully dressed. With a towel wrapped around his shoulders, he yawned loudly and shuffled over to the bed. He had two hands resting on the wood of the bedpost, leaning over to press a loud and exaggerated kiss to the crown of Jimmy's head.

“Bathrooms free, sweetheart—HOLY FUCK!” With a full-body jerk, Lister stumbled backwards. He was screeching incoherently, his right leg raised off the floor.

“Somethinggrabbedmesomethinggrabbedme!” He was pointing frantically under the bed. Jimmy couldn’t keep it in and keeled over laughing. He could hear Rowan laughing just as hard under the bed, and soon he was wriggling his way out. When his upper half was visible he laid on his back, arm over his flushed red face as he continued to cackle.

Jimmy could feel his breath start to catch and reminded himself to breathe in and out correctly, but the look on Listers face made it hard to do so. He looked a true mix of dumbfounded and enraged.

“You bastard!” He stomped his foot like a petulant toddler. One hand was placed on his chest, and he was breathing heavier than normal. "That's not funny, Rowan." But he couldn’t hide the slight twitch in his lips. “You're the worst. What if I'd been naked, huh?" This only served to make Rowan laugh harder.

He scooted the full way out from under the bed and flopped onto his back next to where Jimmy sat. He was starting to calm down now, a hand over his own heart like Listers had been. The blonde sighed and laid down next to him. Jimmy turned so that he was facing their faces again.

"That's what you get for the butt comment.” Jimmy poked Listers rib and earned a swat at his knee in return.

“And Peegate. Don't forget Peegate."

“Shut it, Omondi. Now spoon me as an apology.” After a few bickering comments back and forth, the tallest agreed and turned on his side to hug the drummer, who in turn held his arms out for Jimmy, who gladly accepted. They were on top of the covers still, but none of them seemed to care as they slotted together and fell asleep.

The next morning, they received their usual Poor Hotel Etiquette lecture from Cecily.

Worth it. 

[aaaarsonist]

I'm totally and completely obsessed with Conan Grey's newest album and I DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND HOW NO ONE IS TALKING ABOUT IT?????

Not just because the album is a fucking masterpiece, or because every song slaps, or because I'm in love with Conan's improvement (HIS VOLCALS OMFG), but because of the fanfic potential.

I'mma leave some fragments of different songs so you understand what I'm talking about.

Shout-out to my soulmate for making me listen to the album <3

There's a God in the sky, don't believe him

Don't be scared, little child, you're no demon

Don't be scared, little child, of that feeling

You're in love, you found heaven

Found Heaven

First, I'll say: I apologize for calling

But I saw your face in a magazine today

Wasn't you, too late

All my tears already falling

Tried to turn the page

But our story wasn't stopping

Never ending song

Dark room, not a whisper, a word

Guess you take all the pain that you think you deserve

Won't sleep 'cause it's easy to hurt tonight, tonight

(…)

White lies from the passenger seat

Say you love me for life, say you'll never leave

Kiss me 'til I almost believe, tonight

Fainted love

We'rе lonely dancers

Join me for thе night

We're lonely dancers, baby

Dance with me so we don't cry

We're lonely dancers

There's no need to hide

I know the answer, baby

Dance with me so we don't cry

(…)

Your lover left you, broke up tonight

My lover's busy kissing other guys, oh

We're both alone now, tears in our eyes

I know the perfect way to waste our time

Lonely dancers

You wrapped your fingers around my neck

And pulled me into your desperate breath

The way you kissed me hot and fast

I knew it'd be the last

(…)

I waited all year at your feet

Like, maybe you'd love me

(…)

And I thanked God to touch the flame

'Cause I swore necks were made for bruising

I swore lips were made for lies

And I thought if you'd ever leave me

That I'd be the reason why

And I don't even care if it's just a summer fling

If it's all experimental and you go back to safer things

But I swore hands were made for fighting

I swore eyes were made to cry

But you're the first person that I've seen

Who's proven that might be a lie

Alley Rose

I believed your lies

Tried to bite back, but I couldn't

I just stood and cried

For the lost time, for the hurtin'

For the love that died

(…)

But all I wanted was the final fight

And all I needed was to make it right

Tonight, there's nothing left to do

But finally tell you what you put me through

(…)

Made a whole new life

I got a bit of distance

Saw the New York lights

And I came right back after growin'

Yet you're still the same

Though it's me who may be broken

It was you to blame

The final fight

The fear of love is my tendency

But I feel it, believe it

I never meant to break your heart

But I lost it like a promise

And left you dancin' in the dark

Miss you

And after all this time, I wonder why you're still with me

Well, at least in all my memories

(…)

You are the reason I learned to love

Also the reason that I cry

Still, I think of all the bloodshed, somehow bittersweet

I'm even smilin' now as I sing

Forever with me

I grab the keys, I scramble to the door

But then I, I hear your heartbeat bleedin' through the floor

The memories that I cannot ignore

Fight for my life inside a silent war

Eye of the night

He wants ya, he wants ya, you don't even see me

She wants ya, she wants ya, there's no point competing

He wants ya, she wants ya, like everyone else in your life

(…)

I want ya, I want ya, I want ya to need me

I need ya, I need ya, I need ya to love me

I want ya, I want ya, like everyone else here tonight

Boys & girls

So you take and you take 'cause you know you can

And I chase as you're chasin' another man

(…)

You're killing me

You're not makin' it easy

Too busy deceivin' and cheatin'

And lyin' and competin'

To know how lucky you are

You're killing me

I just want you to free me

And though I am cryin' and bleedin'

And barely breathin'

I can't let go of your heart

Killing me

Packed my bags at fourteen

I hadn't planned on leaving

But you haven't been back home for days

The pots and pans and roaches

They're glad I'm finally goin'

'Cause, even them, they shudder at your name

(…)

That all you ever want is to be right

Even if that means you gotta lie to do it

(…)

Bask inside your victory

My heart that once was beating

Bleeding in the palm of your hand

Yeah, you have the nerve to miss me

How do I somehow feel guilty

When you're the one who let it get this bad?

Winner

[twosides--samecoin]

also, unsure if you ever read pokemon fic, but if you appreciate music informing the reader of a character's personality and diegetic music, you may enjoy "make you suffer" by girllikesubstance on ao3. i certainly did! it's written like an action movie but with solid characterization; i literally cannot recommend the author's work enough.

Oh, I have not, thank you for the recommendation!

"Diegetic music", for anyone who's never heard of it, refers to any in-universe music or lyric that is interacted with or acknowledged by the characters. The musical episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer is entirely diegetic music, performed by the characters; however the intro theme of that show is not.

I consider music a main character in the fic. It started with choosing song titles for chapters and the fic title, then it snowballed into, "How do I indicate to the reader Music Is Happening in a natural way that doesn't always need me introducing, like, 'a guitar rang out/a solemn voice sang', etc?" How do you solve the characters hearing what the reader can only, well, read? Sure, I have some playlists on Spotify to follow along, but as Marshall McLuhan said, "the medium is the message". It must be clear in the writing that music is playing. A new voice has entered the room.

One of my favourite novels is Ulysses by James Joyce. He had a masterful talent for cacophony and onomatopoeia. Several threads of conversations and voices and thoughts all happening at you on one page. And he just goes for it.

I chose to solve the problem by having my own style guide. Lyrics just happen as though they're a person speaking, they're just italicized to indicate it's a recording. Here's an excerpt of one of the most successful examples of diegetic music I have written in the fic, from the chapter Thunder Road.

The radio DJ’s voice interrupted the silence. “Hi, it’s Delia, we got the weather monitor fixed. It’s only a few degrees below freezing tonight and I’m not in a sour mood anymore, so.. Here’s a favorite, for my favorite. Here’s Thunder Road.”  Olivia’s eyes widened as harmonica and piano played together. She turned towards the radio. “Are you serious right now?”  “What?” RJ asked.  "..The screen door slams, Mary's dress sways. Like a vision, she dances across the porch as the radio plays.." Jack smiled. He knew what this song was about and wondered just how well she knew it. He caught Olivia’s eye as she turned away from the radio. RJ saw Jack’s shit-eating grin and knew it meant he figured something out with her. A smile that could mean he was having fun, or he could checkmate you.  The same glance Olivia and Jack shared about him earlier. "..Roy Orbison singing for the lonely, 'Hey that's me and I want you only,' Don't turn me home again, I just can't face myself alone again.." “I- what, why are you looking at me like that-”  “Good song, huh?” he responded, smiling at her. "..Don't run back inside, darling, you know just what I'm here for.." RJ didn’t quite understand what Jack was getting at. The radio was low enough that he could hear the music, but the lyrics were harder to hear from across the room.  “Bruce fan?” Jack asked her. “Yeah, um.. I like him.” Jack’s heart melted. “My wife, Nora, was a huge fan. We have the first seven albums on one holotape,”  “Wait, no way-”  "..So you're scared, and you're thinking that maybe we ain't that young anymore.." “Yeah, way. How many Bruce albums you got in this vault, huh?”  “I don’t,” Olivia told him, looking almost apologetic. “I only get to hear Bruce when he’s on the radio.” 

[thespiral]

👾 for Fresno! Or if you feel like a different barbie, have at it. I'm ready for the Symbolism and the Themes ´･ᴗ･`

for you my friend. extra barbie on the house.

FRESNO: Bat Out of Hell - Meatloaf

*1,000,000 visitor alarm goes off* OH BABY YOU GOT ONE OF THEM FUNDAMENTAL SONGS. bat out of hell was one of THEE ingredients to make Fresno what they are today even if it was base and not like, the deeply complex disaster they are today along with golden age of leather and power underneath despair böc. but it's still a good way to sort of connect them down to the 80s roots and shit

so bat out of hell is out of a concept album about Guy Who Dies in Motorcycle Crash but nobody said it could be a Metaphysical Guy Who Dies In Motorcycle Crash. this song is bittersweet because it encapsulates what Fresno is down to the tragedy of it all. and it's mwah.

honestly i can see this as like, sort of the Moment it all happens and the repetition of that moment in their story, in my head the foiled escape attempt from either the mojave/prison is sort of like on motorcycle and someone shoots them down, is it ncr? legion? who knows, but there's evil in the air and man with a gun in his eye and a the death of someone in the street. this can be Fresno as an 80s, since the Sac-Town raid was sort of. coming of age as a Man:tm: thing Hellmouth set up for them but also the death of their independent self as they're dragged further into the legion. frogs in a boiling pot.

so it DEFINITELY depends who they're with if the first 4 lines apply because "pure and good and right" LMAO (maybe in his own perspective but shhh) but there's the connection between Fresno and Hell, as a devil and outsider and sinner, out of hell, if you will. and you know, the many meanings of out of hell.

we'll both be so alone. and it's true! even if they are the one that mostly sabotages and breaks it off, that doesn't deny that they'll be so fucking alone when the light of day comes along. nocturnal by need, even. i like the idea of Fresno being partially a mirror of someone's deeply repressed feelings because Fresno allows themself to feel even if some things are off limits because their ass doesn't do introspection but someone so bolted together that they aren't willing to admit to themself that they're lonely? smile

so Fresno returning is a very Strange phenomenon, i haven't had it in mind that they attempted to escape other times in their story but. honestly who knows, maybe they did, maybe a Certain Someone catches up and uses his funny skills to bring them in further. something something fishing metaphor and tiring the prey out. you understand.

i also like the idea of Fresno taking the bait because who else waits for them. who else seems to care about them. haha. hahahha. lmao.

Fresno jetting off from their positions, hitting the highway in the road to destiny in the only way they know how, going upstream. nothing ever grows in this rotting old hole and every person they meet may be stunted and lost and it's not worth to stay with Hell on Wheels, what have they done for them, anyway. maybe they'll be evil if they do, maybe they're doomed to die, but they were taught to be ruthless and fuck they will be ruthless to them as well.

and the scenario repeats almost a decade later and... well.

they'll escape, no matter if their wounds are raw and open and htey're leaving behind something they like, they'll be eaten alive if they stay [which. true, to an extent] but. but.

the moment of hesitation, i can't stop thinking of you, that slight moment of vulnerability that makes them collapse and hit the sudden curve.

it's a moment i've always wanted to illustrate because just. the way it's presented, the way the singer ACKNOWLEDGES that they never see the sudden curve until they're about to crash, that hesitation that leads to the death. MWAH. cinema. and if you, the reader, don't listen to any song but a chunk of one i IMPLORE you to listen to it and skip ahead to 6:10 and listen to that guitar work. THE IMPLIED CRASH!! THE MOTORCYCLE SPINNING OUT OF CONTROL IN GUITAR!!!!! it drives me INSANE every single time. that is todd rundgren's talent for you. i've always wanted to capture that moment because it's just soooo cinematic and the leadup makes me think of someone taking aim before shooting them down

both a near death experience and the death of one aspect to be changed into another. metaphysical death of a bike crash. obviously the result varies on what happens but just like the shock, the experience, seeing yourself out of body being dragged away to be imprisoned [again] and tolling a bell for themself. ough. ough. ough. the tragedy of it all.

what is meant to be cathartic and a release turns into being brought back to hell, endless cycles and their attempts to escape them and all. ough

+ BONUS

AUSTIN: Electric Eye - Judas Priest [old art alert]

i haven't taken him out of the box in a longgg time but fun fact, he was my first courier! way back when i was a little new vegas baby, a new baby if you will, he was supposed to be like this morally good ncr-independent courier who's main goal is Fix the NCR from the inside. obviously i know now that it was an impossible dream but as i've kinda retouched upon it i've turned down his morals and turned up his fanaticism towards the ncr and now he's basically head of Ministry of Propaganda- i mean public relations of ncr.

he's a synth and has a tendency to go full ham in the fanaticism regardless of what he's cheering for, and ended up latching on to the ncr after [i think] being implanted with ncr citizen memories. his main job is mostly spin doctor, trying to make the mojave campaign appealing to brahmin barons and others for funding back in the ncr as kind of a newscast radio guy, i like to think him as a lesser head in the hydra of the ncr but nevertheless still sending out people to die in the desert

i really like the big brother is watching theming because i like to take some cues from cold war-era usa to the ncr because like looking at curtis i think there should be like some kinda paranoia/red scare sentiment back at the ncr and he's just here to be my lore puppet for it

and as a guy literally being in charge of the news, uh, expect a lot of watchful eyes. he's funny because he's kind of more or less literally a terminator but he's just chilling in the hub while others die for his cause and i know i'm heavy handed about it. but!

he certainly keeps his republic clean. smile

[wave2tyun]

I'm here after writing a physical list of songs to reccomend!!😼 I'll start with my n.1 group, Stray Kids!! :D I started listening to them a bit over a year and a half ago but by now my life is consumed by them... 🙃

Here's my (long) list of slay songs! (Do note most of the songs I'm reccomending are very energetic because I'm more drawn to energetic songs, they have lots of songs that are calmer etc, so if you like different kinds of songs you're definitely going to be able to find loads!!)

Noeasy:

-Thunderous (the title track, INCREDIBLE music video‼️)

-Wolfgang (the furry song of the group just like Cat & Dog is for txt👍 their kingdom performance for this is incredible)

-Cheese (song for the haters, it's about cheese though?? Love the wordplay, they're really good at creative lyrics)

-DOMINO (ayy domino😎, we never got the mv for this😔💔)

-Silent Cry (I really love this one, super pretty and cool sounding!!)

-SSick (I'm saur ssick, another banger, I love the instrumental of this lots)

-Red Lights (duet between Hyunjin and Bang Chan, the n.1 sexy song of the group)

ODDINARY:

-Charmer (SUPER banger, the instrumental is crazy good!)

-Venom (I personally think this one is underrated, they once perfirmed this with like a giant spider??? idek anymore)

-Lonely St. (just another great ass song imo💞)

-Muddy water (half the group is in this one and there's another song with the rest, I just happen to like the style of this one better, very different to most of their songs imo)

Maxident:

-Super Board (one of my absolute favorite skz songs of all time, nyoom!! cool music video👍)

-Chill (a sadder song?? on my reccomendation list?? Han Jisung loml writes the best sad songs argue with the wall)

-Taste (another sexy song, oh my god this one is crazy😵)

-Don't stop (a cute almost anime opening sounding duet with the 2 youngest, CUTE!!)

-Case 143 (silly title love song, I reccomend watching all the mvs you can find tbh, they're always really good!!)

In Life:

-Back Door (underappreciated!!!😠 slept on, why didn't people love this more, incredible choreography too!! deserves so much more)

-The Tortoise and the Hare (ages ago people had theories 3racha (the producers of the group) were drunk while making this, I think people just weren't used to songs that were 'different', honestly SUPER cool)

5-star:

-Super Bowl (cooking up a storm peace of cake‼️ this one's in english, first skz album i ever ordered btw)

-ITEM (Banger!!!!! Big Reccomend!! Cool choreography)

-Get Lit (the english translation of the korean title is "let's die" don't let that fool you though, this is a super cool song, my favorite on the album)

-Youtiful (song in english, it's about how beatiful stay (their fandom) is to them, my lovely skz😭)

Rockstar:

-Lalalala (title track of their newest album, super banger, just feel the rock!!)

-Megaverse (welcome to the stray kids hot megaverse, once again... really Really good!!)

-Comflex (my favorite from this album, you can really tell i like more energetic "quick" songs by looking at all my favorites, huh? 😅)

Other:

-God's Menu (pretty much everyone knows this one, the one that blew them up, still incredible after all these years)

-Circus (a song about the circus, goofy and silly but still super good? Love this one💞)

-Christmas EveL (christmas song? similar to Circus, goofy but unnecessarily good... Feliz Navidad Feliz Navidad, I can feel the evil coming but Felix never bad😎)

Lmao anyway that was my list, watch mvs if you're interested, I'll do Ateez later!!

Also I haven't listened to a lot of earlier music yet so there's definitely lots of other good songs that are just waiting to be discovered😁 Hope you enjoy Alex dear💞💞 sorry it's so long...

-🐾

my dearest comforting kitty anon you are TOO CUTEEEEEE!!!!!🥹🥹🥹💓💖💓💘💞💘💖 i might????? cry??????????😞😞😞 i absolutely love how you wrote down the respective albums for each song PLUS the little comments you wrote for them??????? i put them all in a playlist in this same order😼😼💞 (the 2 kitties in the pic are you and me btw<3) and i'll make sure to check out some mvs too cause i think i've only ever seen like 3 of them!! :00 hellevator is one of them i actually watched it when it first came out😳 time really flies cause omg it's actually been so many years since then??

thank you so much for taking your time to write this list for me i really appreciate it!!! :(((((💓💖💘💞💓💞💘 i'll make sure to let you know my thoughts + favorites and omg i'll look forward to the ateez one as well!! :DD<33

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 • eddie munson x reader

sequel to 𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗲

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 • far too long after your rendezvous with that cute groupie you couldn't get out of your head, you finally make good on your promise to call.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 • 4k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 • smut (18+ only), phone sex, m and f masturbation, discussions of oral f and m receiving and penetrative sex, subby eddie, pillow humping (kinda), fluff, pining, some angst, lots of dirty talk

Your manager was the one who convinced you to get a cell phone.  It was a luxury item, it was a status symbol— it was bulky and heavy and you barely used it.  She was still the only person who called you on it!

And you'd never even placed a call from the brick before, not in the first three months of owning it.

But, it's usefulness became more apparent when you were stuck on the tour bus, up later than usual, horribly bored.  Not just bored, but… lonely, to put it nicely.

Your mind ran through some people you could call to take care of this problem, but it's not like anyone could get on the bus with you when you were going 75 miles an hour through the California desert.

That's when you remembered someone else; someone you'd never really forgotten.

Rolling on your side on the bed, you slid open your bedside drawer and searched until you found a folded up piece of paper.  You opened it and beamed as you saw the numbers written in messy, boyish scrawl, snatching the phone so you could punch it in.

You held it to your ear as it rang, anticipation building.

"Hello?"

You smiled as you heard the familiar voice, blurting out, "Eddie?"

The next pause was so long that you almost worried you'd accidentally called the wrong number, but he finally broke it.  "You know how long I've been waiting for you to call?" he laughed breathlessly.

"Sorry for the suspense, kid," you smiled.  "Got busy."

"That new album— wow," he began immediately.  "I was worried when you put out a ballad as a single, but damn— it was such a good record!"

"The label picks the singles," you explained.

"You just keep getting better," he sighed.  "You're incredible."

"You flatter me," you cooed.

"How've you been?!" he asked excitedly.

"Uh, you know, the usual.  We're doing a tour in Europe this time, kinda crazy," you hummed.

"Tell me all about it!" he encouraged.

"Oh, it's boring," you dismissed.

"No, seriously, I have a geography final tomorrow."

You laughed.  "I forgot how funny you are."

"Well, I try…"

"And I forgot how sexy your voice is."

He paused for a second.  "Oh, you think so?"

"Are you alone?"

"Y-yeah, whole place to myself," he agreed.

"Good.  Because I want you to say some things to me that I don't need anybody else hearing."

You could all but hear his shiver, and you grinned.  "Okay," he said shakily.

"Do you still jerk off to my poster?" you asked, point-blank.

"Yes," he answered instantly.

"Tell me how you do it," you instructed.  "Tell me what you think about."

"Uh, fuck," he stalled as you slipped your hand into your panties.  You were already just a little wet from hearing him talk at all.  "I mean, like, how I do it physically?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Well, when I'm thinking about you I get hard in a half second… so I just lay in my bed and look at it— your poster is right on the other wall.  And I get it out of my jeans and start stroking my dick."

"You don't use lotion?"

"Only when I'm feeling… extravagant."

You smiled.  "And, not to be too cliched here, but what are you wearing?"

"Well, uh," he stammered, "I run this club at my school?  And we make— I make— shirts for everybody.  So I'm wearing mine.  And my leather jacket, and some ripped jeans."

"Sounds cute," you smiled.  "This club, it's not the I fucked a celebrity club or anything, is it?"

"N-no, it's just a club for Dungeons and Dragons."

"Oh right— that, uh, Satanic game," you nodded.

"Oh!  It's not actually Satanic," he corrected, "it's just an immersive roleplaying experience where you roll dice and you can do basically anything you want.  It's a fantasy game!"

"Oh," you frowned, "I think I liked it better when I thought it was Satanic."

He snorted a laugh.  "But you probably don't wanna hear about that.  You could always, uh, tell me what you're wearing?"

"Gonna be a pretty short list," you warned.  "I've only got my underwear on."

"O-oh, shit," he hissed, "that's hot."

It was only because you'd stripped out of your performance wear and got too lazy to put pajamas on.

"It would be even hotter if you didn't have anything on," Eddie added, and you laughed but respected his boldness.

"Not while you're still totally clothed, pretty boy," you cooed. 

"Well I can get naked in, like, ten seconds," he offered.

"Oh, I'm sure," you grinned, "but not yet.  I want you to just touch yourself through your jeans first."

"You… huh?" he mumbled.

"I'm sure you've got a nice bulge going," you assumed, "just rub your dick through your jeans— get even harder for me."

"O-oh, fuck," he groaned.  "Okay, I'm doing it…"

"Does that feel good?" you pressed.

"Not good enough," he whined.  "Obviously I don't usually tease myself this much."

"Well, this will be a fun new experience for you," you decided.  "I'm teasing myself too, if that makes you feel any better.  I'm playing with my clit really slow and gentle…"

"Fuck," he grunted, "you sh-should play with your tits, too."

"Yeah? I was thinking about licking my fingers and running them around my nipples, what do you think?"

"I think if those are the fingers that were just on your pussy, then that's really fucking sexy," he replied.

"They are," you promised, and he growled through his teeth.

"God, do it, I wanna hear it," he encouraged.

Pulling your hand out from your panties and bringing it to your tongue, you wet your fingertips and circled your hardening nipples one at a time.  Your moan was totally natural, and louder than you expected.

"You sound so pretty," he praised, "I— god, I'm squeezing my bulge way too hard and it's not even helping.  I need to be in you right now."

"I'd be so much louder if you were," you imagined, shutting your eyes, picturing him above you again.

"God, please, I'm so hard," he whimpered.  "It fucking hurts, I need to—"

"Get it out, Eddie," you offered, and you heard him sigh so hard it was almost a moan as the sound of fabric shuffling came through the line.  At the same time, you put your hand in your panties again, biting your lip while you rubbed your clit properly.

"Can I jerk off?" he asked dutifully, and you grinned.

"No, right now I just want you to rub it on something," you decided.  "Is there anything in your room that's as soft as me?"

"Fuck no," he sighed, "for that to be true there'd have to be a girl in here."

"Have there, uh, been any girls in your room since you last saw me?"

There was a pause, and it made your heart catch.  "Don't tell me you're jealous," he realized, lowering his voice in a way that made you shudder.

"So what if I am?  I wish you were all mine, pretty boy— nobody else should get to feel that perfect cock of yours…"

He laughed a little.  "Well, there have been a couple girls since you rocked my world in that bus, darling," he admitted.  "But they were nothing compared to you."

It still made your jaw clench angrily.  He shouldn't have told you— you were going to go harder on him now.  "Come on, Eddie, something to rub your cock on, I don't have all night here."

"Okay, well, there's… something here…"

You raised an eyebrow.  "And what would that be?"

"Um… you remember when I used your extremely tiny bathroom before I left?" he mumbled, and you grinned.

"Yeah…?"

"Well, there was a shirt on the floor— a black one?  I guess you changed out of it that day but, uh… I might have… taken it."

You smiled wide, feeling your cunt pulse as you imagined him that desperate.  "Naughty," you scolded.

"It was this old KISS shirt and it smelled like you— and I actually sprayed it with your perfume while I was in there too and… there's still a little bit of your scent left on it.  I get rock hard every time I smell it."

"Then rub your cock on it.  Put it on your bed and hump it like the needy boy you are, hm?"

"Sh-shit," he groaned, and you heard the bed creaking under his weight.  "Fuck, it's— god, you're so— shit."

You grinned playfully at his obvious disdain for the teasing, but he was helpless to you now.  "Keep going, do it just how you would fuck me," you encouraged, "give that shirt the night of its life, Eddie."

"Ohhh baby," he whined.  "Fuck, I'm so fuckin' hard… I-I'm leaking…"

"Hm, wish I could lick that up for you," you cooed, laughing when he moaned loudly.

"You're so dirty," he groaned, "the things you say— oh my god—"

"I just like driving you crazy," you admitted.

"Yeah?  It's working," he sighed.

"Are you still humping the shirt, Eddie?"

"Yeah, how I'd fuck you, like you said," he agreed.  "I'm giving it, uh, long strokes— that's what made you moan the loudest, before.  And you liked it when I went really deep."

"Yeah," you agreed, back longing to arch hearing him talk like that.  "I liked feeling your cock all the way inside— I was afraid at first that you wouldn't fit…"

"Y-you're making that up," he coughed.

"No, really, I wasn't sure I could take it…"

"Well, fuck, you did," he sighed, "you took it so well— all of me, all of my… big c-cock…"

"Uh huh," you agreed coyly.  "You're good at this, Eddie, you're making me jealous of my own fucking shirt."

"Don't make me come on it," he whimpered, "cause then I'll have to wash it and your smell will be gone— please, it's all I've got left of you."

Ouch.  Leave it to him to drop those little heartbreakers when you were trying to be sexy.

"You don't need to come on it, in fact you can stop humping it altogether," you decided.  "Stroke that pretty cock for me Eddie, I wanna hear you moan."

It was so loud, poor baby, he was so sensitive.  "Thank you," he choked out, and your heart twisted.

"Just think about how much better it would feel if it was me instead of your hand."

"So much better, god, fuckin' perfect," he whined.

You smiled to yourself.  "Do you miss my pussy?" 

"So much— I always think about it when I do this."

"She's so wet for you right now," you taunted, making him groan.

"God, what I would give to slide right into your wet little hole, let you feel this cock stretch you out— I wanna feel you cream on me again."

"Uh huh?  What else do you want?"

"I want— I want you to suck me off again, your mouth felt fucking amazing," he added.

"Anything else?"

"A-and I wish I'd gotten a chance to eat you out when we were together— I would've loved making you come on my tongue.”

“Well,” you smirked, “I certainly wouldn’t have minded that…”

“Yeah?  Then maybe I would’ve made you come twice,” he purred, “again.”

“Bet you’re still real proud of that,” you giggled.

“Proud is an understatement— I’m waiting for my trophy any day now,” he corrected.  “Shit, and making you come with my head between your thighs?  Holding your hips so I can keep you just where I want you?  Tasting how bad you need me?”

You moaned as you rubbed your clit harder and faster, your hips starting to rock on their own as your pleasure grew.

“Fuck, do that again,” he grunted.  “Moan for me again.”

You couldn’t exactly force it to happen, but you did slide two fingers into yourself— just to feel full for a moment— and your next sound was lower and needier.  “God, I miss your cock,” you admitted with a sigh.

“Just say the word, I swear on my life I’d be driving across the country to see you,” he sighed.

“But you can’t miss that— ah, fuck— that geography final,” you purred, making him laugh.

“Guess not,” he agreed.  “F-fuck, I’m close…”

“Good,” you praised, “I’m so hot imagining you coming right now— making a nice big mess, jerking your thick cock, listening to me, picturing us together again—”

“Tell me it’s gonna happen,” he groaned, “‘cause fuck, babe— I dunno how I’m supposed to go on knowing it was just one night.”

You raised an eyebrow.  “Shouldn’t you be happy with just one night?  That’s more than most people get.”

He paused.  “I should be, yeah, but m’not.  It was too good for just once— the way I feel about you, I can’t be happy with just once,” he admitted with a heavy sigh.  “If you weren’t gonna make me yours, you should’ve never touched me.”

As fucked up as it was, you nearly came when he said that— but you managed to hold back.  Not because you got off to sad things, but because you felt the exact same fucking way.  “You’re mine, Eddie,” you breathed.  “Mine— fucking mine.”

“Oh god,” he whined, “I-I’m gonna come.  Fuck.  Please…”

“Come for me, Eddie,” you ordered, but he surprised you by disobeying (for now).

"I-I want you to come when I come," he pleaded.

"No, then I won't be able to focus on how cute you sound," you laughed.  "I need to listen closely so I can imagine you're pumping that huge load into me instead."

"Fuck," he groaned.  "That's what I'm imagining too.  It felt so good to come inside you…"

"I loved all that jizz dripping out of me for the rest of the night," you recalled, "it felt so dirty but I fuckin' loved it."

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," he whimpered.

"After you left, I tasted it," you admitted.

"Oh fuck!" he said again, yelping. "I-I'm gonna come, I'm so close, just— just tell me somethin'."

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me you really care about me."

You gasped slightly.  "Eddie, I…"

You surprised yourself when you realized what you were about to say.  I'm falling for you.  You tried to think of what else you could say, something that would be true and satisfy him without giving yourself away entirely.  I think sometimes you're the only one who ever loved me for who I am.  I miss you so much that I can't bring myself to call because I'll miss you more.  I get scared because I worry you'd hate me if you knew me better.  I regret letting you go even though I know it was right.

"I meant what I said before," you offered instead.  "I need you."

"I— oh god— I need you too," he whimpered.  "I'm gonna come, fuck fuck fuck!"

His high pitched whines dropped to a low, deep groan as he came— abrupt, choking sorts of moans that made it so easy to imagine every pump of hot come he was coating his bed with.

"Oh my god," he sighed, "fuck, I just… I came everywhere.  Fuck."

He let out a breathless laugh and it was the sweetest thing you'd heard all day.

"I… I have no idea how to clean this up," he realized.  "B-but you still need to come, right?  Just tell me what you wanna hear, you can get off to my voice."

"I want to hear you beg," you decided.

"I— god, I'll try," he offered.  "Uh, please?  Please come…"

"Good start," you egged him on.

"I… I want you to," he kept going.  "I wanna hear it, and I can imagine that I'm licking your cunt while you do it."

Fuck, he's not bad.  "I'm close," you whispered, "Eddie, I'm close— just keep going…"

"Please, please," he whimpered, "let me hear it, come for me— I know you'll sound so damn good… please just come, I want you to feel as good as I do— you deserve to feel so good…"

You gasped as it hit you, a sharp stab of pleasure that made your fingers nearly cramp up— but thankfully they didn’t, and you were able to keep pushing yourself further and further into it.

“Fuck, s’good, you’re so good,” he praised, “you sound just like I remember— except, you know, you were louder with me.”

You smiled as you started to come down, hips bucking weakly while a wave of numbness settled over you.  “Damn,” you laughed breathlessly, hearing Eddie laugh too.  “I’ve actually never done that before.  Phone sex— not masturbating, that I’m very familiar with.”

“I’m kind of surprised,” he replied.

“You thought I would’ve had phone sex by now?” you assumed.

“No— the masturbating thing,” he corrected, “I mean, you’re a superstar!  You could just have this, like, endless line of guys who wait for you to get horny and you could have sex whenever you want.”

“Uh huh, endless line of guys?” you repeated, sinking into the sheets a little deeper— that relaxation that could only come in those ‘after’ moments only enhanced by talking with Eddie.  He seemed to put you at ease so naturally.  “I don’t have room for many more people in this bus.”

“Okay, then just one guy,” he added, his grin audible even through the layer of static.  “One super cool, curly-haired, educationally-challenged metalhead guy!”

“Hm, he sounds like a lot of fun,” you considered, “and I do like the idea of getting laid every day.”

“Every—” he choked, starting over again as his voice cracked.  “Every day?”

“What, worried you can’t keep up?” you smirked.

“Oh— no, that is… so not my problem,” he sighed, and you laughed.  “I’m just dying a little inside because you’re calling me from heaven and I’m stuck in hell— which has been going by Hawkins, Indiana for the past several years.”

You smiled, softer than before.  “I’ll send you a postcard.  Wish you were here.”

“Yeah…”

The silence wasn’t quite awkward… it was comfortable, but somber, too.

“It’s too bad your tour didn’t stop in Indiana this time,” he finally blurted out.  

“Oh, Eddie— I really tried,” you promised, sitting up.  “But the venue changed their price, and the label wasn’t pleased, and I argued about it but—”

“Hey,” he interrupted with a laugh, “it’s fine.  I’m a big kid, I can handle it.”

You sighed.  “I know.”

“And I’ll wait for you,” he promised.  “As long as you need.”

“Funny,” you laughed, “I always thought I was the one waiting on you.”

“Waiting on me to do what?” he wondered.

“Graduate!”

“Right,” he chuckled thinly, “that’s what everybody’s waiting on me to do.  But I seriously don’t know if I can pass Ms. O’Donnell’s class.”

You sighed, shifting onto your side as you slipped under your covers; that orgasm took you out, and it was already later than you would normally go to sleep.  “Tell me about it,” you offered.

“Well,” he sighed, “first of all, she assigns so much reading— and reading kinda gives me a headache…”

He talked for a while about it, venting about his issues, about the jocks in his class that bully him, about the teachers who didn’t really believe in him.

You listened, eyes getting heavier, the sound of his voice like a comfort for your mind similar to the blanket that was draped over your body.  “And don’t even get me started on Mr. Young’s math class…”

“Eddie?” you interrupted.

“Huh?” he mumbled.  “Oh, fuck, was I rambling again.”

“No, no, it was fine,” you promised, “I’m just getting pretty tired…”

“Oh… okay,” he offered.

“Will you stay on the line until I fall asleep?” you requested hesitantly.

“O-oh!  Yeah, sure,” he agreed.  

You couldn’t be sure how long he stayed on after you drifted off, soothed by the fuzzy sound of the silence over the phone— you had no way of knowing that he stayed on for hours and just listened to your breathing, hoping to hear you whisper or mumble to yourself, smiling when you snored for a minute.

All you knew was that when you woke up, there was a dial tone in your ear.

You hung up and put the phone away, its battery nearly drained, and snuggled yourself back into the sheets for a few more hours— hopefully able to continue your dream where it left off.

You called again a few months later, from what was technically your home phone— but the LA mansion never really felt like home.

An older, rougher voice answered after five or six rings.  "Hello?"

"Um, is Eddie there?" you asked.

"No," the man answered flatly.

"Will… he be back soon?"

"Considering he doesn't live here anymore, I'm figurin' not."

"O-oh…"

"Who's callin'?" 

"Uh, just an old friend.  He's not… in jail or anything, is he?"

The man laughed heartily.  "Amazingly, no.  He moved to Indianapolis after he graduated—"

You interrupted with a beaming smile: "He graduated?"

"Yes ma'am, and he even got a few As on his final report card," he explained proudly.  

You opened your mouth to ask for another way to reach Eddie now— a new number, maybe an address, but you suddenly stopped.  He finally did it, he escaped.  And he did it without you.

Maybe he needed to move on; really, it sounded like he already had.

Now that he was out of school he might ask to join you on tour like you promised over a year ago.  It would break your heart to have to say no to him— if you could find the strength to.  Worse, you were terrified that he wouldn't ask to be with you, that he'd be content without you… which simultaneously is what you wanted, and what you feared most.

You didn't want to know, was the main thing.  You didn't want to find out the hard way that he didn't need you anymore.

"Listen, uh, next time you see him, just tell him to take care, okay?" you requested.

"Sure, can I get a name with that message?" the man pressed.

You wouldn't believe me if I told you.  "You don't have to say it's from me," you decided.  "Just tell him on my behalf, is all."

"O…kay…" he replied, confused.  "I will."

You thanked him and hung up, looking around the empty house— someone else decorated it, and it looked good, but it was too empty and clean, too sterile.  Why even have all this space if you had nothing to fill it with but noise.

Noise, that’s what you needed right now; you went upstairs to grab your guitar, suddenly realizing you had a new song to write.

part 3

[defdaily]

‪[TRANSLATION] Arena Homme+ Magazine April 2021 Issue featuring JAY B

Translated by defdaily.

JAY B is free and starting again from scratch. That is what JAY B has in mind. GOT7’s leader announced that he would be leaving JYPE as the group stays together. JAY B is preparing to debut as a solo musician while planning to also release mixtapes and hold exhibitions as Def. We had a chat with JAY B, who has gained more freedom and strength, at the swimming pool about courage, depression, literature and aspirations.

Did you come here alone?

Yes. I took a taxi here. I was the type to go around freely even when I was in JYPE but catching the taxi to work this time around felt new.

All GOT7 members decided to leave JYP but stay together as a group. As a leader, you needed to make a decision, right?

Although we ended up leaving JYPE, we wanted to continue as GOT7. We all agreed to leave [JYPE] and try it between ourselves.The product made from me taking responsibility/taking charge was the single 'Encore’ that was released not too long ago. I was involved in the whole process with a new record label. I was happy to see a good response [to the single]. It was lacking in some areas but I was just very proud that we were able to show a different step. Since we showed through this single that “we did not disband”, what’s next is more important. When we left JYPE, Director Jung Wook mentioned "Your role as a leader starts now." I'm realizing it now.

”I wanted to learn everything about the process of releasing an album and how difficult it is. I wanted to start again from scratch.”

Your role as a leader actually starts now.

I used to find the role of a leader burdensome at times but now I feel a greater sense of responsibility. While supporting each person’s journey, I thought I needed to be the one to step up once we got back together. We also talk regularly in our group chat. Not long ago, Jackson went to China. When Mark went to the USA, I could see him off but when Jackson was leaving, we couldn’t be together because of a schedule. So I told him to have a safe flight, apologised for not being able to see him off and thanked him too. He replied saying he’ll take care and be back.

What motivated you to leave the large agency you've been working with for a long time?

The thought came to mind suddenly as we were promoting as GOT7. Am I taking all these benefits I get for granted? When a schedule is released I just do it, and when they ask me to confirm things I do, but what kind of long process has it gone through before it came to me? Who sends a request and how is it processed? Why am I only waiting until it reaches me and simply watching it unfold? I wanted to be directly involved in that process. I wanted to learn everything about the process of releasing an album and how difficult it is. I want to be humble and start from the bottom again.

Didn't you need the courage?

Of course I did. I was also afraid. My position has risen to all the way up here, but when it comes to my actual knowledge, I think I'm only down there. I was afraid that the difference would feel too big once I left the company. But I think I would have been more afraid if I stayed at JYPE. Since that difference would have grown bigger and bigger. My real self is here, so I should face it head-on a little faster. That's what I thought.

As JAY B or as Def. who releases mixtapes and holds exhibitions, you must have had the desire to do something new.

I want to do research and build it up step by step without haste. JAY B will show hip hop and RnB music that appeals to the general public and Def. will do activities that Def. wants to do. It could be mixtapes or exhibitions, or other different kinds of fictions. Def. is the nickname I used as a bboy before I became a trainee. It’s like air floating about freely. It could be house or soul or acoustic or even modern rock. In a way, you can say that Def. is close to my “main self” but since I debuted as JAY B, I’ll also show a devoted side of myself through JAY B. I want to be a person who can do both what he has to do and what he wants to do freely.

Listening to your mixtapes, and hearing that you like the styles of D’Angelo and Ray Charles, you seem to be attached to the Southern US rhythm and blues and soul music.

I do like them a lot. I like the entire hip-hop culture that originated from there. That culture also includes DJing, graffiti and even bboying. Since I started as a bboy, I would look up older videos to watch, study the culture and also look into what each dance move symbolizes, with my bboying crew and that's how I became fascinated. What captivated me the most was their obstinacy. I felt respect towards the conviction and obstinacy they carried with their culture.

Is that mood still incorporated in your music and dance?

Yes. For example, I don’t think choreography is dance. I think dancing is when music plays and you like the rhythm and start humming and bobbing your head and moving your body. I think dancing is a free act you do out of enjoyment.

What was the reason you joined an idol group after starting out as a bboy?

I gained an interest in music too, not just dancing. When I was young, I listened to D’Angelo’s music and wanted to become a singer like him. But I was rebellious when I first joined JYPE. Haha. I was even suspended for a month once as a trainee. I definitely said hello but they said I didn’t so they said "If you're going to be stubborn, then go home" and me with my young heart replied “Then I shall head home.” and left. Then I met up with my bboying crew after a long time, and in just a few months it turned into a different world. The crew members were above me and I was worried because I could feel myself far away by myself. Should I go back to bboying? Should I continue as a trainee? In the end, I wanted to do my very best in whatever I chose so I decided to focus on becoming a singer. Since I wanted to do music, it was a choice I made with no regrets.

You started as a dancer and ended up as a main vocalist. What was music to you back then?

It was a challenge. Trainees are divided into singing and dancing. I joined as a dancer but what I wanted to do was become a singer and not just do dance. But since I was put into the dancing division, I worked even harder with singing to break that prejudice. I often felt defeated. I still feel defeated with singing. Haha. But music is about endless research. Now it’s more about research than studying.

You grew up as an only child to your parents who did farming?

I was an ordinary kid. I enjoyed Haruki’s Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage and thought the “colourless” kid was just like me. I was a calm kid who helped his parents with their farm work. I don’t know if it’s because I don’t have any older siblings but they said I used to talk to myself a lot. My mother said there was a way she would know if I was home or not. If I was home, she would hear me talk to myself and be like “Oh really?” “Yes really” haha.

It’s extraordinary to read Haruki at that age.

There was an older friend that I knew and he was really cool. He looked really cool reading on the bus with his legs crossed. He said “Hey, Read a book and build up some knowledge.” As I was trying to be cool like him, I gained a favourite author and started reading more since I enjoyed it.

What kind of books do you like?

When I was a teenager I often read Kafka On The Shore. It felt like Kafka was just like me, and so while reading it, I even cried. The style of Murakami Radio was also interesting. The ending phrase “But I like that more…” was very witty. I’m collecting books from secondhand bookstores from authors who won the Young Author awards. I like Lee Jang-wook's short story Byeon Hee-bong. The main character knows the actor Byun Hee-bong, but the world doesn't know him. He would ask "Don't you know Byun Hee-bong from the movie The Host?" But no one knows. I like stories that don’t intend to be funny but they end up making me giggle.

What do you read these days?

I try to read poetry. I purchased and read the first volume that appeared on Moonji’s Poetry Collection, but it has too many Hanja characters. Haha. I started with Munhwak’s Poetry Collection. I have volumes 1 to 85. I also read poet Park Joon's collection of poems and poet Lee Eun-gyu's Affectionate Name. I even underlined and wrote things down.

Among the idols and musicians I’ve met, I think you are the most extensive reader.

We went on tours often and we would have a lot of time in my hotel room. When I went out I took pictures and when I stayed in my hotel room I read books. When I go on an overseas tour, I pack around 30 books in my suitcase. Then I bring back the books that left an impression on me, and those that didn’t sometimes I dispose of them there. These days, I look for independent publications too. I often look for independent publishing bookstores in Nakseongdae or Haebangchon. There are many books that contain honest stories that are not refined, and the power of those sentences is great.

How does reading influence your work?

The poetic expressions with poetic license help when writing lyrics. You read a new sentence and think “What is this expressing?” You receive inspiration from that image being expressed in a new way. I think of lyrics as poetry too. There are times I write how I feel honestly, but when I want to include a certain meaning I’d want to write the lyrics like poetry.

In your photo exhibition <ALONE> last year, you took pictures of objects and signs in the middle of the road.

Wouldn't it feel very lonely if you think about it from an object’s point of view? The camera captures just an instance but the object will stay there. I think each person has an insatiable loneliness. I like the artist Seonglib’s works, and I feel loneliness in his drawings. I don't know why I keep talking about loneliness, I guess I’m familiar with loneliness.

Seems like you take more pictures of objects and landscapes than people.

I don’t really like taking pictures of people. You can clearly see a person’s emotions in their eyes. I prefer hiding things rather than revealing them too much. I prefer objects, backgrounds, and natural objects rather than subjects that openly express 'It's me!'. Tranquil things, I like when you go past something and go “that’s how it was.” I try my best since my job requires being presented to people but that’s also how I am.

Who do you like as a movie director?

I like Woody Allen’s directing. My favourite is Match Point. It's a love story that goes beyond taboos, and it's electrifying. The face of the actor who secretly asks the reunited lover to give him her number remains in my memory for a long time. How could he direct such a real-looking, raw look in their eyes? When I was a theater and film major, I used to take directing classes rather than acting. If I were to direct a film, I would like to shoot an eccentric witty romantic comedy like Love Fiction directed by Jeon Gye-soo.

Are you self-conscious as an artist?

I’m interested in a variety of genres, and interact with crews often, but I think goofing off just because they are an artist is an arrogant attitude. Everyone is their own artist, no matter what they do, right? I'm not trying to be pretentious, I just think there's a difference in expression, and people who work in the office are also doing their own art. That’s why I’m a little shy about the title “artist.” Is there a need to be puffed up with pride because I’m an artist? I’m just a person.

While filming for “What's in my bag” and revealed your medications for depression and panic disorder. When did you face your depression?

I didn’t know I had depression. I thought I was being weak for a short while and let it pass. But on an occasion I got examined and found out I had depression. They asked how I lived by without going to the psychiatrist. I said I just thought I was the type to feel blue. Haha. I’m the type that doesn’t show [what is wrong] but they said I was in a state where I needed treatment. After going to counselling and taking medications, I’m much better now.

“I just wanted to talk about it. It may not show, but depression is both a common and dangerous illness.”

I think you’re cool for having the courage to talk about this.

I got diagnosed and looked at the people around me. There are friends who are ashamed of it and try to hide it, and there are friends who talk about it as if it’s insignificant. I just wanted to talk about it. It may not show, but it’s both a common and dangerous illness. A mental illness is an illness too. Among my fans, or those who read this interview, if there is someone who feels depressed, don’t be ashamed of it and I hope you receive treatment and overcome it. It’s not an embarrassing thing and it doesn’t need to be hidden. And I was filming content where I show what’s inside my bag; I can’t lie. I wish everyone would be healthy.

Are you bad at lying?

Yes. If I have to tell a lie, I think it’s just better to not say anything. Since I’m the type that’s honest and straightforward, I also don’t like beating around the bush.

Can you share a way one can take a step forward towards recovering from depression?

Look at the world in a broad view. Know that there are many places you haven’t been to yet and there are many things you haven’t felt yet. It's also good to take a walk and go off your usual route and take a path you've never been on. Small adventures can also be of great help. Just by leaving the house you’re already halfway there. I think there are more ways you can refresh yourself outside rather than inside. Also, I thought I was an honest person but after being diagnosed with depression, I thought I should be more honest with myself and more faithful to myself. At times like this, think of yourself before others.

What do you believe in?

I just believe in god. I don’t have a religion. I don’t know what kind of existence god is but I do believe that there is a god. When I’m thankful or am having a hard time, I pray. “Thank you.” “Please let me get through this wisely.”

What is the greatest motivation that moves you?

As long as I’m alive, I want to continue doing work that will leave a message. I believe that there is no next life. I think I should live this time diligently to the fullest. To have no regrets.

Translated by defdaily.

[alottanothing]

Kismet

Summary: Evie prepares a meal for the stranger who helped her and finds herself more than a little smitten.

Previous Part: Hope

Word Count: 5707

Warnings: Language

Tag List: @ramilicious, @txmel, @edteche2, @gloriousdarkangelsworld, @diasimar, @xmxisxforxmaybe (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: Okay, I almost didn't get this up today because I was up most of the night sewing kilts for Highland Weekend at the Ohio Renfiare. BUT I stayed awake and did my final read-through, so this should be mostly okay. I skipped a couple steps in my editing to get this up on time but I think, for the most part, it's okay. If you see a grammatical booboo, just ignore it, I'll get in here sometime this week with my other two editing steps and find it, then repost this. Capisce? Okay, cool...now. I hope you enjoy it, I also hope my trying to phonetically write Mer's accent doesn't get too annoying. I know you really shouldn't write accents, but I think it helps add to the characters. And I do try to keep it to a minimum so it doesn't get annoying. Thanks for the love the first part received last month! I know waiting so long between updates is a bit sad after weekly updates with LtR. But life is busy right now and once a month is all can guarantee.

Jonny did not know how to keep a house.

In fact, Jonny did not know how to do much more than drink, argue, and get into fights. He was nothing but a thorn in Evie's side—never mind how much she needed him for a place to lay her head. A necessary thorn was still a thorn. Given the opportunity, she would rip it out as soon as she could and dress the wound promptly so she was finally able to heal better. She stayed only because she had no other choice. And every time Jonny raised his voice or stumbled in reeking of alcohol and red-faced, Evie could hear her best friend's warning in her head. Cynthia had begged her not to go with him, but she hadn't listened.

Oh, how she wished she had.

Luckily, Jonny wasn't the kind of man who liked to stay home which eased the ache of the ever-present thorn in her side. Whatever money he did have, he spent out on the town—the town being New Orleans. Like Evie, Jonny had been born and raised in the Big Apple, the noise and the chaos was part of him. As such, he hadn't taken to the quiet suburban life Bridge City offered as well as Evie. She liked the quiet, easy flow of the sleepy town. Her housemate loathed his new home. He thrived in disarray, thus, he found a group of like-minded young men to run amok with in the neighboring metropolis every chance he got.

If Jonny had been any sort of amicable company, the notion of him leaving most every night to wreak havoc several miles away would have been upsetting. Thankfully, his penchant for city life meant a good portion of Evie's days were spent out from under Jonny's tyranny. The hours he was gone were blissful and calm, and she relished in them. Whether she was creating art or tending to chores around the old house, Evie didn't care as long as Jonny wasn't there—never mind how lonely the routine often was.

Evie had never gotten the chance to meet Jonny's maternal grandmother, though she suspected she would have liked to. Unlike her grandson, she seemed like any other sweet elderly woman judging by the furnishings she'd left behind. There were dozens of lace doilies, and table cloths with soft patterns, decretive china even, but it was the plethora of photos the old woman kept that told Evie she'd carried a kindly heart. All of them were kept in pristine albums or intricate frames; they were the only barbles that seemed to have been cleaned or dusted with any regularity which spoke of how much she must have treasured them. Evie loved those tiny trinkets and black and white memories. It didn't matter that they were not her legacy of family heirlooms to keep, she adored them anyway.

She couldn't count the number of times she'd replaced a broken frame that had fallen victim to Jonny's drunken belligerence or scrubbed tirelessly at a stain he'd left on the patterned tablecloths. It proved to be a hefty undertaking, but dwelling in the fantasies of someone else's history let her forget the grief of her own. She was willing to sacrifice a little elbow grease if it allowed her mind to roam away from the shadow that never really seemed to vanish.

For all the effort Evie put in on the interior, the cottage held little in the way of curb appeal. The porch was sunken in the middle, the paint was peeling off in chunks, and the yard was mostly weeds. Worst, however, was the screen door which squeaked so loudly, every dog in the neighborhood howled in protest every time someone crossed the threshold. The outside needed love that Evie simply didn't have the energy to lend. Despite the grit, however, the foundations were sturdy enough that she didn't worry. The cottage proved to be stronger than she looked—a feat Evie felt she had in common with the old house. And while it was a swell enough place to rest her head, it never truly felt like home. Home was somewhere safe, and as long as Jonny lived under that roof she wasn't safe. Not really.

Fortunately, Jonny wasn't home when Evie returned after her run-in with Mr. Shelton—Mer, she corrected herself with a hint of a giddy smile. Without her housemate there, her evening promised to be hopeful instead of lonely, and she wasted no time in figuring out what to make for dinner.

With her red pumps replaced by her worn-in slippers and her blue checkered apron secured around her waist, she set a pot of water to boil and dialed the phone conveniently located in the kitchen. Every evening she called her sister-in-law to pass the time and keep up on unimportant gossip back home; this time, however, Evie was excited to finally have some good news to share.

"You got the job, didn't you?" Cynthia Clarke asked on the other end, sounding hopeful. "I knew you would."

Evie grinned, still amazed how the sound of Cyn's voice always seemed to settle some of the ever-present anxieties buzzing in her head. She missed her friend so much.

"I didn't even say yes."

"Did you or did you not get the job?" Cynthia pressed.

"I did," Evie confirmed and her smile grew hearing her friend cheer on the other end of the phone.

"See! I knew it." Cynthia said. "My gut feeling is always right."

Evie rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly.

"I think I'm gonna like working there too, so that's good." she mused as she stood at the stove, eyeing the pot of water she’d set to boil.

"That's so great, Ev. I'm so proud of you." Cynthia paused before continuing. "So, what are you up to tonight? Avoiding Jonny?"

"Sorta," Evie nodded even though she knew her friend wouldn't see.

As she continued to watch her cooking pot of water she told Cynthia all about her trouble with Jonny's car and the man who'd been so kind to help her.

"Wait. You invited the stranger over who fixed the car?" Concern was heavy in Cyn's voice, and Evie half expected a lecture to follow.

Despite knowing each other since childhood, Cynthia had taken on the role of her protector since Evie's family was no longer in the picture. The war had claimed Evie's father, and brother—although they'd never found her brother, Jimmy after he disappeared behind enemy lines. Evie never lost hope that Jimmy would one day be found, Cynthia though, was certain her husband was never coming home. After Cyn’s brother, Charlie, died at Normandy Cynthia had difficulty believing anyone was going to make it home. As for Evie's mother, losing a child and her husband to the war was too much for her tender heart and she passed not long after. Ever since, Cynthia was overcome with the need to act as Evie's guardian.

"He wouldn't let me pay him," Evie explained. "So I'm making him dinner—it seemed like the least I could do."

"I suppose…." Cynthia didn't sound convinced, if anything she sounded slightly irritated there was no quick way for her to argue the logic. "Just be careful, Evie. You don't know this guy—he could be another Jonny Doyle. Or worse."

"He's not," Evie said quickly. She wanted nothing more than to tell her friend all about how benevolent Mer was, but she decided against it. Cynthia would only argue that point somehow.

A long pause followed, and Evie wedged the receiver between her ear and shoulder so her hands were free to work on the meal.

"So, what are you cooking?" This time, there was a hint of jest in her friend's tone when she spoke.

The art of cooking was one creative outlet that Evie struggled with, second only to music. In her youth, her mother did all the cooking—it was a passion of her mother's—thus Evie had done little more than watch in wonder as her mother whipped up meal after meal effortlessly. Breakfast she the meal she was probably best at, apple pies too, but anything beyond that Evie required a step by step guide to prepare. And even then she lacked confidence. Thankfully, when she'd fled south, she remembered to grab her mother's cookbook. It was a cumbersome tome with yellowed pages and notes scribbled into the margins: a piece of art itself cultivated over years of collecting recipe after recipe starting the moment her mother stepped off the boat that brought her from Ireland. And like a witch and her spellbook, Evie depended on it.

"Spaghetti with garlic bread," Evie admitted feeling as though the meal lacked a certain something.

Pasta was something she knew held a low degree of difficulty when it came to preparing. Surely she couldn't mess up pasta.

“Mmm, I can almost smell it,” Cynthia said.

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously,” Cyn replied. “You’re mom’s spaghetti recipe was always my favorite.”

A doleful smile pulled at the corners of her lips, thinking back to her mother happily cooking in the kitchen as she sang a Celtic tune. It seemed strange that those moments would never again play out, instead they’d become bittersweet memories Evie could only relive in her mind.

“Mine too,” she murmured, suddenly missing her family.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Evie’s mind roamed the dregs of her grief before blinking back into reality and the hope of something happy to come.

“I need to go, Cyn,” Evie told her friend with a sigh. “I don’t want to burn the garlic bread.”

Cynthia chuckled and said her goodbye, only after making Evie promise to call her in the morning to let her know how everything went.

With her second hand restored after hanging up, Evelyn reached for her mother’s cookbook to give the steps another look over to ensure she had done everything and added every herb and ingredient she was supposed to. She’d followed everything perfectly, even factoring in the little notes scribbled into the margins left there by her mother—those she smiled at fondly and traced the fading ink with her fingers. Everything was as it should be. Even so, without a taste, Evie knew the sauce she had prepared would never be as savory as what her mother made so effortlessly.

“You were the artist in the kitchen, Ma,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll stick to paper and canvas.”

For the smallest of a moment Evie thought she would hear the warmth of her mother’s laugh, and when it never came she sighed again, trying not to dwell on the shadows behind her. What mattered was the light ahead.

Despite her lack of confidence, the meal came together without any severe hiccups. The noodles were not overcooked, the sauce was a complementing mix of savory and sweet (though, as she had guessed after a tiny taste, was not nearly as good as her mother's) and the garlic bread was nicely golden. A small tingle of pride manifested in the form of a surprised, but satisfied, smile as she surveyed the dinner before her.

“Not bad, Ev,” she told herself, knowing her mother would have been delighted.

With the cooking done, Evie threw a glance over her shoulder to the clock mounted on the wall, triggering a surge of anxiety to bubble in her gut. Stranger, perhaps, was the amount of excitement coursing through her veins. It was as though all of her happiness was riding on whether or not she would see Merriell again. None of it made sense; the man was little more than a stranger. The coupling of nerves and delight was not a feeling that put her ill at ease, however. She trusted it. And it was that peculiar sensation that seemed to fuel her movements.

With a few minutes to spare, Evie wandered into the small bathroom to freshen up. She made sure her hair was still pinned the way she liked—up and pretty. Her make-up was holding up nicely despite the heat; all she needed was a fresh layer of lipstick to complete the illusion of a put-together young lady. It wasn't often she wore a dress with heels and a face of cosmetics—she liked to when the opportunity arose, but she was just as comfortable in a pair of old overalls and smudges of charcoal on her face.

Just as she wiggled back into her red pumps—discarding her worn-in house slippers with a couple of calculated kicks—a knock on the door signaled Merriells arrival. Immediately a grin curled onto Evie's lips and her heart began to pound an anxious-excited rhythm. A blush threatened to color her cheeks to give away the torrid muscle beating in her chest—her ever yearning heart already making leaps and bounds for a man she had known for mere hours.

Don't be ridiculous—she warned herself taking in a deep breath to curb the eagerness coursing in her veins. Untying her apron, she tossed it along with her discarded slippers and went to answer the door, taking one last deep breath to steady the fervor in her heart.

Merriell had changed and showered. The sweet bouquet of his shampoo coupled invitingly with the musk of the aftershave he'd chosen, making it difficult for Evie to keep from soaking in the scent he carried. His curls were still somewhat damp—too much moisture in the air to keep the heat from drying them on his way over—though they fought to spring back into their previous fluff. The grease-covered, jeans he'd been wearing had been replaced by a nice pair of tan slacks, and the buttoned shirt he wore was a soft shade of green that made his eyes glitter a deeper emerald as he stood under the glow of the porch light. All Evie could do was stare—utterly beguiled—every rational thought in her head lost to her.

Mer smirked, amused by her ogling. "Hiya."

Evie blinked, coming back to reality, suddenly feeling foolish, and uttered a nervous "hi" before swinging her arm to invite him inside.

"Come in."

Merriell's smile grew as he crossed the threshold, inhaling deeply. "Mm, smells tasty in here."

He gently forced a bottle into her hands as he passed on his way to investigate the savory smells in the kitchen.

"I wasn' sho what ya was makin', but I figured wine usually goes with anythin'."

"Oh, thank you." Evie glanced at the label, unable to read the French words printed there. "You didn't have to bring anything."

"I know," Mer shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to make a good impression."

There was something almost boyish when he smiled then—cheeks coloring pink ever-so-slightly—that made him even more of a mystery. One Evie was eager to solve.

"Well," she said placing the bottle on the kitchen table. "It should go perfectly with dinner."

His expression lost a hint of its boyish charm as it grew into a look of delight.

"Make yourself at home," Evie gestured vaguely between the table and the sofa in the living room as she ventured to the cabinet where the stemware was kept.

She placed two crystal glasses on the table along with the wine and retraced her steps to fetch some of the nicer china Jonny's grandmother had kept. Mer watched her, his gaze, gentle and attentive, and a little bit yearning as she methodically sat the table.

"Need help with anythin'?" he asked finally.

"Nope," She replied with a smile. "Everything is almost ready."

The hearty red sauce on the stove was beginning to boil again which told her it was hot enough to serve, and Evie eyed the pot with scrutiny, praying silently her attempt at cooking would go over well.

"I'll pour us a glass then," Mer announced.

"Great, lemme…" Evie spun to fish for the corkscrew in the drawer of misfit utensils, finding it, only to turn to see Merriell holding his lighter against the neck of the dark bottle just below the cork.

Before she could ask, a loud pop sounded, causing her to jump as the cork went flying.

"Oh my goodness!" she laughed, a little surprised, a little impressed. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Mer shrugged, a sly expression on his features, and left her question unanswered.

"How much ya want?" He held the open bottle over the top of her glass, waiting patiently.

"Enough," she said, tossing him a coy smirk without really meaning to.

He bit his lower lip as he smiled, chuckling under his breath when he poured a generous glass of red wine for each of them. She thanked him as he took his seat and grabbed his plate to dish out their dinner.

"How much pasta would you like?"

Mer's face lit with charm and mischief as he turned to face her.

"Enough," he grinned.

The expression on his face was playful, his smirk devious and amused by his own response and his cheekiness settled warmly in Evie's stomach. Not only did she revel in it, but she also played into his whimsy and scooped as much spaghetti into his plate as she could before coupling it with the savory sauce and a slice of bread.

Despite being only strangers, the atmosphere that bloomed that evening was not marked by any hint of bashfulness, instead, it was relaxed and amiable. Warmth that Evie had longed to dwell in again—that unrefutable kindness she'd lost with the passing of her family—flowed uninhibited from the man sitting adjacent to her. His conversation was cautious but still jovial and genuine. It was the first time since running south Evie could recall what life felt like without grief and fear weighing upon her. Merriell was a stranger, but she felt safe with him. Jonny had never made her feel that way.

"So," Evie spoke as she twirled the last bit of pasta with her fork. "What is it you do, Mr. Shelton?"

Mer cast her a look of disapproval—no doubt in retaliation to being addressed so formally—before his features softened back into a neutral, yet somehow still amused side smirk.

"Nothin' too excitin'," he stated vaguely. "The odd jobs are what I like ta do the most—like fixin' ya car this aftah noon."

Without really meaning to, Evie leaned forward, resting her elbow and chin on the table, utterly enchanted by the beautiful stranger at her table.

"You like to get your hands dirty, huh? Fixing things?" she was entirely too intrigued with the thought of what he could do with his hands.

He shrugged, suddenly modest after a foray of playfully arrogant smirks and glances. It made him abruptly twice as charming.

"I've always had a knack for it, I guess." Merriell finished the food on his plate with the help of his remaining garlic bread to mop up the sauce still left on his dish.

"What about you?" he asked after chewing. "Ya workin' anywhere?"

All at once, a proud smile lit up Evie's face. After all the excitement of seeing Merriell again, she'd almost forgotten about her good news.

"Actually, I just got a job today—the general store downtown, Southern Comfort."

Mer's face lit up too, "Birdie's place?"

"Yeah, you know it?" Of course, he knows it! She thought, Bridge City's population was slightly less than the number of people who lived in a single district back home in New York. Everyone knew everyone else.

"Sho do—I was practically raised there…ole Birdie's like a second mothah to me."

"Really?" Evie found a great deal of comfort in that notion. In fact the more she thought on it, the more she realized how similar the old woman and Mer were; they radiated the same magnetism and sincerity.

"Mmhm," he nodded, his eyes focusing elsewhere as the veil of memories danced across the contours of his features. "My mama used ta work there…once upon a time…"

"Does she still work there?"

Merriell's face lost a hit of its levity and he swallowed as though to fight off the onslaught of sudden emotion threatening to cast a shadow onto his expression.

"No…" he said softly. "She—uh—she died, about a year ago."

Shit!

Abruptly, sick knots twisted into Evie's stomach, feeling callous, but understanding of the quiet misery he hid under layers of charm and arrogance.

"Merriell, I'm…I'm sorry—I didn't mean…"

He met her eyes and cast her a quick smile—doleful, but enough to ease the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"It's okay," he reassured her, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a good gulp before changing the subject. "Birdie's great—you'll enjoy workin' for her."

"I hope so…" Evie said softly, still too embarrassed to meet Mer's glance longer than a second or two.

For the first time all night the atmosphere they shared felt cumbersome—perhaps more melancholy—than she'd wanted it to get. Evie sat, worrying her bottom lip, her fingers toying with a loose thread in the table cloth as she stole quick glances through her lashes in Mer's direction.

He was nursing the alcohol in his glass with the same sadness she'd caught plaguing him as he sat at the bar hours ago. And while Evie was eager to know if his grief stemmed only from the loss of his mother, or perhaps more, Merriell was still too much of a stranger to warrant such questions. It didn't matter how easy it was to be near him, she had not earned the right to know his narrative.

A soft sigh broke past her lips as she fought to find a way to properly allay the gloom that was quickly ruining an otherwise wonderful evening. It wasn't until her eyes found their desert sitting on the counter, waiting to save the day, that she perked up.

"Got any room for apple pie?" Evie asked with a hesitant smile. She hoped he wanted to stay long enough to have a slice, though she would not have blamed him for wanting to leave.

Immediately Mer perked up too, the shadows on his features retreating with the promise of something sweet.

"I was countin' on it—seems as how you promised a slice earlier," he said with a boyish grin.

When she stood, he did too, helping clear away their dinner plates, and letting them soak in the sink to be washed later. Evie cut them each a slice of apple pie and the delight on Mer’s face made her smile too seeing him lick his lips as his grin continued to grow. Catching that flash of his tongue was like a bolt of hot lightning striking her without warning; a blush rose so quickly on her cheeks Evie had to look away to keep the blunder a secret. Thankfully, the pie was more than enough to hold Merriell’s attention away from her.

“Mmmm… Almost looks too good to eat,” he said ogling the desert in front of him.

When Evie chanced a look his way, the expression on his face caused her to chuckle, “‘oughta be, I made one for my pa every year for his birthday since I was nine. It’s probably the only thing I have any confidence in making in the kitchen.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Mer quipped as he loaded his fork with as much pie as he could.

The moment he took a bite, his brows creased, and eyes closed as he chewed painfully slow. Those few seconds were like agony. Evie’s heart was pounding in her chest with so much anticipation she feared she might faint as she watched him sample the only thing she could actually make that was worth a damn.

“Fuck me, if that ain’t the best apple pie I’ve evah had the pleasure of tasting.”

A somewhat nervous, but relieved chuckle sounded in the back of Evelyn’s throat as she watched Merriell shovel a larger bite of pie into his mouth.

“Mmm… Yep. God damn delightful.”

“Stop,” Evie said sheepishly, suddenly afraid he was overselling his reaction to keep from hurting her feelings.

“No,” he wiped his mouth and leaned across the table to meet her gaze with a sincere expression that stole away all the doubt writhing in her stomach.

“I mean it. If I wasn’t so full of pasta, I’d eat that whole damn pie right now.”

“Well,” Evie grinned softly, trying not to let her blush color her cheeks too obviously. “Thank you. And you’re welcome to take the rest of it when you go.”

Excitement took form on his face with a smirk that was sweet but roguish all at once—a sort of debonair charm that amplified his magnetism—as if his bright eyes dark curls and razor-sharp jaw did not make him alluring enough already. Again she had to look away knowing the pink in her cheeks would be too strong to combat.

“Imma have ta take ya up on that offah. An’ I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout you every time I cut me a slice.”

That blush was unstoppable; her heart was suddenly so smitten, it felt as though butterflies were fluttering merrily in her stomach. She felt weightless with warmth and hope swelling in her bosom, fearing any slight breeze would carry her off. It was ridiculous how at ease Evie felt sitting there eating pie with a complete stranger. The conversation had been easy all night; even when it had delved into less savory topics he still made her feel comfortable. Evelyn had forgotten what it was like to be in the company of a man who wasn’t easy to anger, who was genuine and kind and wanted only to live in the moment.

For a time the whimsy of the atmosphere faded as the warmth in her heart ached, suddenly missing her brother James and Cynthia's brother Charlie. Both of them were good men, kind and genuine—like Merriell—but they had been swallowed by the rages of war. Brave young men were lost forever, while a man like Jonny Doyle was still alive How was that fair?

No matter how pleasant her thoughts could be, they always fell back to the grief that plagued her. She sighed, deeply, pushing those intrusive memories back into the depths of her mind so she could find joy once more in the moment with a kind stranger.

When Merrill finished his plate he made a beeline for the sink full of soaking dishes.

“Oh, no,” she said jumping to her feet. “I can do those.”

Merriell, however, shook his head. “Uh-uh, you did the cookin’, I can do the cleanin’.”

When Evie tried to argue, Mer simply shook his head, his grin amused but determined as he kept scrubbing the dirty dishes.

“Let me help at least,” she suggested. “I’ll dry and put them away.”

Before he could protest, she snatched the freshly rinsed dish from his hand and began wiping away the droplets of water clinging to the porcelain surface, throwing him a smug smirk that made him chuckle.

“Alright,“ he smirked.

She watched him for a moment not really paying attention to her task as he scrubbed the old plates clean, overcome with a blissful vision of peaceful domesticity. It made her stomach fill to the brim with whimsy and her heart was fluttering again; had this stranger bewitched her already? Or did what she feel bubbling lightly in her gut like a seltzer stem from an end to her loneliness—even if it was only for a few hours? Evelyn didn’t know. Nevertheless, she was intrigued with a profound feeling and she wanted to dwell in it for as long as she could.

Occasionally as he would hand a freshly washed dish her way, his calloused fingertips would brush against her skin, igniting a spark she didn’t know how to react to. It was more than an amicable tingle racing from the tips of her fingers right to her heart. And each time they touched, Merriell would cast her a gentle smile that held nothing more than his inherent charm and magnetism. She wondered if he felt it too, or if her need for companionship was playing a dirty trick on her.

When the dishes were all back in their usual places—the night drawing to a close—Evelyn realized she was not ready to say farewell to her Beautiful Stranger. She longed to stay up all night just chatting with him, she did not care about what, Evelyn only wanted to stay encompassed a while longer in the blissful warmth he brought into her life. Once he was gone, all she would be able to do was stay up and ponder the significance of those little touches and the sparks they brought.

Thankfully, Merriell lingered on the old rickety porch, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his plate of leftover pie, seeming to stall their inevitable departure.

“Well,” he said with a grin. “Thank you for invitin’ a stranger ovah for dinna.” He paused, glancing at the leftover pie in his hand. “Can’t recall ever having a better plate of pasta, an’ nothin’ evah gonna beat this pie.”

Evie quickly looked at her feet to hide another blush.

“It was the least I could do,” she told him before looking back to meet his eyes. “You have no idea how much of a savior you were this afternoon…”

A glint of concern flashed in his eye, his brows beginning to crease as his unspoken question lingered between them.

She thought about telling him—telling him how Jonny was nothing more than a throne in her side, and how much she cherished Merriells company—but Mer was still a stranger. It wasn’t right to unload so much onto someone she’d only known for a few hours.

Before Mer could offer any reply, the sound of screeching tires stole all their focus as an old wagon pulled along the curb—narrowly missing a collision with the mailbox. The rowdy passengers were laughing and shouting loud enough even before the door opened to let Jonny stumble out. He staggered on drunk feet and screamed a handful of profanities to his buddies in the car which made them all roar with laughter.

It was only after the wagon full of hooligans pulled away that Jonny began to stagger towards the house, and it was exactly then that Evie’s fluttering heart became consumed with panic.

She and Mer watched him cross the yard, unseen, both frozen: Evie in fear and Merriell in confusion. Jonny’s intoxication level inhibited him from taking notice of them until he was at the base of the steps leading onto the porch. Immediately, his eyes narrowed and he frowned.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Jonny, this is Mr. Merriell Shelton,” Evie said quickly, willing her voice not to shake.

The Doyle’s were not known for their hospitality, nor were they known to trust most people. Especially strangers.

“He helped me this afternoon with a bit of trouble I was having,” she explained vaguely, hoping to thwart any more suspicion. “I made him dinner to say thank you—he’s just about to leave.”

Jonny eyed Merriell, seizing him up as best he could through drunken lenses. Mer stood his ground, eyeing him back with a subtle intensity that never so much as cracked under Jonny’s scrutiny.

Finally, being the better man, Mer held out his hand in a friendly manner, “nice ta meet ya.”

Jonny cast a prolonged glare at Merriell's open hand, his brows furrowed and part of his lip hiked up in a sort of snarl. Instead of returning the kind gesture, Jonny made a show of spitting at his feet before tossing his heavy leer at Evelyn.

"Evie, do not invite any more strangers into my house. I don't care if they are dying." He shoved past them both, purposely bumping Mer's shoulder (most likely in hopes to start something) muttering as he went: "I don't trust any of these filthy southerners."

Shock sent Evie's jaw slack; this time the redness in her cheeks was a symptom of embarrassment instead of infatuation. She should have known Jonny would say something rude and uncouth. Without another thought, she grabbed Mer by his sleeve and pulled him across the lawn until they stood next to his truck parked along the curb.

"I am so sorry about him," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at Jonny's house, ashamed and angry.

Mer shrugged as he placed his partially eaten pie in the passenger seat through the open window before fixing his hands in his front pockets.

"Ya boyfriend's a bit of an asshole."

"He is not my boyfriend," Evie corrected vehemently. "I don't think he knows that though. I'm just staying here until I can figure some things out."

Merriell was quiet a moment, nodding silently. It seemed as though he was taking his time processing the whole situation. There was compassion on his face and behind his eyes, but it was guarded somehow. Evie caught it though and she was grateful when he didn't ask the questions plainly forming in his mind.

"Well," he said finally, his tone light as one corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. "Since he ain't ya othah half, I feel more inclined ta leave ya with this…"

Gently, Merriell caressed her upper arm as he leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek. He let his lips linger slightly longer than was common for such an act, that all at once wove a new hopefulness into her heart.

"Dinna was swell," he added as he pulled away, his smile somehow more charming than it had been all night. "Hope I see ya again, Evie."

"Me too," she murmured.

Evie watched as he got in his truck to leave, her hand held to the cheek he'd graced with his kiss. And when he drove away, it took everything inside of her to keep from running after him.