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bookishofalder · 3 years

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Unexpected

Spencer x FEM!Reader

Summary: In which Spencer and the reader have too much fun together on New Year's Eve. Leaving them both questioning their friendship, and Spencer watching the reader's weird behaviour.

Warnings: TW-Pregnancy, brief smut, drinking, CM style crime scene, fainting, hospital, language, fluff and emotions. WC-3,882

A/N-Wrote something sweet and fluffy about our favourite Doctor. Prequel here.

Spencer was watching you. He could tell you hadn’t noticed, despite being a competent profiler yourself. Which was why he was becoming exceedingly concerned.

Something about you was...off.

He hadn’t pinpointed what, just that you had been acting different for about two weeks now. As your best friend, he knew you too well to simply brush it off. And while he was hesitant to ask you, he couldn’t help but watch you for signs, anything to give away what might be going on.

After New Year's Eve, a night the two of you had agreed what you had done together had been between two friends, who had been drinking and who were both entirely single.

You had been the one to throw a party for bringing in the New Year, insisting on the entire team coming because you wanted to show off your beautiful condo, your tasteful decorating skills. Spencer spent a lot of time at your condo, often staying the night on your ridiculously comfortable couch, and so it was no surprise that he enjoyed indulging a little too much on beverages that night, and subsequently remained overnight.

It had surprised you both, when he had closed the door on Hotch and Rossi-that last two to leave the celebration-and the quiet he’d been craving for a while settled and he pulled you into a tight embrace, his lips pressing to your head in an uncommonly affectionate display.

“You know, I think it’s customary to kiss someone when you ring in the New Year, (Y/N),” He had muttered, unthinking. The walls he built around his feelings for you, which extended beyond friendship, were thin-weakened by the alcohol.

Leaning your head back to meet his eyes, glassy and wide-eyed, you giggled, “I always thought that was silly, meant for couples to just show off how happily domestic they are!” You rolled your eyes, but you hadn’t moved out of his arms.

Spencer had cleared his throat, “It can be...friends, who care deeply, too.” He replied lamely.

And normally, this sort of conversation might have had you ruffling his hair before you moved away laughing. Not that he’d ever say anything like this if he was sober.

Instead, you had dropped your smile and something...different had glinted in your eyes before your tongue had wet your plump lips. That action had a strong effect; Spencer’s wall simply bursting open. He had pressed his lips to yours with a groan, gathering you closer in his arms. When you reacted in earnest to this, moaning softly, he lost every ounce of willpower to hold back, to stop.

But you had never asked to stop.

No, you had followed him down every path, eager and smiling, falling into bliss without hesitation. Spencer had never felt so whole, so safe. If it had been a movie, the viewers would have said it wasn’t sex, these two were making love.

But the alcohol, it had played its part in this crossing over the line, blatant disregard for the friendship you both cherished so immensely. It had aided the longing, the hidden feelings and tempted you both into relinquishing that control, that steady and routine pace of life.

Best friends fall in love. They make love. Then date, right?

Only that wasn’t the case here. You and Spencer had woken in the late morning hours of the first day of the year wrapped in one another’s arms. Naked, evidence of your activities abundant in your bedroom, on your skin where he had bite gently before laving his tongue to soothe. And you had looked at one another and tried to grip the slippery memories, bring them to the surface, but the alcohol had burned away too much of them...so you agreed, simultaneously, that these things can happen, that neither of you was upset and things could go back to normal.

It hadn’t even been awkward, and that was something that Spencer could never forget. Cuddled together, facing one another in your bed, you had simply talked. About the night, about how little you both remembered, about how you had both enjoyed it, how you loved one another as best friends should. He could have told you he was desperately in love with you, but he didn’t. You followed each other into an agreement that all was well, and nothing would ever come between you.

That had been over a month ago. Even with the limited memories, Spencer still replayed what he could in his mind over and over. The way you looked when your dress hit the floor, how you had let him lead, the expression on your face when you climbed into his lap and sunk onto him, taking every inch while his name spilled from your lips like a song. How it felt like the two of you were made for each other, your sloppy, lazy movements matching in the glow of too many vodka shots and margaritas. Blank spaces were there, but he did remember the moment you both reached your peak, together, moving your hips to meet and draw the feeling of oblivion out as long as you could.

He remembered saying he loved you. He just didn’t know if you had heard him.

Standing in the conference room of the Central Florida Police Department, on a case, Spencer was watching you from across the room. Listening as Hotch spoke, but his eyes assessing the way your hand move to the back of your neck as if you had a headache, the surprise in your face when you noticed you were sweating. You pulled a hairband from your pocket and secured your long locks into a casual ponytail.

Nothing had changed between Spencer and you since New Year's Eve. You still spent all of your free time together, still watched Doctor Who and went to bookshops for hours, shared a double room on cases. And yet, two weeks ago Spencer noticed small changes, things that as a profiler he knew not many would also notice, and yet still concerning. He couldn’t even pinpoint the cause, maybe that was why he was so focused on figuring you out. Because while you smiled at him the same, laughed with him, hugged him-you still didn’t seem yourself.

You had been having headaches more frequently, a little pucker between your brows appearing before you inevitably gave in and took Tylenol. You weren’t eating as much, but you were drinking a lot of water-that was something even Hotch had noticed, commenting one day when you had slipped back into a meeting with a refilled water bottle in hand. You had laughed it off, unbothered.

But Spencer had frowned, his suspicions rising.

There were more subtle changes as well, your skin had seemed clearer but your cheeks were always flushed. You had always been a good hugger, but you didn’t pull others as close to you as you usually would, occasionally wincing even when you thought no one was paying attention. The final straw that convinced him something was going on was your moods.

You had always been a very even-tempered person, especially at work. While you had strong emotions, you kept them at bay as needed. But he had counted exactly eight incidents where he saw your eyes fill with tears that did not warrant those reaction-emotional commercials or a kind word from Hotch on performance. You had blinked them back each time, just as surprised to find yourself crying as he was. And suddenly, you had a bit of a temper too, something that reared its ugly head in the forms of road rage, or impatience with local police staff. Morgan had joked that you were finally growing into your bossy side, but Spencer didn’t agree.

He just didn’t know what the hell was wrong with you. And he was afraid to upset you, to cross a line, if he asked you. You told him everything; whatever this was, he could wait for you to talk to him. At least, that’s what he constantly told himself.

“Thanks, Garcia, can you send-?” Hotch was saying, but Garcia cut him off with her usual cheeriness.

“Coordinates already sent to your phones, Garcia over and out!”

The line went dead and Hotch ended the call, tucking his phone into his pants, “Okay guys, gear up.”

Things moved at a regular pace after that, the team ready to bring in a dangerous unsub, who may or may not be at the house they were about to raid. Gearing up, Spencer and you were separated in different cars but teamed together once you were on location.

Standing in the mid-afternoon Florida heat was uncomfortable, the house they were surrounding had no trees, no shade to attempt to find reprieve. And based on the condition of the exterior, Spencer very much doubted this home had central A/C circulating fresh, cool air. You stood next to him in your vest, eyes focused on the house before you glanced up to meet his eyes, give him a gentle smile.

“Ready, doc?” You cheeked.

Spencer returned your smile, “Should be a good opportunity to see some of the potential beach houses we could rent for a vacation.” He gestured at the dilapidated bungalow. You giggled, lowering your head to press to his arm in an attempt to hide your silliness, keeping your voice low.

“Spence, there’s no beach here.”

“Then why in all the world is the street called Beach Street?” He deadpanned.

At this, you snorted, one hand gripping his arm now, trying your best to hide away from Hotch, who was still talking to the Sargent and hadn’t noticed the exchange. Spencer smiled, a rush of relief running through him every time you acted like yourself. He hoped he was just seeing things that weren’t there because of what had happened on New Year's Eve, his mind trying to torture him for it all getting so out of control. You were fine.

“Alright, let’s go!” Hotch barked, instantly snapping you both back into work mode.

Spencer had been right, unfortunately. You and he entered through the back door, which leads off the kitchen, and the house completely reeked. The steamy air simply swallowed you both when you stepped inside the dirty room, both on high alert and yet still trying not to focus on the smell, on the sound of flies.

Perhaps this was the first moment Spencer should have realized you were not, in fact, fine. But when you began to breathe steadily from your mouth next to him, he brushed it off-maybe it helped you keep your head clear in this cesspool of rotten, unkempt living.

When the main floor was cleared, silently, Hotch and Prentiss were the first to breach the basement. Climbing down the curved staircase carefully before you and Spencer and the rest of the team followed, then splitting off into groups to search the rooms. The basement was large, and it was a very uncommon thing to have a basement in this part of the world- which was one of the red flags they had spotted when narrowing down a geo-profile for the unsub.

Morgan and JJ were behind you and Spencer, watching your backs as you cleared the meagre laundry room, then the furnace room. Down a final hallway, one door stood unchecked, and you approached ahead of Spencer, kneeling for a moment to turn the knob quietly, allowing him and Morgan to burst in first and call for the man inside to freeze.

They had known this man was a butcher, a sadistic man who enjoyed cutting his victims up like it was an art. Walking into his kill room was like stepping into a preview of Hell itself, the dirty and blood-spattered surfaces nothing compared to the site of rotting flesh hanging from the ceiling, dripping fluids on the concrete floor while the butcher no doubt worked at the table that sat in the centre of the room. He was standing there now, hands raised, his latest victim already dead-for a while, it seemed-a yellow-stained smile that didn’t meet his eyes stretching his mottled face.

This was Spencer’s second clue that you weren’t fine. As you hiccuped next to him, catching his eyes as Morgan cuffed the butcher, JJ holding her gun stead on Spencer’s other side. He looked you over and you seemed to be biting something back, and he wondered if maybe you wanted to say something to the butcher, to call him a monster.

Only, then he saw the colour was draining from your cheeks. He could hear the others in the hall behind them, so he holstered his gun and turned to you, watching as you lowered your weapon.

Your hands were shaking.

“(Y/N)?”

You looked up at him now and Spencer immediately felt a shiver shoot down his back; your pupils were pin-pricks, your face now far too pale, but your expression was so devastating like you couldn’t understand what was happening.

“D-dizzy...” And then you fainted, your gun falling from your hands, and Spencer was catching you while screaming out for Hotch, for medics. He caught you and quickly raised you into his arms, knowing he needed to get you outside of this putrid basement, into fresher air. JJ and Hotch were right by his side as he sprinted outside, lowering you to the grass before seeking out your pulse. It was steady but slow and a little weak.

He was still saying your name but you weren’t waking up, and then the medics were there and they checked your eyes and you still didn’t wake up. Spencer didn’t realize he was groaning as if in pain, his mind running through the last two weeks and questioning every moment he had seen, every symptom he thought was related to what the two of you had done together.

Had he been so blinded that he missed a real condition? You were younger than Spencer by a few years, healthy and active. What hadn’t he seen?

At the hospital, what felt like hours passed but in reality was merely fifty minutes-minutes that Spencer spent pacing angrily, proclaiming his stupidity to his colleagues, unloading the burden of his worries on them when it now felt too late.

They knew they could say nothing to comfort him, and so none of them tried, they simply listened. Occasionally one of them would brush his arm as he passed, a small gesture of affection. Spencer barely noticed.

“(Y/F/N) family?” A young doctor called, and the entire BAU stood instantly, allowing Spencer to shoot forward. The doctor didn’t hesitate, “You must be the husband?”

Spencer didn’t even hear her, “Is she alright?” His voice sounded coarse, strained. He held his breath.

She gave a small smile, “Yes, she’s just being settled into her room. She’s suffered a bad case of...exhaustion and mixed with the conditions of the home you described to the medics on your way here, I’m not surprised she fainted. She’ll need to stay overnight, we’re going to get her fluids back up and monitor the-her heart rate, get some food into her. Mainly, she needs to rest. Once she’s released I expect I’ll be assigning her bed rest for a few weeks.”

Spencer didn’t remember the ambulance ride over, just that he had been the one to go, his eyes never leaving you, not until the door closed that led into the staff-only area of the hospital. Had he really told them of the house? “Can I please see her?”

The doctor patted his arm, “Of course, follow me.”

You already looked so much better, the flush back in your cheeks and a small smile on your face when Spencer appeared in the doorway, drinking in the sight of you alive and well and beautiful, so beautiful. You were left alone, the doctor closing the door as she left, and before you could speak Spencer launched himself across the room and gently pulled you into a hug, being mindful of the IV line. Your heart monitor spiked, a sound he was very happy to hear.

“Sweet girl,” He breathed, kissing your head, your cheek, your hand, “I’m so sorry, I knew something was off with you and now the doctor said it’s exhaustion and I missed the signs, I thought I was being idiotic and then you-“

“Spence,” You pressed your hands to his face, and he carefully sat down on the bed, leaning over you, “I’m okay, this isn’t your fault.” You were so sweet.

Spencer shook his head despite the kind and sincere expression on your face, “I should have mentioned that I thought you seemed weird, maybe we could have prevented this.”

You were shaking your head now, a funny smile on your face, “We couldn’t have prevented this. I mean...” You broke off, looking away as if searching for the words you wanted to say. Spencer brushed the hair from your forehead, waiting for you to speak. “When I said this isn’t your fault, well Spence, it kind of is?”

Spencer stared at you, entirely confused. Your words should have cut through him, but that smile on your face made no sense. He watched as you seemed to steel yourself. “(Y/N)? What is it?” He took your hands into his, concerned, and at a complete loss.

For a moment, you stared back into his eyes, an unreadable storm of emotions within them. You leaned back into your cushions, took a deep breath, “I want you to know, Spencer Reid-that I am so, so in love with you,” You never looked away as Spencer froze, his mouth popping open in surprise. “You’re always going to be my best friend, no matter what, but New Years Eve-what I can remember-was the best night of my life. I can’t stop thinking about you, I never could really but now that I know, w-what I do about you, how it feels to be with you, it’s like I can’t get you out of my head. I love you.”

You were so brave, he thought at that moment. You never broke your gaze, your hands squeezing his as you spoke, as you eviscerated Spencer entirely with your beautiful words. He gulped in air, but it wouldn’t reach his lungs. You had just told him you were in love with him...that you thought about him, about that night, just like he did of you. Never, ever did he think that was what you were going to say, that you could feel the same. Never.

“Oh, sweet girl,” He finally gasped, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours in a soft, sweet kiss before pulling back slightly, “I should have told you that morning, when we woke up-I love you too, so much. I felt like we left that night with nothing, despite how it meant everything to me. You mean everything to me, (Y/N).”

Your eyes had filled with tears that now leaked down your cheeks, “Well, we didn’t leave that night with nothing...we...Spencer, I’m pregnant.” Your sentence rushed out and he felt the air evaporate within him, his entire body going rigid.

He just stared at you, waiting for the punchline, but you were giving him this knowing, somewhat empathetic look.

You weren’t kidding.

Like a tidal wave, his stupid genius brain finally pieced together all of your symptoms, the water, the appetite, sweating and headaches and the fucking mood swings. “I-(Y/N), how-?”

You laughed, not unkind as you reached up with one hand and cupped his cheek, “When two people love each other, they-“

Spencer cut off your joke, “No, I remember, you have an IUD.”

You sighed, still smiling, “They did a scan, looks like it’s not in place properly, which they said could happen. They removed it, today. And then they told me.”

Spencer could feel himself choking up, emotions swirling around, overwhelming him. And yet, he could see that even though he hadn’t responded to the news yet, you remained unbothered because you just understood him so well. Understood that it took time for some things to sink in for him. Your thumb brushed softly across his cheek, your other hand still squeezing his, keeping him grounded.

“You’re pregnant.” He said it aloud, stated it, then felt himself brighten, “You’re pregnant with our baby.” He didn’t realize the wetness on his face was his tears, not until you wiped at them with your thumb, now beaming at him.

“I’m pregnant with our baby-it’s been almost five weeks, so it’s still very early, but because I didn’t think, I didn’t realize-“ You broke off then, joy quickly turned to sadness. “They said that everything looks just fine, that I just overdid it and now that I know I can start doing, all of the stuff you do for this, but I feel so stupid. I thought I was experiencing physical reactions to the stress and guilt I felt for what we did, for almost ruining-“

Spencer cut in, “No, no sweet girl, this isn’t your fault, you aren’t stupid-you’re perfect.” He refused to let you blame yourself, “And most people who aren’t trying to get pregnant don’t notice those symptoms for what they are right away. It’s entirely normal that you assumed what you did, it’s what I thought too.”

At this, you locked your eyes to his again, frowning, “How could we both be so ridiculous?”

Spencer laughed, taking your head into his hand and hugging you to his chest, “I can’t believe this, I really can’t.” His mind was swirling, so many thoughts rushing forward as he holds you close. Knowing you felt the same had his heart soaring already. But you were going to have his baby, be a mother. He was going to be a father.

Your arms snaked up to circle his neck, where you tucked your head, pulling him from his thoughts “I know we weren’t expecting this...I just need you to know-“

“I think I should move in.”

You jerked back from Spencer in surprise, eyes comically wide, “You want to move in?” You were smiling at him. He looked at you closely, holding your gaze.

“I’m there all the time anyway, and if you’re carrying my baby then I have a lot of responsibility now, I understand if you aren’t ready. But I’d like to take care of you, both of you. And I never want to come home to a place where you don’t live, (Y/N).”

You were fully crying now, cute sniffles surrounding your reply, “Yes, Spe-Spencer, you can move in, I’d love that.”

He hugged you again, and the two of you sat together in a state of complete content. Spencer had never been happier in his life, and he knew that even though he could barely remember the best night of his life, he was going to cherish it forever knowing that it led to this, the best day of his life he was never going to forget.

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

PREQUEL

#spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid #reader insert #fanfic #pregnancy #fluff #bau x reader #friends to lovers #best friend #post prison reid #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #love story

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mercy-burning · 3 years

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Losing You Twice / 1: If I Hated You

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and it turns out Y/N isn’t the only one struggling with the breakup. Category: Smut (18+), Angst Content Warnings: Language, drinking/getting drunk, penetrative/unprotected sex (If I missed anything, please let me know!) Word Count: 5,538

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

“My bedtime is the darkest, that’s when I’m brokenhearted. The nighttime is the hardest. It’d be easy, if I hated you.” —FLETCHER, If I Hated You

FEBRUARY 13th

It was Valentine's Day weekend, which sucked this time around. Every year for the past three years Y/N looked forward to Valentine's Day, but that was when she actually had someone to spend it with.

Well, someone she actually cared about, anyway... Whether or not Spencer actually knew it, she did really care about him. She was just stupid and didn't say it when he needed to hear it the most.

And now Valentine's Day was on Saturday and Y/N was still without him. Not alone, but still without the man who'd spent the significant holiday with her for the past three years. Memories of their dates and 'afterparties' flooded through her mind as she got ready for work like a montage, a cheesy love-song playlist she'd found on Spotify acting as the soundtrack.

Eventually she sighed and turned it off, opting for something more loud and obnoxious, and therefore not tainted by Spencer's memory. She applied what was left of her makeup and added a pair of earrings before turning the music off altogether and shoving her phone in her bag alongside her keys and other necessities.

Even though she wasn't emotionally prepared for all the cheesy Valentine's things she'd see and hear and experience throughout the weekend, it was still kind of nice to see that things in the bank never changed during the holidays— Everything in her life was so severely different at the moment, that if Marjorie had somehow decided to throw out all her elaborate decorations for each holiday, no matter how small, Y/N would have thought the world was truly ending.

Speaking of, she was met with Marjorie's brighter-than-the-sun smile almost immediately once she set her things in the breakroom.

"How's my little macaron this morning?" she chirped, Y/N chuckling slightly at the nickname— She brought macarons from the bakery down the street on her first birthday she spent at the bank, and ever since then, the older woman had adorned her with the namesake.

"She's alright, Marj... Better now that she's seen you..."

"That boy still on your mind, hon?"

Obviously Marjorie's intentions were good, but Y/N couldn't stand to think about the situation at all, least of all at work... So, setting her jacket on the rack, turned away so that her coworker wouldn't see the visible discomfort on her face, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and cleared her throat. "So, what are your plans with Geno tomorrow night? Anything special?"

There was a brief pause before Marjorie cleared her throat as well. "Nothing short of our usual dinner plans, my dear. He's been so caught up with work at the Mill lately, I think we're just going to spend the night relaxing."

"Hm," Y/N said shortly, finally turning around and giving her the best smile she could. "Maybe I should take a page from your book and stay in..."

"You weren't going to?"

"No... Britt's been nagging me about getting out there so we're going out tomorrow night. We both haven't been single in a long time, so... Should be fun."

Marjorie didn't look convinced. Either way, she nodded with a smile and walked over to Y/N with something glittery and bright red in her hand— A cheap beaded necklace to clip her nametag onto. She draped it over Y/N's neck and patted her shoulders. "Well, I want you to have fun. And remember that you still have to come to work on Monday. Whatever shenanigans you get into should be reserved for Saturday night only so you can rest properly on Sunday, got it?"

Y/N laughed, thankful for the playful tone in Marjorie's voice. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Oh, I joke, I joke," the older woman said with a bright laugh, turning to walk out of the break room. "A little..."

The smile on Y/N's face only really lasted until after Marjorie was out of sight, then she went into her bag and clipped her nametag onto the red beaded necklace with a sigh.

Was she excited to have a good night out with Britt? Of course. Hell, had it been literally any other day of the year, she would have been practically bouncing off the walls with excitement at the idea of going out to a bar, letting men hit on her until she finally let one of them take her back to his place for the night.

But it just felt like it was too soon.

Either way, she was glad that she'd get to see Britt again, after she'd been on vacation for Christmas and New Year's to see her family and only got back a few weeks ago. She'd seen her on Facetime of course, and they met up once for coffee right after Britt got back from her trip, but a well-needed night out and quality time getting ready together was something that had been missing from their friendship for almost a year.

Y/N knew Britt would most likely spend her time trying to hook them up with end-of-the-night dates, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

Even still, sleeping alone the night before was probably one of the worst spells of loneliness she'd ever had. It was normal to be sad spending the first Valentine's Day in years away from a significant other, but knowing how things ended between them—bitter and stained with words left unsaid—this time was just... cold.

And that was putting it lightly.

Y/N laid in bed that night, her eyes wide open and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that adorned the ceiling. They used to give her comfort, but now they just reminded her of all the nights she'd spend with Spencer, listening to him tell stories about the constellations. They were some of the most peaceful memories she had.

And now those, too—those stars that had grounded her pretty much all her life and reminded her of the better days—were tainted by her inability to properly communicate.

She almost thought about taking them down.

But if she was really going to get over him this time, for good, then she'd have to learn to make new memories with the stars. Even if it was painful. Even if replacing those memories and writing new ones over them absolutely tore her soul to pieces.

And, as if that pain wasn't enough, that night Y/N dreamt of him, making love to her amongst the stars in every galaxy, only to wake up the next morning cold and alone.

FEBRUARY 14th

She promptly decided that she hated his guts.

It was Valentine's Day, Y/N was respectfully buzzed, and courtesy of two beers and four shots of tequila, she'd just deleted Spencer's number from her phone.

"I'm done," she said, waving a hand at Britt and shoving her phone in her purse. "He doesn't deserve my wallowing."

"Yeah!"

Britt was significantly the more drunk of the two, resulting in a fit of giggles after gaining some stares from the people around them at her sudden outburst.

Y/N smiled, finishing off another shot and shaking her head. "We need more!"

"More shots!" Britt hurried off to grab them, leaving her friend behind with a half-drunken smile that also only felt half-genuine.

Sure, she decided she hated Spencer's guts, but her heart didn't exactly agree well with that sentiment. Even after deleting his number from her phone, after downing all that alcohol, her heart still ached.

Y/N knew deep down that getting over him was going to take some time. A lot of time... But maybe one night of distraction would help.

So the shots kept coming, and by the end of the night, Y/N was just about at her limit.

Which was near black-out drunk. And when you're that drunk you tend to make decisions you wouldn't soberly condone.

Britt got into a cab, and she begged Y/N to come with her, but she assured her friend that she had someone to come pick her up. Eventually the cab driver got tired of their inability to decide, and when Y/N told him to go, he did, leaving her alone on the side of the street at 1am.

Unfortunately, it was incredibly cold, and she didn't really have anyone to come pick her up. And that's where the bad decisions started.

Y/N pulled her phone out, a long sigh escaping her as she dialed the number by heart.

Would he even pick up? He hadn't answered any of her calls or texts before, so why would it have been any different now? Not to mention it was Valentine's Day Weekend. With her luck, he was probably in bed with someone else. Someone who wasn't her. As she listened to the dial tone repeating in her ear, images of him wrapped up with somebody else—sleeping in the bed she'd slept in many times before—clouded her drunken brain and made her more angry than anything.

Her gut twisted, and she almost hung up.

But then the low buzz of the dial tone abruptly stopped and in its place came his voice.

"Y/N?"

Her name on his lips, even through the phone, was grounding, the anger in her system melting away and revealing a coat of drunken relief.

"Spencer! You answered!"

"Yeah... Are you— Is everything okay?"

"Pff, yeah, 'm-fine. Just really fucking cold."

"You're not outside, are you?"

"Duh, I'm outside... I wouldn't be cold in-side... Besides, I didn't call t'alk bout the weather, I need you t'come pick me up."

There was a brief pause, and for a moment Y/N didn't think he was going to say anything she wanted to hear. She swayed on the sidewalk, shivering and praying that he would throw her a bone, even if she'd regret it all in the morning.

"Where are you?" he said finally, and despite herself, she smiled.

FEBRUARY 15th

Spencer couldn't believe he was picking her up at near two in the morning.

Honestly, he'd initially thought about ignoring her call again, but remembering the day it was and taking note of the time, he figured she was most likely in some type of inebriated trouble.

His instincts were right, of course, but he wished that he could have been wrong. He wished she'd only been calling to drunkenly ramble on about how she missed him or maybe how he was stupid and she never wanted to see his face ever again, because that was normal. At least then he could have hung up after she was done and never thought about it again— it was a normal step in any relationship that helped move things along. They could have gotten on with their lives and it would have all been over.

But of course it was never that simple.

Y/N was never that simple.

He pictured her on the street near some bar, alone and cold and drunk, and of course he would have been the only one she could call to rescue her. After all, he'd been pretty much the only thing she'd ever known to make her feel safe.

Still, he wished he was capable of only giving her a ride home and then leaving.

But again, it was never that simple.

It was easy getting her into the car— that wasn't what he was worried about. Rather, it was the fated moment where she'd ask him to stay after he finally got her tucked safely into bed that worried him. Because it was bad enough that it was Y/N... It was her in all her alluring glory, and he'd never been able to deny her anything no matter how badly he tried or wanted to.

Now add on the fact that she was drunk, and most likely sad on their first Valentine's Day apart, and it was a recipe for disaster.

Even if she'd broken his heart, Spencer still cared about her.

Which is why he inevitably agreed to stay, at least until she fell asleep.

He knew her well enough to know all the ways she'd try to get him under the covers with her, so it was a familiar amusement that settled in his being when he was finally able to get on top of the covers with her underneath. But as he entertained her silly little questions with the right answers until she fell asleep, Spencer noticed something else accompanying that amusement.

Guilt.

And then anger for feeling guilty about her sadness— sadness that could have been avoided had she just gotten over whatever was holding her back and either returned his "I love you" or told him she wasn't feeling the same way just yet.

All she had to do was talk.

He had a right to feel upset about Y/N holding back when he'd been nothing but patient, spending almost every year of their relationship trying to make her see that she had nothing to be afraid of. He'd given her every chance to talk about what she was feeling, whether it was happy or not, and every time she pushed it all away in favor of sex.

That wasn't what he wanted in a relationship, so he ended it. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

So why was he feeling so fucking guilty?

He blamed his good nature and innate need to please people, to make them feel good and happy. But he also blamed Y/N and her adorable drunken sleeping face.

He watched as she slept, willing himself not to forget the way she hurt him. She'd completely stolen his heart and shattered it at the same time, and if he was being honest, she still held some of the pieces. But he couldn't get them back, not if he didn't want to risk shattering her own heart in the process.

It felt like they were tied together by some strong, invisible force that wouldn't break unless both of them broke right along with it.

So... maybe he could afford to leave those pieces of his heart with her. He'd have to if they were going to get out of this alive. Not unscathed, sure, but alive nonetheless.

Once he was sure she was deep in sleep, Spencer quietly and carefully got off the bed and navigated through her apartment, getting her a glass of water and leaving it on the table next to her bed. And because he couldn't help it, he cleaned up some of the clothes that were scattered around her floor, depositing them into the hamper and straightening out a few more things that were out of place.

He looked over at her sleeping figure one more time, sighed, and then left, keeping her bedroom door open just a crack.

***

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer.

Despite his better judgement, he'd plopped himself down on her couch after making sure she was sound asleep, hoping to catch his breath and sort through what he was feeling before he got behind the wheel. But of course, it was 2am and he was exhausted, and he couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and drifting off.

And now he was sitting up, looking around the apartment through the lens of morning.

Though the curtains were sheer, they didn't provide much light, but enough of it showed him just how familiar the space was. Y/N hadn't moved anything around. The same art was on the same walls, the potted ivy plant on her mantle sat un-watered and withering, and every book and record and DVD on her shelves was in the exact same spot as they'd all been the last time he was there in December.

Meanwhile, after the breakup he'd re-arranged everything. He was so sure that they were through for good this time around that he wanted a clean slate. Not that he wanted to rid himself of her memory completely, but if he was going to move on from the hold she'd had on him, he had to do something...

And yet, he ended up at her apartment the morning after Valentine's Day all the same.

He heard the shower running faintly a couple rooms away. You didn't have to pass the couch to get there, so maybe she hadn't seen him sleeping and he could get away cleanly.

Spencer scrambled off the couch, thankful that he hadn't removed his jacket or his shoes and that he could just sprint towards the door without having to find any of his belongings.

But as luck would have it, the second he took a step, the shower turned off. He had to get out of there quickly, but if he did then she'd definitely know he'd stayed overnight. But if he went quietly, he wouldn't have enough time before she caught him.

Maybe I could hide...

He shook the thought with a roll of his eyes, settling on the clearest course of action, which was to make as quick of a getaway as he could. He'd try to be quiet as well, though the creaky door was going to be nearly impossible to get through without a sound.

His hand was on the doorknob when he heard her voice.

"You didn't think you could spend the night and then leave without saying goodbye, did 'ja?"

The pure amusement in her tone made his stomach churn, and it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest.

Spencer turned and smiled softly, avoiding looking at her completely. "Sorry. Didn't want to bother you."

"You're never a bother."

That sentiment held less amusement and more sincerity, which was what guided his eyes to meet the woman who said the words.

His stomach twisted again when he saw her, exactly like he knew she'd be— wrapped in nothing but a thin towel with near-dripping hair cascading down her back. Her legs were bare and exposed, the towel not only thin but short, which meant that her chest was also practically spilling out of it. Despite the obvious and inevitable hungover look in her eye, there was also a good splash of that mischief that'd always been there— the kind that spelled out trouble.

He needed to get out of there.

"Well, um... I'm glad I got you home safe," he said, clearing his throat. "I should... I should go."

"You sure you don't wanna stay for breakfast?"

Spencer could have sworn she was teasing him, dangling her body in front of him like a meal they both knew he wouldn't be able to resist. But then she added, "I've got everything I need for your favorite omelet," and he exhaled with a small smile, exhausted with his own mind for convincing him that she was out to pull him back in.

Still, he declined. "No, I... I shouldn't. But, uh, thank you..."

"You sure?"

This time when he looked up at her, she was closer. She was gently striding forward to meet him, and he half thought about backing up towards the door until he realized he was already there.

"I—I'm sure. Really."

"But you drove around all night just to take me home when I was drunk, the least I can do is feed you..."

"Eh, it's alright. It's... Nothing I haven't done before."

She stopped then, her eyes briefly dropping to the floor. It was like her whole demeanor changed—just for a second—from the prowess she'd always been, to what seemed to be a woman filled with sadness and regret. It didn't last long though, just enough for Spencer to notice it before she looked back up at him with that wicked gleam in her eye and a remark right at the tip of her tongue.

"Still. I feel bad, making you do all that for me... Especially now."

He wasn't sure what to make of this... It seemed like she was sincere, but she was also alluring, calling to him like a siren leading him to his ultimate demise. And while he'd come to know that as merely a part of her nature, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was doing it on purpose.

She was in a skimpy towel, after all, and she definitely knew how to use that to her advantage.

It didn't help that he didn't have the courage to leave. Everything inside of him right then longed to drop that towel and indulge himself once more. Putting aside all the heartache and the differences they shared, all he felt in that moment was the need to touch her— to get lost in her and never be found again.

She was his fatal flaw, and it was painfully obvious.

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer...

He was over to her in just three strides, throwing off his jacket and tossing it aside before cradling her face with his hands and bringing their lips together for the first time since Christmas Eve.

The small whine in her throat signaled that she hadn't expected it, but welcomed it all the same. The moment she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, the towel fell to the floor, and there was no going back.

"What about breakfast?" Y/N breathed out once they pulled away for air.

Spencer contemplated, studying her face, seeing the way her eyes sparkled, and decided on the two words that sealed his fate.

"Screw breakfast."

Their lips were melded together almost as soon as the words left his mouth. And it wasn't long before every other part of their bodies were melded together as well.

Y/N helped him take the rest of his clothes off as they danced around the entryway and the living room. Everything was open, no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, so to compensate for the lack of breakfast they'd be eating, they migrated to the kitchen counter once Spencer had off everything but his boxers.

He trapped her against the cool marble of the countertop, her back hitting it solid and sending a shiver up her spine. Meanwhile his hands roamed her body, unsure of where to be other than on her at all times, whether it be her waist, her stomach, her arms, her breasts, or her ass. He wanted to feel all of her, and quite frankly she wanted the same.

She even told him so, in her own way, by bringing one of her legs up and wrapping it around his waist, pulling him closer to her as she wove her fingers through his hair and tasted his tongue with her own.

The action elicited a groan from his mouth, low and desperate. Spencer settled his hands on her waist and gripped it tight, silently telling her what to do.

So she jumped up and he helped guide her swiftly onto the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist again, and he found himself grinding into her hips, urgent to feel every part of her. And thankfully she was feeling rather desperate herself, because she rolled her hips up into him in return, breaking their mouths apart just briefly to speak.

"Fuck me..."

There was so much he wanted to say to her in that moment— how badly he was feeling about keeping her entertained while he was slowly deteriorating inside from her emotional detachment and rejection, how much she frustrated him, and more prominently, how she was so goddamn impatient and that he was getting there...

But all that he could manage was a broken, desperate whisper of her name.

It was all he'd ever known.

All that frustration... All that anger, heartache, passion, and time apart combined beautifully into those few syllables that made up her name and tore him apart from the inside out.

And his hands were just as destructive.

Spencer deftly dropped his boxers to the ground and pushed forward, almost losing all sense of self the moment the head of his dick finally made contact with her cunt. He made his way inside of her and then used both of his hands to grip her waist and bring her closer, their mouths connecting harshly as they found one another once again.

His grip was bruising— not possessive in any way, but desperate, like he had to cling to her for dear life or he wouldn't live to see another day. He held himself inside her, sighing and whimpering into her mouth as she clenched around him. It was so familiar, so comfortable and exhilarating that he almost didn't even want to move. He thought about staying there, still inside her forever.

But as always, Y/N was insatiable.

She wrapped all her limbs around him and held on, rolling her hips and seeking friction in any way possible when she briefly tore her lips away from his.

"I need you, baby, please..."

Even as his heart started to rumble in his chest, well aware of the fact that she still probably didn't love him the way he loved her, Spencer gave her everything. He pulled out and snapped his hips forward again, setting a strong, steady pace that had Y/N's eyes rolling back, and the payoff of hearing her sigh out his name was more than enough to keep him going.

Her nails dug deliciously into his shoulders, the faint sting adding something reminiscent of gasoline to a fire. The flames grew taller and brighter the more he fucked her, and with each gradual increase of volume and intensity, it was a wonder the whole kitchen around them hadn't literally burst into flames.

That's how they always were.

Together like this, so lost in the high of each others' bodies, it was easy to forget the things that made their relationship so hard. It was easy to let all the negativity slip away into the throes of pent-up, well-needed sex. The high they gave each other was merely that— A high...

A distraction.

And while that's exactly what Y/N needed, what she preferred in most cases, it's what Spencer recognized as completely unhealthy, despite his coming back to it every time.

It's also why he dreaded the moment ending. Because once they came down from the high, all that's left would be sadness, regret... Guilt... Their fire burned hot, brightly and wildly, but in the aftermath would lay only a thick layer of deadly smoke between them— hard to navigate, and nearly impossible to breathe in without suffocating.

So they simply burned and burned and burned...

Spencer gripped her so tight he was sure to leave her with bruising. And in turn Y/N dragged her nails down his back and dug them into his ass, her palm laying firmly over the muscles that aided in fucking her into the marbled surface. She whined out curses and moans, and he cried out broken whispers of her name, pet names, and curses alike.

Even once she'd come, he kept going, willing himself to hold on as long as he could. She whined into his ear at the overstimulation. And rather than keeping her legs wrapped around his body, she decided to spread them wide, perching her heels up on the counter as far as she could go and anchoring her fingers through his hair.

And though she might not have had enough orgasms in her to keep up with him, she welcomed it all the same—She welcomed the burn just as much as he did.

Even still, no fire can burn forever.

All concept of time was lost by the time Spencer finally collapsed forward, completely spent and barely standing on weak legs after coming twice. Y/N held onto him tightly to keep him upwards, lightly massaging his scalp with gentle fingers and closing her eyes as she focused on his breathing— the way it fanned over the skin of her bare shoulder and how it sounded, perfectly in time with hers...

It was the most peaceful she'd been in a long time.

She felt him pull out of her, the both of them groaning at the feeling, and a little at the mess it would make.

Spencer gently peeled his body off of hers, sniffing once and avoiding her eyes. "Sorry... You just got out of the shower..."

"It's fine," Y/N breathed. She begged him silently to look her in the eye, but he remained still... Most likely thinking. She could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

So, in an effort to lighten the mood a bit, she added with a breathy laugh, "Besides... It's nothing I haven't done before."

The callback to his words—and memories of all the times they'd found themselves in this position before—got Spencer to laugh a little, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "I'll... I'll grab the wipes?"

"Oh. Sure," Y/N returned with a thankful smile. It was hopeful, too, though the moment he was out of eyesight, it turned rather sad.

She'd known that behavior before, seen that hesitation in his movements and that sound in his voice.

It was guilt.

Regret.

Probably a bit of self-hatred, too.

When he returned, a pile of her clothes in hand and the bag of wipes on top, she took them from him with a kind smile and cleaned herself up while he put his clothes back on.

The silence was more uncomfortable than anything either of them had ever experienced.

So much so, that Y/N couldn't even muster up the courage to ask him to stay for breakfast— and she always did after one of their post-break hookups.

Maybe this time really was different.

Spencer was just at the door again when she stopped him.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was so small, he almost didn't hear it. "For bringing me home..."

But he paused, turned, and finally looked her in the eye.

He almost sunk to his knees right there...

Seeing her, arms crossed like she was trying to keep warm, as her head hung low and she looked up at him through sad, hooded eyelids...

It reminded him of the woman he fell in love with.

But in his peripheral, he saw the towel on the floor and was reminded of the woman who'd shattered his heart.

Spencer cleared his throat. Once upon a time he might have returned her thanks with, Anytime, but... Honestly he wasn't sure there could ever be another time. For his sanity, he'd have to avoid 'anytime' at all costs.

So, he settled on, "You're welcome."

He was glad to see her return his kind smile with one of her own, even if it was tainted with sadness, and a small wave goodbye.

Maybe this time it would stick.

Even still, as he closed the door behind him and made his way to the parking lot, for some reason it didn't quite feel like goodbye.

And some of that deadly smoke that settled in his lungs as he drove further and further away from her apartment was inclined to agree.

***

Neither of them could sleep that night.

While Spencer stared out the window of the jet, a little annoyed to be called out on a case so late but at least thankful for the distraction, Y/N laid in bed, staring at the stars on her ceiling.

The same constellation caught their eye.

Columba.

The Dove.

She hadn't even meant to arrange the stars like that, but one night after a date, they were laying in her bed and Spencer pointed out that the cluster of plastic stars right in the corner of the ceiling looked like Columba.

Y/N fondly remembered Spencer telling her about how it was originally named to represent Noah's dove, which searched for dry land during the great biblical flood and returned carrying an olive branch to make news of its recession— of peace at last.

The memory made her smile. It tugged at her heart and made her dreams of him even more vivid.

All the same, Spencer noticed the constellation outside the jet window and remembered that same night. The smile on her face as he told her the story, the feel of her fingers gliding softly over the bare skin of his forearm...

It was the first night since he'd met her that he thought it.

I love her...

He almost told her then, too, but he was afraid it was too soon. So he refrained.

Looking back, Spencer was starting to regret that— Maybe without that extra time together, breaking up would have been easier. But instead, he gave her more time. He gave himself more time to fall deeper in love with her, and in the end it still wasn't enough.

Now they were both looking at the same constellation, one made of plastic and the other of gas, wondering if their flood would ever recede.

And in the event that it did... Who would be the dove, and what would be their olive branch?

“You know I dream about getting back together in the future, I could focus on you. But if I leave right now, I hope that you don’t find someone that touches you the way that I do...”

***

SERIES TAGLIST: @reidyoulikeabook @yourmisosoup @fortheloveofcriminalminds @bellzo17 @altsvu @flipperpenguins @mcumorningstar

TAGS NOT WORKING: @reid-to-me @totallyclearwitch

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #losing you twice

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cuddles-and-kisses · 3 years

Text

So The Cat's Out Of The Bag,,,

Another fanfic for Agapito (an OC that belongs to @yandereaffections) The story starts under the cut. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1,908 Trigger Warnings: Subtle yandereness, I can't think of any others

It’s 11 pm. I’ve been avoiding schoolwork all day and I’m in no rush to fix it. I've been writing fanfiction, of sorts, for the past 3 hours. On the bright side, the first draft is done! My back hurts from sitting so long while my butt hurts because I’ve sat on a wooden stool this long. I need to take a break but what to do? Oh, what to do? My weekly planner is wide open on a bookstand to my right. I could be productive, or I could keep avoiding them... So the planner is closed now. I’ve reorganized pens in a pen cup for the seventh time. Is there a limit to how many times a person can adjust a desk lamp before going insane? There has to be something else to do but what? As if on cue, my phone lights up with a text from my Baby. We’ve been official for 6 months so our dates are a lot more casual nowadays.

“Angel, I want attention. Unlock the back door” I’m aware it doesn’t seem like it but this is how he asks to come over. He won’t come over until I respond giving the green light. “Bold of you to assume I’m home and not partying at a random frat house” We both know I’m not doing jack at 11 pm on a Friday. Nonetheless, it’s fun to pretend I have a flourishing social life. “That’s cute. Back door please” Alright, now to get up and- ow, fuck, ouchie, ok, hold on. *POP* There we go!

I should probably pick my room up real quick. I made my bed earlier today so that’s not a problem. The svallerup rug from Ikea collects dirt a lot faster than I expected. Although would he really notice? It’s not bright in here. My dresser by the door looks fine. The futon is in couch mode, so there’s not much left I don’t have to clean up for him. In reality, I’m not cleaning for him, I just like having a clean room. The last thing I do is turn on the fairy lights above my head then light a vanilla candle. I know he’s coming over to cuddle or really do anything involving him getting affection. I might as well make my bedroom reflect that, right?

I half-jog upstairs to unlock our back door. Why the back door? It’s not because I love Jesus. Let me explain. The living room floor creaks way too loud. Also, my parent’s bedroom is right next to that door. The side door alerts our dogs to start pitching a fit. How can they hear it from the opposite side of our house? I may never be able to understand. Moonlight drifts halfway across the backroom. Sparse nightlights cover the remaining needed light. I flick on the backdoor lights followed by opening a few blinds to let more light in. Their orange glow overpowers the moonlight near the backdoor.

For whatever reason, the moon is far brighter tonight. Or my pupils are hella dilated because I’m thinking about my Baby. Either way, moonlight dusts over parts of the backroom and kitchen ahead of me. One last light to turn on. An LED light above our kitchen sink smashes through most surrounding darkness, making it almost impossible to see into the living room. White cabinets outline our kitchen. None of the cabinets match each other in this house. It’s as if this house was built in parts instead of planned out from the start. The counter is occupied with things you’d expect; a bread box, knife set, fruit basket, coffee pot, and an air fryer. Yet, there's evidence real people live here. Crumbs from a snack, mail by the fruit basket, half-empty coffee pot, as well as children’s toys forgotten all about

Everyone else is snuggled up in warm beds, sleeping. I can pick out each person’s snoring pattern when they poke through tonight’s ambiance. There are moments where quiet feels like serenity, others where it feels like emptiness. I can’t decide which one I’m feeling because I realize I’m about to have a visitor. A cup of coffee sounds like the perfect way to waste a few minutes while waiting for my lover.

Coffee cup out of the overhead cabinet. A coffee spoon from beside the coffee pot. Fake sugar off the shelves. Room temperature coffee in the pot from this morning. French vanilla coffee creamer out of the fridge. And just like that, a proper cup of coffee is served. Light reflects off the glossy coating painted over our pale coffee cups. Mom considers it a priority to have everything match or look cohesive. Appearing put together is a source of pride for her. A cup is a cup however matching cups make her happy. My ears perk up at hearing his tires pulling into the driveway. My coffee creamer swirls in the cup as he walks up the driveway. The coffee spoon clings against the inside of my coffee cup simultaneously with the creak of our back gate. All that’s left is to wash off this week’s coffee spoon then put it back. I have only a few more seconds until my Love is with me again. I’m a sappy and hopeful romantic for him, get off my back. He’s learned how to silently open the back door and if I didn’t have good peripheral vision, I would’ve yelped.

Intimate hands snake around my hips as a tender kiss is pressed against my neck. I can feel the tender smile tugging at his lips after the kiss, he had a really good day? His body is pressed against mine as he murmurs “Honey, I’m home~” behind my ear; earning a soft chuckle from me. I turn to face him, wrap my arms around his neck, and greet him with a deep kiss. This time on the lips. “Welcome home, my Love.” He’s so close to me, I can smell the cigarette he had on his way over here. The absence of alcohol or weed stench affirms he didn’t have a bad day at work. I can’t wait until these interactions become a daily occurrence. This man is breathtaking under normal circumstances; but, under the glimmer of moonlight,,, I can’t form a single thought while looking at him. The raw admiration and love this man holds in his eyes? Who could stand a chance against him? Not me. Wrong choice.

His hands linger along the sides of my hips. I hold his arms in an attempt to keep him close to me, just a little longer. “I brought you a few things. I’ll go set them on your desk.” He knows gifts aren’t my thing in spite of that he claims I deserve the entire universe. I breathed out, “Ok, I’ll be down in a minute,” then started moving to get my coffee cup, as well as a few snacks to bring downstairs. He starts heading downstairs content with how flustered I am. WAIT A FLUFFING MINUTE THE FANFICTION IS ABOUT HIM!! I whisper yell ‘Baby’ until his head pops back around the corner. I threaten him to not touch or look at my laptop. It was a pathetic attempt considering what he does for a living. In my defense, I tried. I forgot he’s in essence an overgrown teenager who will do the exact opposite of what he’s told. Wanna know what he does? Grin. I’m so fucked.

Agapito dashes downstairs and leaves me in unadulterated fear. I’m frozen in place, trying to come to terms with my fate as his footsteps fade. It’s not smut or anything, just a simple night and morning routine imagining that we lived together. This is going to be so embarrassing. Please spare me this treacherous fate and undying embarrassment. Deep breaths, just take deep breaths. Get your coffee then snacks then, simply, accept what’s just happened.

With arms full of snacks, I shut my bedroom door as gingerly as I can. Setting the cup on the dresser right by the door to make this a little easier. He’s standing at my computer, reading through the last page. Oh hey, he brought me Rolo’s as well as 3 Musketeers. Nice! Oh wait, he’s done reading. His shoulders aren’t tense; his breathing hasn’t changed; all the same, he’s just standing there. “Why did you write this out instead of doing it?” That’s a good question tbh. My Baby’s voice sounds hurt, despite that, he’s trying to hide it. Ok, he needs a hug. Now to throw the snack on the bed. He needs a rib-crushing hug and you bet your butt I’ll be the one to deliver. I tug at his elbow so he’ll face me then pull him into me. His shoulders are right under my chin when we’re facing each other. I bury my face in his neck while my arms hug him as tight as I can. Except why is he upset about this?

His love for me is nothing to scoff at. He loves me the same way he wanted to be loved when he was younger. We’ve figured out he’s catching up from his pre-teen years and onward. So about 13 years without a stable romantic relationship. When he was trying to court me I had to call him out all the time for manipulation. I know he’s terrified I’ll think he’s not good enough. He has episodes of frantic attempts to meet all of my needs, even if it’s not asked for or needed. What is going through his head? Does he feel like he’s not good enough? That he’s not loving me enough so I have to turn to a fictional version of him? Does he think he’s not good enough for me to do this stuff with him? None of those are true, obviously. I explicitly stated that in the story he just read. It doesn’t mean he won’t get stuck inside his head. I need to tell him the truth. Even if I wanted to lie, I couldn’t, he’s a finely-tuned human lie detector. One more deep breath. Squeeze him a little tighter. Look him in his eyes and come clean.

“The reason I didn’t just act these out is because, I didn’t know how to ask for it.” His expression shifts from confused hurt to understanding. I start rambling, “I want to have these experiences with you. I’d give anything to have that life with you but we've only been dating for 6 months and I just, wasn’t sure, how to phrase it.” I’m choking on my own pulse from emotions. I realize I was shifting my weight left to right when he pulls me in for another hug and kisses my forehead. We stand there in each other’s embrace for a few moments before he suggests I come to his house tomorrow night. We both know what he’s suggesting. I can’t help but adamantly agree. Excitement zips through my body thinking about tomorrow night. A smile pulls at my lips as I ask, “Do you mind if I wear this shirt tomorrow night?”

Tonight is about Netflix, snacks, and rediscovering the curves and contours of each other’s bodies. Though, not before I mess up his hair while calling him a butthead. It’s evident his insecurities are still tugging at him. Funny enough, his insecurities forgot they’re fighting against me for his attention.

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perriewinklenerdie · 3 years

Text

Out of reach (Ethan x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 1,4 k

Summary: Ethan likes to tease Claire for her height. Claire patiently waits for it to bite him in the ass. or: Two moments when they needed each other for their height.

Warnings: None

A/N: Got inspired by one of the MO chapters and also by my own adventures as a creature with the height of 160 cm. Fluffy chaos ensued.

Claire:

The intense smell of her cooking was wafting through their apartment, filling the space gently. Claire’s spent the past three hours preparing their dinner, reading an article as she waited for the sauce to reduce and gain flavor.

Her phone lit up with a notification – a text from her husband, announcing that he was going to be home within the next ten minutes and asking if anything needed to be picked up by him. She responded, requesting a bottle of good wine.

‘Good? You insult me.’ he responded, and she could practically hear him laughing.

‘Do your worst, Dr. Ramsey’ she shot back, putting the phone down, satisfied.

And so, ten minutes later, she was preparing to finish up their food. The last thing she needed was a box of pasta, which usually sat on the middle shelf in their pantry. But that day, it sat on the highest shelf, right below the ceiling and she remembered that it was Ethan that put away their groceries the night before. Her stool, that was there exactly for situations like these, was mysteriously gone, and no chair could get her high enough.

Luckily for her, the door just opened, and she could hear Ethan’s footsteps. His briefcase hit the ground and the next thing she could hear was his voice.

“Honey, I’m home!”

“In the pantry!” she shouted back, staring at the box of pasta with wild determination. That’s how Ethan found her, an endearing smile pulling on the corners of his lips when he saw his wife.

“What did the box do to you?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her to pull her to his side. His lips pressed against her forehead in a greeting, a low hum ringing through his entire body.

“You placed it on the highest shelf and my stool is nowhere to be found. Can you get it for me, please?” Claire explained, looking up at him with a hopeful gaze. Ethan laughed, brushing his nose against hers softly.

“My tiny wife.” He muttered, pecking her lips once before reaching for the box – demonstrating his height smugly. She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“My gigantic husband thinks he’s being smart, huh? Just wait until you need more legroom on our next flight, and you have to deal with your long legs.”

“That’s why we pay for first class, honey. So I don’t have to worry about legroom. And besides.” He wrapped his arm around her again, leaning down to throw her over his shoulder. “You being so tiny makes it incredibly easy for me to do this anytime I want.” Claire shrieked, laughing happily as he walked them both out to the kitchen. “Now, what do you say we finish our dinner?”

“The wine cannot be wasted.” She agreed, shaking her head at his antics.

Ethan:

The sun shone brightly, warming his back, covered with a black t-shirt. His muscles tensed and relaxed while he adjusted the position the wooden planks, eyes roaming their backyard to figure out where he left the hammer.

Usually, Ethan would call someone in to fix the issue – three of the planks of their patio broke and made it a safety hazard to walk around. They hosted a party two days ago and Bryce got a little too excited while carrying a bottle of tequila. As he was walking from the house, he jumped, presenting the bottle. That’s when the wood gave out under him and it broke, along with the bottle of alcohol that hit the ground soon after.

But he couldn’t call anyone in. It was a Sunday, a day so hot that no sane person wanted to be anywhere near the outside atmosphere. In the past, maybe he would have waited. Ethan was no carpenter, and neither was he a fixer upper. But his little daughter – two-year-old Katherine – loved to walk, especially outside, and no temperature, hot or cold, could stop her. Needless to say, all Ethan could imagine was his child, hurting herself on the broken wood and nails sticking up from the surface.

So there he was, working for the past two hours to fix what’s been broken. He was convinced that he left the hammer right by his side. But it was nowhere to be found, so he decided to push down his frustration – he hated not knowing how to excel at things – and search for it again.

He found it, right below the patio – and right out of his reach. He tried, really tried, to reach it, multiple times, but his arms weren’t long enough and his body was too big to fit underneath the wood.

There was, however, a person at the house that just might fit into the tight space.

“Honey, can you come here for a second?” he called out, knowing that she was sitting in the living room, watching him from time to time. A moment later, his wife appeared in the doorway, a soft smile on her lips.

“Are you hanging in there?” Claire asked softly, leaning against the doorframe. Ethan breathed out, sitting back on his legs.

“It’s a bit more challenging than I thought it would be, but I’m getting there.”

“You do know that we can just keep Kat away from here for a day, right? She’ll be fine.” She reasoned, walking up to him so she could sit at the edge of the patio – the untouched part. His hand landed on her thigh, squeezing it gently.

“Our daughter loves to play outside, I’m not going to limit her just because the patio is broken.” Ethan responded, determinedly, locking his eyes with hers. She melted a bit, seeing all the love this once cold man had for his family.

“You called for me, I assume you had a reason.”

“Yes.” He pointed towards the space beneath the wooden planks. “Can you see that hammer?”

She leaned down, squinting her eyes. Nodding, she straightened her back, sitting again. “How did it even get there?”

“That’s a brilliant question that I do not have the answer to. But that’s not why I called you here.” He took her hand. “Since I’m too tall, I can’t fit in there to reach it. You, my dear, on the other hand, might be able to reach it.”

Claire stared at him for a moment, not believing that the moment was finally here. After years of him teasing her for her height, the time has come for the roles to be reversed. “Let me get this straight. You want me to fit into this tiny, tiny gap beneath our patio because you lost your hammer?”

“Yes, pretty much.”

“But we have another hammer in the garage! I can even go and bring it to you!” she argued, pointing with her arm towards the second building on their property. Ethan shook his head.

“And leave this one in there? That’s not how either of us do things and you know it.”

She gathered his face into her hands, smiling sweetly. Their lips met in a slow kiss, and he was beginning to think that she agreed, when Claire leaned back, a tiny smirk on her face when she spoke up.

“I’m very sorry, baby, I don’t think it’s gonna happen. Your wife may be small, but she also has awful claustrophobia. Unless you want to deal with a panic attack, I don’t think that’s worth it.” his head fell onto her shoulder with a resigned groan. She brushed his hair back. “You can fish it out with a broom. I’ll get it for you.”

And then she was gone. Ethan considered the frustration he felt arising in his chest, but then resigned to laughing. Of course, she was claustrophobic. He remembered, very clearly, their trip to Egypt and how she refused to go into the tombs of the pharaoh.

She brought him the broom and offered to occupy their daughter while he finished his task. He agreed, thanking her quietly, then tried to do as she told him – the broom almost got stuck in there too, but he managed, at last.

Another two hours later, he was finished, and their daughter ran onto the patio with a happy laugh. He embraced his wife, both of them smiling as they watched Kat play.

Notes

Ethan the giraffe doesn’t get the short people struggles - something Claire doesn’t shy away from reminding him. At least she can wear heels or climb that man like a tree

Thank you so much for reading, see you soon!

Perrie <3

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc

67 notes · View notes

iamshwee · 3 years

Text

SHADOW WORK: The Ultimate Guide

I. Why Focusing Only on the Light is a Form of Escapism

For most of my life, I’ve grown up firmly believing that the only thing worthy of guiding me was “light” and “love.” Whether through the family environment I was raised in, or the cultural myths I was brought up clinging to, I once believed that all you really needed to do in life to be happy was to focus on everything beautiful, positive and spiritually “righteous.” I’m sure you were raised believing a similar story as well. It’s a sort of “Recipe for Well-Being.”

But a few years ago, after battling ongoing mental health issues, I realized something shocking:

I was wrong.

Not just wrong, but completely and utterly off the mark. Focusing only on “love and light” will not heal your wounds on a deep level. In fact, I’ve learned through a lot of heavy inner work, that not only is focusing solely on “holiness” in life one side of the equation, but it is actually a form of spiritually bypassing your deeper, darker problems that, let me assure you, almost definitely exist.

It is very easy and comfortable to focus only on the light side of life. So many people in today’s world follow this path. And while it might provide some temporary emotional support, it doesn’t reach to the depths of your being: it doesn’t transform you at a core level. Instead, it leaves you superficially hanging onto warm and fuzzy platitudes which sound nice, but don’t enact any real change.

What DOES touch the very depths of your being, however, is exploring your Shadow.

II. What is the Human Shadow?

In short, the human shadow is our dark side; our lost and forgotten disowned self.

Your shadow is the place within you that contains all of your secrets, repressed feelings, primitive impulses, and parts deemed “unacceptable,” shameful, “sinful” or even “evil.”

This dark place lurking within your unconscious mind also contains suppressed and rejected emotions such as rage, jealousy, hatred, greed, deceitfulness, and selfishness.

So where did the Shadow Self idea originate? The concept was originally coined and explored by Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, Carl Jung. In Jung��s own words:

“Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.”

When the human Shadow is shunned, it tends to undermine and sabotage our lives. Addictions, low self-esteem, mental illness, chronic illnesses, and various neuroses are all attributed to the Shadow Self. When our Shadows are suppressed or repressed in the unconscious long enough, they can even overtake our entire lives and causes psychosis or extreme forms of behavior like cheating on one’s partner or physically harming others. Intoxicants such as alcohol and drugs also have a tendency to unleash the Shadow.

Thankfully, there is a way to explore the Shadow and prevent it from devouring our existence, and that is called Shadow Work.

III. What is Shadow Work?

Shadow work is the process of exploring your inner darkness or “Shadow Self.” As mentioned previously, your Shadow Self is part of your unconscious mind and contains everything you feel ashamed of thinking and feeling, as well as every impulse, repressed idea, desire, fear, and perversion that for one reason or another, you have “locked away” consciously or unconsciously. Often this is done as a way of keeping yourself tame, likable, and “civilized” in the eyes of others.

Shadow work is the attempt to uncover everything that we have hidden and every part of us that has been disowned and rejected within our Shadow Selves.

Why? Because without revealing to ourselves what we have hidden, we remain burdened with problems such as anger, guilt, shame, disgust, and grief.

All throughout the history of mankind Shadow Work has played a powerful yet mysterious and occult role in helping us discover what is causing us mental illness, physical dis-ease and even insanity resulting in crimes of all kinds.

Traditionally, Shadow Work fell in the realm of the Shamans, or medicine people, as well as the priests and priestesses of the archaic periods of history. These days, Shadow Work falls more commonly in the realms of psychotherapy, with psychologists, psychiatrists, spiritual guides, and therapists.

IV. Do We All Have a Shadow Self?

Yes, we ALL have a Shadow Self.

As uncomfortable as it may sound, there is a dark side within every human being. Why is this the case? The reason why all human beings have a shadow is due to the way we were raised as human beings, often referred to as our ‘conditioning.’

“But I’m a good person! I don’t have a ‘shadow’ side,” you might be thinking. Well, the reality is that yes, you might be a good person. In fact, you might be the most generous, loving, and selfless person in the entire world. You might feed the hungry, save puppies, and donate half of your salary to the poor. But that doesn’t exclude you from having a Shadow.

There are no exceptions here.

The nature of being human is to possess both a light and a dark side, and we need to embrace that.

Sometimes, when people hear that they have a Shadow side (or when it is pointed out), there is a lot of denial. We have been taught to perceive ourselves in a very two-dimensional and limited way. We have been taught that only criminals, murderers, and thieves have a Shadow side.

This black and white thinking is one of the major causes of our suffering.

If the thought of having a Shadow side disturbs you, take a moment to consider whether you have developed an idealized self.

Signs of an idealized self include attitudes such as:

· “I’m not like those people, I’m better.”

· “I have never strayed.”

· “God is proud of me.”

· “Criminals and wrongdoers aren’t human.”

· “Everyone sees how good I am (even so, I have to remind them).”

· “I’m a role model.”

· “I should be validated and applauded for my good deeds.”

· “I don’t have bad thoughts, so why do others?”

Such perceptions about oneself are unrealistic, unhealthy, and largely delusional. The only way to find inner peace, happiness, authentic love, self-fulfillment, and Illumination is to explore our Shadow.

V. How is Our Shadow Side Formed?

Your Shadow side is formed in childhood and is both (a) a product of natural ego development, and (b) a product of conditioning or socialization. Socialization is the process of learning to behave in a way that is acceptable to society.

When we are born, we are are all full of potential, with the ability to survive and develop in a variety of ways. As time goes on, we learn more and more to become a certain type of person. Slowly, due to our circumstances and preferences, we begin to adopt certain character traits and reject others. For example, if we are born into a family that shows little interpersonal warmth, we will develop personality traits that make us self-sufficient and perhaps standoffish or mind-oriented. If we are born into a family that rewards compliance and shuns rebellion, we will learn that being submissive works, and thus adopt that as part of our ego structure.

As authors and Jungian therapists, Steve Price and David Haynes write:

“But, as we develop our ego-personality, we also do something else at the same time. What has happened to all those parts of our original potential that we didn’t develop? They won’t just cease to exist: they will still be there, as potential or as partly developed, then rejected, personality attributes, and they will live on in the unconscious as an alternative to the waking ego. So, by the very act of creating a specifically delineated ego-personality, we have also created its opposite in the unconscious. This is the shadow. Everyone has one.”

As we can see, developing the Shadow Self is a natural part of development.

But you also formed an alter ego due to social conditioning, i.e. your parents, family members, teachers, friends, and society at large all contributed to your Shadow.

How?

Well here’s the thing: polite society operates under certain rules. In other words, certain behaviors and characteristics are approved of, while others are shunned. Take anger for example. Anger is an emotion that is commonly punished while growing up. Throwing tantrums, swearing, and destroying things was frowned upon by our parents and teachers. Therefore, many of us learned that expressing anger was not “OK.” Instead of being taught healthy ways to express our anger, we were punished sometimes physically (with smacks or being grounded), and often emotionally (withdrawal of love and affection).

There are countless behaviors, emotions, and beliefs that are rejected in society, and thus, are rejected by ourselves. In order to fit in, be accepted, approved, and loved, we learned to act a certain way. We adopted a role that would ensure our mental, emotional, and physical survival. But at the same time, wearing a mask has consequences. What happened to all the authentic, wild, socially taboo, or challenging parts of ourselves? They were trapped in the Shadow.

What happens as we grow up?

Through time, we learn to both enjoy, and despise, our socially-approved egos because, on the one hand, they make us feel good and “lovable,” but on the other hand, they feel phony and inhibited.

Therapist Steve Wolf has a perfect analogy that describes this process:

“Each of us is like Dorian Gray. We seek to present a beautiful, innocent face to the world; a kind, courteous demeanor; a youthful, intelligent image. And so, unknowingly but inevitably, we push away those qualities that do not fit the image, that does not enhance our self-esteem and make us stand proud but, instead, bring us shame and make us feel small. We shove into the dark cavern of the unconscious those feelings that make us uneasy — hatred, rage, jealousy, greed, competition, lust, shame — and those behaviors that are deemed wrong by the culture — addiction, laziness, aggression, dependency — thereby creating what could be called shadow content. Like Dorian’s painting, these qualities ultimately take on a life of their own, forming an invisible twin that lives just behind our life, or just beside it …”

But while the Shadow Self may be portrayed as our “evil twin,” it is not entirely full of “bad” stuff. There is actually gold to be found within the Shadow.

VI. What is the Golden Shadow?

Jung once states that “the shadow is ninety percent pure gold.” What this means is that there are many beautiful gifts offered to us by our Shadow side if we take the time to look. For example, so much of our creative potential is submerged within our darkness because we were taught when little to reject it.

Not everything within our Shadow is doom and gloom. In fact, the Shadow contains some of our most powerful gifts and talents, such as our artistic, sexual, competitive, innovative, and even intuitive aptitudes.

The ‘Golden Shadow’ also presents us with the opportunity for tremendous psychological and spiritual growth. By doing Shadow Work, we learn that every single emotion and wound that we possess has a gift to share with us. Even the most obnoxious, “ugly,” or shameful parts of ourselves provide a path back to Oneness. Such is the power of the Shadow – it is both a terrifying journey, but is ultimately a path to Enlightenment or Illumination. Every spiritual path needs Shadow Work to prevent the issues from happening that we’ll explore next.

VII. What Happens When You Reject Your Shadow?

When shadow-work is neglected, the soul feels dry, brittle, like an empty vessel. — S. Wolf

Rejecting, suppressing, denying, or disowning your Shadow, whether consciously or unconsciously, is a dangerous thing. The thing about the Shadow Self is that it seeks to be known. It yearns to be understood, explored, and integrated. It craves to be held in awareness. The longer the Shadow stays buried and locked in its jail cell deep within the unconscious, the more it will find opportunities to make you aware of its existence.

Both religion and modern spirituality tend to focus on the “love and light” aspects of spiritual growth to their own doom.

This over-emphasis on the fluffy, transcendental, and feel-good elements of a spiritual awakening results in shallowness and phobia of whatever is too real, earthy, or dark.

Spiritually bypassing one’s inner darkness results in a whole range of serious issues. Some of the most common and reoccurring Shadow issues that appear in the spiritual/religious community include pedophilia among priests, financial manipulation of followers among gurus, and of course, megalomania, narcissism, and God complexes among spiritual teachers.

Other issues that arise when we reject our Shadow side can include:

· Hypocrisy (believing and supporting one thing, but doing the other)

· Lies and self-deceit (both towards oneself and others)

· Uncontrollable bursts of rage/anger

· Emotional and mental manipulation of others

· Greed and addictions

· Phobias and obsessive compulsions

· Racist, sexist, homophobic, and other offensive behavior

· Intense anxiety

· Chronic psychosomatic illness

· Depression (which can turn into suicidal tendencies)

· Sexual perversion

· Narcissistically inflated ego

· Chaotic relationships with others

· Self-loathing

· Self-absorption

· Self-sabotage

… and many others. This is by no means a comprehensive list (and there are likely many other issues out there). As we’ll learn next, one of the greatest ways we reject our Shadow is through psychological projection.

VIII. The Shadow and Projection (a Dangerous Mix)

One of the biggest forms of Shadow rejection is something called projection.

Projection is a term that refers to seeing things in others that are actually within ourselves.

When we pair projection and the Shadow Self together, we have a dangerous mix. Why? Because as psychotherapist Robert A. Johnson writes:

“We generally seek to punish that which reminds us most uncomfortable about the part of ourselves that we have not come to terms with, and we often ‘see’ these disowned qualities in the world around us.”

There are many different ways we ‘punish’ those who are mirrors of our Shadow qualities. We may criticize, reject, hate, dehumanize, or even in extreme cases, physically or psychologically seek to destroy them (think of countries who go at war with the “enemies”). None of us are innocent in this area. We have ALL projected parts of our rejected self onto others. In fact, Shadow projection is a major cause of relationship dysfunction and break down.

If we are seeking to bring peace, love, and meaning to our lives, we absolutely MUST reclaim these projections. Through Shadow Work, we can explore exactly what we have disowned.

IX. Twelve Benefits of Shadow Work

Firstly, I want to say that I have the highest respect for Shadow Work. It is the single most important path I’ve taken to uncover my core wounds, core beliefs, traumas, and projections. I have also observed how Shadow Work has helped to create profound clarity, understanding, harmony, acceptance, release, and inner peace in the lives of others. It is truly deep work that makes changes on the Soul level targeting the very roots of our issues, not just the superficial symptoms.

There is SO much to be gained from making Shadow Work a part of your life, and daily routine. Here are some of the most commonly experienced benefits:

1. Deeper love and acceptance of yourself

2. Better relationships with others, including your partner and children

3. More confidence to be your authentic self

4. More mental, emotional, and spiritual clarity

5. Increased compassion/understanding for others = who you dislike

6. Enhanced creativity

7. Discovery of hidden gifts and talents

8. Deepened understanding of your passions and ultimate life purpose

9. Improved physical and mental health

10. More courage to face the unknown and truly live life

11. Access to your Soul or Higher Self

12. A feeling of Wholeness

It’s important to remember that there are no quick fixes in Shadow Work, so these life-changing benefits don’t just happen overnight. But with persistence, they will eventually emerge and bless your life.

X. Seven Tips for Approaching Shadow Work

Before you begin Shadow Work, you need to assess whether you’re ready to embark on this journey. Not everyone is prepared for this deep work, and that’s fine. We’re all at different stages. So pay attention to the following questions and try to answer them honestly:

· Have you practiced self-love yet?

o If not, Shadow Work will be too overwhelming for you. I have starred this bullet point because it is essential for you to consider. Shadow Work should not be attempted by those who have poor self-worth or struggle with self-loathing. In other words: if you struggle with severely low self-esteem, please do not attempt Shadow Work. I emphatically warn you against doing it. Why? If you struggle with extremely poor self-worth, exploring your Shadow will likely make you feel ten times worse about yourself. Before you walk this path, you absolutely must establish a strong and healthy self-image. No, you don’t have to think you’re God’s gift to the world, but having average self-worth is important. Try taking this self-esteem test to explore whether you’re ready (but first, don’t forget to finish this article!).

· Are you prepared to make time?

o Shadow Work is not a lukewarm practice. You are either all in or all out. Yes, it is important to take a break from it from time to time. But Shadow Work requires dedication, self-discipline, and persistence. Are you willing to intentionally carve out time each day to dedicate to it? Even just ten minutes a day is a good start.

· Are you looking to be validated or to find the truth?

o As you probably know by now, Shadow Work isn’t about making you feel special. It isn’t like typical spiritual paths that are focused on the feel-good. No, Shadow Work can be brutal and extremely confronting. This is a path for truth seekers, not those who are seeking to be validated.

· Seek to enter a calm and neutral space.

o It is important to try and relax when doing Shadow Work. Stress and judgmental or critical attitudes will inhibit the process. So please try to incorporate a calming meditation or mindfulness technique into whatever you do.

· Understand that you are not your thoughts.

o You need to realize that you are not your thoughts for Shadow Work to be healing and liberating. Only from your calm and quiet Center (also known as your Soul) can you truly be aware of your Shadow aspects. By holding them in awareness, you will see them clearly for what they are, and realize that they ultimately don’t define you; they are simply rising and falling mental phenomena.

· Practice self-compassion.

o It is of paramount importance to incorporate compassion and self-acceptance into your Shadow Work practice. Without showing love and understanding to yourself, it is easy for Shadow Work to backfire and make you feel terrible. So focus on generating self-love and compassion, and you will be able to release any shame and embrace your humanity.

· Record everything you find.

o Keep a written journal or personal diary in which you write down, or draw, your discoveries. Recording your dreams, observations, and analysis will help you to learn and grow more effectively. You’ll also be able to keep track of your process and make important connections.

XI. How to Practice Shadow Work

There are many Shadow Work techniques and exercises out there. In this guide, I will provide a few to help you start off. I’ll also share a few examples from my own life:

1. Pay attention to your emotional reactions

In this practice, you’ll learn that what you give power to has power over you. Let me explain:

One Shadow Work practice I enjoy a great deal is paying attention to everything that shocks, disturbs, and secretly thrills me. Essentially, this practice is about finding out what I’ve given the power to in my life unconsciously, because: what we place importance in – whether good or bad – says a lot about us.

The reality is that what we react to, or what makes us angry and distressed, reveals extremely important information to us about ourselves.

For example, by following where my “demons” have taken me – whether in social media, family circles, workspaces, and public places – I have discovered two important things about myself. The first one is that I’m a control freak; I hate feeling vulnerable, powerless and weak . . . it quite simply scares the living hell out of me. How did I discover this? Through my intense dislike of witnessing rape scenes in movies and TV shows, my negative reaction to novel experiences (e.g. roller coaster rides, public speaking, etc.), as well as my discomfort surrounding sharing information about my life with others in conversations. Also, by following where my “demons” have guided me I’ve discovered that I’m being burdened by an exasperating guilt complex that I developed through my religious upbringing. Apart of me wants to feel unworthy because that is what I’ve developed a habit of feeling since childhood (e.g. “You’re a sinner,” “It’s your fault Jesus was crucified”), and therefore, that is what I secretly feel comfortable with feeling: unworthy. So my mind nit-picks anything I might have done “wrong,” and I’m left with the feeling of being “bad” – which I’m used to, but nevertheless, this is destructive for my well-being.

Thanks to this practice, I have welcomed more compassion, mindfulness, and forgiveness into my life.

Paying attention to your emotional reactions can help you to discover exactly how your core wounds are affecting you on a daily basis.

How to Pay Attention to Your Emotional Reactions

To effectively pay attention to your emotional reactions (I call it “following the trail of your inner demons”), you first need to cultivate:

1. Self-awareness

Without being conscious of what you’re doing, thinking, feeling, and saying, you won’t progress very far.

If, however, you are fairly certain that you’re self-aware (or enough to start the process), you will then need to:

2. Adopt an open mindset

You will need to have the courage and willingness to observe EVERYTHING uncomfortable you place importance in, and ask “why?” What do I mean by the phrase “placing importance in”? By this, I mean that, whatever riles, shocks, infuriates, disturbs and terrifies you, you must pay attention to. Closely.

Likely, you will discover patterns constantly emerging in your life. For example, you might be outraged or embarrassed every time sex appears in a TV show or movie you like (possibly revealing sexual repression or mistaken beliefs about sex that you’ve adopted throughout life). Or you might be terrified of seeing death or dead people (possibly revealing your resistance to the nature of life or childhood trauma). Or you might be disgusted by alternative political, sexual, and spiritual lifestyles (possibly revealing your hidden desire to do the same).

There are so many possibilities out there, and I encourage you to go slowly, take your time, and one by one pick through what you place importance in.

“But I DON’T place importance in gross, bad or disturbing things in life, how could I? I don’t care for them!” you might be asking.

Well, think for a moment. If you didn’t place so much importance on what makes you angry, disgusted or upset . . . why would you be reacting to it so much? The moment you emotionally react to something is the moment you have given that thing power over you. Only that which doesn’t stir up emotions in us is not important to us.

See what you respond to and listen to what your Shadow is trying to teach you.

2. Artistically Express Your Shadow Self

Art is the highest form of self-expression and is also a great way to allow your Shadow to manifest itself. Psychologists often use art therapy as a way to help patients explore their inner selves.

Start by allowing yourself to feel (or drawing on any existing) dark emotions. Choose an art medium that calls to you such as pen and pencil, watercolor, crayon, acrylic paint, scrapbooking, sculpting, etc. and draw what you feel. You don’t need to consider yourself an ‘artist’ to benefit from this activity. You don’t even need to plan what you’ll create. Just let your hands, pen, pencil, or paintbrush do the talking. The more spontaneous, the better. Artistic expression can reveal a lot about your obscure darker half. Psychologist Carl Jung (who conceptualized the Shadow Self idea) was even famous for using mandalas in his therapy sessions.

3. Start a Project

The act of creation can be intensely frustrating and can give birth to some of your darker elements such as impatience, anger, blood-thirsty competitiveness, and self-doubt. At the same time, starting a project also allows you to experience feelings of fulfillment and joy.

If you don’t already have a personal project that you’re undertaking (such as building something, writing a book, composing music, mastering a new skill), find something you would love to start doing. Using self-awareness and self-exploration during the process of creation, you will be able to reap deeper insights into your darkness. Ask yourself constantly, “What am I feeling and why?” Notice the strong emotions that arise during the act of creation, both good and bad. You will likely be surprised by what you find!

For example, as a person who considers myself non-competitive, that assumption has been challenged by the act of writing this blog. Thanks to this project, the Shadow within me of ruthless competitiveness has shown its face, allowing me to understand myself more deeply.

4. Write a Story or Keep a Shadow Journal

Goethe’s story Faust is, in my opinion, one of the best works featuring the meeting of an ego and his Shadow Self. His story details the life of a Professor who becomes so separated and overwhelmed by his Shadow that he comes to the verge of suicide, only to realize that the redemption of the ego is solely possible if the Shadow is redeemed at the same time.

Write a story where you project your Shadow elements onto the characters – this is a great way to learn more about your inner darkness. If stories aren’t your thing, keeping a journal or diary every day can shine a light on the darker elements of your nature. Reading through your dark thoughts and emotions can help you to recover the balance you need in life by accepting both light and dark emotions within you.

5. Explore Your Shadow Archetypes

We have several Shadow varieties, also called Shadow Archetypes. These archetypes are sometimes defined as:

· The Sorcerer/Alchemist

· The Dictator

· The Victim

· The Shadow Witch

· The Addict

· The Idiot

· The Trickster

· The Destroyer

· The Slave

· The Shadow Mother

· The Hag

· The Hermit

However, I have my own Shadow Archetype classification, which I will include below.

13 Shadow Archetypes

Here are my thirteen classifications which are based on my own self-observations and analysis of others:

1. The Egotistical Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: arrogance, egocentricity, pompousness, inconsiderateness, self-indulgence, narcissism, excessive pride.

2. The Neurotic Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: paranoia, obsessiveness, suspiciousness, finicky, demanding, compulsive behavior.

3. The Untrustworthy Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: secretive, impulsive, frivolous, irresponsible, deceitful, unreliable.

4. The Emotionally Unstable Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: moody, melodramatic, weepy, overemotional, impulsive, changeable.

5. The Controlling Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: suspicious, jealous, possessive, bossy, obsessive.

6. The Cynical Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: negative, overcritical, patronizing, resentful, cantankerous.

7. The Wrathful Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: ruthless, vengeful, bitchy, quick-tempered, quarrelsome.

8. The Rigid Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: uptight, intolerant, racist, sexist, ableist, homophobic, obstinate, uncompromising, inflexible, narrow-minded.

9. The Glib Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: superficial, cunning, inconsistent, sly, crafty.

10. The Cold Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: emotionally detached, distant, indifferent, uncaring, unexcited.

11. The Perverted Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: masochistic, lewd, sadistic, vulgar, libidinous.

12. The Cowardly Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: weak-willed, passive, timid, fearful.

13. The Immature Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: puerile, childish, illogical, simpleminded, vacuous.

Keep in mind that the above Shadow Archetypes are by no means exhaustive. I’m sure that there are many others out there which I have missed. But you are free to use this breakdown to help you explore your own Shadows. You’re also welcome to add to this list or create your own Shadow Archetypes, which I highly encourage. For example, you might possess a judgmental and dogmatic Shadow who you call “The Nun,” or a sexually deviant Shadow who you call “The Deviant.” Play around with some words and labels, and see what suits your Shadows the best.

6. Have an Inner Conversation

Also known as “Inner Dialogue,” or as Carl Jung phrased it, “Active Imagination,” having a conversation with your Shadow is an easy way to learn from it.

I understand if you might feel a twinge of skepticism towards this practice right now. After all, we are taught that “only crazy people talk to themselves.” But inner dialogue is regularly used in psychotherapy as a way to help people communicate with the various subpersonalities that they have – and we all possess various faces and sides of our ego.

One easy way to practice inner dialogue is to sit in a quiet place, close your eyes, and tune into the present moment. Then, think of a question you would like to ask your Shadow, and silently speak it within your mind. Wait a few moments and see if you ‘hear’ or ‘see’ an answer. Record anything that arises and reflect on it. It is even possible to carry on a conversation with your Shadow using this method. Just ensure that you have an open mindset. In other words, don’t try to control what is being said, just let it flow naturally. You will likely be surprised by the answers you receive!

Visualization is another helpful way of engaging in inner dialogue. I recommend bringing to mind images of dark forests, caves, holes in the ground, or the ocean as these all represent the unconscious mind. Always ensure that you enter and exit your visualization in the same manner, e.g. if you are walking down a path, make sure you walk back up the path. Or if you open a particular door, make sure you open the same door when returning back to normal consciousness. This practice will help to draw you effortlessly in and out of visualizations.

7. Use the Mirror Technique

As we have learned, projection is a technique of the Shadow that helps us to avoid what we have disowned. However, we don’t only project the deeper and darker aspects of ourselves onto others, we also project our light and positive attributes as well. For example, a person may be attracted to another who displays fierce self-assertiveness, not realizing that this quality is what they long to reunite with inside themselves. Another common example (this time negative) is judgmentalism. How many times have you heard someone say “he/she is so judgmental!” Ironically, the very person saying this doesn’t realize that calling another person ‘judgmental’ is actually pronouncing a judgment against them and revealing their own judgmental nature.

The Mirror Technique is the process of uncovering our projections. To practice this technique, we must adopt a mindful and honest approach towards the world: we need to be prepared to own that which we have disowned! Being radically truthful with ourselves can be difficult, so it does require practice. But essentially, we must adopt the mindset that other people are our mirrors. We must understand that those around us serve as the perfect canvas onto which we project all of our unconscious desires and fears.

Start this practice by examining your thoughts and feelings about those you come in contact with. Pay attention to moments when you’re emotionally triggered and ask yourself “am I projecting anything?” Remember: it is also possible to project our own qualities onto another person who really does possess the qualities. Psychologists sometimes refer to this as “projecting onto reality.” For example, we might project our rage onto another person who is, in fact, a rage-filled person. Or we might project our jealousy onto another who genuinely is jealous.

Ask yourself, “What is mine, what is theirs, and what is both of ours?” Not every triggering situation reveals a projection, but they more than often do. Also, look for things you love and adore about others, and uncover the hidden projections there.

The Mirror Technique will help you to shed a lot of light onto Shadow qualities that you have rejected, suppressed, repressed, or disowned. On a side note, you might also like to read about a similar practice called mirror work which helps you to come face-to-face with your own denied aspects.

XII. Shadow Work Q&A

Here are some commonly asked questions about shadow work:

What is shadow work?

Shadow work is the psychological and spiritual practice of exploring our dark side or the ‘shadowy’ part of our nature. We all possess a place within us that contains our secrets, repressed feelings, shameful memories, impulses, and parts that are deemed “unacceptable” and “ugly.” This is our dark side or shadow self – and it is often symbolized as a monster, devil, or ferocious wild animal.

How to do shadow work?

There are many ways to practice shadow work. Some of the most powerful and effective techniques include journaling, artistically expressing your dark side (also known as art therapy), using a mirror to connect with this part of you (mirror work), guided meditations, exploring your projections, and examining your shadow archetypes.

What is the spiritual shadow?

There is light and darkness within all areas of life, and spirituality is not exempt. The spiritual shadow is what occurs when we fall into the traps of spiritual materialism – a phenomenon where we use spirituality to boost our egos and become arrogant, self-absorbed, and even narcissistic.

XIII. Shadow Self -Test

https://lonerwolf.com/shadow-self-test/

As passionate proponents of Shadow Work, we have created a free Shadow Self test on this website for you to take. Like any test, take it with a grain of salt and use your own analysis to ultimately determine how ‘dominant’ your Shadow is in your life. Please remember that tests online cannot be 100% accurate, so see it as a fun self-discovery tool. And note: those who receive a “small Shadow Self” answer still need to do Shadow Work. No person is exempt. ;)

XIV. Own Your Shadow and You Will Own Your Life

If you are looking for some serious, authentic and long-lived healing in your life, Shadow Work is the perfect way to experience profound inner transformation. Remember that what you internalize is almost always externalized in one form or another.

Own your shadow and you will own your life.

Here are some final inspiring words:

“The secret is out: all of us, no exceptions, have qualities we won’t let anyone see, including ourselves – our Shadow. If we face up to our dark side, our life can be energized. If not, there is the devil to pay. This is one of life’s most urgent projects. — Larry Dossey (Healing Words)”

“If we don’t change, we don’t grow. If we don’t grow, we are not really living. Growth demands a temporary surrender of security.” — Gail Sheehy

“Who has not at one time or another felt a sourness, wrath, selfishness, envy and pride, which he could not tell what to do with, or how to bear, rising up in him without his consent, casting a blackness over all his thoughts … It is exceeding good and beneficial to us to discover this dark, disordered fire of our soul; because when rightly known and rightly dealt with, it can as well be made the foundation of heaven as it is of hell. — William Law”

“To confront a person with his own shadow is to show him his own light. — Carl Jung”

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silverlightqueen · 4 years

Text

Monsters

silverlightqueen’s SKZ Scarefest

ot8magicalcreature!skz x readers from all 8 fics - comedy, fluff, angst, basically just tying up the loose ends from all the fics with the setting of Jackson’s famed party lol

Word Count: 16.2k+ (she’s a monster lmao)

Summary - Jackson’s (in)famous Halloween party is finally here, after months of being hyped up, anticipated, and labelled ‘the Party of the Year’. He’s invited everyone who’s anyone - the guestlist is exclusive to say the least. Werewolves and vampires, wizards and witches, angels and demons (and demon hunters), living creatures and dead; magical folk of all kind are on their way to Jackson’s party on All Hallows Eve. Oh, and a few humans too.

Warnings: explicit discussion of sex, alcohol and mention of drugs, I think that’s it but please let me know if you noticed that I missed something!

a/n: and here is the ninth and final instalment of my SKZ Scarefest! I know it’s not actually Halloween anymore lmao but uh better late than never ig? I’ve had so much fun writing this series, and this part was actually my favourite to write, even though it’s taken me soooo long. I really hope you guys enjoy reading this (make sure you’ve read the previous parts first, or reach out to me to ask for a summary for any parts you haven’t read - this part won’t make sense if you haven’t read all of the others too!). a big thank you to @silverlightprincess for being the best, and to everyone that’s interacted with all of the previous parts, I really appreciate it. and now, this is silverlightqueen signing off on my SKZ Scarefest! x

taglist: @kodzu-ken @cloudsgathering @silverlightprincess

@peculiarskidz @cararoserae @t-tbinnie @liatlyn you guys didn’t ask to be tagged but you’ve shown interest in this part I think so I thought I’d tag you guys anyway lmao sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged lol

silverlightqueen navigation

‘Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, angels and demons, and everything in between! Before we get into this, I wanna lay out a couple ground rules. Wolves and vamps, if you can’t get along, stay away from each other. Wizards, witches and fairies, keep your magic away from the drinks. My bedroom is off limits, unless I take you up there myself. Everyone’s an equal here, so I don’t care if you’re a king of hell or some shit – in Jackson’s house, you’re the same as everyone else, so you better treat each other like it. And have fun, motherfuckers! Let’s get this party started!’

Jackson finishes his very eloquent speech with a loud ‘whoop’ into the DJ’s microphone, voice echoing out into the massive living room of the manor house, and everyone cheers in response. I can’t help but laugh, rolling my eyes amusedly as my friends, dressed in our matching Pink Ladies’ outfits, scream and shout, bumping their cups together enthusiastically. ‘Come on, y/n! Cheer up!’ Yeji practically bellows into my ear, and I wince at the volume of her voice over the music blasting out from the speakers. ‘I’m fine!’ I reply, the girls all raising their eyebrows at me. ‘You’re not even drinking. If you’re gonna be heartbroken, at least be drunk heartbroken!’ Chaeryeong says, the girls cheering at her words, and I laugh at them, trying not to think about the reason that I’m heartbroken. ‘Listen, y/n, Hyunjin ain’t shit! You’re better off without him! He’s fucking ancient, anyway! You need a young sexy thing instead! Fuck him!’ Ryujin exclaims, and I grin at her words. She’s right; he’s probably off feeding on some girl dressed as a sexy nurse or devil in a club, and I’m here moping at the party of the year. Fuck that.

‘Someone get me a drink!’ I say, the girls cheering loudly. ‘Yuna, get her a drink! Wait, no, you stay away from the drinks. I’ll get her a drink,’ Lia says, all of us laughing as she stumbles towards the kitchen, already a little tipsy. ‘I hate seeing you like this! You’re supposed to be my dancing partner,’ Yuna says, sitting down next to me, and I give her a sad smile. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t get him off my mind. I feel like such an idiot,’ I say, and she shakes her head, scrunching up her nose. ‘Don’t be silly, you’re not an idiot. He’s the idiot for leaving – you’re the best thing that would’ve ever happened to him,’ she says kindly, my heart swelling. ‘You’re so sweet, Yuna,’ I say, throwing my arms around her, but I don’t hear her reply, my focus shifting to the front door where I see Chan walk in, immediately catching Yeji’s eyes, and the two of them wave at each other across the room. Seungmin and Jisung follow Chan in, and I guess Hyunjin’s gonna be there too, with the rest of them. ‘Fuck. I need to go,’ I say, not wanting to see him just yet (I’m far too sober), so I detach myself from Yuna and jump up from the sofa, quickly dodging my way around people to get into the kitchen. ‘y/n!’ Lia exclaims when I pass her, ‘I’ve got your drink here!’

‘I’ll have it if she won’t!’ Jisung calls out to the girl in the Grease Pink Ladies jacket stood beside us, watching her friend rush into the kitchen. ‘Oh, uh… yeah. Here,’ the girl says, handing the cup to Jisung who thanks her with a wink, and she rolls her eyes amusedly, heading back to her friends. ‘You flirt,’ Ryujin laughs, Jisung smirking at her as he takes a sip from the drink. ‘More like slut. Whoring himself out for a drink,’ Hyunjin teases the boy, who shoves him, the two of them getting into a little fight, and Chan just sighs, looking away from the two of them with a hand raised beside his face, as though to block them from his sight.

It’s been just over a week since the boys first stumbled into the diner, and this is already the fifth time I’ve seen them. They came into the diner again a couple days later, and then again, and then another time, when Chan asked if we’d go to Jackson’s party with them. It’s a full moon tonight, so they’re gonna be disappearing in a couple hours, and then making a reappearance a bit later than that. That was their excuse for not wearing costumes, but I’m not sure I’m buying it. We decided to dress up as Harry Potter characters, us girls in the Hogwarts robes, and we already got some cute pictures at Ryujin and Yeji’s apartment before the boys came to pick us up. The girls have already started developing relationships with the boys too, and I can see us becoming one big friendship group.

With regards to Chan and I, though… things haven’t progressed in the slightest. I texted him, and we’ve been messaging, but he hasn’t made a move or anything! He’s the perfect gentleman, which is great, but also sucks, because I just want him to be forward and tell me if he’s into me. But I’ve decided not to say anything, just in case he isn’t actually into me, and I’ve misconstrued everything.

‘Oh, God, the vamps are here,’ Minho murmurs, all of the boys grumbling as they watch the vampires walk in and join the Pink Ladies girl and her Pink Ladies friends. ‘Ugh, look at them, all of them in all black. They look like they’re going to a funeral or something,’ Changbin spits out, and I exchange a glance with Chan, the boy rolling his eyes. ‘Don’t even look in their direction, guys. I don’t want anything to start, especially on a full moon. So stop looking,’ Chan says calmly, and the boys all look away, muttering under their breaths. ‘If I catch any of them giving me a funny look, I’m not holding back,’ Jisung threatens, Chan sighing wearily as I hold back a laugh. ‘Honestly. Not one peaceful party with you idiots,’ Seungmin complains, and Jisung lets out a scandalised noise. ‘Idiots? Who are you calli-’ ‘You. He’s calling you an idiot, Jisung,’ Jeongin clarifies, Jisung turning his scowl to the youngest now. ‘Are you siding with the vamps?’ he demands, everyone sighing. ‘No one’s siding with anyone. Nothing’s even happened. Can you relax?’ I say amusedly, and Jisung looks at me with a frown.

‘I hope you’re not trying to boss me around, y/n. You’re forgetting that you’re human,’ Jisung says warningly, and I roll my eyes at his empty threat. ‘And you’re forgetting something too,’ Felix says in a sing-song voice, looking amused, and Jisung’s eyes suddenly widen, flitting to Chan. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does Chan, the latter looking at the former serenely, and Jisung seems to relax under Chan’s chilled gaze. ‘What?’ Chaeryeong says suddenly, everyone’s eyes turning to her. ‘What?’ Hyunjin asks, and she rolls her eyes. ‘What did Jisung forget?’ she asks, and I won’t lie – I’d quite like to know the answer to that too. They keep doing this – one of them will say something cryptic and they’ll all look at each other and then go silent. ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter,’ Hyunjin says, us girls exchanging an exasperated glance. ‘Fine. Whatever,’ Chaeryeong sighs, the group falling silent at that. ‘Anyway… I’m gonna get a drink. Does anyone want anything?’ Minho asks, getting up from where he’s perched on the sideboard, and I raise a hand. ‘Can you get me a cup of Echo Falls please?’

‘God, these humans drink some weak shit. Echo Falls is practically flavoured water,’ I say to Felix, the boy rolling his eyes. ‘Stop eavesdropping on their conversations.’ ‘I can’t help it. You know I’ve got good hearing,’ I say, and Felix just gives me an amused smile. ‘You should be focusing on me.’ ‘You’re being boring, though. You won’t dance with me,’ I complain, pouting as I flick his plastic red devil horns, and he raises an eyebrow at me. ‘I’ve already told you why. If we dance together, you won’t keep your hands to yourself, and one of the other angels will see us and go snitching to God. I want you to speak to her before anyone else does,’ Felix explains for, like, the tenth time, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘I will speak to her. But is it that big of a deal if she hears about it from someone else beforehand? No. I just wanna dance with my boyfriend without worrying about anything,’ I whine, and his lips curl into a smile, eyes sparkling.

‘Did you just call me your boyfriend?’ he asks, and I realise that, yes, I did, and my face heats up a little. ‘No.’ ‘Are you sure?’ ‘I didn’t.’ ‘I think you did.’ ‘I think you’re hearing things.’ ‘Hmm, I’m not so sure about that,’ he teases me, and I roll my eyes, trying not to show him how embarrassed I am. ‘Whatever. Maybe I did. Am I wrong?’ I ask, and he grins at me, pulling me down from the arm of his armchair into his lap, and I’m surprised at the sudden display of affection. ‘Of course you aren’t. My girlfriend is never wrong,’ he murmurs with a grin, tilting his head up to press a gentle kiss to my lips, and I practically melt into him.

I break away a moment later, grabbing his hand and climbing up from the seat, pulling him up with me. ‘If you can kiss me, you can dance with me,’ I grin, dragging him towards where people are in a big throng, dancing along to the loud music pulsing out into the room. I wrap my arms around his neck, his arms coming around my waist, and we instantly begin dancing, bodies pressed close as we roll and wind against each other, the smiles never leaving our faces. Dancing with him like this is so… mundane, so human. To anyone else watching, we’re a boy and a girl dancing together, and that’s all. It feels like the most simple happiness, one I haven’t experienced for a long time. And one that gets cut short very quickly.

I blink, and suddenly Felix is no longer in my arms, and I’m no longer at Jackson’s party either, the air around me a startling silence. Instead, I’m stood in an office, God sat at the desk opposite me. She’s leaning back in her seat, her eyes on me, inspecting me, almost picking me apart, and I feel a little bit of panic flare inside me. I’m not prepared for this now – I’m halfway to being drunk on tequila shots.

‘Are you dressed as an angel?’ she asks amusedly, and I nod, feeling sheepish now in my little white dress, wings pinned onto the back of it, and my wire halo headband. ‘Quite ironic. Such a crude depiction, these humans have of my angels. Though… I do like your dress,’ she says softly, and I’m flattered. If God likes my dress, it must be good, right? Or maybe it’s not. I mean… I thought this was sexy and revealing, but if God likes it, it’s probably not as sexy or revealing as I thought. Shame.

‘Did someone snitch?’ I ask bluntly, and she lets out a gentle laugh, the sound melodious and light. ‘Yes. Somebody… snitched.’ ‘Who?’ ‘I’m snitching if I tell you,’ she says with a small smile, and I roll my eyes. ‘Can’t you just tell me?’ ‘It was Seungmin.’ ‘That little shit,’ I mutter, sighing in annoyance. ‘Felix didn’t make me aware of your relationship.’ ‘I know. I told him I’d speak to you about it.’ ‘You speak to me? Why not him? He’s here every day. You… are not,’ she says pointedly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. ‘I know, but he was nervous, so I said I’d handle it.’ ‘And how will you handle it?’ she asks amusedly, leaning forward with her elbows on the desk. ‘By asking for your permission.’

She looks quite taken aback at my answer, raising an eyebrow in surprise. ‘Asking my permission?’ ‘Yeah. We assumed you wouldn’t be too impressed if one of your angels pursues a relationship with a demon.’ ‘I wouldn’t be impressed if the circumstances were any different. But, as I’ve observed recently, you seem to be particularly harmless with Felix around. He keeps you under control. I suppose it’d be in my best interests to encourage him to be around you, to keep you on a better track than Lucifer would have you on,’ she shudders, saying his name with disdain, and I bite my tongue rather than defend my father. I doubt she’d take well to it.

‘So you don’t mind?’ ‘No. I don’t. He’s good for you. And I’m quite impressed that you unconsciously won his affections. I never expected such a lovely angel to fall for a demon,’ she says, and I feel my lips quirk up into a small grin. ‘He’s a dark horse.’ ‘Apparently so.’ ‘Does this mean you’re not gonna kill me?’ ‘Yes, y/n, I’m not going to kill you. I’m nothing if not benevolent. So you may return to your party. Just bear in mind,’ she adds, as though it’s an afterthought, ‘I have a particular fondness for Felix, so see to it that you don’t break his heart.’ ‘I can’t make any promises,’ I say honestly, and she just looks at me for a moment, deep in thought, before a small smile breaks across her face. ‘I can’t fault you for such a truthful answer. Now go,’ she says with a kind smile, her warmth seeping into even my cold heart, ‘make him happy.’

The next time I blink, I open my eyes to Jackson’s party once more, the earsplittingly loud music making me wince as I scan the room for my boyfriend. ‘y/n!’ I hear him call from behind me, and I turn to briefly see his panicked face before he pulls me into his arms. ‘You disappeared! I was worried sick,’ he says into my ear, holding me in a vice-like grip, and I let out a laugh, pushing him away gently. ‘I’m fine,’ I murmur, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. ‘Where were you?’ he asks with his big eyes, and I grin, before replying, ‘With God.’

‘Goodness. Whatever were you doing with that bore?’ I ask Lucifer’s daughter, my equivalent of the ninth circle, and a smile of joy spreads across her face at the sight of me. We hold each other in a brief embrace, her boyfriend stood to the side, watching with curiosity. ‘What are you doing here? It’s been forever since I saw you at a party,’ she says, her language so much more modern than mine. I suppose I hung onto my outdated vocabulary, just as I hung onto my love. ‘I have much to celebrate. My love is returned. Changbin is himself once more,’ I inform her, her face lighting up at the news. ‘No way! That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you! Is he here?’ she asks excitedly, and I nod. ‘He is getting a drink for me – I am quite parched. Be sure to greet him at some point before you depart. He has missed you all – he was more excitable than I have ever seen him as we were readying ourselves for this party. He could not wait to come and see you all once more,’ I explain, hearing the fondness in my own voice. ‘I will, of course. It’ll be nice to see him.’

‘Yes. It shall. And who, may I ask, is your companion?’ ‘This is Felix. He’s an angel, which is why I was with God,’ she explains, my mouth falling open. ‘You, Lucifer’s daughter, with an angel? Goodness me, this is surprising news. I expected you to choose Minho as your companion. Certainly not a being so… soft. But if you are happy, I am happy for you. I just hope Felix does not do anything to hurt you, for he shall have many dark ones to answer to,’ I say threateningly to the sweet boy, his face falling as he gulps. ‘Of course not. I’d never hurt her,’ he says quietly, and I smile at him, taking to him almost instantly. He reminds me of a little lamb, or a gentle fairy. He is quite lovely. ‘I am glad to hear so. I am going to go and find Changbin, for he has been gone a while, but I hope to catch up with you at some point tonight,’ I say to the both of them, embracing them both and taking Felix quite by surprise when I do so (it is unusual for demons to be so kind to those they have just met, but I quite enjoy teasing other beings, and making them all flustered), a small smile on my face at his girlfriend’s soft giggles, before I turn away, making my way towards the kitchen and stifling a laugh when I hear Felix ask, ‘Who’s Minho?’

I enter the kitchen, Changbin stood on the opposite side of the room, pouring himself a scotch, a glass of red wine for me beside his tumbler glass. I glide over to him, sliding my arms around his waist when I reach him, and a smile stretches across his face when I press a kiss to his cheek. ‘I have missed you,’ he murmurs, turning to pull me into his arms, and I let out a soft laugh. ‘I left for a few minutes – you cannot have missed me that much,’ I reply, and he grins at me. ‘I don’t mean the last few minutes – I mean the last few centuries,’ he chuckles, and I feel my heart swell. He has told me he missed me so many times over the past few days and it has not yet become old to hear him say so. ‘I like hearing you say that.’ ‘I shall say it to you every day for the rest of our lives if you so wish,’ he proclaims, making me giggle (only he can make me behave as though I am a young teenage human girl with her first love).

I can feel eyes on us, and I manage to pick up whispers here and there, about how the famed original demon hunter is no longer a demon hunter, and is in the kitchen of a Halloween party thrown by a drunken fool. How Jackson has all these connections, I am not quite sure, though I suppose he is a sweet boy on occasion, when he is not intoxicated out of his sanity. ‘People are talking.’ ‘That is what they do.’ ‘I mean, they are talking about us.’ ‘They will always talk about us,’ he grins, cockiness seeping into his tone, and I roll my eyes. ‘More specifically, they are talking about you.’ ‘Well, they will always talk about me.’ ‘And why is that, my love?’ I ask with a grin, leaning against him with my arms around his neck, and he leans back against the counter, hands resting low on my back. ‘Would you like to guess, my love?’ ‘Your dashing good looks?’ ‘No.’ ‘Your unfairly perfect body?’ ‘Not quite.’ ‘Your… lovely personality?’ ‘Not even close,’ he says with a grin, childish giggles falling from my lips every few seconds. ‘Then what, my love?’ I ask, feeling drunk on love when he replies, ‘they wonder how somebody like me is with such a perfect lady like you.’

‘Wow. Did you hear that? That was the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,’ I murmur to Jisung, the boy rolling his eyes as he takes a sip from his beer. ‘He’s had a long time to practice his lines,’ Jisung says dryly, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘So have you, being a thousands-of-years-old demon and all.’ ‘Nope. I was too busy fucking people. Anyway, stop listening to other people’s romantic conversations, and focus on your own romance,’ he says sternly, and I hold back a laugh. ‘Romance? He didn’t even pick me up. He said he’d ‘see me there’ which is, like, totally not a date,’ I say mildly, and Jisung shakes his head. ‘He’s trying not to be too eager.’ ‘He’s going a little too much the other way.’ ‘Well… he’ll regret it when he sees you. You look hot,’ he says offhandedly, though the way his eyes roam over me hungrily betray his cool demeanour. ‘I do, don’t I? It was a good costume suggestion you made,’ I say, looking down at my angel costume. It’s a little basic – quite a few other girls here are dressed as angels (I’m pretty sure I saw a princess of Hell dressed as one, which is quite funny actually) – but the white dress, feather wings and tinsel halo are quite cute, if I say so myself.

‘Yep, it was. Sex God Seonghwa’s gonna love it,’ he grins, and I shush him, looking around embarrassedly in case someone heard. ‘Relax, relax. Oh, look. Talk of the devil…’ he trails off, and I follow his eye line to the door of the kitchen, Seonghwa and his friends just walking in. They’re dressed in standard house party outfits with a little bit of makeup on their faces – a half-skeleton face here and a half-zombie face there. I’m not quite sure what Seonghwa’s supposed to be, with his bright white contacts and cuts across his eyes, but he looks hot. I catch his eye, and he smiles widely at me, the butterflies I usually feel when he looks at me absent today, but I shrug it off. ‘I’m gonna go say hi,’ I say, rising from my seat, and Jisung nods. ‘I’ll be with Hyunjin, if you need me. Not that you will, but… just in case,’ he says gently, and I nod with a smile before heading towards Seonghwa.

‘Hey, y/n. You look… nice,’ he says with a devilish grin, eyes flitting over me before he pulls me into a loose hug. ‘Thanks, Seonghwa. You look good, too. I like your… contacts,’ I say awkwardly, but he continues grinning at me as though he can’t feel the uncomfortable tension in the air. ‘Thanks. Not more than my real eyes, I hope,’ he jokes, and I let out a forced laugh. ‘No, of course not. You’re real eyes are, uh, much nicer.’ ‘Thanks. Can I get you a drink?’ he offers, and I hold up the cup in my hand awkwardly. ‘Oh, never mind. I’ll just grab myself a beer,’ he laughs, turning to get one out of the fridge, and I want to scream at myself. Why am I being so awkward with him? Come on, y/n, step up your game.

‘So what exactly are you supposed to be?’ I ask, trying to sound more comfortable than I feel, and he grins as he flips the top off the bottle with a bottle opener. ‘Can’t you tell? I’m a… possessed… devil… thing?’ he says, and I laugh, the boy laughing with me. ‘You don’t sound so sure.’ ‘Yeah, it’s a little ambiguous. Wooyoung did it and I’m not sure what he was going for, but I’ll roll with it,’ he chuckles before motioning to me. ‘Your outfit’s pretty obvious, though. A perfect little angel, right?’ he smirks, and I let out a fake laugh. ‘How did you guess?’ ‘I think the halo and the wings give it away a little. The dress isn’t too angelic, though. A little… tight. Not that I’m complaining,’ he grins, and I feel my heart sinking. He’s attracted to me, he’s flirting with me, and yet… I don’t feel a single thing. What is wrong with me?

‘Well… I’m glad you like it. It’s a little… out there for me,’ I admit, hoping that derailing the conversation to something a little more tame will make things less awkward. ‘It really suits you. I think you should wear things like this all the time, if you want to. Be more confident in your body,’ he says encouragingly, and I feel so sad. Look how nice he’s being, and I still somehow feel like I’d much rather be talking to anyone else at this party. ‘I’ll try. I’m not sure my tutors would be too impressed if I showed up to my lectures and seminars in teeny little bodycon dresses,’ I joke, and he chuckles, grinning. ‘Maybe not,’ he murmurs with a smirk, ‘but I’m sure… other people would appreciate it.’

‘God, that’s the most awkward conversation I’ve ever listened to in my life,’ I say dryly to Ryujin as we leave the kitchen. ‘I know! The girl was obviously not interested, but he was not getting the message,’ she says, both of us wincing at the thought of how uncomfortable that was. ‘Boys are so dense,’ I complain as I throw myself down onto the sofa beside Lia, Ryujin perching on the arm of the sofa beside where Yuna sits. ‘Listen to you. She’s got a demon boyfriend now and, suddenly, she’s above human boys,’ Chaeryeong teases, and I raise my eyebrow, the other girls laughing. ‘He’s not my boyfriend. I’ve met him once.’ ‘And that was enough for him to fall in love with you,’ Lia says simply, and I roll my eyes. ‘He’s not in love!’ ‘He’s willing to come to a human party for you – it’s close enough to love,’ Yeji says dryly, and I shake my head with an amused smile. ‘This is not a human party at all. We’re like the only humans here, pretty much.’ ‘Us and that girl being practically tortured by that boy in the kitchen,’ Ryujin says with a wince, and I laugh. ‘Poor thing. We should’ve saved her. Pretended we know her or something.’ ‘Na, he was pretty hot. Maybe she’s just looking to get laid,’ Ryujin says with a shrug, and I consider it, nodding after a moment.

‘Who’s looking to get laid?’ a familiar voice says, and I look up to see Minho stood there, my heart stopping momentarily. He looks so handsome, in a pair of tight black trousers and a black shirt with white stripes on it, an expensive-looking black jacket thrown over the top of it, a smart casual outfit perfect for a date. I tried my best to wear something that doubles as a date outfit and a Halloween costume, but all I could come up with is a little black dress and a cat ear headband with a matching tail on my ass which I’ll take off when we leave here. At least I look sexy in it.

He holds out a hand to me and I take it, letting him pull me up from my seat, and he keeps my hand in his, holding it up and pressing his soft lips against my skin. ‘You sound different,’ Ryujin observes dryly, eyebrow raised, and he grins at her. ‘I decided to drop the formalities. No one wants to date a guy who sounds like he’s just stepped out of the Victorian era. Unless you’re into that?’ he asks with a grin, coaxing a laugh from me, and I’m relieved to hear him speaking like this instead of that stiff formal language. It makes him much less… intimidating.

‘I brought my friends,’ he says, and my eyes focus on the group stood a few feet behind him, all of them dressed similarly to Minho. They’re all taking turns to hug one blond boy who I saw earlier with his gorgeous girlfriend, the girl now stood beside the group, watching them with a loving smile on her face. ‘I’ll introduce them in a minute. Our friend was turned into a demon hunter centuries ago, and we’ve just now found out he’s back to being a demon again. It’s a long story – I’ll explain over dinner,’ he says, and I’m a little confused but I brush it off, just nodding.

‘Dinner?’ a voice says from behind Minho, the boy turning to reveal the blond boy’s girlfriend. She’s dressed in an elegant white evening dress, decked out in jewels and finery, a white veil in her hair and horribly gory cuts and wounds all over her face and chest. ‘Yes, dinner.’ ‘Ah, so this is the date you mentioned?’ she says, her eyes flitting to me, and I feel a little intimidated under her powerful gaze. ‘Hi. I’m y/n,’ I say shyly, and she looks impressed, holding out a hand to me, and I shake it firmly. ‘Nice to meet you, y/n. I am the Princess of the 5th Circle of Hell,’ she says with a smile, and I blink in surprise. ‘Charmed,’ I reply faintly, and she lets out a gentle laugh. ‘Does she not know of our nature, Minho?’ ‘She does. I suppose it takes a little getting used to,’ he says ruefully, and I nod embarrassedly.

‘You are dressed as a cat,’ she observes, and I nod, even more embarrassed. She looks all graceful as a zombie bride (I think?), and I’m in a cheap ass black dress and a flimsy plastic headband. ‘Minho has a liking for cats,’ she says amusedly, Minho choking on thin air, and I try to ignore the girls’ stifled laughter behind me as I say, ‘I… didn’t know that.’ ‘I guessed as much. What exactly are you supposed to be, Minho?’ ‘A normal boy taking a girl to dinner?’ he says with a small grin, and the girl rolls her eyes. ‘How boring.’

‘We don’t all have your creativity, Miss Zombie Bride,’ he teases sarcastically, and she lets out a little outraged gasp. ‘How dare you? Are you accusing me of being unoriginal? You should see Lucifer’s Princess – she’s dressed as an angel, and she’s here with her angel boyfriend,’ the girl says, sounding a little gossipy, and Minho’s mouth falls open. ‘Angel boyfriend?’ he asks, the girl nodding with a grin, satisfied at Minho’s reaction. ‘Do not ask her for details – she will gossip with you all night, and you shall be late to dinner with your human love,’ the blond-haired boy says amusedly, Minho nodding before his eyes flit back to me, a grin spreading on his handsome face.

He holds an arm out to me, and I link mine with his shyly, feeling more than intimidated with all these demons around. ‘We should get going. I’m parked outside,’ he says, and I feel excited – I’m really looking forward to this, regardless of the fact that my date is a demon prince. ‘Why did you bring a car?’ the demon princess says amusedly, and I look between her and Minho with confusion. ‘How else would we get there?’ ‘We can travel without… vehicles. What is it you humans call it… ah, teleporting, I believe,’ she says, and my eyes widen. ‘Can we do that?’ I ask Minho excitedly, and he shakes his head, an amused smile on his face. ‘You’ve never done it before, and it takes a lot of getting used to. I don’t want you to get hurt,’ he says, the last bit a little quieter, and his demon friends behind him fail at holding back their laughter, making him look more than a bit sheepish. ‘Do not tease him. He is obviously taken with her, and it is high time he settled down,’ the demon princess says, though she looks like she’s holding back laughter too, and Minho just shakes his head.

‘We’re going. See you in a few hours,’ he says embarrassedly, leading me towards the door, and I wave goodbye to the girls and Minho’s friends over my shoulder, all of them watching us leave with big smiles on their faces. We dodge around the groups of partygoers, dressed up all sorts of supernatural creatures and famous characters, and it feels like we’ve entered another world when we step out through the front door, the air clear, crisp and quiet. ‘Are you cold?’ he asks, and I shake my head, his eyebrow raising. ‘Okay, maybe I am.’ ‘I’d be shocked if you weren’t in that dress,’ he says amusedly, taking his jacket off and helping me to put it on, giving me butterflies. It smells like expensive aftershave and something… dark and smoky, like night itself. ‘Come on, angel, let’s get going,’ he grins, throwing an arm around my shoulders and leading me towards where several cars are parked on the driveway of the manor. ‘Where are we going?’ I ask, and his grins grows even wider. ‘Wherever you want to go, angel,’ he says softly, holding me close to him, ‘I’ll go anywhere with you.’

‘Oh, my God. That was so romantic,’ I squeal under my breath as we pass the couple who are leaving, the boy holding the passenger door of his car open for the girl, and I.N. – no, Jeongin – rolls his eyes. ‘It was cheesy,’ he says, ever the cynic, and I shoot him a look. ‘Whatever, grumpy,’ I mutter, and he lets out a little laugh. ‘I’m not grumpy.’ ‘You are! You complained the entire way here!’ ‘Yeah, because I don’t want to be here. I don’t like leaving the house.’ ‘But I’ve got a s-’ ‘Surprise, yes, I know. It’d be nice if you told me what it was,’ he says pointedly, and I roll my eyes. ‘It’s not a surprise if I tell you,’ I say simply, the boy muttering something under his breath as we reach the front door. I push it open, stepping through the doorway with Jeongin behind me, and I can feel the nervous energy practically radiating from him as we head further into the party. This is the first time he’s left the house to go further than the local shops and I can understand his anxiety, which is why I reach out and take his hand into mine, leading him through the big groups of people, to where they said they’d be in the kitchen.

‘Okay, I have some good news,’ I say when we reach the door of the kitchen, his hand still in mine, and he looks relieved that he’s finding out the surprise. ‘What’s the good news?’ ‘You can carry on living in 325 Sunshine Street,’ I say excitedly, looking forward to his reaction, and his face lights up. ‘You’re not selling it?’ he asks breathlessly, eyes sparkling with excitement, and I hesitate. ‘It’s still being sold… to me. I’m moving in,’ I say tentatively, and he doesn’t react for a moment. I worry that I’ve got this all wrong, that this is the last thing he would want, and that this is going to ruin the friendship that’s developed between us, the friendship that I treasure more than I realised. ‘You’re moving in?’ he asks, and I nod slowly. ‘I mean, only if you want me to! I don’t have t-’ ‘I want you to. I really want you to. Are you serious?’ he asks, eyes lighting up as he speaks, and relief floods through me. ‘Yes, I’m serious. I’m buying the house!’ I exclaim, and he lets out a loud whoop of excitement, pulling me into his arms. He’s so real, so warm and soft, and he doesn’t feel like a ghost at all.

‘That’s the best surprise you could’ve given me!’ he says contentedly, pulling away from me, and I can’t help but grin at him, so happy that he’s happy. ‘Actually… I don’t think it is. I have an even better one for you,’ I say excitedly, and he eyes me suspiciously. ‘Another surprise? Better than you moving in?’ ‘Mmhmm. It’s in the kitchen,’ I say, and he looks at the door before looking back at me. ‘Can I…?’ he asks, and I nod, laughing. He holds a hand up to the door, looking nervous as he pushes it open, and when he opens it, I wish I could imprint the look on his face to my brain forever, the look of pure wonder and happiness making me feel warm inside.

I can hear loud yelling from the kitchen before Jeongin rushes in, and I follow behind him, watching with a fond smile as his friends greet him and hug him for the first time since their exams all those years ago. For the first time since he died. I reached out to Chan last night, who was the one trying to sell the house, and told him everything. He told the other boys, and they told me they’d be at the party tonight, asking if I could bring him so they could see him again. When I first spoke to Chan, I suggested they all move into the house with Jeongin, but he told me that some of them were married with children. They had their own families now, and it was too late for them to move in with their old family. Which is when I came up with the idea to live there myself. I still have to work out the logistics, and how I’m going to tell my parents that I’m moving out of their house to live with my friend that they’ve never heard of in the house I’ve been trying to sell for months and haven’t been able to do so. But that’ll come later.

Jeongin’s eyes are full of tears and so are his brothers’, all of them radiating happiness as they embrace, and try to catch him up on what’s been going on in the past few years. He looks so young next to them, but I can see the echo of what they were at school, his presence making them seem younger too. I stand in the doorway and watch, wanting him to have his time with them, but he turns to look at me after a few minutes, telling them he’ll be right back. ‘You’re the best. Thank you,’ he says sincerely, pulling me into another hug, and I feel my heart melt. ‘You’re welcome. Now go back to your family, stupid. You’ll have all the time in the world to speak to me, when we live together,’ I say with a grin, and he rolls his eyes. ‘You’re the stupid one, y/n,’ he grins, and I raise an eyebrow, and my heart swells when he says, ‘don’t you know you’re my family now too?’

‘Did you hear that? How cute,’ I say to Chaeryeong as we enter the living room, wanting a reprieve from the racket those boys were making in the kitchen. ‘Yeah, but what’s the context? Because it’s not cute if she’s into him. That wasn’t even friendzone – it was familyzone,’ Chaeryeong says, making me laugh. ‘I didn’t think about that. Poor thing,’ I say as we head to the bathroom. There’s a little room before the actual bathroom itself, with mirrors lining the walls, and we head to the one in the corner to check our appearances. I nearly have a heart attack when I spot a wrinkle creasing my forehead, and I feel faint when I see grey locks streaked through my hair, making me look more like the Bride of Frankenstein than the sexy vampire I’m dressed up as. ‘I’m gonna cry. Look at the state of me. I look like an old lady,’ I wail miserably, Chaeryeong giving me a pitying look. ‘You don’t, y/n! This hairstyle is in!’ ‘Okay, but wrinkles all over my face isn’t!’ I shriek, the girl wincing when she spots them. ‘Well… you’ve gotta break the curse then.’ ‘I’ve been trying. It’s harder than you think. I’ve been doing so many selfless and generous things, but apparently not without judgement, even though I wasn’t even being judgemental,’ I complain, and Chaeryeong raises an eyebrow.

‘What have you been doing?’ ‘I paid for the coffee of the guy behind me in Starbucks, even though he totally wasn’t my type. I gave this half-troll girl a pad when I went for dinner with Yuna last night. I stopped to let an old man cross the road, and he was super slow. I did loads of other stuff too!’ I list off, and Chaeryeong shakes her head despairingly. ‘y/n, you moron! You judged every one of those people!’ ‘No, I didn’t!’ ‘Listen to how you just described them. A guy who wasn’t your type. A half-troll girl. An old man. You’re supposed to look past people’s appearance, but that’s the way you just described them all, stupid!’ she exclaims, and my mouth falls open. She’s right. I am stupid. ‘Oh, my God. I’m never gonna break this curse. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I look at people without seeing what they look like?’ I wail helplessly, Chaeryeong rolling her eyes at me.

Before she can speak, a girl dressed as a devil walks in, ranting and raving angrily, and Chaeryeong exchange a glance. She looks like she’s crying, her friend trying her best to comfort her. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask, and she looks at me in surprise before letting out a loud sob. ‘No,’ she wails, and I step towards her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. ‘What’s the matter?’ I ask, and her friend sighs. ‘Her ex is here, with his new girlfriend, and they’re dressed as an angel and devil. She thinks her ex’s new girl is a better devil than she is, and now she feels like an idiot that she’s wearing a couple costume with her ex, but he’s here with his new girl,’ her friend explains, and I wince. It’s an awkward situation to say the least, and I feel really sorry for her. If that was me, I’d probably leave out of embarrassment, especially if I thought her costume was better than mine.

The girl in front of me is in all black with a red belt (a devil tail hanging from it) and red devil horns, with red contacts like mine, and she looks around the same size as me. ‘Oh, my God, I just had the best idea! Why don’t we swap outfits? You can have my fake fangs and I brought fake blood, too, and I’ll have your horns and belt! Then you can be a sexy vampire instead of a sexy devil!’ I suggest excitedly, the girl’s eyes lighting up. ‘You’d do that?’ ‘Of course. Exes are, like, the worst. Here,’ I say, pulling my fangs out and rushing into the bathroom to give them a quick wash. When I came back, she’s taken off the belt and horns, holding them out to me. ‘You’re really nice, you know? Thank you so much,’ she says sincerely, looking a lot happier now than she did a minute ago, and I grin at her. ‘No problem,’ I reply, passing her the fangs, and I help her to put some fake blood around her mouth and in two dots on her neck. She keeps thanking me and we even exchange socials before she leaves, because she says she wants to keep in touch with the girl that saved her Halloween. I can’t stop smiling as I put on the belt and horns, carefully wiping away the fake blood on my mouth and neck, touching it up with my foundation. It feels nice to do something nice for someone.

‘Oh, my God!’ Chaeryeong exclaims, and I look at her worriedly. ‘What?’ ‘Look at your hair!’ she practically screams, and I look at myself in the mirror. The grey has disappeared from my hair, and so have the wrinkles on my face. My body feels a little stronger than it did a few minutes ago, and I poke my tongue around at the back of my mouth, finding that there are no longer gaps where three of my teeth fell out yesterday. ‘I broke the curse!’ I say excitedly, Chaeryeong pulling me into an excited hug. ‘Look how easy it was!’ ‘I know! God, this’ll teach me to stop being such a bitch. Ugh, I’m so glad to have my teeth back! I’m gonna go find Seungmin,’ I say, wanting to tell him, and she nods. ‘I’ll be with the girls. Just phone me if you can’t find us,’ she says, and we leave the bathroom, going our separate ways.

It doesn’t take me long to find Seungmin – I can hear his friendship group from a mile away – and he grins at me as I approach. ‘You just broke it, didn’t you?’ he asks, and my eyes widen. ‘How did you know?’ ‘It’s obvious. Look how excited you are. How did you do it?’ he asks, and I explain to him, the boy rolling his eyes. ‘See how simple it is? I’m glad you’ve learnt not to be a judgmental bitch now,’ he teases, and I shove him half-heartedly. ‘Whatever. But, honestly… I really have learnt my lesson. I feel terrible about that witch now. I’ll never be nasty again,’ I proclaim, and Seungmin raises an eyebrow. ‘We’ll see about that.’ ‘Well… I’ll try to never be nasty again,’ I amend, and he laughs. ‘That sounds more like you.’

‘y/n! Long time, no see! Are you two back together?’ Changbin slurs drunkenly, throwing his arms around us, and I wince as Seungmin closes his eyes momentarily. ‘No. We’re not,’ he replies, Changbin cringing. ‘Oh. Sorry for making it awkward. I’m gonna just…’ he trails off, turning back to the boys and whispering loud enough for us to hear, ‘they’re not back together, Jisung. You owe me a twenty.’ Seungmin sighs, putting a hand over his face as though he’s trying to keep himself together, and I let out a little laugh. ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘It’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal,’ I say, and Seungmin hesitates before saying, ‘I actually wanted to speak to you about that.’ I freeze for a moment, blinking as I try to process his words.

‘About… us?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘I know you ended things because I’m immortal, but I… found something. I’ve been looking for a… solution to that problem, and I found one. There’s this… potion, I guess, a really complicated one that takes a long time to brew, but I collected all the ingredients and I’ve started brewing it already,’ he begins, and I’m itching to hear the rest of what he’s got to say. ‘It’s an immortality potion, but it works in different ways, depending on who takes it. If someone mortal takes it, they become immortal. If someone immortal takes it…’ he trails off, and I finish for him; ‘they become mortal.’ He nods gravely, and I don’t reply for a few seconds, mind working at a million miles an hour.

‘So you want me to take the potion to be immortal?’ ‘No! No, y/n, God, no! I’d never ask that of you!’ he says quickly, looking shocked that I even asked, and then I realise what he means. ‘You’re suggesting that you take it? To be mortal?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘But… is that what you want?’ I ask, and he sighs, taking a few moments to reply; ‘I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and… yeah, I think so. I mean…. I don’t want to outlive everyone around me, everyone I care about, and love. And it’s not even outliving them, it’s seeing them turn 30, 40, 50, 60, whilst I still look like a teenager. I don’t want that to happen. I want to grow old with the people I love. I… I want to grow old with you,’ he says quietly, and I feel my heart stop momentarily. ‘Me?’ ‘Yes. You, y/n. I still love you. A lot, actually. I’d do anything for a life with you. And I understand if you don’t feel the same way anymore, but I thought I’d tell you, because I know that’s the reason you ended things. I guess… I’m hoping that that was the only reason, and that now I can fix it, you’ll have me back. But I get it if you don’t want to-’ ‘I do, though. I really, really do,’ I say without even thinking, and his eyes widen, face lighting up.

‘Wait, really?’ ‘Yes, Seungmin. I do want to have you back. But… I want you to properly think about this. It’s a big sacrifice that you’re thinking of making, and I want you to think it through.’ ‘y/n, I’ve been thinking it through the entire time we were broken up, the entire time I was looking for the potion. It’s all I ever thought about. I want this,’ he says earnestly, and I know that he’s being truthful, that he really has thought this through properly. He’s mature and responsible, and I know he wouldn’t rush into a decision like this without thinking it through properly. ‘Okay,’ I say simply, and he blinks in surprise. ‘Okay?’ ‘Okay. I’ll be with you.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Yes, Seungmin, really,’ I laugh, and he lets out a loud shout of celebration, throwing his arms around me in a hug and I giggle at his reaction, touched at his excitement. ‘Are you back together?’ Jisung demands when we break apart, and I roll my eyes as Seungmin sighs at him. ‘Yes. We are now.’ ‘Ha! Changbin, you better give me that twenty back!’

‘Oh, that reminds me of our bet!’ Jisung says suddenly, all of us looking at him in surprise. ‘What? What bet?’ Yuna asks, and the boys exchange yet another cryptic glance, none of them speaking. ‘Oh, my God!’ Lia exclaims, finally losing her patience, ‘what is wrong with you guys? Why can’t you just tell us what the hell is going on? Or, at least, stop talking about it in front of us! Because I’m fed up of it n-’ ‘y/n,’ Chan says suddenly, cutting Lia’s tirade off, and we all turn our gazes to him. ‘I wasn’t talking, it was Lia-‘ ‘I know. I just… can I have a word with you? Outside, please,’ he says quietly, and I blink in confusion. What’s with the weird timing, and what exactly does he want to say? ‘Um, yeah, okay,’ I say softly, completely confused, and Chan rises from his seat, holding out a hand to help me up too. He leads me through to the back of the house, taking me out into the grounds, and he sits us down on a bench, a group of boys sat smoking weed on the bench on our left, and two other boys having a heart-to-heart on the bench to our right.

‘What’s the matter, Chan? Are you okay?’ I say concernedly, and he gives me a faint smile. ‘I’m fine. I just… I’ve got something important that I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, but it’s kinda… serious. Just, um… prepare yourself,’ he says seriously, and I side-eye him. ‘You’re scaring me, Chan.’ ‘It’s not bad! Well, maybe it is. I don’t know,’ he rambles, and I let out a little laugh. ‘Chan, just tell me.’ ‘Sorry, sorry. Um, so, basically… you are my… um… my mate,’ he says slowly, wincing as he speaks, and I just blink for a few seconds before asking, ‘Your mate?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘Like… life companion forever?’ ‘That’s right, yeah.’ ‘But… I’m a human,’ I say slowly, unable to believe what he’s saying. ‘Anyone can be our mates. Even… vampires, or demons. So, yeah… you’re my mate. But just because you’re my mate, it doesn’t mean I have to be yours,’ he says, almost sounding sad. ‘What do you mean?’ I ask, puzzled, and he sighs.

‘Humans don’t have mates, so you can be with anyone you want to be, fall in love with anyone you want to fall in love with. You don’t have to be with me if you don’t want to,’ he explains, and I feel even more confused. ‘Wait, so what does it mean then? Like… I’m your mate but I don’t have to be with you? So what’s the point of it then?’ ‘It means that I will never… want anyone else, or love anyone else. Not that I want or love you – I barely know you – but y-’ ‘I know what you mean. So… if you don’t end up with me, you’ll end up alone?’ I ask, and he nods sadly. ‘But don’t… force yourself to be with me because of that. I want you to be happy, whether or not that’s with me,’ he says, and I can feel the burden of it already settling on my shoulders. I’m the love of his life – he’ll never love anyone other than me.

‘Um…’ I begin, but Chan cuts me off, ‘you don’t have to, like, make any decisions, or even say anything. I just… thought it was important that I told you.’ ‘Yeah, I know. I’m glad you told me, because now I can tell you that I’ve been crushing on you since the second I saw you, and I’d really like it if we went on a date together,’ I force myself to say, feeling so nervous even though he’s just told me I’m his mate. He just stares at me for a second before he says, ‘really?’ ‘Yeah. Really.’ ‘Well… I’d really like it if we went on a date, too,’ he says with a grin, and I can’t help but smile back shyly. ‘God, y/n, I was supposed to ask you out! Not the other way around!’ he complains, and I let out a fond laugh, amused at his childish behaviour that he’d never show around the other boys. ‘Well, you did make the first move by telling me I’m your mate,’ I point out and he thinks for a moment before a satisfied smile spreads across his face. ‘Yeah, I guess I did,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes.

‘Come on, let’s go back in. You must be cold out here, and we better get going. We’ll be turning soon,’ he says, standing up and taking my hand to pull me up from the bench. ‘So what’s the bet Jisung mentioned?’ I ask, curious, and Chan lets out an embarrassed laugh. ‘Whether or not I’d tell you tonight. They all betted I wouldn’t, and I said I would. They owe me ten each now,’ he says with a victorious grin. ‘I’m gonna deny all knowledge,’ I laugh, and his mouth falls open. ‘You wouldn’t betray me like that!’ he exclaims dramatically, making me giggle. ‘I won’t if you share the money with me.’ ‘y/n,’ he begins, eyes sparkling with amusement, ‘you’re my mate. I’d share my life with you if you asked.’

‘Ugh, did you hear that sappy shit that wolf was saying? Oh, y/n!’ Jisung says when he sees me, eyes lighting up which makes my heart stop for a moment. ‘Hey,’ I say, sounding breathless to my own ears, and Jisung grins at my tone, looking up at me stood before the bench with dark eyes. ‘y/n. It’s nice to meet you,’ the boy sat next to him says, and my eyes flit to Hyunjin, the boy Daehwi originally tried to set me up with. He’s even hotter in person. ‘Hey, Hyunjin. It’s nice to meet you too,’ I say shyly, and he grins. ‘Sorry I couldn’t make it. But I’ve heard Jisung more than made up for my absence. You two have struck up quite the friendship, right?’ he asks, and my gaze turns to Jisung, the boy smirking, and I look back to Hyunjin before nodding. ‘Yeah, we have, actually. He’s a great friend.’ ‘And a great wingman too, by the sound of it,’ Hyunjin grins, and I feel my face heat up at the thought that these two very attractive boys both know that less than two weeks ago, I was an untouched virgin who wanted to have sex before my first ever date. I’m embarrassed beyond belief, and it’s like they can both sense it, amusement settling on both of their faces.

‘Yeah, y/n, speaking of which, where is your date?’ he asks, and I remember why I came out here, a pout making its way onto my face. Jisung and Hyunjin move apart, making space for me on the bench, and I throw myself down with a long, dramatic sigh. ‘He is literally… so boring,’ I admit, both of them bursting into laughter. ‘Don’t laugh! It’s not funny! I’m, like, heartbroken!’ I complain, annoyed that they think this is funny, but I can also feel myself holding back laughter. ‘Sorry, sorry. But… y/n, I thought you wanted to have sex with him. You don’t have to find him fascinating,’ Jisung says, and I let out another long sigh. ‘I’m not like you stupid boys. I don’t wanna just have sex with someone because they’re good looking. I was attracted to him until I found out he’s literally the most boring guy I’ve ever spoken to in my life. Okay, maybe not boring. Just… we’re not compatible, so it was really, really awkward. And the worst thing was that it seemed like he didn’t even realise that is was awkward. He just kept talking,’ I explain, the boys nonstop laughing as I talk, and I’m laughing along with them by the time I finish speaking.

‘That’s such a shame, y/n,’ Hyunjin says, still laughing, and Jisung says, ‘maybe not. I don’t want you in a relationship.’ I look at him in surprise, and he looks surprised too, as though he didn’t mean to say the words out loud. ‘You were good, angel. I’d like it if we c-’ ‘Okay! Okay, you don’t need to finish that sentence,’ I say embarrassedly, not wanting him to say it in front of Hyunjin who fails at stifling his laughter. ‘So why are you here, y/n? You’re best friends with Daehwi’s girlfriend, right? And she’s here. Why are you out here with us?’ Hyunjin asks, and I hesitate, not exactly sure myself. ‘I guess… I wanted to come and complain to Jisung about the fact that he took my virginity for no reason, because I’m not even gonna have sex tonight,’ I say miserably, kicking at the gravel like a sulky little kid. ‘I mean, you could,’ Jisung says with a grin, Hyunjin bursting into laughter as I choke on thin air. ‘I’m kidding.’ ‘No, you’re not,’ Hyunjin chuckles, and Jisung says, ‘you’re right, I’m not.’ ‘Well… thanks for the offer, but I’m not in the mood. I’m too upset,’ I say dramatically.

‘Let me cheer you up then,’ Jisung says, and I side-eye him. ‘I just told you I’m not in the m-’ ‘No, I don’t mean that! Let’s go dance together, or we’ll go somewhere for food if you’re hungry. Let’s get your mind off… Soggy Seonghwa,’ Jisung says with a grin, both Hyunjin and I dissolving into uncontrollable laughter. ‘Soggy Seonghwa?’ I giggle, Jisung nodding. ‘I don’t think he deserves the Sex God title,’ Jisung says, tone all shady and gossipy, Hyunjin and I laughing even more now. ‘Well, whatever. You don’t have to cheer me up, it’s okay. I’ll go find one of the girls and get blackout drunk,’ I say, Jisung frowning. ‘No, no. I don’t have to cheer you up, but I want to cheer you up. I mean…’ he trails off, and Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at Jisung, as though there’s something going on here that I don’t know about. ‘We’re friends, right?’ he asks, and I nod instantly. ‘Of course.’ ‘Well, you must know I see you as more than just a friend, and I think you see me as more than just a friend too. So, yeah. I’m kinda relieved things didn’t work out with Soggy,’ he says, and I’m too shocked to laugh, butterflies exploding in my stomach.

He sees me as more than a friend? ‘Wait, what do you mean?’ I ask, and he laughs. ‘I like you, y/n, and you like me too. You might not know it, but you do. I can tell from the way you feel when I’m around. So let me… woo you,’ he says, making me laugh, and his lips curl up into a small grin. ‘Woo me?’ ‘Mmhmm. Let me dance with you, or take you for food, or take you back to your apartment,’ he smirks, and I roll my eyes. ‘Having sex is not wooing me.’ ‘I never said anything about sex,’ he grins with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘So what would we do?’ ‘I don’t know. Watch a film? Cuddle? Bake? What is it you human girls like to do when you’re dating someone?’ he asks, and I let out a gentle laugh. ‘That stuff sounds about right. But I don’t want to leave yet.’ ‘Okay. Let’s go dance then,’ he says with a grin, jumping up from the bench and pulling me up with him. ‘Hyunjin, you coming?’ Jisung asks, and I’m reminded that the other boy is sat there too. He smiles up at us, eyes shining with happiness, and he shakes his head. ‘You guys go. Have fun. I’m gonna find a cute little human girl. Got any friends, y/n?’ he asks with a mischievous grin, and I laugh. ‘Quite a few. And you’re hot, so you can take your pick,’ I say, Hyunjin jumping up from the bench at that, all of us laughing as we head up to the house. ‘Wait,’ Jisung says when we reach the back door, looking at me with a scowl, ‘did you just call my best friend hot?’

‘He is pretty hot, though. I won’t lie,’ I say to the boy as I step out through the back door, the pretty girl dressed very similarly to me and the two pretty boys on either side of her looking at me. ‘Yeah, I am, right? Can I get you a drink?’ the taller boy asks with a cocky grin, and I roll my eyes. ‘My boyfriend’s getting me one,’ I say, and his grin falls. ‘You just said I’m hot,’ he complains, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m Lucifer’s daughter – I can say what I want,’ I tell him, and his mouth shuts straight away, the girl looking a little scared and the other boy looking amused. ‘Shame you’re in a relationship. You’re pretty hot,’ the taller boy says, and I grin at him. ‘Thanks. She’s hotter, though,’ I say, pointing at the girl who looks like she wants to curl in on herself and disappear. ‘Me?’ ‘Mmhmm. You got that cute little innocent vibe going on. Makes you even hotter.’ ‘Oh. Thanks,’ she says, a little more at ease now after the compliment.

‘She likes him,’ the taller boy says, pointing at the short boy who’s grinning proudly. ‘Share her,’ I say, only half-joking, and the girl coughs out of shock. ‘Share me? I’m not a chocolate bar,’ she says indignantly, and I feel my eyebrows go up in admiration – she’s a feisty one. ‘I like you, angel. You into girls?’ I ask, and the shorter boy’s smile drops. ‘You’ve got a boyfriend.’ ‘What about it? You think Princesses of Hell conform to different sexualities? Or to monogamy?’ I ask, purposely trying to piss him off, and he opens his mouth before closing it. I look at the girl again, waiting for her answer. I’m not actually interested (I mean, I wouldn’t say no) but it’s fun to tease her little boyfriends like this. ‘I’m… open to anything. But I do kinda like him,’ she says, pointing to the shorter boy, and I shrug. ‘Shame. I’m way hotter than him,’ I grin, the boy letting out an indignant noise.

‘I’m getting you a drink, and you’re flirting with someone else?’ I hear Felix’s voice behind me, and I turn my grin to him, my heart jumping at the amused smile on his face, the boy handing me a cup of some fruity flavoured vodka. ‘Ah, you’re the boyfriend? I’d sort her out if I were you – she’s flirting with my girl,’ the shorter boy says, and I roll my eyes. ‘He’s just jealous because he knows I could steal her if I wanted,’ I tease, baiting him, and he scowls at me. ‘Stop trying to steal the demon boy’s girlfriend, please. I’m not in the mood to hold you back from a fight today,’ Felix says, and I look at the shorter boy interestedly. ‘You’re a demon?’ I ask, surprised Felix realised and I didn’t, and he nods. ‘An incubus. So is he,’ he says, pointing at the other boy who gives me a lazy grin, and I look between the three in them with amused interest.

‘This just got way more interesting. A human girl has two incubuses wrapped around her little finger,’ I observe, the taller boy blinking in surprise. ‘I just met her,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘You think she’s hot, though?’ ‘I’m not blind, of course I think she’s hot.’ ‘You got competition, kid,’ I say to the shorter boy, the frown on his face making me hold back a laugh. ‘Anyway, I don’t care about you two. Well done, girl. Bagged yourself… at least one incubus – I don’t know about this guy, but the other one definitely likes you. He’s, like, radiating jealousy right now,’ I tease, enjoying this, and Felix puts an arm around my waist. ‘Okay, that’s enough picking on the human girl and her incubus boyfriends,’ he says softly, the three of them letting out annoyed noises. ‘He’s not her boyfriend!’ ‘He’s not my boyfriend!’ ‘I’m not her boyfriend!’

‘Relax, he’s just kidding,’ I say as Felix begins to pull me towards the living room. ‘You’re a handful,’ he mutters amusedly, and I roll my eyes. ‘It’s fine, Lix, you don’t have to worry about me.’ ‘I don’t. I worry about the poor thing that you piss off to the point where they try to fight you and then you kill them,’ he says tiredly, and I let out a laugh. ‘I wouldn’t kill them. Probably just injure them a little.’ ‘Wow, I’ve really changed you, huh?’ he jokes, and I shove him gently as we reach the farthest corner from the DJ booth, both of us perching on the bay window.

We’re silent for a few moments, just looking at all the partygoers. It’s been quite a few hours now, so people are very drunk. The wolves left a little while ago, ready for their turn, and the vampires are making the most of their absence; they’re all scattered out into the party, biting people (consensually – I think) left, right and centre. The humans here seem at home around us otherworldly beings – in the space of a minute, I notice a human boy making out with a wizard in the corner, a group of human girls and succubuses dancing together in the middle of the room, and a pixie boy on the lap of a human girl, the two of them playing cards with their pixie and human friends. It’s quite nice to see the way everyone mixes together so freely, without worry or judgement, but we all know that nothing like this would happen in any other district. That’s why District 9 is so special.

I look at Felix, the boy deep in thought, and I lean against him, pressing a kiss to his neck. ‘What are you thinking about?’ I ask him against his skin, and I can feel him grin. ‘Whatever you’re thinking about,’ he says, and I groan, making him laugh. ‘That was so cheesy.’ ‘You’re dating an angel, babe. Get used to the cheesy lines.’ ‘I might have to dump you if you use another one.’ ‘If I can deal with you flirting with random human girls and demon boys, and nearly starting a fight with one of them, you can put up with a bad line every now and then,’ he grins, putting a hand on my chin and tilting my head back to press his lips to mine. ‘You’re lucky you’re so cute, because I wouldn’t put up with it from anyone else,’ I grumble when we break apart, and he smiles at me softly.

‘I’m so glad God was fine with it.’ ‘Of course she was! I told you she would be. You just worry too much.’ ‘I know, I know. I can’t believe you spoke to God dressed an angel when you’re literally her biggest betrayer’s daughter.’ ‘Did you just refer to my dad as God’s biggest betrayer?’ I ask with a raised eyebrow, and he winces, making me laugh. ‘Sorry.’ ‘It’s fine. He’s not that good a dad, anyway.’ ‘Oh, God, have you got daddy issues? Would be nice if you’d told me before I started dating you,’ he says, mirth in his eyes, and I shove him gently. ‘You’re so annoying.’ ‘You wouldn’t have me any other way,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes. ‘You’d be boring if you weren’t so annoying.’ ‘Oh, thanks.’ ‘I’m kidding. Kind of. No, I’m joking, I’m joking. I wouldn’t have you any other way,’ I admit when he starts pouting, laughing at the proud grin that stretches across his face.

‘You’re so whipped for me.’ ‘I am not whipped.’ ‘You are.’ ‘Am not.’ ‘It’s okay. I like you whipped. Whipped you is super cute.’ ‘Cute?’ ‘I was gonna say sexy, but I thought that’d make you act up,’ he laughs, and I raise an eyebrow, feeling my eyes glow red and watching the grin from his face slowly slip away. ‘You thought right,’ I reply quietly, hand snaking up his chest to the back of his neck, and he gulps imperceptibly. ‘You think there’s any empty rooms upstairs?’ he asks, hands sliding around my waist, a small smirk on his face. ‘Trust me, I’ll make one empty if I have to,’ I grin and his smile grows as he takes my hands into his, our drinks discarded when he pulls me up from the windowsill. ‘You know,’ he begins, pulling me towards the stairs, ‘I never thought it’d be so sexy to hear you threaten to murder people so we can have sex in an empty bedroom.’

‘I’m so tired of all this romance,’ I wail, throwing myself back against the sofa, and Yuna raises an eyebrow at me, holding back a laugh. ‘Romance?’ ‘She threatened to kill people for him. That’s so romantic.’ ‘She’s a demon, so it’s not a big deal for her.’ ‘Did you just say murder isn’t a big deal?’ I ask, and Yuna is silent for a moment. ‘This party’s changed me,’ she says with horror, making me burst into laughter and momentarily forget about my drunken wallowing. ‘It’s crazy being around all these different… magical people,’ she says quietly, obviously not wanting one of the said magical people around us to hear and take it the wrong way. ‘We’re always around vampires. This isn’t any different, if you think about it,’ I say, reminding myself of vampires and then letting out a dramatic cry, Yuna shaking her head amusedly at me.

‘y/n, just go speak to him if you’re that upset. There’s no point ruining your own Halloween by being all drunk and sad. Just speak to him, get it out of the way, and then you can enjoy yourself!’ she says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to enjoy myself if he breaks my heart,’ I say dryly, and she thinks for a second before saying, ‘he already did, didn’t he?’ ‘Well… yeah, but-’ ‘So what have you got to lose? Go, speak to him.’ ‘I thought you were calling him an idiot earlier,’ I say pointedly, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘I was before I realised you’d be moping all night and drowning your sorrows in the worst alcohol I’ve ever smelt in my life,’ she spits, making me laugh when she scrunches up her nose, pushing my cup further away from her. ‘It doesn’t smell that bad.’ ‘Tell that to your breath.’ Yuna!’ ‘I’m kidding! But here,’ she says, reaching into her bag and pulling out bubblegum, handing me two pieces. ‘If you’re gonna go speak to Hyunjin, you don’t want to smell like cheap gin,’ she says as I down the rest of my gin and put the bubblegum in my mouth, quickly chewing it down from solid little shells into stretchy elastic gum.

‘Okay, now go. Seriously,’ she prompts, pushing me up from the sofa, and I nod, looking down at myself. ‘How do I look?’ I ask, and she inspects me. ‘Touch up your lipgloss. And take the jacket off – it covers how cute your top is,’ she says, and I do as she says, applying some more lipgloss from the tube that’s in my back pocket before pulling off my jacket, Yuna taking it from me. Now, I’m just in black leather trousers, a black crop top and black heels, looking more like sexy Sandy than pretty pink lady Sandra Dee. ‘Go. And don’t tell the girls you’re going – they’ll stop you and give you all sorts of stupid advice,’ she instructs, and I nod, heading towards the kitchen before I lose my nerve, avoiding the girls dancing in the middle of the room. I take a deep breath when I reach the door before putting my best uninterested face on, pushing the door open and revelling in the way all eyes turn to me. It’s much quieter in here, due to the door separating us from the loud music, and the fact that it’s very late and a lot of people have already left, so I can hear people whispering about how I look.

I ignore the whispering, not bothering to look around yet because I don’t want Hyunjin to catch me looking at him, and just head towards the fridge, pretending to decide what to have before I reach for a small glass bottle of alcoholic pink lemonade. I close the fridge, looking around the room for straws and I spot them, right beside where the vampire boys stand. I head towards them and they all go quiet, obviously expecting me to speak to them, but I don’t bother, just reaching for the packet of black straws and pulling out a clean one. I begin to walk away, hoping my plan will work, and I have to stop myself from punching the air when I hear Jeongin call out, ‘y/n!’ I turn back around slowly, pretending to be surprised when I see them. ‘Oh, hey! I didn’t see you guys there. Where have you been all night?’ I ask, taking a couple steps towards them but still keeping my distance, my eyes staying on Jeongin and not straying to the annoyingly handsome boy beside him. ‘We’ve been around. The question is, where have you been all night? There’s eight of us, and one of you, and none of us have seen you,’ Changbin says with a grin, and I raise an eyebrow, taking a sip from the lemonade. ‘I’ve been around,’ I reply, and his eyebrows go up, an impressed look on his face. ‘Touché,’ he murmurs, a grin spreading across my face at that.

‘I’m gonna head back to the girls in the living r-’ ‘Why in such a rush, y/n? Stay and chat for a bit,’ Felix says with a small smile, eyes cryptic, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘About what?’ ‘You.’ ‘What about me?’ ‘What you’re dressed up as,’ Felix says, and I laugh softly. ‘I was a pink lady, but I got too hot, so I took my jacket off. Is that all?’ I ask, the boys exchanging a glance. ‘No, no, not quite,’ Jisung says, and I roll my eyes. ‘What else then?’ I ask, sounding exasperated to my own ears. ‘I wanna know why you’re so drunk,’ Seungmin says dryly, and I let out a laugh. ‘I’m not that drunk.’ ‘Your eyes aren’t fully focused, the smell of peach gin is literally dripping off you, and you’re chewing on bubblegum to try and cover it up,’ he says pointedly, and I let out a little sigh. ‘Okay, so maybe I’m a bit drunk. What about it?’ ‘You’re usually so responsible, y/n. It’s not like you to get drunk. What’s going on?’ Minho asks, smirk on his face, and then I realise what’s going on. They know what happened, and they know that I’m hurt and that’s why I’m drunk, and they’re basically dangling it in my face.

‘If you must know,’ I begin, all of them practically hanging off my words, ‘I was drowning my sorrows, but now that I’m so drunk I can barely see straight, I feel a lot better. So good, in fact, that I might take the incubus I spoke to a little while ago up on his offer. So, if you’ll excuse me.’ I turn on my heel, heading back towards the living room, and then I hear his voice. ‘y/n, wait,’ he says softly, and I freeze, taking a deep breath before I turn back to face them, the boy shrinking in on himself when he sees my face. This is the first time I’ve looked at him properly, and it breaks my heart how beautiful he looks, his soft dark locks falling over his eyes, tall and lean build dressed in all black, top few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and trousers skin tight. ‘Yes?’

‘Drowning your sorrows?’ he asks softly, and I want to scream at him, my eyes filling with tears. ‘The embarrassment of leaving me without a word wasn’t enough, and neither was the ghosting me or the telling your friends about what happened so they could interrogate me whilst I’m smashed, so now you have to humiliate me by making me spell out how hurt I am? Is that what’s going on here?’ I demand, voice wavering, and about a million emotions pass across his face, the most prevalent being guilt. ‘No, y/n, that’s not what I-’ ‘I don’t care. Please… just leave me alone like you have been the past few days,’ I spit out, turning back towards the living room, and then I hear sudden movement, feeling a hand grab my arm a few moments later.

I turn around to see him, desperation on his face, and wrench my arm away angrily. ‘y/n, please, let me… explain,’ he pleads, and I hesitate. This is all I wanted, an explanation, and that’s what I came in here for, but now… I don’t know if I can handle the hurt. We stare at each other for a few seconds until I open my mouth, not quite sure what I’m about to say. ‘Fine. Explain,’ I say quietly, relief appearing on his face. ‘Can we go outside?’ he asks, and I nod as I put my drink down on the counter top, letting him lead the way out of the kitchen and out through the back door, everyone whispering behind us.

‘I’m really sorry,’ he says when we’re sat down on a bench, and I let out a humourless laugh, not even looking at him. ‘You can’t be that sorry; you’ve been ignoring me and avoiding me since that night. No reply to my text, no call back, and you didn’t come to the apartment once. So forgive me for not believing you,’ I spit out, and he lets out a little sigh. ‘y/n, I am sorry. And I know I shouldn’t have ghosted you, but I wasn’t sure what I else to do. I should’ve just spoken to you and explained from the start.’ ‘You don’t need to explain. It’s pretty obvious,’ I say bitterly, and I can see him smiling sadly out of the corner of my eye. ‘No, y/n, you don’t understand,’ he says gently, and I meet his eyes as he tells me, ‘I love you.’

I feel my heart stop, my entire body freezing, and it takes a little while to process what he’s telling me. He loves me. ‘So… I heard right. That night, when I was falling asleep, you said it then, didn’t you?’ I ask, and he nods with sad eyes. ‘And it scared me so much that I left.’ ‘But… I love you too,’ I tell him, and he doesn’t react as I expect, just smiling wistfully and nodding. ‘I know you do. You have for a while, and I’ve been lying to both of us by pretending I didn’t know, and pretending I didn’t love you back. But I did, the whole time. I do.’ His words are all I’ve wanted to hear from him, for so long, and yet, he looks so sad, sounds so sad, and it’s breaking me. Why is he acting like there’s something between us that’s stopping this? ‘You love me, and I love you. What else is there to say?’ I ask, and he lets out a mirthless laugh.

‘You’re a human, and I’m a vampire,’ he says simply, as though that explains everything, and I blink at him before saying, ‘what about it?’ His lips curl up into an amused smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘I’m over 300 years old. You’re, like, a fifteenth of that-’ ‘So what? We look the same age anyway.’ ‘We won’t forever. You’ll only get older, and I’ll stay the same. You’ll be 90 dating a 20-year-old.’ ‘That doesn’t matter. We’re in love, Jin. I don’t care what you look like, or what I look like.’ ‘And neither do I. But I won’t even be able to love you in public in a few years’ time, y/n. People will think you’re, like, my sugar mommy or something.’ ‘But I don’t c-’ ‘And, not just that, you’re alive. I’m dead. We can’t have a family, or have children-’ ‘Ugh, I don’t want kids. I never have,’ I say, nose scrunched up in disgust at the thought – all they do is eat, cry and shit. I’d rather not, to be honest – and he lets out a laugh. ‘You might change your mind as you get older.’ ‘Then we’ll adopt.’ ‘y/n…’ ‘I’m being serious! Wouldn’t you prefer to give a kid a better life than they’d have in the care system? Better than me having to carry a baby and my body getting all fucked up because of it.’ ‘And then the kids we adopt will grow to look older than their dad,’ he says pointedly, and my mouth is open, but no words come out. I’ve run out of solutions.

‘It doesn’t matter, Jin,’ I whisper, and he shakes his head sadly. ‘y/n, you’re being silly. You know that it’d never work out. I love you and you love me, but I can’t ask you to give your life to me, when I can’t give mine to you. We can’t grow old together, can’t start a family, can’t love each other in public – these are basic things in a human relationship.’ ‘But we wouldn’t be a human relationship.’ ‘Which is exactly the problem,’ he says softly, and I don’t even know what to say, my eyes full of tears. ‘I’m sorry, y/n. This wasn’t supposed to happen, but you make it too easy for me to love you,’ he whispers, taking my hands into his and my tears spill over onto my face, making him let out a gentle laugh. ‘Don’t cry,’ he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss my tears away, and my eyes flutter shut. I wish I could live in this moment with him forever.

‘Okay, I’ve got a solution,’ I say, mustering up the courage to tell him something that’s been on mind for months now, and he breaks away from me with a raised eyebrow. ‘Living in seclusion so we don’t have to deal with people judging us for the difference in the ages that we look?’ he asks suspiciously, and I laugh. ‘That’s not what I was gonna say, but it’s a good idea,’ I joke, and he rolls his eyes. ‘It is not. What’s your solution?’ he asks, and I take a deep breath before saying, ‘you turn me.’

He doesn’t react, just staring at me for a few seconds before he says, ‘I must be losing my mind because I could swear you just suggested me turning you into a vampire.’ ‘I did.’ ‘y/n, are you fucking crazy?’ he demands, and I sigh. ‘Jin, hear me out-’ ‘No! Are you actually insane? There is no way in fucking hell!’ ‘Why not, Jin? What would I lose? The pale thing is a myth, the burning in the sun thing is a myth, the-’ ‘y/n, are you listening to yourself? That stuff might be myths, but you will have to drink blood to survive! You will watch generations of humans that you love die! You will lose your humanity!’ ‘Jin… I don’t care. The blood thing doesn’t bother me at all. You haven’t lost your humanity, so I don’t think I will either. And… maybe it’ll suck seeing my family die, but my friends… they want the same too, Jin. We’ve all been thinking about it and discussing it, and we all want to turn,’ I admit, his eyes nearly falling out of his head.

‘This isn’t, like, a matching tattoos thing! This is serious!’ ‘We know, Hyunjin, we’re not stupid! We’ve been discussing it for months! But I don’t care if they do or not – I want to anyway. I want to be with you… forever,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘No. I won’t turn you, and I won’t let anyone else do it either. It’s not happening.’ ‘Hyunjin, please. This isn’t a spur of the moment thing. I promise I’ve thought it through. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of time with you. I was just waiting to see if you felt the same way before I mentioned it to you. It doesn’t have to happen straight away, obviously, but I just want you to consider it,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘You don’t understand. My selfish side wants it more than anything – you think I don’t want to spend the rest of time with you? But my responsible side can’t let you give up human life for me.’ ‘Why? It’s what we both want. We’ll be happy, Jin, so happy, forever. I don’t expect you to agree to it, but promise me you’ll at least think about it, and we’ll discuss it regularly,’ I say, and he doesn’t say anything, looking down at his hands. ‘Please, Jin,’ I plead, and he sighs deeply before his eyes meet mine, my heart stopping like it does every time he looks at me.

‘I’ll think about it. That’s all,’ he says over my loud shout of celebration, an amused smile curling up his lips as I throw my arms around his shoulders, his hands coming around my waist to hold me against him. I tilt my head back to press my lips to his, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his kiss – it’s only been a few days, and it feels like a lifetime. He grins against my mouth and we break away after a few seconds, his lips coming to my forehead. ‘I love you,’ he murmurs against my skin, and I feel like I’ve never been happier when I reply, ‘I love you too.’

We stand up from the bench after a little while, holding hands as we head back up to the house. ‘You wanna dance?’ he asks, and I can’t say yes quickly enough, my eagerness making him chuckle. ‘Oh, the girls are gonna kill me.’ ‘Why?’ he asks, and I hesitate before replying, ‘maybe because they all hate you for ghosting me, and we’ve been cussing you nonstop since you left.’ His mouth drops, fear in his eyes, and I wave it off. ‘Don’t worry, it’ll be fine when I explain. But they didn’t even know I was coming to speak to you.’ ‘Well, neither did you. You came to get a drink,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘You’re 300 years old and you still don’t know about girls, do you? I came to get a drink because I knew you’d speak to me, stupid,’ I say as though it’s obvious, and his eyes widen. ‘You’re so sly.’ ‘Oh, whatever. You should be glad. If I hadn’t set it up, we wouldn’t be…’ I trail off, not actually sure what we are, and a small smirk spreads across his lips.

‘Wouldn’t be what?’ ‘I don’t know. What… are we?’ I ask, and he laughs. ‘Will you be my girlfriend?’ he asks amusedly, as though he thinks it’s silly, and I know he’s only asking for my benefit. ‘Yes,’ I grin, preening at the question, and he rolls his eyes. ‘So we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, I suppose,’ he laughs, and I laugh along with him, half finding it ridiculous that after confessing that I want to be a vampire so I can spend the rest of my life with him, our relationship is reduced down to boyfriend and girlfriend, and half ecstatic that I can officially call Hwang Hyunjin my boyfriend.

‘Do you know how exciting this is?’ I ask, and he chuckles, raising an eyebrow. ‘We’ve practically been dating for months already anyway.’ ‘I know, but it’s official. Now I can tell people you’re my boyfriend instead of saying you’re my hot friend,’ I explain, and he looks at me in confusion. ‘Who have you been saying that to?’ ‘On nights out, when girls would ask if you’re my boyfriend. I’d say no, you’re my hot friend, and they’d ask if you were single.’

‘And what would you tell them?’ he asks suspiciously, and I bite my lip. ‘No. Obviously. Why would I want all these pretty girls trying to get with you?’ ‘You’re the only pretty girl I’d ever want, y/n,’ he murmurs, making my heart skip a beat, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m being serious! Look how hot you are in your… costume,’ he says amusedly, eyes travelling up and down my body, and I roll my eyes. ‘I promise you, I was wearing my Pink Ladies jacket a little while ago,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow, taking his own jacket off and putting it over my shoulders. ‘That’s better. I don’t like people looking at what’s mine,’ he says lightly, only half-joking, and I feel my stomach fill with butterflies. ‘Now,’ he says sternly, face serious but eyes shining with amusement, ‘what did you say about an offer from an incubus?’

5 YEARS LATER

Chan and y/n are married and living together in the house next door to the pack house, raising three little werewolf pups. y/n still works night shifts at the diner because she’ll miss it too much if she leaves, and she’s the only one who knows the wolves’ after-turning orders off by heart. She has it ready for them when they arrive, and she feels herself falling in love with him all over again each time he walks in, the same way she did the first time he walked in with his sandy hair and his bright sparkling eyes.

Minho and y/n are in a long-distance relationship – she’s in District 9 and he’s in the 2nd Circle of Hell. He stays at her apartment a couple nights a week, and he takes her for date night every Saturday. Ryujin and Chaeryeong are also seeing a couple of Minho’s friends – y/n’s friends and his friends make quite the dysfunctional group. y/n found a ring in his jacket a little while ago and has been waiting for him to propose, waiting eagerly until she can say yes. She hasn’t come up with a solution to the problem of him not aging when she does, but that can come later, because their love is all that matters to her right now.

Changbin and y/n are happily ruling together in the 5th Circle, doing whatever they can to turn demon hunters back to their original state. They have had a child together and y/n is pregnant again – Minho and his girlfriend pay regular visits because of how much the human girl adores their child. They are old, so old, but y/n feels like a little girl when she’s with Changbin – their love keeps them young and happy, and will do so for the rest of time.

Hyunjin and y/n still live in their apartment, now as an engaged vampire couple. They’ve been engaged for a couple years now and still haven’t started wedding planning yet – they have all of eternity to do that. Lia and Yeji have both turned, and Yuna, Ryujin and Chaeryeong plan to do so too, in the next year or so. y/n’s family knows what she and Hyunjin are, and they have since gotten over their initial despair about the fact that their baby girl will stay this way for the rest of time, and the couple are always welcome at family events. The two have discovered that vampire blood tastes so much better than human blood, and has better effects than human blood too. y/n is still Hyunjin’s little blood bag, but she has a particular fondness for the name now.

Jisung and y/n have their own apartment together in District 9, and they are very much in love. At the beginning, y/n found it difficult that Jisung has sex with people for a living, and so they began… training y/n, building up her stamina and tolerance in a sexual sense, and now she can satiate Jisung alone. Even if she couldn’t, Jisung still wouldn’t have sex with anybody else – she’s the only one he ever wants. y/n and Seonghwa are good friends now, and Jisung and y/n regularly meet up with Seonghwa and his husband (Jisung found it hilarious when they got news of Seonghwa being closeted all that time – he claimed that it made perfect sense because no straight human boys are good enough at sex to get the title of Sex God). y/n still gets a little upset that Jisung can’t get her pregnant, but she’s come to terms with it and the couple have now started to look into adoption.

Felix and y/n have bought a house together on Earth, their common ground, and are engaged – y/n found it slightly ridiculous when Felix proposed to her, considering they’re otherworldly beings that don’t really conform to humans’ customs like marriage, but she still said yes in a heartbeat. Lucifer and God both regularly reach out to the couple, asking them to visit, and have even showed up at their house a few times (it was more than awkward when they both visited at the same time). Felix and y/n stayed a few weeks in the 5th circle with Satan’s daughter and her love, and their child took a particular liking to Felix. After seeing him with the child, y/n suggested they have children of their own, and they have begun trying to get pregnant.

Seungmin and y/n are living together in District 9, the two of them slowly aging together as a happy married couple. y/n redecorated Room 13 at the surgery for Seungmin, and she much prefers it now, spending a lot of her time there with him, training to become a magical nurse. Seungmin’s mum was over the moon when y/n started making appearances at family events again, and she played the part of the enthusiastic mother-in-law perfectly at their wedding a year ago. y/n is still trying her best to be a nicer person, and she is mainly succeeding. She slips up every now and then, but Seungmin is always at her side to pull her up on it.

Jeongin and y/n lived together at 325 Sunshine Street for a little over three years before Jeongin sat y/n down to tell her that he wouldn’t be a ghost for much longer, and would be passing over to the afterlife soon, as he had discovered that his unfinished business was the house. He’d found someone worthy of living in the house, and they’d truly made it a home – where he and his friends had made it fit to live in, a house in only a home once it’s full of light, love and life. And once y/n had brought that, his business on earth was finished. She held back her sadness over the last few weeks of his time with her, and threw a farewell party with all of his friends. She felt her heart break when she awoke one morning to find that the other side of the bed was empty, and he was gone forever. Jeongin’s friends drop in nearly every day to check on y/n, and she’s doing much better than she was when he first left. She still misses him, more and more every day, but she’ll be okay, because she knows that even if she can’t see him, he’s always with her, no matter what.

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k-writer1998 · 3 years

Text

Who Said Love Was Easy? (1/12)

There are many different kinds of people who come and go from your life. Some will stay constant and sturdy like a river, growing alongside you, others will come like a whirlwind who wreaks havoc and leaves just as quickly, then there is everything in between. In this twisted maze of connections, that is where our story begins. A steadfast boy, a girl with a past, a little bit of alcohol, mistakes, and some love. Where can you go wrong with that?

angsty fluff

w.c: 1.6k

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I didn’t think I would see him, here of all places, but at the same time somehow it seemed appropriate. We did meet for the first time when he was drunk confessing his problems to me after all. Who knew he would start working at one of my favorite pubs? Taking my usual seat by the window in the corner, he came by and took my order. Of course because he was drunk when we met he doesn’t seem to recall our encounter at all. “Jeongin” the name tag says… After receiving my order I took my time enjoying my food and subconsciously my eyes followed him around all night. The first thing I noticed was his line of sight. Whenever he had a spare moment to breathe, his eyes scanned the room for a specific person. Watching them interact though made things very clear. Definitely knew each other before working here and he likes her. I think he started to notice my gaze at some point because he would occasionally throw a confused glance at me which turned irritated as time went on. It wasn’t until it got slow and there were only a few people besides me in the pub before he got frustrated and confronted me as he brought my bill.

“What are you?”

“Someone who has feelings for you?”

I innocently cock my head to the side, leaning forward and resting my chin on my hand as I smiled up at him. I saw annoyance flash across his eyes before it was replaced with the polite customer service shine again.

“I'm sorry but-”

“You have feelings for her?” I point to the girl manning the cash register before continuing, “I know. If you're someone like me, you can easily tell.”

“Someone like you?”

“How would you say it? Someone who is in love with love? How long have you liked her anyways?”

“I don't think that’s appropri-”

“It's just a question.”

“... Four years,” he mumbled out as he cast a nervous glance at the girl.

“Ah, I see…”

“Yeah so you should just give-”

“Wait,” I hold up my hand to stop him. “Don’t misunderstand. That doesn't change my feelings for you. That’s not how it works.”

“Feelings? We've only just met.”

“We've met before though, don't you remember?”

I gave him a cheshire-like grin as his face turned into one of questioning before he shook his head to focus on what he was originally doing, rejecting me.

“Well regardless I'll still like her so you're wasting your efforts.”

“With the few facts about me you’ve just learned, do you really think I would like someone who is only capable of shallow feelings? Don't worry, I know fully well what I'm getting myself into. It was nice chatting with you, I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on.”

With my bill paid I walked off, knowing I left the boy baffled. As I made my exit, his voice carried over the sound of the few patrons in the pub and a pleased smile crept to my face.

“Who was that?”

“That’s y/n, she’s a regular. She’s sometimes hard to deal with cause of her straightforwardness, you’ll get used to it,” Jaehyung, the owner, laughed.

I didn’t go to the pub any more than I usually did but true to my word I saw Jeongin every time I was there. Nothing underhanded, apparently fate just decided to align our paths for the time being. I’ve also had the chance to meet and talk to Gahyeon, much to the dismay of Jeongin whose careful gaze eyed me every time I spoke to her. Because of this, every time I try to talk to him, he’s apprehensive as if I would extort money from him or something with this information. He has yet to figure out our first meeting too. I know it's a ridiculous notion to expect him to remember a drunk night, but he wasn’t even trying and I couldn’t say it didn’t hurt a little. Especially because he hasn’t left my mind from that night on. My monologue was cut short by Jaehyung’s voice calling out to me.

“How’s my favorite neighbor?”

“I’m your only neighbor Mr. apartment-at-the-end-of-the-hall.”

“As prickly as always I see. How have you been?”

“The same as I was two days ago when you last asked,” I roll my eyes.

“I know you secretly love me bugging you. You’d probably forget how to speak if I didn’t.”

“Whatever,” I roll my eyes, “how’s business been?”

“Pretty good lately, we’re getting a lot of regulars now because they love the newbies. Like look at that smile, refreshing and endearing.”

With that our eyes both glanced over to the table Jeongin was serving and it was like literal flowers were blooming over there. It can’t be denied he had that youthful charm to him but I couldn’t fully appreciate his ambiance when there were girls so obviously flirting.

“If you aren’t careful he might take your self-proclaimed spot as the face of the pub because his looks definitely top yours, especially since he’s fresh and young,” I teased to divert my attention from the scene ahead.

“Okay you brat I get it, you want the old man to leave you alone. You don’t have to attack me to tell me,” he whined.

“I’m only stating the facts, don't be a baby.”

We both laughed and continued to chat more but from the corner of my eye I caught a different watchful gaze. As my eyes fluttered in that direction for a moment, Gahyeon had dropped her gaze frantically. In the next beat my eyes darted to Jeongin, finding him in an instant since I looked for his figure so often, and of course his gaze was on her. Looking back at Jaehyung as he was still rambling and this whole entanglement was going straight over his head but then again he was always a dense one when it came to things like this. Well isn’t this quite the predicament?

Since I stayed later than usual today Jaehyung told me to wait for him so we could go home together, something about it not being safe. I can literally take a taxi but I’m not one to argue with him, I always lose somehow. I went to help with the dishes while everyone was cleaning the rest of the pub and some time in the middle, Jeongin came in.

“When will you stop this?”

“What? Being a regular? Hate to break it to you but I was a regular before you worked here so I technically have seniority,” I stated lightly.

My eyes darted to the side to examine his face as my hands moved on muscle memory. He seems to fidget at my response, casting a nervous glance back to the front of the shop. Ah… and here I thought I was getting under his skin and finally had a fraction of his mind for myself.

“I make you uncomfortable don’t I? Not because I like you but because I know, and I’ve been friendly with Gahyeon right?”

If his eyes widening as big as saucers was any indication, I hit the nail on the head. I felt my pettiness come up and I couldn’t help but scare him a little so that maybe I could occupy his mind just a bit.

“Instead of worrying about what I might say, worry about what I know. You were quite talkative on the night we first met… but I won’t say anything to her. I’m not one to meddle just because I like the person.”

“Ah… uhm, well-”

“You aren’t the confrontational type are you? Cat got your tongue already?” I laugh.

“Well how am I supposed to respond when you already know?” He mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“My bad, sorry. Gotta go.”

I smirked at his flustered exit, his reactions are so cute. I was half way through drying the dishes when Jaehyung caught me, forcing me to sit on the counter in his line of sight as he finished the rest since I’m “not on his payroll.” Of course, like a magnet, Gahyeon appeared and used chatting with me as an excuse to watch Jaehyung. She has it just as bad as Jeongin does for her except this is new to her… either that or she just doesn’t know subtlety.

“Oh so how do you guys know each other? You seem close," Gahyeon asked.

“We’ve been neighbors for three years, he’s the nosy aunty I never asked for. Right Jaehyung-oppa?”

“Hey, I’m no aunty, there’s only a five year age gap.”

“You are when you nag me about eating and my social life all the time.”

He scoffs at my snarky comment and I roll my eyes with a smirk. Focusing back on Gahyeon, her smile seemed to be pulled a bit tighter than before. Obviously this interaction only seemed to fuel her suspicions in addition to it not answering her underlying question of our relationship so she tried again.

“You must be a regular because of him then,” she laughs just as Jeongin comes up behind her.

“Of course. It has my two favorite things, good food and my favorite person.”

My eyes connected with Jeongin’s as the reply fell from my lips, my mixed message registering in Gahyeon’s mind. On the other hand Jaehyung gasped.

“I’m your favorite person?!”

“Who said it was you?” I tested.

“I- If not me, it better be Jimin cause Chan and Younghyun are off limits!”

“Who knows, why does it have to be Jimin-noona?”

My eyes drag back to Jeongin again and the corner of my lip quirks up just a smidge more as I catch him rolling his eyes at me.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids au #skz #skz imagines #skz aus #yang jeongin #jeongin imagines #jeongin au #server jeongin x regular y/n #my writing #wslwe?

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taofarren · 3 years

Text

Tina The Cortina

It was December in Cape Town and the South African president decided to surprise us with the gift of additional lockdown restrictions. Alcohol was banned, and spending time on the beach or sea in any capacity was suddenly highly illegal.

With our surf plans turned on their head, my girlfriend, Renske, and I decided to head in the opposite direction of the forbidden ocean, and celebrate New Years Eve in the Cape wine lands. It had been a debate in my mind between taking my mom’s plastic, yet reliable car, and returning before she got home from holiday the next week, or taking Tina, my 1969 canary yellow Ford Cortina, and having the freedom of cruising home when we wanted to. We chose risk, pleasure and freedom!

Renske had always accepted my car without too many questions, but during this particular trip she teased me each time we drove up the smallest hill. “Babe, are you sure we can make it up this one?”.

Of course I defended Tina the Cortina loyally. For a 52 year old lady, she had taken me on many successful adventures, and could surely handle a slow cruise to the wine lands. I was almost offended that Renske was teasing her. It didn’t cross my mind that it came from a place of real concern.

Half way through the journey I realised this was my longest trip Tina and I had taken in the three glorious years we had spent together.

My previous car had packed out after surviving me through the madness of my late teens. There were only terrible replacement options available within my very limited budget at the time. A ridiculously bright yellow car constantly popped up within the Gumtree search results, and I browsed the pictures as a joke. Yellow was my least favourite colour, and I wouldn’t dream of having a car that obnoxiously bright. Curiosity, and lack of a better option lead me to a test drive with the owner in Grassy Park. Despite my terrible driving and constant stalling of the old clutch, I instantly fell in love.

Just the feeling of sitting in the car felt so right. There is instantly a connection when driving a machine that old. The low seat, the thin steering wheel, having to throw my entire body weight into each turn of the power steering-less wheel. This was a real car. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew I had to have her.

We agreed on a straight swap. His keys for mine at the traffic department. As happy as I was, I was too scared to tell my parents. In our initial chats about potential new cars, they shot down any idea of something classic and dangerous. I knew she was exactly the match that they were dreading, and I hid her from them until it had truly sunk in, and there was no turning back for me. They had to meet and accept her whether they liked her or not.

Even though she caused my mothers head to shake in disappointment, everywhere else she went, people would whip their heads around and smile. Whether a passenger or an observer, it instantly made you happier.

From the beginning, this car was surrounded by an invisible force-field of love. This came in handy, as rather stupidly, I think I only wore the stiff seatbelt a handful of times.

1969 must have been a time of minimal accidents, as this particular model had no headrests, and there was no such thing as an emergency stop. Stopping would require you to jump on the brake about 30 metres in advance. Surprisingly (most probably due to the colour), I never had a single accident other than driving very slowly into a few walls.

Contrary to popular belief, owning a classic car is not about self-image, and in this case, most definitely not a “chick magnet”. To most women it was just an old yellow car. Once they had their photo for Instagram, the reality of the journey would set in, and it would be a true test of their level of “maintenance”.

It was in fact more of an old man magnet. Or rather every man. From the day I got her, old men asked me complicated questions about her regularly. I learnt about her anatomy by rushing home to Google what on earth they had asked me.

Almost every day I had offers to buy her. Even though these were mostly from car guards, petrol attendants, and a few times from a persistent garbage truck driver, I would obligingly take down their numbers, knowing I would never sell her. I knew that Tina enjoyed the attention and got the ego boost she deserved.

I wasn’t the only one to feel an emotional pull. It seemed to be the car that many people’s parents had, and seeing it triggered fond memories of their youth.

I was once approached timidly approached by an elderly lady who I mistook for a Jehovah’s witness:

“Excuse me!”.

“Good morning?” I enquired, squinting up at her, while flashing my most realistic, fake smile. She stooped in closer - Her wide eyes magnified by thick glasses, grey hair exploding out from underneath a Christian hat.

“Did you know that my mother had this car when I was younger?”

She blinked at me expectantly.

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to have known that, but I decided to humour her.

“Uh…. Good memories?”

She leaned in closer with a crooked grin;

“Yes… especially on the back seat!”

She giggled and walked off with a vacant smile

A few days later, the memory of that lady’s grin still fresh in my mind, a beggar at a traffic light told me that his father had the car when he was younger. Cheerfully, I responded along the same lines, saying that he must have been a great man, to which he responded:

“No, he was a horrible man”, and walked away sadly.

Despite constantly threatening to overheat in traffic, she dominated the city roads. To get across a busy intersection, I would slowly drive into the middle of the road, and people would smile and let me in, just to stare at her beautiful square bum with glassy eyes.

She had a knack with roadblocks too. On a particular incident, with the car filled with mates drinking beers after sundowners on the beach, I was pulled over with a lit joint in hand. I panicked and stalled diagonally across the road.

“Fuck fuck fuck”

I tried to casually stamp the joint out with sandy feet as the policeman walked over with a serious look on his face. Smoke hung in the sweaty interior and the beer bottles on the floor clinked to a halt as he leant down to the window.

“Excuse me sir… what year model is this?”

“Uhm,1969” I replied nervously

“Yoh, look after her hey!” He smiled as he waved us through.

One of the main reasons I had rationalised the choice of a classic car, was that I would learn about how cars actually worked, feeling so detached from my previous modern car. Over the years I learnt intimately what was possible to break in a car, as everything slowly fell apart.

Electrical faults, numerous flat tyres, the radiator exploding in the middle of a petrol station, ball joints seizing, the floor rusting through to the road, using torches as flashlights to get home at night. I got really good at putting my ego aside and asking people for help.

For summer there was definitely no air con. The beautiful black pleather seats became stove plates against your skin, and the only fan was created by the draught rushing through the holes in the bodywork.

This cooling system, so useful in summer, became a freezer in winter. Long johns, extra hoodies, a beanie and gloves were always packed in the trunk. To this day, the usually comforting sound of rain outside the window shocks me awake. I would lie in bed as it poured down, dreading the inevitable puddles filling up the car floor through these holes and the aged window seals.

Strangely enough, the lack of headrests and questionable seatbelts made me feel more alive. The constant struggle to keep the loose steering wheel in a straight line, while listening to every sound in case of a problem, forced me into complete presence.

I saw so much more while travelling slowly. It felt like a leisurely stroll while on holiday, compared to a frantic run. Even if I was late it was literally impossible to drive faster. I learnt that at this point, it wouldn’t help to stress. Pushing the car further than its current 90 km/h top speed would most probably result in something breaking or flying off. I was forced to relax and enjoy myself in every situation.

Every ride, no matter how short, felt like an adventure, a real road trip. Each time I arrived at my destination, I was overcome with gratitude for having accomplished a magnificent feat.

On the streets I was instantly respected. I would pull up to traffic lights next to the latest luxury cars in elite places like Bantry Bay, and have the driver wind down his window to tell me how much he loved my car. When I’d ask them to swap, they would chuckle and zoom off while I tried not to stall.

We also received major street “cred” within the more alternative communities. This came in most useful when working on a documentary with the Ocean View Spinners, a community who passionately (and illegally) spun their cars until their tyres burst. I eventually realised it was safe to park inside the actual spinning parking lot, and upon seeing Tina for the first time, their perception of me shifted. Even though I refused their offers to spin her, I became one of them.

I was invited to an event in a township in Paarl to shoot one of their sessions. When we met at sunrise, their car was too full to take me, as it was a big family affair. The young pit crew boys fought over who would join me in my car for the journey, and eventually all piled in. Their excitement and pride of just being a passenger in Tina filled me with an ovewhelming sense of gratitude as we cruised past the grannies of Fish Hoek main road. A white boy driving while they hung out the window, hooting and hollering to their rap music blaring from a portable speaker.

At the Lavender Hill traffic lights, a notorious crime hotspot, the fun spluttered out along with the engine. Dead. In the worst place possible. Literally a bright yellow sitting duck with doors that couldn’t lock, and a boot full of camera gear. Even though they were the pit crew for the spin car, they were youngsters, and didn’t have any tools or the right knowledge. Internal panic kicked in as I ran through unrealistic solutions in my head. My internal spinning was interrupted by someone pulling in behind us. Sweating, I reached for the locking mechanism that didn’t exist on this model. Hijacking clearly wasn’t a problem in 1969 either It was a member of the Ocean View spinners convoy and most importantly, a mechanic.

They all crowded into the bonnet and fiddled until she begrudgingly returned to life. A few hundred metres of relief, before another cut out. Another stressed session of heads crammed together and hundreds of theories thrown around before we were back on our way.

During the event in Paarl, I was so overwhelmed by the deafening sound and smell of the cars being whipped around the “pitch”, that I completely forgot about my own car troubles. As the sun began to dip, it was advised that we leave the township and start the long drive home. Tina was towed out in amongst the traffic jam of exhausted spin cars and we started the painful process of resuscitation. The Spinners were just as tired as the cars, but they kept their patience with the old lady. An eventual tow-start and I was instructed to not let her cut out, whatever I do. No stops allowed on the hour long journey home.

Night shortly fell, and as we rattled along the road, one of the headlight fuses bumped out of place. The two headlights in their full glory hardly lit Tina’s path, now we were reduced to a single headlight. I couldn’t risk stopping to re-adjust it as I was sure she would cut out wherever she rested. I tuned out the passengers as they animately debated the events of the day, and zoned into the sound of her unhappy engine. We had lost the rest of the convoy on the highway, and this time I didn’t even want to contemplate what would happen if we broke down in the middle of nowhere in the dark. I stressed us the whole way back to Ocean View, and as soon as we turned into the road and Tina saw our destination, she cut out.

This time she was done for the day, and nothing would bring her back to life. After everything she had been through that day, she had to spend the night in Ocean View. I got a lift home from the spinning crew, and arriving without a car, and a black face full of tyre particles, I wasn’t quite sure how to explain the day to my family. “Good, thanks” had to do.

After a few weeks of rehabilitation, Tina was returned by a mechanic in Ocean View but still wouldn’t run properly. For more than a month she sat in the winter rain, while I desperately tried to figure out what parts she needed, and from where I could source them. Because she was so old, it was difficult to find someone that understood her.

She sat there limp and lifeless. My only form of freedom in those lockdown months, dead without much hope.

I eventually found the part that would get her moving and to Uncle Wasief, the world’s most reliable mechanic. He delivered the news that it had finally come to the crucial moment we had both been expecting: Very soon, I had to either let her go, or give her a complete makeover.

He fixed her up as best as he could until then, and we were temporarily back in action.

That day, I made a promise to her to give her the love she needed. I wouldn’t just take from her, but would listen to her requests.

I had all the windows and seats fixed, all the little odds and ends that I had previously dismissed as “character” and saved the quoted amount for a full restoration. She would be booked in at the end of January.

Over the howl of the wind though the holes, the disappointing sound of the portable speaker’s battery dying, brought me back to Renske, and our current journey to the wine lands As we arrived in Franschhoek, I think we both let out a secret sigh of relief, happy that we had made the right choice after all.

After a peaceful week of unnaturally green grass and far too much bootlegged wine, it was time to return to the city, reality, and the new year. As usual we were running late. This time for the last available Covid test appointment before Renske flew to Kenya for a job. If Tina travelled at full speed with no stops, we could just make it to the appointment on time.

The impressively spacious boot, as well as every other surface of the back seat, was crammed to full capacity We had both of our lives packed into the car: Camera gear, laptops, and weeks worth of clothing.

Driving down the first hill and taking in the beauty of the passing vineyards one last time, Renske abruptly turned to me: “Hey man, I think your car is smoking”.

This wasn’t completely unusual, and I attempted to sniff a few times with my hay fever impaired nose. A few metres later the engine cut out completely. She’d done many strange things, but this was certainly out of character for the old gal. We sat in silence, and heard the usually soothing sound of crackling flames, confusingly out of place on a sweaty 30 degree day.

The smell of smoke quickly formed a grey cloud as I ran around to the bonnet, lifting it to reveal a healthy fire. Right in the middle of my engine bay.

“Uhhhmmm…”

Renske hopped out as my brain struggled to compute the next step.

The only knowledge I have of burning cars is from action movies, where they quickly explode in a ball of fire. The passengers are generally running away, or flying through the air in slow motion. Sometimes both. Not interested in the flying option, we started to grab all our bags, and run them up the hill.

During each frantic trip, we tried to figure out which bags were the most important, as we took them higher and higher. If we can only grab a few bags before it explodes, what do we take? My beach umbrella rolled down the hill and my toothbrush flew through the air as unzipped bags vomited our lives out.

“Tao, your laundry!”

Your mind gets a bit muddled under that life or death pressure, and you start to ask yourself important questions about attachment. I was aware that Renske kept running back for random things that seemed unnecessary, yet I couldn’t help worrying about Sunny, the dashboard Hula girl.

After the toothbrush was successfully rescued, Renske remembered that her laptop was right in the front near the flames. Without a second thought, I sprinted to the car and grabbed it. As a video editor, my fear of losing saved work will always be far, far greater than potential death of any form.

We eventually sweated our hundreds of bags to the top of the hill and we stood to truly take it all in. It really was a beautiful sight that I will never forget. There was not a breath of wind on the perfect summer day. Plumes of smoke billowed out of the bright yellow car, framed by lines of vineyards and a perfectly still lake. Not a single part of me could feel sad while taking in such a surreal scene. The sight of this paradoxical beauty was enhanced by the anticipation of it exploding, and lighting up the nearby crops. Realising that this was not the ideal way to thank the farm owner for the lovely stay, I quickly called her up.

“Hi Ginny, quite a strange one, but my car is on fire. Ya… my car…. We were driving and it lit up…… Ya….. I was wondering if there was any chance you could please call the fire department?”

A few moments later, Francois the farm manager roared past. He barely parked before sprinting towards the burning car, wielding a fire extinguisher in each hand. In the shock, I had forgotten that I was a photographer, and I quickly grabbed my camera, and ran to join him. I was now filled with a different sense of urgency: to capture the tragedy.

A few photos, yet still no explosion as Francois and the fire extinguishers quickly snuffed out the flames. The dodgy wiring in the bonnet had reacted to some leaked oil, and everything in the engine bay was toast. The interior, which was the only part of her that hadn’t fallen apart in our love affair, was completely untouched. During her last dashboard hula dance, Sunny’s dress had been partly undone, yet not entirely removed by the flames. Her dignity was proudly intact as she obliviously continued to play her ukulele in amongst the smoke.

Once the curious farm workers cleared off, and the insurance company was notified, I found myself sitting alone with Tina’s burnt carcass in the shade of the vineyard.

Strangely enough, the only thing that came to my muddled mind was regret that we didn’t ever have sex in her extremely comfortable back seat.

Nothing could have prepared me for the many life lessons learnt by owning a classic car as my daily runner.

It’s amazing how adaptable we are as humans, and what we can overcome for love. Broken window? No problem, open the other one. It’s just how it was.

Their age allows you to understand and accept their imperfections, and this understanding leads to love and compassion.

As we all struggle to come to terms with our own constantly changing and ageing bodies, would it be possible to treat ourselves with the same level of compassion?

I was snapped out of my reverie by the tattooed tow truck drivers from Bellville arriving. A quick elbow bump and signature, and they winched her onto a flatbed truck.

I watched as she was towed away on her last ever journey; a burnt chunk of bright yellow metal to everyone she passed.

If only they knew.

Dear old Tina the Cortina . My friend, saviour, teacher and true love.

#vintagecar classiccardailyrunner storytelling creativewriting journal

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dindjarindiaries · 4 years

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Thunder - Chapter 1: Warm Front

gif via @hvitserkk

summary: Frankie and Luciana escape a party for some much-needed peace and quiet spent with each other, and unspoken feelings start to stir.

warnings: mentions of death, alcohol abuse, drunkenness, partying

rating: R

word count: 3.816k

masterlist

chapter 1: warm front

“I fuckin’ hate parties.”

Frankie sips his beer to hide his smile as Luciana laughs alongside him. “Yet, you’re always at them,” Luciana reminds him, sipping whatever concoction’s in her red Solo cup as she gives his bottle a flick. “And why don’t you ever use a cup? Are you ‘too cool’ for that?”

“Shut up,” Frankie mutters, biting back a smile as he nudges her shoulder. “I just prefer it ‘authentic.’” Luciana laughs as she lets out a sigh, leaning back against the corner of the wall.

Luciana’s not wrong. Even though Frankie hates parties with every fiber of his being, he’s almost always here at Benny’s frat house, finding himself unable to reject the time spent with his best friends. Over the past few years of college, Frankie’s found a friend group that’s become more like a family, unstable at times but also reliable. Tom, Will, and Benny are all people he met within his first week at school—but Santiago and Luciana have been close to his side ever since high school. Him and his four brothers have already planned to move into their next phase of life together serving their country.

Really, Frankie just wants to fly.

He always has. Ever since he was a kid, Frankie’s dreamed of being able to touch the sky. His gaze drifted upwards no matter what time of the day it was, admiring either the clouds or the stars above. His mother used to tell him he could catch a star if he got up high enough, and it would fit right in his pocket. His father used to say he could paint with the clouds, using the edge of a wing as a brush. Frankie would tell them that he’d paint his dad a portrait of their old family dog, and he’d get two stars—one for his mom and one for himself.

That was until his mother finally gave way to her condition, and his father wasted himself away with Jack and Jim Beam not too long after.

But now, Frankie’s got a new family who cares just as much about his dreams of flying. Being the “dad” friend already promised him a spot as their calm and collected pilot, anyway. Santiago always told him that he was the person who steered the group in the right direction—so it made sense that he’d do the same in the air someday. Luciana agreed with those claims. Even though she’s not going to follow the same path as the rest of them, she’s always said that Frankie needs to be in the air. He’s the only one she’d trust, she often tells them all.

So, it’s no surprise that Frankie’s once again found himself on the fringes of another one of Benny’s wild frat parties, keeping a watchful eye over his four brothers as Luciana keeps him company at his side. She’s not big into parties, either—just one of their many similarities. It’s what’s made Frankie draw so close to her, especially over the past few years at college. They understand each other like no one else does. Her and Santiago have been there for Frankie ever since his father started fading, and they practically adopted him into their family. But Frankie would never use the label “sister” on her. He doesn’t know why he can’t do it.

He thinks he might be starting to get an idea as to why, now.

Frankie looks over to see Luciana bobbing her head to the hip-hop tunes that blare out of Benny’s speakers—a firm rule for his parties: current hits only. Her brown eyes are sparkling as she watches the crowd of drunken college kids dancing in front of them, and Frankie likens the appearance of them to that of fresh honey dripping into a warm mug of tea. She has her dark hair tied back in a loose bun behind her head, and a few pieces fall around her face as her free hand tucks them away absentmindedly. Freckles adorn her nose and cheeks, and Frankie has to try to suppress the warmth in his chest when he thinks about how fitting they are for her.

Luciana soon catches Frankie’s eye, and she raises an eyebrow at him curiously. “What?” she asks, observing his close stare. She covers her mouth with her hand self-consciously. “Is there something in my teeth?”

“No! No,” Frankie assures her, chuckling a bit as he takes a hold of her wrist and brings her hand back down. “I just—” Frankie pauses, trying to think of a way to cover his ass, “—I was making sure you’re still awake.”

Luciana furrows her brow as she laughs at him. “I’m not sure how anyone could fall asleep easily here, Frankie,” she remarks, taking another sip of her drink.

Frankie tries to laugh it off, tipping the brim of his hat on his head before taking a swig from his bottle. “If I wasn’t standing, I probably could.”

“I know,” Luciana agrees, nudging his shoulder playfully. “You’re an old man stuck inside a college kid’s body, Francisco.”

Frankie wrinkles his nose at the sound of his full name. “What did you call me, Luciana?”

Luciana gasps lightly and narrows her eyes at Frankie. “Are you trying to full-name me back?”

“And what if I am?”

Luciana doesn’t get a chance to answer before Benny suddenly stumbles over to them, throwing his arms around their shoulders. Frankie and Luciana both fall back a bit at the sudden taking of his weight. Some of the drink in his cup sloshes on Frankie’s shoulder, and he holds back a heavy sigh as the reeking scent of vodka hits his nostrils. “Franksters! Luci-Goosey!” Benny greets them, his voice slurred. “What are y’all doing in the corner?”

“Minding our own business,” Frankie answers simply, earning a snort from Luciana.

“Oh, c’mon,” Benny scoffs. “You’re always avoidin’ the fun! You should go dance!”

“I’d rather watch people make asses of themselves,” Luciana asserts, gesturing to the main part of the house where some hotshot’s just tried to do a backflip—and ended up kicking one of their buddies in the face while also landing straight on their back.

“Fuck, y’all are boring as hell,” Benny whines, taking his own weight again as he lifts his arms from Frankie’s and Luciana’s shoulders. “But thanks for comin’!”

“We always do,” Frankie reminds him, slapping his shoulder in a friendly manner before he stumbles somewhere else.

Frankie and Luciana share a glance, barely able to contain their laughter as they shake their heads. That was the typical Benny interaction they’ve been waiting for, always being urged to do something other than sit in the corner where they’re more comfortable. Frankie wouldn’t change a thing about it.

“Luce, where’s your brother?” Frankie suddenly questions, looking over at Luciana with a raised brow. He’s lost track of his Santiago, Will, and Tom, and he wonders if they’ve gone somewhere else in the house.

Luciana shrugs. “Probably fucking up a nice game of pong,” she confesses honestly, causing Frankie to chuckle to himself.

It’s true—the minute Santiago gets more than a few drinks in him, he’s an absolute shitshow. Any drinking game he touches turns to chaos. Santiago already has a high energy about him, and so it gets intensified when the alcohol starts pumping through his veins. Frankie doesn’t know how he does it, and sometimes he wonders what it’s like to be the life of a party. It’s a role he knows he’ll never fill.

“Hey,” Luciana’s voice suddenly draws Frankie out from his thoughts. He looks back over to see her looking up at him with a sparkle in her eyes, one that makes Frankie want to smile instinctively. “Are you ready to get out of here? I would kill for some pizza right now.”

Frankie laughs, nodding as he finishes off his bottle. It was his only drink over the course of the hour they’d lasted at the party, and so he doesn’t have to deny her request to go for a drive as they head out to his truck. It’s a rusty red color, worn from its years of use but still going as strong as ever. The guys and Luciana have often told him that it’s a perfect reflection of himself—but Frankie doesn’t try to think about it too hard. Going in deep isn’t something he’s mastered yet.

They get into the truck, and as soon as Frankie starts it up, the classic rock station starts to play. It’s his favorite—his parents loved to blast it when he was growing up. He has to suppress the smile that grows when he sees Luciana’s eyes light up out of the corner of his eye. “Ugh, Frankie, you have the best fuckin’ taste in music,” she tells him, closing her eyes as “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac flows out from the speakers. “I swear to God. Sing it, Stevie girl.”

Frankie chuckles, taking off for the local pizza place as Luciana hums along to the tune. He looks over every once in a while to see her gazing out of the open window, as if she’s lost in her own little world. Frankie’s always admired the way she does that so easily. Luciana often escapes into the worlds of her creation, but she somehow also stays grounded to her reality. She’s always been the person that’s able to get Frankie to escape his reality if even for a little bit—and that’s just one of the many reasons why he’s so drawn to her. It’s reaching a dangerous level, and he knows it.

It’s not a conversation he’s had with Santiago yet, but he knows exactly what would result from it. Santiago and Luciana are practically attached at the hip. They’re the kind of twins that truly share everything with each other—and should his sister’s heart be placed into Frankie’s hands, he knows Santiago would be on his case all the time. To make shit easier, Frankie knows Santiago wouldn’t let that happen in the first place. Luciana is off limits in any sense other than friendship, so Frankie doesn’t even let himself get there mentally. For now.

“Thunder only happens when it’s rainin’,” Luciana joins in with Stevie’s voice, and Frankie bites back a smile upon hearing it. “Players only love you when they’re playin’.” Luciana releases a light sigh, finally looking back over at Frankie as he navigates the dark roads. “I wish it was raining right now.”

“Yeah?” Frankie remarks, raising an eyebrow. “Why? Are you a pluviophile, now?”

Luciana giggles softly. “I always have been, Frankie. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”

Frankie shrugs, turning into the parking lot of the pizza place. “When have we ever talked about rain?”

“Fair point. I guess we have to do it more often.”

Frankie nods, putting the car in park and flashing her a quick smile. “I guess so.” He starts to get out of the car—leaving it running so that Luciana can stay inside with the tunes playing—but pauses as he holds up a finger and narrows his eyes in concentration. “A pepperoni eight-cut with the Italian parmesan crust?”

“You know me so well, Morales.” She offers a bright smile, one that involuntarily makes Frankie’s chest warm up as he completely gets out of the truck and heads inside. He places their order and waits for it, trying not to drown in his thoughts as he pictures himself flying high above them. He even tries his hand at daydreaming, attempting to envision himself painting his way through the clouds. He can see the world so small beneath him, putting himself in a place where he doesn’t have to think about everything he’s left there. All that would matter is keeping his eyes on the horizon and steering ahead—and maybe even capturing a star when the sun sets.

His daydream’s soon interrupted by the finishing of his order, and he takes the box with a low thank-you before heading back inside the truck. Frankie sets it on the backseat, chuckling when Luciana dramatically inhales the scent of the freshly baked pizza.

“God damn, do they make some heavenly shit here,” Luciana comments, causing Frankie to laugh harder as he starts to head back to the house. “I can’t wait to devour that.”

“That makes two of us,” Frankie agrees, glancing over at Luciana quickly as he drives on.

“Four slices for each of us,” Luciana reminds him. “It’s perfect.”

“Four?” Frankie scoffs playfully. “Last time, you could only handle three.”

“Oh, fuck off, Flyboy,” Luciana retorts. “Last time we also got garlic knots. I can only hold so much at once.”

“Sure, Luce. Sure.” Frankie laughs as Luciana swats at his shoulder, and he sees her shaking her head with a hidden smile as she crosses her arms.

They spend the rest of the drive listening to the tunes of the radio, sitting in an otherwise peaceful silence. It’s not too long until Frankie’s pulling into the long driveway of the house. It’s a respectively large space, split between the boys and Luciana. Everyone’s able to have their own rooms—save for Will and Benny, but Benny usually splits his time up between staying there and staying at the frat house—and they never let it get too crazy. Parties are always held at Benny’s frat house, which helps to keep their own home in shape. If it’s just the six of them, they’ll keep the party to themselves, but otherwise their home is like a sacred space just for their little family. Frankie wouldn’t have it any other way.

Just as Frankie’s about to turn the engine off, Luciana stops him, keeping his hand from touching the keys as she shakes her head. “Let’s eat in here,” she suggests, already starting to reach back for the pizza. “I’m really feeling these songs right now.”

“I can turn the radio on in the house,” Frankie reminds her, gesturing with his thumb to the house behind him.

“Yeah, but there’s something about it coming through the truck speakers.” Luciana sets the pizza box down onto the center console, opening it and taking a slice for herself. “It just really hits deep.”

Frankie snorts, also taking a slice and folding it in half. “Alright, but if you get grease stains on my seats, I’ll have no choice but to fucking kill you.”

“You got it, ‘dad,’” Luciana jokes, and Frankie shakes his head as she lets out a laugh. They continue to eat and bop along to the songs that play, mostly accompanied by Luciana’s random commentary on the selections. “Have you ever thought about how fuckin’ creepy this song is?” she reflects when The Police’s “Every Breath You Take” starts playing. “Like, it’s a love song, but he’s basically like ‘I’m always watching you.’ That shit is terrifying.”

“What, you wouldn’t find it romantic if someone was watching you all the time?” Frankie teases her while he moves onto his third piece of pizza, pleased to find that he still hasn’t gotten a grease stain on his jeans yet.

“Hell no!” Luciana lets out a cut laugh, shaking her head as she also goes for her third slice.

“Okay, fair.” Frankie pauses to bite off a piece and chew it up, contemplating his next few words as he does so. “Then, what would you consider romantic?”

“Jesus, there’s like… so many things.” Luciana’s gaze drifts to the roof of the car as she thinks, chewing on her food as she does so. Frankie waits curiously for her response, continuing to eat as he watches her think. “I mean, for starters, you can never go wrong with pulling the gentleman card. You know, like opening doors and pulling out chairs.”

“That’s not cheesy?”

“No! If anything, the fact that it’s going out of style is so depressing to me.” Luciana clicks her tongue and shakes her head, and Frankie can tell by the way she’s narrowed her eyes that she’s thinking again. “Honestly, the most important thing is just knowing what she likes. You gotta make sure you’re playing her favorite songs and bringing her to her favorite places—without her having to tell you ahead of time. Picking up on those hints along the way is so important.”

“Noted.” Frankie finishes off his third piece after he speaks, watching as Luciana raises an eyebrow at him.

“Plan on being romantic anytime soon, Morales?”

Frankie scoffs, shaking his head as he reaches for his last slice. “No, not likely. But it’s good to know.” He shovels a bite into his mouth, hoping it’ll keep him from having to speak again. Frankie soon realizes he’s unsuccessful, as Luciana’s head has now tilted in a curious manner at him. He releases a sigh, waiting until he finishes chewing to go on. “Maybe, one day, I’ll be able to take someone up to the sky with me. Show them the clouds. Catch a star for them.” Frankie shrugs. “Just—y’know—that’s probably not something I’ll have soon.”

Luciana smiles a bit, but Frankie easily sees a hint of darkness in her gaze. “That’s sweet, Frankie. But why don’t you think you can have it soon?”

Frankie’s breath catches in his throat. Why does he think he can’t have it soon? Because he’s not ready to let his heart be taken? Because he’s so guarded that only five other people know his true heart, but still don’t even know all of it? Because he’s denying himself a painful truth? Frankie doesn’t have a fucking clue. But Luciana’s still waiting for an answer, her dark gaze glittering as she waits to take her last slice into her mouth. “Not enough time, I guess. And how can I show someone the sky when I don’t even have my piloting license yet?”

“Fair point,” Luciana agrees, finally digging into her pizza. Frankie holds back a sigh of relief, continuing with his slice as well. They finish off their servings in comfortable silence, letting the sounds of classic rock lull them into a rhythmic state of conscious slumber. Frankie’s thoughts solely drift to the words of the singers, and he pictures himself hearing the songs play as he returns home from piloting school—his mother singing along with them as he shows her his license. She would smile at him in that endearing way she always used to and playfully ask if they can play Journey on their way up when she finally gets to fly with him. I want some Journey on our first journey!, she always used to joke with Frankie. Now, he just tries not to listen to Journey at all.

His trance is broken when Luciana suddenly lets out a gasp, and Frankie feels alert for a moment until he realizes that a new song’s come on the radio. He tunes his ears in and hears the beginning instrumental of Foreigner’s “Waiting For a Girl Like You”—a guilty pleasure song of his that he’s not willing to reveal to anyone else. But it must be Luciana’s, too, because she’s looking at Frankie with excitement in her dark gaze. “This… this is my fuckin’ song,” Luciana tells him, clearing her throat as the lyrics soon come in.

“Of all songs, you chose one of classic rock’s cheesiest?” Frankie jokes.

Luciana places a hand on her chest, pretending to be hurt. “It’s not cheesy. It’s romantic. And it’s an absolute classic.”

Frankie raises his hands in fake surrender. “Alright, Luce, you got me there. Go ahead, freak out.”

Luciana narrows her eyes at him, laughing it off as she starts to let herself jam along. “Maybe I’m wrong, won’t you tell me if I’m comin’ on too strong?”

“This heart of mine has been hurt before, this time I wanna be sure…” Frankie murmurs the words under his breath, hoping Luciana won’t hear it over her own singing. He would never hear the end of it.

“I’ve been waiting!... for a girl like you, to come into my life.” Luciana sings the words unashamedly, closing her eyes as she spreads her arms wide. Frankie chuckles lightly—more in admiration of her free spirit than in amusement. Luciana finishes the chorus and shakes her head, looking at Frankie with a raised brow. “I’m telling you. A fuckin’ classic.”

“Hey, I believe you,” Frankie retorts, chuckling as he releases a sigh. He looks around, seeing the dark street around them. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome in this truck. She’s gonna be begging for mercy if we don’t go inside soon.”

“Shit, I didn’t even think about that,” Luciana confesses, reaching for the empty pizza box. “I’m sorry, Frankie.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Frankie assures her. “It was worth it.”

Luciana simply smiles in response, setting Frankie’s chest ablaze yet again as they walk inside the house together. They remain silent as they settle in, soon heading upstairs to their respective bedrooms. Before they part, Luciana stops Frankie for a moment, her hand reaching for his arm. Frankie faces her with his brow raised. “Thank you, Frankie,” she says softly, her dark gaze looking straight into his. “For always being there for me—and getting some damn good pizza with some hella’ good tunes.”

Frankie chuckles softly, shaking his head at her. “You don’t have to thank me, Luci. I enjoy it just as much.”

Luciana widens her smile, bidding Frankie goodnight before she disappears into her room. Frankie bites back his own, entering his room and preparing for bed. He flops down onto it with a sigh, hating the way his mind feels cloudier than usual. He’s being swept by a feeling he’s had before—but it’s starting to almost overpower him now. Frankie’s afraid he won’t be able to ignore it anymore.

The lyrics to the song are stuck in his head. It’s a torturous reminder of himself and his own heart—and that’s why he’s annoyed when the lyrics run through his mind. It feels so right, so warm and true, the words taunt him. I need to know if you feel it too. Does he, though? Because Frankie’s pretty damn certain he’s content with ignoring every feeling he has. He’s been doing it ever since his mother passed—and he’s pretty sure he can keep doing it.

But then he thinks on that chorus: I’ve been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life. And Frankie can’t help wondering if that’s exactly what’s happening. As he hides himself underneath his covers to sleep, he hears distant thunder rumble outside, and he smiles for the fact Luciana will get her pluviophile moment—even if she’s asleep.

next part: chapter 2: cold front

thunder tag list: @youhavereachedtheendofpie @charmantbarnes @theindiealto @fangirl-and-stuff @phoenixhalliwell @maybege @amarvelousmandalorian @seawhisperer @mrsparknuts @saltywintersoldat @softpedropascal @i-hide-inside-my-head @sunshinepascal

permanent tag list: @mikahid @theforceofdarkandlight @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @burningsoulbloodyheart @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @lavenderl3mons

#i know it's like 2 am so y'all won't be around for a while #i'm waiting for the mando doc lol #also i love frankie please #my BABY #i'm making up his canon #we'll go with it #frankie morales #francisco morales #catfish morales #frankie morales fic #catfish morales fic #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #thunder fic #dindjarindiaries

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nothlits-archive · 4 years

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Zoe lunarsystem13 / lunar_system13 / lemonscenteddaves / zazberry is a dangerous person.

Other names they may go by are Raven, Cassandra, Luna, and various other system member names but they primarily identify themself as Zoe or the Lunar System and frequently use the number 13 and blue and purple heart emojis as an identifier. As far as I know they are only active on tiktok now, but do have Twitter and Instagram accounts under the above usernames.

This isn't to get attention or to be petty about anything. I just want to be fully open about my experience and I want to be able to explain my feelings concisely in one place. The biggest reason I'm writing this is because I am scared that Zoe will do to other people what they did to me, because they've shown themself to be unrepentant. I attempted to bring things up with them privately when we were still on speaking terms and it resulted in gaslighting about past situations and a complete refusal to listen to or speak to me ending in uninstalling discord to avoid me.

Content warnings for abuse, gaslighting, disordered eating, hospitalization, drugs, alcohol, sexual harassment, cheating, mentions of death.

Zoe and I dated for about two years from 2018-2020. We broke up in January 2020 and were on speaking terms until early May. We initially broke up amicably because I felt emotionally neglected and wanted to give Zoe the space they needed to work on some personal problems they'd been struggling with for some time by that point. We agreed they needed more time to themself and didn't have the energy to expend on both self betterment and a partner. I wanted to stay friends with them and stop letting myself get hurt by an absent partner.

A few weeks after breaking up, Zoe and I got into an altercation where it came out that Zoe had, for the entire duration of our relationship, felt that I would never have been able to meet their needs emotionally no matter what I did and elected to never share this with me or end the relationship. They told me they would eventually just make up for my shortcomings by "getting another partner". Zoe and I were both polyamorous, but this is NOT how I practice polyamory and I didn't think it was how they practiced it either. This totally broke me.

After this, Zoe blocked me on Twitter and discord. Without apologizing to me for anything, they began messaging every friend of mine they had contact info for, "apologizing" for hurting me and trying to spread a narrative that I was telling people the wrong information about them to make them look bad. Some of the people they messaged were people I did not talk to about my personal life and who had no idea that we had even fallen out. Some of them were my closest friends, who thankfully knew Zoe was full of shit and blocked them. They messaged my boyfriend and told him that they thought I'd only started dating him to get back at them for not reading my fanfiction, a claim that absolutely gutted me as it was never something on my mind and I would NEVER commit to a relationship for the sake of petty revenge over a fanfiction.

I had to message them from a second Twitter account to ask them about what to do with all of their belongings I still had and tell them not to worry about returning mine. I also messaged them that way to explain that what they'd done and said had devastated me and to reprimand them for messaging my friends weird shit about our personal business. They initially completely ignored me for multiple days until I texted their phone and asked them to let me know if they'd read my message so that I could move on and stop worrying about it all.

When they finally responded, it was with hostility and they only stopped slinging accusations about me when I told them I didn't see them as a bad person (a statement soon to change). We tentatively made up after they did one of their infamous 180s on me and apologized profusely to me, claiming they understood what they did was wrong now. Debatable.

This is where I think it's important to go into the content of our relationship. At the time of it all happening, I felt our relationship was healthy and stable. But red flags are hard to see when you're in it.

Zoe is a highly manipulative and narcissistic person. If you look up covert narcissism, they fit the bill 100%. They lie intentionally and consistently in order to make themself look innocent. They gaslight people to play the victim. They repeatedly put me into positions where my only option was to comfort them while ignoring my own feelings. If I stood up for myself or got upset at their behavior, I was told I was being cold or they would throw a tantrum about how traumatized they are and how they can't help it. I entered into a second relationship about a year into ours. Zoe was fully aware of and initially supportive of this, but after some time, any time I would bring up my other partner, Zoe would dissolve into accusations that I was going to leave them, accusations that I was ignoring them for my other partner, complaints that because of their disabilities they weren't as good (a repeated subject for them, which I always, always reassured them was not the case and it never was): all of this in order to obtain comfort from me over the existence of someone else in my life.

At one point, my boyfriend was considering moving out of his unhealthy home to live with a family member over an hour away from me and Zoe went off the rails to both of us, telling us it wasn't fair for us to be near each other in person if they couldn't be there, how they'd been dating me longer so it was their right to be with me first, how my boyfriend should have to stay where he was even though it was a bad environment for him. This was not a plan. It was a vaguely mentioned idea. Nothing ever came of it. Zoe apologized for this, but their possessive behavior never stopped. This interaction made me feel like an object, not a person they supposedly loved.

Another time, after visiting me, Zoe began harassing me over needing to be able to house them so they could move down to be with me permanently. They expected this to happen in a matter of months. Zoe is disabled and cannot work and at the time did not receive any government assistance. I work in retail and at the time was living with a friend's family. I did not have my own place. I could not afford to singlehandedly support myself, let alone two people. I told Zoe this, and they told me that if I didn't figure it out they were going to die. This devastated me. I cried for hours because of how bad they were making me feel over something out of my control. I could barely type out responses to them besides asking them to stop and apologizing, but Zoe kept telling me that I was acting like I didn't care and was choosing to give up on them.

After this passed, they did what they always did and flipped to affection flooding me: "I'm so sorry baby, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong at all, I love you so much and know you're trying so hard".

This sort of on/off behavior was constant. I never knew what was real, or if I'd actually done something wrong, or if Zoe was going to go off on me over the slightest thing. I brought this up to them multiple times. A lot of the time it was met with "I can't help it." Other times, they would apologize and then continue the same behavior.

I first started telling them I was feeling neglected in October 2019. Nothing changed. When we broke up in January 2020 they told me I never gave them the chance to change or fix anything. They then told me the problems I was having were inherent to their dissociative disorder so it wasn't their fault. They also told me that me breaking up with them made them feel like there was no reason to go on, presumably to make me feel guilty for ending a clearly toxic relationship where they clearly still weren't learning what they were doing was wrong.

Zoe would frequently accuse me of things I hadn't done and then behave as if those accusations were true. Not limited to: agreeing to mod a discord server my boyfriend made just to keep them out of it on purpose (the link was shared publicly on Twitter where they followed both of us and the server was 3 hours old when they confronted me), abandoning them and not talking to them at all for a week when I was extremely busy every day (I spoke to them at length every single day that week and was not unreachable at any point), many many instances of only being with my boyfriend because I saw them as not good enough due to disability (never true, ever). This led to me never being able to understand my own behavior because Zoe always acted as if I was doing something wrong regardless of whether I was or not. I was guilt tripped a lot for things I didn't even do. I believe Zoe is delusional and genuinely believed these things to be true, but that doesn't change that it hurt and scarred me to be treated this way for so long.

Zoe lied to me about their whereabouts and health frequently. Zoe has DID and many physical health problems they haven't been properly diagnosed yet because of the complex nature of their symptoms. I will not deny Zoe is disabled mentally or physically. But they often used this as a way to get pity or to guilt trip me. Near the end of our relationship, they would disappear for sometimes 14+ hours at a time with no warning. Because of this, I stopped reaching out to them about my feelings or trying to talk to them about anything serious because I had developed a sort of learned helplessness. If I felt that my partner was unreachable, I would spare myself the pain of reaching out and being ignored. My mental health was very poor at this time and I was struggling with my pet being sick and nearly dying. Zoe would tell me they were just sleeping a lot. I knew they were sick and often slept long periods, so I didn't push it but I did keep to myself. They became angry at me for not reaching out to them and told me they couldn't be there for me if I didn't reach out to them and that I didn't want them around. It was a cycle, and I'll admit that I contributed to it, but I did it to protect myself. This is all important because one of Zoe's alters soon told me that Zoe had been lying to me about sleeping and was actually just trying to intentionally keep me from knowing what was really going on, which I won't share because it's not relevant. Finding out my partner was lying to me when they were already being very absent in my life was a hard thing to handle.

Zoe would also go on to lie about intentionally not eating when they'd told it to me as being physically unable to keep food down because of their Celiac's and lying to me about the length of a serious decline in health that ultimately put them in the hospital. When my pet rabbit, who is like a human child to me, was on the verge of death, Zoe messaged me telling me they were scared they were about to die. When I told them bluntly that they needed to go to the hospital if they truly felt that way, they told me I hurt their feelings and that they didn't literally think they were dying and only said that to me so I'd tell them they weren't dying. While they knew I was in a crisis over potentially losing a pet I consider to be my main emotional support for nearly a decade. Their selfishness is truly limitless and if they think anyone or anything is infringing on their victimhood, they will do whatever they can to get pity and attention.

I cannot confirm that this is a lie, but I have my suspicions about it and it's a toxic situation regardless of whether lying comes into play or not. When Zoe visited me for the first time, they were determined to get and use my thc vape pen. In the past, Zoe told me that weed (and specifically thc) caused them to have seizures and so they did not use it anymore. Because I'd been fed this narrative of how scary the seizures were and how dangerous it was for them and how they couldn't have it anymore, I refused to give them my pen. When I realized how desperate they were, I even hid it. I had to go to work for a few hours one night while they stayed in my home (again, where I live with a friend's family). They became unstable and were essentially begging me to use the pen. I repeatedly said no, saying I wasn't going to be responsible for them having a seizure. They still kept pushing me. Eventually they moved on to threatening to drink alcohol in the house that did not belong to me. They threatened to walk to a liquor store (there isn't one within walking distance and they were all closed). They were unrelenting about the pen. Eventually I gave in because I loved them and they were hurting. They did not have a seizure. I know that now they smoke weed constantly. There's no real proof that they lied to me. It's possible they were misinformed or their health has changed. But they have a long record of lying to look like a victim, and it still stands that they guilt tripped me and cried to me and begged me to give them a substance they had told me would make them sick until I gave in to them. They have openly admitted to intentional automatic lying and see this as being to their benefit.

Despite claiming to be asexual now (they did not for the duration of our relationship), Zoe sexually harassed both my boyfriend and a close friend of mine who I won't name for their privacy. Zoe would send sexual messages to both and sent images and shared nsfw content with one of them without considering boundaries or discomfort of the recipient. They badly triggered my boyfriend and ruined their relationship with him by being predatory. I mention this because I don't want the label of asexual to make anyone think Zoe isn't fully capable of being sexually inappropriate with people. They have a short track record of it. After the incident with my boyfriend, Zoe told me that THEY felt like their heart was being broken and that my boyfriend had manipulated them by being triggered by Zoe's predation. They expected me to comfort them over this and I refused. The entire scenario was brought up to me vaguely with Zoe refusing to give details and trying to simultaneously act as if they were the worst person who'd ever existed and like they were the one being hurt and deserved pity and comfort for being inappropriate. Despite the polyamorous nature of our relationship, I do consider going behind my back to be sexual with my boyfriend to be cheating. Zoe has in the past been accused of cheating by their first ex. They maintain that they didn't, but knowing what I know now about their issues with boundaries, I'm not sure.

In May, I finally decided to try to confront Zoe about the ways they'd hurt me. I brought it up to them in the context of wanting to make them aware of the ways their behaviors could hurt others going forward. Zoe has always been at least outwardly very about doing better and believing people about trauma and trying to fix your mistakes (yes, I realize how stupid I was to believe this now). I thought they would be open to listening to me so they could try to avoid hurting someone else the way I felt hurt. The way this conversation ended up going gutted me worse than anything else has with them. Worse than being told I'd never be good enough. Because it was like the person I knew was just completely gone and I didn't know them at all anymore.

I brought up the on and off flipping behavior, the emotional manipulation, I provided a screencap of the conversation where they backed me into a corner about needing to figure out how to house them as an example. They responded by telling me I misunderstood the conversation and should've just apologized to them more and been nicer so they wouldn't feel like I didn't care (again, I'd been sobbing uncontrollably and could barely type responses which were mostly "stop", "I'm sorry"). Zoe refused to listen to me about my own trauma. They shut me down. The conversation ended with them telling me I was making them too angry and they'd be back later. They ignored me for four days and, I found out later, uninstalled discord completely to avoid having to read my messages. Instead of having a real-time conversation where we could actually hash things out and I could feel heard if not understood, I resorted to typing up all of my feelings in one message, telling them this was the last I'd be speaking to them because I couldn't keep torturing myself thinking we could be friends, and sent it.

They replied to me via Twitter days later with a non-apology about how I just don't understand what it's like to have DID and telling me that they don't spend any time thinking about me or what they did to me because they are just so sick that they can't manage it.

This broke me, completely.

Figuring all of this out has been an ongoing process. I truly believed our relationship to be healthy until I began examining things while trying to heal, and realizing the wound just kept going deeper and deeper and deeper. It's been months now since we've spoken and I still can't process everything. I am constantly remembering more fucked up things they said or did to me or my friends. I don't feel like I need to document all of it, especially since it spans such a long time, I only need to give examples of repeated problem behaviors they have given no indication of changing.

They are gaining a sizeable following on tiktok and that's what scares me. They are so manipulative and cruel and blind to other people's emotions or boundaries. They are self-important and refuse to be told that they're wrong about anything. They will do whatever they can in order to look blameless and innocent. They now claim an identity of self-actualization and I've seen a video where they try to posit that my life is "going poorly" because I don't believe in their religion and listen to a specific podcast about debunking pseudoscience. This is funnier than it is upsetting until you realize it's the same "your life sucks because you don't have the same belief system as me" argument Christians use constantly. Zoe made this statement knowing the trauma I went through regarding religion in childhood. So thanks for that one. It's minor comparatively but it's incredibly tone-deaf and a great example of their eagerness to seem like others are beneath them for arbitrary reasons.

Zoe does not, as far as I know, have friends, really. All of mine dropped them once they realized what a manipulative person they are. But just knowing they are on a public platform worries me. I am an adult who has been severely traumatized repeatedly and I still fell into their trap. I don't want to think about what they could do if teens or otherwise more impressionable people came to be around them. They are big into social justice and try to seem harmless and allied with minorities to seem even less dangerous, but they absolutely are toxic and unable to acknowledge their wrongdoings in any real way. The last they told me, they were isolating themself to work on things. I don't know if this is true and I have no way of knowing.

I want to end this with self-accountability. I was not and am not perfect. When my relationship with Zoe began, I had just gotten out of an extremely traumatizing situation. I had acute severe dissociative episodes as well as hallucinations and very unstable mood in general as I was adjusting back to being in a safe(r) environment than I had been for the past year. I acted out and lashed out a lot. All of this was apologized for in the best way that I knew how and I have done my best to change my behavior going forward. I consider myself to be in a much better space now mentally. I am always willing to work on problem behavior as long as I'm made aware it exists. There are things I did wrong in this relationship, and I've thought a lot about it, questioning myself and catching myself in old ways of thinking to correct myself now in all of my relationships. I didn't write this to pretend like I did nothing wrong. I am not innocent. But not being innocent doesn't mean these things didn't happen to me, or that they couldn't happen to someone else if I don't at least try to warn people.

Please don't message Zoe and definitely don't try to argue with them. Just don't engage with them. They've been given a chance to address their behavior maturely and they turned it down in favor of continuing to play the victim in public. Anyone trying to instigate anything with them is just going to give them more fuel to act that way.

I have already been treated like a liar for some of this information or had people believe Zoe over me on whatever accusations they'd like to make about me. That's been damaging but there's nothing I can really do about it. I'm open to answering any questions but I'm also going to ask that if you do message me about this, please be civil about it. I'm putting myself in a vulnerable place by writing all of this and I am already scared of the outcome. But I routinely convince myself that I'm making things up because of the nature of being gaslit so much. So I needed a written record of that even if Zoe doesn't like it.

If you read this, thank you. I've been internalizing a lot of things. Getting my experiences out somewhere concise will hopefully help my healing process.

#am now going into hiding the rest of the day because i'm scared bye

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purpleboyhowonee · 4 years

Text

Kim Brothers Mukbang [long]

(i turned off the subtitles because I think they barely subbed anything lmao)

it started on time with the bros nodding cutely

they blame each other for calling things awkward

they both start eating and myungsoo is shocked that a mukbang is showing a person eating. get with the times myungsoo

they both yell at each other for not saying anything whilst eating

munch munch

myungsoo: *looks at meat pancakes* is this cold??? sungkyu: ....yeah it’s cold

sungkyu: *makes snarky comment towards the show* also sungkyu: SoRRY im SOrrY

myungsoo: you even wore glasses today sungkyu: I did it for the 10th year :’)

Myungsoo: a bingo board should always start with the CENTER; especially since we talked about the center :’) (woohyun did insta live and made a joke about how sungkyu got his center spot taken)

*gets a cake* *doesn’t know what to do with cake*

*couldn’t light candle* *gives up and blows on empty air*

Myungsoo: Let’s talk about our fave memories Sungkyu: when you left the company Myungsoo: *pikachu meme* (me: oh fuck he did that)

they have a bingo board to fill out

Sungkyu mentions his favorite memory was their Thailand trip together (where he was mad because sungyeol threw him in the water when he said no and he lost a ring lmao. usual shit) Myungsoo’s favorite memories are the fun they had together during the world tour. (also how they made fun of Sungjong every time they talked together during world tours)

Fans are putting their fave memories: the brick incident (sbs inki bad era if you dont remember. but how can you forget) SK & MS: LMAO

they went on to talk about different memories fans commented: mentioned the 5 stop showcase, you are my oppa, sesame player ep7, that summer concerts, etc

sungkyu slipped and said 7 members and then quickly said 6. both shooketh

sungkyu makes fun of how tired the military boys sound lmao and how woohyun pre-recorded 20 years worth of videos before going to army lol

Next Bingo spot is them reluctantly feeding each other food (whilst saying one good thing to each other)

Sungkyu: ......you’re good looking *freaks out* Myungsoo: *Sungkyu avoiding eye contact* You did well

Sungkyu: We knew each other for more than 10 years now Myungsoo: we were both messes. yes. let’s not talk about it

they’re feeding us? ? ? ? ? whilst unwillingly holding hands???? Myungsoo: thank you for loving us for 10 years, please accept this food Sungkyu: Please stay well and become rich :) me: oh god

Next Bingo spot “10 Party On Our Own”

Sungkyu: What food do you think a party must have? Myungsoo: *takes a mouthful of meat* ....meat Sungkyu: ... (Sungkyu said alcohol btw lmao and did cheers with water. get lit dudes)

returns to eating

Myungsoo: *reads message* Take care of your health.... Myungsoo: *quickly turns to sk* HYUNG you need to take care of your health Sungkyu: IM HEALTHY. I just dont like to move. does not mean i am not healthy. the more you use something the more you wear it out (lmao ok)

they moved on to talk about health supplements and food idk where this is going anymore

myungsoo going for the food; sungkyu: is it good?

this is the point im starting to get hungry for meat at 7am bc of this AH

they quickly went back to talking about health and health supplements. are we sure this is the 10th anniv and not their 50th birthday or smth wth

talking about Oh My Baby OST

myungsoo: Live ???? Sungkyu: hold up let me finish eating

*sungkyu sings* *inspirits die in unison*

Sungkyu said he finished recording about 3 songs for his solo album!!!!

they finally got to asking how theyre doing lmao; myungsoo mentioned that he is also going to work on another project

do you heAr me. oh^

they finished a bingo. finally lmao. their reward is dessert.

Next bingo spot: 10 years past, 10 years later

Sungkyu: What would you tell yourself in the past? Myungsoo: You know how they say that the start is just the half, just work hard and have fun. You know there’s a saying Carpe Diem Sungkyu: immediately makes fun. what’s the word again??? Myungsoo: C A R P E DIEM. LATIN Sungkyu: If I told myself something in the past: it would be. DO WELL NOW. TIME GOES FAST AND YOU WILL BE OLD. Myungsoo: how would your past self reply? Sungkyu: What is that old thing?? *goes back to laughing about carpe diem*

Sungkyu: how old will we be in 10 years?? Myungsoo: ......oh wow you’ll be - Sungkyu: YOU’RE NOT MUCH YOUNGER THAN ME

Sungkyu: I believe we’ll still be doing Infinite in 10 years

sungkyu said they should do a dinner show for their 20th lmao

carpe diem x2

for goods, fan said they should hand out canes LMAO

sungkyu wonT LET CARPE DIEM GO lmao myungsoo is so embarassed

finally learned they had a time limit of an hour lmao

realized they barely ate

realized they have a penalty if they dont finish all the food. gives up

Calls for Cookie Chef when they didn’t need to; they’re doing a punishment

Saying bye:

Myungsoo: I’m very shy when it comes to words but we couldn’t be here without Inspirits and we’ll continue to work hard and please continue to support us

Sungkyu: We had a lot of good memories and we really couldn;t have done it without you guys, our members couldn’t all make it but there will be a day we can all celebrate together. and you know what I want to say last (carpe diem)

Sungkyu threw dart at the “5 types of hearts for Inspirits” myungsoo dies

myungsoo throws dart and lands on Sungkyu :))))))

give us those 5 hearts old man

they did the munch heart thing the kids do these days

oh god he did it

ending song: memories

me: still crying

Hope y’all watched this and if you haven’t please go watch this mess!

HAPPY 10TH !!!!!!

#infinite #inspirits #10th anniversary #10 years with infinite #sungkyu #myungsoo #do i tag the other members #i guess right #woohyun #sungyeol #lee dongwon #sungjong #heheheh

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zabrak-show · 4 years

Text

The Magnificent Twin Suns

A/N: Hello, omg this is my ObiMaul Magnificent Seven Crossover Fic. what have I done?!! Please do not hate me for this. I actually worked hard on it and honestly wanted to do more character work with all of the “seven” but ultimately, only ever wanted this to be a short one shot.

This is an AU of AU’s which if you know the history of Magnificent Seven is fitting. (it’s a remake of a remake of a remake) Which is also fitting of Star Wars being that it is essentially a remake of western films that were remakes of samurai films LOL anyway, expect much OOC weirdness and just whatever I felt like, OK! There is an OC, but she is mostly just filler as are the rest of the characters beyond Kenobi and Maul.

This was heavily inspired by one of my favorite artists on here @savagesleftarm Cowboy Art of ObiMaul this art broke my brain and the aforementioned fic ensued. I hope you enjoy it and if not, go easy on me cowpokes. I am but a simple fic writer tryin to get by.

Also, because I obsessed over this for a week, here’s a playlist I made while I wrote this 😆 I made it to play on shuffle, but I’m not the boss of you, play it how you like if you like!

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Death (no major character death, but still), Curse Words, Alcohol consumption, Cigarette smoking, Angst, specifically ObiMaul Angst

Word Count: 5.7K

gif from tombstone another western gem

The desert suns blazed unrelenting into the face of a crimson zabrak with intricate obsidian tattoos accenting his hardened and chiseled features including a crown of small horns. He brought his Colt Paterson revolver over his shoulder, still hot from the kill shot performed. Another bounty successfully tracked down and bagged. A half smoked cigarette hung from the zabrak’s lips, his face scowled from the smoke and the sun. Gunpowder, cigarette smoke, and death permeated the hot air. The zabrak took one last drag from his cigarette before throwing it down into the sand next to the dead body, the butt still slowly burning until finally it ran out of tobacco and paper to ignite, puffing out into a dusty pile of ash.

The zabrak holstered his gun and roughly wrapped the dead body in a canvas tarp and strapped it to the back of his pale grey horse, Scimitar. He mounted the horse and took off down the dusty path, hoping to get to Mos Eisley before sundown. The zabrak rode fast atop Scimitar, his black leather boots digging into the horse’s sides. His black jeans and black vest collected dust and sand that flew up from the horse’s galloping.

They rode for hours, until finally the zabrak pulled back on the reigns signaling Scimitar to slow down as they entered the Mos Eisley city limits. The city was still growing, with several buildings under construction around the edge of town. The main street area was bustling with different galactic species. Some native jawas and tusken raiders milled about amongst, rodians, weequays, twi’leks, and humans. Many turned to stare at the strange zabrak. His bright golden eyes staring straight ahead, not giving any mind to the civilians around him. He rode Scimitar up to a red brick building, dismounted and tied her to the hitching rail at the front of the building.

He slung the body over his left shoulder and entered the brick building with a calm authority to his every movement, a slight limp to his gait. He dropped the body at the feet of a weequay, leather brown skin matching his long leather overcoat. The weequay’s off-white shirt unbuttoned to show much of his chest; dark dirty jeans and mud covered boots, told their own story of hard work and life on Tatooine.

“Maul!” the Weequay exclaimed with jovial comraderiere, reaching out to grab the zabrak’s shoulder.

“Hondo.” Maul responded flatly.

“Eh, Money for blood’s a peculiar business wouldn’t you say?” Hondo pressed as he peeked inside the tarp and quickly obtained the credits for Maul’s bounty. Maul grunted in response as he stashed the credits inside his vest, and made his way for the door.

Nighttime was approaching, the sky a painted medley of pinks, oranges and yellows as the suns dipped down past the horizon. Maul headed for the Mos Eisley saloon for a well needed drink and to look for his next job. He stepped into the saloon doors and headed straight for the bar.

The saloon was lively and most paid no mind to the ruby red zabrak as he sauntered into the establishment. A red Nikto sat at the piano playing a twangy melody, while animated voices and glasses clanging together filled up the saloon’s auditive atmosphere. The smell of old beer, must, and disappointment assaulted the zabrak’s nasal cavities.

“Whiskey. Neat.” Maul ordered the blue Twi’lek at the bar. She eyed Maul suspiciously and slowly made his drink and slid it down the bar to him. He took out a few credits and dropped them on the bar as he walked away to find a place to sit.

Maul limped to the back of the bar to sit in a small table by himself in the shadows. A light skinned bearded man with a brown cowboy hat, brown poncho, tan shirt and pants burst through the saloon doors, drawing the attention of most people in the saloon with his dramatic entrance. He walked up to a rodian at the bar and they had a quiet conversation, the rodian clearly uncomfortable by the man’s presence. In a flash, the rodian’s head slid off his body as a beam of blue light cut through his flesh. The man was wielding a lightsaber and the show stopping stunt had all but silenced the bar as the patrons all looked on in horror and shock.

“Jedi scum.” Maul growled quietly to himself.

The man having everyone’s attention, now spoke to the crowd.

“Greetings. I am Kenobi, a warrant officer in 3 systems and a licensed Jedi Peace Officer in 10. This rodian was a wanted criminal,” he held up a worn piece of paper with the rodian’s likeness on it. Maul squinted his bloodshot amber eyes at the man and slowly recognized who he said he was. It had been almost ten years and he almost didn’t recognize his old nemesis.

“Jedi. I have been waiting for you,” Maul spoke in a deep commanding voice as he stood and walked over to the man.

“I’m not sure I’ve made your acquaintance.” Kenobi said, barely acknowledging the zabrak.

“I am surprised you could have forgotten me so easily after I killed your boss and you left me for dead on Naboo.” Maul spat out at him.

“It is you.” Kenobi replied in astonishment now looking directly at Maul.

“You may have forgotten me, but I will NEVER forget you.” Maul bared his teeth practically growling at Kenobi, before he stopped in his tracks, hand hovering over his holstered gun. Kenobi stared into Maul’s bloodshot amber eyes with his own ice blue eyes studying the movements of the zabrak.

“I have defeated you before and I can defeat you again!” Kenobi declared, his hand on his lightsaber hilt. Kenobi ignited the lightsaber as Maul drew his gun and took several shots, Kenobi blocking each one with fast as lightning reflexes. Several patrons yelled in terror at the commotion, but the dueling men paid no mind.

“I almost didn’t recognize you, but you’re still half the man in my eyes.” Kenobi leered at the zabrak. At once, Maul jumped towards Kenobi, firing his revolver until he was out of bullets. The Jedi grabbed the zabrak mid air and threw him to the ground, straddled his chest and held his lightsaber to his neck. Maul hissed and Kenobi put his full weight on the zabrak and turned his lightsaber off. To everyone’s shock and amazement, especially Maul’s, Kenobi began laughing hysterically.

“Can I buy you a drink, old friend?” Kenobi stood up over Maul, extending his hand to help the zabrak up.

“You realize I still hate you with every fiber of my being.” Maul snarled at Kenobi as he rose back to his feet.

“Ah yes, ever dramatic as always.” Kenobi replied, putting his hand on Maul’s back and leading him to the bar. Maul growled quietly and drank with the Jedi despite his distaste for the devilishly handsome man.

“Excuse me are you bounty hunters?” a strong feminine voice rang out from behind them. Both men turned to look at the short slender human woman speaking to them. Her brown hair was pulled back into a braided bun and she wore a plain light blue dress that hugged her torso in a worn-in way.

“No, we are not for hire. Move along.” Kenobi brushed off the woman.

“I have money. It’s everything I have.” the woman pleaded her brown eyes searching both men for some acknowledgement.

“It’s not enough.” Maul grumbled and turned back to his drink.

“I’m willing to give you everything I have. Don’t you want to at least hear what the job is?” the woman rang out attempting to appeal to the two rugged men.

“There’s a village. Not far from here. Peaceful folk. Moisture farmers, just trying to get by. The Hutts are trying to take our land out from under us. Killing innocent men, women, and children in cold blood in the streets.” she stated firmly, throwing a satchel into Kenobi’s hands. He opened it and peeked inside at the credits.

“Miss, you don’t need a bounty hunter. You need an army.” Kenobi responded as he threw the bag back into the woman’s arms.

“Missus. My husband was shot dead in the street by Jabba along with several other innocent civilians.”

“So it is revenge you seek?” Maul inquired piqued with interest now.

“I seek righteousness as should we all, but I’ll take revenge.” she responded cool and stern.

“The Hutts you say?” Kenobi perked up a bit, “What’s your name Missus?”

“I’m Jade Abernathy.”

“How many folks are still at your village?” Kenobi inquired, leaning back onto the bar with his arms crossed.

“60 or so. These folks are farmers. Not fighters.” she clarified.

“And how long until Jabba returns to your village?” Maul questioned.

“He said he’d be back in 3 weeks 8 days ago.” Jade stared at them both as she spoke. Maul let out a chuckle and downed a shot of whiskey.

“Well we best get started then.” Kenobi declared. Maul almost spit out his drink at this declaration. Kenobi slapped his back,

“Relax, old friend. We will recruit some help along the way.”

“I am NOT your friend.” Maul shot back with a glare.

The next day the 3 of them rode towards a settlement to which Kenobi was privy, where an old friend would be camped out. They came up to an old sand hut and each dismounted their horses to have a look around. The smell inside the hut was putrefying and large flii buzzed around, fat from whatever death they’d been feeding on. Jade walked into a room where a decomposing body of a tusken raider slumped on the floor. She covered her face and ran out of the room gagging. A figure of a man appeared from the darkness of the hut.

“He was dead before I got here.” a deep booming voice reached out from the shadows.

“Mace is that you?” Kenobi questioned walking further into the room to try and see.

“Obi Wan?” The strange man stepped forward into the dim light. He was a tall, bald, dark skinned man wearing a tan shirt, brown vest and brown pants. The two men embraced without thought of the decomposing body next to them.

“How did you find me?” Mace questioned Kenobi.

“I acquired a tip at Mos Eisley.” the jubilant Kenobi responded. Maul stood back and rolled his eyes at the reunion.

“Jedi scum,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What’s the job?” Mace stepped back, taking a serious tone.

“Going against the Hutts to help out a farming community. Paying us everything they got.” Kenobi replied matter-of-factly.

“What are our odds?”

“It’s suicide.”

The team of three plus Jade made their way now to recruit their next team member. Another friend of Kenobi’s, who went by the name of Anakin. They entered into a small town, where a congregation of people surrounded a young togruta woman giving a show throwing knives at burlap sack dummies. She had orange skin with white markings on her face, blue and white Lekku instead of hair, and wore a maroon vest and pants. A drunk kel dor man stepped out into the area where the togruta woman was performing.

“Yes, you can hit a dummy. Where’s the real show? Hit something live.” he slurred and stumbled towards the togruta.

“Keep talking and I’ll show everyone how easy it is to take someone down.” she threatened.

“oooh I’m sure they’d all love to see it!” he declared raising his arms in a mocking gesture turning his back to her to try and gain favor from the crowd. The togruta reached for the knives stowed at her back and threw them with clean precision into the kel dor’s back immediately taking him down into a pathetic slump. The crowd gasped and cheered.

A man dressed in all black, a scar running down his fair skinned face over one eye, walked around to the crowd with a hat extended taking payment for the show.

“Anakin?” Kenobi asked as the black clad man made his way around to them.

“KENOBI?!!” the man’s blue eyes lit up and reached out to hug Kenobi, nearly spilling his hat of money, “What are you doing here? How’d you find me?”

“Well we are recruiting for a job. Who is your companion? I’m surprised to see you relinquish yourself to the sidelines like this.” Kenobi asked with a concerned look on his face.

“Oh that’s Snips, er Ahsoka. She saved my life. And I help her navigate the wild terrain of Tatooine. She goes anywhere I go.” Anakin explained.

“Well we’d be happy to have you both. We’ll need both of your skills for this job.” Kenobi smiled.

They camped out that night outside the small town where they found Anakin and Ahsoka. The night air was crisp and cool, insects buzzing while Mace built a small campfire. Maul laid out his makeshift version of a bed and propped himself up to attempt resting. Kenobi walked over to his spot and sat down next to Maul.

“I already question why I have agreed to work with the likes of you. Do not try to make it worse with meaningless banter.” Maul scoffed barely looking over at Kenobi.

“I mean no harm. I only wish to bury our past and attempt to start over.” Kenobi spoke softly and sincerely.

“Start over?” Maul ridiculed, “are you going to grow my legs back? Am I to bring Qui Gon back from the dead? We have a past Kenobi. We will never have a future. And I mean never.”

“Such a Sith.” Obi Wan laughed, “it doesn’t need to be like this. We both did what we needed to survive at the time. The war is over. Let it go.” he started to stand as he spoke and walked away from Maul, who growled at the Jedi.

“You are such a pain in my ass.” Kenobi finished while shaking his head and walking to the other side of the campfire. Maul’s eyebrow ridges furrowed in anger as he stared at the dancing firelight in front of him. His body filled with rage and wanted nothing more than to kill the despicable Jedi, consequences be damned. He could not bring himself to do it, frozen to his small patch of desert. He hated the Jedi. He hated Kenobi more than anything. Yet, he respected the Jedi’s skills and combat techniques. The handsome and charming Jedi somehow infiltrated his way into Maul’s impermeable heart and that was what really drove him mad.

Jade sat to the side of both of them and watched the whole thing go down curiously. She gnawed on a dried piece of meat, before finally lying down on the hard rocky terrain to attempt getting some rest. The fire crackled and the soft hum of voices around the fire slowly died down as everyone decided to get some rest. Obi Wan took the first watch of the night, sitting atop a ledge and looking out into the darkness.

They packed up their belongings at first light to set out to find another old acquaintance of Obi Wan’s. Jade rode next to Maul and asked him about the Sith.

“Why don’t the Sith like Jedis? It seems like ya’ll are pretty similar.” she asked innocently enough, but it made Maul gnash his teeth together before responding.

“We are nothing alike. Jedi are fools and liars. They brainwash everyone into admiring them, and for what? For the power they claim they do not desire.” He scowled and spat the words out in his deep theatrical voice. Anakin over hearing this, let out a big laugh and Maul whipped his head around to glare at the smiling young man.

“I would be careful to make too much noise, Anakin.” Maul shot back at him and looked over to Jade, “This man took out an entire tribe of Tusken Raiders.”

“They were enslaving good folks, I did what I had to do to bring justice.” Anakin shouted back.

“There were innocent women and children that died at your hand. Was that for the good of everyone? Justice is merely the construct of the current power base.” Maul’s response was cut short by Obi Wan stopping the team with a fist up in the air.

“We are being followed.” Kenobi voiced quietly while everyone reached for their weapons. They were on a path surrounded by tall rock ridges on either side of them, everyone’s eyes darting around to watch for who was following them. A slender bald pale woman walked out beyond an outcropping guiding her horse on the rocky terrain. She carried a bow and arrow, wore tattered black and red form fitting clothes and had tattoos around her eyes and mouth.

“Quite a mix of strays I see.” She declared as she sauntered over, all eyes on her.

“Ventress,” Kenobi almost sighed out the words, “What are you doing out here?”

“I should ask the lot of you the same thing.” she suggested as she looked around at everyone.

“We are on a mission to drive the Hutts out of a peaceful farming community. Care to join?” Obi Wan asked the pale woman.

“Like you even had to ask.” she smirked.

“When did you become one of the good guys?” Kenobi questioned with a look of surprise on his face.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Kenobi. I’ll take any chance I can get at tormenting you.” she winked and mounted her horse now next to Kenobi. He rolled his eyes and they rode on down the dusty path.

They arrived at an old hut tucked away off the trail and Kenobi dismounted his horse to walk up to the two Jawas milling about outside the front door. They had a short conversation in Jawaese.

“You killed the old man who lived here?!” Kenobi asked them in astonishment. Suddenly, a green lightsaber flew through the air at the 2 jawas, cutting them down where they stood and then flying back into the hand of a short wrinkled green creature wearing torn furs and leathers.

“Left me for dead, those two Jawas did.” The old creature announced as he slowly walked towards Kenobi, dried blood covering the side of his face.

“Yoda, we are assembling a crew to take down the Hutts.” Kenobi cut to the chase and explained the mission to the small wizened creature.

Once Yoda was on board, they planned their initial attack into the town. Jabba was not currently there, but he had several of his cronies watching over the town so they’d need to carefully infiltrate at first. Then it would be a matter of days to train everyone there to fight back once Jabba did show up. The dangerous appeal of the mission was now starting to set into feelings of daunt and apprehension for everyone.

The team rode toward the town with everyone’s mind full of what their mission was as soon as they got there. It was late afternoon and the suns blazed onto the team of misfits. The air was arid and smelled of horses and nervous body odor. Kenobi and Maul rode side by side leading the group. Much to Maul’s bedevilment, as his body and face tensed up at the Jedi’s presence next to him.

“Kenobi.” Maul acknowledged him finally through grit teeth.

“Maul, don’t you think this is childish to still hold onto such a grudge?” Kenobi scrutinized the zabrak.

“I am unlike you foolish Jedi, sequestering your emotions. I was cast aside, I was forgotten, but I survived. Fueled by my singular hatred for you. ” Maul snarled at the Jedi.

“And yet here you are tagging along with us; some former and current Jedis and me, the bane of your existence.” Kenobi pointed out.

“I have my reasons.” he quietly retorted back and they rode on in silence for some time.

As they neared the town, the team split up and everyone besides Obi Wan took the back way into town led by Jade who knew the shortcuts and where Jabba’s infiltrators would not be monitoring. Obi Wan rode his horse directly into the town, it felt like a ghost town. Windows shuttered and barely anyone out and about. Finally, he reached the main drag and several armed beings; humans, twi’leks, and many gamorreans stood in a line on the street. The tall blue twi’lek spoke first,

“We don’t allow weapons in town. Check them in and we’ll return them after you leave.” he stretched his hand out, his long nails glinting in the sunlight.

“Of course. I wonder why it is such fine folks as you should be armed to the teeth when no one else is?” he asked as he reached for his lightsaber to hand over.

“We are this town’s protection against any outside force that wishes to bring harm to these townspeople.” the twi’lek responded looking agitated and spitting out a wad of tobacco as he finished. Obi Wan saw Ventress signal to him from on top of the building behind the men without letting them see his acknowledgement.

“That is not the story I am told. And not the story my friends believe.” Kenobi looked past the line of armed beings and they all slowly turned around to see they were surrounded. Kenobi ignited his lightsaber and cut down the twi’lek while Ventress shot several more from the rooftop with her bow and arrow. More Gamorrean guards rushed out into the street at hearing the commotion. Mace and Anakin shot several down narrowly missing getting shot themselves by a couple guards coming in from the sides. Ahsoka threw her knives at the guards in an instant hitting them in the throats and killing them on impact. Yoda and Maul stood on opposite sides of the street taking down the rest of the guards with calculated precision. As fast as it started, it was over, the warm air overcome with gunpowder, blood, and smoke.

Jade rode in on her horse, yelling for the townsfolk to come out of hiding.

“Everyone! Come out! They are here to help us!” her voice rang out as she rode her galloping horse through town. The townsfolk cautiously came out of hiding, looking around like scurriers expecting to see a rancor or other predator. Kenobi started to walk towards the congregation of people forming when he sensed a hidden Gamorrean under the wooden stairs to the bank building. He reached down and forcefully grabbed the Gamorrean by the arm to drag him out of hiding.

“You work for Jabba?” Kenobi shook the gamorrean in his hands and he squealed in response.

“You tell your boss if he wants this town, come see me. Tell him Kenobi sent you.” He instructed the Gamorrean who grunted in response and ran off with a squeal.

“These folks have assembled to help our town.” Jade’s voice rang out to the small crowd.

“The Hutts will be back in two weeks. How can we go up against them? We are simple farmers not warriors.” a distressed voice called out from the crowd.

“We are going to train you. Sleep well tonight. It may be the last good sleep you’ll see for awhile.” Kenobi answered the disembodied voice and a murmur of nervous voices rose in the air like steam.

The townspeople assembled at dawn to start training with the team of strange warriors. Kenobi had asked them to bring all their weapons and while many showed up wielding guns, axes, and knives, some only carried shovels.

“Oh good they brought shovels. I was worried about our chances otherwise.” Maul snarked at Kenobi, who tried to ignore the zabrak, but had to turn his head and hide his soft chuckle at the jeer.

The days were split up into different lessons. Tactical planning with Kenobi, short range shooting with Anakin and Mace, long range shooting with Maul, bomb building With Yoda, bow and arrow lessons with Ventress, and finally knife wielding with Ahsoka.

The days were long and grueling. The townsfolk were not lying about not being fighters. Everyone’s patience was thin, but Kenobi couldn’t help but notice Maul’s steadfastness with the townsfolk. He was patient and kind, but not afraid to motivate them through controlled aggression.

“You have to hate what you’re shooting at!” Maul yelled out behind the line of townsfolk armed to shoot dummies.

“Maul you have quite the knack for this.” Kenobi later remarked to the zabrak.

“A knack for survival? Yes. I care nothing for these simple minded people. You must know that about me by now.” he scoffed.

“Yes, I think I am getting to know you quite well.” Kenobi raised an eyebrow and moseyed away. Maul’s already hot internal temperature went up and he felt flushed and frustrated from the small interaction.

The week went by in a flash. a day like any other, Mace rode back to town after his watch to alert everyone the Hutts were a few hours away. It was go-time. The children and others unable to fight were hidden in the basement of the general store. The shovels had proven useful after all and many of the fighters hid in trenches that had been dug to camouflage their location. There were mines and bombs set along the path to town to take down as many of the Hutt soldiers as possible before they were able to enter town. Ventress and anyone who excelled at bow and arrow or Maul’s long range shooting course were perched atop different buildings in town.

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. Kenobi swallowed his spit and it ran slowly down his esophagus seemingly snowballing into a hardened knot of anxiety until it settled into his empty stomach like a stone. He pulled the brim of his hat down to shade his face from the sun, and looked over at Maul. The zabrak’s golden eyes soothed him in an unexpected way, a calmness washing over him like drinking a warm shot of whiskey. A little intoxicating, but just the one did not dull him too much to think and respond clearly.

Maul nodded at Kenobi as he rode Scimitar down to the trenches, a smile creeping along his face for no one to see. He thrived in the chaos and sensing Kenobi’s nervous energy brought him a small amount of joy. He checked in with the trenches and made sure they understood their directions and to wait for the signal.

Jabba and his soldiers stood off in the horizon. Even from a great distance one could see the enormous slug-like nature of Jabba, laid out onto a big floating sled. He gave the signal and a line of soldiers on horseback ran towards the town.

“Steady, Steady.” Yoda’s voice rang out into the trenches. At last, Yoda gave the signal and shots were fired at the incoming soldiers. Once they reached the marked line of bombs Yoda pressed the lever and a giant boom deafened everyone. Horses and soldiers flew into the air in a cloud of dust and body parts. The survivors broke through the dust and ran forward into town. There was no time for anyone to think. Bullets whizzed past ears and into body parts. More bombs were set off taking down several clusters of soldiers at once.

The surviving soldiers made it into town, firefights ensuing all around. Ventress and the others on top of the building taking down soldier after soldier from their vantage point. Mace, Anakin, and Ahsoka all on foot on the street below shooting down anyone in sight. Kenobi and Maul, still on horseback, rode through the town shooting down their assailants at every chance they got. Yoda and the others from the trenches ran back into town to keep fighting as well.

If there had been only one or two waves of soldiers from Jabba, things would have been looking pretty good. Unfortunately, someone as rich as Jabba had an endless resource for anything they desired in life, including soldiers and weapons. More and more soldiers descended onto the small town. Already, many townsfolk had sacrificed their life for the cause. The foul stench of death and direness infiltrated the air of the town, quickly taken over by the smell of fire.

The General Store was set ablaze and the children were all trapped under the building. Without thinking, Maul shot his way through to the store. Inside, smoke filled his lungs and burned his eyes. The trap door to the basement had a burning beam on top of it, trapping anyone underneath it. A swift, force-ful kick and the beam was slid across the floor. Maul crouched down to lift the door and help pull up the children out of the basement. Jade had now made her way to the store to help and her and Maul led the children and others to safety outside of the burning building. They shot down several soldiers on their way as they protected their helpless herd.

Once the children were safe with Jade, Maul mounted Scimitar and rode over to Kenobi.

“We have to take down Jabba. These soldiers only fight because he pays them, if he is gone they stop fighting.” Maul did not even let Kenobi respond as he reached down and grabbed a stack of TNT from the stockpile, and galloped off on his horse.

“Maul, wait!” Kenobi finally yelled after the zabrak, now disappearing into a cloud of dust.

“You chaotic ass!” Kenobi huffed and rode after Maul. As far as Kenobi could tell, Maul’s mission was suicide and he rode to catch up with an urgency never quite felt before. His jaw was clenched, hands formed tight fists around his horse’s reins, and heels dug into the sides of his horse signaling the beast to go FAST.

Maul already had practically made it to Jabba and narrowly avoided being shot too many times to count. The bullets whistled past his ears but he was running on too much adrenaline to be stopped. He dismounted Scimitar about 50 meters from where Jabba lay out on his sled surrounded by his fiercest guards.

Maul held his hands up in the air in an act of surrender, and slowly walked towards the evil slug. Before he got halfway there, one of the overzealous guards shot Maul in the stomach. The impact of the shot stopped him in his tracks and he fell down to his knees in shock clutching his stomach. He pushed the pain aside to stick a cigarette in his mouth and fumbled with his matches. His hands wet with blood and sweat and shaking found it impossible to light the damned cigarette. Several guns were still pointed at him, but Jabba instructed them to hold off, and one of the guards was sent to light his cigarette for him as Jabba laughed at this foolish zabrak dying in front of their eyes.

Once Maul got his cigarette lit, a feverish smile curved his lips. He reached for the dynamite strapped to his back and fell face down ass up into the ground. The guards all laughed at his death and turned away from the pathetic slump of a corpse. Maul sensed when they weren’t looking, lit the end of the dynamite fuse, and threw it at Jabba’s sled before anyone had time to register what was happening.

As soon as the dynamite left his hand Maul was ripped off the ground and on top of a horse fiercely galloping away. The explosion set off narrowly behind them deafening them both.

The fight was over. The remainder of the guards and soldiers left alive ran off now that Jabba had been destroyed in the explosion. Kenobi slowed his horse’s pace and eventually stopped to assess the situation of Maul’s injuries. He gently carried Maul off the horse and into a soft patch of dried grass. Blood was spilling out of the zabrak’s midsection at an alarming rate. Kenobi ripped his shirt off to apply pressure to the wound. Maul groaned fighting off the urge to pass out from the pain and exhaustion.

“You almost got yourself killed, you fool.” Kenobi exasperated holding down on the wound.

“You know first hand how hard it is to kill me.” Maul coughed out.

“Yes, very well, you are incredibly lucky to have survived that just now.”

“Of course I survived.” Maul reached up to touch Kenobi’s face tenderly. Kenobi took his hand in his own and pressed it into his face, blood dripping down from his hand, his eyes filled with tears.

And so they saved the little town. Jade Abernathy gave them all the payment as promised and they stayed to help clean up the town and give burials to those lost in the battle. Kenobi never left Maul’s side as he recovered in the small doctor’s office in town. Eventually, the rest of the team headed out for their own separate next adventures.

Maul slipped in and out of consciousness for several days. Kenobi figured it was the first time the zabrak had actually rested in his whole troubled life. Eventually, Maul’s strength was enough to fully wake up. He immediately saw Kenobi in the corner of the room napping. Kenobi was sitting in a wooden chair, his legs propped up on a footstool and his hat covering his face.

“Kenobi!” Maul growled. The cowboy in the corner of the room slowly reached up for his hat and a relieved grin spread across his handsome face.

“Maul, I am so happy to see you have your strength back enough to be angry again!” Kenobi laughed.

Maul got out of the small bed and limped over to Kenobi with a menacing look. Kenobi stood tall to meet Maul’s fiery amber eyes attempting to cut through his watery blue gaze. Maul, now close enough to touch Kenobi, slowly leaned in to kiss Kenobi on the lips. Initially, Kenobi slightly flinched so taken aback by the act of affection. He couldn’t help the swelling of his heart, wrapped his arms around Maul’s waist and passionately kissed him back. The moment so pure and beautiful, Kenobi finally softly pushed Maul back.

“Maul, I care deeply for you. But you have got to brush your teeth.”

-.-.-.-.--.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

once again thankee sai for reading my humble writing! Please do leave a comment or heart, it warms my soul.

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