The question echoes in the air, leaving harsh afterthoughts as it’s met with nothing but silence.
He stares at you, the blush on his cheeks rising until his entire face is red. You could’ve sworn the colour mixed with his bright blue eyes, leaving a lilac shade in it’s place.
You didn’t know what to do. The two of you were so close, bodies pressing together firmly. The walls around you both were unforgiving and provided little space. Daryl felt uncomfortable, just as he would with anyone else.
But with you, it was moe than the sensation of pressure on his chest, it was the tingles where his stomach was. The flips it was making. Then the fall as those four words slipped your lips.
He’s quiet when he asks, “Wha’?” – thinking he misheard you.
“Can I kiss you?” You repeat, lacking the confidence you held the first time.
The torture repeats itself. But this time, instead of complete silence, you hear the shuffling of walkers moving past your hiding spot. You glance to the side, but Daryl only stares at you.
More time passes, and as you’re about to move, you whisper, “I think the coast is clear.” You don’t mention the question, hoping he could just forget your spur of the moment action.
“Ya.” He mumbles. His voice is the softest you’ve ever heard it be.
You look to him, slightly confused, “Yeah?”
At first, he doesn’t respond. You both hold eye-contact, but slowly he begins closing the few inches of space between your faces.
These will be my own interpretations of each of the main four. Since these are gonna take a while I may as well separate them into individual posts by character. Besides they’re easier on people’s dashes this way.
Extroverted – (”I like getting my energy from active involvement in events and having a lot of different activities. I’m excited when I’m around people and I like to energize other people. I like moving into action and making things happen.”)
While Stan has numerous moments where he’s withdrawn he makes it pretty clear that he likes being the center of attention. Even if he’s not a hyperactive social butterfly as the stereotype of extroverts goes, he definitely loves being the cool kid and having a large reach of friends. He might not seek it out all the time, but he definitely loves to impress people.
Literally when anyone gives the slightest bit of approval he has a 50% chance of making a movie, commercial or presentation about it.
This kind of approval will make him leap before he looks, often regretting it soon after.
He also tends to follow the crowd even if he doesn’t really want to and often doesn’t know why he’s doing what he’s doing as a result of that. This leads to him contradicting himself either intentionally or unintentionally and then being very dejected afterward.
Sensing – (”
Paying attention to physical reality, what I see, hear, touch, taste, and smell. I’m concerned with what is actual, present, current, and real. I notice facts and I remember details that are important to me. I like to see the practical use of things and learn best when I see how to use what I’m learning. Experience speaks to me louder than words.”)
This directly ties in with Stan’s cynicism. He is constantly critical of anything and everything and is the first, if not second to Kyle, to call something out for what it objectively is.
This is what grounds Kyle, a potential idealist, back to reality.
When Kyle saw one cold reading that insisted his dead grandma wanted him to go to Juilliard, Stan did some investigating, whipped out some books and went out of his way to convince Kyle to snap out of it and see the situation for what it really was.
When Kyle came to him with stars in his eyes about his great new business, Stan was skeptical. Kyle knew by instinct that Stan, the objective thinker would be just as hype about it if he just saw it with his own eyes. The video of two deformed babies struggling to grab a ball of crack, along with Stan’s “I don’t need to say anything. Listen to yourself.” approach broke Kyle’s illusion because it was so painfully objective.
When Kyle was believed he was being a martyr for the middle east, Stan looked at him and said “You’re just sucking farts and being all high and mighty about it.”
He’s always the first to call something out for being stupid.
Stan thinks in facts, not in ideas. What is, not what might be or what it could mean. Even when he’s caught up in his friends fantasies, which he does enjoy, he is usually the first to stop and call it stupid. This puts a great balance in his group, considering when he’s not caught up in his own ego, he provides solid ground for his friends.
Feeling – (”I believe I can make the best decisions by weighing what people care about and the points-of-view of persons involved in a situation.”)
Despite clearly having an ego, when Stan is faced with a situation where he has to conserve something he deeply cares about, his ego generally doesn’t get in the way. Most of Stan’s calls to action are either because of ego or purely out of sympathy.
Like hijacking a TV show and doing blatantly illegal acts of violence for the sake of saving whales. Or kidnapping a bunch of baby cows so they don’t get turned into veal. Or writing a hit song or tricking one of his friend’s to get an operation, both to save his best friend’s life. Also trying to do the right thing and turn himself in because he felt guilty about ruining people’s lives.
Stan unfortunately isn’t that in tune with other people’s feelings, but this doesn’t mean he’s not empathetic. He just gets really caught up in whatever’s in front of him and ends up hurting people in the process.
Despite his lack of malice, this happens frequently. He doesn’t mean to fuck up, but he does. His conflicting objective thinking, ego and emotional decision making constantly fucks him over. His peers abandon him, and his biggest support is gone. This quickly goes in a downward spiral and ends with Stan beating himself up about it.
Percieving – (”
I use my perceiving function ((whether it is Sensing or Intuition)) in my outer life. To others, I seem to prefer a flexible and spontaneous way of life, and I like to understand and adapt to the world rather than organize it. Others see me staying open to new experiences and information.”)
Percieving personalities are very flexible, but they also often don’t plan ahead.
This is already evident in Stan in the form of lack of control. His biggest conflict is prone to repeating itself time and time again. He doesn’t plan or prepare to avoid letting himself crash and burn, and in turn has no idea what he should do when the situation arises again except in that moment try a slightly new approach, but by that time, he is so caught up in the emotion of the situation that little to nothing changes.
However, Stan does get the good in the perceiving category as well. While he does tend to fuck up a lot, if he still has friends around who are encouraging him to do something new (most of the time) he will roll with it (provided his Extraverted Thinking doesn’t make him a total stick in the mud.)
The double edged sword to this is when he’s down in the dumps he’s more prone to trying new, addictive things like drinking and freemium games. But hey, anything for a change of scenery. This kind of flexibility is also what allows him to jump into new ambitious things that his ambitious friends might scheme up–
–like abandoning his subpar relationship for the sake of getting successful and being dripping in bitches.
In summary Stan’s traits seem to be very tightly knit together in all his actions. He loves to impress and entertain anyone he comes across, but is also cynical and gets caught up in what he’s doing and loses what he values most in the process. Despite this, he does have a tendency to maintain his confidence and stick with his true friends.
I request a oviposition and egg laying story, plus the character who
impregnated with the reader(idk) is Jasper from steven universe
you’ve been wandering the desert for days when you finally see
something a canyon filled with holes and a with a big blue gemstone in
the middle. You see a orange person with a heavily swollen belly. You
pass out. When you come to you see that you’re in one of the holes you
saw earlier covered by metal bars. You realize that you’re naked the.
Orange person you saw earlier rips open the bars.
“I’ve been waiting for this I’ve been unable to lay my eggs and continue
my quest. But now that I found you I can finally continue.” Her
clothing disappears and a tentacle comes out of her folds it wraps
around you and inserts her tentacle into your vagina and another into
your mouth which pumps warm liquid. While the one in your vagina starts
swelling in a round way. The lump moves to your folds and starts to push
inside of you it hurts so much but it feels really good at the same
time when it’s finally done you breathe a sigh of relief. But then you
realize the orange lady still has a bulge. Oh no. Another bulge starts
coming down the tentacle larger this time. This process repeats itself
several times until you’re stretched well beyond what you thought your
limit was she finally finishes. She withdraws her tentacles and fazes
her clothing back on. “You’ll be here for a while so make yourself
comfy” you fall asleep.
What is a ghost? A tragedy condemned to repeat itself time and again? An
instant of pain, perhaps. Something dead which still seems to be alive.
An emotion suspended in time. Like a blurred photograph. Like an insect
trapped in amber.
The Devil’s Backbone (2001) dir. Guillermo del Toro
What is a ghost? A tragedy condemned to repeat itself time and again? An instant of pain, perhaps. Something dead which still seems to be alive. An emotion suspended in time. Like a blurred photograph. Like an insect trapped in amber. A ghost is me.
The Devil’s Backbone (2001), dir.
Guillermo del Toro
The Castle hasn’t felt so cold since she first found out her father was dead. The loss of the Red Paladin to the one calling himself Kuro has leeched the life from the walls as surely as the open vacuum of space. Her paladins walk the corridors like ghosts, what few jokes the Blue Paladin attempts to raise spirits die before a single laugh can be heard. Coran is the only one who seems unaffected. Flitting here and there to attend to his normal duties, stopping only to make sure she eats and sleeps. She’s beginning to suspect that his happy face might be less related to his true feelings and more to do with assuring herself and the other younger residents of the Castle that things will be okay. She wishes she could believe that.
A bright red ping alerts her that Pidge’s program has found another signal. They had taken far too long to pick up on Kuro’s last message, and by the time they arrived at the originating station, the trail had been cold.
She doesn’t want to open the message at all. The images from the last are still haunting her dreams, but she needs too. She needs to ascertain their content on her own. She must be strong. She cannot hand this duty off to others. The last time the Black Paladin had rewatched what they’d been sent so many times it should count as a form of self-torture. Seeing a friend destroy themselves was nearly as bad as what Kuro was doing.
“Are you going to open it?” A familiar voice says from behind her. Allura startles, she had not realized Shiro was on the bridge.
She closes down the program, and turns to face him, “You shouldn’t be here,” She says, she doesn’t mean this room, but watching over her shoulder. Looking to see more of what they all agreed he shouldn’t.
Shiro doesn’t need clarification, “I need to know,” He says softly, almost pleading with her.
“It won’t do any good,” She tries to reason with him. Only one person needs to make sure there isn’t any clues on the tape. There is no need to share the pain.
“Allura, please, I can’t not know.” Shiro begs, the look in his eyes break her heart, and she knows, she’s already lost. She can’t deny someone the knowledge of the fate of their loved ones.
“Once, you can watch them once, with me. No more, not again.” She will delete them off the computer, before she allows what happened last time to repeat itself.
“Okay,” Shiro agrees.
“He’s lying!” The things Kuro said about Shiro’s feelings for Keith, they weren’t true. He loved him, he’d always loved him, “It’s not true. None of what he’s saying is true,” He turns to Allura, tries to make her understand, he’s not like that, not to Keith, but he can see the doubt in her eyes. She doesn’t believe him. Who could, after seeing something like that?
“So the words about your first time, were false? He doesn’t have your memories?” She asks slowly.
“No, that really happened,” It had been one of his treasured memories, “But the other things, that is not how I feel. He’s lying to Keith,” He emphasizes.
“I see,” She says simply. She thinks he’s lying.
Lance wants to look away from the screen. He’s never seen Keith cry over something emotional before. He didn’t think the guy could cry over something someone said to him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know that this was the kind of thing it took to break the guy, but Pidge was counting on him. She needed to know what was happening to a member of their found family, but after that bath, she couldn’t bare to watch it herself.
He can understand. He fully admits that when she’d slammed the computer shut before Keith had even lost his underwear, he’d thought that video was going in a much worse direction too. If Pidge needs to know but can’t stand to see what happens herself, he could do that for her. At least it let him help someone on this ship.
Pidge’s vision blurs a bit at the corners. She blinks the tears away furiously. She’s not going to cry. She’s not a little kid. She’s not helpless. She found the location of the latest electronic package, and now she’s going to finish the wiring on her and Hunk’s decloaking device, because she does something about her problems.
She’s not scared they are going to lose Keith, because they aren’t going to lose Keith. They’re going to fly to the station she found. They’re going to deploy this machine. Then they’re going to spot Kuro’s vessel, when his cloak fails, and rescue Keith. Everything will be fine, because it’s going to happen that way. It has to happen that way. She has to believe that.
Hunk’s not even sure what he’s making anymore. He’s not sure if it will be edible or even taste good, but it keeps his hands busy and his mind some semblance of occupied. He needs that right now. He’s already done everything he can to help. He helped design and build that machine with Pidge, but his part is done. Now all he’d be able to do is hover over her shoulder and worry. He can’t do that. He’d drive himself insane, thinking about things in a never ending loop.
So he bakes food he never plans to eat, and tries to tune out Lance’s quiet reports on the videos to Pidge. He’s grateful they are working at the kitchen table. He wants to be alone right now even less than he want to stop doing something, but he doesn’t want to hear whats happening to Keith. He’s probably the only person in the castle who hasn’t watched and obsessed over ever single second they’ve received, but he won’t do that to himself. He knows that they contain nothing good, and that his friend isn’t going to be okay when he sees him next. That’s all he needs to know.
I literally just had this in my head while I was getting ready for uni but hoooooly the revelation just made me laugh. Veruca's mother in the hair salon scene HONESTLY reminds me of Trish in a sense. She's got this soft but dignified kind of attitude and it's lovely. And I'm thinking that one of the reason why Ruca was affectionate with Olly because he's kinda like her dad. Did Ruca by chance dislike her mom throughout the years?
:| !!! you’re the first person to notice haha! I love parallels and i love the idea that time repeats itself in some ways, AND I ALSO love the fact that we can’t escape our upbringing and that in most cases we either become our parents, get involved with someone that’s like them or try to distance our self as far away from anyone similar to them! I don’t think Veruca truly knows it but the fact that Trish is so much like her mother makes her hate her more, Val and Trish both come from money, they both had jobs involved in the arts they both are “good girls that got involved with bad boys”. Veruca and her mother have a love hate relationship. Veruca resents her mother for leaving her father and moving on. She sees her mother as weak and disloyal. She saw how much her mothers decisions hurt her father who is her favorite person in the world, Olly is one of her favorite people too. Deep in her mind she probably thinks Trish is just having fun for now and that she will hurt her dumb Olly. as tough as he tries to be around their friends she knows Oliver is really sensitive and if that is the case it would crush him and that pisses her off + she want’s her fuckin boyfriend back haha so she dislikes Trish either way
What is a ghost? A tragedy condemned to repeat itself time and again? An instant of pain, perhaps. Something dead which still seems to be alive. An emotion suspended in time. Like a blurred photograph. Like an insect trapped in amber. A ghost is me.
EL ESPINAZO DEL DIABLO (The Devil’s Backbone) 2001, dir. Guillermo del Toro.
Kalagang one-shot: The girl who was free and the in-between boy
Kala noticed the handsome white man before Devi had pointed him out, rather excitedly, she might add. His hair was as light as hers dark and was as short and neat as hers was long and unruly. His eyes were blue in a way she couldn’t seem to understand and she often found herself wanting to and then, wondering why she wanted to.
He always sat at the same table in her father’s restaurant and always ordered the same thing. Garlic Naan and tandoori chicken. She found it rather amusing, the way his eyes teared up because the food was too spicy and the way he never drank any water despite it. Maybe he was pushing himself to his limits, trying to prove something to someone, though she couldn’t comprehend why someone would need to, especially since there was no one with him and that it was just tandoori chicken. Probably, one of ‘those men don’t cry’ things she found so abhorrently unfair and sexist. Yet, she couldn’t seem to believe in that. She shouldn’t be thinking about him so much. And yet…
He was always alone. At first, she thought that he was waiting for someone. Indians rarely ate alone. It was considered inauspicious, or rude, or something to that effect. She hadn’t bothered asking before but suddenly, she wished she had. Then at least she would know the tug at her chest every time she saw him that way. Maybe she just wasn’t used to the sight. She wanted to chalk it up a foreign culture she didn’t know about, but as the days went by and he repeatedly sat at the same table, ordering the same food, not drinking any water, not speaking to anyone, unbearably blue eyes, now a little red-rimmed, searching for nothing and no one, she just couldn’t possibly believe he was anything other than excruciatingly lonely. She shouldn’t interfere. And yet…
Wolfgang noticed the girl staring at him, unabashedly, before she started staring. It also might or might not be the reason why he was there in the first place. It rained a lot in Mumbai. Not like the rain in Berlin either. It was warm and wet, like he was stepping into a new world, not quite out of the old one yet. He was in-between. In-between houses, in-between jobs, in-between life. He didn’t know what he was doing. He’d packed up a small duffel bag of clothes, and left Berlin for Mumbai on a whim. At first, he was happy leaving his asshole father behind. He’d promised Felix he would be back soon. He just had to do something. The problem was, he had no idea what that something was. It was stupid, but he felt like he was coming to India for a higher purpose. Nothing spiritual. He didn’t believe in that sort of thing. Just something that would calm the soul. Leave him feeling like something other than the fucking mess he was. What a bunch of bullshit, that was. It had been a week since he’d arrived and nothing happened. He wasn’t exactly expecting something to happen but he was still disappointed. He liked India. It was colourful in ways Berlin wasn’t. Everything was extreme in India. The food, the music, the people. He wanted it to set him on edge. To make him feel something, do something. But he discovered, he wasn’t doing as much as watching. And he was getting lonely. Even in the shit-fest that was his life, he had Felix. Maybe he should return to Berlin. He would still be extremely mortified by the uncertainty of life, but he wouldn’t be so damn lonely.
And then, he saw her. Walking into the restaurant, hair unruly, a wild smile on her face, shaking the raindrops from her hair. She was beautiful in a way that felt like a punch to the throat. So, he kind of followed her. It sounds creepier than it was. He was actually pretty hungry and the food smelt good and it was raining pretty hard. The warm rain had lost its charm a while ago. Now he was just wet and hungry. So he ordered the same thing he’d been ordering since his arrival. He thought the food was satisfactory and he wasn’t risking anything else. The food arrived and he dug in, spying on the girl through the corner of his eye. There was something so free about her. The way she smiled without meaning to and not caring to correct it. The way she laughed louder than probably socially acceptable. She was free. He was jealous in a way. Here he was, all the way across the world and he couldn’t bring himself to laugh or even smile. Not even in the sardonic way he used to back in Berlin. So, he stuffed his face with food. It was much spicier than he’d expected. To his horror, his eyes started to tear up. He almost reached for his water but he stopped himself. It was his father’s voice in his head, telling him how weak he was being. It was so stupid, he should just drink the water. But he couldn’t bring himself to. So, he finished it all, without touching his glass of water, mouth on fire, sweat streaming down his face mixing with the tears and water. At least, he finally felt something. He still couldn’t believe he had let his father get to him like this. Never again. He planned to leave the next day and then, he hear her laugh again and it’s like a kind of music he could never hope to forget. So, he came back, the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that.
Kala found herself walking towards his table before she had time to convince herself otherwise. He looked up at her, startled. His fair eyebrows arched a little like he was expecting an explanation but she sat down, right opposite of him, offering none.
“The food isn’t that spicy today. I made it myself,” she said as Ramu Chacha placed the plates on his table. “Thanks Chacha.” She beamed at the old man, who grinned back. She looked up at the man, wide blue eyes looking slightly panicked. She almost wanted to tell him that he should have a glass of water or something, but that would be mean and he didn’t strike her as the masochistic type she thought he was. He just looked slightly embarrassed.
“We’ve been getting complaints of the food being too spicy,” she clarified even though she didn’t need to.
“Thank you for telling me, then.” His accent was clipped and clear. German, she thought. He smiled gratefully. It’s a tentative smile but it’s one that transformed his whole face and made him seem so much younger and so beautiful. It left her slightly speechless. How can one smile do that?
“Why don’t you do that more often?” She asked, trying not to be embarrassed at how breathless she sounded.
“Smile. I’ve never seen you smile.” The man seemed a little taken aback. He probably wasn’t used to such directness. But that’s how Kala always was. Direct and honest to a fault. It led to a lot of awkward situations but it cleared the air and saved a lot of time.
“Been watching me a lot, huh?” He smiled again but this time, it was mischievous. One side of his mouth was tilted upwards and his eyes glimmer in a way that sent her heart erratic. This was new and scary. But Kala couldn’t do anything if not keep up.
“Just as much as you’ve been watching me.” Kala wasn’t blind. She noticed him staring but she didn’t expect the thrill of pleasure it had given her when she first found out. She found herself grinning back at him, the same way he was. Was she flirting? It was odd to think that she even knew how to. She hadn’t done it before. But it all felt a little natural. At least with him it did.
He chuckled and Kala was surprised at how she disappointed she was when he stopped. The urge to hear it again overtook her.
And then, they were grinning at each other like a pair of idiots. Like they just shared the world’s biggest secret. There was a kind of joy in this moment. One that she hadn’t known before. She didn’t think she ever wanted the moment to end. So she talked, and she listened and he talked, and he listened and the moment went on and on, the same joy coating the air around them, making time itself, stop.
Wolfgang repeats her name again and again in his head. He loved the sound. He used her name in conversation every time he could. The two syllables roll around in his mouth, sweet and new. He was surprised, to say the least. Everything about her was magical. Her voice, the words she spoke, the way she seemed to know him. Every time she laughed he felt like she was sharing something precious with him. It was unbelievable. The closest to a spiritual awakening he was ever going to get.
“Your food’s getting cold.” She glanced down at the half-eaten chicken as he looked at it like he was just noticing it in the first place.
“The food’s delicious by the way,” he said as he took another bite. It actually was good. It was considerably less spicy and he was infinitely grateful for that. He couldn’t imagine dribbling down the nose in front of a beautiful girl like her. Although this time, he was pretty sure he would’ve just drank the goddamn water. She smiled at him like she knew exactly what he was thinking about and again he was struck by how she responded to everything he said or did. Like, she actually know how to and even more than that, like she actually wanted to.
“Speaking of food, why do you order the same thing every day? Papa gets really bored in there, you know?” He chuckled, but her face remained impassively curious.
“You know, I like it. It’s,” He paused, “safe.” He concluded. She snorted, and goddamn him, if it wasn’t the cutest thing he’d ever heard.
“You didn’t strike me as the safe type.”
“Sometime, I am. But I’m not all the time,” He voice was low and extremely suggestive. Wolfgang wasn’t a good enough person to say that he did not enjoy the way she flushed or the way skin beneath her neck turned pink.
“Well,” she finally said, recovering commendably, “that’s just downright boring.” Wolfgang couldn’t help the smile that took over his face, or the way his heart seemed too large for his chest. When was the last time he was so happy? He couldn’t recall.
“You have to try the palak paneer and the kurma and kebabs, and enough of naan, for god’s sake. Try some parathas instead. Oh! You haven’t even tried the sweets!”
“I can’t have them all in one day, can I?” Wolfgang responded, thoroughly amused. He wasn’t so amused anymore when she leaned across the table so that her eyes were level with his and so close, their breaths mingled. She smelled like mint and he was suddenly really regretting ordering the garlic naan. But their proximity was dizzying and it was hard to think of much else when he was constantly avoiding looking at her lips too long, lest the urge he had had to kiss her the entire time, becomes too strong. He couldn’t believe he was actually nervous. He was a grown man, scared of being too close to a girl he liked. And despite her confident front, she seemed just as nervous as he was.
“I guess you’d have to keep coming back, then,” She breathed as she leaned back in her seat, smiling at him hopefully.
So, maybe he was in-between houses, and jobs and life in general. But this was the one thing he could get right. The magic. The one between them. The freedom to just be. The happiness he felt and could feel again with her. The chance at life he’d always wished. The potential for something good. This was it. He had to get it right. He couldn’t bear not to. He returned the same smile, filled to the brim with hope.
A/N: This is not one of my best writings. I’m disappointed with how it turned out, but it has been a while since I’ve posted anything. I’m sorry I keep writing such sad imagines, but those usually have a nice plot to them. I promise the next one will have a nicer story line. I most likely will not be writing a Just Friends Part 3 or Roommates Part 2, so please stop asking. However, once I reach 1K followers, I’ll give you all a little treat :) Also, THIS GIF IS NOT MINE.
That picture. That stupid picture. It was because of that picture that you found yourself clicking on various posts that had your heart breaking even more. What picture? The fucking picture of Luke in his smiley shirt - you know the one - pre-lip piercing and with fringe. The picture made you realize how much he had changed with his new found fame. Sure, the first year wasn’t as bad, but as the band grew, the more Luke lost himself in the fame. Of course you were happy that the band was taking off and that he had become more comfortable and confident in his own skin, but if along the way he acted like someone he wasn’t, he’d eventually turn into that person permanently and you don’t think you can sit back and watch it unfold. Luke was no longer the lanky, shy, teenage boy that you once knew. He had become this muscular, outgoing, nearly twenty year old man that you don’t even know. “Hey, Luke,” you called over to him where he was sat on the opposite couch on his phone - which is really all he does anymore when he’s not playing a show, being interviewed, or not out clubbing. “Hmm?” He hummed, not even looking up at you. “Let’s go do something. The two of us, just like how we used to. We can go to your favorite pizza place down the road,” you suggested. You wanted to spend some time with your best friend as it has been a very long time since you had. “Sorry, can’t. Have an interview in a few. Maybe next time,” he shot you down, still not looking up at his phone. What a lie that was.
More pictures. All you saw were picture upon picture of him over Twitter and Tumblr. “Interview, my ass,” you mumbled as you scrolled through the pictures of Luke at Nice Guy with some girl. He could’ve said he wanted to go clubbing. You would’ve joined him, but it seems that he doesn’t want anything to do with you as of lately. After scrolling through a few more, you slammed your laptop shut in anger. You don’t recognize the boy that was on your screen.
“Hey, Y/N!” Luke yelled at you from behind. You turned around from where you were walking in the direction of their dressing room. “What?” Luke caught up to you. “Geez, what’s your problem?” You rolled your eyes and kept walking. “What do you want?” He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Thought we could go out to eat.” You stopped in your tracks and looked at him. “Wow, you actually have time for me? Ordinary, Y/N?” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Why say it like that? I always have time for you.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “Bullshit.” You turned to walk away. Luke grabbed your arm and pulled you back. “It’s not bullshit. I make time to hang out with you.” “Oh really? When’s the last time we hung out, Luke?” He thought for a moment. “When we went bowling and made a bet to see who would have to be the winner’s servant for a day.” “And when was that?” You proceeded to question him. “Last week?” He guessed. This time you scoffed. “More like five months ago, Lucas. Nice try.” “So what if I haven’t made time to hang out with you? I’ve been busy with the band,” he nonchalantly stated. “Busy with the band? You call going out clubbing and hanging with girls busy with the band? Get a grip on yourself, Luke.” “Stop being such a complaining little bitch, Y/N. You should be thankful that I even still bother to hang out with a nobody like you.” You sucked in a breath and took a step back away from him as tears filled your eyes. That was the one thing Luke had promised you he wouldn’t dare to think of saying to you as he got famous more and more everyday. Luke’s face turned into one of shock and regret. “Y/N… I-I didn’t mean-” “Don’t worry. You won’t have to worry about hanging out with a nobody like me anymore.” “That’s not what I meant-” Then you said the words that broke him. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.” And with that, you turned on your heels and ran away.
You ignored his calls and texts. You ignored the pounding on your hotel door. All you know is that you wanted out and the only way to do that was to leave. So that’s what you did. You changed into a pair of leggings and a tank, threw on a flannel, grabbed your phone and wallet, and was out the door. You had gotten into a taxi and gave the driver directions to the one place where you knew that you’d be able to clear your head. You thanked and paid the driver then headed towards the building. You greeted the receptionist, who knew you very well from the amount of times you’ve been here, and asked if your room was open. “Yeah, go on in,” he told you and you thanked him before rushing towards your room. You opened the door and flipped on the light switch. You walked further into your sanctuary, letting the door close behind you. You took off your flannel and tied it around your waist then threw your hair up into a ponytail. You walked over to the sound booth and plugged your phone into the system and the familiar tune of Justin Bieber’s song Sorry filled the empty room. You walked over to the mirror and stared at yourself. Your eyes were red and puffy from the crying while your hair was disheveled in its ponytail. Then you started dancing. At first it was just a few free styling moves, but then you let the music take over as you created moves, letting out your frustration and anger. You don’t even know how many times the song had repeated itself or how long you spent in the studio, but you got an idea when there was a knock on the door followed by Casey - the receptionist - walking in. “Y/N, it’s closing time,” he said as he sat in front of you with his back against the mirror as he watched you continue to dance. “Really? How long have I been in here?” You asked surprised as you came to a halt. He shrugged. “About five hours maybe?” Your eyes widened. “What time is it now?” He pulled out his phone. “About a quarter till ten.” He pocketed his phone. “You’re not normally in here for this long unless you have a class. What’s up?” He patted the spot beside him. You grabbed your phone from the sound booth and made your way over to sit down beside him. “Luke.” “What happened this time?” You shrugged. “He basically called me a bitch and a nobody.” Casey furrowed his eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound like the Luke you’ve told me about before.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “Because it’s not. I don’t even think that the real Luke exists anymore. He got washed away in the fame.” He put his hand on your knee. “You should find him and bring him back as that is what a good friend would do. It’s also what someone who’s in love with him would do too.” You gave him an incredulous look. “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Hold on there. Who said that I was in love with Luke?” He gave you a look. “It’s obvious that you are, Y/N. The way you talk about him, the fact that you’re angry about this, the fact that you care so much about what he does… all of that just points to the obvious fact that you love him.” You sighed as you stared straight ahead of you at the wall. “How are you able to see all of this and yet I’m invisible to everyone else?” He shrugged. “You’re in here a lot you know. It’s kind of obvious.” “Yeah, to you.” He sighed and stood up. “Come on,” he held his hand out for you to take. “Where are we going?” I asked him as I took his hand and he pulled me up. “We are getting some ice cream because that is always a great solution to every problem.” You laughed. “I guess I could go for some ice cream.” So, true to his word, the two of you went and got some ice cream. You stayed out for about an hour just talking and enjoying your ice cream until you had to go back. “I guess I should head on back,” you tell him as you stood up to throw your cup away. He followed you. “I can bring you back to your hotel if you want so that you don’t have to call a taxi.” You smiled at him. “That’d be great, thanks.” He nodded and the two of you walked over to his car. He pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and turned the car off. “You don’t have to walk me in, Casey. I can go in by myself.” He shook his head as he got out of the car. “That’d be very douchey of me.” You laughed as you got out as well. “Suit yourself.” The two of you headed inside and into the elevator towards your floor. “So, what are you gonna do now? You can’t just keep on ignoring him.” “I’ll do it until I can’t anymore.” He shook his head and the elevator doors opened. The two of you stepped out and headed towards your hotel room. You opened the door and walked in to see all of the band inside. “Uh, why are you all in here? This is my room in case you forgot,” you tell them as you put your phone and wallet on top of the dresser. “What are we doing here? Where have you been? You’ve been gone for five hours and didn’t tell any of us where you were going. You didn’t even answer our calls and texts. Then you come back at a quarter past eleven with some random guy?” Luke scolds you as he got up from the bed and stalked over to where you stood. You crossed your arms. “If you knew that I wasn’t answering your calls or text, did it ever occur to you that I was ignoring you? That I left for a reason?” You tell him. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it again. “Can you all just leave? I’m tired and I just want to sleep,” you sighed and opened the hotel door showing them that you meant it. The rest of the lads got up, muttering a quick goodnight, before leaving with Casey following suit leaving Luke standing where he was and you still by the opened door. “I mean it, Lucas. Leave,” you tell him and gesture with your head to the hallway. “No,” he said stubbornly. “Why must you be so damn difficult?” “Oh, I’m being difficult? You’re the one that fucking won’t talk to me!” “Because you’re being such a dick!” You yell at him and slam the door shut then stalked over to him. “Oh, I’m a dick? How am I being a dick? I’m not the one blatantly avoiding another person who is only trying to apologize!” “I don’t want an apology from you if it won’t be sincere and you’ll only do it again!” “It was an accident! I didn’t mean to say it! It was a one time thing!” “But you promised you would never say those words to me, Luke.“ He sighed as he rubbed a hand over his face. “It was an accident. I was just annoyed and it slipped out.” “You wouldn’t say it if you never meant it.” “Y/N…” “I don’t even know you anymore, Luke.” “I’m still me,” he told you. You shook your head. “Fame has changed you, Luke.” You looked up at him with watery eyes. “And I really wish it hadn’t.” His own eyes started to water as well. “Hey, the old Luke is still here. He just grew up.” “You can still grow up and still be the same person you once were. You’re acting like someone you’re not and you’re turning into that person. Well, news flash, Luke. I’m not one to be swooned by all the glamour and fame. If you even knew me like you once did, you know I prefer the small things over anything extravagant. You know I’d prefer movie marathons in my pajamas than going out and clubbing.” “What do you want me to do?” He pleaded. You walked back and opened the door. “I want you to wake up and snap yourself out of this
because until the Luke that I know comes back, I don’t want anything to do with you.” He stared at you in disbelief. “You can’t just shut me out of your life, Y/N! Have all the years of being best friends meant nothing to you?” You glared at him through your tears. “That! That right there is exactly what I’m talking about, Luke! You know just how much this friendship means to me! How dare you say I think of it any less!” You scoffed. “You need to get a grip on life.” He didn’t move. “Y/N.” “I swear on all that is good that if you don’t leave right now, Luke, I will scream bloody murder and throw shit at you until you do,” you huffed, all of your patience gone. He stared at you in shock. “You have five seconds,” you tell him as you started counting down. You normally would’ve laughed at your reference to their band name, but you were done with his shit. He shook his head and made his way past you and out the door. You slammed the door and pressed you back against it as you slid down to the floor. Your strong façade dropping as your tears flowed freely. You just lost your best friend.
"HYYH is forever, bc it's a cycle It's a loop of space/time that continues to repeat itself forever" Omg this reminds me of the anime higurashi naku koro ni. A group of friends are trapped in a time loop and they always end up dying in each different "arc" and one friend knows what's happening and tries to stop it but another friend is the reason they're stuck in the time loop.. its still way different then what BTS has given us but I think the similarities are there&kinda cool lol