#and they did synchronized dances like they do in the movies

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

I can’t believe my parents haven’t taken me to more Indian weddings. I feel robbed

[t4kalcvr]

MIRA CAN’T KNOW

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐉𝐀 word count :: ( 6,231 ) genre :: forbidden romance, && secret desire. content contains :: moderately spicy ending, acrobatic + designer reader, manipulation, temptation, infatuation, stalking mentioned (?), big sister mira. PART TWO ! PART THREE

૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

the sun was beginning to melt behind the city skyline, casting long, amber shadows over the quiet rooftops of seoul. golden hour made the steel beams glow like fire, and the concrete below softened in color — almost like the city was finally exhaling.

you moved with the air.

your fingertips pressed into the edge of the railing as your knees bent, weight shifting forward, and then —

a clean vault over the rooftop ledge.

your body arched, twisted midair, and landed silently on the next building, just above the park. you didn’t stumble. you never did. the soles of your sneakers caught the impact without a sound, years of acrobatic training whispering through your muscles.

you moved like water. fast when needed, invisible when still.

no one ever looked up.

from where you crouched, the scene below unfolded like a movie — soundless, distant, almost unreal. a small public performance stage had been set up in the park’s center, ringed by fans, press, and a wall of perfectly disguised security.

the saja boys were here.

you’d never seen them before. not in person. not up close.

you adjusted your footing on the metal beam, crouching lower behind an aging ventilation pipe. just enough to be fully concealed, but still have a clear view. the park lights were flickering on one by one as the stage crew rushed to finalize the setup.

and there they were.

five boys — tall, sharp silhouettes against the fading light, stepping onto the platform with practiced ease. the crowd erupted as music kicked in, a polished mix of synth and bass that vibrated through the rooftops under your fingertips.

you didn’t know their names.

you didn’t need to.

mira had told you: observe only.

do not engage.

you were plan b — their shadow on the rooftop, her eyes where she couldn’t be.

huntr/x had been asked to attend the performance publicly, to keep tabs on the newcomers. official reports called the saja boys “industry rising stars.” private files called them “unknown entities with potential corrupted energy signatures.”

mira called them dangerous.

and still — there they were, dancing like it was nothing. like they were just idols.

you tilted your head slightly, watching them move with perfect synchronicity. everything about them was clean, intentional, captivating — but not in the way regular idol groups were. no, this felt too exact. the lines in their choreography snapped like symbols being drawn midair. there was power in the way their limbs sliced through space.

you narrowed your eyes.

you weren’t trained to judge music.

you were trained to read tension.

and something — something in the way the tallest one pivoted — something in the way the boy with silver rings on every finger held his final pose —

it didn’t sit right.

you reached slowly into your jacket pocket, pulling out the small sealed charm mira had given you before you left. a flat gold disk etched with protective lines. a warning tool.

you held it under the ledge, hidden from view.

no glow.

no shift.

nothing.

but your gut…

your gut twisted anyway.

you pressed a hand to the cool rooftop to center yourself, breathing in through your nose. the scent of summer rain still clung to the concrete from yesterday’s storm. in the distance, the cheers swelled again as the music shifted into their final set.

your eyes tracked every step. every turn. every expression.

you weren’t here to be amazed.

you weren’t here to be impressed.

you were here because if something went wrong —

you would be the one to jump first.

you adjust your earpiece with one hand, fingers still curled around the golden charm in your pocket. the cheers below are deafening now — echoing off every surface and vibrating through the soles of your feet like thunder with a beat drop.

“update?” rumi’s voice comes through first. smooth. composed. a little crackly from static.

“anything abnormal in their aura signatures?”

“visuals look clean,” you whisper, low enough not to be picked up by any stray rooftop mics. “no glows. no pulses. their choreo’s tight, like… almost too tight. kinda creepy.”

“aw, i like creepy,” zoey chirps in, her voice cutting into the line like a can of soda being popped open. “creepy’s cool. like spooky hot. how’s their footwork, though? would you call it advanced or like… aggressively mediocre?”

“why does that matter,” mira mutters in the background. you can already hear the tired pinched edge in her voice. “this isn’t a dance competition, it’s a reconnaissance mission—”

“everything’s a dance competition if you believe in it hard enough,” zoey says immediately.

you bite back a small laugh and shift your weight, glancing down at the stage again.

they’re halfway through the final track now. you think it’s called soda pop. catchy, hyper-processed — the kind of song that would get stuck in your head for days whether you liked it or not.

you reach for the tiny tablet strapped to your forearm, logging each formation and energy reading, when the lights flash white-blue and the beat dips low, and then—

he steps forward.

the teal-haired one.

from this distance, he’s just a silhouette at first — low shoulders, relaxed stance, mic angled up toward his mouth. the crowd screams before he even says a word.

you blink.

then he starts rapping.

smooth. effortless. his voice is like carbonated sugar with a sharp afterbite — fast, clear, but slurred in the cool, cocky way that drips off the stage like syrup. he moves like he doesn’t care who’s watching, but every gesture is deliberate. one ringed hand tugs his jacket sleeve down mid-line, and it’s the kind of detail that shouldn’t matter, and yet your stomach flips anyway.

he throws a wink at the crowd, tongue flashing.

the fans lose their minds.

and for a second — just a breath — you forget where you are.

you forget why you’re here.

you don’t realize you’ve stopped writing until your tablet dims. your heartbeat thuds louder than the bass. you don’t even notice you’re leaning a little too close to the ledge.

“y/n!”

you jerk back hard, nearly slipping.

mira’s voice explodes into your ear like a lightning strike.

“what the hell are you doing?! eyes on the target!”

you wince and duck lower. “i am! i was just—he’s—i—it’s fine!”

“you zoned out. on surveillance. during a mission.”

“it was like—five seconds.”

“five seconds is all it takes to get killed,” mira snaps.

“mira,” rumi’s voice cuts in, calm but firm. “ease off. we’re done here anyway.”

you blink. “done?”

“yup. readings are normal. nothing’s showing up on my scans. we know what they’re hiding but their performances are pretty flawless from a fans perspective.”

a pause. and then—

“head back to the apartment, y/n,” rumi continues. “upload what you have, finish the intel logs.”

another pause.

“also… those new concert outfits aren’t going to design themselves.”

you sigh, long and dramatic. “i knew you were gonna say that.”

“i always say that,” rumi replies, just a little smug.

“put something cool on mine this time!” zoey yells faintly in the background. “maybe zippers that actually function? or like—detachable sleeves! oh, oh—pockets that can hold snacks!”

“no snacks,” mira growls. “you’re already banned from eating onstage.”

you’re already backing away from the ledge, tucking your tablet into your satchel as your sneakers hit the gravel and your fingers graze the rusted edge of the fire escape. your body flows into the movement without thought — a clean drop, two light bounces off the scaffolding, a wide arc off a shipping container. you sprint through the narrow side streets, leaping over fences and low walls with ease, vaulting through the quiet alleys like muscle memory.

but despite how fast your body moves—

your mind doesn’t.

you keep seeing him.

that teal hair, messy but intentional. that voice. those rings.

the heat in your chest that shouldn’t be there. he’s not supposed to matter. he’s not even supposed to exist in your head.

but still—

you run faster.

as if you can outrun the thought of him.

by the time you make it back to the apartment, the sun has long since slipped beneath the skyline, and the air is warm in that oddly electric way it gets just before summer fully sinks in. the elevator dings open to the usual mess: mismatched shoes scattered by the door, half-unpacked gear bags in the hallway, and the soft hum of a noodle pot boiling on the stove.

“hey!” you call, toeing off your sneakers. “i’m back!”

zoey leans her head out from the kitchen, waving a wooden spoon at you like a wand. there’s a streak of chili oil across her cheek, and her micro bangs are stuck slightly to her forehead again.

“we thought you died!” she shouts, dramatically slumping against the counter. “mira was this close to summoning an exorcism just in case—”

“that’s not even a thing,” rumi says calmly, lounging on the couch with a stack of printed mission briefs balanced on one thigh. her long purple braid is wrapped in a loose spiral across her shoulder, nearly brushing the floor where she sits cross-legged.

“totally is,” zoey mumbles through a mouthful of rice. “if you believe hard enough.”

you grin, sliding your tablet out of your bag and placing it on the side table.

“don’t worry, i’m not haunting you just yet,” you joke. “i’m heading up to the rooftop. finishing your outfits while the wind’s good.”

you lift your sketchbook and gesture toward the ceiling.

“and no, zoey, i’m not adding snack pockets.”

“what’s the point of pants if they don’t hold candy,” she cries behind you as you head for the window hatch.

mira, who’s just stepped into the hallway and is brushing through her pink twin ponytails with a look of practiced precision, catches your gaze.

her eyes flick once to the sketchbook, then to you.

“just be careful,” she says, voice low.

you give her a small, crooked smile — not mocking, not rebellious. just… fond.

“i know,” you promise.

then, with a quick backward sprint, you launch yourself out the open window frame — flip once, land silently on the adjacent ledge, and scale the pipe-ladder with the grace of someone who could do it blindfolded.

૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

the rooftop is your favorite place in the city.

the breeze dances around your shoulders like a scarf. the city’s noise dulls just enough to make it feel far away. above you, the sky is cracked open with stars, some still blurry behind the neon haze, but beautiful anyway.

your sketchbook lies open across your lap, pages dotted with incomplete designs — angled seams for rumi, flashy detailing for zoey, a more practical two-piece for mira. you’re halfway through finalizing their under-stage reinforced lining when your mind drifts again.

you don’t mean to.

but there he is again.

the teal-haired boy.

his voice, slick like soda fizz.

his movement, cocky and fluid.

his smirk.

you sigh, dragging your pencil across the paper in a lazy arc. not even the fabric kind. just a curve. possibly a mistake.

“get it together,” you whisper to yourself, erasing the line with a small, frustrated shake of your head.

but then—

you pause.

there’s a flicker.

not from the lights. not from your sketchbook. from the far corner of the rooftop — a shadow shifting against the grain of moonlight.

you freeze. slowly close your sketchbook. fingers slide toward your belt, brushing the carved silver handle clipped at your hip.

another flicker. this one faster.

closer.

your breath goes shallow. a cold tingle slips down your spine. you draw the weapon in a single movement — the sickle forming in your palm with a low hum, the blade igniting in that familiar, fierce glow — deep, glowing blue.

then the shadow drops in front of you.

you leap back, weapon raised, ready to swing—

until a hand catches your wrist. another hand presses gently — firmly — over your mouth.

your eyes widen, but the scream never leaves your throat.

he’s here.

the boy.

up close now, he’s taller than you expected. even in the half-light, his teal hair is unmistakable — windswept and messy in a way that almost feels intentional. there’s a single chain earring glinting in one ear, and his smile — crooked, easy — feels like trouble you forgot to lock your door against.

“shhh,” he whispers, leaning in just slightly.

“you’re gonna wake the whole city.”

his hand is warm over your mouth. not rough. but steady. steady enough that your heart hammers against your ribs like it’s trying to climb out.

your sickle stays raised.

his eyes flick to it, amused.

“woah,” he murmurs, clearly impressed. “a glowing sickle. that’s hot.”

you narrow your eyes.

he drops his hand from your mouth slowly.

you don’t scream.

but you don’t lower your blade either.

he grins wider.

“you’re cuter when you don’t yell.”

your eyes meet his, and for a moment—just a flicker of heartbeats—you forget to breathe.

up close, he’s even more unreal than he was on stage. the sharpness of his jawline, the faint sheen of sweat along his collarbone, the glint of a silver ring between two fingers. he looks like he stepped straight out of a dream manufactured for troublemakers with too much charm and not enough restraint.

and for a second, you let yourself stare.

just one second.

and then—

you swing.

your body whips into motion with no hesitation, sickle slicing in a fast, bright arc aimed right for his side. he steps back at the perfect angle, like he saw it coming from a mile away. the blade cuts the air where his ribs were just seconds ago.

“okay, okay,” he laughs, both hands raised now. “so that’s a no on the kiss?”

you lunge forward again.

this time he flips back, landing light on the balls of his feet, that same grin still painted across his mouth. he’s not even winded. cocky bastard.

“you’re fast,” he says, watching you circle him. “and flexible. i like that.”

“i hate that,” you snap back, launching a low swing at his legs. “stop talking like you’re impressed.”

“but i am,” he says, ducking the blade with a graceful pivot. “and not just by the weapon, though i gotta say—blue glow? dramatic. kind of a vibe.”

you exhale through your nose, annoyed. not because you’re missing—but because he keeps dodging like it’s a game. and it shouldn’t be.

“i know what you are,” you hiss, flipping your grip and aiming high this time, blade angled for his neck. “you’re not fooling anyone.”

he laughs again, voice syrup-smooth.

“oh no, i’ve been exposed,” he gasps, clutching his chest like you just insulted his whole existence. “what gave me away? the hair? the stage presence? my devastatingly good looks?”

“the energy signature, genius.”

your blade crackles as it cuts close again, barely grazing his shoulder. he doesn’t flinch.

“you’re leaking corrupted aura like it’s your cologne.”

“ah. so it is working.”

he flashes a grin like you just complimented him.

you lunge, but he dodges again, this time spinning behind you with infuriating ease. his breath brushes your ear before he speaks.

“so tell me, little rooftop spy…”

his voice drops to a whisper.

“you always come this high up just to stare at demons?”

you twist fast, elbow swinging, but he ducks with a laugh.

“you’re impossible,” you growl.

“i prefer charming,” he replies, stepping onto the ledge like he’s weightless.

“but impossible works too.”

you raise your sickle again, eyes narrowed.

“you’re dangerous.”

he tilts his head, mock-offended.

“you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“it is.”

his eyes gleam.

“then why haven’t you killed me yet?”

you freeze for half a second. your grip doesn’t loosen—but something in your chest pulses strangely. not fear. not yet. something sharper. curiosity, maybe. or the beginning of something you’re not ready to name.

he leans in, still out of reach, still grinning.

“or maybe…” he says, voice soft like static,

“you’re just a little curious, too.”

you grit your teeth.

“you talk too much.”

“i get that a lot.”

you swing again, harder this time — sickle arching clean through the air — but baby shifts just enough that your blade misses by inches. your momentum pulls you forward and suddenly—

his hand catches your wrist again.

your feet slide on the rooftop gravel.

his other hand steadies your waist.

and just like that—

you’re chest to chest.

he’s holding you in place, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. not with force. not with fear. just… familiarity. like he knew you’d end up like this.

your sickle glows between you, humming softly with energy. it casts a halo of blue light across his features — catching in the curve of his jaw, the corner of his grin, the ring on his middle finger. and god, he’s close. close enough that you can see the sharp slant of his lashes, the faint scar on his chin, the heat in his eyes.

“you gonna keep swinging?” he asks, voice low, amused.

you don’t answer.

your chest rises and falls too fast. your hand is still gripped tight around the handle of your weapon, but for some reason… you’re not moving.

“i saw you,” he says next, and the tone shifts — softens, slightly. not cocky. just sure.

“back at the performance.”

your brows furrow.

“you didn’t—”

“on the rooftop,” he says, fingers still resting lightly at your side. “you thought you were hidden. you were good — quiet, clever. but i noticed. and i kept noticing.”

your mouth opens. then closes again.

he leans a little closer.

the smirk returns, but it’s not the same kind of grin as before. it’s slower. quieter. it slips into you like a song you didn’t mean to memorize.

“you looked at me,” he murmurs.

“not like the others do. not like the screaming fans or the panicked scouts. not like you wanted to figure me out or take me down.”

his gaze flicks down to your lips — just for a second.

“you looked at me like you wanted to understand me. and that…”

his voice dips even softer,

“that’s how rumi looks at jinu.”

your eyes widen.

he smiles wider.

“i know that look. i’ve seen it. a hundred times.”

“it’s not like that,” you snap, but your voice betrays you — tight, uncertain. you try to pull back, but he’s still holding your wrist. your sickle flares a little brighter, like it’s trying to warn you.

or maybe just remind you what he is.

he tilts his head, teasing again.

“no?” he whispers.

“then why are you still here?”

your heart is slamming against your ribs. you want to shove him off.

you want to run. you want to scream, but your legs won’t move.

not yet.

“i could be wrong,” he says gently, eyes never leaving yours,

“but i don’t think you really want to kill me.”

and in the space between your silence—

he leans in even closer.

“i think…you’re just scared of what it’d mean if you didn’t try.”

your fingers curl tighter around your sickle, but it’s not raised anymore. your arm’s gone slack between the two of you, caught somewhere between defense and surrender. you don’t remember leaning in. it just… happens. like gravity — slow, certain, inevitable.

he’s so close you can feel the warmth of him, the ghost of breath on your skin.

your eyes flick down to his lips, just once, and something flutters wild in your chest.

he watches you.

not with hunger.

with certainty.

like this moment was always going to happen.

you tilt your head slightly, breath catching, lips parting as the space between you thins to a single inhale—

when—

“y/n!”

the voice cuts clean through the rooftop haze, sharp and familiar, drifting up through the half-open window just below.

you jolt back.

hard.

baby doesn’t flinch. he just lifts an eyebrow, amused, as you pivot slightly toward the edge.

“what?” you shout down, heart still thudding.

“there’s dinner in the fridge,” mira calls, her voice a little softer now, casual in that way she tries too hard to sound normal.

“don’t stay out too late.”

you glance down at the rooftop hatch like it might betray you.

“okay,” you call back, shifting awkwardly.

a beat.

then, from below again:

“and be careful.”

your lips twitch.

you swallow, nodding once — more to yourself than anything.

“i will,” you murmur.

baby’s eyes are still on you.

there’s something unreadable there now — a mix of mischief and heat, sure, but something quieter too. something sharper. like he’s memorizing you in the half-light, filing you away between lives.

“this is dangerous,” you say quietly, still not looking at him.

“you know that, right? this—us? we’re not compatible. i’m supposed to kill you.”

he hums, stepping closer again, slow and unafraid.

“there are very few things i want in my… ‘life,’” he adds air quotes with a sly curl of his fingers, “and you just happen to be one of them.”

you exhale sharply, caught between a scoff and a shiver.

“you’re not serious.”

“i’ve never been more serious,” he says, voice lower now. velvet around something darker.

he steps into your space again, and this time, you don’t stop him.

he leans in — not for a kiss — but closer, deeper, until his nose brushes the edge of your jaw, trailing gently down to the soft curve of your neck. you freeze, breath halting entirely as his lips don’t quite touch you — but his skin does. warm and real and wrong.

he inhales like your scent is something he’s been waiting centuries for.

“you smell like jasmine and chaos,” he murmurs, voice roughened now with something hungrier.

“it’s driving me insane.”

his nose grazes just beneath your ear, and your eyes flutter shut for a half-second too long.

this is a mistake.

a huge mistake.

but god, your legs won’t move.

you should move.

you should step back, raise your weapon, do something. but all you can do is stand there — frozen and burning from the inside out — as his breath ghosts along your neck like a secret you were never supposed to hear.

he’s close. too close. so close you feel the slow drag of his inhale, the careful tilt of his jaw as his nose brushes along the edge of your collarbone, as if committing the scent of your skin to memory. the contact isn’t even fully skin-to-skin — it’s featherlight. maddeningly soft. but it scorches all the same.

“you’re trembling,” he whispers, voice smooth as a sin he wants you to enjoy.

you suck in a breath and force your body to stiffen, as if that will make this easier. as if pretending your heart isn’t trying to punch a hole through your chest will make it true.

“i’m not trembling,” you mutter, eyes locked ahead, not daring to meet his.

he huffs a soft, amused sound against your neck — a little exhale that makes your stomach twist in a slow, tight knot.

“no?” he murmurs. “then what’s this, sweetheart?”

his hand, warm and ungloved, gently skims your side — from the slope of your hipbone up to the outer curve of your ribcage — not quite touching anything too intimate, but close enough that your breath catches again. you tell yourself it’s the wind. the rooftop chill. not him.

“this isn’t going to work,” you say quietly. the words tumble out flat, forced.

“you can flirt all you want, but i’m not falling for it.”

“for what, exactly?” he asks, tilting his head to look at you fully now. “my charm? my smile? my obvious disregard for your murderous intentions?”

he grins, slow and wicked, like he knows exactly how your nerves are unraveling. and when your eyes — finally, finally — meet his again, there’s something dangerous in his gaze. not because it threatens violence. but because it promises softness. sweetness. intimacy.

“i’m not supposed to want this,” you whisper, barely able to admit it even now. “you’re—”

you swallow.

“you’re a demon.”

“mm,” he hums, stepping even closer. your sickle is still in your hand, but it’s lowered. limp. forgotten.

“and yet, here you are. letting me touch you. letting me get this close.”

he leans down again, brushing the tip of his nose against your jaw, slower this time. more deliberate. your lips part without permission, your breath growing shallow.

“you can keep telling yourself you hate this,” he whispers.

“but your body tells me something different.”

his hand trails lower — not groping, never forceful — just grazing the curve of your waist like he’s tracing a line he already drew in a dream. your skin tingles in his wake. the glow of your sickle dims slightly in your grip, no longer burning, no longer fighting. even it doesn’t know what to do with this moment.

“i could ruin you,” you murmur.

“you could try.”

his lips are so close now, you feel the shape of his smile against your cheek.

“but you won’t. not yet.”

his nose brushes along your temple now, slow and reverent, and for a second — just one second — his lips barely graze the shell of your ear.

“tell me to stop,” he breathes.

you don’t. you should. but you don’t.

his face hovers a breath away from yours.

you can feel it — the next second, the next movement. if you just leaned a little closer, it would happen. lips would brush. breath would tangle. boundaries would break. it would be warm and soft and dangerous in ways neither of you can walk back from.

and for a moment… your body considers it. your eyes fall half-lidded. your lips twitch slightly, the air between you charged with something thick and unspoken.

but then—

you lift your hand.

and gently — but firmly — you cover his mouth.

“stop,” you whisper, barely more than a breath.

his eyes lock onto yours. his expression doesn’t change. but the energy between you shifts. it doesn’t die — not even close. it lingers, heavy and present, like fog that refuses to burn off.

you slowly step back, just enough to reclaim your breath, though your hand still rests between his lips and your heart.

“if you keep doing this,” you say, quietly, evenly, “you’re going to get killed.”

he blinks — once — but doesn’t pull away.

“if not by me… then by one of the girls.” your voice tightens slightly. “rumi. zoey. mira. they’ll see you as a threat — because that’s what you are.”

your fingers tremble, even as you lower your hand from his face.

“so whatever this is…” you murmur, gesturing between your bodies, your tangled energy, the lingering heat of his breath on your skin,

“it can’t happen. not if you want to survive it.”

and for the first time tonight — you see something flicker in his eyes. something that might be… disappointment. not dramatic. not cruel. just quiet. quiet in the way a song ends too soon, or a goodbye is whispered instead of spoken aloud.

you take a step back.

but then—

he takes two steps forward.

his hand lifts — not to grab — but to gently take your wrist, guiding your hand back to his chest. right over his heartbeat. it’s steady. strong. real.

“i know,” he says, and his voice has changed — softer now. less teasing. still warm, still magnetic, but shaded with something real.

“i know how this ends.”

his thumb brushes along the inside of your wrist — slow, deliberate — and then he leans in again. not all the way. not kissing. but his forehead nearly rests against yours.

“maybe it ends with you slicing me open. maybe i disappear before you ever get the chance. maybe we never see each other again after tonight.”

you close your eyes, exhaling shakily.

“then why?” you ask, barely above a whisper. “why even start?”

his nose grazes yours again, gentle. intimate. his voice drops even lower, like a secret meant only for the air between your skin.

“because not all temptations are meant to be resisted.”

you feel your chest twist painfully. the worst part is — you want to believe him.

you want to lean forward again.

you want to forget the way mira said be careful.

you want to pretend your mission was never to end creatures like him.

“even if we’re destined to fall apart,” he murmurs, “don’t you think it’s worth it to know what it feels like before we do?”

his breath brushes your lips again. and he smiles — not cocky, not cruel. hopeful.

“i’ll take every second you give me.”

“even if it ends in flame.”

you know what this is.

you’re not stupid. you’ve studied demons your whole life — in theory, in combat, in field missions beside your sister and the rest of HUNTR/X. you know how they operate. how they twist what’s tender, how they take the things you crave and make you believe they’re offering them — when really, they’re only taking what they want in return.

and still, your hands don’t move.

you let him touch you.

you let him speak in that voice that dips just low enough to sound like a secret pressed into your skin. you let his eyes linger on your mouth, your pulse, your silence.

you should resist him.

because you know his sweetness is just a weapon sharpened with want.

because you know the way he looks at you is practiced, perfect, and poisonous.

but you also know the worst part.

the part that terrifies you more than his teeth or claws or corrupted aura.

the truth that’s been sitting heavy in your chest since the rooftop, since the concert, since the first second you saw him step into the spotlight—

is that even before he noticed you, you couldn’t stop watching him.

that one moment.

you were supposed to be tracking heat signatures, eyes darting between the Saja boys’ formations. and yet, your gaze kept falling to him.

the flick of his fingers through his hair.

the way he glanced at the crowd like he owned it.

you’ve been carrying that moment with you all day.

like a splinter you don’t want to pull out.

your breath hitches as you close the distance again. your fingers twitch at your sides, uncertain, restless.

“mira can’t know,” you whisper, eyes fixed on his. your voice barely comes out.

it’s not just a warning.

it’s a plea. a prayer. a promise to yourself that this is just one night, one mistake, one weakness you won’t let grow.

his response is quiet, immediate.

“she won’t.”

and that’s all he says.

he doesn’t push. doesn’t beg.

but his grip on your waist tightens — warm, eager, a silent please.

you lean in.

inch by inch. breath by breath.

your chest brushes his. your nose skims past his cheek. your hand, somehow, finds the fabric of his jacket, gripping lightly just to keep your balance.

he exhales, soft and shaky — the first sign of urgency he’s shown all night.

and then—

his mouth is on yours.

it’s not gentle. it’s not slow. it’s desperate.

his lips part against yours like he’s been starving and only just now realized what he needed to survive. his hand slips to the small of your back, pulling you flush to him, and your fingers tighten in the fabric at his chest. your heart slams against your ribcage like it wants out — like it wants into him.

he kisses like he’s trying to burn himself into your memory.

and you let him.

because you’re not strong enough to stop.

not tonight.

his mouth moves against yours like he already knows your rhythms — not rushed, not forced, but starved. his kiss deepens, and suddenly, everything else falls away. the rooftop, the city, your mission, your sister’s warnings — they all dissolve into the blur of heat and fingertips and breath caught between two people who shouldn’t be touching but can’t seem to stop.

his hands are everywhere — in your hair, along your jaw, pressing into the curve of your lower back, sliding beneath the fabric at your sides. and you… you touch back. your fingers roam over the ridges of his shoulders, the dip of his spine, the soft warmth just beneath his shirt where he burns.

you’ve never wanted like this before.

not with this kind of ache. not with this kind of pull.

you feel like you’re coming apart beneath his touch, unraveling thread by thread — and the terrifying part is, you don’t want him to stop.

his lips trail lower, grazing your jaw, the soft dip beneath your ear, and when he murmurs your name against your skin, it sounds like worship. like something sacred, even from a demon.

you shouldn’t be letting him do this.

you know better.

you know how demons work — seductive, cunning, patient when they want to be. you know they slip beneath your skin and make you think the want is your own.

you try to convince yourself that’s what’s happening.

that this is all manipulation.

but then his hand gently drags along the hem of your shirt — a question. a whisper of permission without words.

you freeze.

you’re going to say no.

you should say no.

but you don’t.

instead, you look into his eyes — and he’s not smirking. not teasing. not playful. he’s just there.

silent. breathless. waiting.

and some tiny voice in your head, distant and breathless, wonders—

why not?

just once.

just tonight.

if this is all there is — if this moment is the only one you’ll ever steal for yourselves —

why not go all the way?

so you nod.

and that’s all it takes.

his hands move with reverence, slow and careful as he starts peeling the fabric away from your skin. the night air brushes along your collarbone. your shirt slips from one shoulder. his lips follow. it’s maddening. it’s everything.

you close your eyes as he kisses lower.

and just when it starts to feel like you’ve completely let go —

like your heartbeat is synced to his,

like maybe your soul is too far gone to call back—

you hear it.

a sound.

not from him.

not from you.

a creak from the stairwell.

your eyes snap open.

baby freezes, lips still pressed to your shoulder.

you freeze. you think for a moment — just a beat — that someone’s found you. that the world has crashed through the rooftop and dragged reality back into your chest.

but nothing happens.

no footsteps. no voices. no more creaking stairwell.

just silence. just breath. just him.

his lips still hover against your shoulder, warm and unmoving, like he’s waiting to see what you’ll do. if you’ll pull away. if you’ll take the out you almost imagined was there.

but you don’t.

because that moment of fear is gone.

and all that’s left…

is this.

his breath returns to your skin first. slow, controlled, trembling at the edges. then his hand slides higher up your spine, curling into your hair, anchoring you to him like he’s afraid you’ll fade away if he lets go.

“you’re sure?” he whispers, voice low and raw — stripped of all his usual charm, all his practiced flirtation.

you don’t answer right away.

you just turn your face to his. and there’s no fear in your eyes now. no logic. no excuses.

“yeah,” you breathe.

“just… don’t make me regret it.”

his mouth is on yours again — deeper this time. slower. hungrier.

you feel it in the way he holds you now — not just to pull you close, but to devour you. like he’s been starving and finally, finally, someone let him taste fire.

your shirt slips fully off your shoulders. his hands trace every new inch of skin like it’s sacred. and yours do the same, slipping beneath the hem of his jacket, feeling the warmth beneath the chaos. his chest rises hard against yours. every breath is sharper now. every touch a little more desperate.

you don’t know when your legs moved — but they’re tangled with his now. the rooftop is warm beneath your back. the stars above blur and swirl and mean absolutely nothing.

his name escapes your lips in a whisper. not the demonic name you know. just him.

just baby.

and in the back of your mind, you know what this is.

you know what he is.

you know what you are.

and still —

you don’t stop.

because something inside you wants to see how far this will go.

you’ve already crossed the line.

already given in to temptation.

already let yourself fall into the thing you were trained to destroy.

so why not keep falling?

his mouth drags down your throat, hot and careful and needing, and your fingers tangle into his hair. your body arches into his without thought. without hesitation.

you stop thinking about consequences.

you stop thinking about the mission.

the lies.

the danger.

you stop thinking about what happens when the sun comes up.

because right now — in this breath, in this heat —

you just want.

and he wants too.

with hands that don’t want to let go.

with lips that speak nothing but yes.

with a body that fits against yours like it’s always belonged here.

so you let it happen.

you let yourselves be selfish.

you let yourselves burn.

and somewhere, tangled between his mouth and your heartbeat, you realize—

you’re not going to stop.

not tonight.

copyright © t4kalcvr 2025 all rights reserved

💬, help, hes so fine 😭 im sorry if this doesn’t seem like his character type but I TRIED. he’s jus so cute and fluffy but i read some fics on him and you know since hes a demon he’d be a very handsy manipulative demon boi 😋 anyways enjoyyyyy and if theres any requests please dont be afraid to make em !!

᧔᧓ you just read a fic that ruined your life—donate a coffee ? ☕️

permanent 🔖 : @sukunasrealgf @sinamew

next suggested read : the game we never meant to win (baby saja)

look here for more reads 📚 !

[fandomfablesunleashed]

Kitten's Valentine

Sylus x reader (can be MC, but doesn't have to be, but is a Hunter)

Summary: Somehow, you were set to spend Valentine’s Day with Sylus.

Words: 1k

Notes: For the Valentine’s Week event. This is my first time posting for LADS, but I recently started playing and quickly got hooked.

English is not my first language

Masterlist

You couldn't believe it. Somehow, you were supposed to spend Valentine’s Day with Sylus.

It had started with a simple text:

“Any plans on Friday, sweetie?”

“I have work in the morning.”

“And in the evening?”

“Nothing, why?”

“Great. I'll see you then, kitten”

That should have been your first warning.

When you returned to your apartment on that day, the sight that greeted you was… absurd. The door barely closed behind you when your eyes fell on the mountain of packages stacked neatly in your living room. They were everywhere—colorful, extravagant, and so over the top. There were flowers, too, blooming in full force as if they were made to fit some grand, romantic scene straight out of a movie.

You walked closer, your heart sinking as you began to open the boxes. Inside, you found clothes that were beyond your wildest dreams—silk, velvet, and lace, all in shades that would flatter you perfectly. Jewelry that sparkled just a bit too brightly, shoes that you could only dream about.

Nestled among them was a single card:

“Pick whatever you like the most, kitten.”

You scoffed. The whole thing was over the top, but what grated at you the most wasn’t the lavish gifts, but the fact that Sylus had chosen things you actually liked. Not only did they reflect your taste, but they seemed… personal.

You sifted through the mountain of luxurious clothing and selected an outfit that, for all its extravagance, did seem to suit you best. With a huff, you slipped it on, the fabric smooth and unfamiliar against your skin. You didn’t want to admit it, but you looked damn good.

Just as you were about to leave, your watch went off—Wanderers. You couldn’t ignore it. A flare up, something out of the ordinary. You'd have to investigate.

You grabbed your jacket and bolted toward the door, but before you could even step into the hallway, your phone buzzed. You paused, irritated, and glanced at the message. It was from Sylus.

“Don’t get blood on your outfit, we have reservations at seven.”

You froze. How did he know?

Your heart skipped a beat, part of you irritated, the other part—unreasonably—flattered. He always seemed to be one step ahead of you. Frustrated, you pushed the thought away. No time for distractions. There was work to do.

You rounded the corner, ready to face the threat head-on, but instead, you came face to face with a sight you didn’t expect.

Sylus.

Leaning casually against the alley wall, his arms crossed, his signature smirk dancing at the edges of his lips.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“Making sure you're not late for our date, kitten.” he replied, that infuriatingly smooth tone of his laced with a hint of amusement.

Annoying. Infuriating. Predictable.

Still, there was no time to argue. You both knew what came next. The fight was swift and efficient. You barely needed to exchange words, your movements synchronized, like two people who’d done this far too many times together. The Wanderer didn’t stand a chance.

When the creature finally crumpled to the ground, defeated, Sylus turned to you with that same smirk, as if nothing unusual had happened.

“Excellent. Now we can focus on ourselves. Shall we, sweetie?”

You tried to hold back a sigh, but it escaped anyway. He was impossible.

The ride was fast, the city lights flashing by in a blur, a streak of neon and streetlamps blending together like some surreal dream. You barely had time to collect your thoughts before the car came to a halt. When you stepped out and saw the restaurant, you stopped dead in your tracks.

It was empty. Entirely. Not a single soul in sight, save for the staff standing by, waiting for your arrival.

“Did you rent the entire place?” you asked, one eyebrow arching in disbelief.

Sylus smiled that signature, knowing smile, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

You felt your annoyance flare just slightly, though the sight of the empty restaurant was… well, it was impressive, if not a little intimidating. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Maybe so,” he said, leaning in just a bit closer, his tone turning playful. “But I could. Is that a problem, kitten?”

You sighed, the sharpness in your breath betraying the fact that you were undeniably touched by the gesture, despite your best efforts to stay aloof. “No,” you muttered, conceding.

“Then relax,” he said, his voice softening just enough to disarm you.

And eventually, you did.

Dinner was… nice. Unnervingly nice. It was hard not to, with the soft glow of candles on the table, the intimate, quiet atmosphere. His usual teasing remarks were still there, of course—his words light, but there was an undeniable tenderness behind them that kept you on edge. 

The meal came to a natural end, and Sylus escorted you back to your apartment with the same effortless charm he always had.

“Well, kitten, thank you for a lovely night.”

For a brief moment, you just stood there, unsure of how to respond. But then—something reckless, something you hadn’t expected, took over. Without thinking, you leaned in.

The soft brush of your lips against his was all it took for Sylus to freeze, the familiar confidence slipping for just a second. For once, Sylus seemed caught off guard, his breath hitching before he kissed you back—slow, deliberate, as if he couldn’t believe this moment was real.

When you pulled away, your pulse racing, he looked at you with pure admiration. 

“Does that mean you enjoyed yourself, sweetie?”

You rolled your eyes.

“As if you don’t know the answer.”

[call-me-kermit]

We Weren't Together

Warning: Pack Mom Stiles(mostly Off screen), Derek is the Alpha, Everyone is Alive, Derek is Jelly, Mild Angst, Misunderstandings, Significant Background Character, Lydia is the best Meddler, Happy Ending Summary: Derek and Stiles are not a couple. Simple as that. Not really sure where I was going with this one. It might be total shit. Womp Womp. NOT PROOFREAD

≫ ────── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ────── ≪

"Cheater!"

"I didn't cheat!"

"You so did! How else would you have all that money when you own two properties!" Erica flung a shoe. All Stiles could do was laugh until his ribs ached.

"Okay," Lydia sighed setting her cards down and backing from the coffee table to lean against the arm of the couch. Allison looked on unimpressed, but only because she knew Stiles cheated.

"Oh come on," Scott groaned. "This is why I never play Monopoly."

"Who's Idea was this?" Isaac threw his cards down and looked around, a scowl due for the culprit.

"Yours." Lydia supplied with an unimpressed expression and a tilt of the head.

Derek sat back with a privet smile. It had been a while since he had gotten to work bringing the old Hale house back to a livable condition. And once the majority of it was done, the pack, without being asked, began coming over every Saturday to spend time all together. He'd see individuals pop in throughout the week, but he loved when they'd all be here together.

"No," Isaac defended. "I said we have, Clue, Uno, Scategories, and Monopoly. I never said I wanted to play this one."

"The way you said 'and Monopoly', made it sound like you did." Stiles offered with a look in his eye Derek couldn't place. "And who could say no to that adorable ridiculous scarf." He teased with kissy lips and a pinch to Isaac's cheek. Isaac swatted his hand away but his cheeks went red.

"If nobody wants to play I'd rather not waste my time." Boyd piped up, the first thing he's said since he reluctantly agreed to play this.

"Okay, we wanna do a different game or a movie?" Stiles offered starting to clean up the pieces into the box.

"Movie!" Erica cheered. "Who's turn is it to pick?"

Derek, who was already up and walking into the kitchen, stopped and checked the calendar on the wall. It was a calendar bought from the vet clinic with different dogs for every month, posing in costumes related to that month's holiday. You can guess who bought it.

Thinking of a name that rhymes with Biles Bilinski.

Who took the commitment to go through the calendar and alternate the pack's names on every Saturday, to mark their turn to choose. Since nobody could ever agree.

"Erica." Derek grinned with his back to the living room while Erica and Lydia cheered, while most of the boys groaned. Whenever it was either of them, they teamed up to find a movie literally only girls would like- according to Jackson. They've been made to watch The Notebook five times, The Princess Bride three times, and 10 Things I Hate About You four times.

Derek leaving the girls behind to settle on what to torture the boys with, he pulled bowls from the cabanit and a pot. Oiling the bottom of the pot, pour in corn kernels to coat the bottom. He covered the pot and let it heat up, turning to get butter from the fridge. But a hand was already on the fridge pulling it open.

Stiles always had a smile on his face when he was at the house, just as happy to be here with everyone as Derek was. Derek watched as Stiles took out the butter opened two sticks into a bowl from the dish rack and plopped it in the microwave. While the corn began popping Stiles and Derek danced around each other in the kitchen, working in perfect synchronicity to stock the large tray with canned drinks, bottles of water, and other various snacks.

Derek eyes all the sugary garbage on the try without making a sound. He had a sweet tooth sure, but he preferred actual baked goods, not the overly processed Debbie cakes and Oreo cookies they kept in the snack cabinet. Just as he was about to settle for just popcorn and water Stiles's hand came into view as he wordlessly put a bag of homemade cookies on the tray. Sharpie scrawled out 'sourwolf' with a smiley face on it.

Derek said nothing, watching Stiles turn and ready the three big bowls for the popcorn to be sorted into. Things like this made Derek feel like a very lucky man. Stiles never even thought about it, just did things like this. Not only for Derek but for the rest of the pack as well. Always taking one extra step to make sure everyone was happy.

Derek knew when Stiles was overthinking things; his nose would scrunch up, sometimes just the slightest bit, and he'd fidget a little more than usual. Derek knew what Stiles had to think before he did something, he never stopped to think about this stuff.

Stiles was a good friend, and Derek was happy he was pack.

After getting the popcorn buttered and evenly distributed they scooped everything up and brought it to the living room. Everyone was finding their seats on the two couches and the armchair, with a movie called Clueless qued up on Netflix.

Derek set the tray down, grabbed a water bottle and his cookies, and found his stop on the end of the couch he always takes. Stiles passed out the bowls of popcorn and settled in. Derek had gotten distracted watching Scott and Isaac fuss over who gets the last can of coke. He snorted dryly and turned to look at Stiles, who always and something to say about their childlike bickering.

Except when he turned to his left, it was the body that sat next to him. Boyd wasn't even paying attention to him. Huh, odd.

Derek looked over to the other couch where Stiles was squished in between Lydia and Erica who were explaining all the reasons Stiles was gonna love this movie. Stiles was smiling at the girls and chuckling, amused at how excited Erica was.

He was confused for a moment about why he assumed it would be Stiles sitting next to him. It didn't matter though, Stiles can sit anywhere, it's not like it matters.

He thought about it while everyone quieted down and the movie started.

Derek thought about all the previous times they settled in for movie night, and from what Derek recalled, Stiles sat by him every time. Derek thought about it for a moment and found himself amused.

If he told Stiles about it he knew what Stiles would say. Something about Pavlov, and Derek subconsciously thinking Stiles would always be next to him when they watched a movie because up until now he was.

But it didn't really matter where anyone sat, Derek convinced himself. He is just as happy sitting next to Boyd as he would be next to Stiles, or anyone else for that matter.

But as the movie went on, and Erica and Lydia both started leaning more onto Stiles, laughing at the funny parts and basically snuggling together, Derek decided he didn't like it.

Something in him became unsettled when by the second half of the movie Stiles started dozing off like he did almost every movie night, his head laying on Lydia's shoulder.

If Stiles were sitting over here, his head would fall onto Derek's shoulder like it always did. Stiles would wake up after the movie was over, everyone going home, and say something along the lines of 'good flick'. To which Derek would tease him for sleeping through most of it and use the drool on his shirt as evidence.

Derek didn't have a word to describe the feeling, didn't have the slightest clue as to what caused it, because it really didn't matter. The pack is pack, he was happy to see Stiles and everyone getting along so well, being so close, but it still bugged him.

After the movie was over, everyone did their share of cleaning up, said goodnight, and was out the door. Erica and Boyd being the last to go, as soon as the door was closed and locked, Derek sighed and his smile fell. This pit in his stomach only twisted more, when Stiles only gave him a one-word goodbye and offered Lydia a ride him.

"So," Isaac awkwardly swayed a little as Derek entered the kitchen. "Are you and Stiles fighting?"

"What?" Derek paused his stride through the room to stare at him.

"Well, tonight you guys," He studdered for a bit, the awkwardness he was feeling just asking very prevalent on his face. "Seemed off tonight. I don't know."

"No," Derek shook his head. "We're fine."

"Okay," Isaac clearly didn't believe him and bound up the stairs to his room.

Derek stood there for a moment and shook it off. He stuffed the feeling down like he did with almost anything unpleasant and went to bed.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

It was 11:43 pm. It was slightly rainy and cold out. Stars and the moon shone over the preserve, eliminating the front yard.

Derek stood in the kitchen leaning against the counter, watching out the window at the driveway. Sparing a glance at the clock every few minutes.

Isaac was late. Super late. Not answering his phone, not sending a single text.

He was about to give up waiting for something, anything when a familiar jeep rolled up the long dirt road and onto the gravel driveway.

"Man," He heard Isaac's faint voice from outside. "He's still up. I'm in deep shit."

Isaac followed with dragging feet as a very amused Stiles him and Scott up the front steps.

When they entered they kicked off their shoes and joined a very disappointed-looking Derek. He stood tall with his arms crossed over his chest. The three gathered in front of him awaiting hell to rain down, except Derek didn't fail to notice the subtle grin on Stile's face.

"You're late."

"Sorry, we lost track of time." Isaac pouted like a picked puppy.

"You have a phone."

"It died." He shrugged.

"Neither of you have phones?" Derek glared at the other two.

The three looked between themselves and gave each other the "why didn't we think of that" look.

Derek sighed pitifully, "If I ask you to be home by a reasonable hour I don't think that's too much to ask. Full moons right around the corner and-" He groaned pinching the bridge of his nose. "Don't worry me like this again, " He waved the topic away.

Issac nodded shamefully and muttered an apology. The fear of being reprimanded stayed firm in his eyes and stiff body. It almost made Derek feel guilty for being upset in the first place, but he knew he had every right to worry.

"It's fine." Derek shook his head. "I just need to know where you are or at least be able to get in touch with you if something happens. I was worried Isaac, I'm not mad."

Isaac nodded, taking a breath and relaxing his shoulders.

"How was the party?" Derek didn't care really, he just wanted Isaac to feel comfortable.

"Fun, the whole team was there. We got bored when everyone else was too drunk to even talk to so we bailed and got some food and Mami's Diner." Scott smiles recalling the evening.

"Yeah, parties aren't as fun when you can't get tipsy with everyone else."

"Too bad for you guys." Stiles sighed with a goofy grin. They all took their spots at the breakfast bar.

"You didn't drink a drop tonight though." Isaac pointed out.

"And trust one of you to drive my baby?" Stiles accused as if the two were actively planning a first-degree murder in front of him. They all merely chuckled at his dramatics and moved on from that.

"Derek," Scott started with a grimace. "Can I stay the night? Moms working a double and I don't wanna wake her getting home this late."

Derek shrugged, indifferent. He'd gotten the guestrooms ready from the rest of the back. Hell, any of them could show up wanting to spend the night, with no excuse or reason, and he'd be happy to have them. It's why the rooms are there.

"Me too!" Stiles piped up. "I have no reason, just too lazy to drive I guess."

Derek chuckled a little and welcomed them both to a guest room of their choosing.

Isaac excused himself to the bathroom to shower, as Derek led Scott and Stiles up the stairs. He showed off the finished rooms and let them pick and choose. Stiles picked the one next to his room, claiming dibs because the other room had a draft.

"How much work left is there?" Stiles asked mindlessly looking down the hall at the section of the house still covered in plastic to protect the new wood flooring. Tools, wood varnishes, and cans of paint sat out in the hall.

Derek motioned him down the hall as Scott, uninterested, entered the room on the other end and settled in for bed.

Stiles followed Derek into an unfinished bedroom and took a look around. Derek flicked on the lights he'd just wired and put in the other day. The drywall was fresh and the whole room was covered in plastic, tape guarding the fixings and crown molding. The room was nearly ready to be painted and furnished.

"Just need to fix the wiring to the other room, mount the shelving, and this window," Derek strolled over and giggled the latch. "Needs to be fixed or replaced at some point. It won't open."

Stiles nodded looking around and smiling to himself.

"Other than that, it's just fixing up the back porch and the half-bath downstairs." He turned to look at Stiles. "What?"

"Nothing," Stiles shrugged, smile never fading. "I'm just happy."

"About what?" Derek asked curiously approaching Stiles like he was about to get a pie in the face.

"I don't know. Just in a good mood tonight, I guess."

When Derek was close enough he stopped, twisting his head and pouting at a smell invading his nose. Stiles almost made a kicked puppy joke until he saw that something was defiantly bothering Derek.

"What is it?"

"You smell weird."

"Well, I was just at a party with about sixty or seventy drunk teenagers, so."

"No, it's," Derek stepped closer slowly, leaning in just enough into Stiles's personal space to not make him uncomfortable but close enough to get a good whiff of the insulting aroma. "You smell like-" Derek stopped and his face dropped a little, leaning back and eyeing a very confused Stiles.

"Never mind." He shook his head and turned the lights off as he walked out. "Goodnight, Stiles." He left Stiles standing there completely bewildered.

Derek locked himself up in his room and changed into sweats before climbing into bed. All with a deep frown dragging his features down.

Stiles smelled like arousal. Like sex. But it clearly wasn't Stiles's scent.

Stiles smelled like someone else's arousal.

Derek racked his barian all night who that prick could've been. Why was that prick all riled up and close enough to rub his lasting odor on him? Was Stiles dancing with someone at the party? Did Stiles make out with someone at the party?

At that question, his mind supplied him the images of Stiles bumping and grinding with some random dude, hands on Stiles's hips, moving and swaying with him. The creep Kissing up on Stiles's neck and lips and offering to go somewhere private.

Derek turned onto his side and shoved his head in under the pillow, hiding from the thoughts as he let himself be taken by sleep.

But that night all he dreamed about was chasing some faceless vermin through the woods; hunting him like he was nothing more than a feral wild wolf, despite still being completely human in the dream.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Danger came to Beacon Hills in the shape of Faeries.

Tiny winged spirits with a knack for trickery and mayhem. Derek wasn't sure how they ended up in Beacon Hills if they've just been migrating this way, or if someone let them loose. But people were getting hurt by their 'pranks' so they had to put a stop to it.

Tricking Faries was not an easy job in the slightest. But they managed it after a long night of chasing and fighting, finally trapping the three in silver cages and handing them over to Deaton; who swore he knew how to handle them and remove them from Beacon Hills safely.

The pack headed separate ways and most of them followed Derek back to the house. They arrived home just as the sun began to come up. Derek, still too anxious and worked up to sleep, went straight to work on the downstairs bathroom. He began preparing the grout to lay the tiles in place on the floor.

As he was checking the leveling of the pitch, he heard Stiles, "Need some help."

"Not really," Derek shrugged. It was a small bathroom, only enough room for one person to stand comfortably in between the sink and the toilet. Stiles sighed and started backing away.

Derek frowned and shook his head, not meaning to have come across as cold as he did.

"Actually, you can pass me tiles?" He offered, trying to brighten his tone. Stiles was plopped down just outside the doorway in a second. He smiled v\softly, almost unnoticeable, if it hadn't been for the fact that Derek noticed every detail about Stiles.

"You all grumpy with me for not staying behind like you said?"

"I'm not grumpy." He defended. Stiles gave him a look. "Yes." He sighed as if he was admitting to something as embarrassing as wetting the bed until you're fifteen.

Stiles chuckled, watching him work.

"You're not the only one that worries about everyone you know." Derek spared him a loot while reaching for a tile. "I know I'm human, der. You don't have to remind me that I don't heal, and I'm in more danger than most of you, but I still get this feeling that if I'm not there-"

Derek paused what he was doing to sit back and give Stiles his attention. Stiles started at him for a bit before continuing.

"I want to be there to look after you guys too. We've had close calls before, and nearly lost people. If I cared any less I'd listen to you when you tell me to stay back and out of the way, but I just have thing feeling that I need to be there in case something happens."

Derek gave him a sad smile. "And what if that something happens to you?"

Stiles frowned and lowered his head, shrugging. "If I can help, there's not really anything you can do to stop me from trying."

"Yeah," Derek nodded. "So I've learned."

Stiles chuckled and handed Derek another tile, smiling at him as he took the subtle hint the conversation had ended and turned back to laying the tiles in place. Stiles watched him intently, adoring the alpha.

"You got any plans tonight?" Stiles sighed when he was bored of the quiet.

"Back porch is fixed up, might get someone to help me put together the table, and cheers I ordered. Maybe fire up the grill?"

"That sounds fun." Stiles nodded, a look on his face like he was considering his options.

"You got a better idea?" Derek teased, because Stiles always had something to say about the activities Derek came up with.

"No, I just," He paused and thought to himself a moment. "I met this dude at the party the other night, and he texted me earlier asking if I'd be down to meet up later tonight."

Derek's heart sank a little. Oh, that prick.

"Oh," Derek nodded. He didn't wanna ask questions, he didn't wanna know. So Stiles just nodded.

"If it doesn't take too long I'll swing by after." Stiles delivered the empty promise with a grin. "Save some food for me."

Derek only nodded.

Stiles never showed.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Derek was in a bad mood.

Everyone in the house felt it and kept to their best behavior.

He didn't scowl or glare, he didn't yell or stomp around, he just kept his head down and mouth shut.

It was a Thursday night, and his betas had come over after the Lacross game like they always did. Boyd having joined the team, came along with the other players plus Erica, after every game. Although Jackson never showed, he only made an appearance when Lydia did.

Except tonight was different. Stiles hadn't come.

Apparently, Stiles was invited by the guy he met at the party to hang out after the game. A date.

He got all this from Erica who told him with a look of pity and confusion etched into her feature. Derek said nothing, just nodded, and went on making dinner for those who did show.

After eating they settled into the living room and watched a movie Derek wasn't paying attention to. He'd been on autopilot half the night, stuck in his head wondering about where Stiles was and what he was up to.

He didn't understand why he felt sick in his gut that Stiles was out with someone else.

It just made him feel dizzy with something he didn't have a word for. Every time he pictured Stiles laughing at the guy jokes, playing footsy under the table, holding hands on the walk back to the car, kissing on his front step- his chest tightened painfully.

He knew what this disgusting feeling was now, and he felt pathetic for it.

Derek stood and without a word went up to his room and crawled into bed.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Summer break had officially arrived and Derek was having the boys help him set up the pools in the back yard.

He hadn't seen Stiles in the past few days and it's been both wonderful and absolute agony. He was grateful to have a break from seeing Stiles's smile and shining eyes, hating knowing it was never for him. But he missed it all the same.

Either way, the space between them allowed Derek the room he needed to rebuild his walls. If Stiles was dating this other guy fine, Derek hadn't had a chance anyway. He'd very his heart and settle for just being pack.

The girls sat on the front steps far enough away from the guys on the other side to not hear their conversation. Even with super wolfy hearing.

"So, what happened?" Allison eyed the two who clearly knew more than she did. Both of them are closer to Stiles and Derek, respectively. "I was under the assumption they'd be giving us invitations to the wedding by graduation."

Erica chuckled sadly, "I don't know. But you should've seen Derek when I told him Stiles ditched us to go hang out with Markus."

"I don't know what's gotten into Stiles," Lydia grumbled, she hated being left out of the loop. "Just last month I was giving him advice on how to woo a man. Mind you, Markus was not the man I thought he'd be running off to woo."

"I don't think anyone thought that." Allison sighed.

"It's weird," Erica grumbled. "The past few days honestly feel like my parents are divorced. I only see either or, Stiles gets us on the weekends." Lydia laughed.

"How does that work?" Allison questioned.

"I don't know," The blonde shrugged leaning back on her hands. "I've never really asked. But it's all sort of instinctual. Like Derek is the alpha, he gives orders and dishes out punishments. Stiles is there to comfort our wounds and give Derek a smack upside the head if he's too hard on us."

"Instinctual?" Lydia grimaced. "Wait, like even your wolf thinks Stiles and Derek were on the road to being a thing?"

"Well," Erica sat up and frowned. "Honestly, before Stiles ran off with Merkus after the game and I told Derek about it, I thought they already were. It just made sense. Isaac said something a little while ago when I came over cause 'Mom and Dad are fighting again'. We all just kinda felt it I guess."

"Huh," Allison thought. Lydia smiled, the other two girls eyeing her suspiciously.

"What are you thinking?" Allison asked carefully.

"Oh," She smiled watching a blur jeep pull up the driveway. "Right on queue. Follow my lead ladies."

The two spared a look at each other before watching Stiles climb out of the jeep plastic bag in hand and a box-taped shut- under his arm.

"Hey, where is everyone?" Stiles eyed the house while approaching the girls.

"Outback." Erica supplied with a nod of her head.

"Surprised to see you showed up." Lydia offered, standing and going inside without giving him a chance to respond.

Allison followed without a word and Erica, slightly confused, gave him a quick look before rushing to follow. She didn't understand what Lydia's plan was but he didn't exactly wanna be left alone with him. She was not a fan of awkward situations.

Stiles stood there slightly hurt and very confused.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked following the girls into the kitchen. "What did I do now?" He busied himself unpacking the baked goods into the snack cupboard and the sunscreen he'll be needing later on the counter. He took a second to tuck the box off the side in the corner out of the way.

"It's nothing, Stiles." Lydia sighed, as though she was more hurt than anything else. The other two followed her mellow demeanor and avoided looking at Stiles.

"Okay," Stiles groans, getting a little paranoid. "So either I did something stupid and you're angry with me, or I did something really stupid and hurt your feelings?"

"Stiles," Lydia warned, lifting her hand to stop him from talking. "I don't wanna talk about it here, it's not my place."

"Heh," Stile let out a dry chuckle. "Since when is it not your place to talk about things I did to hurt you?"

"Cause you didn't exactly hurt me." Lydia put up a good front of being frustrated and emotionally exhausted.

The two were so focused on each other, that no one but Allison saw Erica's eyes widen and head start to shake as she motioned to the doorway leading out the back of the house.

"So I did do something stupid and hurt someone's feelings." Stiles nodded like he was finally getting to the bottom of it. "What happened?"

"Stiles," Lydia gave him a firm glare like it was supposed to be obvious what he did. Stiles just freaked out a bit at the knowing accusation in her tone and shrugged exasperated. "You broke things off with Derek!" She said louder than she really needed to.

Stiles blinked, obviously confused. "What?"

Erica cleared her throat, making the two look towards her and Allison who just started at something over their shoulders shifting awkwardly.

Stiles, mouth still slack with complete and utter confusion followed their gaze and looked to see Isaac and Derek standing there looking just as awkward. Well maybe, that was more Isaac.

"Um," Isaac cleared his throat daring a glance at Derek who stood completely still and stoic. "Pools ready."

Stiles looked around at each face in the room, all of them looking at him with uncertainty and then to Derek with sympathy.

"What?" Stiles asked again more exasperated. He gave everyone a look one last time before addressing the room as a whole, "There wasn't ever any breaking things off, me and Derek were never together."

"You weren't?" Issac asked completely unsure, looking to Derek for confirmation.

"Yea-" Stiles rolled his tongue along his lips and put his hands on his hips like an offended mother. "I think I'd remember being all up on that." He motioned to Derek who only raised a brow.

"Oh," Isaac nodded, still unsure. "You hen you and Markus... " He trailed off.

"Huh," Now Stiles looked really offended. "As if."

Lydia laughed at the unintended reference before she quieted herself and motioned the girls to ditch the awkward air with her. They all, as though if they moved too fast someone would be angry, stepped out into the hall and went the long way around back, through the front door.

"What is happening?" Stiles looked to the two completely bewildered as to where any of this was coming from all of a sudden.

"Um," Isaac looked to Derek who hadn't moved an inch. "I'm gonna-"

"Hold it!" Stiles raised his hand and pointed an accusatory finger at him. Isaac stopped in his attempt to back out of the room, frozen in place. "What the hell is all this drama about?"

"Um-"

"Say 'um' one more time, I'm gonna burn your scarf."

"Wh-" Isaac pouted for a moment before awkwardly shuffling between his two feet. "We kinda all thought you and Derek were, um-" He froze and dared a glance at a very unamused Stiles and an increasingly amused Derek. "Together, and you've been spending a lot of time with that Markus guy so we figured you two split-"

"That's enough." Stiles waved him away. Isaac was grateful and ran out back without a second glance.

Stiles sighed, facing Derek with a blank stare. Derek looked even more amused about all of this now that everyone was gone.

"You think this is funny?"

"I didn't realize that's the conclusion the pack came to." Was all he said.

"Well, we should probably make some things clear before the kids side with you in the divorce." Stiles scored playfully trying to hide his nervousness. He really didn't expect this to be the way he ended up addressing his and Derek's relationship.

"You think they'd take my side?" Derek raised a brow. "You're the one that spoils them."

Stiles just laughed, it's all he could do. They were standing ten feet apart, dancing around the subject.

Derek took a whiff of the air and smiled at the scent of stiles that became more and more permanent every time he came over. If it weren't for the past few days, and Isaac living here, Stiles was here the most out of everyone.

"So," Derek tried to think of the jerk's name, "Markus, you guys aren't," He made and gesture with his hands, looking away from Stiles.

"No, god no."

"Right," He nodded, "Cause when you came home from that party, you smelled like. . ."

"What?" Stiles tilted his head. He remembered being left in the dark room wondering what made Derek look so uncomfortable, and actually a little angry. He had a hard time trying to sleep cause his mind kept asking questions.

"A stranger, and sex." Derek put it bluntly. Stiles's eyes bulged out of his head and Derek almost laughed.

"What? No," Stiles recoiled in shock, not expecting him to say that.

"Then you started leaving us behind to go hand out with this guy you met at the party." Drek shrugged.

"The dude I met is not-" He stopped himself from saying the word, it sounded too absurd. "I met Markus, he was DD'ing for his friends, we got to talking. He offered to pay me to help him study. That's it!"

Derek nodded in understanding. He didn't need to hear Stile's heartbeat to tell that was the truth.

"Must have been a good amount of money for you to ditch the pack twice," Derek said, not really making it a question. Stiles chewed on his lip as Derek approached the kitchen island and leaned on it. "What?"

Stiles sighed turning to grab the box and placing it on the island and slinging it over to Derek. "The allowance I get from Dad every now and then wouldn't have been enough."

Derek stared at him for a moment before turning his attention to the box curiously and carefully opening it.

"It's just a housewarming gift," Stiles shuffled in place, looking anywhere but Derek.

Derek looked down in the box at stacks of plates and bowls, cups, all individually wrapped. Derek took a plate and gently tore it free from the plastic wrap, examining the intricate royal blue patterns along the edges, and the vibrant red and yellow flowers painted in the center. The flowers are arranged in the vague shape of a wolf, with leaves surrounding it like a nest. The dish was glossy, polished, and shinny, and smelled of somewhere old but clean. turning it over he saw painted in very neat handwriting, "The family is One of Nature's Masterpieces. Proberty of Hale, made by A. Bartosz."

Derek looked up to Stiles who started at the plat in his hands.

"Um, they're hand-painted, I went to a place out in Allens Town. A polish place. You've been using paper plates and stuff so I figured," Stile trailed briefing a look at Derek before returning his gaze to the plate. "In Poland, there's a belief that the beauty of the dish enriches the flavor of the food. You're always cooking for everyone so I thought-" Stiles cut himself off with a sigh and scratched the back of his neck.

Derek carefully set down the plate and walked around to Stiles who was still looking anywhere but him.

Next thing Stiles knew, he was warm. Really warm. Warm around his waist from Derek's arm, warm in his cheek where Derek held, warm on his lips where Derek kissed.

Stiles melted against him with a relieved sigh. It felt like he was in a dream he never wanted to wake up from. A dream the never thought would come true, no matter how many times Lydia told him to go for it.

He lifted his hands and placed them firmly on Derek's chest, one sliding further up to the base of his neck. He had no idea what he was doing, and he was fairly certain Derek knew it based on the rumble of laughter in his chest. But he followed Derek's lead and soon found a rhythm that made Stiles's knees weak.

When Derek finally pulled away, Stiles straight-up whined in protest, earning a chuckle from the alpha.

"Thank you," He smiled softly stroking Stiles's cheek with his thumb.

Stiles was giddy at the affection, smiling dreamily up at Derek. It made something in Derek stir back to life. The walls he tried to build back up the past few days crumbled down around him as Stiles pushed up into another kiss, hands coming up around his neck and into his hair. Derek hugged and his waist and pulled his impossibly closer, sighing in contentment.

"No," They heard a sudden shout, pulling apart and looking to the back door. Erica was moving away with her back to them heading back into the yard. "They're busy eating each other faces!"

"Oh, my god." Stiles groaned. Derek only chuckled turning back to Stiles and pulling him back in.

≫ ────── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ────── ≪

•Kermitts Masterlist•

[horsechestnut]

I think my ideal Steph, Cass, and Tim dynamic would be that they're all best friends, but they can not all hang out together. Like, if you ask any one of them who their best friend is they genuinely will not be able to pick between the other two, but all three of them together triggers each of their insecurities in the worst way and always leads to a fight.

Like, Steph and Cass are so affectionate with each other, and constantly flirting and Tim assumes their teasing, but what if they're not, and oh god is he third wheeling on a date between his ex-girlfriend and his sister? They don't actually want him here, they invited him to be nice and he was to oblivious to realize it wasn't genuine. He should leave. But before he can come up with a believable excuse they've changed topics and... hang on, did Steph just say her dad threw a book at her once? Because so much of Steph and Cass's relationship is built on an understanding that they won't make a big deal when they mention something messed up about their past that they just say stuff like that, but Tim does not have that same understanding. So Tim hears that and instead of rolling with it, it's "Steph you can't just say that like it's not a big deal... why is Cass laughing? You can't laugh at that it's fucked up! I don't care that it was a long time ago!" And now Cass is confused and Steph is angry and Tim feels like shit for probably ruining what they wanted to be a date and frustrated that he's being treated like he's overreacting despite being the only one with a normal reaction to child abuse. Mostly he's terrified that he screwed this whole thing up somehow and neither of them is going to want to hang out with him again.

Meanwhile Steph and Tim are so intrinsically linked to each other. They've shared things they will never share with anyone else, they were each others first love. And Cass understands that, she does, but it's hard sometimes seeing how easy they are with each other. The way Steph knows Tim's upset without having to read his body langue the way Cass does or Tim can predict exactly how late Steph will be to any given situation. More than that though, what truly makes her want to hide away from them, is the history they both had but didn't share. The sly comments about Tim looking like a character Cass has never heard of or jokes that make no sense but send Steph into laughing fits. The kind that when she asks are brushed off with "it was an old meme" or "just a show from when we were kids". The reminders that she isn't normal, she can never really be like them. If she doesn't ask most of the time it doesn't occur to them to explain, it seems so obvious to them. They start doing a synchronized dance from some movie that came out when they were in middle school and Cass slips away into the shadows. Later she gets a string of concerned text that slowly turn angry when she doesn't answer. Cass never tells them what was wrong.

And it's hard for Steph to look at Cass and Tim and not feel jealous, because more than just being friends, they're siblings. They are full members of the club, Bruce's children, let into the fold in a way she never can be. She doesn't even want to be anymore if she's being honest, but it still stings. They'll casually mention family dinner or reference inside jokes from the last Wayne charity whatever and Steph will feel the growing desire in her chest that she can not, under any circumstances, let anyone see. The desire that has caused her so much pain, she will not give it control over her again. And Cass calls Tim Robin sometimes, and he calls Cass Batgirl in return, and Steph has to bite back the urge to scream at them that she was Robin too! She is also a Batgirl! But it doesn't matter because she wasn't Cass's Robin or Tim's Batgirl, and it drives her insane that they're romanticizing that time, because don't they remember how much of an asshole Bruce was back then? And now Tim is mad at her for bring up the past as if they're not the ones who started it, and Cass is assuring her that Bruce has changed, and maybe he has, but it's to fucking late! He already ruined any chance of Steph every feeling fully comfortable with her place in their lives. So she storms off, fuming, leaving a baffled Tim and Cass to go enjoy their stupid family dinner.

So yeah, they are best friends. They all love each other more than they know how to say, and trust each other more than anyone else in the world. But they can never all hang out together. That only ever ends in disaster.

[rantingravingliving]

Servings of sass

from The Park Jimin is what you need to get through hump day and the rest of the week. Enjoy SassyMin with a side of iconic lines from movies and TV.

"I'm sorry that people are so jealous of me... but I can't help it that I'm so popular." - Mean Girls

"What, like it's hard?" - Legally Blonde

"You are an awful person." "Maybe, but I'm rich and I'm pretty so it doesn't really matter." - Scream Queens

"Ugh, as if!" - Clueless

“Hello, my name is Fabulous.” - Sex and The City

"A-ca-scuse me? Synchronized lady dancing to a Mariah Carey chart-topper is not lame!" - Pitch Perfect

"By all means, move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me." - The Devil Wears Prada

"I'm not doing anything else for men today." - That 70s Show

“Listen up, fives! A TEN is speaking!” - 30 Rock

"I'm a cold goddess." - High Society

"Maybe I am a total bitch did you ever think about that?" - Gossip Girl

"Honey, I don’t look. I’m looked at." - Will and Grace

[taey0ngsvape]

all the scars, they’re leaving

“you’ll be dancing once again, and the pain will end”

pairing: renjun x gn!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, comfort

word count: 1.1k

contains: so much fluff, reader can drive, mentions of food (ice cream

summary: renjun just wants to make you smile

a/n: this was requested and i tried to make it as soft as possible. loosely inspired by chiquitita by abba, it’s just such a fun song

~

By the time Renjun gets home from practice for the day, you’ve already changed into pajamas. To be fair, it was nearly 10 o’clock (which was considered early for Renjun these days) and you had already been tired all day. You hadn’t even bothered to cook anything for dinner and opted for leftovers instead. Renjun had texted earlier about eating at rehearsal so once you knew he’d eaten you discarded any plans of cooking something for him and got changed.

At first, you wanted to go straight to bed, but you wanted to wait for Renjun to get home. He’d been so busy recently that any time where you both were at the apartment at the same time was precious and you didn’t want to waste a second of it.

So you grab a fluffy blanket and curl up on the couch to wait, putting on one of your favorite comfort movies. Taking the time to just relax was already helping, the one thing that could make you feel even better though, would be if your boyfriend was with you.

Lucky for you, just as you begin to really miss him and feel your mood dipping, you hear the front door unlock and open. A smile creeps onto your face and you sit up on the couch, stretching a bit before going to the door to greet Renjun.

He breaks into a grin when he sees you, slipping off his shoes before closing the door and opening his arms so you can hug him. As soon as he has you in his embrace, you let out a content sigh. His chest is warm and his t-shirt is soft against your cheek as you rest against him. 

“Hi Love,” he says, rubbing slow circles on your back and he lets you hug him for as long as you need, holding you to his chest the whole time.

“How was practice?” you ask, finally pulling away.

“It was good, we’re actually ahead in terms of learning the choreo. We were all so in tune with each other today.”

You smile, you know the hardest part of learning new choreography is synchronization so you’re glad they managed it so easily today. 

“How was your day?” Renjun asks and you see the way his smile falters as you shrug your shoulders. “Did something happen?” he asks.

“No, it just… wasn’t the best, I guess.” You try your best to sound nonchalant about it, you don’t want to concern him, especially not after he had such a great day. “But it’s okay. It’s over and now you’re here,” you say, your smile returning. 

“You know what could make it even better?” Renjun asks, eyes sparkling.

“What?”

His smile widens. “Ice cream.”

You can’t help but mirror his smile. “As good as that sounds, I don’t think we have any in the freezer.”

Renjun just shrugs. “Field trip?”

You laugh a little. On one hand, you’re already wearing pajamas, but on the other, you really do want ice cream and you and Renjun haven’t gone anywhere together in a while. He’s always either busy, or it’s a busy time of day. You can’t even go grocery shopping with him out of caution. But late at night everywhere is less busy and you’re much less likely to be approached by anyone. It’s on these nights when sometimes you feel almost normal with him. It’s a feeling you treasure.

“Let me put on some sweatpants,” you say and Renjun’s grin widens.

“You can borrow one of my hoodies if you want,” he offers and even though it’s warm enough to go without, you slip one on anyway. You love wearing his clothes so you’d never turn down the opportunity.

Once you’ve gathered your things, you grab your car keys and Renjun’s hand before exiting the apartment. He intertwines his fingers with yours, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand. It’s comforting, like a gentle reminder that he’s here and he just wants to make you feel better.

You lead him to your car, illuminated by the streetlight outside your apartment. You let Renjun pick the music as you start the car. He settles on a chill driving playlist and you head to the nearest grocery store, less than 5 minutes from your place.

You park near the front and Renjun takes your hand again as you walk up to the store. There are other cars in the lot though, so he squeezes your hand three times before letting go. You’re used to moments like this and even though it’s upsetting, you understand why he has to do it.

Inside, you forgo a cart and Renjun just grabs a basket from the stack. You know your way around this grocery store by now so you head for the frozen section. Already debating what kind of ice cream you want to get. 

When you reach the row of freezers, Renjun leads the way, scanning the shelves of ice cream when he hears you gasp.

“Oh my god they’re playing Shakira,” you say, a wide grin spreading across your face. Sure enough, “Whenever Wherever” by Shakira is playing over the grocery store speakers. Renjun laughs a little at your sudden excitement and his smile only grows as you begin to sing along softly moving to the melody of the song. 

He sets the basket down and extends his hand to you. His hand feels warm in your own and your smile widens as he dances with you. You can’t help but laugh when the chorus begins and he twirls you around. 

You feel a little silly dancing in the aisle of a grocery store, but it’s nothing compared to the love you have for Renjun. So you ignore the slight embarrassment when someone walks past the aisle and turns the other away and just focus on your boyfriend and the fondness his eyes hold when he looks at you. There’s so much joy in such a simple moment and as he twirls you again, you let any lingering stress wash away because even though you know your life isn’t perfect, it’s not all smooth sailing, you can still find happiness in moments like these, and that’s enough.

nct dream masterlist

[cutielatias]

Text about Rio2 (Was Blu and Jewel meant to split up on rio2?)

i Saw a very interesting comment about this Rio2 related to that Blu and jewel, on the comment the person questions If them are the only one that feels that Blu and Jewel were meant to "split up" on the second movie, on that, the person said that them feel that the creators/directors wanted to show what happens after with relationships that exist on base of a necessity/surviving and How this relationships can quickly falls apart on the moment that those necessities doesn't exist anymore/are not necessary, and how them feel that Blu and Jewel are meant to end up apart at the end of the movie and that Rio2 story was actually about divorcie, and watching the movie again ( a bit older), It does exist a lot of scenes/"hints" that do give me a kinda of divorcie aspect and just shows how much Blu and Jewel was a pair that was never meant to be and shows how much they don't combine with each other anymore(not like they did combine in the first place actually😑🙄) and that they relationship only existed on base of a surviving/necessity (which is something that happens with a lot of couples on real life, on the movie the reason of them being/getting in engaged is because of this whole thing of both of they being the last macaws, but on real life the thing that always unite two people that doesn't combine with each other,but still end up married, is money/a type of financial necessity), this text will be basically me pointing out everything that i noticed that gives me a divorce aspect + me talking about a lot of moments where shows how much Blu and Jewel is a slightly "toxic" pair and how much they doesn't sound right together/they doesn't seem to love each other anymore(aka Jewel being a b*tch, but lets try to don't hate much on her).So here we go! This is going to be big💦

•Introduction/Dancing scene

The way that Blu and jewel dance with with each other, jewel slightly running away/getting away time to time from him, almost as If she is leaving him behind and the way that Blu doesn't seem to keep up with her moves(almost foreshadow their relationship/dynamic), their dance is pretty chaotic and not very synchronize, almost as If show how much this two doesn't seem to have a harmony, cuz both are very different(maybe this just a way of the movie shows the differences between Blu as a domestic macaw and jewel as a wild one, but still a bit of a weird aspect for a couple dance);

one scene that i always finded a bit strange was a moment where Blu is dancing and jewel laughs at him, at first you watch this scene and you can even find a bit cute, but the way that scene is, the camera angle, why the scene only focus on this jewel face/reaction?( not showing Blue) almost as If is something that only us as an audience can see/notice, Blu doesn't seem to have noticed her reaction...i find a bit specific, and why she laughs at his dance? ok, maybe because the dance is funny and a bit...odd? But very specific, for me It feels like she finds him a bit silly and embarassing( sometimes when i slow down the scene i almost feel like she do a bit of a "sad" embarassing face, but maybe i seeing things) maybe is just that classic thing of "he such a dorky but he's my dorky and i love him<3" but idk, that's not the vibration that i feel on this scene, i feel more like she finds him funny, but more due to the fact that she doesn't truly understand his way/not much sure about him, but she plays along with it/"accept It", then after we have their dialogue:

"Looks like you stuck with me all night"

"You my one and only Blu"

"That's a good thing, since i'm the only other one"

(this dialogue will be more important when we get to the deleted version of their arguing) this dialogue reforces even more how much their relationship seem to rely a lot by the fact of both being the only of their specie, cuz after the moment that Blu is not the only macaw anymore/ jewel's "only", she doesn't stick with him anymore and little by little she doesn't seem to need/care about his company, and their relationship starts to slowly fall apart; Then next we get the introduction of their kids, then we have a moment where one of their children says that Blu never approves anything and that he always say "no", so Blu asks jewel if It is true that he always says "no" and then she answers with a "yes" as If she wasn't even paying attention to what he was asking her and she just deduce that whatever he was saying the answer was "yes" and then she quickly correct herself when she sees his expression, and then she answers with a "no" (i mean, i bet this scene exist to be a bit of a comedy reliaf) but its a bit weird on context, cuz seem to show that jewel seem to ignore Blu or that she doesn't seem to pay attention to him, especially on what he says, the scene gets even more weirder when we remember the scene before(their dancing scene) cuz makes you even question If this jewel really mean it the things that she said or if she even pays attention to Blu and on the things that he says or if she's not just answering what he wants to hear [this dialogue itself is a bit odd, that thing of Blu always says no, i think its just the movie showing how much Blu is a bit neurotic and that he doesn't like dangerous/new things due of him being a domestic bird]

•The Discovering of more Macaws

The way that jewel gets very excited and almost emocional when she discovers that maybe they're not the only ones and comparing to Blu, he gets happy too, but he seems to get even a bit sad/offended by her reaction, he even says to her that they being the only ones wasn't all that bad, because they had each other and their being the only ones was the reason that they meet, but this shows that even though jewel had Blu she didn't feel very belonging with him, and deep down she wishes to get to know/have the company of macaws that were more similar to her

•Boat scene

"Hey, thank you for doing this, I really appreciated It"

"I would do anything for you, you know that, right?"

"of course i do"

I find the way that this jewel thanks Blu on that scene a bit off, doesn't seem like a wife thanking her husband, the way that she says, its a bit distant, doesn't even seem like Blu is her husband/partner, and the way of the dialogue, she doesn't include him much, like "thanks you for doing this, i know its hard for you, but i really appreciated It" or "i really wanted you to be part of this" she doesn't seem to include him much, like, doesn't even feel like they at this together as a couple doing a "family vacation", looks like this is more of jewels only wish/something only to do with her(and that doesn't include both), give the energy of an arranged couple thanking each other(though they are married is not like they are two people that got together because they had a true bond so everything feels very distant, can exist the gratitude/appreciation sometimes, but is very distant still); The Blu answer, he answers with "i would do anything for you, you know that, right?" almost as If he gets like, "i am your husband, of course i would do, i love you and want you happy, why you think i wouldn't do that?" giving a vibe that jewel doesn't seem to see her relationship with Blu as something very serious/serious partner, for her their relationship is more for a necessity and not because they really are a couple or are together because they love and care for each other; the way that jewel looks at Blu when he says " i would do anything for you, you know that" she looks with a slightly sad face for a moment, almost as if she feels a bit bad for Blu cuz she feels that he really likes her/takes this as a serious relationship and that she doesn't feel much the same;

the scene before is also a bit weird, the difference between jewel relieved and exciting saying goodbye to the sticky air of the city and Blu getting a bit surprise by her reaction, and also saying goodbye to the city air, but with a more sad tone, just showing how much this two are very different and for the happiness of the other, one needs to be unhappy( jewel by living on the city/living in a human way being that she doesn't seem to like It and she prefers the wild and Blu needing to leave the city to being obligeted to live on the wild that he doesn't like at all)

•Roberto Introduction

The Introduction of this Roberto, Blu asks jewel why she never told him about this Roberto, showing that she doesn't seem to talk much about her past with blu and how little he actually knows about her(and the same can be said for this jewel relatable to Blu, though we don't see that on the movie);

The scene after this "beautiful creature", for a moment Blu puts jewel more closer to him and she looks at him with a very annoyed look, on that scene i will try to bear with that jewel because i think that the reason why she was looking angry at him was more due to what he was saying, Blu saying his human things, asking If It had any human place that they could stay, being that they are on the wild...and till this moment the others didn't know that Blu was a domesticated macaw so i don't think that she was angry cuz of his action of putting her closer to him, It had more to do with what he was saying, but anyways this shows that his way seem to annoy/irritates her, which is not very nice

•Night scene/"This changes everything"

On that moment jewel say how much all of those years she never allowed herself to believe that her family could be alive, but they are, and that now they finded their family, and that this changes everything(i confess that i don't understand what she really meant with that on the situation of the movie) and Then Blu questions her with " What you mean? What's changing?"and then she had already fall asleep letting Blu with no answer... a pretty weird dialogue/scene, cuz makes it seems that this changes something, well, for me what changes is that now jewel finding her (true) family she doesn't need to live on the sanctuary anymore and that now she don't need to rely only on Blu, and also a way the movie already insinuate that now their relationship is going to change/their lifes are about to change

•Morning scene/ jewel doesn't wake up Blu

Jewel don't wakes Blu up even though she could it because she was already awake, Blu seem to get a bit upset with her, very subtle, but it shows already a bit of a distance aspect/their relationship getting a bit off, though jewel answers that the reason why that she didn't wake him up is because he always sleep late, but the fact that she didn't seem to care about him/give him a good impression, being that was very clear that he was having problems with her family, especially with her father, shows how little she cares or values him cuz she didn't even bother herself to try to make him feel more included/part of the tribe;

Then jewels convices Blu to leave his belt bag, they have a bit a slightly "romantical" moment, but the moment that he takes his eyes out of her, she is already leaving with the kids(this scene is a bit strange, makes this jewel seems very manipulative, it's like she "seduce" Blu to convince him of doing certain things(and Blu simp always fell for it) and then after he agrees, she just goes away and leaves him cuz now he had already accept it, so it has no turning back (this seem to be a bit of a "thing"/dynamic of this pair) the end of the scene is very weird, with him not even finishing his phrase "happy wife,happy life"(very specific be this phrase) and then he just goes away with a bit of a weird out tone

•Jewel's wild way + mosquito scene

After the training, Blu comes back and then he see jewel eating some fruits, and then he gets a bit shocked by the way that she agressively eats them and with the way that she looks, it seems like Blu is starting to noticing a side of jewel that he haven't see before, a not so graceful/attractive, instead a more wild/savage one, at first he just gets a bit surprise, but then, we have the mosquito scene, where jewels eats a whole insect and then Blu gets freak out, he is starting to get a bit freaked by jewel's new way, he is starting to noticing parts of her that he didn't like /don't find very attractive, she is starting to becoming less attractive to his eyes (which is also something to point out, It seems that Blu only sees jewel by a superficial level, It seems that his attraction towards her comes more for her beauty than her attitude/personality, and now that she is not sounding that attractive he doesn't see to like It)

•Sunset dialogue

"Maybe some places shouldn't be found, maybe they should just be left alone"

This scene is very weird, because though this jewel is talking about the Forest, i always feel that this dialogue is refering about something else too; For me this dialogue seems to show the mentality of her's/the way that she prefers to deal with things, If we imagine a divorcie scenario, It looks like Blu is the one that notices that their relationship is not working anymore and he seems to be the one that trys to talk/thinks more about their getting separate( both about their relationship getting weird and about they getting a divorcie) and jewel being the one that just prefer to lets things on the way that they are, like, don't thinks much about that or dont talk much about It (always exist this conflict between couples that are divorcing, always exist a side that notices that the relationship is not working anymore and they should get separate, and the other that doesn't want to get into a divorcie, but also doesn't try/want to work out the relationship)

•Blu and jewel sleeps separately

On the dream scene, we can cleary see that blu and jewel sleeps a bit far from each other and it's not like they couldn't animate them sleeping more closer, its a bit specific, especially since they used to sleep together on the beggining of the movie, It seems that more their are on the jungle/more life starts to get more confortable to jewel, more distant they become from each other

•Jewel doesn't believes on Blu

The scene speaks for itself, jewel doesn't seems to believe in Blu or thinks that he's capable of doing things, and now Blu is starting to noticing this about her, that she isn't honest with him and that she doesn't seems to be on his side/believes on his potencial

•Blu and Jewel arguing (original + deleted version)

The movie version is a bit more clueless, cuz it seems that the movie trys to hard to makes It seem that Blu conflict is about him wanting to impress jewel's dad and wanting to be a part of the "tribe", making the situation more about himself and less about his relationship with her,the movie trys to hide the "true" reasons of why Blu did those things, Blu true reason of doing all of that was due to him feeling that jewel is leaving him and also him wanting to prove to himself that he's jewel's "one and only" and that their relationship still worthy and that nothing has changed between them; But the deleted version has a lot of divorcie vibration, the way Blu says that "I've been trying só hard jewel, i can't do it anymore" really gives a divorcie vibration, he tried to make to make things work, he tried to pretend that everything was fine, but now he can't pretend anymore, he can't pretend that everything is fine and that he's not feeling unhappy (with her);

the dialogue " I thought i was your one and only, but i guess i was your only one" is very heavy, and really gives a vibe of couples that doesn't work anymore/doesn't seem love each other, and that only existed because it seems to be the only option at the time/was what it feels right at the moment

•Cabin scene/ending

When we get into this part of the movie, things starts to get a bit crazy/nonsense(i remember me kid watching the movie and finding this part a bit off) what was meant to be the scene of Blu finding Linda to go back to Rio, out of nowhere becomes a goodbye scene? Ah, which moment Blu gives the ideia that now he would left all of his human things/domestic "traits" to become 100% wild bird? when did that happend? Because i didn't saw any of that; The way that everything gets easily resolved, fast solutions for very big conflicts, the way that out of nowhere this Roberto becomes a comedy relief character and starts to act all crazy, but on any moment of the movie we see this change/the reason of this change of behavior, its seems to me that this was a way of the movie to make Roberto becomes less attractive and to take him out of the way of blu's relationship with jewel, and makes Blu looks better than him, the scene where jewel says that she's not leaving and that Blu is her family, being that from the scenes before this is not exactly what we see/feel, the soccer conflict is also completely ignore, the Blue macaws lose it the game/their part of the forest,but this is never mentions it again, everything is very nonsense; well, anyway, this part of the movie is very off, i feel that here the movie loses his track with this divorcie story, but It doesn't mean that don't have it moments;

a moment where shows a close up of the wedding photo of Tulio and linda + Blu and jewel, but with the portrait being broken and dirt(especially on Blu's and jewel's part, almost fading them), seems to insinuate that they are going to get ripped apart or that this relationship of the photo doesn't exist anymore);

the second interview of Tulio and Linda with Blu, but not with jewel, being that both of them helped finding the hidden place of the blue macaws, very weird, she doesn't appears together with him, seems to insinuate this thing of Blu going back to Rio with Linda and Tulio and jewel staying with her family at Amazon;

And now we have the end of the movie, i always bit confusing cuz out nowhere we have a party being that on the whole movie It seems that The show that blu's friends wanted to make was going to be on Rio but out nowhere the show happen on Amazon? The party too, is a party of what? What are we exactly celebrating? I always Felt that this scene was a bit of a farewell party(putting this narrativa of divorcie kinda makes Sense) as If this was blu's last days on Amazon Because after that he would Go back to Rio, so they make a party to have a bit of a moment together has a family;

The dance of Blu and jewel on this scene is Very different, they seems least closer comparar to their begginer dance (i know that has some moments where they dance more together But those scenes seem slightly off with the whole scene, the almost as If they were put It later Because the flow of the scene seems to make way more Sense with their more individual dance), they to dance more together/Interact more with their kids but not much with each other; The song of the end also gives a bit a separate impression, "We are together wherever we may Go"(on pt makes more Sense, But It Works a bit on english too) even the song seeing to insinuante a separating situation, But even though they are separate their Will always be family, and that they Will always be there for their kids and being a family even If they are not together anymore;

The credits too, on the credit It has a drawing of jewel flying with their kids at the end, But Blu doesn't seeing to be nowhere, but If imagine that they would get separate at the end, that makes Sense, i always feel that the credit shows things about the Amazon And that would make why he doesnt appears Because he's not in there, he doesnt stays on Amazon, he stays at rio, he doesnt live with jewel

Funny cuz always existed a bit of joke relatable to blu and jewel being an animation couple that should have end up having a divorcie, but seeing this Rio2, i do thinks that the guys would indeed go for that(with all those aspects/ and scenes), but for some reason they didn't/decided to not make it, maybe because at the time would be a bit polemic(this movie is from 2014, i think during that time divorcie wasn't something very discussing, at least not on a positive way) or idk, maybe they found a bit sad/heavy Blu and jewel end up divorcing,so they though that was better to end up with a classic story of "family befores everything", but its a bit toxic, i think the movie would be better If they end up separating;

Even that thing of Blu saving the Amazon super combines with this divorcie story/his relationship with jewel, Blu can't adapt to the wild, he can't adapt, and he doesnt like Nature but even with him not liking the wild, he still protecting/helping Amazon, because even though he doesn't like the Nature he respects It, and the Nature seems to represent jewel, he can't adapt her ways, he doesn't work with her, but he still respects her and he will always be there for her, helping and protecting her, and the same for this jewel with the humans, she doesn't like them, and she doesn't want to be around them, but she's grateful of humans because they took care of her when she needed ( the humans representing Blu), she doesn't understand his way,she doesn't combine with him, and she doesn't see to like his lifestyle, but she's Grateful for him because he took care of her when she needed (both by saving her on the first movie and by being a company to her during those years alone), so she's Grateful of him, something Very similar with the relationship that separated couples can have towards each other sometimes.

At the end i just feel a bit bad for both(though Blu is the one that suffers more on this relationship💢) Because both were obligated to be together/got together because was the right things to do at the time, But then life starts to get more confortable/calm and their relationship doesn't seem to make sense anymore and then they starts realize that they just don't work, its a bit...tragic💦; Out nowhere a big ass text about Rio2(god this was hard to make, i bet It has a lot grammar mistakes💦But whatever) But i wanted to write about that, Because i finded interesting and ngl the situation of this Blu and jewel reminds a bit a of the situation of my parents😑(i thinks this even the biggest reason of why i wrote this) at the end is everything a bit tragic, but It just happens, the relationship seems to make sense at the time, but then things just doesn't seem to work anymore; maybe at the end the text even can end Up a bit messy/confusing, But at that this point i Just wanted to finish this text already😵😅;part of me only wishes to have a Rio3 so that they could confirm the divorce of those two🤣(But i doubt It If they had made a Rio3 the story would have that) or they get divorce or they make jewel being less of an asshole

[kpopfeeds]

Block B's Discography

Do U Wanna B?:

Release date: April 14, 2011

Debut Single Album

Wanna B

Freeze!

Does it only happen to me

New Kids on the Block:

Release date: June 23, 2011

Mini Album

Halo

Tell Your Friends

U Hoo Hoo

Wanna B

Freeze!

Is It Only Me

Let them know (Instrumental)

Don't Move (Instrumental)

Welcome to the BLOCK:

Release date: February 2, 2012

2nd Mini Album

LOL

NalinA

Did You or Did You Not?

100% Synchronized

Action

Nalina (Instrumental)

Welcome to the BLOCK: Repackage:

Release date: April 30, 2012

Repackage Album

Close My Eyes

Action (Remix)

LOL

Synchronisation 100%

Action

NalinA (Instrumental)

LOL (Instrumental)

Close My Eyes (Instrumental)

Action (Remix) (Instrumental)

Ghost (Original Sound Track):

Release date: 2012

Original Sound Track

BURN OUT

BURN OUT (Instrumental)

The Thousandth Man Part. 4 (Original Soundtrack):

Release date: 2012

Original Sound Track

Your Umbrella

Your Umbrella (Instrumental)

BLOCKBUSTER #1:

Release date: October 16, 2012

Full-Length Album

11:30

Interlude

Nillili Mambo

Mental Breaker

No Joke

Movie's Over

Where You At (Taeil's Solo)

Dreams Come True

Did You or Did You Not

Halo

Nillili Mambo (Instrumental)

Mental Breaker (Instrumental)

Very Good:

Release date: October 2, 2013

Third Mini Album

Very Good

Be the Light

Three W's and One H (Kyung Solo)

Nice Day

Very Good (Instrumental)

HER:

Release date: July 24, 2014

4th Mini Album

Dime Girl

HER

Hold Me Now (Taeil Solo)

JACKPOT

Very Good (Rough Version)

JACKPOT (Instrumental)

Secret Door (Original Soundtrack):

Release date: 2014

Original Sound Track

Secret Door

Secret Door (Drama Version)

Secret Door (Instrumental)

A Few Years Later:

Release date: March 28, 2016

Single

A Few Years Later

Blooming Period:

Release date: April 11, 2016

5th Mini Album

A Few Years Later

Toy

It Was Love

Walkin' In The Rain

Bingle Bingle (B-Bomb & U-Kwon)

A Few Years Later (Instrumental)

My Zone:

Release date: October 26, 2016

Japanese Debut Album

Very Good

My Zone (Korean Version)

Nillili Mambo

HER

Jackpot

Be The Light

Painless (U-Kwon Solo)

Where are You (Taeil Solo)

Toy

Movie's Over

YESTERDAY:

Release date: February 6, 2017

Single

YESTERDAY

MONTAGE:

Release date: November 7, 2017

6th Mini Album

My Zone

Shall We Dance

One Way

Like This

Give & Take (B-Bomb)

Re:MONTAGE:

Release date: January 9, 2018

Repackage Album

Don't Leave

At Last (Jaehyo Solo)

Everythin' (U-Kwon Solo)

My Zone

Shall We Dance

One Way

Like This

Give & Take (B-Bomb Solo)

Block B THE BEST:

Release date: June 20, 2018

Japanese Album

NILLI MAMBO

Very Good

HER

Nice Day

Jackpot

Toy

Be The Light

My Zone (Korean Version)

Shall We Dance

Yesterday

Walkin' In The Rain

Movie's Over

Don't Leave

ZERO

Charlie Chaplin (BASTARZ)

Winner feat. Chanmina (U-Kwon & P.O) (Korean Version)

Lost & Found feat. KEITA (Taeil Solo)

Painless (U-Kwon Solo)

Too Late (T2U)

Good Bye (T2U)

[bellaaldamas]

Although I'm generally not fond of the idea of Cinderella meeting the Prince (even in disguise) before the ball in various adaptations, especially if this plot point is used to highlight how supposedly "progressive" she is compared to her other counterparts (the one put down most frequently is Disney's animated Cinderella who didn't even know the attentive and kind gentleman she met at the ball was the Prince himself; and yet she is called a "shallow dreamer" and/or a "gold digger" by canon twisting armchair critics), I have to say that Disney's 1997 Live Action with Brandy handled said plot point near perfectly. It was a subversion of the Frozen narrative long before the latter movie came out and before the company conformed to pseudo-"feminist" media trends.

When Brandy's Cinderella stumbles upon the Prince disguised as a commoner she is nice and polite with him and even has a brief but honest conversation with him about how a man should treat a woman (not like a princess but like a "person"). But she does not fall in love with him nor does she go on to dream about him.

From the get go the two of them are shown as two complete strangers who have similar experiences with wanting to find a like-minded person yet have vastly different social backgrounds making it unlikely for them to have a future. We learn of their shared values and longings from the song they sing synchronized in the very beginning. Whereas the difference in their backgrounds is revealed as we, the audience, see the "commoner" reveal himself as a royal person boarding his carriage after his encounter with Cinderella.

The encounter was sweet and pleasant but neither gave it much of a thought and Cinderella in particular went on to live her life as it was (no matter how difficult) and dream not about the Nice Guy she met at the market but about her freedom, the ball and the Prince. And the narrative framed it as being absolutely fine.

At no point did the writing imply Cinderella was superficial, naive or silly to want to break free from her restrictive environment, wish for a better life or aspire to meet someone who would fall in love with her at first sight and vice versa.

The movie went even further subverting the notion that a woman wanting any of that makes her shallow when it had Fairy Godmother introduce the audience - in the opening musical number, no less - to the deliberate misdirect as she sang her "impossible" song; supposedly admonishing the dreamers and, especially, girls who believe in fairy tales. It almost looked like it was going to be another Frozen-esque cautionary tale with woman's dreams shattered, her being "put in place" and the all knowing society being "right all along" and yet it was nothing of the sort.

When Cinderella sings her bittersweet song about enjoying being "in her own little corner, in her own little chair" after the exploitation she has to endure at the hands of her step family the narrative frames it as the only way for her to express herself. Not as a demonstration of her being a "perfect inexperienced and wide-eyed victim" for an unscrupulous man to take advantage of. In that vein, when her Fairy Godmother shows up to - seemingly - deconstruct her dreams with "cold harsh reality" that dreams do not ever come true and are pointless Cinderella outright tells her this is a "terrible" kind of thinking.

While Fairy Godmother insists it's up to a person to pursue their goals because miracles do not happen and, therefore, it's meaningless to waste your time dreaming of them Cinderella stands her ground. She explains why, in her position, dreaming is the only solace and motivation she can afford in order to have mental strength to even consider pursuing those goals.

And the movie once again sides with Cinderella - moreover, it has Fairy Godmother sing along with her about how dreams coming true and miracles happening is actually "possible". It has Cinderella go to that ball, dance with that Prince and fall in love at first sight - and no one belittles her for wanting to be with a "man she just met".

No anti-social sisters (only the step sisters shown not necessarily as cruel but misguided and being under the toxic influence of their disillusioned - in this version - stepmother), no equally anti-social men who "know better" and definitely no mansplaining Snowmen to teach that "poor little silly thing a lesson". A woman remains within her right to handle life's challenges as best she can and go about choosing a partner the way she sees fit.

"Do I want you because you're wonderful or are you wonderful because I want you" - this is the line both Cinderella and the Prince sing to one another in their duet. Now, one needs only to imagine such a line to come out of the mouth of any modern female protagonist, especially in the woke pandering new Disney projects. Then to realize they cannot even imagine that because it would not happen, ever again, at any point anymore.

It is not until the very final of the movie that Cinderella and the Prince learn they are the "commoner" and the "country girl" that stumbled upon one another in the beginning. Once they realize that there are no patronizing conclusions ensuing (no word about how you "can't marry a guy/girl you just met" and how your true love cannot be the person you only knew for a day but can totally be the person you knew for two whole days). They merely smile and playfully tease each other by making references to their first meeting. But neither judges the other for preferring the Prince over the "Nice Guy" or for being desperate to find the "ball girl" instead of the "market girl".

Rather sad that we're not going to get a movie like this again from Disney in the coming decade or even century.

[beefromanoff]

Going Under Ch. 22

summary: the morning after their first date and another game night with the team. for some reason, they all seem to end the same way...

characters: Bucky Barnes x OC

soundtrack: accidentally in love - counting crows

warnings: fluff, pop star fantasy x love story, set in an AU where the Avengers reunite after Civil War, pre-infinity war, slight angst, hurt/comfort, lonely reader/OC.

author’s note: okay, so I've been writing everything pretty much one chapter for each day because I just love the fluff and the stage it's all in. BUT to move the story along, I probably need to do a few more little time jumps. is that what you'd want to read, or should I really drag it out with more fluff?! PLS LET ME KNOW AND I'LL DO IT

chapter list/links - xo

___________________________________________

“Ugh, come on,” Wanda whined. “Tell me more!”

“I already told you everything! Twice!” 

“There has to be something you’re leaving out. You haven’t stopped smiling all morning.” 

Gianna blushed. “It was a perfect night, I don’t know what else you think there would be!” 

Narrowing her eyes, Wanda regarded her friend as if trying to decide if she would pry further. “Hmm. Okay. Whatever you say.” 

Gianna rolled her eyes, laughing. “Can’t you read minds? You know exactly what happened.”

“I’m trying to cut back on that.”

The night had been perfect, indeed. 

Dinner was divine, the weather calm and the breeze cool. The entire date had been planned with such intention that it still made Gianna’s head spin. From the decor to the dancing to the way Bucky looked at her, eyes lingering now that they weren’t both tiptoeing around their feelings for one another. 

They’d danced silently for nearly half of the album, an older set of songs that made Gianna feel like she was the star of a 1940’s romance movie. When she’d lifted her head from his chest to look him in the eyes, she felt so many things flooding through her. 

Adoration. Desire. Gratitude. Infatuation. Nervousness. An overwhelming and irrefutable urge to kiss him. 

That’s exactly what she did. 

It was different from the night before. There was a mutual understanding that it would happen again, but the anticipation of when and how was dizzying. Her eyes met his, her thumb tracing his cheek before sliding around to the back of his head. Bucky’s hand let go of hers as they stopped dancing. He moved slowly. 

First, he tucked her hair behind her ears, both hands soft and synchronized. They slid from behind her ears down to her shoulders, fingertips sliding down her back and coming to rest on her hips. Her lips parted as she sucked in a breath, shivering. 

There was a moment where everything stood still. The world stopped turning and they both stood there, inches apart, drunk off of red wine and proximity. 

And then it happened. 

He leaned down and she rose up on tiptoes. Lips brushed together, lightly and slowly. It was unhurried, patient. 

Last night’s kiss had been the culmination of months of yearning, secret daydreams, suppressed urges. It was desperate, both of them acting as though it was a fleeting moment that they may never get back. Tonight, it was the opposite. It was slow and measured. It was understood that this would happen again, many, many times. 

It all ran together in Gianna’s memories. She didn’t know how long they stood there, lips tenderly moving together. His hands were on her back, they were in her hair. Hers held his neck, his hands, tangled in the fabric of his shirt. 

They laid on their backs on the dock, on a thick blanket that proved Bucky had spared no detail. She traced circles on his arm and he looked at her as though he was trying to commit every detail of her face to memory. The stars twinkled above them, somehow the least memorable part of the entire night. 

At some point, she’d dozed off after laying there for so long. In a strangely full-circle moment, Bucky had carried her back to her room, with her only stirring as he set her down on the bed. 

He leaned down to kiss her head. 

“Bucky?” 

“Shhh, you’re in bed. Go back to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Don’t go,” She caught his hand before he slipped out the door. 

“As much as I’d love to stay,” He held her hand to his chest before releasing it onto the comforter. “I told you, we’re doing this right.” 

“I miss you already.” Her voice was groggy but her smile was warm. 

“Sweet dreams.” 

____________________________

“Umm, Earth to Hannah Montana?” Tony snapped his fingers in front of her face, jolting her back to the present. They stood on the balcony of their building, overlooking a very intense game of frisbee down below. Bucky had hurled the disc nearly a hundred yards when Vision dropped out of the sky to grab it. 

“Yes, uh, sorry -- what?” 

“Are you down for another dysfunctional, slightly incestuous family game night?” 

“Mmm, let me check my calendar. I’ve been pretty booked up these days.” 

“Funny,” He chortled. “Let me ask, when you tell jokes around Darth Vader down there, does he laugh? Because in my experience, he’s not exactly a comedy aficionado.”

Gianna grinned. “It’s all in the delivery.” 

“Yeah, okay. Note to self, be a hot blonde if I want to get a better reaction.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Something like that.” 

Later that night, they’d gathered around the common room, half a dozen pizza boxes strewn on the floor. This living room was smaller than the one in New York, it had fewer windows and felt more intimate, cozier. As was most common, the team was in varying degrees of loungewear. Sweatshirts, hoodies, and sweatpants seemed to be their preferred uniform. 

"So, Bucky," Tony smirked, taking a nonchalant bite of his pizza, "Heard you and G had a little romantic rendezvous last night. Care to spill the salacious details?"

Bucky rolled his eyes, his lips curling into a half-smile. "It was just a date, Stark. Nothing you haven't done before."

“There’s not much I haven’t done before, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like the post-game recap.”

Natasha chimed in, eyes mischievous. "Now that you mention it, I don’t remember hearing you two come back last night. Sam, did you hear anything?” 

“You know what, that’s a great point. I didn’t hear a thing and you know I was up past midnight.” Sam tapped his chin as if he were deep in thought. 

Bucky feigned indifference, but the faint pink tint on his cheeks betrayed his emotions. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Gianna, sitting next to him, nudged his arm playfully. "Don't worry, Bucky. It’s a good thing they didn’t hear anything or they’d be complaining instead of giving us grief.” 

A chorus of groans and laughter filled the room. Bucky grinned at Gianna, thankful she was not only such a good sport with the team’s constant teasing, but consistently able to diffuse the situation with a joke of her own. Tony clapped his hands over Peter’s ears. “Have some class, you two. There are children present.” 

Peter, squirming away from Tony, interjected, "Did you guys hold hands? Share a dessert? Wait, did take spaghetti and end up reenacting that iconic Lady and the Tramp scene?"

Gianna burst into laughter, playfully nudging Bucky again. "I don’t kiss and tell, but I can confirm we did not reenact any animated pasta-eating scenes."

Steve chimed in, giving Peter a pointed look. "Well, as long as you both had a good time, that's all that matters."

“Wait,” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “How did you know we had spaghetti?”

“Uh, I-” Peter’s eyes darted around the room as everyone suddenly became very interested in the pizza on their plates. “Lucky guess?”

Sam spoke up, coming to his rescue. "Come on man, you can’t expect us not to snoop on your first date this century. That’s just called being emotionally invested.” 

Wanda, ever the sweet one, added, "You two look great together. We're happy for you. Truly."

Bucky, caught off guard by the team's teasing but appreciating the camaraderie, finally cracked a smile. "Yeah, whatever, thanks everyone. Now, can we get to whatever dumbass game you have planned?” 

An hour and a half later, they’d wrapped up a lively game of spoons, which resulted in a small crack in the hardwood from where Bucky had gotten a little too competitive against Sam for the win. Apparently that was a new record for fewest injuries during spoons, with Natasha claiming everyone was behaving themselves in front of Gianna. 

“Okay, not that I don’t love games made with kindergarteners in mind, but let’s switch it up a little.” Tony poured himself another drink. “FRIDAY, moderate a game of truth or dare. Let’s call it PG-13. Maybe R-Rated. Find the balance.” 

“Yes, Mr. Stark. Who would you like to go first?” 

“Let’s go oldest to youngest.” Tony winked at Bucky, who rolled his eyes. 

“Mr. Barnes, truth or dare?” 

Bucky looked at Gianna, annoyed and amused. “Uh, truth.” 

“Boring,” Tony faked a yawn. 

“Is it true that you once told Mr. Stark that a window was smashed during a training exercise when in reality you bet Mr. Parker that you could throw him through that window like, and I quote, a fastball up the middle?” 

Bucky hung his head, suppressing a laugh. “It sounds like you already know the answer, FRIDAY.” He glanced at Peter, who was looking at Tony wide-eyed. “Yes, it’s true.” 

“Unbelievable. Absolutely no regard for other people’s belongings.” Tony turned to Peter. “You should have known better. I expected more from you.” 

“What, hey! He’s older!” Peter protested. 

“I don’t care, if he told you to go jump off a bridge, would you do it? Don’t answer that. You’re grounded.” 

“Mr. Stark, I’m almost 21 -” 

“Grounded.” 

The game continued around the table, going the opposite direction of where Gianna sat to Bucky’s left. This round left them all laughing so hard her stomach hurt. Peter took a dare to chug an entire beer while spinning around and then attempt to walk in a straight line, which was fortunately performed on the balcony because he promptly threw it back up. 

Steve played it safe by choosing truth, but immediately regretted it when FRIDAY asked him if it was true he’d looked up Natasha’s old modeling photos within the past week. Judging by the way she looked at him when he admitted it was true, Nat didn’t seem to mind at all. 

Wanda chose truth as well, being asked to tell which of the group members she found most attractive. She sweetly answered Peter, who turned a shade of red they’d only ever seen on his suit, making Wanda giggle. 

Vision was dared to let Wanda teach him a TikTok dance, which failed miserably. The attempts alone left everyone in tears of laughter. 

Natasha had been dared to switch clothes with one other player, and to no one’s surprise, she chose Steve. They’d emerged from Steve’s room with Natasha looking cozier than ever in his crewneck and joggers, but Steve stuck in a very snug tank top and leggings that left shockingly little to the imagination. 

Sam’s dare was arguably the funniest, sending him on a mission to fly around the perimeter of the building and moon the poor agent who was on gate patrol that night. Fortunately, it was an agent they all knew well and had a good sense of humor. He’d flipped Sam off but laughed the whole time. 

Tony had chosen truth, but when FRIDAY asked if he was the one who sent photos of himself looking especially muscular on his beach trip to Bora Bora to the press, he changed his answer to dare. As a result, he now had a small stick’n’poke tattoo on the top of his foot that read “Nat was here”. 

“Hey, it was your idea to play truth or dare.” Nat shrugged, putting the lid back on the inkpot. “Plus, you only got dared because you pussied out of answering the question. As if we don’t all already know.” 

“Yeah, fine, let’s just hope this doesn’t get infected or I’ll be sending my hospital bill straight to you.” He waved his hand at Natasha. “Alright, saved the best for last, our guest of honor.” 

Gianna sat up straighter, polishing off the rest of her drink. 

“Ms. Cruz, truth or dare?” 

She glanced at Bucky, biting her lip. “Dare.” 

“I dare you to remove two articles of clothing for the duration of the game.” 

Shrugging, Gianna grasped at the hem of her sweatshirt and lifted. She’d hardly gotten it three inches when a metal hand grabbed her wrist.

“No.” Bucky spoke firmly. 

A flutter went through her stomach at his possessive tone. 

“Hey, that’s just part of the -” Tony protested. 

“No.” 

Natasha raised her eyebrows, glancing at Wanda. The air was thick with unspoken tension, Bucky’s hand still on Gianna’s wrist. 

“Woo, man,” Sam fanned himself. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” 

“Okay fine, FRIDAY, let’s have a do-over.” 

“Ms. Cruz, I dare you to kiss one other player of your choosing for no fewer than 30 seconds. The time will begin when you do.” 

“Ah, great.” Tony rolled his eyes before pointing at Peter. “Kid, cover your eyes.” 

Grinning, Gianna pretended to carefully consider her options. She turned to Bucky, looking him up and down. “I suppose you’ll do.” 

“I’m a team player.” He smirked. 

She flipped her hair over her shoulder as the group whistled and taunted. Climbing up on her knees, Gianna slid one leg over Bucky’s lap so she was straddling him. “FRIDAY, start the clock.” 

She grabbed his face and greeted him with a steamy, open-mouthed kiss. He was letting her lead, but didn’t back down. His hands gripped her thighs on either side of his waist. She tangled her hands in his hair, tilting his head back against the couch he’d been leaning on. Once again, she bit his lip and tugged before going back to the makeout. If she couldn’t tell he liked it by the vice grip he had on her legs, she definitely could by the stirring she felt underneath her. She smiled into the kiss, hearing the team’s whistles and cheers continue. 

“Time!” 

She slid her hand up his chest.

“Hey, time’s up you ravenous animals.” Tony called. 

Bucky kissed her with more force. 

“Come on,” Sam tossed a pillow at them. “Get a room.” 

“Preferably not the one next to me,” Steve joined in, tossing another one. 

Bucky batted them away behind Gianna’s back without breaking the kiss. When she couldn’t hold her laughter back anymore, she pulled away, cascading into a fit of giggles as she toppled off of his lap and back to her spot on the floor next to him.

“Now that was an Oscar-winning performance if I’ve ever seen one.” Nat winked at Gianna. 

“You think so?” She giggled. “It felt a little under-rehearsed.” 

“I think we can fix that.” Bucky put his arm around her, grinning. 

“Alright, I think we better switch games before this turns into something pornographic. Who’s down for charades?” Tony stood. “And for the love of God, Rogers, please put your own pants back on. I don’t even want to know what I’m making eye contact with right now.”

[jcs-study]

Hi there! I’m here to ask some questions again, but first I’d like to thank you for letting me contribute to the book! Speaking of the book, I think it’s quite wonderful, and the depth of its insight in both the score and narrative it conveys is astonishing. I also have to thank you for the book recommendations for the characters, particularly for Pilate. Ann Wroe’s book in particular is amazing. Anyways, on to the questions:

1.) This one is a bit loaded. I’ve been watching the Mossovet’s production of JCS, which does some sizable changes to it, among which (to its detriment) was its stricter adherence to the scriptures in characterizations. That got me thinking- this isn’t the only production to try and be more biblically accurate (as you said, the AD Tour and the Farewell Tour did it as well). So:

⁃ To you, has there ever been a “biblically accurate” production of JCS that you know of that managed to at least preserve some of the more iconoclastic themes of the original show?

⁃ Why do you think JCS has managed to acquire such a huge Christian following despite its treatment of its subject matter?

⁃ Has there ever been a misotheistic production of JCS? Like, a production where the presence of the divine is made explicit, but framed in a bad light? I think the closest I can probably think of is actually the 2000s movie in its staging of Superstar, where it implied that Judas’ actions weren’t of his own free will. I’m… not really sure that doing such a production would be a wise idea, but given how utterly batshit some JCS productions are, I wouldn’t be surprised if one director actually did it.

2.) Speaking of batshit productions, what’s the strangest JCS production you’ve ever watched (either live or on video)? For me, it was this one German production with Serkan Kaya as Judas and Peti Van Der Velde as Mary. The Temple was Christmas-themed and Jesus beat up a Sexy Santa. Jesus and Judas had a synchronized dance sequence during Superstar. It was wild.

⁃ I’m sure you already know this, but Ivo van Hove, who’s known for his rather eccentric productions is directing a tour of Superstar. There’s been some new information that says it will have some immersive seating. I just wanted to know if you have any particular thoughts on this (like, do you think he’s a good choice for the show, how does the immersive seating sound, etc.). I have some mixed feelings, especially after his West Side Story.

⁃ You’ve talked a lot about Jesus Christ Superstar GOSPEL. I’ve managed to listen to it thanks to some good luck, and I have to say that I’ve enjoyed it immensely and it’s a shame an album never saw the light of day. But from an arrangements-point of view, which songs did you feel benefited most from the rearrangements, and which ones did you feel needed to be a bit more fine-tuned?

⁃ And on a batshit production from the past: theoretically speaking, how would you feel if someone decided to stage either of Tom O’Horgan’s versions of JCS today?

3.) This is in regards to your review of the 50th Anniversary Tour. I actually agree with you on it, as I did find the storytelling quite muddled. I did find an interesting tidbit from Timothy Sheader, the director, in the Lyric Opera program. In it, he said that his production was “more about authentic musicmaking than strict narrative storytelling” and that he was “less interested in Jesus as a character and more in the performer who is singing in the role”. The handheld mics were “to take us back to the gig environment” and “helped people in rehearsal, so they could stop acting”. I have… thoughts on his approach, but it did explain some of the choices he made. What do you think?

First of all, everybody, make some noise for @nemoverne. Without them and their intrepid photo research, none of the book's illustrations would have been possible. They made an invaluable contribution, and I can't thank them enough. Otherwise, the reading experience would be much like this blog: insufferable walls of text. Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you!

And thank you also for your insightful questions. You talk like a JCS scholar, and in case you haven't guessed from my writing on the subject, I like that in a person. Okay, let's get to those questions.

Question Bloc 1: Biblical Accuracy

Mossoveta's production is not just aimed at scriptural accuracy; if one pays close attention, their changes owe more than a debt to the "novel within the novel" in Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita. The adaptor also saw the potential for political commentary: Simon Zealotes speaks (and is costumed) like Trotsky and has an added scene where he and Judas argue about the dialectics of revolution; Pilate's lyrics quote Stalin; Jesus' teaching is presented as central to a movement that collapsed even before his execution because his inner circle can't agree what it's about (shades of leftist in-fighting). All this can be summed up with the understatement that the Teatr Mossoveta version is a very Russian adaptation. ...but at any rate, that's not answering your queries.

To you, has there ever been a “biblically accurate” production of JCS that you know of that managed to at least preserve some of the more iconoclastic themes of the original show?

I don't know if "biblically accurate" is the correct term for it, but I think that Gale Edwards' initial production at the Lyceum Theatre (designed by John Napier and David Hersey, which has nothing to do with her later version, which formed the basis for a couple of UK/European tours, the 2000 Broadway revival, the 2002-05 North American national tour, and, of course, the 2000 film), from all appearances, would fit the bill. These video clips will (hopefully) illustrate what I mean.

Why do you think JCS has managed to acquire such a huge Christian following despite its treatment of its subject matter?

I go into this, to a certain extent, in the "Jesus" profile (specifically its "My Two Cents" blurb) in the book, so I'm happy to paraphrase myself:

At least in my perception, the "huge Christian following" for JCS is largely centered in the U.S., and that's because many American fans cherish JCS for different reasons than international fans do.

In the early 1970s, when it premiered, American youth felt mainstream religions and their traditions and rituals had reduced religious experience, the act of living through faith, to nothing more than symbols and metaphors, subverting and short-circuiting the personal spiritual experience itself, getting in the way of the search for ultimate truths. Church attendance decreased nationwide as kids moved away from organized religion toward more personal spirituality and philosophy.

The conservative response in America was their typical reaction to a radical interpretation (i.e., boycotts, picketing, bomb threats, and letter-writing campaigns). But the liberal side of American Christianity embraced it, interpreting it as a response to this crisis of faith. Anything that got the kids interested was a start. Besides, as many sources (such as this scene-by-scene guide by the Bible Films Blog) attest, the reinterpretation is not nearly as radical as alarmists reported. The biggest differences involve exploring the motivations of Judas and Mary Magdalene in fuller depth and combining some characters to simplify things, such as re-assigning a dream warning Pilate about Jesus from his wife to Pilate himself.

Add in subsequent controversial portrayals that did a lot more harm from a fundamentalist viewpoint (e.g., Last Temptation, Da Vinci Code, etc.), and the show saturating the landscape to an extent that it made audiences of the faithful more willing to accept a "down-to-earth" Jesus rather than a remote "stained-glass" Jesus, and it was easy to view JCS as small potatoes, perhaps even tolerable as a gateway drug for non-believers to get curious about J.C. (Don't discount this -- much to the chagrin of staunchly atheist fans of the show, Gale Edwards, among others, has attested to hearing from folks who saw the show and said it inspired them to go back and learn more about Jesus. There's a significant number of fans in online spaces who proudly report that JCS is the reason they became Christians.)

All that to say: if it's about Jesus and it's more relatable than a standard sermon, and frames it in terms people can understand, it just might feed the flock.

Has there ever been a misotheistic production of JCS? Like, a production where the presence of the divine is made explicit, but framed in a bad light?

Not to my knowledge, or at least if it started off that way, it was massaged into something that is more open to interpretation, way before it ever reached the opening curtain.

Question Bloc 2: Unusual JCS

...what’s the strangest JCS production you’ve ever watched (either live or on video)?

Honestly, and I mean no disrespect to them, probably the 50th-anniversary tour. It took some digging, as my review illustrates, to get at what they were trying to achieve from a storytelling standpoint, and once I had determined that, I ultimately felt they didn't stick the landing.

Yours sounds pretty crazy, though! Yikes!

I’m sure you already know this, but Ivo van Hove, who’s known for his rather eccentric productions, is directing a tour of Superstar. There’s been some new information that says it will have some immersive seating. I just wanted to know if you have any particular thoughts on this (like, do you think he’s a good choice for the show, how does the immersive seating sound, etc.). I have some mixed feelings, especially after his West Side Story.

Oh, I'm fully aware, and to spill some tea that hasn't been widely reported yet (when you become a published and respected content expert on JCS in addition to being a professional producer in your own right, you tend to learn stuff that the general public doesn't), he also has a "lock" on first-class rights for London and might be trying to bounce it to Broadway as well. (All of this, of course, pending the reception of the initial Dutch engagement.)

My first instinct, knowing Andrew Lloyd Webber signed off on this and has historically hated radical reinterpretations, is that Ivo van Hove is, at least in my view, a spiritual successor to Tom O'Horgan as far as qualities of eccentricity and iconoclasm are concerned, so it seems odd that ALW would give a "thumbs up" to hiring him. To the extent that it shows he's more open to creative reinterpretations of his work than he's been in the past, I'm all for the openness, but I question whether Ivo will have as free a hand as he normally does, never mind whether he's the right choice.

(Suffice it to say, I share your mixed feelings on that count, especially after viewing the pre-opening marketing to date that seems to imply Jesus will be viewed as the first victim of cancel culture and hearing rumors that he's interested in cutting "Could We Start Again Please," which reminds me of his deleting "I Feel Pretty" and his noteworthy issues not just with race relations but a female perspective.)

The immersive seating, frankly, sounds like a gimmick -- a neat gimmick, but a gimmick nonetheless. It's not the first time that onstage seating has been employed in JCS (again, I refer you to the Lyceum production discussed above), and I look forward to hearing whether or not it enhances the experience.

You’ve talked a lot about Jesus Christ Superstar GOSPEL. I’ve managed to listen to it thanks to some good luck, and I have to say that I’ve enjoyed it immensely and it’s a shame an album never saw the light of day. But from an arrangements-point of view, which songs did you feel benefited most from the rearrangements, and which ones did you feel needed to be a bit more fine-tuned?

Ooooh, this is kind of a thorny question, because parts of my answer get into the territory of intellectual property which might be developed later. (Let's just say that I might have talked a lot about it because for several years I've been trying to find a way to bring it back, urged on by numerous professional colleagues, despite how things ended with it, which is discussed in brief in the appendix, "My Attempt," in the book. Under such circumstances, I might deal directly with fine-tuning the arrangements. You might say I'd even get granular about it. ...I'll DM you about the specifics.) That said, I'll try to answer as honestly as I can, given the preceding.

Generally speaking, when I first heard of Gospel, I was, frankly, delighted. Unlike more conservative fans who like their JCS a very particular way -- and I am capable of being like that about certain things when it comes to this show, "don't you get me wrong" -- I'd grown weary of hearing basically the same version that's existed forever, especially as it got more and more watered down by time, the age of the original performers (when they were involved), and ALW's influence (when he was involved), and on some level, I was thirsting for something truly different and exciting.

Based on what people who knew music theory better told me when they first got a look at Gospel on paper, it was certainly different. The arranger transposed most of the keys, and took tremendous liberty with chords, melody, and even time signatures (stuff that was written in, say, 7/4 or 7/8 was flipped to 4/4, for example). Groused one fan with whom I tried to share my enthusiasm, "One could hardly call it an accurate reflection of what Rice and Webber wrote; it's more like a variation inspired by their material." True as that may have been, without a recording, I played with it in my head (and in my Finale software), tinkering with what I imagined (and half-remembered from then-extinct clips) and dreaming of how it might sound.

Did reality match my fantasy when I finally heard the bootleg? Of course not. Based on the demos, I expected something a lot more polished and interesting in my head. I'd probably go back to the gospel arrangements in said demos and on paper in a lot of cases; Lloyd Webber neutered this thing but good. But it definitely worked more than I thought it would, even if I came away thinking it was more "proof of concept" than what I'd do with the same idea. (Getting into dangerous territory; answer the question!)

To answer the first half of your question...

In ensemble terms, I think "Hosanna" and "Simon Zealotes" each got kicked up a notch. I also really love the leper sequence. These are what the phrase "take me to church!" was invented for, and some of the best "gospel" work is in them. (Runners-up include the "Temple" and "Arrest" scenes. I'd be happier if they stayed in the original key.)

I rather loved the Whitney-esque take on "I Don't Know How to Love Him," especially the subtle muted trumpet, and, in my opinion, the altered chords add rather than detract.

I kind of giggled with glee at the "low-fi hip-hop" -- as the kids would say -- approach to the apostles' opening chorus of "The Last Supper," complete with the 90s slow jam keyboard sounds straight out of Joe's "I Wanna Know."

Darius de Haas' performance of "Gethsemane" really blew me away -- less rock-inflected anger and more a "dark night of the soul." (To say nothing of the fact that the vocal arrangement almost makes Jesus attainable for baritenors who can't screlt like Ted Neeley.) At first, I was scrunching my nose at the angry little "laughs" (you've listened to it, you know what I'm talking about), but then he kicked into high gear and I forgot what I was mad about. I really dig his snarling build to the G5, and absolutely love the slower, more impactful "Bleed me… beat me… kill me" at the end.

But most of all, more than any rearrangement, I was surprised by how much I loved the sound of the traditional material through a gospel filter. For example, most of the major guitar solos ("Overture," "Damned for All Time" intro being the two most recognizable) were played down the octave rather than in their usual screaming register, so to speak. Honestly, I didn't hate that; it worked with the less guitar-heavy approach of this production. As for the singing, a gospel choir with powerful voices and extensive vocal ranges is perhaps the best type of ensemble to seek out for JCS, whether a traditional or non-traditional take. They nailed it to the wall. (Plus, for all my shit-talking of ALW's enforced 50/50 approach, I found the transitions between "gospel" and "original" mostly seamless, maybe one or two clunky spots of note at most.)

As for the second, rather than getting into matters of fine-tuning (see above), I'll give you what didn't work so well for me:

I feel like a lot of key signatures were needlessly altered. One can go to different places when one modulates, but I feel like ALW would have overlooked a lot of indiscretions if they followed more of the same direction before taking any shortcuts, metaphorically speaking.

As much as I loved the sound of the traditional material gone gospel, there were also times that it wasn't served so well. The orchestration was reduced to typical "praise and worship band" elements, which was fine when it tended toward its natural habitat, but when the vehicle veered back to ALW's terrain (metaphorically speaking), it sometimes sounded a tad wimpy, like they merely reassigned certain parts to other instruments and subtracted the rest without calculating the effect on the overall sound. Moments from the original that thrive on dynamics were often a little lacking in that department as a result, and that usually came from the piano -- not always so well, in my opinion -- covering everything. (Indeed, I joked to a musician friend that this finally gave the execrable 5-piece orchestration of JCS a function: shoring up Gospel's reduction with texture and detail, to cover what its arrangement doesn't when it quotes the original.)

In the same vein as the above bullet point, there were moments in the quotes from the original where the gospel flavor seemed especially "tacked on," in a way that smacks of "ALW, you may force our hand, but they won't forget this is gospel." (Examples of these elements include the choir's vocalizing in the Overture during the repeated motif before the "Don't let me stop" section, and their new "mob" lines during the 39 lashes.) I'm 50/50 on how much they add or detract for me.

I love the "gospel brunch" take on the apostles' chorus in "The Last Supper," and I even came up with a dramatic context for it in a production that never came to be, but I'll admit that, while I realize it was probably the easiest and most organic opportunity to slide in some "praise" after "Simon," it kind of went on a little long for me. We get it; it's a festive occasion until Jesus brings the mood down and Judas calls him out on being a drama queen and they come to blows. Don't over-egg the pudding.

...theoretically speaking, how would you feel if someone decided to stage either of Tom O’Horgan’s versions of JCS today?

Speaking strictly for myself, I would prefer to see the Universal Amphitheatre (L.A.) version come back rather than what I've jocularly dubbed Insect Christ Futurestar (Broadway). But aside from that, I'm open to his POV being re-explored. Even Tim Rice now agrees that he got the short end of the stick from both vindictive critics and two young authors who were attached to their own idea of what they wanted to accomplish but didn't have the power to execute it, and a lot of what O'Horgan tried to realize from a tech standpoint is more feasible today than it was in the early Seventies, albeit probably no less costly thanks to inflation.

Question Bloc 3: 50th-Anniversary Tour

Since this was only one question, I'll cut to the chase: yes, it explains some of his choices. No, I still don't agree with them.

Hope these answers satisfy your quest for knowledge!

[sillyname30]

I just listened to the latest episode of and that's what you really missed on Glee.

The Golden Globes were around the time this episode aired. Jenna wasn't invited, because she was acting out behind the scenes on Glee and got punished.

Chris, Naya, Darren and Lea were on the cover of TV Guide as promo for the Michael episode.

They didn't mention that Darren was on Broadway at this time. Maybe they do it next week. It was the reason why Blaine got hurt by the slushie. They had to write him out.

We got an explanation how they got Helen Mirren as the inner voice of Becky. Eric Stoltz did a movie with Helen Mirren and he called her and asked her if she would do it.

Kevin said that Lauren was great in this episode, it was nice she had more to do and that Lauren is so nice. (I wished they talked a little more about her.)

They both say Moves Like Jagger was a weird number. Jenna didn't know this was a suggestion for a proposal number, because she skipped around. (I try to be nice about the podcast, but Jenna makes it impossible. It's part of her work to sit down and watch the whole episode to be prepared for the podcast. I don't know what was going on behind the scenes on Glee, but if this was always her attitude towards work, it's no surprise they didn't give her more to do.)

I'm with Jenna and Kevin that it is weird for Mr. Shue to ask the Glee club to come up with his proposal number. Shouldn't that be personal? And it is even weirder that Mr. Shue asks Finn to be his best man.

I'm with them that it was weird that Rachel started singing at Breadsticks when Finn talked about his future. (and where was Blaine?)

They thought the insults of coach Roz towards Sam were funny. (They are, but they are also offensive.)

Kevin and Jenna had a hard time to watch the scene with Finn and Carol about the truth of his father's death. Finn's father died of an overdose and it felt to close to home.

Shooting We Found Love was a fun day, but the water and the air was cold. No word on the synchronized swimmers.

Cringe moment: Emma's parents (Jenna), asian joke (Kevin)

best dance move: We Found Love (both)

best song: We Found Love (Jenna), Without You (Kevin)

performance mvp: Jayma (Jenna), Cory (Kevin)

[loveurydice]

My K-Pop Fan Experience: Slipping On To The K-Pop Life and Connecting With Friends, Both Online and Offline

"Even if we're miles apart, our hearts are always together." - Hoshi, SEVENTEEN

I first encountered and knew about K-Pop when I was in the first grade of elementary school. There was a performance we were preparing for one of our subjects, and our teacher decided that the song 'Nobody' by Wonder Girls was a good song for us to use in our dance. However, my interest in K-pop only grew when I was in fourth grade when songs by the group Girls' Generation were popular in our school. The song, their choreography, the visuals of the members, and their music video were beautiful, and it made me fall in love and become a fan of them immediately.

What completely drew me into K-pop for the past decade are their catchy melodies, impressive choreography, and unique music videos. First, these melodies often combine elements of pop, hip-hop, R&B, and electronic music, creating a unique and easily digestible sound. Second, K-pop groups place a strong emphasis on synchronized and visually stunning choreography. The dance routines are often complex, energetic, and innovative, making them a visual spectacle in music videos and live performances. Finally, K-Pop music videos are known for their intricate storytelling. They often incorporate cinematic elements, creating narratives that enhance the overall song experience. Some of my favorite K-Pop albums are the following:

• SEVENTEEN's "Semicolon"

• Girls' Generation "The Best" Album

• BTS "Love Yourself"

• LOONA's "++"

• f(x) "Pink Tape"

• Red Velvet's "Reve Festival" Album Series

Being a K-Pop fan for the past decade has influenced me a lot in terms of my fashion, hobbies, and interests when it comes to learning a language. For the past years, I have successfully mastered the Korean alphabet and can now converse using the basic Korean language. As a person who wants to help my fellow K-pop fans feel more connected, I do simple translations for posts and videos of the K-pop idols we mutually follow.

Social media plays a pivotal role in the K-pop fandom, serving as an essential platform for staying updated on K-pop news and engaging with fellow fans. Platforms like Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook allow fans to get real-time updates from their favorite K-pop groups and idols. Fans alike create dedicated social media accounts solely for K-pop content, where we share news, updates, fan art, and personal thoughts about our favorite groups and idols. For the past years, I fostered friendships online with people where I can freely talk about how much I love music and the people in K-Pop in general, which made my heart feel at ease. It easily made me feel that there are actually people who understand and who will listen anywhere around the world.

Fans organize offline events, such as fan meetings, gatherings, and celebrations, often using social media to coordinate and promote these events. They use social media to plan meet-ups and coordinate fan support projects for concerts and fan meetings, enhancing the overall fan experience at these events. Even though I have been a K-pop fan for a decade, I actually started participating in these fan events only in 2022. At first, the social anxiety within me made me nervous because of the thought of interacting with people I did not know in real life; however, these thoughts were eventually broken when the organizers did their best to include everyone and do activities that would let all of us have conversations, do games, and share the mutual love we have for our idols. Some of my favorite fan events include the NCT Dream The Movie Block Screening back on December 8, 2022, the 218 Brothers (Dino, DK, and Vernon) Birthday Cupsleeve Event last February, and the S.Coups Birthday Beersleeve Event last August. These fan events became the bridge for me to have friends I knew online who are also now my friends in real life. It feels warm in my chest, knowing that a beautiful relationship was built and bloomed because of the same cosmic love we share for K-pop groups.

With that, we can easily say that social media acts as a bridge that connects K-pop fans worldwide, fostering a sense of community and shared passion. It not only allows for easy communication and information sharing but also facilitates fan-driven activities, both online and offline, that enhance the overall K-pop fan experience.

K-pop, with its catchy music, impressive performances, and dedicated fanbase, has achieved remarkable global influence and has played a significant role in promoting Korean culture worldwide. K-pop has transcended borders to become a global phenomenon, serving as a cultural ambassador that introduces Korean culture to the world. Its influence extends far beyond music, impacting language, tourism, fashion, and diplomacy. As K-pop continues to evolve and expand its reach, it plays a pivotal role in promoting and celebrating Korean culture on a global scale. K-pop has not only enriched my musical palette but also broadened my horizons, fostering an appreciation for Korean culture, language, and traditions. It has encouraged me to step out of my comfort zone, attend concerts and fan gatherings, and engage in cultural exchanges. In doing so, it has helped me build a sense of belonging and find kindred spirits who share my enthusiasm.

In summary, K-pop has taught me that the beauty of music lies not only in the melodies but in the connections it fosters. It has been a bridge that has linked me to extraordinary individuals, both near and far, who have enriched my life in immeasurable ways. Through the rhythms of K-pop, I have found not only a soundtrack for my life but also the most beautiful friendships that continue to grow, reminding me that music truly knows no boundaries.

A blog by Yorie May Iroy (BS Economics 3-MFE), University of Southeastern Philippines, for the subject EGE 2: Living In The IT World

[luwupo]

this reminded me of an italian kids' song called "il tip-tap del millepiedi" (literally "the centipede's tap dance") and it talks about this centipede has the dream to tap dance (in italian tip-tap, to mock the sound the feet make. Ideally, one foot does "tip" and the other does "tap") so how can an insect with so many feet dance? It invented two more dance moves ("top" and "tup") and started tap dancing like hell and not falling, winning fears and achieving its dreams. this is the original song:

and it would be a shame if I didn't translate the text and highlight my fav parts, so please enjoy!

There's a noise under the floor, who knows what it could be? (Mystery!) I go down to the cellar, curious, but it's so dark! (How black!) Suddenly a flash! (A flash?) From a white spotlight over there. (Try to spy secretly to find out more.) I hope so.

I see a little mouse with a top hat, he says: "The show is starting!" (The show?) All the other little animals in the front row whistle a little… (You're good!) With one foot they do tip-tup. (Tip-tup?) Then with the other they do top-tap. (Top-tap?) And a long guy on a stage dances and sings like this…

And this is the tip top tup and tap, the tap of the centipede And I invented the tup and the top to be able to stay standing Balanced on a thousand legs I click my heels like Fred Astaire And swaying in synchronicity, keeping the rhythm with skill. And this tip top tup and tap, is the tap of the centipede. (What kind of tap dance?) With my slow talent I tour all the cities (From Rome to Bogota!) My tour begins here, I feel like at the Opera I like being a tap dancer. (Really?) Yes! Tap! (But what kind of dance is it?)

After studying tango, twist and swing for so many years… (And Bolero?) No! Always imitating the beautiful dances I saw in the movies (With Ginger Rogers?) Yes! Everyone was wondering but what is the secret To make all those legs dance together how do you do it? (How do you do it? How do you do it?)

Easy! Two hundred and fifty red shoes go tip (Two hundred and fifty yellow shoes go top) Tip tip tip (Top top top) Tipetetip tipetetip (Tipetetipetetipetetop) Two hundred and fifty blue shoes go tup (Two hundred and fifty white shoes go tap) Tup tup tup (Tap tap tap) And all together do they go? (And all together do they go…) Tip top tup and tap, the tap of the centipede (With two extra steps) Who invented the top and the tup to stay standing (He doesn't fall down) And with a little willpower Overcoming difficulties He has become a tap dancer! Tip top tup and tap!

With two extra steps He doesn't fall down! And if even the centipede managed to dance Your dream can also come true, but only if you believe in it! And off you go with the tip top tup and tap, it's the tip tap of the centipede With two more steps! With his slow slow talent he got here! He doesn't fall down! Overcoming difficulties he becomes a tap dancer And his dream came true. And from that dream happiness was born! Tipetetopetetipetetap! Tap!

TN: in Italian, centipede is a masculine word, so the subject is "he" (also because of characterization)

Hope you had fun cause I sure did!! :p

Why is this bot such a fucking hater on my rock climbing worm

[mexicanchoco-lit]

whether I’m in the front row feeling every note,

or on the stairs watching it all move like clockwork,

I see it. Someone should film a movie about the

challenges or being in the industry, from a management

Perspective. The secrecy, the undisclosed information.

The NDAs the most powerful media companies holding

accountable, The people, the access. The treatment the

View, the pay. The nights you spend with people that

Make everything happen.

The perfectionist, believe me we are here: we don’t miss

A fkn single detail. We can’t. We have to be the ones

responsible. It’s the shows that fail that I understand

Are handled by organizations or teams with low level

Players in my field. The ones that just do it to say they did.

Not because they want to make something successful

And watch it go off like a synchronized dance.

For instance Travis Scott show that killed fans.

Big lazy fk ups. They don’t have people that care about

Things with integrity. Those people are car door dingers,

Slow pacers, non observant. Careless.

Underachievement is celebrated and accepted, the kind

People that say “ fuck it we tried.”

The less hungry, less curious, less likely to achieve.

Get them out my way, there in my way. I’m in a league of

Dedicated serious movers. That plan for the potential

problems. Because we examined every single aspect.