#But the fans? the fans have been tryin to get us out the paint since the second they realized we were here

[thottybrucewayne]

No, let's talk about it.

If it ever seems like there are very little active Black star wars fans in online spaces, just know reylos did that.

Even before the laying pipe situation and the freemyniggajay incident, a vast majority of them were either being viciously antiblack or closing rank around reylos who were being viciously antiblack.

They mass reported Black fandom blogs and propped up Black reylos whenever they were called out for doing so, they edited Kylo over Finn during intimate scenes between Finn and Rey then acted like Black fans were overreacting when we pointed out how racist that was, the mountains of racist fanfiction they wrote about finn then posted in the finn tag including one where he was a slave and so much more.

They worked hard to push Black fans out of these spaces and they did it on purpose, dont let the rebrand fool you.

[ktheist]

ghost of a kiss.

muses. duke’s son!yoongi x marquis’ daughter!reader x crown prince!namjoon / professor!yoongi x student!reader x detective!namjoon

genre. historical au. reincarnation au. modern au. 

words. 5.3k

note. nobody come at me for the header pls. or as bretman used to say, like fuck i’m tryin i’ve only been doin this for 2 hours 😭

x

There weren’t that many things Yoongi wouldn’t do if his father so wills it. Perhaps it was the Min blood coursing through his veins that made him so apathetic to human emotions.

You want to laugh.

You also want to cry, scream and throw the closest thing you have which is your fan at Yoongi’s ever emotionless expression. Just like a blank canvas painted with invisible ink, Yoongi never shows his feelings. Never spoke his mind.

Well, not around you at least.

It was as if you were just a pretty little doll for him to play with –no, he doesn’t even pay you any mind. He just sat there, sipping on the cherry blossom tea that the maid poured into his cup and gave one worded answers to the questions you asked after your endless chatter came to, well, an end.

After that, he put up with you a little bit longer when you insisted you’d wanted to escort him out of the garden and to the front of the mansion where his carriage awaited.

“Until we meet again, my lady,” he would bow but you would hold out your hand for him to place a ghost of a kiss on like lovers would.

It was always you who were asking for too much.

Always you who were a slave for his affection.

But instead of doing all of those things you dreamed of doing when you meet him again –and meet him, you do– you end up running past the grandeur doors of the ballroom, down the red carpet splayed hallway and into the gardens where red roses glimmer with dew drops underneath the moon rays.

What a heartbreakingly beautiful set up for a damsel with a broken heart.

“My lady,” it hasn’t even been five minutes when you hear that stone cold voice of Yoongi.

“Why couldn’t you just pretend you didn’t see me running like a scared, defenseless mouse after we met. After all, you’ve always been good at that –pretending like I don’t exist.” You wanted to laugh and laugh, you did. It sounds withered, unlike the full blooms of floral that surrounds you two.

“As your fiance, I have a duty to–”

“Duty.” You spit out the word like it’s poison, “was visiting me every fortnight for tea a duty of yours too?”

The corners of your eyes are red from roughly rubbing the traces of tears that threatens to fall on your cheeks and ruin your makeup.

You take a deep breath before turning to him, pushing down a silent sniffle.

“As you may have heard from your father, Duke Min, you’re relieved from that cumbersome duty,” you hold your chin high.

As you should.

Yoongi Min stares at you a moment longer than he usually would. Is it the hair? Your hair’s grown since he last saw you. 

Or perhaps the bodice that wraps around you and enhances your curves and bosoms. 

‘Perhaps’, you somberly admits, ‘he simply forgot how I looked after four years.’

“As you should have heard from the Marquis,” Yoongi presses, “I refuse to break the engagement.”

“Wha–” the word slips past your lips before you even register it.

“It can’t be undone, his Majesty already approves of the annulment,” you know you’re repeating words your father and brother uttered. Like a hopeful little mouse in the face of a black panther.

“Only with the Majesty’s approval can you request to break the engagement but it’s up to the Min’s if we wish to grant your request –I reject it.” Yoongi stands only a few feet away from you, his eyes appearing darker than black, shadowed by the moonlight.

When he steps forward and out of the shadow, you find yourself forgetting how to breathe. Like a beast in the night, he ambles his way to you elegantly and swiftly.

Before you know it, Yoongi is standing in front of you. And you, a captor beneath those haunting, onyx, splendor. His gloved fingers twirl a strand of your hair around them before he brings the golden locks to his lips.

“I loved you blindly, Sir Min,” you send your gratitude to the gods and goddesses for the stillness in your voice, “I longed for you like a sailor long to sail the seven seas but do you know what’s so wretched about this sort of longing? Only a lucky few manage to love without drowning.”

Your slender fingers curl around his wrist. Even then, you couldn’t close your fist around it –your hand is too small and delicate compared to his. And at times like these, you’re reminded of how woman you are and how man, he is.

“Release me,” the air feels cold against your now damp cheek but your heart is icier, “once and for all. At the very least, I’ll be able to marry a humble Count who’ll receive part of my inheritance once my father dies.”

The scoff that leaves the man’s lips sends shivers down your spine.

“A humble count,” his eyes gleam with mockery, as if he finds your words ironic, “did the Crown Prince of the Isira Dynasty not propose to you? Did you not come back for the sole purpose to tell me you’re abandoning me?”

You suspected the rumors of your getting closer to the Crown Prince, Namjoon, would spread over the continent.

“If you know, then let me go.” You say steely.

It’s the rawness in your tear-stained eyes that steals Yoongi’s breath away. The night breeze that blows past him almost sends him tumbling down like waves crashing against the shore.

“[Name],” he speaks your name for the first time in a long time, the syllables rolling off his tongue like sweet honey, “I’m not a man of many words. I don’t know how to–”

“You didn’t know how to kill either but you got better at it with practice!” Your throat feels as if it’s being grazed by sandpaper.

Your heart, on fire.

It’s the first time you’ve shown a different emotion than that heartwarming smile that looks like you’re meant for spring and blooming flowers. In that blissful moment, you look like one of the crimson roses that bear witness to you and Yoongi’s altercations.

“That’s right, I know what you do,” you nod, gaze burning with acid tears, “all those months spent waiting for you to come back from those expeditions. Monsters weren’t the only thing you slayed, were they?”

“No,” Yoongi breathes out and for some reason, his chest feels like it’s going to cave in and crush his heart.

The sensation is alien to him. Hell, he didn’t know he had a heart to begin with. It was just an organ that kept his blood pumping –he’d gladly tore it out and gave it to his dearest fiancée if she so much asked for it.

But now – now – she’s saying she wants no part of it. 

The realization comes to him like poisonous smoke. Spreading around the hollowed part of his chest and seeps into that beating organ of his. Before he knows it, you’re already slipping out of his grasp.

“I’ll break off the engagement,” he finally says, his brain not registering the words that left his mouth, “for a kiss.”

But his heart knows what he wants.

You look at him like he’s crazy, eyes going round and glossed lips parting in a silent gasp. But when he makes no attempt to correct his words, realization gradually settles in.

“Make it quick.”

Long lashes flutter shut, lips pressed in a straight, unwilling line. The hand that clasps around his wrist falls to your side. Your shoulders are tense. You look like you’d rather be with those chimeras Jeongguk’s breeding than here. 

Yoongi takes another step toward you. 

Your eyebrows knit together when his gloved knuckles caress your cheekbone. The sharp inhale of breath you take as you brace herself doesn’t go past him. A rose, even in the face of the hands that threatens to pluck it, remains fierce and grounded.

The wait feels endless. As if time passes agonizingly slow yet the only indication that time hasn’t halted altogether is the way your heart keeps palpitating inside your chest as though it’s about to explode any second.

Then you feel them –a pair of softest, ghostly, lips on your forehead. As opposed to the hand kisses he left you, this one lingers with a sort of yearning. And even then, it feels short-lived.

As though you will never have enough of Yoongi Min.

“My lady, you look disappointed, if you wanted me to kiss you elsewhere, you should’ve said so.” There’s a mirth in his tone. And for a moment, you feel warm, like the warmth of the sun hugging you.

“What if I did?”

You want to ask but you decide against it. Thrusting your chin up like the noblest of women would, you remind him of the deal, “I’ll send someone to retrieve the annulment papers in a week’s time. I assume it will bear your signature, sir.”

With that, you walk past him, your laced hand brushing against his gloved one but even on the verge of goodbyes, Yoongi Min doesn’t let you walk out of it that easily. His pinky finger hooks around yours like a rusted, weak chain. Unsure whether to keep holding on or letting go.

Yet your feet stop dead in their tracks. Your heart races. Deep down, you know you want him to hold onto you like you held onto him for ten, pitiful years.

“Have a good evening, my lady,” is all he says, his hand falling away and he begins strutting to the opposite direction you’re heading even though there’s nothing in that direction besides a maze made of rose beds.

But you don’t plan to ponder too much on it. Namjoon, the Crown Prince, is waiting for you back in Isira where you’ll build a new home. A new life. And with a loving husband.

Or so you thought. 

x

That was a lifetime ago. To say you opened your eyes to a twenty-one year old body in a world plagued by motor engine propelled and electronic devices –would be a lie. 

This body is yours.

This life is yours.

You remember your first step, first successful ride on the bike after your father took off the supporting wheels, your first fall and the rest of your firsts, seconds, thirds and so on. And as such, you remember your first time meeting Min Yoongi.

At the age of twenty-one and him, twenty-six, his emotions are hard to pinpoint.

He isn’t much different in this lifetime.

His hair is a shade of rich brown that could easily pass as black if he’s not walking underneath the sunlight. He’s taller than the twenty-two year old boy you last saw before your carriage crashed into the ditch –that was the last thing you remembered from your last life. 

No, you didn’t die. But the rest of your life past that point was blurry.

And here he comes, all in his dark colored vest over a white undershirt and black trousers. Professor Min Yoongi is nothing short of perfection.

“[Name], do you have a minute?” He approaches you like a panther; soundless and undetectable.

Before you know it, he’s five feet away from you and if you were to make a quick u-turn, it would be too obvious.

“I’m afraid not professor, I’m sorry, should I email you at a later time so we can discuss matters of my assistantship?” You put on your best smile and he lifts a dubious brow that screams that he sees right through your lie. 

Yet he doesn’t press on.

Instead, he offers another alternative –though completely disregarding the last bit about the email, “right, then meet me after class.”

“I-I’m afraid I can’t do that either professor, I have to rush to Cyber, right after–!” You almost choke on your words.

“I’ll talk to Professor Park about that,” he says simply and taps you on your shoulder like any good-natured professor would with his top-performing student.

It just so happens that you’re extremely good at the class he teaches, which, ironically, is Neurocriminology.

x

“Professor Min?” You knock on the intimidating wooden door and hear a curt ‘come in’ from the other side before pushing the door open.

Behind his desk, Yoongi looks up at you through his long lashes and straight into the windows of your soul.

Even in your second life, his piercing stare affects you.

But you tell yourself that it’s because he’s just devilishly handsome and you’re humbly a woman. 

That, and he and Professor Park Jimin are the youngest professors in the department.

“Those assignments over there need sorting.” Yoongi points to the pile of papers in a box perched on the coffee table as though waiting for you to arrive.

“Yes, professor,” you breathe through your mouth and swallow back the words of accusation that threaten to fall past your lips.

You did volunteer to be a student assistant but you never thought, in a million years, that the man who resembled your fiancé in the past… Well, on paper at least. You never thought he would pick you as his supervisee.

The room is silent save for the rustling sound of papers fluttering as you shift through each assignment and place them alphabetical orders of the name. Every once in a while, you can’t help but steal glances at the man seated behind the desk. With his hair slicked back and the cuffs of his wrist rolled up to his elbow, he looks like every girl’s modern day prince charming.

“Why are you so keen on running away from me?” His husked tone cuts through the silence.

“Pardon, professor?” You blink, not catching the meaning of his words until a moment later.

Your cheeks heat up under his piercing gaze, the recollection of the occasions you fast-walked to lose him in the hallways burning in the back of your mind.

“I-it seems I always have places to be… classes to attend, I’ll make sure to meet you every morning to confirm my tasks, professor,” you can’t just confess that he has a face and name of the man you once loved in your past life.

If you so much spoke of your remembering you’d be sent to the asylum.

A ghost of a smile tugs on the corners of his lips but it was gone as soon as it came. You’re not sure if you’re just seeing things.

“Very well, send me the location of your apartment so I can pick you up tomorrow,” he doesn’t look up from the screen of his Mac when he says that.

“P-professor?” You blink, disbelief coloring your complexion.

“You said you’d meet me every morning, yes? I always have my breakfast at 7:30 AM at The Curve, we can discuss matters of your tasks over breakfast.” He goes on like it’s just another day of him assigning you a task to complete.

x

The next morning, you sit with your back straight, staring at the pancakes Yoongi ordered for you. The sweater he wears over his vest makes him seem more relaxed than his usual vest and tie look. His long lashes almost brush the top of his cheek as he casts his gaze down at the leaf shaped latte he’s drinking.

“Professor, I double checked with the administration office and they gave me a list of things I have to do to complete my assistantship. From the tasks you’d given me, I checked off at least three of the requirements,” you take out an azure blue notebook where you flip to a page that has a piece of paper and slides it across the table.

“You came prepared,” he muses, an amused smile playing on his lips and your little heart does its little flips.

“I take it you’re writing a paper on neuroscience and human behavior –if there’s anything, I can help you with, please let me know,” you return his smile with a schooled one –the kind that you use when you’re dealing with strangers.

“Sure,” the professor nods, “I could use some help researching neurodivergence.”

The conversation flows smoothly. The worries you harbored for the whole of your university life now dissipated. You were at your most comfortable when it comes to academia. Your passion lies in your interest in criminology and the one man who you could engage in an intellectual conversation is none other than the man whom you tried so hard to avoid.

At some point, you think your worries, silly. Just because they share the same face and name, doesn’t mean they share the same memory. For all you knew, you could be the one in a million who remembers your past life.

That is, until Yoongi asks, “were you happy?”

He uses the word ‘were’ to refer to the past. It takes you a moment to register that he didn’t mean your childhood nor adolescent years.

And when you finally put two and two together, you can almost hear your heart drop. You thought you’d be sweating bullets and heaving for air from the tangible pressure this conversation brings.

But before you could say anything, Yoongi speaks again, “I won’t push for an answer, I know where that led me before.”

He casts his gaze down, long, nimble fingers picking up the cup of latte and making the regular sized cup seem miniature in his hand.

x

It’s a few days later, as you accompany him to another university to meet with a fellow specialist, that you finally say, “you never pushed me.”

Stirring the cup of black coffee, sitting at one of the round, two-persons tables in the cafe of the Sociology Department, you go on, “in fact, you never asked for anything at all. I was always the one asking for too much, giving just as much.”

‘I loved you too intensely and I burned too bright.’ These are the words you never dare say.

Loved.

Because you don’t love Min Yoongi anymore.

Perhaps, that’s why you’re unusually calm.

“I can’t remember everything –only bits and pieces. That night,” you swallow –you don’t need to steal a glance at him to know he’s thinking of the same night; the night you said your goodbyes, “after the carriage crashed, I remembered seeing shadows clash against one another. Namjoon’s men went against the assassins who came for me because I was the rumored Crown Prince’s soon-to-be fiancée. I had to go into hiding after he was demoted to a mere prince because of his brothers’ schemes… at some point, I remember starving because we had nothing to eat.”

A new identity was all Namjoon could offer for his beloved. He spoke of claiming back the throne that was rightfully his yet his supporters scattered all over the continents after the siege. Their spirit waned overtime. He came for you after the shadows saved you but you both lived in poverty until one shriveled up like a dead flower and the other went mad for the crown that was once his.

The way his fists clench with remorseful anger doesn’t go past you, it’s almost as though you can hear him blaming himself for your choices.

You smile wistfully, “but yes, I remember being happy,” the smile tugs into a straight line as you face him with conviction, “would I give everything up for that sliver of happiness again? No,” you shake your head, “now I just want money.”

Yoongi laughs. Like truly laughs out loud with his shoulderline shaking and hand on his stomach. The sound lacks the menace that you remembered him to wear around him like a cloak.

All of a sudden, the air seems to change. The tension you once felt, now dissipated into thin air. A familiar warmth creeps up your neck but you mask it with indifference.

You can’t afford to fall for him all over again.

Not when you’ve had a lifetime to mull over and decide these feelings would die with you –get buried with you.

“What happened after your sister ruined the dukedom?” It’s when you both got to this point of the conversation that you felt your heart writhe inside your chest.

As if physically hurting for the fate that befell Yoongi –at this point, it was just an assumption, but you were sure that–

“Aera tracked us one by one until she killed every single Min,” he says simply, as if talking about a cherished sister who up and left home with the family’s savings a few hundred years ago, “she was the best of us. She knew people like us couldn’t be left alone to live a quiet life.”

In the lulled silence, you notice the festering remorse that dances in his eyes.

He clasps his palm over his mouth as he stares out of the window, “of course, things are different now. We’re not allowed to kill.”

At that, you almost spat out the coffee you’re downing. You couldn’t believe your ears.

“It was illegal to kill then, you and your family did it anyway because you were just so– so… messed up!” You explode partly, voice lowered as you lean over the table, cautious of anyone nearby who might hear you.

“Aren’t you glad neurocriminology gives justification to murderers, well, murdering nowadays?” He smirks, one corner of his lip tugging upwards.

You find yourself breathing in sharply as your heart skips a beat at the sight of Min Yoongi’s dark humor.

The Yoongi in your past life would never be able to even understand a joke –you were sure.

But now it’s you who doesn’t appreciate the humor.

“Is that why you became a professor?” It’s apparent in the way your brows knit together.

“Rather, paired with my previous… knowledge, it’s an easier way to get a PhD and a stable earning,” the shrug makes him appear boyish –younger than he is.

For some reason, he was several years older than you in this lifetime compared to the last.

“Apparently mine deems that I marry rich,” you remark playfully.

“Then, shall we get married? I missed my chance in my previous lifetime and I’m kind of well off in this lifetime,” it’s the easy suggestion of marriage that makes you almost choke on the pancake you just directed into your mouth.

“Professor, there’s just something you don’t joke about,” you say after gaining a semblance of your composure yet your heartbeat drums in your ears and your cheeks feel as though they’re on fire.

Why are you so happy to hear that Min Yoongi, your former fiancé and beloved, entertained the idea of marriage with you even in this lifetime?

x

“Your sisters... do they remember?” Yoongi asks one fine evening as you’re surfing the internet to research the needed materials he tasked you with.

“How did you know I have sisters?” You blink, surprised.

Yoongi had to mask the involuntary smile that tugs on the corners of his lips when he sees how lovely and adorable of a face you’re making.

“You mentioned them before,” he states, “even if you didn’t, I’d suspect as much since I was born with the same siblings from the previous lifetime –for now, it’s me, Aera and Hoseok, who knows where my dad hid the rest of his children and mistresses.”

“They don’t remember, I tried asking when I first started remembering –was it at the age of eight? They looked at me like a devil just possessed their little sister,” you sigh softly, “it’s better this way. Life isn’t all that easy for them either in the past.”

The cherry blossom tree standing tall and proud one the edge of the field is positioned so that anyone who stood in front of his window would get a full view of raining, pink petals.

“Why do you think we remember?” You ask, staring at the petal that fluttered into the room and found itself atop Yoongi’s deep brown lock.

“I’d say fate’s giving us a second chance but you’d laugh at me,” he plainly says, flipping a page of the journal he’s reading.

And laugh at him, you do, “professor, I didn’t take you for a hopeless romantic!”

x

“We both changed, you and I,” you told him over dinner at le Saumon de Bord du Lac.

The piano playing in the background and the dim lighting gives off an atmosphere of a romantic evening. The waiter even thought you were a couple and offered a couple’s discount.

Yoongi being Yoongi, accepted it right away and called you his ‘darling’. Your cheeks burn up for a good fifteen minutes until the wine comes and you finish the whole glass in a few gulps.

“No shit, Sherlock,” he agrees wholeheartedly without even looking up from the menu, “for one, I’m not some apathetic maniac who goes around wielding spears.”

“No, you’re my professor and I’m your student, we should never be caught dead having dinner together,” you shoot him a rebellious grin to which he nods.

“Touche,” he acknowledges.

x

A week later, you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a blonde haired, hazel eyed man approaching you and Yoongi. You’d stepped behind Yoongi’s broad shoulders, the man almost didn’t notice you at all.

He’s supposed to give a talk on neurocriminology –a guest of Yoongi’s.

“Are you okay?” He asks after you’re back in his office, he pulls you away from the spotlight when he notices your forced mechanical smile and fingers tugging at your sleeves.

“I know, right? Why did I get so weird like that?” You laugh to yourself, as though engulfed in your own world.

It doesn’t take a genius to – or perhaps, Min Yoongi was that, so that’s why he successfully – put two and two together and figured out that his esteemed guest is the reincarnation of Namjoon.

The blond didn’t seem to recognize you though.

But that didn’t stop him from taking an interest in you.

“[Name]... that student of yours, is she single?” Namjoon asked when they were out for dinner with the other professors but before Yoongi could even respond, the blond was already laughing it off, “nevermind, forget what I said. You wouldn’t happen to know anyway.”

“Don’t go around flirting with my students, they need to focus on getting a degree first before anything else,” Yoongi jokingly warned.

Something in his stomach twists and turns, as if a snake was slithering around his intestines, spreading its venom all over him.

But that did nothing to stop you and Namjoon from exchanging numbers and going out to brunches and dinners like he did with you. You keep on tugging on her sleeve and pushing your hair to the back of her ear when you spoke to Namjoon at the next talk he was invited to.

Much to Yoongi’s surprise, despite your obvious discomfort, you’re the one who suggested inviting Namjoonfor the new semester and handled all the matters pertaining to the talk.

x

“I don’t want to push you because if I do, you’d drift farther away from me and if I pull, you’ll recoil and take ten steps back –there’s no right way,” Min Yoongi has you trapped between the door and his body one afternoon. Particularly, after he saw the name Joonie flash across your screen as your phone vibrates.

You excused yourself to answer the call but just as your hand touched the door handle, his hand rested on top of yours, stopping you from walking out of his office.

“Wh-what are you saying, professor?” You stammer, the now still phone held in front of your chest.

He thinks he sees the tip of your ear turn red but it could be because of the fading winter air.

It was always uncomfortable to watch you and Namjoon interact but Yoongi attributed it to the fact that one remembered the times they spent together in their past life and the other having absolutely no idea yet still falling for your charms either way.

He twirls a strand of your hair around his index finger before he kisses it, “he may have your heart but I’ve loved you first –I’ve always loved you first.”

“P-professor-!” You exclaim, heels turning and so does your body.

No doubt, your sole purpose of turning around to face him is to caution him of his bold declaration –you were like an open book that Yoongi could just pick up and flip the pages to. You’d always been readable, even back then. Perhaps, that was why it felt like a hand clawed through his chest and wraps its talons around his heart each time you put up walls and turn away his subtle advances.

Because he knows winter has long settled in the hollowed part of your chest.

But because of how he was leaning down to kiss your hair, you end up face to face with only inches apart. There’s no mistaking the blush that spreads across your face, washing away the initial surprise of finding yourself so close to him.

“Call me Yoongi,” he implores with that deep, husky voice of his.

It’s the way he looks at you. Like he’s frightened beyond belief that you’d do exactly what he thought you would; take ten steps back –that makes your heart thump unceremoniously in your chest.

“Y-yoongi… we shouldn’t…” you murmur weakly, eyes tracing his soft lips before snapping up to meet his gaze.

“May I kiss you?” He knows he should let you go to answer the call –what you do and who you see in this lifetime is none of his business.

And yet, he can’t bear the thought of you walking away from him in this lifetime. Not when there’s the second chance he made a pact with the devil for.

Fate and the devil, what difference are there if they meant to serve one purpose?

You nod.

And all of a sudden, he’s back where it all ended. In that garden where roses bore witness to their tragic love affair.

He leans in and presses his lips on your forehead ever so gently –it feels as though if he puts any more pressure, you’d break like you’re made of glass.

“Kiss me for real –if you kiss me on the forehead, it feels like you’re saying goodbye,” your eyes flutter open and your brows join together in protest, he feels you tug on his shirt impatiently.

The softest of smiles graces Yoongi’s lips and you think your heart is going to explode into millions of pieces. Is it not enough that he’s the reason you almost forgot to breathe?

“Wasn’t it you who was itching to run away from me?” He teases, pinching your cheek and just like his hand kisses –you still feel them ghost over the back of your hand every once in a while– his touches are feather light.

“Only because you were an emotionally constipated idiot.” You argue back, lips puckered in protest.

“Then, if I may… my lady…” he trails off, index finger curled under her chin, tilting you face up.

“You may,” you giggle against his lips, arms tracing up the planes of his abs to his chest and find home around his neck as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

x

(“I was only putting up with Namjoon because he’s the head of the criminology department in Incheon –I was thinking of applying for a job there after graduating.” You confess some time later once you’re at le Saumon de Bord du Lac.

“Huh,” Dion blinks, not expecting that.

“Did you think I was going to date him in this lifetime?” You giggle as if you already know the answer, “true, he’s still as handsome as ever, but we did go broke and… I never truly loved him.”

You cast her gaze down, cheeks burning with warmth, shyness overcoming you all of a sudden. If he could, Yoongi would gather her in his arms and embrace her like he’ll never let go.

But he settles with a reach of his hand on top of yours on the table, thumb caressing the spot just below the knuckle of your fourth finger.

“In this lifetime… definitely.”)

x

note. this was shared on a discord server and posted on wattpad under a different pseudonym! 

[cdarkheartzero]

Diary of a Security Guard

For the always wonderful Rissy @rissynicole who I promised this to for being just...amazing.

Prequel found here-

https://cdarkheartzara.tumblr.com/post/622506786343288833

Data log entry 6555

Been watching Zim battle his PAK for a few (days) now. It has been SO mentally exhausting just to see, let alone experience. But that determination to get his PAK legs working. Imma be honest, it’s downright inspiring seeing him spaz, spark and struggle just to get back up n’ try it again once he catches his breath.

He even got Skoodge trying to activate his- few of the other smeets too, actually. I can’t tell whether he knows it or not (he’s pretty oblivious to the world around him so I doubt it), but he has a lot of fans among the youngins. They might find him annoying (cuz let’s be honest here, he is) but he has this unique…. charm(?) to him. Little bastard just doesn’t know when ta quit.

I can see the stress and strain of his struggles are starting to get to him though. He just hasn’t been himself lately. Physically Exhausted. Less destructive (again- lemme be honest- I AM ALL FOR but under normal circumstances). Hasn’t been doing much eating or sleeping. He’s just so fixated on this that it’s basically taken over his entire life. Can’t tell you how many times I have found him in the incubation room the past few shifts, tryin’ so damn hard to stand on his legs he basically passes out.

The smeets should be sleeping now. It’s pretty late and I see all the other guards settling into their seats relaxin’. Now’s the time to piss around, the break we all deserve. Alas, I can’t get that little shit outta my head. The pain on his face. The dedication and exhaustion in his eyes. It’s been burned into my organic brain ever since I had to stun him the first time. I don’t think I have ever been that scared before. I thought… I thought I could have killed him. That he wouldn’t be there the next morning. That this little ball of chaos would be erased from my life. And it was worse than anything I coulda imagined.

I wanna do something for him. I know I shouldn’t. ‘Specially after all the shit he puts me through. And I really shouldn’t play favoritisms but I dunno. There is just something about Zim.

Now, don’t get me wrong. He drives me crazy. He’s a little demon spawn. A selfish little piece of shit. More than once have I seen him sacrifice a playmate to make a quick escape or use poor Skoodge as a flesh shield. His bomb gifts haunt me very soul- I swear I hear them ticking in the walls relentlessly, taunting me. But he brings me such a calming ease. It’s so weird. Like… I wanna ring his neck sometimes but just having his little body in my arms brings me such warmth. His voice makes me want to slam my face against a wall but I honestly can’t fathom it not being there. I just want to be there for him. And do everything in my power to make him as happy as I can.

What did he do to me?

Ugh. I’m pulling my lekku out at my desk. Think, Zara. Think. There’s gotta be something I can do. I’m mindlessly fumbling through my clutter, still rackin’ my brain around what to do next. Suddenly, a sweet scent fills the air and I realize I opened my candy drawer.

Hmmmm…. it’s not much but it’s the thought that counts.

I look over to Kira and tell her imma need to take 5. “Candy break?” She asks, watching me sneak a few pieces away. “Something like that” I reply.

Walking down the hallway to the smeetery felt like an eternity. What do I say? How will he respond? Lord, what if he wakes the other smeets and I gotta clear out my whole snack stash to not upset the others? What if he cries? If his PAK spazes out again, what if I have to shock him again? What if I fail my mission? What will the control brains do to me? what if… what if I have to kill him? How would I live with myself if I...hurt my smeet? Shit. I gotta stop doing that. He’s not MY smeet. He belongs to Irk. I’m just a guardian, nothing more. But… I never want him to leave my side. But he also has a job to do! For Irk! I hope he never becomes an invader. Keep him here, where it’s safe. Maybe the science division or something… hmmmmm.”

“Uhhh…” I hear next to me, a random voice sounding concerned. It breaks my concentration and I see another guard, head slightly tilted, staring at me. “You good, man?”

Oh! Seems I have been standing at the door for some time. I laughed. “Yeah. Sorry. Just got a lot on my mind.”

“It’s cool” she smiled “just don’t let the higher ups catch you wandering around aimlessly.”

“I appreciate it. Thanks!” I said waving as she went about her way. “Higher ups?” Yeah. Not a whole lot of fear there. Nothing can be worse than what we’ve already experienced.

The door opened, inviting me to the darkness of the smeetery. Was it always so cold in here? The only light shines from a few wires and screens on the walls but other than that, it’s pretty pitch black. A totally different feel to the liveliness of the early shift when spirits are high and bodies are active. Luckily, our vision is enhanced in our tubes, far before we go online so nighttime is never an issue for us.

I creep over to the nesting area, where all the little bodies are snoozing (or snoring in Skoodge’s case) and see those ruby eyes staring at the ceiling. I notice his antenna perk and he looks my direction, instantly making a face of aggression.

“What?”

That the hell kinda greeting is that? Little rude shit. I wanna smack him outside his little skull but I take a deep breath and calmly whisper. “Ain’t you supposed to be asleep?”

“That’s none of your business.���

“I’m your guard. It IS my business. Why ain’t you asleep?”

“I’m not tired.”

“Something bothering you?”

“No.”

I can see it written all over his face in glow in the dark paint. “Ah-ha. You really are a bad liar. Is it cuz your legs?”

“NO.” He turned to face away from me.

“Hey. Listen: you’re going to get it. I know you will.”

“But how come Tak could so easily? All mine do is attack me.”

“Just because she got it faster than you, that doesn’t make her better than you.”

“Zim never claimed it did.”

He’s hurt. His words and his feelings are battling against each other. Tak being able to activate her PAK legs without any difficulties was eating him alive but he would never admit it.

“Listen… Zim. It’s going to get easier. You just gotta keep at it. Small steps get you far in life.”

He shrugged, sitting up, curling into himself. “Zim wonders about that sometimes. Maybe… he isn’t meant to get it.”

There it is. “Of course you are.” I said, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. “I believe in you. You are going to find a way. You never give up. I don’t think you know how.”

He looked my way, eyes wide and glassy. SHIT. Imma make him cry!? I didn’t mean to!

“You… you do?”

Huh?

“Of course I believe in you, dummy. And I will be here every step of the way. I got you.” I said, grazing my thumb across his cheek. A smile took the place of that awful frown and his eyes lit. “Here. I got you a little something, but only if you try to get some sleep. You got a long day of training with your PAK and you need all the rest you can get. Oh, and don’t let anyone know I did this.” I said putting my finger to my lips.

I reached into a belt pocket and grabbed a wrapped hard candy. With two fingers I held it in front of him, he looked at it inquisitively. His grubby little hands reached for it and I let him grab it. He stared at it, slowly unwrapping it and Then glanced back at me. I guess he didn’t trust it.

“It’s not drugged or nuthin’. Just some sweets.”

Again, he stared at me.

“What?”

“Your accent is really weird.”

“Just eat the damn candy and shut up” I said, pushing the sweet into his mouth. He just huffed but suckled on.

“Now DON'T cause anymore problems and get some shut eye. I will see you bright n’ early.”

He just puffed his cheeks and rolled over. Think I handled that well. And maybe, hopefully tomorrow will be a better day for him.

Smiled and waved on my way out. Dunno if he saw me but it doesn’t hurt. Walked into the hallway, into dread. Leaned against the wall and slid down.

Us E.L.I.T.E.S can’t disobey orders from the Control brains but… I pray with everything I have in me that things stay like this forever. Cuz’ if i ever had my mission changed or if I had to hurt him… idunno what I would do.

Zara out

[bffsoobin]

Dulce Periculum

➤ Halloween!au, highschool!au, (vague)80s!au, punk!yeonjun x reader, general horror, ghosts, fluff, angst

↳ when yeonjun’s best friend dares the two of you to spend Halloween night camping in the abandoned old school your whole city thought was haunted; you think nothing of it. After all, there was no way the rumors of spirits that would follow you home were true, and you really wanted the prize from winning the bet.

Warnings: general horror themes, breaking and entering, underage drinking and smoking, mentions of drug use, ghosts, mentions of blood, hauntings, creepy shit in general so don’t read if you’re sensitive/not a fan.

Word Count: 4,994

A/N: I hope no one is surprised that I wrote an actually scary Halloween fic 💀 this was so much fun and totally captured all of the things I really love the most! It also felt so good to write another long fic for Yeonjun since I definitely don’t do that enough. As always, I didn’t proof read or edit this, but I hope you all enjoy it anyway! (also pretend this gif is dark hair Yeonjun for the vibes)

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

“Seriously?” Yeonjun lifted a dark eyebrow as he popped a potato chip into his mouth. You held out your hand to silently ask for one that he set in your hand with no hesitation. Your usually populated lunch table was eerily empty today, and even inside the walls of your high school, the chill of the October air had you leaning into Yeonjun’s body to soak up his perpetual warmth. Across the table, Johnny sat on the top of a chair, exaggerating his already insane height as he spoke down to the two of you. 

“Seriously, man! The place is haunted. My cousin went there once a few years ago and-”

A laugh bubbled out of your throat at the sight of tough looking Johnny; donning his classic black leather jacket and silver belt chains, a half burnt cigarette glowing eerily orange at the end with a thin streak of smoke leading it’s way to the ceiling, visibly frightened over the idea of a haunted old school. 

“You’re losing it if you think the place is actually haunted. Johnny. It’s just a town legend for gods sake. People just go there and get high and fuck. It’s called Grave Academy. You think that shit is for real?” You spat, disbelief soaking every edge of your voice. You loved a good horror story just as much as the next fucked up teenager, but there was no fucking way that half burnt building was actually haunted. Beside you, your boyfriend had reduced himself into a fit of giggles, draping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you until you were almost sitting in his lap. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, the cool metal of his lip piercing making your nose crinkle. 

“I love when you act like that,” he whispered, gently biting at the lobe of your ear before laughing even more at the gagging noise Johnny had begun to project into the air. Yeonjun backed away just as suddenly as he had descended on you, taking his scent of mint and smoke with him.

“What’s your point, Johnny? Just tryin to scare us?” Yeonjun asked, balancing his chin on his palms as he stared lazily across the table again.

“The point is a dare,” Johnny began, leaning forward as if he were about to tell a secret only your ears could hear. “I dare you to spend Halloween night at Grave Academy. Then you’ll see how haunted that place actually is.” He took a long drag off of his cigarette, ignoring the pointed throat clearing of a cafeteria worker you knew for a fact smoked at least three a day while sitting in the parking lot. Johnny waved her off and reached into one of his jacket pockets, producing the worn leather wallet that he kept on him like a religious talisman. From its folds he produced a crisp, wonderfully green 50 dollar bill and held it between his fingers. Your eyes widened at the bill, and if it weren’t for Yeonjun’s hand on your thigh stalling you, you would have been launching yourself across the table to snatch it from Johnny. “I bet you,” his voice was muffled around the cigarette, “this 50 dollar bill and a six pack that the two of you couldn’t spend a whole night there without getting spooked.”

You and Yeonjun exchanged incredulous looks as Johnny continued to watch over the two of you. 

“Well, yeah,” Yeonjun announced, standing so abruptly that the chair he had once occupied was sent skidding awkwardly against the tiled floor. He extended a paled, jewelry decorated hand across the table and waited for Johnny to meet it in the middle. As soon as their hands connected, the smirk on Yeonjun’s face widened. “It’s a deal.”

-----

Halloween of ‘87 brought along frigid whipping winds that cut to the bone. You and Yeonjun had layered up in all your warmest clothing but he still had to crank up the heat in his old car as the two of you drove to the abandoned school to meet up with Johnny. With your hands tucked underneath your legs, you grumbled, “it’s way too cold for this shit, Jun.” Still focused on the road, Yeonjun hummed in acknowledgement.

“Got another idea for how to make 50 bucks and get a free case of beer?” He finally glanced over to you, eyebrow arched in question as you pouted. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll warm you up when we get there.” Despite the chill of the air, a warm blush sprouted on your cheeks that Yeonjun only smiled at as he made the final turn before crunching the gravel of the parking lot under the tires. Johnny was already there, leaning against the side of his car with a freshly lit cigarette balanced between gloved fingers. Seconds after Yeonjun parked the car, Johnny was next to it in two large strides, leaning down and knocking on the driver’s side window. Yeonjun pushed the door open, forcing Johnny to step back instead of getting nailed in the legs with the heavy metal. 

“Hello to you too,” Johnny grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest like a scolded child. “Nice of you to finally fucking show up.” Yeonjun laughed as he rounded the car to pop the trunk and haul out the copious amounts of blankets and pillows you had insisted on bringing. 

“What, Johnny? Afraid out here all by yourself?” Your boyfriend teased as you scooped a pile of blankets into your arms. Johnny exhaled through his nose, throwing his hands in the air. 

“Well fuck, Yeonjun. I don’t know, is it wrong of me to be afraid of the ghost of the little kid who literally got possessed and killed all of his classmates? Or the fact that all the kid’s spirits are stuck here? Plus, it’s Halloween so you know...the dead walk among us and shit.” He was shifting on his feet, taking intermittent drags from his cigarette as he spoke. You snickered to yourself, the weight of the blankets in your arms making your muscles a bit sore. 

“Can we just get this over with?” You ask loudly. 

“I would love to,” Johnny nods, patting Yeonjun on the shoulder and gently shoving him toward the old, slightly crumbling building. After the initial fire, the lot had been bought and rebuilt as a halfway house for troubled youth. The company ended up going bankrupt and the building was left to rot. 

“If you two make it out alive, my money and beer are yours.” Yeonjun nodded as a gust of wind ripped through the lot, sending a complaint flying from your mouth as you glared pointedly toward your boyfriend. He took the hint easily, maneuvering his blankets under one arm and placing the other at the small of your back. 

“See ya tomorrow, Johnny,” he waved him off easily, pushing you forward through the rusted, overgrown gate. You heard Johnny peel out of the parking lot just as you and Yeonjun stepped onto the first cement block of steps. An old sign hung at the top of the entrance, paint chipped off in large strips that have disintegrated with time. For a moment, you hesitated, your chunky black boots seemingly stuck to the surface under you. 

“C’mon,” Yeonjun encouraged, walking up the next four steps until he wrapped his free hand around the tarnished iron handle. “Aren’t you cold?” He asked, prompting your feet to move behind him. You wouldn’t admit it to Yeonjun, but a slight feeling of anxiety was beginning to make your palms sweat. Producing a flashlight out of his pocket, Yeonjun readied himself to step into the building. 

The door opened with a high groan, it’s hinges crackling underneath the weight of Yeonjun’s push. From your spot just outside the door, it was hard to understand the layout of what was once considered a grand building. Hiding slightly behind your boyfriend’s broad shoulders, all you could see was part of a staircase which surely had steps rotted away from years of disuse. A sudden fear for the integrity of the floorboards shot through you, and if you had had a free hand, you would have clutched it into the soft material of Yeonjun’s jacket. 

Forever fearless, he took the first step inside the building and hummed thoughtfully. 

“Well,” his dark mass of hair swished around as he looked side to side, “no ghosts that I can see.” You knew he was joking for the sake of your comfort, but you couldn’t bring yourself to rally back as you took a tentative step inside. From this point, you could see the interior of the entry hall in its full glory. 

Wallpaper, which you assumed was once a gentle cream color, was peeling in jagged, messy strips to expose the inner structure of the house. A more recent addition, the various colors of spray paint from other visitors, struck a stark contrast with  Above you, a dangerously loose looking chandelier hung. It was small enough, but still obviously made with a tough metal that had begun to fall down with the water-logged sagging and cracking of the plaster ceiling. The image of it falling down had your stomach churning. Maybe Johnny had been right. 

Slowly, the two of you made your way inside, surveying the floors through the measly yellow light of the flashlight until you found a good spot to place your blankets. Although it was “good” in the sense that there were no massive holes in the wall or ceiling to expose you to the cold, you still felt uneasy. As you set to work laying down a thick patch of blankets to protect you, Yeonjun took a lap around the room to see what he could find. This room, like all of the others, had streaks of spray paint on almost every surface. Most of it was harmless, and it almost gave you comfort to know that so many other people before you had come here and made it back out alive. Not that anyone would miss you or Yeonjun if you didn’t. Another shiver, this one not borne from the cold, ran down your back. Once you’d made a successful little nest, you found the will to walk over to Yeonjun again. 

He was slouched a bit, studying something with a surprising intensity. When you walked up behind him and slipped your hands under his jacket-mostly to warm your hands- he startled a bit. 

“Did I scare you?” You teased, pushing your face into his back as you nuzzled up closer. 

“No, just surprised. Can I steal the flashlight?” Pouting, you handed it over and resumed your snuggling in hopes that he would finally catch the hint. If you were going to be stuck in this creepy house all night you might as well have some fun. The vague thought of stealing a cigarette from Yeonjun’s back pocket crossed your mind, and your hand was well on it’s way until he muttered under his breath. 

“What?” 

“Just- look at this,” his voice was higher pitched, bordering a bit too close on surprised for your liking. Your mind buzzed as you slid to his side to lean into the point of interest. While you were making up the blankets, Yeonjun had been messing with what seemed to be an inconspicuous old blackboard, shut tightly due to years and years of misuse. Somehow, he had managed to slide it open, revealing a second layer of blackboard underneath. For a second, you were going to make a joke about skipping school and forgetting what a blackboard looked like- until you saw the writing. 

Inside the ring of light casted by the flashlight, a sentence made of slightly messy, too close together letters stood. 

“Don’t let him catch you.” 

Neither you or Yeonjun moved as you processed the words. 

“Jun,” your voice was wavering, choked over the tears building in the back of your eyes. “Maybe we should-”

“No, I’m sure it was just someone here before who messed with it. It wasn’t even that hard to push and there were obviously other kids here before us.” He turned on his heel quickly, putting your backs to the wall and taking your hands in his calloused palms. His nose and cheeks were red from the cold, but he still looked the image of perfection. 

“Still cold?” He asked, eyebrow cocked as he leaned imperceptibly closer to you. All thoughts of fear vanished, replaced quickly by the heat that swamped you upon seeing the gleam in his honeyed eyes. You couldn’t ignore the way the black metal of his lip ring glinted in the low lighting. 

“Y-yeah,” you confirmed quickly, tearing your eyes away from his lips just long enough to get the message across. Swiftly, he pressed his lips against your own, the cold brush of his nose skimming against yours making you giggle. He laughed back, using his hands tangled in your hair to keep you steady as he walked you backwards in a direction only he could see, deepening the kiss until you forgot that you were deep in the heart of Grave Academy. 

----

Morning came surprisingly fast after you and Yeonjun had worn yourselves out to your heart’s content. When you woke up, it was to the soft sound of the fall breeze rustling what was left of the leaves on a nearby maple tree. In the stark daylight, the building felt like much less of a scare than it did last night. As you laid on Yeonjun’s chest, blankets piled high over your body for insulation, you almost felt at peace. Even the once ominous looking spray paint on the wall now made you chuckle as you read the curse words and artist tags that overlapped in a rainbow of colors. The movement stirred Yeonjun awake, his eyes blinking slowly until he finally adjusted to the daylight. 

“Hey,” he croaked, voice thick and full with a surprisingly restful night of sleep. “Feel up to a beer later? Celebrate our survival?”

You smacked his chest playfully out of reflex, silently reveling in just how easy this bet with Johnny had turned out to be. Your pile of protective blankets slipped down your back, exposing you to a rush of cold that made you frown. 

“How about we get going? I’m starving.” 

Yeonjun took no more convincing than that, fully motivated by the idea of food. It took almost no time at all to fold up all the blankets and make sure you hadn’t left anything behind. 

“Oh, the flashlight!” You stomped your way back over to the blackboard where you’d left it, feeling much bolder in the sunlight. You pocketed the flashlight easily, tucking it away in the jacket that used to belong to your father. As you straightened back up, you came face to face with the same board that had almost sent you straight home last night, only to see that there was nothing written on it. 

The blackboard stared back at you, totally blank. The cramped, messy words from yesterday night had completely vanished. Not even a trace of wiped off chalk stayed behind to suggest that Yeonjun may have erased the words without you noticing. A sick feeling washed over you, nervousness balling in the pit of your stomach until you felt like you could pass out. 

“Y/N?” Yeonjun called, whining as the blankets weighed him down and his stomach growled. His voice snapped you out of your stupor as you quickly turned, striding toward him in confident steps to assume him- and yourself- that everything was just fine. 

----

“Yeonjun,” you hissed, leaning across your desk to better catch his attention. He turned lazily, half asleep as a result of the 20 year old projector video. “Did you steal my pencil?” You accused, slightly annoyed that he would have the nerve to take one of the very few school supplies you still bothered to bring, even if just for show. His eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head. 

“No, why the hell would I take your pencil? I stopped taking notes in sophomore year. Are you sure you didn’t just drop it?” 

Violently, you shook your head. 

“I already looked, Jun! It’s gone! I literally just had it!” Anger bubbled in your chest as you abandoned all reserve. Yeonjun’s eyes went wide with concern as the teacher turned toward you and shushed loudly. 

You spent the rest of the day in an angered stupor, having to borrow a pencil from the nerdy kid who salivated over you every day in biology. It bothered you much more than it probably should have, but losing the pencil seemed to set off an odd emotion within you. You were many things, but you were never disorganized or forgetful. There was no way you simply lost the pencil. 

----

Senior year crawled by and your missed days of school stacked up quick. You and Yeonjun wasted the days away, sharing cigarettes and liquor bottles until the day was over. On one surprisingly nice winter afternoon, the two of you went for a walk. The route was innately familiar, as you’d been walking it since you were both young children. As you curbed the corner near Mrs. Berger’s house, Yeonjun stopped dead in his tracks. 

“Did you see that?” He asked, grasping at your forearm and making you slip a little on a patch of ice. 

“Did I see what?” 

“That- over there!” Yeonjun pointed toward a patch of bare trees laced with snow. There was nothing odd among them, but he was clearly convinced. “You don’t see that?” He hissed, an edge of fear in his voice that made you glance around for possible threat. 

“No, I don’t. Yeonjun, are you okay?” 

“Seriously, Y/N, now is not the time to fuck with me,” he pleaded, pulling on your arm harder. He was scared. 

“Yeonjun, let’s go, let’s just go back to your house, please, you’re scaring me-”

“SHIT, go go go!” Suddenly he yanked you into the snow covered yard to your right to avoid the slip of ice as the two of you sprinted, hand in hand, not stopping for a second until you reached his home. 

Chests heaving, you sunk to the floor with tears in your eyes. Yeonjun slumped into the couch, hand resting on his stomach as he tried to calm himself. 

“It was-” he gasped loudly, “a little boy. He was wearing like-like a fuckin’ school uniform? Just standing there like a- a little demon. And then he started to walk, and when I realized he was coming near us I just fucking panicked.”

If you weren’t already breathless, the words would have sucked the air right from your lungs. 

Don’t let him catch you.

----

You and Yeonjun had made a vow to never speak of that day again. Silently, you both had an inkling of what was going on, but neither of you wanted to admit it. Who would? 

Two days later, the two of you sat in the parking lot of a fast food joint, passing a cigarette back and forth. Neither of you had slept more than a few hours, and you were starting to feel it as the pull of another tension headache came to wreak havoc. Yeonjun said nothing as you closed your eyes for a few seconds, allowing yourself to succumb to a comforting darkness. The pain began to subside as you let yourself tire, the steady sound of Yeonjun’s breathing lulling you even further. 

Just as sleep began to invade the edges of your mind, a faint whisper sounded. You couldn’t quite make it out, so you just assumed maybe it was the way the wind whipped or your mind filling in some gaps. Just as you relaxed again, the whisper reignited, louder this time. You couldn’t make out the words, but the voice was childish and made your heart race. In a panic, you tried to open your eyes, but they wouldn’t budge. 

“Y/N, why won’t you play with me?” The voice asked. “You came to visit and then you just...left me.” Fear wracked your body the longer you fought against the voice. You knew that you hadn’t fallen asleep. This was not a dream. 

Suddenly, the face of a wide-eyed little boy crowded your vision. His eyes were piercing, upturned nose charming enough to distract you for half a second. But it didn’t take long to register the streaks of blood running from his hairline down to his chin, dripping off in thick drops. It was almost like you could feel them falling down, landing with a wet plop every time. A sick grin split his face, revealing a mouthful of blood just as dark and thick as the stuff running down his face. Your heart was hammering loudly, threatening to burst right out of your chest. Hot tears streamed down your face as you fought against whatever was ailing you. 

“Don’t you want to play?”

Suddenly, like coming up for air from underwater, you were back to reality. The sunlight burned your already sore eyes, washing out your vision so much that you almost didn’t see Yeonjun hovering over you as best as he could within the confines of the car. 

“Holy shit,” he gasped, gathering you into a tight hug as your body shook. “Did you have a nightmare?” He asked, wiping at the tears on your cheeks. 

“I-I wasn’t asleep,” you sobbed, grabbing at his arms desperately. “It was him,” you choked out, shuddering at the thought of that demonic little boy whispering to you. Yeonjun swallowed harshly, slumping back into his seat with a shake in his limbs. 

----

That night, you both skipped sleep. Yeonjun turned on all the lights in his bedroom and made sure that every single door to the outside was locked before you laid down together. On the small screened television a late night program played nonsense that provided welcome white noise. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t forget the image of the little boy dripping with blood. How he called you by your name and implored you to play. 

“I think it’s the same,” Yeonjun finally said. 

“The same?”

“Yeah, the same...the same kid. The one I saw outside, the one you saw. I think it’s the boy who-”

“Please don’t even say it,” you whined, burying your face into his shoulder. Deep down, you knew exactly what he meant. It was a million times scarier to hear it out loud. 

The sound of the talk show host suddenly quieted, television shut off suddenly with a crackle of light. 

“What the fuck,” Yeonjun groaned, getting up to check the outlet he had the unit plugged into. The plug was still secure in the outlet, giving no answer to the sudden end of your background noise. “Maybe the cable went out,” he suggested, dropping the subject as quickly as he began it. He wasn’t much for late night television anyway. On a normal night, he would have tried to make idle chit chat, or maybe even bite a few bruises into the column of your neck; but today he simply laid next to you and played with your hair. 

In what first seemed like a stroke of luck, the television set roared back to life. Both of you sat up in alarm, confused at the sudden change, but you had almost no time to ponder it as the rest of the lights in the room cut, plunging you into a sick darkness. Immediately you cried out, indescribable anxiety crawling up your throat and leaving you speechless. Yeonjun tensed, selflessly guarding your body with his as the television flickered static patterns at you. A high pitched whine emitted from the speakers, prompting you to search the sheets for the remote until the sound stalled. 

With all other sources of light drained, the television seemed to glow as bright as a full moon as scrolls of distorted text began to roll across the screen. They were a bit hard to make out, pixelated and cramped at first, but soon became clear as day in their full form:

YEonJuN, Y/n

WhY wON’t you PLAy WiTH ME? 

YOU CaMe tO visiT mE, BuT yOu DIDN’t StaY. 

I aM LOnEly. 

i KILled aLl OF mY FriENDS.  

Too stunned to react, you simply clutched onto Yeonjun’s shirt for dear life and squeezed your eyes shut in hopes this really all was some awful dream. 

“Holy shit, Y/N, Y/N!” Yeonjun yelled, forcing your eyes open just to witness the sight of the same horrificaly thick and deep red blood you’d seen earlier begin seeping from the top of Yeonjun’s bedroom walls. Everywhere you looked, streams of blood stained his walls red, ruining the collection of poster you’d memorized. The room smelled so strongly of iron that it made you gag, the threat of puking right at the back of your tongue. The television began whining again, high and shrieking until morphing into the sickly sweet voice of a young boy. 

“Don’t you want to play? I promise I’m nice.” 

Upon recieving nothing for a response from either of you, the voice let out a sigh. 

“Fine. I guess I’ll just have to force you to play with me.” 

The television fizzled out again, plunging the room into temporary darkness as both you and Yeonjun shake with fear. As if nothing had even happened, the lights resumed their warm yellowy glow, exposing completely clean walls. 

----

“You two look like shit,” Johnny laughed, picking at the soggy tater tots on his plastic lunch tray. He had recently dyed his hair a deep black, and the dye was still staining the sides of his neck and his hands. “On a bender?” 

Yeonjun gave a noncommittal laugh, eyes downcast as you shrugged loosely. 

“Jesus, some bad cocaine? Did you buy from Taehyung? I told you he’s the worst to-”

“Stop, please,” you groaned, a tension headache permeating from the base of your neck to the top of your head. “You wouldn’t even believe us if we told you.” 

“Try me. I’ve gotten blow from all of Bangtan, they aren’t the most trustworthy all the time, especially that Namjoon guy. He charms you into thinking it’s good and then-”

“We did not buy blow from Bangtan!” Yeonjun exploded, drawing the attention of a few passersby. 

“Oh.” Johnny blinked, shocked by his best friend’s sudden loss of temper. “What’s wrong?”

“Grave Academy,” you mumbled, laying your head on the cold tabletop as Yeonjun rested a steady hand on your back. 

“Huh? You were there months ago.” 

“Yeah, that’s the issue. We were there months ago and we’re both still,” Yeonjun paused, unsure of what to even say. “We’re still getting haunted.” 

“You what?” The hurried scrape of his chair had you looking up again just as he crossed the distance until he was right next to Yeonjun. “My cousin...he- he had the same thing happen.” A sudden edge of sadness overtook his voice and your eyes widened. 

“Really? D’you think this happens to everyone?” Desperation spilled out alongside your words although you tried to stop it. 

“I think...I think that I’m definitely fucking with you.” Johnny laughed, standing back up to his full height as both you and Yeonjun deflated. “My cousin is literally insane. Always has been. So it was no surprise to us when he started ‘seeing ghosts’ and finally got himself carted away.” 

“Fuck you, Johnny.” Yeonjun snorted, pulling you up with him as he left the lunch room in a hurry and waltzed straight out of the school. 

----

“What do we do?” Yeonjun’s eyes were bloodshot, for once a side effect of nothing but lack of sleep. 

“We can run.” You suggested weakly, picking at a loose thread on your sweatshirt. “If we stay here we’ll either get send to the looney bin or murdered. And no one will miss us here, anyway.” Yeonjun knew you were right, but the thought plagued him still. Would running away even help? 

“I guess you have a point.” He surmised, glancing around the home that he had come to run basically on his own. Since the death of his mother, his dad had been reckless and absent, only sending enough money for basics in a manila envelope every few months. If he left, the house would be reclaimed by the town and no one would be any wiser to why the two of you left. Just your run of the mill high school dropouts. 

“I’d rather run away with you than die here.” You added, shrugging again as you imagined some kind of perfectly twisted life traveling the country with Yeonjun, living day to day. “Maybe you can finally start that band and I can be your groupie,” you joked, running your hands through his greasy locks and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll start packing a bag.” 

The next morning, you and Yeonjun said what little goodbyes you had to make. You visited Johnny, telling him an abbreviated lie about a cross-country trip that he bought well enough. If he suspected anything when Yeonjun hugged him for longer than he had in their entire friendship, he didn’t say much. 

The two of you made a stop at the cemetery, bidding farewell to your respective parents, before climbing back into his old Chevy. It was kind of hard to believe that all of your belongings fit snugly into his trunk, but it made escaping that much easier in the end. 

The town you’d grown up in disappeared in the rearview mirror, and as you held Yeonjun’s hand tightly between your own, you hoped that your misfortune would disappear too. 

You would never tell Yeonjun, but even as you drove miles and miles away from Grave Academy, you could still hear the little boy whispering every time you closed your eyes. 

[s-creations]

Return the Flames - Chapter 11

All at Dead Bird Studios knew of Amos' (The  Conductor's) ability. How the owl could suddenly erupt into flames if  angered enough. When the studio first opened, Dominic (DJ Grooves) was  told that Amos had his ability under control. Nothing to worry about. No  possible loss of anything from an open flame.

A few years later however, and that control seems to have lessened to a dangerous degree.

It should have just been a simple, week long drive to fix the problem. It really should have been.

Dominic should have asked a lot more questions and should have been prepared for a twist ending.

_________________

Fandom: A Hat in Time         Rating: General Audience         Relationships/Pairings: The ConductorXDJ Grooves       Warnings: Eventual depictions of violence, slow burn relationship, named characters, attempt of an accent, being hunted down, a race against time (sort of).

Author's Note: This was the chapter I've been waiting forever to write. This is what got me to write this story. This deals with backstories for both characters, so I hope you enjoy it! 

Amos was not happy with the pounding headache he woke up. Sure, he was honestly used to it. Still doesn’t mean he liked it.  He let out a groan, silently berating himself for drinking so much once again, and moved to get up. Only to have something hold him in place. It took a while for his mind to put together that he was pressed against Dominic. The penguin snoring softly, hair a bit of a mess and his sunglasses askew on his face. An arm wrapped around the other director, Amos unable to move away. The owl felt his cheek becoming warmer. Realizing he felt the familiar warmth in his chest growing once again. 

 “And how are we feeling this morning?”

 Further awake and startled into action, Amos was able to break free. Feathers puffing up in embarrassment upon seeing the Elder in the doorway. 

 “...What happened last night?”

 “Ah ah, I asked a question first.”

 Amos really did not like this goat.

 “I have a peckin’ headache. But ‘m honestly used to that. The flame is back. So, whatever was put in me is gone. And ‘m ready for this whole thin’ ta be over with.”

 “That’s a fair assessment. As per your question, you became drunk last night after which you shared a rather… ‘intense’ dance with Dominic. And when you couldn’t support your own weight, you both retreated here. Where I’m going to assume you two just went to sleep.”

 Amos groaned, rubbing his forehead. Why did he feel like a teenager being caught by their parents? “Sounds like it was quite the party.” 

 “You certainly made it one. Now, you made mention that the flame has returned.”

 “Aye.”

 “Then you two will need to finish the rest of your journey. It will only be a one to two day treck. I would recommend you leave as soon as possible. Your car will remain here and you can retrieve it after you’ve returned to the village. But walking would be best in order for you to avoid unwanted attention.”

 Amos sat up further at that. “Do you think they’re here? The agents?”

 “I doubt a pursuer who’s done what they have so far would give up at the end of the line. While the jungle will provide coverage, you two will need to move carefully.”

 “Right...right…”

 “I will have a few packs put together for you. Wake Dominic, you will need to leave soon.”

 Amos merely nodded at that. He attempted to wake his companion as soon as they were left alone. The penguin seemed unconcerned at sharing a bed with the owl when he woke up. More upset about supporting his own headache than anything else. It took awhile for them to collect themselves and join the outside world. Bags waiting for them when they finally emerged.

 “Just head straight for the mountain. You can’t miss it and there are no natural obstacles in your way. Be careful you two.”

 Those were the Elder’s final words before they departed.

 The trek was quiet. Amos caught up in his own head to think about conversing with Dominic. It was both a joy and a strange sorrow in the thought that this ordeal was almost over. 

 He was tired of being chased, being hunted down, being in constant pain. To think it was almost over raised his spirits slightly. Only for it to be stomped back down in fear of what was going to come after. Was he going to survive this? Were he and Dominic an ‘item’, as his daughter liked to say. Were these emotions only being created because of the situation? Did he want it to be real? Was he willing to let someone get close again?

 “It’s getting dark.” Dominic’s voice cut through the buzz in Amos’ mind. The owl looked up to see the sky painted in that familiar colors of sunset. 

 “Uh...yeah, it is…”

 “I’m not a huge fan of tromping through the jungle in the dark. We should set up camp.”

 The owl’s ears twitched. Looking between the sinking sun and the mountain. It was a lot closer than before, they could honestly make it there before tonight fully arrived if they wanted to. But if Dominic wanted to sleep, Amos wasn’t going to argue.

 “Sure… One more night of peace?”

 “Yeah, something like that.”

 They fell quiet after that. A small, smokeless fire was soon burning away between the two. The sky a deep purple with stars starting to dot the night sky. With how wide and ever expanding space seemed to be out here, Amos was becoming nervous. There was no coverage of a hotel or a hut to keep the night sky away. The constant reminder just hanging over his head.

 Letting out a sigh, Amos reached over and dug further into his bag. Another sigh, this time of relief, sounded as he pulled out a familiar fermented fruit. “Maybe the old goat wasn’t too bad. Heads up Dominic.”

 The penguin fumbled slightly as he caught the said fruit, voicing his frustration with a deadpan, “Really.”

  “One final hurrah.”

 Dominic frowned as he watched Amos take a large bite of his own fruit. The penguin let out a soft sigh, deciding the owl may have a point, and took a bite as well. While he was able to hold his own and cut himself off when he needed to, Dominic was soon supporting a flushed face and a drunken owl. Laughing and beaming as he joined the other in singing shanties that they both only knew a few words to. Or that their drunken mind was making them forget the words. 

 As they belted out the final note, they collapsed onto the ground. Lying head to head as they laughed, slowly calming down as they stared up at the sky. Even with what felt like impending doom was on the horizon, Dominic was happy at that moment. He wasn’t sure how this was going to end. But, at the moment, he just wanted to enjoy the atmosphere. The calm, the quiet, the false peace with the possibly threat being mere steps away from where they lied. 

 He let out a yawn, feeling himself starting to drift off…

 “Ma couldn’t have kids.”

 Dominic flinched slightly. He rolled his head to the side to look at Amos. “Pardon?”

 “She couldn’t have kids,” Amos repeated, “No matter how many times she tried. Or how badly she wanted it. Nothin’ worked. Married three times. Got the reputation as a bed hopper. ...I think she thought that havin’ a kid would brin’ her some kind of happiness in her life…”

 “In a final desperation, she prayed for a higher power to help. And the Celestial Phoenix appeared… She was pregnant the next day. Ostracized the day after. Who ever heard of a God appearing before a divorced and ‘bed warmer’? She told me she didn’t care because she was so happy ta be carryin’ me. Then I was born and… I honestly think I made everythin’ so much worse.” 

 “Amos…” Dominic frowned, unsure of what he could say.

 “Ya can’t look at this ugly mug and tell me this is a solver of problems. I honestly believe I made things worse. I was the demon child created from wedlock with a mother who’s insane. We had to leave the backwash of a town when our house was burnt down. Ma was mentally broken when I was a teenager and only became worse with her age. ‘M pretty sure she was gone before she finally passed away.”

 “My wife left when Amelia was born. She...the wife...married me in a sort of novelty. A stab at her stuffy family by havin’ a monstrous thing be her husband instead of nobility. But when Amelia held more of my features then was ‘acceptable’, the wife had to leave. She couldn’t handle it. I raised Amelia the best I could. I was hopeful she could have a happier, easier life than what my childhood was.” 

 “Only for her husband to leave. Because Amelia fell ill after givin’ birth to all the kids. It was too much responsibility for him. ...She’s always smilin’. I do wonder sometimes how she turned out so perfectly. When she has a...a curse of a father. Because that’s what I am. ‘M a curse. I shouldn’t even be here! Only divine intervention brought this monster into reality. So the laws of nature themselves had to be broken. And all it produced was a cursed, hideous creature that is me. My own body is even tryin’ to tear itself apart. I’ve been tryin’ to destroy myself since I was born and no one is safe. ‘M a walkin’, tickin’ bomb of destruction.”

 Dominic swallowed weakly, feeling sick as he watched Amos breakdown. What was he supposed to say? What could he say?

 “My father is an ice tycoon.”

 Amos slowly looked over to the flushed penguin. 

 “What?”

 “Ah, so… That largest commodity from the Moon is ice.”

 “I know that.”

 “Right, well, it only comes from three different families. Mine being the top company, run by my father. We’re the typical high brow, snooty people you’d think of. Appearance is everything to us. We have to be as clean as the ice we produce.”

 Amos sat up slowly, swaying slightly. “Ya can’t control the creation of ice that closely. It’s ice.”

 Letting out a small huff and sitting up as well, Dominic laid his hand out flat, palm up. The owl let out a chirp of shock as a chunk of ice was formed. Resting directly in the center of Dominic’s hand. “We can make our own ice. Quite literally.”

 “No peckin’ way… Wait, did ye make that wall of ice before? When those government goons were chasin’ after us?”

 “Uh...yeah. I really only intended to make the road slick and trip them up. I was a little on edge at the moment.”

 “That was peckin’ amazin’.”

 Dominic laughed softly. “It...just comes naturally.”

 Amos laughed this time, almost falling back onto the ground if Dominic hadn’t kept him upright. “Peckin’ amazin’... So, yer loaded right? Ice companies make a lot.”

 “No… I’m disowned,” Dominic’s feathers puffed at the owl’s raised brow, “Parents weren’t happy that I wanted to become a movie director. I’m the oldest of four and the only male. I was supposed to take over the business. But I made it very clear how I wasn’t interested with it in any way. So, I was given a choice. Join the business or never talk to them again. And...here I am…”

 It fell quiet for a moment. Dominic had never told anyone this before. Not even his Moon Penguins knew his full story. They were just aware that the director wasn’t on good terms with his family. But, if Amos was sharing the sacred life’s story, why shouldn’t Dominic?

 “I didn’t know ya had siblings.” Amos eventually voiced. 

 “Well, I didn’t know you were part mystical fire being. So I guess we’re even.” Dominic teased, smiling hearing Amos laugh at that.

 “That’s fair. Ta be fair to myself, however, I never thought I would be in a situation like this.”

 “We were also never on good speaking terms with each other before either.”

 “Aye, another fair point. Did ya ever think how weird it was that we both were given the same studio?”

 “Oh absolutely! We really should have gone to the main office to complain about that.”

 “But then we would have argued about who would be kicked out first.”

 “It would have been you for sure.”

 “As peckin’ if!” They shared another laugh at that. Amos eventually leaned over to rest himself against Dominic. The penguin welcomed the contact. “...Tell me about your siblings.”

 “Three sisters.”

 “Oh, fun.” 

 “Hey, how do you think I came across this amazing sense of fashion?”

 “Thought you were color blind to be honest.”

 “How rude.”

 Amos chuckled before pushing Dominic gently. “Anyway, three sisters?”

 “Abigail is only one year younger than me. We were very close growing up. She had a backbone sturdier than I could ever hope for and stuck up for me when our parents started their ‘talks’. As far as I can tell, she’ll be taking over the business… I hope she’s okay with that.”

 “She sounds like a business woman.”

 “I think you’d get along with her. Shila’s next. If you think I’m a diva, you need to meet her. If attention wasn’t on her at all times, she would throw an absolute fit. She was actually one of my first actresses. Gave me my first headache too.”

 Dominic paused to listen to Amos laugh softly. He really loved that sound. “Last is Bethany. I don’t really remember much of her. She was only two when I left. I do remember she was very quiet. With wide curious eyes. I really hope she was able to keep that curiosity…”

 “Abigail made sure to do so, no doubt in my mind. If she was as determined to keep ya safe, ‘m sure that focus went to Bethany as well.”

 “I hope so… I hope they’re all okay…”

 “‘M sure they are.”

 The penguin hummed softly, attention on the large, luminous sphere that was above them. Amos shuffled closer, his chin resting on Dominic’s shoulder. His attention going to the same place. “...Do you miss them?”

 “Every day.”

 “Have you tried to find them? Talk to them?”

 “I think they’re on the Moon still...and I’m not overly fond with contacting that place.”

 “Honestly, that’s fair.”

 Giving another hum, Dominic reached up and scratched behind Amos’ ear. The owl let out a small chirp as he pressed closer. “...Did you ever think your life would end up like this?”

 “I knew I would eventually have to travel here. Another burden to carry because of my birth right. But I wasn’t expected to be hunted down…or the company… I know I don’t say it. In fact, I’ve said the opposite a lot. But…’m glad you came.”

 “More of I berated you to let me come because you’re so stubborn.”

 Amos laughed. “Ya got me there…”

 “...I’m glad I came along as well. I would have been worrying the entire time.”

 “I’d probably be dead at this point if you hadn’t come.”

 “That’s frightening to think about,” Dominic frowned, wrapping his arm around the other. “Do you think we could call this feud over? I’m...honestly so tired of it.”

 “Yeah… ‘m too. It should have ended a long time ago…”

 “We’re both just two, old, stubborn fools.”

 “Oi, easy on those adjectives.”

 “I’m describing both of us. Calm down… How do you think the crew will react?”

 “Shocked but absolutely thrilled. I think everyone's more over this than we are.”

 Dominic laughed at that. “Yeah, probably. We should make a movie together. After all of this.”

 “Ah...kind of a big step.”

 “But I think it’s an appropriate one.”

 “...Yeah...yeah, I think it is too.”

 They fell quiet once more. A warm, happy buzz falling over them. Dominic’s eyes on the dancing fire while Amos’ remained on the Moon. Both falling asleep curled next to each other as the luminous orb traveled over them.

[fmdtaeyong]

like a rockstar : taeyong marketing breakdown

a headcanon & playlist on how titan’s taeyong is marketed as a product and brand.

headcanon

word count: 491 words, not counting the tvtropes quote.

a successful celebrity can’t exist without marketing. some celebrities are all marketing. ash, for one, wouldn’t be where he is today without bc entertainment’s well-oiled marketing machine painting him in a desirable light and smoothing out his rough edges into something shiny.

the image the name taeyong provokes now isn’t quite the one it would have provoked a few years ago. the role of maknae burdened ash’s image for years. a sense of brightness is expected of any idol, but the youngest of a group is expected to show it, even in a group like titan that has never been about bright concepts. whether that means being babied by the older members or having a certain underlying innocence to him.

when he went solo was when his image gravitated further away from being dictated by his place within a group. as he earned recognition for his own name (or rather, his own stage name) and got attention from a new crowd, he was able to pave a path that painted with the brush of an artist, a little less bound by preconceived notions about his role in titan. when the scandals stamped to his name went from fumbling over formalities and dating a well-loved actress to controversies less easily painted as endearing that came at the same time he began to present himself differently visually, bc had to bank on the leeway of an artist tinge to his image saving him.

ash has never been marketed as an ideal boyfriend. titan has that covered in the group already and an outed relationship before he’d begun to make a name for himself individually prevented that from being a rational path. some fans still fall into the trap of babying him, but overall, taeyong is now known as the more serious and reserved type. satisfactory fanservice is a non-starter, so they make their own fantasies out of his mystery and “edginess” and a brooding stage persona. bc has done damage control where they’ve had to and let his music and fan projections paint the rest.

out of all of the classic boy band member tropes, ash would solidly be considered a purveyor of the bad boy / rebel trope within titan and out of it for that matter. to quote tvtropes:

“the one with a rougher edge to him. he's the one wearing the black shirt and jeans or leather jacket in those videos where they're not all wearing matching clothes. if he's really edgy, he may also have a tattoo. put in to cater to those girls who want bad boys.”

 bc read the first two paragraphs of the tv tropes page for all girls want bad boys and said ‘yeah, this should work’. the bad boy / rebel angle tends to get played up within fandom a lot more than among more casual listeners to his music, who get a heavier dose of the ~artist~ part of his image since that’s meant to appeal to them more anyway.

ash has very purposefully been trying to lean more into the artist aspect of his image lately because he isn’t a fan of being painted as some kind of bad boy fantasy when he doesn’t consider that an accurate representation of him at all.

playlist

this playlist gives a semi-chronological cataloging of the image associated with taeyong since around 2016/2017. some parts of his image have remained consistent, while others have changed either by purposeful marketing, unavoidable consequences of media discussion around him, or simply altered fan narratives for him. some parts of this are less about how he’s marketed and more about very one-dimensional fan narratives crafted around him, but overall it gives an idea of the feeling associated with him as a product and brand. (some of these songs were used in image playlists on ash’s previous blog, but i made sure at least seven of these are new. i wanted to include ones i’d used before as well for a comprehensive look on his new blog since some aspects of his image have changed.)

this honestly also doubles as a list of the songs you’d find the most results for if you looked up taeyong fan edits.

i. death of a bachelor | i’m cutting my mind off, feels like my heart is going to burst / alone at a table for two, and i just wanna be served / and when you think of me, am i the best you've ever had?

ii. daydreamer | a jaw dropper / looks good when he walks / is the subject of their talk / he would be hard to chase / but good to catch / and he could change the world / with his hands behind his back, oh

iii. wildest dreams | he's so tall and handsome as hell / he's so bad, but he does it so well / i can see the end as it begins

iv. style | cause you got that james dean daydream look in your eye / and i got that red lip classic thing that you like / and when we go crashing down, we come back every time / cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style / you got that long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt / and i got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt

v. crazy beautiful | and he picks you up / and he sets you down / and that's the way / he thinks and he walks and he plays around downtown / but the truth is, he's still got a scar / as plain as others / to get his way to a scarlet heart

vi. ready for it...? | knew he was a killer first time that I saw him / wondered how many girls he had loved and left haunted / [...] / some boys are tryin' too hard, he don't try at all though / younger than my exes, but he act like such a man, so

vii. radio | now my life is sweet like cinnamon / like a fuckin' dream i'm livin' in / baby, love me 'cause i'm playing on the radio / how do you like me now?

viii. like i would | he, won't touch you like i do / he, won't love you like i would / he don't know your body / he don't do you right / he won't love you like i would / love you like i would, like i would

ix. i wanna be yours | secrets i have held in my heart / are harder to hide than i thought / maybe i just wanna be yours / i wanna be yours

x. strange love | they think i'm insane, they think my lover is strange / but i don't have to fucking tell them anything, anything / and i'm gonna write it all down, and i'm gonna sing it on stage / but i don't have to fucking tell you anything, anything

xi. my oh my | yeah, a little bit older, a black leather jacket / a bad reputation, insatiable habits / he was onto me, one look and i couldn't breathe, yeah / i said, if he kissed me, i might let it happen

xii. bad reputation | i don't give a damn 'bout my reputation / never been afraid of any deviation / and i don't really care if you think i'm strange / i ain't gonna change

xiii. starboy | i'm tryna put you in the worst mood, ah / p1 cleaner than your church shoes, ah / milli point two just to hurt you, ah / all red lamb' just to tease you, ah / none of these toys on lease too, ah / made your whole year in a week too, yah / main bitch out of your league too, ah / side bitch out of your league too, ah / [...] / look what you’ve done / i’m a motherfuckin' starboy

xiv. into it | i'm just fucking lucky i was born with it / a hundred million people couldn't deal with this

xv. like a rockstar | put me in designer then put me in the dirt / keep my legacy alive like a rockstar / lifestyle, on the edge, can be unforgiving / see i worship the dead, they worship the living, yeah

[improvidus]

Like a Bridge Over Troubled Waters | Oneshot

Rating | K+

Warnings | None

Genres | H/C, friendship, family

Characters | Christopher LaSalle, Dwayne Pride

Relationships | Christopher LaSalle x Dwayne Pride (friendship)

Word Count | 3K

Summary: With two full-time jobs and the investigation into his family's company, Christopher LaSalle is beyond exhausted. Pride decides it's time to stage an intervention. Takes place in early S5.

"You always were a party animal."

The team was gone, the bar was closed, the lights were low, and Christopher LaSalle sat alone, the epicenter of a semi-organized explosion of paperwork that spilled across nearly every inch of the table he occupied. At the sound of Pride's voice, he looked up and stretched, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes. He huffed. "Yeah, well. Not anymore. Lately my nights are filled with a whole lotta...this." He flung out a hand to indicate the chaos surrounding him.

"You've been goin' pretty hard, Christopher. For a long time, now." Pride dragged a chair out and straddled it, gazing at LaSalle with what Percy used to call his 'concerned basset hound' face. "Why don't you head on home? Get some rest."

"I'll be alright, King. I gotta get this stuff squared away with the IRS."

"I know. That's what I'm talkin' about. NCIS, your family's company—" LaSalle appreciated that Pride never referred to it as his company. "You've got two fuller than full-time jobs and now all this, too. You're burning the candle at both ends, and I suspect the middle's gonna catch up wit' you sooner than you're thinkin'."

LaSalle ran a hand over his face. "I know, King. I do. I just—I don't see what I can do different. My family needs LaSalle Enterprises. Not to mention all the employees who're depending on it to keep them and their families afloat. And NCIS…" He trailed off, studying the grain of the wood where a bit of table peeked through the sea of paper. His voice grew quiet. "Well, I need that. Keep me afloat."

When he looked up, Pride's eyes were smiling. "An' we need you. Always. But if you need to take a break an' deal wit' all this—we'll manage. And we'll be around when you're ready to come back."

"I appreciate that, King. But I'm good. Really."

Pride did not appear to be convinced. "Christopher. When was the last time you—"

"The last time I what, slept?" LaSalle bristled. "Don't do that."

Pride drew back a little. "Don't do what?"

"Don't try to take care of me."

Pride let out an incredulous bark of laughter. "Christopher, I'm always gonna take—"

LaSalle cut him off, surprised by the sudden irritation flaring in his chest. "No, I know, that's not what I mean. You're always tryin' to take care of everybody, but you never stop to take care of yourself. At least, not lately. You think I don't see it? I know you, King! How many times, how many cases, have you told me that I couldn't take care of anybody if I wasn't takin' care of myself? Well, I'm pretty dang sure that isn't a principle that applies exclusively to me! I know you haven't been sleeping either, so don't be all up on my back about it!" He took a breath.

Pride was staring at him.

There was an awkward beat.

LaSalle deflated a little. "Look, it's not like I don't wanna sleep. Believe me, I want to. I just…" He let out a mirthless huff. "I don't have time to sleep. And when I do…" He trailed off and shook his head. Pride didn't need to know about the nightmares.

Pride was quiet, waiting for something.

But LaSalle didn't have anything to give him. He tapped his fingers on the table once, twice. Then the fight drained from his shoulders, and he put his head in his hands. He wouldn't have thought it possible, but he felt even more wiped out than he had a few minutes ago.

"Christopher." There was a hand on his shoulder. He lifted his head, but a few moments ticked away before his eyes flicked up to meet Pride's. The hurt he had expected to see there was nowhere to be found. Only concern shined back at him. Fourteen years, and the patience of this man still blew him away sometimes.

A wave of regret washed over LaSalle. "I'm sorry, King. I know you're tryin'. It's not fair for me to take this out on you. I just...Well, I wish you'd take some of your own advice every once in a while." A sigh shuddered free, unbidden. "And as far as work goes..." He shook his head and rubbed at his chin. "Well, the truth of the matter is, I'm afraid if I give the company my full attention, it's gonna suck me up and never let me go." He shook his head once more, meeting Pride's eyes, now. "If it's all the same to you, I'd just as soon stick around."

Pride smiled, but LaSalle knew him well enough to spot the worry mostly concealed behind the crinkled, twinkling eyes. "Always happy to have you."

LaSalle nodded, somewhat relieved. Then the time, lit up in the lower-right corner of his laptop, caught his eye and he straightened. "Shoot, King! I had no idea what time it was. You must be waitin' to get to bed."

Pride shrugged. "Nah. It's like you said. I haven't been sleepin' much either. You're welcome to keep workin'. Here." He tossed LaSalle a fob of keys and rose, grunting, to his feet. "I'm gonna get a shower. Lock up when you finish?"

"Sure thing."

Pride squeezed LaSalle's shoulders as he passed his chair. "Don't stay up too late."

"Yes, Dad."

Pride chuckled and LaSalle smiled, but then the attic door clicked shut and he was alone with his exhaustion and a mountain of trouble in the form of receipts, bank statements, and a whole lot of zeroes. The glare from his laptop suddenly seemed blinding, and he rubbed at his eyes again as a long-pent up sigh burst from his lips. Times like these, he wished he'd never given up coffee.

                                                          ***

Dwayne Pride pulled a clean t-shirt over his head and sighed.

Christopher was right; he knew that. It was hypocritical of him to scold his friend for pushing himself too hard when he was doing the same thing to himself. Remove the log from your own eye…

He shook his head. Well, it was easier said than done.

He had seen the exhaustion pulling at Christopher ever since his father's death, since LaSalle Enterprises had fallen squarely on his unwilling shoulders. And in the weeks after Pride had been shot, there had been something else, too—a hollowness in Christopher's eyes amidst the relief, dimming the sparkle he could usually count on finding there. Lines and shadows had formed around his eyes, ones that Pride knew from years past—and more recently, personal experience—meant nightmares.

Like the scars Amelia's bullets had inflicted on Pride's body, the shadows faded over time, but the weariness remained and deepened as the burden of the investigation into LaSalle Enterprises grew in size and weight. Something had to change, and soon.

He could order Christopher to take time off, get things sorted, but he suspected the team was the only thing holding Christopher together right now. His words of fifteen minutes ago were all but an admission.

Pride reached for his towel as an idea took seed in his head. He mulled on it for a minute or two, giving his hair a few brisk shuffles before returning the towel to its hook and heading for the kitchen. If he played his cards right, maybe he could lull Christopher into catching some sleep without his getting wise. It was a temporary fix, but a far sight better than no fix. He opened the squeaky cupboard above the stove and reached for the hot chocolate.

While milk—braced with a generous dose of heavy cream—warmed on the stove, Pride took his Fathers' Day mug from Laurel down from the shelf by the coffee maker. A flash of red caught his eye, and he moved another cup aside to reveal Christopher's Alabama mug. He pulled it down, cracking a grin as he ran his thumb over the slightly scratchy paint of the Crimson Tide emblem. Roll tide. He wasn't actually sure when—or how—the mug had made its way into his kitchen, but he did know it had been there for a very long time. Boy'd probably left it in the truck, or something.

The milk began to hiss and he dropped a few scoops of cocoa in, mixing until the dark globs disappeared. When the mugs were filled, he dunked a stick of cinnamon in each and stirred them around a bit. He paused to wipe up the small mess he had made when he poured the mugs and then headed back down the stairs to collect his drinking partner.

"Chris? I've gotta fresh cup of hot chocolate up here, and it's got your name all—" he reached the last step and looked up, stopping in his tracks. "—over it."

The makeshift workplace was even more disheveled than when he had last seen it. Several of the stacks of paper had been toppled over, loose pages floating to carpet the barroom floor. There was a file folder there, too, its contents fanned out amongst peanut shells and crushed pretzels.

In the middle of this chaos, Christopher LaSalle slept, face pillowed on his keyboard, one arm flung out across the table, the other curled around his laptop.

Pride huffed, a smile lining his face as a feeling too large for his heart to contain swelled in his chest and prickled his eyes. Christopher LaSalle had come such a long way from the angry young detective he had met over a decade ago. He had become family. Pride would trust him with his life—with Laurel's life, even. They had been through hell and back together, and Pride took a moment to thank God for this Jonathan of a friend.

On an impulse, he pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the camera app, turning on the flash before snapping a photo. Neither the sudden burst of light nor the unnecessarily loud shutter sound did anything to rouse the sleeping man. Pride swiped to the photo and grinned. Whether to share with the team or to save for himself, it was a keeper. At the very least, he'd be sending it to Laurel.

He was reluctant to wake his friend, but he reasoned that he'd have a much better chance of sleeping through the night if he did his sleeping on Pride's couch rather than on his keyboard. At the very least, he'd have fewer cricks in the morning.

"Christopher." There was no response, and Pride stepped around the table to try again. Motion on the laptop's screen caught his eye. A text document was open, reading simply, "jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj." Even as he watched, it filled the remainder of the page and moved on to the next. He smirked. "That'll show 'em." Shaking his head, he put a hand on Christopher's shoulder. "Chris?" He knelt and shook him a little. "Christopher. Hey, son."

It took a bit more prompting, but eventually Christopher stirred, inhaling sharply. His left eye—his right was squeezed shut by his cheek plastered to the keyboard—cracked open and blinked in confusion for a moment before he frowned and lifted his head. Little squares were imprinted on his cheek where the keys had pressed. A few pages drifted to the floor on the breeze he caused as he sat up.

"Hey." Pride smiled at him and did his best to swallow the laughter that rose in his throat at the bleary grin Christopher offered him in return.

"Hi."

"You sleepin' good there, m'brother?"

Christopher squinted and looked around the empty bar. His frown deepened.

This time, Pride didn't quite manage to catch the chuckle before it escaped. "C'mon, son. Let's get you someplace you can lie down."

Christopher mumbled a hazy "'kay," but Pride was fairly sure the kid hadn't actually understood his words.

He tried again. "Can you get up an' walk wit' me upstairs?"

Christopher nodded. And made no move to comply. In fact, after a moment or two of blinking blankly at Pride, his head returned to the keyboard with a dull clunk. This time, the h key was sent on a marathon.

Shaking his head, Pride allowed himself another chuckle. At the moment, Christopher resembled nothing more than a toddler who'd been awakened too early from a nap. When his eyes fell closed again, Pride stood and took him gently by the arm.

"Alright, okay. Let's go." With some difficulty, he coaxed Christopher up and guided him towards the stairs.

"Case?"

Pride gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Nope. No cases tonight. Just sleep."

Halfway up the stairs, Pride was cursing himself for neglecting to have the new banister installed as he barely managed to catch Christopher when his clumsy steps nearly led him right over the edge. A few stumbles and catches and grunts later, they made it to the top and Pride reached around Christopher to push the door open. He wrestled his friend inside and kicked the door shut behind them.

"Kin'?"

"Yeah, Christopher," Pride strained, doing his best to abort Christopher's collision course with a bookcase.

"'M really tired."

Course corrected, they made their way into the living area. "I know it, Christopher. We're gonna get you some sleep, okay?"

Christopher nodded as Pride propped him in the corner between the wall and the bookcase. "Stay put." When he was sufficiently that convinced Christopher would topple over when he let go of him, Pride turned to gather up the sheet music scattered across the couch and transfer it to the piano bench. "Over here, Christopher."

Christopher obediently sat down on the edge of the couch, hands planted against the cracked leather on either side of him. Pride felt his bewildered gaze on his back as he entered the bedroom and re-emerged with a pillow and a quilt. He placed the pillow against the arm of the couch and patted it. "Lie down."

The younger man shook his head in a petulant way that brought the photo of seven-year-old Christopher, barely-visible in his big brother's football gear, flashing through his mind's eye. Then Christopher set his jaw, and the little boy disappeared. "This ain't right."

Pride frowned. What did that mean? He had no way of knowing if Christopher was referring to his obvious state of disorientation or something deeper, but he decided answers would have to wait until they had both had some sleep. Instead, he looked his friend in the eye and infused his voice with all the conviction he had in him. "This is exactly right." He held Christopher's eyes until he saw a flicker of understanding, and then he gave the pillow another pat. "Now lie down, son."

This time, Christopher complied, face crashing into the pillow, eyes slipping closed—and feet remaining on the floor. Pride waited a moment for him to kick his shoes off and pull them up, but Christopher was still. Like a light, Pride thought with a smirk. Kneeling, he pulled off Christopher's shoes before taking his ankles and swinging them onto the couch. He watched Christopher's face as he shook out the quilt and laid it over the boy.

The weariness that Pride had seen in his face earlier was gone, replaced by an expression so peaceful it bordered on serenity. If before Pride had thought he looked ten years older, he now looked ten years younger. The lines of stress and sadness, engraved by years on a job that had given him a front-row seat to all the worst the world had to offer, were softened in sleep. Only the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth remained distinct, and Pride smiled.

He made one last trip downstairs to lock up and shut off the lights, pausing by Christopher's abandoned workspace. He saved the open documents, opting not to erase the gibberish inflicted by his friend's impromptu nap. Something to tease him about, later. Then he powered down the laptop and put the papers—as much in order as he could figure—back into the accordion folder at the foot of the chair Christopher had occupied.

He carried these things upstairs and placed them alongside his sheet music on the piano bench before the scent of cinnamon and cocoa drew him back to the kitchen. He poured the not-so-hot chocolate into a pitcher, cinnamon and all, and put it in the fridge for another night, another dilemma. His job had been much easier than expected, tonight. A yawn swelled in his throat as he placed the mugs in the sink and filled them with water.

Pride checked on Christopher one more time on his way to his room. He slept soundly, one arm dangling over the edge of the couch, feet up over the arm at the end. The glow from neon lights outside the window cast his face in squares of cool blue and flickering yellow. Pride bent down and took his wrist, gently folding his arm back beneath the quilt. He put a hand on the younger man's back.

"Sweet dreams, Christopher." God knows they're precious.

A few minutes later, he was in his own bed, his partner of years asleep in the next room. Outside, someone played "Like a Bridge Over Troubled Water" on a tenor sax. He closed his eyes.

And for the first time in many weeks, Dwayne Pride slept deeply and free of dreams.

A/N: Welcome to my brand-spankin’-new NOLA blog! This fic is my first foray into this fandom, and I’d love to hear y’all’s thoughts! I’ve got another one well underway, as well as a long-ish series in the brainstorm stages.

The events of this fic are largely based on real-life experiences that I do not recall because I was still so sleepy I was falling all over the place. Ironically, my beta was falling nodding off at her laptop whilst reading about Pride making hot chocolate, which is about the point Christopher was doing the same thing downstairs.

Speaking of my my beta, you should all go check out the brilliant, brilliant Mellia Bee on AO3 and FF.net. Her Steggy stories are the bomb, and a huge part of why I started writing fanfic.

The Scripture Pride references is from Matthew 7:5, and because it’s probably kind of obscure, “Jonathan of a friend” was referring to the best friend of David, Israel’s most famous king. Jonathan really stuck his neck out for David, helping him at great danger to himself. You can read about them in 1 Samuel. And finally, the photo of small Christopher was just me throwing in a nod to Lucas Black’s role in Friday Night Lights. I’ll try to post the actual photo, because it’s really stinkin’ rotten adorable, and y’all must see it.

Apologies for the long A/N! Thank you for reading this, and thank you in advance to anyone who takes the time to comment! Feedback is soul-food, like pecan pie, and it keeps le old gears turning. While we’re on the topic of food, don’t forget to eat today, lovey human! Drink your water, take your vitamins, eat an orange. I love you. Jesus loves you. Hang in there.

Author out.

My FF.Net page:

https://www.fanfiction.net/u/12357741/

My AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project7723/works

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

FFT: patchwork heart; roman reigns

Notes:

Another ask that came in on my main and subsequently got buried below layers and layers of my bullshit. I was kinda feeling the idea of Alpha!Roman, but.. So many people have ‘already gone there’ til I’m not sure if I can say whether I would or not. It’s certainly something to consider.

Summary:

Eve and Seth were a couple but they broke up. As per usual, Seth was quick to move on, Eve is just kind of.. Finding her footing again. When Seth starts a confrontation in the airport -with the help of Mandy Rose, and Roman steps up, it gets Eve and Roman to talking.

Pairing:

Roman Reigns x OFC, Eve

Warnings:

uhh, none?

2 weeks downtime and not one single call. Not a text, nothing. It really blew her mind how Seth would  just willingly throw away what they had. And then, on top of it, not only blame her for it ending, but do all he could to paint himself the ‘victim’ in their relationship. The thought sneaked it’s way into her head and frustrated, Eve sighed and wrinkled her nose, continuing down the path that thought had her going down..

… then again, he had one foot out the door for the last year of it and I know it…

With that thought to finish things for the moment, Eve picked up her bags and started to make her way towards the check in area, avoiding as many of her co workers as she could in the process.  God knows, they probably all took his side. Everyone here does. Seth never does a damn thing, it’s literally any and everyone else’s fault… that thought had her scowling to herself. She swore to herself she was going to just let this roll off her, hide out until it all blew over. And what was she doing? Standing in the middle of a crowded airport, letting Seth Rollins win all over again.

The tap to her shoulder had her turning and the glare came easily as she stared up at Mandy Rose.

“Didn’t you cause enough damage before we left for downtime? Next time you want someone all to yourself, life pro tip, you blithering idiot.. At least try to find something true to run back and tell your target. I mean… Me and Roman, seriously? The guy thinks I’m an annoyance, at best…”

… does what she said really matter?…

… he obviously believed it…

… the funny thing is, what upsets me most is that I truly do believe that Roman thinks I’m an annoyance… Two weeks ago, it was Seth and me fighting… maybe the time away was good for me…

Mandy shrugged and sighed, giving her one of those condescending looks. “Are you still accusing me of that? Gosh, so pathetic, get a life.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything, I’m stating facts. Now move, Mandy or I’ll - “ her statement was cut off by someone clearing their throat from behind. Roman stood there, Seth not too far away. Seth barely even looked at her, and Eve made herself stare at anything but her former boyfriend.

… Nope, not gonna happen… not gonna let those puppy eyes sway me, and obviously, it’s better that we don’t speak, so yeah… just gonna look for a hasty exit… Eve thought to herself as her eyes darted around them. She’d been just about to make a break for it, but Roman inched closer to her side, making her tense as the scent of him filled her nose all over again, rugged and spicy. Eve glanced up at him and Roman smirked down at her, mouthing something. She couldn’t move.

Seth was staring a hole through her, and he acted as if he suddenly had something to input. Which he did, seconds later. “Here we go again, man.” was muttered in more annoyance than anything as Seth rolled his eyes and shifted his gaze to Eve, almost as if he were blaming her for popping off, making a scene that he now had to bear witness to. Eve rolled her eyes right back and went back to letting them wander around, doing anything but meeting those dark eyes of Roman Reigns yet again.

… because the way he stared at her lately, it was… enough to melt the clothing right off her body…  She cringed as the thought came, because considering the huge mess and the accusations before downtime started and she told Seth she wasn’t going back to Davenport with him, - and Roman’s sort of standoffish attitude towards her, prior to the little ‘break’ between her and Seth, it was the last thing that needed to be happening right now. She needed to have a little more respect for herself than drooling over her ex’s best friend.

Even though God knows, that man is a walking sex ad…

“She told you to move, Mandy. Why not do something useful for once and move. Nobody wants to hear whatever this is.” Roman turned, narrowing his eyes at Seth as he told him calmly, “And you.. Just shut the fuck up already. Don’t even think about startin it, Seth, or so help me God, you will not like the outcome. Aight? We good?”

“Super.” Seth said it with as much venom and sarcasm as he could muster. Ever since Roman started lurking around Eve, who was supposed to be his girl, Seth was getting more and more tired of the way Roman just kinda… Took over things.

… Or made Eve smile a time or two, made her laugh, you know deep down, there’s something there, even if they both swear there isn’t… and it drives you goddamn insane…

Eve turned finally, with all intentions of yeeting herself as far away as possible from the whole thing in it’s entirety  and she  found herself body to body with Roman Reigns. Like usual,her mouth opened and closed and Roman continued to give that calm thousand yard stare at Mandy - and Seth, she noticed, both of whom finally relented, though Mandy grumbled and pouted and visibly sulked about it the whole time. Seth just gave Eve a look as if somehow, he blamed her for this too. And Eve rolled her eyes when they met his, just as he went to walk away.

Eve’s feet shuffled awkwardly and she raised a hand, dragging it through her hair. Her mouth did the awkward as hell open and close bit for at least another few seconds. Roman chuckled and nodded to the check in counter.

“We kinda need to check into the flight.”

“I.. uhh.. Yeah. Look, thanks for… that… just now.”

Roman laughed and shrugged. “Not a problem, baby girl. Kinda got sick of her shit when she was tryin to run interference with Naomi and Jimmy a while back.” and while he didn’t say it, he thought to himself, … and then there’s the fact that nobody messes with my girl…

Eve picked up her bag and started to turn away but Roman grabbed at her wrist just as a crowd came by that would’ve knocked her over. She felt his other hand rest across her lower back and that chuckle…. Dear god.

Roman started to lead the petite brunette across the lobby, navigating them easily through crowds and the like until they reached the line for check in. The entire time, it was on the tip of his tongue to just come out and speak his piece on the actions of his former close friend Seth as of late, but he thought better of it.

Even though, he thought to himself calmly, as soon as Roman figured out what Eve was to him, he was filled with this deep seated rage that made it damn near impossible to be around Rollins without wanting to kick the other man’s head in.

… she belongs to us… everything will be okay now… baby steps, man… you gotta take baby steps… everything that happened earlier this month really hurt her… Seth’s good at constantly hurtin her. Gotta earn her trust, get to know her better, let her know it’s okay to depend on me and that I ain’t Rollins…

She must have said something and he missed it, because she was giving a quiet laugh, shaking her head and preparing herself to turn away from him and towards the line in front of them both.

“What’s wrong?” he leaned down to mumble next to her ear. Eve swallowed hard and made herself meet his gaze and answer quietly, “Nothing I just… I kinda annoy you. You act really tense and edgy around me.. I figured you were getting annoyed, so like… I was gonna turn around and give you space?” the statement came out sounding like a weak attempt at a question instead.

Roman laughed, almost snorting at one point before stopping himself to meet her gaze and shake his head. “It’s nothin like that, baby girl. I can promise you that.”

“Oh..o-okay?”

The fluttering in her stomach that tended to happen around him -or in awkward situations like the one she’d just been helped out of by him, it was back and in full force.

Eve fanned her face and shook her head.

It felt hotter in the airport and Roman’s cologne was almost overpowering, but not in a bad way.

In a comforting way.

It was the best explanation Eve could come up with.

Roman eyed her up. Her scent was almost sweet enough to make his mouth water. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, suddenly super conscious of the fact. She wasn’t really saying much and just a quick scenting gave way that she felt comfortable… Well, beyond the jumble of thoughts and emotions his mate was currently trying to work through.

“You okay?” he asked the question, his hand rubbing at her lower back lazily as they moved up in the line.

“Seth and Mandy can pretty much ruin anything.” was the only explanation Eve gave and she shrugged, shaking her head with a cross look in her eyes. Roman glared in Seth’s direction and then turned his gaze back to her, stating calmly, “You’d probably be a lot better off if you quit lettin that asshole get to you. He’s gonna pull the little wounded bitch act. If you act like it doesn’t bug ya, he’ll knock it the fuck off. That’s how he operates, trust me baby girl, I know him like the back of my hand.”

Eve stared up at Roman intently for a second or two. “I’ll umm.. I’ll definitely have to remember that.. Hey, weird and totally random, but… Do you wanna sit together on the plane?”

“I’d love that, baby girl. You hungry? After we check into the flight, we can go find somewhere to get food, we’ll have about two and a half hours to wait.”

“I’d love that, Roman.” Eve smiled up at him and Roman smiled back, chuckling. “That’s good.”

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Don’t you hear my call though you’re many years away - chapter 8

A/N: I have no clue of the word count, and I don’t care

Warnings: Fluff and angst

Summary: Y/N and John go on a date, again a slight filler chapter to build up to the next two!



“We’ll be on foot tonight, sorry about that” John said shyly as we walk out of the inn.

“I’m fine with it” I replied, leaning in closer to him, wrapping my arm around his.

As we walked, he caught me up on his day, and how he and his friend had been able to repair the car.

“I like tinkering” he said, almost bashfully.

“Being able to repair something has to be gratifying. I can barely pump gas” I joked, making him laugh. I’d never forget that beautiful sounds.

Freddie has been right, John took me to a small fish and chip shop. The place was bustling and noisy, but the line moved quickly.

“Ever had fish and chips?” He asked as he leaned down to my ear, his breath fanning across my neck, causing me to shiver.

“No” I replied shaking my head, both in response to his question and to shake away the thoughts I was having.

“Hope you like it” he said as we move to the counter.

John order for us both, and as quickly as he ordered, he was handed 2 bundles of newspaper. Since his hands were full, he extended his elbow for my to hold on to as we made our way back outside. There were a few tables and chairs set outside the shop, John led us to one before handing me one of the bundles.

“Newspaper?” I asked as I inspected it.

“Yes, it’s easier to take with you, it soaks up some of the oil too” John replied before popping a fry in his mouth.

“How was your day with Mary?” he asked.

“Good. We went shopping, that’s where I found this top” I said, gesturing towards myself.

“It’s lovely on you.” He said sweetly.

“Thank you” I replied, feeling my cheeks heat up with a blush. “We had lunch and saw Freddie and Roger. It was nice, I enjoyed myself. But...I’m happier to be out with you.”

It was his turn to blush, as he cast his eyes towards his lap.

John suggested we take our food with us and head towards the theater, since it would take 15-20 minutes to walk there. We were seeing Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, apparently it was new.

“These fries are really good” I said taking a bite of one.

“You mean chips” John laughed.

“Another one huh?” I laughed with him. “Then what do you call chips, the crunchy, thin type?”

“Crisps” he responded as he continued to laugh.

“Oh, that makes a lot of sense actually” I replied, finishing off my chip.

We made it to the theater in time to get our tickets and good seats.

“I’ve heard this film has scared some kids” he said as we waited for the movie to start.

“Really?” I asked. Maybe the boat scene, but even as a child I’d never found it scary, just weird.

“Think you’ll be frightened?” John asked playful as he put his arm around me and pull me to him.

“Not now” I replied kissing him quickly.

I didn’t focus much on the movie, my inner turmoil and monologue was much louder than the movie I’d seen more times than I could count.

My heart and brain weren’t on the same page, my brain telling me I was being reckless, I was tempting fate. While my heart begged to know him better. I was beyond stepping over the line now. I had sprinted past it and was running full speed ahead. But to what, exactly? It was clear this was more than friendship. Even without the time difference in the equation, what was this?

He caught me staring at him a few times, but only smiled. I admired his profile, his jawline, nose, the purse of his lips. My body warmed with desire, as my brain continued in protest. A protest I planned to ignore.

**

“Did you enjoy the movie?” I asked John as we left the theater.

“I did. I would ask you them same but your mind seemed to be elsewhere.” He said taking hold of my hand.

“Sorry about that” I replied, embarrassed.

“Let’s grab a drink, hm?” He suggested.

“Ok” I agreed, looking back up at him. I liked him in those platforms.

He leaned down and captured my lips with his for a quick kiss before he led me in the direction of the nearest pub.

**

We spent the rest of the evening learning more about one another, everything from favorite color to favorite childhood memory, favorite food to favorite subject in school.

“Who are you closets to in the band?” I asked before taking another sip of my drink, pacing myself.

“Um...I don’t know really. I haven’t known them for very long. But Freddie, even Roger.” He replied as he finished his beer. “What about your friends?”

“My best friend growing up, Anne, we don’t get to see each other much anymore, we’re in different schools. But we do te...”I caught myself, stumbling a bit I cleared my throat, texting wasn’t a thing yet. “Sorry, we do talk on the phone, but when we’re both home for the holidays, we spend as much time together as we can.”

He seemed unfazed by my fumble, “and your friends in school?”

“They’re like family to me now” I said honestly “I met Sierra first, and she’s like the sister I never had. She introduced me to her roommate Claire, who is one of the happiest, most positive people ever. And not in a annoying way. Sierra also introduced me to Ryan, who she grew up with. He’s basically a genius. And he introduced me to Dustin, his lab partner. Dustin and I could be halves of one whole person. We’re so much alike it’s frightening. They were all friends, and when Sierra took me in under her wing, they did too. Sometimes I feel like the kid sister, they’re all a year older.”

Laughing he replied “I’m the youngest of the group, so I understand that feeling.”

“I don’t think they see you like that” I reassured him.

“I doubt your friends see you as the kid either” he responded, smiling as he took my hand in his.

“And here...well...I suppose you’re my best friend” I smiled at my own joke.

“Am I? After only 3 days?” He said, a playful grin painting his face.

“You’re quickly becoming my best friend here” I said “and who knows...maybe more...”

His smile grew as he looked at me. I was playing with fire.

**

“I love how long the days are in the summer” I mused as we walked back to the inn.

“I enjoy them. Winter days are much too short” he replied “maybe you can come back in the winter though, brighten the grey days a bit.”

I swallowed thickly. The truth which simmered beneath the surface was now starting to boil, how long could I keep the lid on it before I was burned?

“Does it snow?” I asked looking up at him.

“Sometimes” he answers a bit softly. I wonder if he thought he said too much too soon.

“It doesn’t snow much where I live. I’d like seeing snow with you.” I said. He looked at me, his smile grew. The type that touches the eyes. The type you can’t help but smile back at. Even though my heart was aching at the lie. I’d never see snow with him.

**

“Thank you for a wonderful night, Deacy” I said outside the door to my room.

He took the key from me and opened the door.

“Thank you coming out with me tonight” he said, moving in closer. “We’ll be moving equipment to our rehearsal space tomorrow morning. But we should be done by lunch, would you meet me at the flat around noon?”

“I’d love to” I said, stepping even closer as he closed the distance between our lips.

One of his hands gently caressed my face as the other pulled me closer still. The kiss wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t urgent, but it wasn’t lazy either. There was feeling behind this kiss. Not of lust, something else. The type of kiss that held the promise of more. More kisses. More feelings. More of everything.

As I pulled away, he pulled me back from one more quick kiss.

“Goodnight” laugh, as I playfully shooed him towards the stairs.

“Wait” he said as he reached them, turning to face me “what will you do with your morning?”

“Sleep in!” I laughed, leaning against the door frame.

“Lie-in” he retorted.

“Oh not another one!” I laughed again “goodnight Deacy!”

“Goodnight” he laughed as he made his way down.

I was grinning from ear to ear as I closed the door behind me.

@queensdivas @liliah39 @leah-halliwell92 @painkiller80 @painandpleasure86 @deakys-chesthair @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @heybuddy-drabbles @queenwouldyourathers @mirkwoodshewolf @ixchel-9275 @deakysmisfire @thosequeenboys @tryin-her-best @johndeaconstoothgap @deacyspatronusisacheesetoastie @johndeaconshands @apailana @amethyst-serenade @deakysgurl @hellysthings

[baby-hyena]

Fearless | KHSxJJH Fanfic

Note: This will be the 3rd and last part of Kim Hye Soo’s POV. Thank you so much for reading and for your comments. 🥺💞 I really, reaaaly appreciate it. 🥰 Thank you. If you haven’t read the 1st and 2nd part, here are the links:

1st part: https://baby-hyena.tumblr.com/post/616456915659227136/begin-again-khsxjjh-fanfic

2nd part: https://baby-hyena.tumblr.com/post/617439729873567744/distance-a-khsxjjh-fanfic

P.S.: I’m sorry if this is too cheesy. 🤭🙈

P.P.S: Love you, fellow Hyena babies. 🤗

~

There's something 'bout the way, the street looks when it's just rained

The production had to rush the filming of Hyena because of Ji Hoon’s hectic schedule. They had to film separately so they can save time and quickly wrap up the drama. It’s also been a week since Hye Soo took care of Ji Hoon when he stayed outside and caught a cold. The morning after that, she woke up with Ji Hoon’s note saying he’s thankful and that he had to go because his manager went crazy looking for him. Hye Soo wished she shouldn’t have slept so she would’ve been with him a little longer.

There's a glow off the pavement, you walk me to the car

They didn’t have the chance to talk after that. And since Ji Hoon was busy, he couldn’t drive her home like he always did. He apologized to her and told her that he’ll make it up to her. Hye Soo reassures him that she’s fine and she cheers him up. Though, she misses him and sometimes she can’t help it she’d post him on her Instagram. Good thing she changed her username into junggumza so her fans would think it’s just her being in character. She’d also stalk his Instagram whenever she misses him.

And you know I wanna ask you to dance right there, in the middle of the parking lot, yeah

It’s their last filming day, Hye Soo and Ji Hoon almost didn’t get to see each other on set. They’re all over the place, filming each other’s last scenes. Their last scene together was set on a pub where they’d drink and have dinner together with Team H. Hye Soo was excited for the scenes because she’d get to see Ji Hoon and his funny expressions. And when the camera starts rolling, she tried hard not to laugh because of it. I missed you, her heart whispers as she looks at Ji Hoon. They’d chitchat in between breaks during that scene and she’d wish that moment would last; but she had to go to her next filming site.

We're drivin' down the road, I wonder if you know

Hye Soo was walking to her car when she heard some heavy footsteps behind her. She turns around to see who it is. It was Ji Hoon walking to her, he’s wearing a baseball cap and he’s smiling wide. When he’s in front of her he says, “Lemme drive you home?” She chuckles, “Aren’t you busy today?” Please say no, a small voice talks at the back of her mind. Ji Hoon tilts his head and pouts, “Manager-nim told me I can take the day off.” He gave her a tight smile, she smiles back. Yay! Hye Soo can feel her heart’s dancing at the moment.

I'm tryin' so hard not to get caught up now, but you're just so cool

As soon as Ji Hoon started driving, he also started talking. And unlike any other day, Hye Soo’s full attention is on him as he tells her stories about his busiest days. She’d look at him amusingly and would react whenever it’s funny or sad or annoying. “You know this pandemic changed our lives.” Ji Hoon’s tone becomes serious. Hye Soo blinks as she waits for his next sentence. “Geum Ja and Hee Jae didn’t even get to kiss in their last episode.” Ji Hoon continues as he frowns and pouts. Hye Soo blinks twice and then she bursts out laughing.

Run your hands through your hair, absent-mindedly makin' me want you

They arrived at Hye Soo’s house and Ji Hoon is still talking nonstop. Meanwhile, Hye Soo is thinking of what she’d cook for them. When they enter her house, she looks at Ji Hoon who took off his baseball cap, “What should I cook?” Hye Soo asks. Ji Hoon fixes his messy hair because of his cap. Hye Soo didn’t realize she’s staring at him while holding her breath. How can he be this sexy?, she thought. Hye Soo clears her throat and swallows when Ji Hoon looked at her after fixing his hair. “You were saying..?” he asked. “I’ll just make us salad.” Hye Soo said then she walks away from him.

And I don't know how it gets better than this

Hye Soo was telling Ji Hoon stories as they eat together. “Doing that documentary was really, reaaally fulfilling for me. Thankfully, I got the chance to do it and Park PD was kind to give me that opportunity.” Hye Soo said before she grabs a bite. Ji Hoon looks at her while chewing his food. He gives her a tight smile, after chewing he speaks, “I missed you.” Hye Soo stops chewing and blinks. He caught her off guard. She looks away and mixes her salad then she says, “You beat me. I was gonna tell you that first.”

You take my hand and drag me head first, fearless

After eating, they were sitting while drinking their tea, Hye Soo on her couch and Ji Hoon on the floor. They’re listening to Coldplay’s Yellow. Hye Soo was singing some of the lyrics as she drinks from her tea. When the next song comes up, Ji Hoon speaks, “Oh, that’s my favourite song of them.” It’s Coldplay’s A Sky Full of Stars. Hye Soo giggles as she watches him sing and every time he sings the lyrics “I’m gonna give you my heart,” he points at Hye Soo. She knows he can sing and has a great voice. But she didn’t think she’d love it more when he sings for her.

And I don’t know why but with you I’d dance in a storm in my best dress, fearless

When the song stops, it began to rain. “Oh? It’s raining.” Hye Soo said. Ji Hoon looks outside and it’s pouring. “I checked the weather today, is it because of my voice?” He cracks a joke. Hye Soo laughs, “No way.” They watched the rain pour. “You know, I like it when it rains.” Hye Soo started talking. Ji Hoon looks at her and listens attentively. “It gives me a different feeling. It’s peaceful and calming.” Hye Soo continues as she stares outside her window. Ji Hoon sighs and looks outside, and then he speaks, “I love the rain, too. I love how it falls beautifully. Makes me think falling like that is not so scary.” It’s now Hye Soo’s turn to look at him.

So, baby, drive slow, 'til we run out of road in this one horse town

When the night comes and the rain stops, Hye Soo can feel he’ll leave soon. So, she prepared herself to let him go, without knowing when they’ll have this moment again. Knowing how busy he’ll get, Hye Soo can already imagine how she’ll miss him. She knows she’ll miss him even during her busiest days, at 3PM when everyone’s around her and all she can think about is him. She’ll miss him whenever she’s driving down the road. She’ll miss him showing up at her doorstep with coffee or food on his hands. She’ll remember the first time she told him those three words and she’ll miss everything about him.

I wanna stay right here in this passenger's seat, you put your eyes on me

Hye Soo’s train of thoughts stopped when Ji Hoon speaks, “Can I sleep here?” Hye Soo blinks twice at him, “What? I thought you’ll gonna be busy? Are you allowed to spend the night here?” Hye Soo didn’t realize she asked a lot. Now, that’s sounds annoying, she bites her lower lip before giving him a tight faint smile. Ji Hoon chuckles, “I’m allowed to stay here until tomorrow.” He said. Hye Soo’s tight smile widens. She couldn’t be happier.

In this moment now capture it, remember it

Hye Soo was over the moon knowing that she’ll spend the night with Ji Hoon. She’d stay up until dawn if she can, just to cherish each hour with him. “What would you like for dinner?” Ji Hoon asks, they’ve finished watching her favourite indie movie and now it looks like they’re both hungry. “Hmm, lemme think.” Hye Soo tilts her head as she tries to think what to eat. “Do you want me to cook an Italian dish?” Ji Hoon speaks. Hye Soo looks at him and smiles, “I’d love that.” She answered with sparkles in her eyes. She’d get to taste his food again, she tasted it before during the Episode 1, but she just had a bite. They didn’t get to eat the food because they had to film other scenes. Aside from the delicious food, the idea of him cooking for her makes her feel delighted.

'Cause I don't know how it gets better than this

Hye Soo helps in cutting the ingredients while Ji Hoon does the cooking. When she’s done cutting, she’d get a chair and watch Ji Hoon cook. “Come, have a taste.” He called her and she giddily went to him. “Hmm!” Hye Soo said and gave him thumbs up. Ahh, this is exactly what I’ve dreamt of having, she thought after having a taste of his food. She smiles and sighs then she walks away to prepare the table. And they started eating peacefully. 

You take my hand and drag me head first, fearless

After dinner, they sat on the couch with nothing else to do. They’d look at each other and giggle. “What should we do?” Ji Hoon asks as he pokes Hye Soo on her arm. “Hmm, lemme think.” She thinks of what they could do, “How about new set of movies?” she suggests, Ji Hoon shook his head. “Let’s watch movies later, how about an activity?” Hye Soo knows there’d be differences between them. It won’t always go on her way or on his. It happened before in her past relationship; the only difference now is that, she knows her love for this man will be bigger and greater than their differences.

And I don't know why but with you I'd dance in a storm in my best dress, fearless

If she’s the person she is 5 years ago, she wouldn’t open her doors like this to Ji Hoon. She won’t have him in any other way because she’s too scared. She’s scared of so many things; the public’s opinion, her friends’, her family. She’s scared of taking risks and getting hurt again. It’s strange though, how she’s not so scared now. She looks at Ji Hoon when she finally thought of an idea, she smiles. “Do you wanna try painting?” she asks him. She noticed how his eyes flicker when she said that. Hye Soo chuckles and nods, “Okay, I’ll get you some materials.” She stands up, “I’ll wait here and make a quick call.” Ji Hoon said.

Well, you stood there with me in the doorway

Hye Soo went to her mini studio while Ji Hoon stays in the living room. She’d grab a clean canvas and some of her pigments. She thought of painting the memory she had with Ji Hoon awhile ago, when they’re both staring at the rain. Before she goes out, she’d catch a glimpse of an unfinished painting. It’s merely a sketch but she knows it well. It’s Ji Hoon’s face. She grabs it so she can look at it closely. “What’s that?” Hye Soo almost dropped the canvas when she heard Ji Hoon’s voice behind her. She looked at him while he looks at the canvas she’s holding. Curiosity’s all over his face.

My hands shake, I’m not usually this way

Ji Hoon grabs the canvas from her and started walking to the living room. “Hey, I thought you were gonna make a call?” she asks him. Ji Hoon didn’t look at her and kept his eyes on the canvas. He’s smiling wide as he sat on the couch, “It’s me.” he utters while smiling at it. “It’s not even finished yet. Why are you so happy?” Hye Soo asks with an amused smile on her face. Ji Hoon looks at her with his puppy eyes; he didn’t say anything. Her expression softens, she sat beside him, “Why are you like that?” she asks. Ji Hoon sighs and right at that moment, Hye Soo trembles inside. When he puts down the canvas and hold her hands, she knows she’ll lose to him.

But you pull me in and I'm a little more brave

“I know you’re way out of my league.” Ji Hoon started talking. Hye Soo stares at him as he continues speaking. “You’re my sunbae and I know I shouldn’t feel this way. But I can’t help it.” Ji Hoon looks down as he sighs, Hye Soo smiles, “Hey..” she calls him. Ji Hoon sighs, “I think I like you, Kim Hye Soo sunbaenim.” Ji Hoon looks at her and shakes his head, “No, no, scratch that. I think I’ve fallen in love with you. Hye Soo-ssi.” Ji Hoon gives her a tight smile. Hye Soo can’t help but smile then she bursts out a laugh. Ji Hoon scratches the back of his head shyly. “Hey, don’t laugh at me.” He pouts and looks down.

It's the first kiss, it's flawless,

Hye Soo stops laughing. She pulls back her hands from him and cups his face. Ji Hoon is still frowning while she’s smiling at him. She lets go of his face and holds his hands. “I know you heard what I said that night.” Hye Soo said. Ji Hoon’s eyes widen. Hye Soo nods at him, “I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud that night but I couldn’t stop myself.” She felt her blood rushing to her face, she looks down to hide it, “I don’t think I can say that again—“ Ji Hoon pulls back his hands and cups her face. He’s smiling now, “It’s okay. You can say that again whenever you’re ready, whenever you want to.”

Really something, it's fearless.

If she can marry this man right now, she will. That’s what Hye Soo is thinking. Ji Hoon gently squeezes her face then laughs. “Hey.” Her voice’s muffled because of the squeeze. “I love you.” Ji Hoon says, he’s smiling at her but she can feel his sincerity. He lets go of her face. “That’s it?” Hye Soo said, dumbfounded. Ji Hoon gave her a questioning look. “You forgot this.” Hye Soo cups his face again and leans in to kiss him. Ji Hoon was stunned as Hye Soo kisses him softly. But it only took him a second to recover and kiss her back.

'Cause I don't know how it gets better than this

I knew it, I’d lose to him, Hye Soo thought as their kiss deepens. Ji Hoon’s touch makes her sensitive and she’s never felt so alive. It’s like they’ve been longing for each other their whole life and now, they’re finally one. Everything she’s been through now makes sense. She realized, she’s been with the wrong people. And now, Ji Hoon walked into her life and made everything worth it. The way he touches every part of her body makes her shiver. She lets out a soft moan when he touches her. She gasps as she cups his face to kiss him again. When he started moving against her, they both got lost to their own world.

You take my hand and drag me head first

They spent that night under the same blanket without their clothes on. Hye Soo felt Ji Hoon’s finger runs through her shoulders then he kisses it. “I love you.” He says and she chuckles. “I lost count of how many times you’ve said that.” She holds his hand and kisses it. “I love you, too.” She said then she buried her face on his chest and hugged him. She could hear his heartbeat, Hye Soo sighs, “Hope this lasts.” She whispers. She felt Ji Hoon pulls her in. “This will last. You’ll be my last love.” Ji Hoon whispers back. Then they fell asleep.

Fearless

Hye Soo wakes up with Ji Hoon’s kisses. “Good morning.” Ji Hoon smiles at her. She draws back, “I don’t smell good in the morning.” She covers her mouth, but Ji Hoon pulls her back to his arms and gave her a smack on her lips. “I still love you.” Hye Soo chuckles and kissed him back. “Let’s get up now; I know you’re busy today.” Hye Soo tells him then she gets up and picked up her clothes. An hour later, they’re eating breakfast together. Ji hoon speaks, “I already talked to my manager. Just tell me whenever you’re ready to reveal our relationship to the public.” Hye Soo bites her lower lip and sighed.

And I don't know why but with you I'd dance in a storm in my best dress

Hye Soo felt Ji Hoon’s hand on her. She looks at him and he gave her a reassuring smile. “Only when you’re ready.” He tells her then he squeezed her hand. That made her a little braver so she cocks her head. “Alright.” She utters and nodded confidently at him. She’ll never be ready. But as long as she has Ji Hoon on her side, she’s fearless.

Fearless

~

[thiswasinevitableid]

#53 with Indruck? Also I LOVE 17 and I’m not picky on the pairing. Which Ever you think works the best/most in the mood for, I’d adore to see. ❤️

Decided to tackle 53 first! Prompts are from this list and still open.

53: Your scream woke up the entire building because you’re so damn excited about the snow and I’m going to give you a piece of my mind except you’re really cute.

“WOOO HELL FUCKIN YEAH!”

Indrid falls out of bed, cursing before he even hits the floor. Scrambling to the window, he’s not at all surprised at what he sees. His roommate or, rather, housemate, standing out in the snowfall with his arms out, smiling at the sky. He’s only wearing pajama pants and his ugly Christmas sweater.

If he catches a cold, Indrid is going to lose it. They’re already the only two remaining housemates left, and Duck, usually charmingly calm, has lost his damn mind with Christmas fever. Duck being sick would mean Indrid will get no respite from carols, decorating, and the other man asking his opinion on different gifts. 

He tosses on an oversized sweater, steps into his rainboots, and tromps outside, muttering a dozen, rather unkind fantasies about what he’ll do if Duck doesn’t come inside (and a few lurid ones as well; he’s well past the point of pretending Duck, with his strong arms a soft belly, his fondness for gently teasing Indrid, the little idiosyncrasies he only let’s Indrid glimpse, doesn’t light his heart up like the scraggly Christmas tree in the living room).

“Duck, what in the world has gotten into you?”

The shorter man turns, breathless smile painting his face, snow dusting his dark hair, and Indrid struggles to remain annoyed with him. 

“Hey, ‘Drid! Uh, oh” his brow furrows, “trouble sleepin again?”

“Yes, actually. But that’s not the problem. The problem is you are standing here, yelling, in the middle of the night, and scared me so badly I fell out of bed.”

“Shit, sorry.” Duck smiles, “but, look at it ‘Drid. It’s the first snowfall. It’s fuckin gorgeous.”

“Duck, I moved to the desert specifically to avoid the cold.”

“It ain’t just cold. It makes everythin look peaceful, like nothin bad is ever gonna happen. And you know, can’t have Christmas without snow.” He spins around gazing at the sky like the hero in a hallmark movie. 

“Ah, I see. This is yet another part of the tinsel covered madness that you’ve been under.”

“Huh?”

“Have you honestly not noticed? Duck, ever since the day after Thanksgiving, you’ve been a walking, talking Christmas decoration.”

“So, I like the holiday?” Duck shrugs.

“There’s liking the holiday and then there is subjecting me to a month long parade of cheer!”

Duck looks stunned.

“That’s how you feel about it?”

“It’s. Obnoxious.” Indrid doesn’t mean to snarl. It’s not Duck’s fault. Not really. 

Duck glares, “Jeez, I’m just tryin to enjoy myself. I ain’t goin out of my way to torment you.”

“How is singing carols off key while doing the dishes not tormenting me?”

“You could just tell me to stop.”

“Then you’ll call me a grinch, or some other unimaginative term for someone who doesn’t want to be covered in red and green vomit.” Indrid crosses his arms, kicks a track in the fresh snow.  Glances up to find a familiar smirk on Ducks face. The last time he looked that way it was right before he rattled off the worlds most convoluted brain teaser in order to distract Indrid from a distressing incident at work.

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch…” He croons.

“Don’t you dare.” Indrid growls.

“You really are heel.” 

“Gah, how are you getting more off key?” A smile cracks through his grimace.

“Aw, can’t a fella serenade you?”

Indrid squawks, hoping indignance covers his blush, and chucks a handful of snow at Duck. The other man barks a laugh and hops backward. 

“Not a fan of the classics, huh?” 

“Stay still and suffer for your crimes against melody.” Indrid throws more snow.

“When a cold when blows it chills you, chills you to the bone.”

“Don’t you dare use the Muppets against me!”

“Better figure out a way to stop me” Duck dances out of the path of a snowball.

“I will, get back here.”

Duck keeps singing as he jogs ineffectively backwards, “But there’s nothin in nature that freezes your heart like years of bein aloneAH” He trips and tumbles into the snow and Indrid seizes his chance and tackles him. 

Before Duck can open his mouth to continue, Indrid is kissing him. If Duck is surprised by the gesture, he doesn’t show it, cups a chilly hand at the back of his head, encouraging, pleased sounds bubbling from his throat. 

Indrid sits up, shyly, reserves of boldness used up on that one kiss. Duck shifts up onto his hands, walks them forward so he can lean in and kiss him again, breath fogging Indrids glasses as they separate. 

“You feel like continuin this inside? My pants are gettin kinda soggy.”

“Can’t have you suffering too much for your questionable clothing choices” Indrid teases, helping him up, “come on.”

Indrid waits on the couch as Duck changes, enjoying the way the multi-colored lights he hung over the doorway cast strange, stained glass shadows on the walls. 

Duck plops down on the couch, grabbing a thick, snowflake patterned blanket and pulling it over them. 

“Can I confess something?” Indrid whispers. 

“You mean other than your crush on me? Because that boat done sailed.”

“Hush.” Indrid tugs him closer, “There’s another reason I didn’t speak up about how the Christmas overload was bothering me. I, well, it makes you so happy. I know you get homesick, and that studying abroad last year meant no snow. And I so love seeing you happy, I couldn’t bring myself to dampen your joy.”

“You never get homesick?” Duck rests his head on Indrids shoulder. 

“Not unless one can be homesick for a version of home that never existed, rather than the one that did.”

“Heh” Duck takes his hands, running his thumb along the knuckles, “y’know, that’s part of why I went so overboard. I know you got mixed feelins about the holidays, and I was hopin that maybe I could show you how nice they could be if you were with someone who cared about you.”

The answer startles him, and Duck takes the opportunity to kiss his nose. 

“You’d really do that for me?”

“Do a lot of things for you.” Duck grins. 

“I, uh, ah, yes” his world tilts as Duck lays down on the couch, guiding him to rest atop his warm, soft form, “all I ask is that we perhaps discuss what things about this season we might both enjoy. I’ll need to ease into it.”

“Think I can manage that.” Fingers carding his hair now. 

“I’m” he yawns, stretches out before snuggling down “I’m going to fall asleep, on you, I fear.”

“Don’t worry about that none” Duck kisses his forehead, wraps his arms around him, “sleep tight, darlin.”

[archiefm]

         ... claws my way up from hell once more and vomits onto the dash.... hello. its nora. i used to write rory bergstrom, but if u were here before that u might remember me as greta or alma putnam or..... som1 else.... an endless carousel of trash children..... this is finn, who i actually wrote for an early version of this rp abt 5yrs back now...... grits teeth..... so forgive me if im rusty i havent written him in a long time but seein honey boy gave me a lotta finn muse n im keen to get Back On The Horse yeehaww...

DYLAN O’BRIEN / CIS-MALE — don’t look now, but is that finn o’callaghan i see? the 25 year old criminology and forensic studies student is in their graduate year of study year and he is a rochester alum. i hear they can be judicious, adroit, morose and cynical, so maybe keep that in mind. i bet he will make a name for themselves living off-campus. ( nora. 24. gmt. she/her )

shakes my tin can a humble pinterest, ma’am....

finn has a bio pasted at the bottom (n written in like.... 2015.... gross) but it’s long  so if u don’t wanna read it here’s the sparknotes summary..... anyway this was written years ago n a lot of it seems really cliche and lame now but..... we accept the trash we think we deserve

grumpy, ugly sweater wearing, tech-savvy grandpa

very dry sense of humour and embraces nihilism. 

if ron swanson and april ludgate had a baby it would be finn

he was raised in derry, just south of dublin.

from a big family. elder sister called sinead. he also has a younger sister (aoife), a younger brother (colm), and a collie named lassie because his father lovs cliches (finn hates cliches but loves his dog). 

his father was a pub landlord and his mother worked at the market sellin fruit n veg when they met but got a job as a medical receptionist when she had kids cos it meant she cld be there with them in the day and work nights.

his parents met when they were p young and fiesty and rushed into marriage cos they were catholic n just wanted to have sex. his family were literally dirt-poor, but they had a lot of love i guess

hmmmmm his relationship w his father wasn’t the best cos i can’t write character who have healthy relationships w their parents throws up a peace sign. yh, had a pretty emotionally distant, alcoholic violent father n so gets a lot of his bad habits i.e. drinking as a coping mechanism and poor anger management from him BUT anyway

as a kid he was never very motivated in class, he always had a nervous itch to be off somewhere doing something else. struggled under government austerity bcso there just wasn’t the resources to support low income families where the kids had learning difficulties n needed support. fuck the tories am i right 

his mum suggested he try sports to help w his restless energy but he was never any good at football so he took up boxing and tap dance instead. he took to tap dancing like a fish to fuckin water. as adhd n found this as a really good way to use his excess energy in a creative way

had a few run ins with the police in his early teens for spray painting and graffiti, but he straightened himself out n now actually considering becoming a detective inspector??? cops are pigs.

he had a youtube channel where he posted videos of him tapdancing and breakdancing as a kid, basically would be a tiktok boy nowadays, n had like... a small fanbase in his early teens. attended several open auditions unsuccessfully, until he was finally cast in billy eliot when he was fifteen.

during billy eliot he began dating an italian dancer called nina. they became dance partners soon after and toured across the republic with various different shows (inc riverdance lol the classic irish stereotype). their relationship was p toxic tbh, they were both very hot tempered people and just used to argue and fight all the time.

he went semi-pro at tap dancing, and nina couldn’t stand being second best so she moved back to italy with her family. ignored his texts, phone calls, etc, eventually he was driven to the point where he used his savings to buy a plane ticket, showed up at her house and she was like wtf?? freaked out and filed a restraining order accusing him of stalking.

he was fined for harassment and then returned home to derry, but after the incident with nina he quit dancing for good and finished his leaving cert before heading to university in the US to get as far away from nina and his past life as poss. and basically since he quit dancing to study forensics (death kink. finn cant get enough of that morgue. just walks around sayin beat u) he’s become a massive grump and jsut doesn’t see the good in people any more.

u’ll find finn in an old man bar drinking whiskey bc he is in fact an old man at heart or sat on his roof smoking a joint, drawing wolves and lions and skeletons and shit, playing call of duty or getting blazed or at the corner of the room in a house party ignoring everyone and scrolling through twitter. is a massive e-boy. always up-to-date on memes and internet slang. has reddit as an app on his phone

not very good at communication. rather than solve his issues by talking, he’d prefer to just solve them through fighting or running away from his problems hence why he has come halfway across the world to get away from an issue which probs cld have been solved w a few apology emails.

takes a lot to phase him, but when his beserk button gets pressed he can become a bit pugnacious like an angry lil rottweiler. in his undergrad he was in a few fist fights but doesn’t really do tht any more as he doesn’t condone violence.

 in the previous version of this rp he was hospitalised like 5 times. pls, give my son a break. stop tryin to kill him. he literaly got a bottle smashed over his head and bled out all over his favourite angora rug that was the only light of his life

works at the campus coffee shop n always whines about how he’s a slave to capitalism. always smells of coffee

lives off campus with an elderly woman named Marianne, and basically gets reduced rent bcos he makes her dinner / keeps her company. they have a great bond

fan of karl marx. v big on socialism

insomniac with chronic nosebleeds

cynical about everything. too much of a fight club character 4 his own good n has his head up tyler durden’s sphincter

always confused or annoyed

statistics

basic information

full name: finnegan seamus o'callaghan nickname(s): finn age: 25 astrological sign: aries hometown: derry, ireland occupation: phd student / former street entertainer fatal flaw: cynicism positives: self-reliant, street smart, relaxed, intelligent, spontaneous, brave, independent, reliable, trustworthy, loyal. negatives: hostile, impulsive, stubborn, brooding, pugnacious, untrusting, cynical, enigmatic, reserved.

physical

colouring: medium hair colour: dark brown, almost black eye colour: brown height: 5’9” weight: 69kg build: tall, athletic voice: subtle irish accent, low, smooth. dominant hand: left scar(s): one on the left side of his ribs from a knife wound that he doesn’t remember getting cos he was drunk distinguishing marks: freckles, tattoo of a wolf howling at a moon allergies: pollen and the full spectrum of human emotion alcohol tolerance: high drunken behaviour: he becomes friendlier, far more conversational than when sober, flirtier, and generally more self-confident.

psychological

dreams/goals: self-fulfilment, travel the globe, experience life in its most alive and technicoloured version, make documentary films, help the vulnerable in society, grow as a human being.

skills: jack-of-all-trades, very fast runner, good at thieving things, talented tap dancer, good in crisis situations, dab-hand at mechanics, musically-intelligent, can throw a mean right hook and very capable of defending himself, can roll a cigarette, memorises quotes and passages of literature with ease, can light a match with his teeth.

likes: the smell of the earth after rain, poetry, cigarettes, shakespeare, whiskey, tattoos, travelling, ac/dc, deep conversations, leather jackets, open spaces, the smell of petrol, early noughties ‘emo phase’ anthems.

dislikes:  the government, parties, rules, donald trump, children, apple products, weddings, people in general, small talk, dependency, loneliness, pop music, public transport, justin timberlake, uncertainty.fears: fear itself, drowning alignment: true neutral mbti: istp – “while their mechanical tendencies can make them appear simple at a glance, istps are actually quite enigmatic. friendly but very private, calm but suddenly spontaneous, extremely curious but unable to stay focused on formal studies, istp personalities can be a challenge to predict, even by their friends and loved ones. istps can seem very loyal and steady for a while, but they tend to build up a store of impulsive energy that explodes without warning, taking their interests in bold new directions.” (via 16personalities.com)

full bio (lame as fuck written years ago..... pleathe...)

tw homophobia

born in quigley’s pub on the backstreets of sunny dublin, young finnegan o'callaghan was thrown kicking and screaming into the rowdy suburbs of irish drinking culture. the son of a landlord and a fishwife, he never had much in the way of earnings, but there was never a dull moment in his lively estate, where asbo’s thrived, but community spirit conquered. at school, finn was pegged as lazy and unmotivated, though truly his dyslexia made it hard for the boy to learn in the same environment of his peers and only made him more closed-off in class. struggling with anger management, finn moved from school to school, unable to fit the cookie-cutter mould that school enforced on him, though whilst academic studies were of little interest to the boy, he soon found his true passions lay in recreational activities. immersed into the joys of sport from as young as four, finn was an ardent munster fan and anticipated nothing more than the day he could finally fit into his brother’s old pair of rugby boots.

his calling finally came unexpectedly, not in the form of rugger, but through dance. to learn to express himself in a non-academic way, he began tap dancing, finding therapy in the beat of his soles against the cracked kitchen tiles (much to his mother’s disgrace). it wasn’t a conscious choice, finn just realised one day that dance was something that made him feel. a king of the streets, finn made his fortune on those cobbled pavements – dancing and drawing to earn his keep. by default, finn became a street artist, each penny he earned from his chalk drawings saved in a jam jar towards buying his first pair of tap shoes. though many of his less-than-amiable neighbours called him a nancy and a gaybo, finn refused to quit at his somewhat ‘unconventional’ hobby, for the young scrapper found energy, life, and released anger through the rhythm of tap. soon he branched out into street dance, hip hop, break dancing, lyrical, his days spent smacking his scuffed feet against the broken patio into the night.

when he was thirteen he took up boxing, and as expected, his newfound ‘macho’ pastime conflicted with his dancing. the boxers called him ‘soft’; the dancers called him ‘inelegant’. he felt like two different people; having to choose between interests was like being handed a knife and asked to which half of himself he wished to cut away. he couldn’t afford professional training in dance, with most schools based in england and limited scholarships available. instead, he made the street his studio, racking up a small fanbase on youtube. when he was fifteen he made his debut in billy eliot at the olympia theatre in dublin. enter nina de souza, talented, beautiful and italian; ballet dancer, operatic singer, genius whiz kid, and spoiled brat. she was selfish, conceited, hell bent on getting her own way, and every director’s nightmare. finn fell for her like a house of cards. he’d always had a soft spot for girls who meant trouble. and so their hellish courtship began.

by the time they were seventeen, the two young swans had danced in every playhouse across the republic. they were known in theatres across the country for their tempestuous personalities, their raging arguments with one another, their tendency to drop out of shows altogether without any notice, yet the money kept rolling in and the audiences continued to grow. for three years, their families continued to put up with their hysterical fights followed by passionate reconciliations. he was too possessive, and she was too wild. their carcrash of a relationship finally came to a catastrophic halt when nina broke off the whole affair and returned to italy with her family. for months finn tried to contact her, yet his phone calls, texts, facebook messages were always ignored, until finally he was driven to drastic measures and used his savings to get a plane to her home town. when finn turned up uninvited at nina’s house she freaked out – and rightly so – she contacted her agent, accused him of stalking her, and had a restraining order placed against him. finn was arrested, held in a station overnight, and charged with harassment before he was allowed to return to dublin.

after the incident with nina, finn lost the fight in his eyes. he became far more hostile, far less likely to retaliate with his own fists, and picked fights not for the thrill of feeling his own fists pummel another into a wall, but for the sensation of his own brittle bones cracking. he dropped his tap shoes in a dumpster, stopped talking to his friends, followed his father’s advice and went back to school to complete his leaving certificate. a few short months later, and finn was packing his bags, saying his bittersweet goodbyes, and travelling half-way across the globe to be as far away as possible from his past self, his mess of a life, and most of all nina. it seemed somehow ironic that the boy who had been cautioned by the garda so much during his youth for spray painting, busking without a liscence, and raucous parties would become the grumpy, aloof overseas student studying a degree in criminology; that his once reckless spirit could be crushed so easily. 

of all things that finn could be called, straightforward would never be one of them. ever since his first days in atticus, the boy was pegged as hostile, hot-headed, cynical, rude. he seemed to spend more time in his thoughts than engaging in conversation. like a ticking time-bomb, finn’s anger was of the calm kind, liable to explode without a moment’s noticed. his unpredictable personality make him something of an enigma to those who aren’t amiable with the lad, though hostile as he may appear, he harvests a good heart. loyalty lies at the centre of his affections, and whilst his friends are few in number, he makes a lifelong partner. somewhere within finn, there’s still some fight left, but mostly he has recognised that his hedonistic lifestyle did little to leave him fulfilled – mostly, it just emptied him out – and over his three years at university has resigned himself to a nihilistic predicament.

        if u wanna plot with me pls pls pls im me or like this post!! i am always game for plots i love em so excited to write with you all here r some ideas

study buddies. finn is now a phd student so has to start takin shit seriously. he gon be in the library every day doing that independent study. if he had ppl who were also regular library goers n they get each other coffees to save time.... tht wld be sweet

ppl who love techno dj sets and going super hard on the weekends!!! fuck yea

friends with benefits. exes on bad terms. ppl he tried to date but couldnt because he’s always emotionally hung up on someone else. spicy hook up plots

ppl he met touring?? maybe ppl who were also in the entertainment industry..... anyone got a character who is ex circus hit me up

does anyone else study criminology / forensics / criminal psych / law? phd students sometimes lecture so he cld be an assistant lecturer / tutor if ur character is in a younger year

gamers !!! social recluses !!! hermits !!

finn goes to the skatepark and all the young boys there think he’s a gradnpa which he is! 

[cherryyharryy]

Show and Tell

Harry and Y/N make their first public appearance, but things don’t go as expected.

I got this idea a few months ago but finally got the motivation for it the other day. Let me know what you think!!!!!

Part 1

She was going a little stir crazy. Okay, more than a little. But Harry had managed to keep y/n’s name out of people’s mouths whenever his was uttered, and so it seemed worth it, the secrecy, the separate cars, separate hotels... They’d escaped every fan pic and even the paparazzi wasn’t on their trail.

He’d had girlfriends before, and the older he got, the more his privacy became more sacred, so the desire to keep the girl on his arm out of the tabloids was crucial. And by the time y/n came along...he knew. He knew she was it for him, and he knew one day they’d find out about her, but for now he was going to do his best to avoid her pretty face being plastered over every magazine.

“Are you sure about this, H?”

He hummed, adjusting the glittered mask over his love’s face. “If I wasn’t sure, we wouldn’t be going.”

It was a birthday party. The invite alone cost more than y/n’s rent, and a sliver of her dignity when Harry suggested she join him since the dress code requested costumes. She didn’t know who’s birthday it was or where the shiny Bentley parked outside her apartment was taking them. All she knew was what Harry had told her about the lavish star-filled get-togethers he’d attended, and that this party was one of those that would start off classy and dignified with everyone acting like adults until someone inevitably switched gears and jumped on a table with too much wine in their system or dove into a pool with too many clothes on.

“Looks amazing, baby.”

Harry stepped back, tugging on his bottom lip with his freshly painted nails to admire the adjustments. Y/n had an elaborate mask—designed just for her at Harry’s request—hiding her face. It was a fox, an incredibly Gucci-esque-grownup-fox that molded to the shape of her face perfectly. Not too tight but with plenty of breathing room. Her eyes were hidden, and the faux fur Peter Pan collar around her neck hid the last of her skin not covered by the equally as sexy suit she had on.

“Here’s your gloves, darling. You can see alright, yeah? Need me to fix somethin’? Is it too hot?”

“Harry,” y/n giggled, “I’m fine. Actually feels pretty good, kind of empowering.” Once her white lace gloves were inched up her arms, resembling that of the animal’s, she did a little spin. “I like the heels.”

Harry’s eyes drifted down to her feet which were slipped into five-inch Louis Vuitton’s, then back up her body. “Your hair.”

“What about it?”

“I can see it,” he mumbled. “Didn’t think about that.”

“Well no one’s gonna recognize me from my hair alone, H.”

“Still, can’t be too careful.”

Y/n huffed as Harry dashed into the bathroom, following him to see his hands rifling through the cabinets.

“Oh no you don’t,” she chided, putting her hands up and backing away from his smirk. “That color looked dreadful on me.”

“It’ll wash out by Monday, love.” He was already shaking the can of hair color, an unfortunate match to y/n’s ensemble. “Now take that mask off and lean over the tub.”

***

Y/n had a bittersweet relief swimming through her brain. Because apparently attending a party with her boyfriend came with rules, and suddenly all the late nights spent dreaming about being by Harry’s side at whatever extravagant gathering he was at instead of on her couch were put into perspective.

“Don’t drink too much. And don’t go off on your own, can’t chance anyone tryin’ t’peak under your mask. Oh! And for the love of God, don’t talk.”

Harry’s rings were cold, cold enough for her to feel them through the dress shirt she wore under the jacket he refused to admit its price of when he brought it home. And his grip was tight, holding her close as if she’d get lost and never find her way back, which all in all, seemed like a potential possibility at the size of where they were. And she couldn’t guess where they were because that was all a secret. Everything was a secret, from the moment they met, and it wasn’t until a guy in a fish mask approached them with a bottle of wine in his hands that Harry’s sanity was dependent on her anonymity.

“Harry…”

“Hey, Jordan. How are you mate?”

“Thought that was you, you guys look great.”

Y/n nodded and looked over at Harry, who was decked out in a matching fox costume only his was less feminine, and he didn’t have to hide his hands or ruin his hair with cheap 24-hour dye.

“So, who’s this?”

Harry slapped Jordan’s hand away from its approach towards y/n’s mask, uttering out apologies while he pulled her closer. “It’s my uh, a friend.”

“Well can I get a name—”

“Excuse us.” Harry steered y/n away, practically dragging her from the mass of people fawning over each other’s intricate costumes.

“Harry,” she groaned, pushing his hands away. “What was that about?”

“M’sorry, I panicked.” He ran his hand through his hair, tugging on the ends. “I—I didn’t want anyone to know who you are.”

“Yeah I know,” she bit. “You’ve made that very clear.”

His shoulders slouched as he sucked in a breath. “M’just trying to protect you.”

She sighed, nodding her head. “I know. But most everyone knows you’re with someone, they just don’t know who. We’ve been together for almost two years now, I’ve earned the right to be called your girlfriend. You don’t have to hand out my blood type, but a little recognition won’t hurt.”

“Okay, you’re right.” His face was hidden, but it’d been two years, and she knew his lip was sore under his teeth and his brows were as high as they could go. “Come on, let’s go get a drink.”

***

Y/n was going to need more than a drink. Or, Alex, rather.

Alex was the name she’d been awarded with when the sixth person who inquired about who was under Harry’s companion’s mask had their hand gently pushed back down by his and those cold rings.

And she wasn’t just Alex, no. She was Alex the cousin, Alex the married hairstylist, even Alex, my sister’s best friend. And as the night drug on y/n’s patience dwindled away each time Harry patted her on the back while introducing her as some version of his friend.

“You want another drink, baby?”

“Why the hell are you whispering?”

Harry leaned in, lifting his mask an inch away from his skin. “So no one will know.”

Y/n was fuming. And Harry was lucky he couldn’t see her face, couldn’t see her lip curl at her boyfriend’s words or the glare she had steadied on him. “Right. Can’t have anyone finding out your little secret now, can we?”

“Sweetheart—”

“Don’t bother, H.”

She thrust her near empty glass into his hand and stomped off, slinking through the crowd until she found a door leading outside into the numb January air. Outside to what she now realized was a backyard, a very large, very expensive looking backyard. She followed a stone path into a garden, closed in by tall hedges, passing a dormant fountain until she found a little bench to settle on.

“Y/n?”

“Who’s y/n?”

Harry’s hair was a wild mess, face flushed under the moonlight with his mask hanging from the crook of his elbow. “What’re on about? Why’d you huff outta there like tha’?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She ripped the mask off her face, inhaling the cold night air and relishing the chilly sting soothing her warm skin.

“Y/n—”

“Who’s this y/n? I’m your...godson’s babysitter, remember? Or wait, wait, I forgot—your dogwalker’s mom.”

This time he saw the eye roll. And he definitely saw the grimace etched onto her face. “Okay,” he sighed defeated, “those are pathetic identities. But you have to admit they worked.” He chuckled, stepping closer to the bench and nodding at her legs propped up along the length of the seat. “Budge over, pet. And we can’t stay out here too long, s’freezing.”

She didn’t move, not for a few seconds until she swung her legs off, digging her heels into the ground as she stormed back towards the mansion. Once she reached the edge of the garden she turned around, crossing her arms and her ankles in a defying stance. “By the way, who the hell owns this place?”

Harry’s jaw slacked and he cleared his throat. “S’a, Benny’s.”

He stood there, staring at where she’d stood not two minutes ago and ran over the entire night in his mind, only in his head everything was playing out differently. She had a smile on that he could see, a smile that everyone tonight could see. But once reality hit and a heavy breeze grazed his skin, he made his way back, slipping the mask over his face to hide the tears sliding down his cheeks.

Read part 2 here.

[rapuvdayear]

2000: “Ghetto Qu’ran (Forgive Me)” 50 Cent (Trackmaster Ent./Columbia)

It’s been over a year since I teased the idea of doing a post about my favorite 50 Cent tracks, so I guess now is as good a time as ever to get around to it! 

With the exception of maybe Kanye, I can’t think of another rapper with more raw talent whose career has been more disappointing. Obviously both Ye and Fiddy have been monstrously successful, but IMO they either burned brightly before descending into white supremacy apologia (Kanye) or never achieved their best possible trajectory (50). It’s not an accident to put them together in this way, either; just 12 years ago next month they faced off in what turned out to be a very underwhelming battle over whose album would sell better (this was back when album sales, not streaming numbers, still meant something). In many ways, it was a crossroads for each artist: Kanye dropped what I believe was his magnum opus, then followed it up with his fourth-best album, third-best album, and second-best album, before dropping off a cliff, while 50′s release basically removed him from the conversation about who was relevant in rap (“My Gun Go Off” and “I Get Money” are honorable mentions for the list below, but otherwise Curtis is entirely forgettable). 

These days, 50 has gone the Ice Cube route and is probably more recognizable as an actor than as a rapper. So, it’s hard to remember that once upon a time he was the savior of gangsta rap and (co-)author of one of the 25 greatest albums of all time. He beat the odds to survive a shooting, link up with the two heaviest hitters (at the time) in the rap game, and even be included on some GOAT lists. He also essentially established the “flood the streets with mixtapes before your album drops” strategy of self-promotion that Gucci, Weezy, and even Drake would follow in the days before Soundcloud was the go-to resource for building a rep. He singlehandedly destroyed a rival’s career, launched a clothing line, video game, and music label, and made a halfway-decent biopic. And then... he just sort of petered out. 

But! 50 is also responsible for some of my all-time favorite raps, which is why it’s so frustrating to me that he never lived up to the buzz surrounding him back in 2003. These are my five favorites, listed chronologically, with some commentary:

1) “Ghetto Qu’ran (Forgive Me)” (2000) Before the G-Unit days and before Eminem and Dre helped launch him to superstardom, Curtis Jackson was an up and coming rapper from Queens who had attracted the attention of another rap legend, Run-DMC’s Jam Master Jay. A mutual friend introduced 19 year-old 50 to Jay back in 1996, and the veteran producer/DJ gave him a crash course in how to write songs and signed him to his fledgling label. The business relationship didn’t work out, but it helped lead 50 to Columbia Records’ Trackmasters imprint where he recorded Power of the Dollar in 1999. However, this debut album would never see the light of day after 50 was shot nine times while sitting in a friend’s car and subsequently dropped by Columbia. In the wake of the shooting--and then later, after 50 blew the fuck up in 2003--it became a sort of “lost cult classic” among rap fans. “How To Rob” got the most attention at the time, a funny-yet-vicious song demonstrating 50′s hunger through fantasies about sticking up famous rappers and R&B stars (the song was also clearly an homage to Biggie’s unreleased “Dreams,” and provoked an oblique diss from Ghostface). But “Ghetto Qu’ran” has had a more lasting impact, primarily because of how it was rumored to be the source of 50′s shooting, Jam Master Jay’s murder, and the Ja Rule/Murder Inc. beef. While all of that intrigue is important to rap lore, it distracts from the fact that it’s a near perfect rap song from a technical perspective: a catchy hook, a fantastic beat and sample, an effortless flow, and a well-crafted story that is equal parts celebration of the Queens underworld and subtle shots at street legends. Seriously, this is akin to what traveling bards used to do in medieval Europe, what poets in Ancient Greece wrote, what west African griots did/do, and what narcocorrido artists do now. If you want to learn about the Supreme Team, Pappy Mason, the Corley Family, and the Rich Porter/Alpo crew in Harlem, then this is a good place to start; as 50 puts it, “consider this the first chapter of the ghetto’s Qu’ran.” The secondary title to this track--“Forgive Me”--has a double meaning now. It was initially a plea to forgive 50 for the pain he caused in his criminal life but in retrospect an appeal to the figures whose names he drops. Also, it’s interesting to listen to this first and then compare 50′s voice with the next four tracks: this was recorded before the shooting, which left a bullet fragment lodged in his tongue that affected his speech and gave him his now-distinctive flow.    

2) “Heat” (2003) There are several standouts on Get Rich or Die Tryin’ (“Many Men,” “Back Down,” “What Up Gangsta,” “Patiently Waiting,” and “Poor Lil’ Rich” spring to mind, and I will always love “21 Questions” for the “I love you like a fat kid loves cake” line alone) but this one has always been my fave. It’s a perfect distillation of the image that 50 was trying to project when he burst onto the scene: a hood-hardened gangster who wouldn’t hesitate to do his enemies harm. And given his recent history, you could believe him, too! There’s really nothing about this song that should be praised in any way, but I’ve been thinking about the gravity of the following line a lot in the past month or so: “The summertime is a killing season/ It’s hot out this bitch, that’s a good enough reason.” Also, 50′s boast “the DA can play this motherfucking tape in court” *has* to be one of the inspirations behind this great Key & Peele sketch, right? 

3) “A Baltimore Love Thing” (2005) The Massacre was incredibly disappointing on the whole. I can remember clearly sitting around with my friends in a dorm room at the Shoreland listening to it all the way through the day that it dropped, wanting to love it but slowly realizing that it wasn’t going to live up to our expectations. “Ski Mask Way” could be an honorable mention on this list, and “Piggy Bank” is kind of funny, but otherwise it’s a steaming pile of shit. “Baltimore Love Thing,” though, is a masterpiece. It’s incredibly dark, rapped from the perspective of heroin itself (sort of like what Nas’s “I Gave You Power” does for guns) in order to detail the destruction that addiction--and, by extension, drug trafficking--leaves in its wake. Even more fucked up, 50-as-heroin voices an abusive partner addressing a woman, threatening her should she ever try to leave him. For my money, “You broke my heart, you dirty bitch, I won’t forget what you did/ If you give birth, I’ll already be in love with your kids” is one of the coldest lines in the annals of rap, full stop. In the second verse, he switches to the flip side of an abuser’s mindset: “I never steer you wrong, if you hyper I make you calm/ I’ll be your incentive, your reason for you to move forward.” All in all, it’s a great concept song that shows off 50′s range as a rapper... and is a testament to what he could have been.

4) “Hustler’s Ambition” (2005) Goddamn, I fucking love everything about this song! The beat is fantastic (great sample, btw), prefiguring the sound on a future great mixtape from the G-Unit crew. 50′s flow here is flawless, arguably the best, smoothest he’s ever been. This was basically the “theme” for 2005′s Get Rich or Die Tryin’ film, and tells the story of his come up in the drug game (or, at least, 50′s version of his carefully constructed hagiography). The lyrics are the true gems here, so I’ll just let a few of the standouts speak for themselves:

“Check my logic: fiends don’t like seeds in they weed, shit/ Send me them seeds, I’ll grow ‘em what they need”

“I sell anything, I’m a hustler, I know how to grind/ Step on grapes, put it in water, and tell you it’s wine”

“I made plans to make it, a prisoner of the state/ Now I can invite your ass out to my estate”

“Pour Cristal in the blender, make a protein shake”

and finally

“The feds watch me, icy, they can’t stop me/ Racists pointing at me, ‘Look at *****race’: Hello!”   

5) “Ghetto Like A Motherfucker” (2011) I remember first encountering this track on a Tumblr compilation (I think?) called Don’t Fuck This Up, Curtis! and allowing myself to get excited that the old 50 was back! As the compilation’s name implies, around that time 50 had been releasing a string of online-only singles that were better than anything he’d put out in five or so years, and so there was some hope that he’d soon be making a triumphant return to the rap game. Sadly, this was not to be. But I still bang this track every month or so. The idea here was that 50 had written something, set it to a very sparse, stripped-down beat, and posted it online as an invitation for DIY rap producers to play with it and layer their own compositions on top of it. In that sense, it represented a melange of rap’s earliest roots--dudes spitting over vinyl cuts in basements and parks, just fucking around and having fun--and the possibilities afforded by the digital age and rap’s embrace of online platforms for mixing and remixing material (on a side note, I like to think of this as part of 21st century rap’s “punk rock” aesthetic, and would argue that this genre has done it better than any other). As with “Hustler’s Ambition,” “Baltimore Love Thing,” and “Ghetto Qu’ran,” this track gives 50 a chance to really showcase his talents as a writer and a rapper. The lyrics are as grimy as the beat, painting a picture of urban poverty and pre-fame 50, and 50 switches up his flow at multiple points throughout. Here are some of my favorite lines:

“Slim chance I’ma go back to killing roaches/ Be quiet, you can hear the rats in the wall/ Make you wanna pump crack ‘til you stack racks”

“Dice game, shake ‘em up, praying’ for a 6/ The wolves out there hungry, they lookin’ for a lick”

“****** pissed on the staircase, in the elevator/ Now I’m pissed cuz I’m starting to smell like piss, player”

and

“All a ***** need is a block and a connect/ And a box of 9 MMs to load in the TEC.”

50′s last two studio albums--Before I Self Destruct and Animal Ambition--honestly weren’t half-bad; I would venture so far as to say that they were both better than The Massacre and Curtis. But for 50 it was too little, too late, really. Too many rappers had come along since then doing what he did, only better and fresher. This is a Migos world now; we’re just living in it. And so, I’m left to ponder what could have been. 

[walmartkaligaris]

⌜   CIS FEMALE, SHE / HER   |   buy me diamonds by bea miller, ravenclaw, estj   ⌟   ⏤   meet ANDREA PYRENA KALIGARIS ; a TWENTY year old who kind of resembles ALYCIA DEBNAM CAREY, don’t you think? they originally hailed from OLYMPUS (   ATHENS   ) where they lived with their parents, HERCULES & MEGARA (   HERCULES  ), but word is that they’ve been coming to terms with their mortality this past year. they’ve always been pretty AMBITIOUS & SELF-SUFFICIENT, but have gotten way more HEDONISTIC & DOMINATING since they woke up. maybe their power of WEATHER MANIPULATION & ENHANCED CONDITION can help in taking down the dome. you can check out her stats HERE and her pinterest board HERE.

very EARLY in her life,                  it was too late.

SECTION ONE OF THREE : BULLET POINT HISTORY trigger warnings for infant death

you can check out andrea’s full bio HERE - there really isn’t that much to her. 

her parents never planned on another kid after alex, they got pregnant, megara went into labour prematurely, andrea wasn’t breathing when she was born. after extended efforts to try to save her, the drs gave up. LEGALLY, andrea was dead.

and then her mom made a deal with hades. as you do.

in exchange for andrea getting to live for twenty one years, hades was promised her immortal soul. megara thought that was a good trade at the time, lest she lose her daughter forever, and the contract was signed. cue the baby waking up and beginning to thrive, and everyone hailing her as a ‘miracle’.

needless to say, the fact that she has a dozen or so newspaper clippings talking about her miraculous turn as an infant, AND the fact that reporters would check in every five years or so with the kid that cheated death ... kind of went to andrea’s head.

not that like, anything else wouldn’t have. andrea was an INCREDIBLY spoiled child, and she had very few expectations placed upon her shoulders - unlike alex, who had them all.

she was always closest to megara. it was just how the cookie crumbled, and it probably had a great deal to do with how she was the only one to know the limitations on andrea’s life. she indulged her every whim and forgave her a lot of mistakes and whatnot over her childhood, lending to why andrea ultimately realized she could do... pretty much anything, and her mum would always champion on her behalf. on the flipside, her closeness with meg meant that she had little room left for hercules - and that, in combination with the fact that he really didn’t know what he was supposed to do as father of a little girl, meant that they... weren’t really close, at all. he certainly LOVED andrea, and mollycoddled her in her youth - but he saw through her in a way her mum didn’t, and likewise, responded to her in a way she wasn’t used to.

as for alex... - her older brother didn’t care for her, and andrea didn’t much care for him, either. it can certainly be said that they were HORRIBLY alike, but andrea was a great deal more entitled, something that alex didn’t have time for. the age difference, though slight, didn’t help - she was too young to be a peer, and he was too old to be of any interest to her. as a young child she perhaps wished she could follow him around, more, but she lost that as she got older and hit double digits. their relationship very soon became defined as alex being the ever popular one, first, and andrea hating that she could emulate that perfectly but always had to come SECOND. 

she belonged on olympus, or at least she thought as much. her grandfather doted on her in a way he didn’t, with alex, and it did wonders for her ego to know that her family were all GODS and she was descended from them. no one ever wanted anything more from andrea than what she could give, and she got very used, very quick, to always being able to sort of... get what she wanted, and be forgiven her faults. everything that made her a ‘bitch’ on earth made her a GODDESS, on olympus. of course she was better than mortals. it was in her blood.

she attended private schools her WHOLE life, and she made them into her own personal playgrounds. where she had gotten used to coming behind alex in social circles back home - her friends were often the siblings of alex’s friends, who had memories of the other before andrea had ever come along - she found that away from all of that, she could be her own person, outside of his name. it was an exciting time for her, and it was also kind of.. detrimental, really, to her being. all the traits she might have unlearned if she had been humbled simply became staples of her personality, once and for all, as people looked to her and were in AWE of her for the way in which she carried herself.

alex being signed to PSG coincided well with andrea finally having to begin attending university, and up until that point, she had always thought she would settle for the worst school - university college disney, in santa barbara - over attending the same one as him. with his leaving, she could finally go to walt disney university. the best of the best, for the best. you can kind of understand, then, why she felt she had made SOMETHING of a mistake when she arrived and realized that alex’s memory wasn’t easily forgotten. she hated walking down corridors and having to see pictures of him with his team. hated his name being on trophies. hated people hearing ‘kaligaris’ and thinking alexander, not ANDREA. i said she had an ego, man.

but it was a good school. and she had always prioritized herself, over anyone else. she wanted to be there, so through gritted teeth, she decided to make it work. no matter what.

SECTION TWO OF THREE : HEADCANONS trigger warnings for talk of death

the most serious of developments for andrea has been learning of her ultimate fate ; something that happened on her twentieth birthday. with no way of helping her daughter in sight, and feeling that it was no longer her place to hide it, megara told andrea the truth, and andrea... kinda lost her shit. she’s going to die, and she doesn’t want to. nobody does, i suppose, but she’s always loved herself a great deal, and always had DREAMS for her future that now she realizes are forever out of reach. her mum thought it would be a kindness, to give her something of life rather than her getting nothing ; but it was a selfish choice born from not wanting to lose her daughter, and andrea... doesn’t appreciate it, as much as she probably should. it wasn’t enough.

she used to beg her grandfather to create a pegasus for her, and after many years and her mother saying ‘no’ a couple hundred times, the family settled for allowing her a cat. he’s a five year old maine coon named milos, and he hates absolutely EVERYONE, including andrea most days - but in her eyes, he’s the most precious thing that exists.

alex is, admittedly, more famous than andrea as a signed player for the paris saint germain team. but andrea is more social media famous ; a fact that brings her a LOT of joy, and him a lot of chagrin. she amassed quite a following while she was still attending school in europe, both for the photos she would post on her instagram and her wit on twitter. it continued on to when she started attending wdu, with andrea making time for her social media accounts and ‘fans’, and becoming... something of an internet celebrity. she even has a youtube channel, though she doesn’t post on it half as much as she used to. it’s nice that in at least one place, alex is HER brother, not the other way around.

she cleans when she’s stressed. she wants to be another demigod that achieves godly status, no matter how long it takes. her nails are always painted white. she suffered from dyslexia as a child, and still does. she isn’t exactly the strongest person, even with enhanced condition, but she IS wickedly intelligent and has an iq pushing 165. i cld prob think of more but i dont want to.

SECTION THREE OF THREE : WANTED CONNECTIONS

can she uh ... have some friends ? andrea is still like, a horrible person, but she’s really... tryin. i guess. to be better. please

deep sigh. enemies too

exes ! rivals ! all the basic connects

ill do more lates

[folklorecostumes]

REPUTATION LYRIC INSPIRED TOUR OUTFITS AND POSTERS PART 2

A lot of these posters are pictured in either giant bubble letters, rep font or in calligraphy. Can’t do any of these? Download the rep font or font you wish to use, type up what you want in a big enough font size, print, cut, and trace, or glue them down up to you! Of course, write these however you wish!

Hello all! Thanks for waiting so patiently for this list! Because of how long it is and how very excited you all have been waiting for this we have decided to post it into 2 parts to keep the excitement going. Part 1 is linked below! Please enjoy all the ideas we listed below, feel free to send us others you may have and want to share with the swiftie world. We apologize if the formatting on this looks bad on mobile, we are trying to actively make it easily accessible and readable across all platforms!

And lastly, enjoy and tag us in these recreations! We want to see them! We want to help them get seen by Taylor!

Find the Reputation Part 1 list here.

Find the 1989 idea list here and here.

Find the Red idea list here.

Find more costume and poster ideas and tips here.

lovelovelove,

- Reputation Costumes.

GORGEOUS:  

1.  “Gorgeous” – Few options:

      → Draw/or print the baby emoji onto a poster with a speech bubble saying the word gorgeous.

      →  Poster spelling out gorgeous between you and your friends.

      →  One poster with the word gorgeous on it. This song really sounds very bubblegum-y pop so pink and glitter and fluff and flowers can be associated with this. Keep that in mind when designing your poster.

     →  Create your own gorgeous inspired Taylor merch. Get an idea based on how her current merch looks and design a shirt similar but instead of saying like “rep” everywhere it’ll say gorgeous.

2. “Made fun of the way you talk” – Poster with a multiple taymojis of Taylor with speech bubbles including all the extra hashtags, replies, reblogs Taylor’s ever used or said. This includes (find more on tumblr or I’m sure there are screenshots of these all somewhere since she like cleared her tumblr):

     →  Mom-croon

     →  Bae

     →  Emojis

     →  “I think for me, um…”

     →  Pop Tart Squad 4 Lyfe

     →  Can’t find my chill ever

     →  Shifty Swifty Strikes Again

     →  No it’s Becky

     →  Brb going to buy more cats now

     →  Merstare

     →   I stalk because I care

     →  They see me lurkin…They hatin…

     →  Welcome to moo York

3. “Magnetic field being a little too strong” – Glue magnets onto a shirt and create a poster cut into the shape of a giant U-shaped magnet with that lyric written in it.

4. “Whiskey on ice” – Poster of a tumbler filled with whiskey and ice. The lyrics can be written into the ice cubes.

5.  “Sunset and Vine” – Few options:

      →  One person dresses up as a sunset, see the idea above for the “grey days clear” lyric in So It Goes…

      →  Another person dresses up similar to Poison Ivy from DC Comics or one of the other poison/vine related looks listed above for Don’t Blame Me.

      →  Poster with a map street view with a pin at the intersections of Sunset and Vine.

      →  Dress like you’re favorite vine!

      →  Poster cut out to look like a vine video post, you can take pictures with it as if you’re in the vine. Have the caption of the vine video be a cute lyric from the rep album!

6. “You’re so gorgeous, I can’t say anything to your face” – 2 options:

      →  Wear a morph suit or shirt consisting of only Taylor’s face over and over—can be where she’s making a funny/weird face or can be just a normal shot of her face. Have a poster saying “you’re so gorgeous” to go along with this.

      →  You and a friend can have two posters, one that says, “You’re so gorgeous, I can’t say anything to your” and have an arrow pointing over to your friend. Their poster will be a giant cut out of Taylor’s head.

7. “Cause you’re so gorgeous it actually hurts” – Poster saying Taylors so gorgeous it actually hurts. Can have a friend hold one that says “(Honey, it hurts)” or you can write that underneath the main lyric in the ( ).

8. “Ocean blue eyes looking in mine” – Poster of eyes, draw them big enough where you could draw waves of water where you’d shade it blue for eye color.

9. “There’s nothing I hate more than what I can’t have” – Typically we don’t recommend this simply because it canget fans overlooked, however it’s funny and cute so here it is: Write this lyric with “(t-party, club red, loft 89)” underneath in a small font, cross them out like that too since we won’t know the name of the after party show!

10.  “Guess I’ll just stumble on home to my cats” – Buy 2 cheap plush cats, maybe at a local dollar store, glue the heads of it onto a poster (or cut holes into the poster and stick the stuffies through, make sure they’ll stay all night though) and write the lyrics. Draw paw prints along the poster. Could pair with cat shirts and cat accessories. Could also glue multiple mini plush cats to an outfit and pair with a poster cut into the shape of a paw print. @taylortreasures has created an outfit similar to this!

GETAWAY CAR:

1. “Best of times, worst of crimes” – Set of posters for you and a friend to match with.

       →  Times poster could consist of multiple watches/clocks drawn throughout the words

      →  While crimes poster could have things like handcuffs, stolen money bags, cars all drawn throughout it. Turn these poster ideas into two unique outfits!

2. “Struck a match and blew your mind” – Set of posters:

      →  Poster in the same of a match with a flame.

      →  Poster drawing out the words “mind blown” in pink. See link to get a good idea, don’t draw the bitmoji.

3. “Ties were black, lies were white” – Dress up fancy for this! Think Blank Space video but before the outfits get torn up! Poster can read, one a white poster board, “lies were” and then leaving the rest blank. Could write “white” in glow in the dark paint/tape that would only show after the lights go off.

4. “X marks the spot where we fell apart” – 2 options:

     →  Treasure map idea, see End Game “bury hatchets” idea!

     →  Write out your stadium(s) name and draw a giant red X over it and write  “where we fell apart” underneath.

5. “From the first Old Fashioned” – 2 options:

      →  Dress old fashioned—so like pick a decade and go with it! May we recommend the 80s ;)

      →  Poster in the shape of a tumbler that appears to be filled with an “old fashioned”, be sure to include the small details like a lemon rime/wedge and a cherry!

6. “Never had a shot gun shot in the dark” – Poster of the night sky with cutout bullet holes in it. Write the lyric out in mini glow in the dark stars to stand out!

7. “Drivin’ the getaway car” – Few options:

      →  Poster in the shape of a car. Think of a 1969 Camaro or another vintage car that’s often seen in movies involving getaway cars. The lyrics from the chorus can look like its spray painted on the side of the car or front depending on how you face it in the poster.

       →  Poster of the front of a car that’s cutout so you can wear it to look like you’re sitting in the car. Could have fake money hanging off the edges to make it look like money is flying out.

        →  Poster with any of the chorus lyrics with a little drawing of a car speeding away with money flying out or drawing of tire tracks on the ground. Perfect for the “we were flyin’ but we never get far”

8. “Don’t pretend it’s such a mystery” – Few options:

        →  Poster of the side of the Scooby doo van with the lyrics above the word Mystery that’s painted onto the van (omit words “the” and “machine”)

        →  Make a Clue game board involving Taylor scenes from videos/tour pics etc and you can even include Olivia in a little detective outfit and a magnifying glass. Have a few game cards flipped over on the board with the lyrics being written across them.

9. “Think about the place where you first met me” – Met Taylor before? Or even some of her band members, dancers, parents, team? Make a poster with any pictures of these events and the lyrics!

10. “Sirens in the beat of your heart” – Draw a heartbeat line emitting from a police car or the red and white lights attached to the top of them (think the portable round ones’ undercover cops would attach to their cars). Put this idea onto a poster. Could even cut out the shape of the red and white siren lights and the heartbeat line and use glow in the dark tape/paint to make it stand out.

11. “The great escape, the prison break” – Dress up as runaway prisoners or thieves on the run! You can make posters in the shape of giant money sacks.

12. “A circus ain’t a love story” – Few options:

       →  WANEGBT tour outfits from Red tour worn by Taylor and dancers!

                  → This includes ring leader, clowns, acrobats, etc

       →  Traditional circus outfits

       →  Love Story, a classic Taylor song! Dress like the music video or past performances of this song.

       →  Romeo + Juliet

13. “Hit you like a shot gun shot to the heart” – Same concept as above, however instead of a night sky poster, have a large cut out heart with bullet holes in it.

14. “We were jet-set, Bonnie and Clyde” – Dress as the infamous Bonnie and Clyde!

15. “Put the money in a bag and I stole the keys” – Bank robber with a money sack poster. Reference the poster to either show it’s a friend’s (or Taylor’s) money and have novelty keys hanging off the tie of the bag.

16. “I was ridin’/cryin’/dyin’ in a getaway car” – Few options:

      →  Poster using a car emoji, the crying emoji and the skull emoji in the lyrics.

      →  “I was crying to getaway car” pun on you enjoying the song poster

     →  “I was dying to hear getaway car” poster

KING OF MY HEART:

17. “I made up my mind, I’m better of bein’ alone” – Poster saying you’re better off being a swiftie.

18. “We met a few weeks ago.” – Tribute to if you’ve met Taylor/her team/parents/band/dancers/etc on a poster or shirt.

19. “Callin’ me baby like tryin’ on clothes” – Poster board that’s interactive! Make a cut out Taylor (using the IKP outfit from 1989 tour will be the best option to start) and attach multiple tour outfits or appearance outfits she’s worn with double sided tape or some other adhesive and allow fans to try different outfits on Taylor!

20. “Salute to me, I’m your American Queen” – Few options:

         →  Dress up as a Queen/royalty

         →  America/4thof July inspired outfits

         →  Crown and sash/Pageantry. Sash can say “Miss American Queen” You could even have a fake acceptance speech written out on a poster board that says like “And I want to thank Taylor…”

        →  Poster cut out into the shape of a crown.

        →  “you traded your baseball cap for a crown” relate KOMH to Long Live.

        → Poster saying this lyric and have American Queen colored in red, white and blue.

21. “You move to me like I’m a Motown beat” – Motown beats originated in gospel music but also in the 1970s music industry, use these two to inspire decade looks! The 70s were big on disco.

22. “With their range rovers and their jaguars” – 2 options:

       →  Poster in the shape of the range rover or jaguar emblem.

       →  Wear or make merch that looks dawns these brands emblems.

23. “You are the one I have been waiting for” – Poster ideas:

       →   Typically, we don’t recommend this simply because it can get fans overlooked, however it’s fun and cute so here it is: Write this lyric with “(t-party, club red, loft 89)” underneath in a small font, cross them out like that too since we won’t know the name of the after-party show!

       →  Taylor’s the one I have been waiting for on a poster.

24. “King of my heart” – Few ideas:

      →  Giant heart shaped poster with a king’s crown and mini robe attached to it.

     →  Poster using the crown emoji and the heart emoji.

     →  Going with a significant other? Have them dress up as a King (or Queen) and have them hold a fake heart (think the vampire diaries but less gore ha) or hold a cutout heart poster. You can wear heart shaped sunglasses (think heart eyes motherf*cker vine) and shirt with these lyrics and an arrow pointing to your significant other.

     →  Going alone but like the above idea? You can say you have Taylor’s heart or she has yours instead.

25. “I’ve been waiting” – Poster including how many days you counted down for your tour date(s).

26. “Late in the night, the city’s asleep” – Poster using the visual opening for WTNY that showed the landscape of the city at night. Use glow in the dark stars over the skyline and hole punch the lettering when writing out the lyric.

27. “Your love is a secret I’m hoping, dreaming, dying to keep” – 2 ideas:

      →  Make a poster using this lyric and draw out the emotions of hoping, dreaming and dying. Think of the see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil sort of imaging.

     →  “Taylor’s love is a secret I’m hoping, dreaming, dying to keep”

28. “With a school girl crush” – Dress up as if you’re trying to impress your crush on the first day of school! Have a poster that consist of those passing note questions you’d send your crush but have them addressed to Taylor. (ex. Do you like me? Circle one. Etc)

29. “Drinking beer out of plastic cups” – Red solo cup poster.

30. “Say you fancy me, not fancy stuff” – First fancy in the lyric draw heart and draws in the sentence and the second fancy draw diamond rings, luxury items etc. with a large red X through them.

DANCING WITH OUR HANDS TIED:

1. “Oh twenty-five years old” – Poster with your age in replace of the 25 lyric.

2. “My love had been frozen” – Few options:

       →  Poster in the shape of a heart that is frosted over and turning blue.

       →  Poster with these lyrics but the word frozen is drawn like the movie poster font for the Disney film.

       →  Winter wonderland type of outfit or poster. Think Snow Queen.

       →  Dress as Elsa, Anna or Olaf.

3. “Deep blue, but you painted me golden” Few options:

      →  Two matching posters saying Deep Blue and Golden painted in the prospective colors.

      →  Matching outfits made from the prospective colors.

      →  “Deep Blue” think the deep sea.

      →  Dress up as a painter.

4. “Picture of your face in an invisible locket” – Make a poster cut out in the shape of a locket, have it folded to open up like an actual locket and have a picture of Taylor in it.

5. “But we were dancing” – Poster with these lyrics, have the dancer emoji drawn on it.

6. “Dancing with our hands tied” –  2 options:

        →  Poster in the shape of a pair of hands tied together.

       →  Poster with these lyrics. Have it split up if you’re going with a group of friends.

7. “Yeah, we were dancing, like it was the first time” – First Taylor show? Make this poster dedicated to seeing Taylor for the first time!

8. “Through an avalanche” – Poster in the shape of a mountain top with the words of the lyrics to appear to be snowballing down the side of mountain.

9. “I’m a mess, but I’m the mess that you wanted” – 2 options:

       →  Dress up like you’re a mess and have a poster to match with the lyrics.

       →  Poster that says you’re the mess Taylor wanted.

      → You’re a mess because of Taylor poster.

9. “Cause its gravity, oh keeping you with me” – Poster with these lyrics but have them begin to fall down and off the poster. Have cut out letters dangle off the poster.

10. “I’d kiss you as the lights went out” - few options:

        →  Poster in the shape of lips painted red. Use red reflective tape to make it stand out.

       →  Poster adorned with miniature red lips all over it. Use glow in the dark tape/paint on the words “lights went out” so it stands out.

       →  Make a cut out poster of the lyrics “lights went out” and fill the letters with glitter, as much as you can. Do a matte finish or laminate it so you can shake it up and have the glitter move around.

11. “If I could dance with you again” – Print out the photo of Taylor performing Holy Ground on the Red Tour, print it large enough that you can make a cutout silhouette of her dancing as a poster. Don’t have the resources to print it big enough? Try your best to sketch the outline! Incorporate the lyrics either into the silhouette or have it as a sort of a halo written around the entire silhouette of her!

DRESS:

1. “Our secret moments in a crowded room” – Poster with the words secret moments being suffocated by a multitude of things such as confetti, glitter, charcoal etc. Have the words pop out of whatever you chose to relate to the sense of a crowded room.

2. “There is an indentation in the shape of you” – Poster cut out into the shape of the indent of a person lying in bed.

3. “Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo.” –  2 options:

        →  Wear those gold jewelry type tattoos people wear to music festivals!

        →  Poster asking Taylor to make her mark on you with her signature.

4. “All this silence and patience, pining and anticipation/pining and desperately waiting” – Few options:

        →  Poster of these 4 adjectives for you and your friends to hold!

       →  Desperately waiting for rep room.

5. “Say my name and everything just stops” – 2 options:

       →  Say my name, Beyonce/Destiny’s Child connection.

        →  Say Taylor’s name and everything just stops.

6. “Only bought this dress so you could take it off” – 2 options:

       →  Poster in the shape of a dress, possibly little black dress since Taylor has referenced those forever.

       →  Make an outfit that you can transform from dress to whatever else you want! Think tear away tour outfit!

7. “Carve your name into my bedpost” – Poster of a headboard with Taylor’s name or initials into it, make it look carved in. Could even carve out lyrics or the word reputation.

8. “And if I get burned, at least we were electrified” – 2 ideas:

       →  Two posters of the words Burned and Electrified. Have burned be made or engulfed in flames and have electrified have lightning bolts striking off of it.

       →  Make the poster idea above into an outfit. Use reflective tape and cut out pieces into the shape of flames or lightning bolts and attach them to the outfits.

9. “I’m spilling wine in the bathtub” – Poster in the shape of a wine glass. Cut it so it’ll be on an angle and have red or rose wine sloshing out of the rim.

10. “Flashback when you met me” – Met Taylor/her team/parents/dancers/band? Make this a tribute to them!

11. “Even in my worst times, you could see the best of me” – Make a poster using headlines about Taylor and have them slashed up and covered with positive memories and headlines and all her success. Have reputation written in the middle of it.

12. “My one and only, my lifeline” – Poster made of these lyrics. Could also say Taylor’s my one and only, my lifeline.

THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS:

1. “It was so nice throwing big parties” – Posters made to look like balloons, party favors, etc. Think Gatsby and vintage since this is a popular theme in this song.

2. “Everyone swimming in a champagne sea” – Make a poster in the shape of a giant champagne bottle and have confetti looking like its pouring out of it.

3. “Feeling so Gatsby for that whole year” – 2 options:

       →  Dress vintage and 1920s Gatsby like.

       →  Use the Great Gatsby font and make a poster using these lyrics.

4. “So why’d you have to rain on my parade” – Make an outfit that looks like you’re a part of a parade celebration and hold a poster in the shape of a rain cloud with raindrops dangling from it. Use reflective or glow in the dark tape for the rain drops to stand out.

5. “This is why we can’t have nice things” – Poster of these lyrics but instead of the word nice, replace with drawn items or emojis of things like rings, money, designer brand labels.

6. “But you stabbed me in the back while shaking my hand” – 2 options:

       →  Related to back to Bad Blood, check out our 1989 costumes post to get some ideas.

       →  Where a fake knife attached to the back of your shirt, you can find these sort of props at a Halloween/gag store or at like Party City.

7. “Get you on the phone and mind-twist you” – Cut out of an old fashion rotary phone and have a speech bubble coming out of the speaker portion of the phone to make it look like the person on the other line is saying “mind-twist you”

8. “So I took and axe to a mended fence” – 2 options:

     →  Could recreate a blank space music video or tour look

     →  Poster in the shape of an axe.

9. “If only you weren’t so shady” – Poster in the shape of sunglasses with these lyrics reflected into the frames.

10. “Here’s a toast to my real friends” – 2 options:

    →  Poster with these lyrics and champagne glasses clinking drawn throughout

    →  Poster in the shape of a champagne glass clinking with another, could even make two (or more) separate ones for you and your friends to match.

11. “He-said-she-said” – few options:

    → He said she said is typically hearsay/rumors, so you could dress up as a news reporter.

    →  Using the NYT’s font aka reputation font as a background/filter for the lyrics in a poster. Think of how it looks on the right ride (Taylor’s left) on the album cover.

    →  Poster of a fake headline regarding Taylor. Could recreate the back of the reputation magazine covers. Have the headline be the lyric.

12. “Here’s to my baby” – Poster idea. Do what you think works best with this as it’s a very simple line.

13. “Here’s to my momma” – Poster dedicated to Mama Swift.

14. “Had to listen to all this drama” – Drama poster, it’d be a cool idea if you bought all those crappy tabloids and sort of papier-mâché the word out of all the headlines revolving around drama.

15. “Because you break them” – 2 options:

    →  Poster cutout of a broken fancy item. Could be a broken award, broken watch, etc anything fancy that you deem making.

    →  Make an outfit out of the idea above, wear broke items glued to you.

CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT:

1. “My castle crumbled overnight” – Poster in the shape of a castle, could have pieces hanging off or broken to represent it crumbling. You could also dress up as a princess/prince.

2. “I bought a knifer to a gunfight” – 2 options:

   →  Foam knife/sword accessory

   →  Poster of the knife emoji

3. “They took the crown” – Crown shaped poster or plastic crown to wear!

4. “My baby’s fit like a daydream” – Few options:

    →  Fit is British slang for attractive or good looking. Make a pun of the word fit and have a poster that looks like a guys six-pack abs.

   →  Poster in the shape of a thought bubble with the lyrics “my baby’s fit” could even use all or some emojis in replace of the words.

   →  Could dress up as a sort of fairy/daydream-y/soft type of persona. So wings, pastel colors, definitely having jewels glued around your eyes and such! Have fun with this look, for makeup lookup festival looks or mermaid looks to get an idea.

5. “I’m the one he’s walking to” – Poster replacing the lyric “he’s” for “Taylor’s. Could have foot tracks painted around the lyrics or even use high heel cutouts from magazines and catalogs rather than painting foot tracks.

6. “Call it what you want” – Paint this in a pretty pastel color in a calligraphy font. Have the background of the poster have a soft feel to it, like cloud and starry like. Could even make a 3D type poster and have plush either as the background or as the letting.

7. “My baby’s fly like a jet stream” Few options:

    →  Poster in the shape of a plane/jet with these lyrics behind the plane in a loop. Think of how planes on maps so dashes to track their paths.

    →  “Taylor’s fly like a jet stream”

    →  Couples costume of a pilot and attendant.

8. “High above the whole scene” – 2 options:

    → Poster of a skyline. Can be whatever city skyline you’d like, maybe even emphasis in the building windows/lights which city; it’d be cool to reference your tour stop! Have the poster cut out to mimic the buildings rather than drawing in a sky.

    →  Could make a poster of a bird since they fly above the scene, as well as planes like referenced above. Could relate this back to 1989!

9. “Loves me like I’m brand new” – Few options:

     →  Not necessarily tour outfit related but don’t want to dress up? Simply buy a nice outfit and only where it the day of the show! It’s brand new. Could even be Taylor merch.

    →  Poster of a giant price tag that has Love written as the amount. The product into written on the tag could say like Taylor Swift. Size: Reputation Stadium Tour

    →  Taylor loves me like I’m brand new.

    →  Poster of a new package or wrapped gift with the tag saying “love you – (name or xoxo)”

10. “All my flowers grew back as thorns” – 2 options:

    → 3D poster of like a thorn-bush or vine type thorn with only a few flowers still left on it. Have the lyrics written or painted out in a deep green cursive font, intertwining with the thorns.

     →  Buy or make a skirt and attach fake flowers to the entire skirt so it is covered. Buy or make a top and attach plastic “thorns” or vines around the top and have them hang off of it so it looks like they are slowly taking over the flowers. Have the top be very dull and lackluster in color but have what is remaining on the skirt be full of color.

11. “Windows boarded up after the storm” – Poster of a broken windowsill with boards covering up the cracked window. You could even make the boards openable like a book so that when you appeared into the window you could see the fire that is referenced in the next line. Have caution tape covering the planks but have the lyrics written repeatedly over the caution tape.

12. “He built a fire just to keep me warm” -  See idea above OR make a poster in the shape of the flame emoji or a log campfire.

13. “All the drama queens taking swings” – Dress up as a baseball or softball player and have your team name be Drama Queens. Make a baseball bat poster with the word reputation on it.

14. “All the jokers dressing up as kings” – Dress up as a joker/clown/fool but masquerade as a king so also were a crown and possible a cape. Make a sign that says “King of Reputation” or that displays the lyric.

15. “They fade to nothing when I look at him” – 2 options:

     →  Poster with these lyrics where it looks like the words are fading off the poster. Use glow in the dark paint/tape to have it still show after the lights go down.

    → They fade to nothing when I look at Taylor.

16. “I did one thing right” – Poster that says Swiftie or Proud swiftie, meant to represent you made the right choice in being a fan of Taylor.

17. “I’m laughing with my lover, makin’ forts under covers” -  Make a poster that is drawn like a bed fort, so multitude of different blanket patterns etc and attach a speech bubble to the top of the poster to show either “hahahaha” or “* giggling *”“* laughing *” to make it look like there’s laughing underneath the sheets.

18. “Starry eyes sparkin’ up my darkest night” – few options:

     →  Dress up in a costume that is galaxy themed. So tons of stars, especially glow in the dark ones, have glitter, moons, a tutu and have it all be in a navy blue. Your matching poster can be in the shape of a shooting star with the lyrics “Sparkin’ up my darkest night.” Use reflective tape or glow in the dark paint to stand out!

    →  Poster cut out of eyes and have the galaxy drawn in them rather than simply coloring in a regular eye color.

   →  Could have a lit match or sparkler shaped poster.

19. “I want to wear his initial on a chain round my neck” – Make a poster of Taylor’s initial’s and wear them like a necklace. Think back to when flavor flav wore a giant watch.

20. “Late November” – Poster of this exact lyric but have it big enough where you can decorate inside the words and have it fall themed.

21. “Would you run away with me? (Yes)” – Make a poster asking Taylor if she’d run away with you. Have it set up like a check yes or no question and have a paw print or 13 stamped in the yes box.

NEW YEAR’S DAY:

1. “There’s glitter on the on the floor after the party” – Few options:

     →  Glitter, glitter glitter! Wear sparkly outfits (think NYE) and have body glitter all over you. Have fun and extra glittery makeup looks and have a poster of these lyrics written out in glittery puffy paint.

    →  Have a poster made that looks like you’re staring down at hardwood floor and have a spilled glitter container open, glitter all over the bottom of the floor with the lyrics written out (think written out as if someone took their finger and just wrote it out in the pile).

     →  “After the party” – reference the end of your show with this, rep room.

     →  “There’s swifties on the floor after the party(concert)”

2. “Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby” – Poster cut out and drawn to look like you’re carrying a pair of high heels. Look at some of the heels Taylor’s worn for previous tours and outfits and recreate them on a poster.

3. “Candle wax and polaroids on the hardwood floor” – Few options:

     →  Burning candle poster, could be a simple candle, could be in a jar like the ones she uses frequently, or it could be decorated with things that remind you of Taylor and Reputation.

    →  Polaroid poster (1989).

    →  Poster of burned out candles and dried wax on the floor (look up the candles Taylor loves to have in her home and create the logo for the posters) and polaroids scattered on a hardwood floor (reference the opening lyric idea to get how to picture this.) Have the polaroids be pictures from the reputation magazine.

4. “Don’t read the last page” – Poster of the opening/dedication page of a book with this lyric written in it. Either make it look like the author purposely wrote it, OR have all the prewritten info from said book be information about Taylor and the reputation tour and use her handwriting from 1989 and have it look like she handwrote “don’t read the last page” as a note to the next reader. Make it look three dimensional by having the page look like it’s about to be turned to the next.

5. “But I stay” – Make a poster of these lyrics but make it big enough that you are able to write inside of each individual letter. Write the speech Taylor gave about how she felt her hands were tied behind her back but swifties always defended her (it’s a clean speech). Could even write long live lyrics.

6. “I want your midnights” – 2 options:

     →  An analog clock striking midnight

    →  Or a digital clock (think the old digital though where the numbers physically flipped rather than it being just animated) and have the numbers look like they’re changing from 11:59PM to 12:00AM.

7. “But I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you” – Poster of a recycling bin that is piling up with empty champagne and wine bottles. Have all the labels on the bottles be song titles or lyrics!

8. “New Year’s Day” – Few options:

     →  Dress up like its NYE/NYD. This means glitter, 2018 hats and glasses, champagne, confetti and streamers, dresses or skirts and crop tops. It also means holidays, so you could reference a few other things as well with this.

     →  Poster drawn out of the NYE ball dropping. On the countdown screen you could either write the lyric (full or just NYD) or you can write how long you waited for your show.

     →  Simply just sketching out the words New Year’s Day however you may want.

     →  Midnight kiss, so a poster of lips.

     →  “Ring” in the new year. Could be a poster of a bell or a ring.

9. “in the back of the taxi” – Dress up like a taxi or make a poster of the backside of a taxi with the silhouette of two people sitting in it. Have the license plate reference reputation or swifties. Be sure it’s a NY plate.

10. “I’ll be there if you’re the toast of the town, babe” – Few options:

     →  Could do a large poster that looks like a champagne glass with a tag/ribbon hanging off the stem (think like seating cards) that says Toast of the Town.

    →  An award poster (like an Oscar or such) but instead of it saying Best Picture etc it’ll say “Toast of the Town: (name)” You can either write your name or Taylor’s name or even Joe’s.

    →  Poster of a cut out magazine cover you can take photos in (or make it look like an Instagram post) and have the little blurb on the “cover” say this lyric. Make the magazine a reference to the rep mags.

11. “If you strike out and you’re crawling home” – Baseball or softball player costume with a poster in the shape of a bat. Could even have two posters for you and a matching friend where the bat is broken in half and you’re each holding a split end.

12. “Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you” – Few options:

     →  Reference long live. Whether it’s by poster or you want to recreate the long live tour outfit!

     →  Poster of the word memories but have it being spelled out by photos from previous tours, Taylor with fans, from previous album booklets. Tumblr likes/posts, etc.

    →  Met Taylor/her team/band/dancers/parents/etc? Wear an outfit or make a poster using pictures and memories from that moment.

    →  Poster of the word memories being hugged/squeezed. Don’t have to draw the entire body, just arms wrapping around the word.

     →  Have a poster in the shape of a jar and have it labeled Memories and then fill it with your favorite Taylor memories. So love the Speak Now album? Write the words Speak Now in big block/bubble letters in the jar. Keep doing this with words of memories you like. Don’t have the words overlap, simply cut off a word if it doesn’t fit. Make it seem full but not unreadable.

13. “And I will hold on to you” – Poster of this lyric just as is. Maybe make it written on a music sheet or on piano keys. Could also write Taylor will hold on to you or I will hold on to Taylor.

14. “Please don’t ever become a stranger” – Poster dedicated to her 6 albums.

15. “Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere” – Poster collage of all the photos of Taylor laughing.

16. “You and me forevermore” – Poster of the word forevermore. When I hear this line, I think of a clear night sky, glitter, love, passion so incorporate that into this creation. Maybe have it made out of stars or hearts, or have it made out of flowers. Whatever you envision when you hear this.

THEMES OR GENERAL IDEAS:

1. Make poster that looks like the popup stage in the reputation VIP tour box, make it out of papier-mâché newspapers.

2. Snake poster.

3. Use the dialogue from the LWYMMD end scene as funny posters.

4. Meredith and Olivia posters.

5. Reputation/REP poster cut out using the rep font.

6. “There will be no further explanation. There will be just reputation”

7. Lots of gold and metallic colors, glitter.

8. TS/TAS Initial Poster

WHY SHE DISAPPEARED POEM:

1. “Pavement she once decorated as a child with sidewalk cross” – Poster that looks like a sidewalk drawing.

2. “Her skin was spattered with ink” – Use body paint to spatter ink on your arms and clothes. Make a poster using the same idea. Maybe use the word snake in some of the spatters.

3. “She rose slowly” – Poster of a flower slowly blooming.

4. “Avoiding old haunts and sidestepping shiny pennies” – 2 options:

      →  Poster of a ghost (think emoji)

     →  Poster of a penny or writing out this piece of the poem using pennies (or drawing them if you don’t want to waste the money)

5. “Way of phone calls and promises” – Relate this back to All Too Well or LWYMMD. Have a phone poster with a speech bubble writing this line.

6. “Waded out into the dark, wild ocean up to her neck” – The ocean is almost all unexplored so have fun with this line. You could do mythical mermaids or sirens. Or you could make an outfit out of seashells and seaweed. Your poster could be a cutout of a wave.

7. “And in the death of her reputation, she felt truly alive” – This is a GREAT quote for a poster and to really sum up the entire reputation era.

IF YOU’RE ANYTHING LIKE ME POEM:

1. “Cross your fingers” -  Poster of crossed fingers.

2. “Wish on lucky numbers” – Poster of a number cutout related to Taylor. (13, 22, 1989)

3. “Rest in Peace, to your naïve bravado” – 2 options:

     →   Poster of a gravestone addressed to your naïve bravado.

     →  Dress up as a zombie (zombie Taylor) and where a tombstone or have written on shirt “Here Lies my Naïve Bravado”

4. “Secret garden gate” – Poster of a flower garden. Have it three dimensional so use craft flowers.

5. “Each new enemy turns to steel” – This line reminds me so much of Yellow Flicker Beat by Lorde in the line “I’m locking up everyone who ever laid a finger on me” Maybe make a poster combining these two ideas.

6. “You’ve grown to hate your pride and to love your thighs”

7. “But Darling, it’s going to be okay”