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ugh-againwiththenames · 3 years

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A Musical Social Experiment...Destiel.

Alright, so I thought to myself, while playing along with @thenightwemetnatural‘s Destiel song picks, that despite my musical tastes, and them tending typically (although not exclusively) towards the Metal genres, that EVERY song can in some way, be paralleled to Destiel. This is such a ridiculous experiment, and I apologize, but I’m at the cottage, and it’s fucking pouring with rain, so let’s play…

Here are the rules: take your Music library and throw it on Shuffle – every song that comes on for an hour(ish), connect it to Destiel...(below the cut for my results).

You can access the playlist here (if you have any interest in listening along!). I am not going to necessarily describe every possible connection - I think that a lot of them are SUPER obvious...like *eyes rolling out of my head* obvious...

In the End – Black Veil Brides – Well we’re off to a hell of a start, as this song from start to finish screams Destiel and sacrifice. In the end As my soul's laid to rest What is left of my body Or am I just a shell? And I have fought And with flesh and blood I commanded an army Through it all I have given my heart for a moment of glory Who will remember this last goodbye 'Cause it's the end and I'm not afraid I'm not afraid to die A Modern Way - The Exies – only on song 2, and it’s once again, really hard to cut out any of this song, as the repeating “I’m bound by my insecurities” SCREAMS Dean at me.

I’m Bound by my insecurities

Open your eyes and Throw your arms around me I need the right not to fight To breathe

Swallow the lies I'm the one to blame Having no voice left to choose Am i so blind, feeling justified When i'm alone and confused

Brother – NEEDTOBREATHE – I have to laugh…as I added this after watching Jensen sing this at a Con (for J*red), and no lie, I’m in LOVE with it, but it’s somehow now determinably connected to the brothers for me but I can/WILL draw the lines here…EASY.

Everybody needs someone beside em’ shining like a lighthouse from the sea Face down in the desert now there’s a cage locked around my heart I found a way to drop the keys where my failures were Now my hands can’t reach that far I ain’t made for a rivalry I could never take the world alone I know that in my weakness I am strong, but It’s your love that brings me home Summoners Rift – Dangerkids – Um. Well. The first line of this song just made me laugh out loud.

There's no room for martyrs in a dying scene Well I'm not quite dead I'm something in between

And if I had another chance I would tell you

I guess I'm not afraid of what comes after We are the only ones We stand alone in the dark

Question everything you blindly follow Truth's a bitter pill, it's hard to swallow You think you're winning but your time is borrowed We are the only ones We stand alone in the dark

Royal Beggars - Architects - I mean…the repetition of my sentiments is going to get a bit silly…so i will not. read on...

All hope is dead, but we're coping

Somebody save our souls

Like a bird in a cage, trying to fly away Is this the price that we have to pay? Overflowing with rage, yet we still obey 'Cause we're asleep in a hurricane

We sit on a throne, waiting for God to bend the knee But we're nothing more than royal beggars

Edge of your Bed - Thousand Below - “why’d you have to go and keep calling out my name” Calling out my name” pure purgatory “where’s the ANGEL” “I prayed to you Cas, Every night” The rest of the next verse is also poignant, very Dean again “where I can only feel peace when the wave hits”, “and I’ve become what I thought was wrong, I love the feeling when it feels too strong”.

Why'd you have to go and keep calling out my name? Calling out my name

I found sorrow at the edge of your bed

Is it now a bad habit? Where I can only feel peace when the wave hits And I've become what I thought was wrong I love the feeling when it feels too strong

Animals – Siamese - “It takes a killer that thinks he’s a saint, it takes believing to be this insane” – well. yes. ok.

Shattered not broken We stand our feet Houses rebuild on These bloody streets I fill my lungs into this beat With closed eyes we're hoping for remedy

It takes a killer That thinks he's a saint It takes believing To be this insane

Spineless Crow - Hands Like Houses

We were young together but I've grown ancient Cracked and weathered and filled with regret Waiting to sink, rushing to sink in my sleep

The realization sinks in through the skin Like a disease, a blight inside of me Missing your touch, your weight on my fingers

My Underworld - Tonight Alive

Now we sail into deep blue storm clouds Overhead now, strangely I feel at peace as I dive into My underworld, world I dive into my underworld, world Down in these depths I'm adding up the numbers Of all I've suffered in past lives, tied down in the darkness Finally I begin to learn what I've returned tonight Time has come to begin again, leave something else behind

Ever After - Marianas Trench - All this talk of being someone’s disaster – Welp! Hello!

Don't you move Can't you stay where you are, just for now I could be your perfect disaster You could be my ever after

Apologies, I'm not myself but I can guarantee That when I get back, you won't believe That you knew me well Don't want to think about it

I'm fuckin' tired of getting sick about it Now stand back up and be a man about it And fight for something, fight for something, fight for something Nobody told ya this is gonna fold ya We go marching in like toy soldiers To have and hold ya over sold ya They’re marching like toy soldiers I'll be your disaster, ever after So fire away Goodbye

Room 138 - Asking Alexandria - While this song is clearly actually about an overdose of some kind, it’s parallels shockingly well to the post confession scene. So these are the walls that have to hold this moment Somebody hear me, someone open up the door Get me up off of this floor and stop the shaking, the shaking Through the haze I saw a face A second chance, another life to live How did you forgive me? Held my head against your chest Told me everything's alright, don't be afraid Close your eyes and rest

Witness – Daughtry

Does it feel like you're just wasting time Here without a reason or a rhyme The answer you've been looking for Is standing right before your weary eyes And if the weight of the world is on you now But you know you can turn it all around again How Many Walls - Rise Against - Guys, seriously, I’m not even going there...How many years have we wasted….how many walls can you put up? How many guns til you feel safe? This is a song about war – this is Rise Against, this is purely political and somehow can STILL be pulled together with Destiel.

How many walls can you put up?

How many guns 'til you feel safe? How many times can we watch this story Over and over and over again? And how many years have we wasted Counting the lies that we've been fed? For something to change we have waited Over and over and over again Pray – Picturesque - Nope. Don’t even need a description here. Once again this is FAR TOO OBVIOUS!

I should pray a little more and think a little less The devils in my head and he won't let me rest Everyday just like the last since you up and left I should pray a little more, I shouldn't pray for death I Knew You Were Trouble – We Came as Romans (Swift Cover) - SwiftNatural is a thing for a reason…

It's like a kaleidoscope of memories. It just all comes back. But he never does. I knew his world moved too fast and burned too bright. But I just thought, how can the devil be pulling you toward someone who looks so much like an angel

I think that the worst part of it all wasn't losing him. It was losing me. Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago I was in your sights, you got me alone You found me

I knew you were trouble when you walked in (you were right there, you were right there) So shame on me now Flew me to places I'd never been Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground Texas Is Forever - Pierce the Veil – lack of communication anyone? I don’t know, do we know anyone like that? If anything should happen to me I want you to know, I’ve loved you since ever…

Here we are If anything should happen to me I want you to know I've loved you since ever since then Don't dance around me I know what it means No communication, cannot be received But I'm such a sucker for the rain, yeah Oh, here we are Butterfly - Wearing Scars – the Butterfly/Angel parallel alone…go with it.

Seems we're alone We're fixated Just waiting for something As time goes by And when we're way up high We'll look back down with different eyes Let's take our time Awake this life So spread your wings And take my hand Tonight will be the end

With Grace - The Weight of Atlas

This place looks like hell to me I cast myself into the sea Picked up my conscience and left my disease I don't know, I don't know if I can make it through this storm Keep your eyes shut it will be okay. Will we make it out alive? Will we make it out alive. When all you have is hope I will be your anchor I know that I can let you down But I swear I'll pick up the pieces. And be reborn again I Always Wanted to Leave - The Plot In You

I guess it's a shame I'm so damn destructive And you're so reluctant to mean what you say The way you act so abused The things you confuse You know I always wanted to leave "Hello... You can sing, I'm here And I love you more than anyone or anything With all my heart."

Unsteady - X Ambassadors – just a stay parallel. Don’t leave, don’t let go. If you love me. Don’t let go. #I haz the sads.

Hold on to me 'Cause I'm a little unsteady If you love me Don't let go Bury Me Alive - Normandie – pick a line – ANY LINE!!!

I guess I'm not going to heaven now I got caught in the chase Now I'm falling from grace But I never stood a chance Could've given me a sign I'd be giving you blind obedience Mantra – Bring Me The Horizon Before the truth will set you free, it will piss you off Before you find a place to be, you're gonna lose the plot Too late to tell you now, one ear and right out the other one 'Cause all you ever do is chant the same old mantra Could I have your attention, please? It's time to tap into your tragedy Think you could use a new abuser Close your eyes and listen carefully Imagine you're stood on a beach Water gently lapping at your feet And now you're sinking, what were you thinking? That's all the time we have this week

Oh Lord - In This Moment – cutting any of this out was actually hard. Cas, my love, are you there?

Oh Lord won't you save me Save me from my soul Oh Lord won't you forgive me For I have lost control Oh Lord won't you tell me Am I the righteous or the damned? Oh Lord won't you please hear me Do I obey or do I command? Oh Lord please forgive me For what I'm about to do Oh Lord won't you believe me I'll burn in hell for you Oh Lord won't you teach me Teach me how to see Oh Lord tell me you love me Am I Lillith or am I Eve?

Bleeding is a Luxury - Atreyu

I’ve talked the talk, I've walked the walk, It's taken ten fucking years, For them to see I don't need their approval. I've paid the piper, I've stayed my course, Lived chomping at the bit. With only blood, sweat, and tears to adhere to- Take it for granted, Forsake the costs, Wear a big, shit-eating grin (with only blood, sweat, and tears to adhere to) Now bear the burden to chase your fate Grind your teeth 'til it fucking hurts So they can see I don't need their approval. Seize the day, Take your beatings, Lead the way, Or decay as you fall down... You fall down.

Would you Still be There - Of Mice & Men – wow, this song in full. All of it. I can’t.

If I could find the words, if I could shake the world, If I could turn back time would you still be there? I can't stop thinking about the way I left you sinking with no escape. Now there's no lifeline, no way to save. But maybe next time I won't throw it all away. Dislocated, I lie awake Suffocating in my mistakes. I lost my halo when I fell from grace, But maybe next time I won't throw it all away. I ask myself everyday... If I could find the words, if I could shake the world, If I could turn back time would you still be there? If I could find the words to say, If I could shake the world to break you down, Then would you still be there?

The Broken - 3 Doors Down

This is the call to the broken, the broken Take it from me. They don't care if you're lonely. As you can see, They don't care if you're scared. Your heart Is the only friend you have in this whole world. Don't start, Think you can do this yourself. I know what you're thinking. You say you're tired of keeping score, keeping score. Trust me, You're not the only one going through this. You see, I've been through this before, this before.

Wow, I Hate This Song - The Used – this one took a little imagination – hardest one so far – because it really is just about hating a song! So we’re HC’ing the Zepp track that reminds Dean most of Cas, post Empty.

Every time I hear the key I see you in the melody It never was a part of me Heart feels like it's being stabbed Kills me emotionally Dirty Little Secret - Bullet For My Valentine – let’s take this back to – take your pick…Leviathan!Cas, Godstiel, Casifer, any of the times that Cas did the wrong thing for the right reasons…and did not tell his boy.

There once was a time Where everything was just so perfect Now everything has changed And you've become a total stranger I've seen another side to you I never even knew existed Dirty little secrets, dirty little secrets Giving in to your primal instincts There once was a time When anything I do is for you But everything has changed And I've become a lonely prisoner I'd kill, even die for you You never even tried resisting

Kill Plan - Parabelle

I'm sitting stunned just like a lesson I never learned Made of emotions and mistakes And what you say Leaves me lost and in the way And that's the place you stay Remember silence Now we're painted into corners So we can watch the world get sold out Hold me closer don't let the sun in Hold me closer don't let the sun in Cuz the setting sun feels like a cage Don't let me defend the kill plan

Roman Sky – Avenged Sevenfold – This song only has a few lyrics, but we can definitely make them work.

As the embers rose through the Roman Sky Tell me, were you calm when they took your life? Just before you go, tell us how the heavens flow Weightless evermore, as you walk beyond that door Shine forever true To Those Left Behind – blessthefall – these boys might be my favourite band ever, but these are ANGRY lyrics – these are about betrayal. This is a relationship gone wrong. I feel these best work with the divorce arc, the Angry Dean that we see, or Dean’s mood after any of the “Cas fucked up again” moments. You found me at my worst When I was far too weak to grow In spite of all my fears And how I may have lost my way Only now I know the truth

Awake and coming clean

If you can't sleep It's your conscience That's eating away At the mess you made So let's end this Sew this last stitch Lift this weight off my chest I'll put you to rest The past should stay dead

How did we find ourselves here? Haunted by our own design With everything that's come to pass Makes it harder to confine

#supernatural #destiel #dean #cas #spotify #song challenge #i challenge you to do the same #can you also connect dots?#why was this so EASY #I guess 12 years of pining helped #so much possible material to draw on #look I was bored and music is my thing #this is dumb but it was also really kind of fun #I love these two idiots

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jooneggs · 4 years

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MIDNIGHT MENAGERIE 1/3) - KNJ

❀ Word count: 8.7k

❀ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

❀ SUMMARY: Like water, cradling your fragile soul, Namjoon has held the lily of your heart all your life and you wish you could let him know just how much that means to you. Coincidentally, it just so happens you can: in a week's time when you're stuck in the holiday of your life at Namjoon's father's Botanical gardens. Will you finally get to repay him in a bed of roses or will he be the one to make the bouquet for you?

❀ Genre/AU: f2l, fluff, angst, smut

❀ Rating: 18+

❀ Warnings: Sexual tension (if you use a magnifying glass), Brief anxiety attack, Brief mention of past trauma/sexual assault (I’ve starred this bit between two ❀’s if you need to skip).

❀ A/N: I got back from my writing slump and i’m here with part one that took lots more time and effort than i expected haha! Writers block had me in its clutches but i’m here, and i really hope you enjoy the new chapter of this Joon Series! And a shout out to @jamaisjoons for letting me be a part of this project *blows kisses*

❀

They say that on the longest nights of spring you can see it. When the dark frames the stars in tenebrous black and the halo of the moon umbers the shallow of the sky. When the flowers bloom in a thicket down old country lanes and the ground softens for idle footsteps. Just beyond its fleecy hedges and dew-damp grass, framed by the large body of an antique greenhouse it can all be seen: two lovers in an embrace as beautiful and age-old as the wrinkled love-lines on their palms.

❀

It’s 7am.

And it’s a Sunday.

You find that during the times you need it most, comfort is in a suitcase and has taken the next flight south.

Feet strewn out from the duvet and palms placed flat to the bed, you find yourself with the sudden urge to breathe. Dormant around you, your room is dark and the distant sounds of birds can be heard outside. Thoughts are wild in your head, uncaged and hitting at your skull to escape. You find them moving to your windpipe and toying with your ability to take in the right amount of air you physically need to breathe right now. Whenever this happens, it’s like the cold of the outside has come indoors and made its bed in your chest. It’s like all the muscles in your body are working against you. This feeling has lasted for over three years now, or what feels like your whole life. It happens suddenly and unexpectedly, at times when you’re low or even when you're at your happiest. A gust of wind will fill the air and instantly, you're trapped again.

Reaching for the blinds, you pull yourself up against the headrest and attempt to let some sunlight and air into the room. You wrap your fingers around the beads of the pull and gently tug as light streams across the floor of your room and slowly climbs the walls. You ball your eyes shut as the exposure blinds you and almost hiss at the sudden change of atmosphere in the room. Although now incredibly bright, you still feel your hands shaking and lungs wheeze as you curl yourself further against the wall, commanding yourself to stay calm.

You feel your body reach this state whenever you consciously or unconsciously muster up thoughts of the past. Thoughts regarding negative experiences: failed friendships, attempted friendships, unrequited loves, unwanted advances from desperate, hungry, grease-slicked hands..

You don't want to have to go through this so often. To face the threat of feeling an inch of your being escape you each day. You want to be held, caressed and healed. You want to be bundled up into a blanket of another body only to disappear into them and their world and to never return again.

Sucking in another breath of air, you fish for the bottle of water on your side cabinet. With such restless, anxious hands, you find the task incredibly hard and end up having to get out of bed to reach for the bottle now face forward on the floor, dribbling onto the carpet.

Hands and feet now damp and jittery, you attempt to salvage the remaining drops of water in the bottle before draping the duvet back over you, right up to your shoulders, and nestling against the wall like a caterpillar to its cocoon.

You think about taking deep breaths, and rubbing your hands to conduct heat. You also think about all the terrible, horrible things that lay wake in your past. You don't want to think about these things, you want to find your way out of this panic. Negative thoughts as pungent as these don't tend to want to go away as quickly as the others do.

You've learnt to let the thoughts linger, accept their presence, acknowledge them and deal with them one by one. It isn’t an easy task and it’s not a quick one either. It’s like rationalizing your derationalized thoughts into specific moments of your life that really hurt to think about. It’s worth it when someone like your therapist is helping you out, but when it’s just you on your own, it feels impossible knowing where to start. One of the best things you’ve found recently, is morphing your fear into tiredness and letting your anxiousness send you to sleep. It sounds like the opposite of something that anxiety should do, but by the time you’ve exhausted your mental and physical capacity, you feel ready to sleep for a thousand years or more.

So with minimal effort, and the sudden feeling of aching bones and a sore throat, you tip yourself back into bed. And when you close your eyes, it takes all the effort in the world to push back all those thoughts telling you to stay up and worry and bleed yourself raw. But against the odds, you do it. You do it like clockwork because this is like a routine to you, one that means you can never fully relax in the wake of losing a part of yourself all over again.

❀

Sunlight is like the lighthouse that finds you stranded on the shore and wakes you from your sleep. It pulls you from the deep water and onto the warm speckles of sand. You’ve woken up.

In many ways, you feel like you’ve never been asleep. Your throat still stings and you haven’t forgotten the feeling of being unable to breathe. It’s like sleep is the short term solution to an everlasting problem that can take a backseat for your slumber but pop back up ten-fold as soon as you wake. And even then, it won’t be long before the problem starts to probe into your dreams. You feel like that’s already started to happen. A thin husk of memory tells you that your last dream definitely was a nightmare and that you’ve been haunted by monsters and dream figures chasing you for a while.

Things seem much better when you aren’t in the shell of your room or the realm of your sleep. Since your later teenage years, you found much more comfort staying in or near the outdoors, sometimes surrounded by your parents, sometimes calmed by your cats. It was a shame because your room to you was your haven, a slice of heaven covered in all the things that you loved. And you still love it, you just feel a slight weight in its presence, one that the outdoors helps brush away.

You stretch your feet and rub your chest, relieved to find yourself breathing normally again. Twisting in your bed, you wrestle a teddy off the side and move to head toward the door. Wetting your feet on the rug still damp from your spilled water, you trudge toward the end of the room and swing open the door from its hinges before walking across to the kitchen.

On a quiet 9am Sunday morning, you want nothing more than to bury your troubles in tea and a book. Your school week has once again ended, culminating in the beginning of a spring break. It has also meant your parents leaving on the next train they could out of your hometown and into the city.

Since the dawning of time - or rather the first waking moment you could remember - you had lived in the countryside. The air was a fresh lavender breeze, the sky at night blew out stars like blaring bulbs and the ground beneath always felt like it was rooting itself back to you. They say ‘the grass is always greener’, and many times you had almost fooled for it: believing that life in the city would bring you the freedom you really wanted from your parents, the joy from true love you lacked. You thought it would change the cycle of your life, like all those terrible moments that had happened to you could have been avoided if it weren’t for the sanctuary of suburbia. Like the knowledge you would have known there, would have protected you from all the devils of this world.

You sometimes felt you didn’t know enough, That Tolkien and Carroll weren’t enough to shape your knowledge into experiences otherwise faced by children of the city. That you were strange, the odd one out because you hadn’t had the life you felt a lot had been living. At 12 there were no first relationships, at 16 no proms, at 18 no parties, at 20 certainly no lovemaking. Had you been living falsely? Was your clone-self fulfilling your wishes out in the world without your knowledge?

These feelings were occurrences that hit you when you were down; crept up on you when you least expected it. But most times, you knew better. You knew your life was good and that the only feeling you were missing out on was feeling complete in regards to that. You could see it in the way your parents walked when they’d return from weekends in the city: shoulders slightly slumped, breath laboured, legs an entanglement of walking on thick tar or marble stairs. You could see it in the way the blare your box TV made you feel whenever you seldom switched it on or the way street cars or school kids made you feel whenever you stumbled to the edge of the green belt on the cusp of the town.

It was a feeling that reminded you that you loved the countryside. That whatever you had missed out on, you only had to gain by the joy you felt living in this little world of your own. That whatever you faced, were facing, or yet to face, would be outweighed by the positives that surrounded you each and every day.

With a lighter note to your step, you made your way to the kettle and took it to the tap. Filling it with water, you latch it back on to its base and switch it on. Today was a green tea day, the fresh scent of leaves and the warm yet bitter taste of vegetal flora. You pop a bag of it into a bottomless white mug and wait for the kettle to chime.

Every spring break since your early teenage years was one you had looked forward to. That, and the addition of any single break you got away from working and learning. You loved the time away to pursue what you really loved most and to feel as if you had all the time in the world.

Most of all, you loved being with your friends.

You couldn’t forget that what had made your experience in the country so beautiful and thriving was the people you had around you. Without them, you’d have no experiences at all, let alone the knowledge to make things like the cup of tea you were brewing right now. All of them had taught you different things and given you different opportunities and adventures. All seven of them being boys, you missed their brotherly presence and the feeling of really belonging when you were beside them. In fact, you hoped today, with feeling more solemn and tired, they’d magically sense your sadness and start the spring break with you.

Fishing the bag from your mug, you stir the tea and bring it out to the front garden. Closing the door gently behind you, you move onto the patio and sit against the wall of your house, brushing against a rose bush climbing its walls to the drain pipe of the roof. Setting your mug on the cold of the ground. You turn to your left and push at the floor of the patio, skimming your nails against the brick edge of one of the tiles. With quick effort, the brick slides to the side and you lean forward to peer into the shallow of ground dug out below. Under this small tile of your garden was a small collection of books you were currently reading. You prized your books, but never bought them new without their own wear-and-tear. Keeping them underground would only further the process of their weathering, so any books you bought were second hand from the local market or given as a gift from one of your friends who was a book-worm.

Reaching down, you close your eyes and pick a random book of the day. Sliding back the tile, you flick through the browning pages to the dog-eared bookmark of where you last were and start to read. It’s no fun just reading one book at once. You love to pursue multiple lives and experiences at one time as well as critique books on what one lacks and the other makes up for. If given the opportunity to do so, why not take the bull by the horns and charge into multiple universes with adventurous intentions?

With an open mind, you continue to read, your intention to fall into this book for at least a few hours before resurfacing back to reality. You find time slipping further with each crease of a new page. Your tea growing colder as you take small, yet thoughtful sips, popping the mug back onto the tile and rubbing your leg in reflection. What brings a story to an end? What is it that causes the binding to fold shut? Is it that a character can finally be content with the way things are; is it that their pain has finally ended and now the stage of their acceptance begins? You’ve always hoped that books would carve out your path for you, would give you the knowledge you needed to move on, or bring a charming fantasy character to you without you lifting a finger. You wanted to know what it was that you were searching for, that comfort that could just be right in front of you..

You turn a page.

“Y/N!”

“Namjoon?!”

You look up, and see him. Dropping your book back into your lap, you wrestle with your hands and move the hair from your eyes.

He’s staring back at you, intent on grabbing all of your attention. His umber eyes shine against the afternoon light and his flushed lips grin a lopsided smile. Sun-kissed, tawny skin and a button-nose - he is a vision - and you forget how hard it is to maintain eye contact with him for too long until your staring right back and squinting at his beauty.

His eyes drop down to your book and move back up, glowing with his usual sense of admiration and approval.

“Reading another one this time?”

“Yeah..” You mumbled “Well I've started this one already but i took a break from it and picked it out today in a random draw. But it’s pretty good so far so i’m not really fussed. I think I might even pursue this one fully to the end. No breaks..cool, right?”

“What one is it?” He responds, pulling the cover up into his eye line and taking it into his hands.

“You should know by the cover. Go on. Guess.”

“I’m not that good..”

“Hey! You were the one who lent me the book!”

“Probably because I've never gotten the chance to read it..”

“You recommended it to me!”

He squints and observes both sides of the book, careful to not peer at the binding with the title on. You watch with a strange enthusiasm as you yet again share a bonding moment with him over something you feel not many cherish anymore. It’s good to have common interests with others, yet the more you divulge in them, the deeper you fall into that person.

“It’s Doctor Zhivago by...Boris..Pasternak?” He smiles “But translated right? I can’t remember the man’s name..”

“You mean ‘name’s’. Hayward and Harari. Bit of a tongue twister. It’s so good.”

“That book was the most complicated thing.”

“But romantic.” You whisper.

“What was that?” He tilts his head.

“I said it..it’s romantic.”

“Oh..” He blushed “Yeah it’s very well written. Right..”

❀

Sometimes you guessed that ‘that’ was the thing you were missing. When you lay awake in bed at night, or felt yourself losing breath in the bundle of a blanket; in the morning, spilling a frozen mug of tea, or at night, clutching onto one of the books he had given you. Your friends had given you everything you needed, helped you in different ways, and sometimes you didn’t know how to repay them. You were reminded that you were enough, that what you did by just being you was enough to keep all of them smiling. Your friends had given you everything, but more than ever, right now, recently, one person had been taking over all of your thoughts, all of your friendships.

Here he was standing in front of you. And yet again you maintain normal conversation. You avert your eyes to intense stares, you keep from slipping on your tongue. Your hands stay in your lap, and your fingers ache to touch his. It was something you thought of often, yet something that remained at the back of your mind. Like a dirty secret, you didn’t want this longing to ruin the broken bridges you’d connected from your past that had taken you so long to build.

But moments like these, when he smiled too bright, or let his cheeks tinge pink in the presence of you without even trying to hide it..you knew you were so damn screwed.

❀

“y/n?”

You snapped from your thinking “Yeah, huh?!”

“Thinking again?”

“Yeah. Sorry..”

He smiled, exposing those beautiful dimples “It’s okay. I was wondering if you wanted to pop into mine and grab some more new books to read once you’ve finished that one?”

“That actually sounds great. I think the spring break will give me more time to read some of your favourites.”

“Awesome. C’mon then.” He reached out his hand to pull you up onto your feet and take you next door to his house. Like a burning crush, you touch his hand and feel a small fire come to life in your stomach. It was a common occurrence and one you still hadn’t managed to learn how to extinguish. Rather it had become a feeling you blamed on too much herbal tea or lack of sleep.

Deep down, the small fire was telling you that its existence was most likely due to ‘him’.

You follow Namjoon next door, across the small valley of your front garden and into his. He was tall, masking the view ahead of you, and his broad shoulders stretched the expanse of the garden gate as he idly swung it open. In a metaphor, he was a large, wise-old tree. You had envied him ever since your young teenage years and were unlikely to ever feel superior, let alone on the same level as him.

❀

As your neighbour, Namjoon moved in when you were 11. Living your whole life in the same house out in the country, bothered only by the rising sound of birds, you’d yet to have a neighbour that wasn’t five times the age of you. It was a new experience, and happened to come at the most confusing and inconvenient age of your life where you were like a magnet to anyone of the same age and opposite gender. Alongside your other six male school friends you had happened to befriend, moving up to secondary school, you found he was soon to become your 7th. Like your other friends, he was kind, charming and open from the moment you made your first greeting. You all found interest in the hobbies of adventure and play and reveled in the fact that your fantasy world was now one to share with many others.

Growing up as a human was weird enough at 11: weird bodily changes, voice-deepening, and a sudden strong romantic attraction to others. Your friends and you thought it was funny, speaking at lengths only to crack off tune or bopping Adam's apples like a game of tennis while you sat there and touched at the flat plain of your female neck. At times you’d play twister and fall apart at the sudden growth of each other's legs and how it would up the difficulty of the game without you even trying. Other times you’d stare at the faces across from you and wonder what the soft blades of their cheeks would feel like to touch.

You thought that was bad enough, but at 19 it had hit you like a brick and was only getting worse.

❀

“You had a bad night?”

You look up as he turns around by the door of his house and nod, “Yeah..something like that i guess..”

“You can tell me about it.” He pauses and brushes his fingers against the tips of yours - and there goes that fire in the pit of my stomach again..

“It’s okay. It was just a bit of an anxiety attack. It came on unprovoked, no reason, no big deal.”

“As long as you're sure.”

He stares into the pits of your soul with that intent and interest in his eyes again, and you simply nod and smile.

“Alright, let’s go find a new book to cheer us up. I’ve got this amazing one i found at last weeks market, you won’t believe the coloured edgism on it!”

❀

A few hours had passed and you and Namjoon had gone through dozens of his books, discussing why each and every one was a merit to read. You found his bookshelf harbored all sorts of genres, but favoured writers such as Murakami and Hesse. It truly was a sight to behold: a 16-shelf, 7-foot mahogany cupboard of prismatic-colour in the form of disjointed stack upon stack of novels. It was like a second home to you; one for the books, and two for the person who lived there.

“So you’ve chosen?..” Namjoon tilts his head, looking up from his spot kneeling on the floor.

“Ah..i’m really not sure.”

“Go on.” He sniggers, “I'll do a drum roll.”

“Okay. So. I’m choosing ‘A Wild Sheep Chase’..aaand, ‘The White Book’!”

“Those are amazing! Hold on, show me the covers again.”

You move from your position leaning against the bookshelf, and kneel next to him, arm brushing against the cotton of his. He seems to respond to this, and shuffles closer, knee knocking yours as he moves to see the covers of the books more clearly.

Although he’s silent, you feel his acknowledgement and study of the novels before him as he remembers their plots and summarizes his critiques against them. Knowing him for so long, you can almost feel the cogs in his brain working and you struggle to hold back a smile as you imagine him feeling the same way about you.

*ding, dong*

In a sudden halt, the door rings, and the two of you separate as quickly as you came together to head towards the entrance. A silent awareness slips between the two of you regarding the past few hours you’d spent scrolling through books together. This was something friends did, right?

“Hey, lovebirds!” You hear a deep voice chime and peer from the side of Namjoon to see the other six of your friends standing out on the patio in a huddle. Taehyung stands centre of the pack, beaming with his box-grin as if he’d just opened the gift of his life. You peel back behind Namjoon nervously and wave back to them, making yourself known, watching a smile deepen on all of their faces as they glance back and forth between the two of you.

You know what it must look like, but you’d hoped they’d be used to it by now. The older you got, the more time you divided towards Namjoon compared to the rest of the boys and you never gave an explanation for it, leaving an air of question between you and the others. At this point, you weren’t surprised by their assumptions. You simply went along with it, hoping one day their words would manifest themselves into tangible things.

“Hi guys. How’s the beginning of Spring Break treating you?” Namjoon smiles, fiddling with the books now in his hands.

“It’s going well. We were enjoying the sun and nearly forgot about you guys.” Jimin replies, a sly wink directed your way.

“C’mon now, what do you want?” You smile.

“Come to the hideout with us.” Jungkook chimes, scrunching his nose, “Let’s make some plans and get stuff done!”

❀

It was a mossy road, filled with scattered piles of leaves, hulking rocks and long, giant-like cutlasses of grass. Trees decorate the rim of the trail, large oaks and fuzzy maples. The flowers surrounding you crowd in, tickling your feet, shining a blistering yellow onto your chin. The sun above flares and your neck swelters as you trail behind the seven boys.

The path to your secret hideout was never an easy one to make. Beautiful but not easy. In the past eight years of being friends, the nature surrounding your home and further out had reared its wild and boisterous head, making its mark with swollen muddy ditches and overgrown thickets of grass. You frequented it often, making the trek in under half an hour with flimsy boots, often exhausted from the school day. Sometimes you’d visit in the mornings by yourself, shuffling around chairs and cleaning up crumb-riddled plates from the last visit there; other times you’d head over in the evening and nap on the ground with your head in one of the boys laps as you mumbled incoherently about some classmate or teacher.

Your hideout was a camper van, plastered white, now chalky flakes. Its interior was large and had been hollowed out into two large rooms of a dusty kitchen and bedroom/living area via the drivers door. As you approached it, a sense of nostalgia filled you, memories rushing in chromatic frames of adventures played out within the confines of those few feet. Although overgrown, the ground beneath you still felt as pliant and kind as the first day you set foot.

You come to a halt as Taehyung steps forward and swings the loose driver door open, bowing in a way too childlike not to smile

“Ladies and gentleman, your accommodation for the day. Step right up, step right up.”

Following the boys, you find Taehyung waiting with the door open and you nod in return, climbing up, sliding across the driver's seat and landing in the main space of the van. Grabbing the nearest seat, you press yourself up against the backrest and kick off your shoes, feeling a sting evolve then dissipate around the clutches of your ankles. It’s not long before Namjoon joins you to your right, and Yoongi sits idly to your left. Jungkook, Taehyung and Jimin form a small triangle in the centre of the room and Jin and Hoseok move over to the kitchen to presumably look for snacks. You wiggle your toes and smile at the boys around you. The past few hours had made the morning feel like a distant memory and you, yet again, made a note in your brain that reminded you how important these guys were to your mental stability.

“Jellied eels and gummy worms!” Hoseok cheers, bouncing into the room alongside Jin with two large packets in tow.

“Eels?..” Namjoon mouths next to you.

“Worms?” Yoongi resounds.

“They’re gummy sweets guys! Did you even have a childhood or did your life only just begin when you met me?” Jin smirks, throwing himself on an armchair opposite you and leaning over to grab a can of soda from the seat underneath him.

“My life began when I started eating these sweets.” Hoseok hums, a gummy worm dangling from the creases of his lips.

“Let’s have one!” Whines Jungkook, and pulls Hoseok down to share the sweets out with everyone in the room, nodding at Jin to join along and share his cans of soda too.

❀

You met the boys halfway through your Primary Education, age 11. Being a socially distant and independent child, you had struggled to befriend anyone the past few years and were blissfully ready to roll through yet another year alone. You hadn't known any different, and expected you were better off not having friends. There were certain days however, when an unfamiliar sense of loneliness would strike you and you’d struggle all the next week in school.

Moving up to the next grade required an induction into the class. It was inevitable that part of the induction would include ‘ice-breakers’. Playing hide-and-seek and musical-chairs didn’t seem productive or fairly educational, but it helped you spot your tribe from the rest. You had found that, moving into a different set in a different year had meant everyone in class was new to you. It was exciting, but it made you feel yet again like a tiny fish in a giant pond.

It wasn’t long before six boys, during a particularly boisterous game of dodge ball, had come to your side to make a wall around you and pellet balls back at the opposing team. You were lost for words, but stayed planted as you watched them continue to protect you and even smile back occasionally with ease. After the game, following onto lunch, they invited you to sit with them at their table. They individually introduced themselves, stretching out hands to shake with yours before moving back to demolishing their lunches. Although unfamiliar for you, you felt comfortable around these boys, and it wasn’t long before you felt secure to approach their table on rough days and simply slump straight down into your chair.

Jin, Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Yoongi and Hoseok had met the first day of the grade you were starting. You’d almost known them as long as they had known each other; the boys meeting by coincidence at the local convenience store to buy evening snacks a few days before they had met you during the dodge ball game. A band of misfits, as disinterested in cliques and gossip as you were, it made sense that you stuck together for the rest of your primary and secondary education.

Jin was the first for you to have a full interaction with. On a late autumn finish from school, just after the ‘razzle-dazzle fair’, Jin had ran up to as you were exiting the school gates and offered to walk you home. You had been friends for a month now and Jin admitted that he lived quite close to you and would be more than happy to take you to your house. You had agreed, and in the short 20 minute walk home, you had been able to laugh and socialize more than you had ever done before. Jin was the eldest of the group and a social spark. Alongside Taehyung, he often led the group's conversations and was unapologetically unabashed regarding his strong looks and vibrant personality. It was refreshing to see and often annoyed the group at times where they all wanted silence, yet could still hear Jin nattering away behind them. After a few years knowing and maturing with Jin, you could see the layer underneath his visage that was insecure and ashamed. It was something you saw in yourself, yet you made no qualms regarding the way you held yourself in very low regards. As an only child, Jin was like an older brother to you; always the one to continue to walk you home when the others couldn’t. Even up to the age you were now.

You next spent time individually with Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung. With Jin, Hoseok and Yoongi out on a school trip one day, the other three were desperate to get out and made a pact with you to go out nature foraging at the end of the school day. You all kept your promise, and on a foggy October, you made your way out into the stretch of hills where you lived only to discover the abandoned camper van you now sat in. Aside from an empty fridge, and musky air, the van’s interior was the same and you spent the whole evening dusting it out and running around, planning different ways in which you could now brand this vehicle as the groups own. The three of them were the most youthful and bonded to each other like glue. On future nights in the camper van, you’d sit outside to catch a breath, only to spot them swinging their legs off the roof, clanging the sides with their feet and giggling to each other. Other times you’d wake up in your sleeping bag and wriggle over to hear three soft snores as they practically piled atop one another like little caterpillars. Jungkook was the youngest of the group, and truly the sweetest. He enjoyed physical contact, and playing with your hair including the way you’d hug him back after he’d had a long day. Although close, the boys weren’t always around to protect each other, and you’d found yourself in many situations, standing up for him as he was bullied by older kids or others who simply envied his ability to be good at practically everything. Jimin, at times, had also found himself being picked on, but unlike Jungkook, could stand up for himself and sassily retort back. Jimin was a cuddle bug and enjoyed poking fun at your lack of ability to stay still during a shoulder massage without becoming ticklish. He loved showing you new routines he’d learnt taking ballet class in the city, and often shared his experience of the bright lights, making you fear them even more. Taehyung was the same in regards to his songwriting and desperate need to learn guitar or piano but never being able to pick between the two. Taehyung was soft-spoken and euphonious in tone, and was the first to help you study for your music test, age 16, in hopes your voice would be up to parr for the grades you wanted.

Soon after the other four boys- nearing Christmas - you had met up with Hoseok. He’d taken up a job as a newspaper boy and had started doing rounds on your street. When cycling past your door, he’d seen you reading on your patio out front and asked if you wanted to join him on his rounds by hopping on the back of his bike and holding on very tightly. Like a Ghibli character, you joined him, and felt the wind and his contagious laugh whip at your hair as you raced from street to street, paper in hand. Hoseok was the blistering, smiling sun of the group. He was the one to supply the snacks during group meetups and the hand to drag you towards your next adventure. As you got older, and your past had started to further distill itself into you, he had been there to listen and to give you that serotonin when you needed it.

Yoongi was the last to fully introduce himself. You’d bumped into him at the annual Christmas Market and shaken off the snow that was starting to pale on your cheeks and nose. He’d felt bad that you had attended the market alone, but you had assured him that your parents were just around the corner and had let you run loose. He’d taken your woolly mitten hand and pulled you around the stalls of warm chestnuts and wood-carved geese, gums and teeth gelled into a smile the whole time. Yoongi was never one to flaunt his emotions, or smile when he didn’t need to. You felt special because he reserved all his excitement and joy for the group, hiding that side of himself from his schoolmates as if he were a stoic block of pure ice. He didn’t like to admit it, but he was protective over you: watching you mature and watching boys ogle you, hitting back out at them, saying you were nobody's object but your own. He was one of the few who taught you how to own your pride and to stand up for yourself when you needed to.

It was the 5th of January the next year when Namjoon entered the class; four months into your friendship with the boys. Namjoon was a transfer student from the city nearby and had moved schools to better accommodate his parents, now fully divulged in the industry of agriculture. At 5 feet, he stood awkwardly, his lanky form swamped in a cardigan, tie and trousers, a small badge of a book crested to his right. He bowed as he introduced himself and shuffled toward the back window seat of the class, eyes to the floor the entire lesson and entire day until dismissed for the day with the rest of his raucous classmates. A week later, he had found himself paired in a science group project with the six of you and had struggled not to look up as Jin poured his packet of mentos into a bottle of coke and watched it stream over a miserable Yoongi. It wasn’t hard then to feel a part of the mischief as he banded to the rest of you in the principal's office and subsequently joined you on a walk over to your secret hideout, officially knighted a group member after witnessing and accepting Jin’s disorderly act in front of the entire class.

Namjoon became the group's glue: a peace-maker and divulger in clumsy behaviour, the middle man in acts of rebellion and acts of peace. He would settle any argument entailing stolen food and encourage any efforts to liven the mood. Around the rest of you, he made no secret of feeling like an outsider all his life and, as you grew older, you only found more and more stories of his you could relate yourself to. Namjoon made sense to you. He didn’t always tolerate the group's behaviour, or understand his peers, but he understood and accepted you and you often found that that was enough.

But you stumbled on your soda as you felt his presence beside you in the camper van. Something had been missing. A lingering need for his legs to reside an inch closer, or his forehead to skim the crest of yours. A want for his voice to your ear like an ungodly prayer or his lips to plant a halo on your own.

The way you had matured had only made it worse, not better. You had hoped you simply harbored a strong interest in his psyche, but the older you grew, the less you could ignore the fire that never left your stomach. Looking over at all the boys now, it was obvious that you’d never forget. In seven long years, they had all grown and the blaze in your gut was a whore to be sated.

Thick limbs in tight shorts and muscles rippling under skin, their physiques had swelled from boys into men and your eyes were traitors. No longer the deviants of school-youth, their gluttony was peaking, something that grew at lengths in their trousers and peaks on their chests. The testosterone was tangible and its thick air was making it impossible to ignore your attraction toward Namjoon.

But whether you could handle the possible rejection or sudden acceptance of love was another ordeal. Could your past ever be healed by the vines of attraction, or were you too scared to ever let another person in again?

❀

A few hours later and you were in the small kitchen, playing with dust bunnies and watching the sun sink down the hills. The boys were still in the main room, talking about their plans for the spring break. You could hear them discussing family vacations and trips to visit friends in the city. They were buzzing about expanding the camper van and joking about making it into a bachelor pad for their new-found love lifes. You listen in, but hear no noise from Namjoon in the conversation. It had felt like, as the years had passed, the boys were moving forward, finding new hobbies and friends and succeeding at becoming adults. You saw the joy in their eyes at their success and you were proud of them, but you knew Namjoon and you were lagging behind.

All these years, Namjoon hadn’t found any new friends, he hadn’t moved out to the city to discover something new, he’d just grown in height. Of course he’d matured, mind and body and become even more undeniably magnetic, but - like you - he also wondered where his life would go. It was a silent thing you seldom mentioned but knew you shared. It was during those nights when he’d tell you his fears and the little life he dreamed of, running a bookshop and flower garden with the one he loved that you knew you wanted to be that part of his story.

Turning from the window, you walk back into the other room to join the boys. Namjoon looks up and sidles over to make space for you to sit between him and Hoseok. You kneel against the soft burgundy rug of the floor and feel Namjoon move closer to you as he closes the circle, his hand nudging yours to check if you are okay. You look up, meet his soft eyes and smile, reassuring him that your thoughts and feelings are at least somewhat intact and he drops your gaze, turning back to the boys to listen in to their conversation.

“So..the bachelor pad would have a super king bed?” Yoongi questions.

“I think a super king is a bit too optimistic for this space, maybe just a double.” Taehyung chimes.

“Not if we add a conservatory extension to the end of the van.” Jimin mumbles.

“Listen, i think this conversation is getting a little bit too authentic. This is just an idea guys, don’t lose your heads.” Yoongi responds.

“Well..when i reap the benefits of my entrepreneurial enterprise, i’ll give you some cash for this little startup of ours.” Jin laughs, slapping the knees of Jimin and Taehyung who clearly seem to be the fuel to this idea.

You chuckle and gather your knees underneath you to cross your legs, “I love your ingenuity, but I want no part of this idea. I’m afraid, i’m out”

“Our startup’s doomed then.” Jimin wails “Every group needs a lady to orchestrate the rest of us, otherwise we’ll just run a riot.”

“He’s right you know.” Namjoon whispers, “I think you’d make a great CEO..”

His tone is easily distracting and you falter for a second before laughing off his words, “Thanks guys. In that case, give me 50% of the company and we have a deal!”

“Just shake her hand Jimin.” Yoongi whines and gets to his feet, “Alright guys, I’m beat. I’ll grab the sleeping bags; who put them away last?”

“The far left cupboard in the kitchen!” Jungkook says, and you turn to watch as Yoongi begins to draw out the long sleeping sacks from the cupboard and drag them through the room to where you’re seated. You tilt your head in question to Namjoon as Yoongi returns with the second lot of bags, unaware you were staying overnight with all of them.

He perks up and, making the connection to your thoughts, starts with a comment to the boys, “Hey, who let y/n know? Or did you all forget to tell her?”

“You know we’ve left all that kind of stuff to you nowadays.” Taehyung smirks, yet again sending a knowing wink your way.

Namjoon sighs, “So, while you were playing with dust-bunnies out there, we were planning to stay the night. I’m sorry i didn’t let you know, the conversation just drifted on and i got a bit distracted..”

“That’s okay..”

“Is it? Are you up for sleeping over with us?” Jungkook smiles.

You feel a sudden knot in your throat. ”Y-yeah, I..um..”

“It’s alright if you have plans, there’s no pressure to stay with us!”

The wedge in your throat tightens and you struggle to hide the tide of panic that you feel is approaching you. The boys seem to notice your sudden change in demeanour and they all stop, Yoongi dropping his bag and kneeling down with you to make sure you’re okay.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright, what’s going through your head?” He asks, Namjoon suddenly a rock beside you.

“I - “ Visions come swarming through your mind, too sudden and harsh to ignore.

*❀

You hadn’t slept over with the guys for a few years, not since your exams had ramped up their intensity and started to steal all of your time. Back then, you had less thoughts of your past, and lived life with more ease, thinking of the future and not dwelling on previous experiences that were desperate to hold you back. Yes, you were still nervous at times, falling asleep amongst a group of men and trusting them to guard you, but you were a lot less anxiety-riddled then you were now.

In the past two years, your childhood had come flooding back to you in thicker and more residual pieces than before. Moments you thought you’d forget, or that your friends would help heal were now naked shadows, following you around day and night. You were scared it was only going to get worse, the images of non-consensual acts filling your mind and your body, exposed to all of them.

It was hard because - sitting here now - you loved your friends, and you wanted to trust them, but the wall of trauma that had built itself around you seemed too impossible to break in just one go. Even though you knew they weren’t going to harm you, your mind couldn’t stop from seeing a man and a dark room and going, ‘No. I need to escape’.

You’d opened up to them in the past, and briefly told them a more closeted overview of what had happened to you. They had listened, and of course sheltered you in their concern and love. They wanted you to feel like you didn’t have to be afraid around them. And it took a while to even just let them hug you or squish beside you on a group movie night in. They’d give you all the time you needed, and you’d be patient as they understood and exercised the boundaries around you that they firmly respected.

*❀

“I’m sorry, I..I just had a moment.” You exhale, the fog now waning in your mind. The boys watch you steadily and you feel Yoongi and Namjoon have since moved back in distance to give you the physical space you need.

“We’d all really love you to join us! We’ve missed out on so much time since our exams have started and we really miss our sleepovers.” Jin smiles, and you nod back, breathing another shaky exhale and beginning to play with your hands.

Noticing your discomfort, Namjoon turns round and silently hushes the boys out of the room momentarily. They seem to pick up on his gestural hints and, one-by-one, move out of the room into the now pink half-light of the outdoors.

He shuffles to sit facing you and adjusts his eye-line to meet yours as you slowly look up from the floor. His tawny eyes shed all the colours of sunset and he frowns as he notices the panic knitted in your features.

“I know what this is about, and i want to let you know that you don’t have to be afraid. I don’t know what it’s like to be in your shoes or the fear you must be feeling right now, but the least i can do is let you know that here, with us, in my presence, we will cloak and protect you.”

He adjusts his position on the floor and leans over to clasp at your hand. Heart in your throat, you open up the love lines on your palm to him and lace your fingers with his. You suddenly feel a fire burn and a dread douse all at the same time in your stomach. He is the one that makes you truly feel safe, and now your head is swarming with the essence that is him.

You were never one to pick favourites, take one friend for granted, or to even have friends, but Namjoon had always been the exception to those rules. He would always stay a little longer, listen a little closer, and it just made you want him a little more.

He was the one who gave you your first romance novel, helped you grow your first ever rose, taught you how to Waltz on your tip-toes atop the highest hill of your village. Even when the past would rare its lethal mane and roar, you knew that Namjoon would be a pillar to fall back on.

“Okay, Joon.” You whisper, the seldom used nickname slipping from your lips and casting dimples all over his cheeks.

❀

An hour later and the boys had been summoned back. They were scattered in a circle around the main room floor, half of them balled into their sleeping bags like squirrels in hibernation. The air was cooler and the sky now a tenebrous brown, small stars floating in the sky like lost astronauts. You took a sharp breath and felt the cool of the twilight wind sweep through your body. Your eyelids felt heavy and you felt almost certain that now was the right time to fall asleep. The day, since the morning, had recovered itself, and everything seemed too tranquil and good to be true. Without wanting to ruin it, you were ready to say goodnight to the moon and reflect on what a good time you’d had before a new day.

“Mmh, goodnight moon. Sleep tight.” You mumble and lean back, pulling your body into the cocoon of your insulated bag. You adjust your sleep shorts, and turn onto your side, tucking strands of loose hair behind your ears before closing your eyes.

“Are you going now?” You hear a voice ask.

You slip one eye open to see Namjoon, now turned toward you, doe eyed and pouty. A lazy smile tugs at your lips, “Not if you don’t want me to..”

“It-it’s not that.” He blushes, “I just wanted to make sure you were feeling comfortable..”

“I am. Thank you for talking with me earlier.”

“You should be thanking yourself. You’re the one who’s so fearless all the time.”

“Am i really that good at hiding it?”

“You’re stronger than you know.”

“I’ll keep a note of that under the list of ‘compliments Namjoon has given me’.”

He smirks, “Want a few more to add to that list?” and you feel your cheeks stain pink.

“Maybe another day Joon.” You quickly switch the subject and twist around, “Goodnight.”

“Y/n, wait.”

You turn back to him, “What is it?”

“I. I didn’t have many plans for Spring Break but i'm visiting my father and i was wondering if..maybe you’d want to come with me?..”

“To visit your father?” You question, wondering how on earth you’d be able to contribute to conversation with Namjoon’s father, let alone not look like ‘the girlfriend’ to him.

“It’s not what you think. My dad has an amazing botanical garden outside his house that stretches acres across. I thought, if you didn’t have any plans, you’d want to study the flowers with me and spend some more time in nature.”

You're amazed with his thoughtfulness, a reminder that Namjoon’s split parents now owned a menagerie and a farm, the first belonging to his father. Aside from catching up with the group and reviving certain sparks that had faltered, you were more than open to spending all of your time in Namjoon’s presence. You imagined picking Azelia’s with him and brushing cobwebs from daffodils. You pictured long, warm evenings amongst a patch of lavender and early mornings, tilting buttercups under your chin until they shone a luminous yellow. It sounded too much fun to even fathom, and you had to bite your tongue from sounding to sudden or enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. You just resound -

“That sounds nice. I’d be happy to go.”

And with that, you feel another chapter of your life unravel underneath your feet.

❀

#jamaisjoons summer collab #tsb 2020 collab #btswriterscollective #ficswithluv #bts fic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #kim namjoon #namjoonxreader #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n

132 notes · View notes

dracusfyre · 3 years

Note

Number 22. Of the 50 Kisses prompt list

YOOOOO this was the first time I’ve ever had someone ask me for one of these prompt lists, thank you @zola9612! Hope you enjoy this :D

(also on AO3)

~~~~~

Tony sighed wistfully and looked out over the moonlit ocean, listening to the muted crashing of the waves hitting the cliffside. He was sitting on a pile of rocks at the base of the cliff, close enough that he could feel the spray. The night was clear and crisp, the stars bright despite the regular sweeping beam of Tony’s lighthouse at the top of the cliff. The wind was strong and steady from the east, and Tony could smell the hint of a storm out over the water.

“When will my lover come home from the war?” He mourned loudly, plucking petals from the rose in his hand and casting them into the water. “It has been nigh-“ he checked his phone “-thirty-seven hours and forty-two minutes since I seen him last. I fear that I might soon forget his face and be tempted to love ano-shit!”

Even though he had been semi-expecting it, the cold, wet hand that wrapped around his ankle and pulled him off his perch into the frigid water was a surprise. He laughed, knowing that Bucky could feel the vibrations of his amusement through the water, and found Bucky’s lips with his own. Bucky’s hands tangled in Tony’s hair as they kissed, mouth hot; Tony could taste the salt of the ocean and a wildness that was all Bucky, and it never failed to thrill Tony to his bones. Under the water it was dark, too dark for even Tony’s eyes to see, and all sound was muffled, and there were no smells but the sea, so the only thing that Tony could sense the feel of Bucky against him, under his hands and against his mouth. He stroked firmly down Bucky’s sides, gripping his fins and feeling the muscles move under Bucky’s skin as he kept them steady in the water. He felt more than heard Bucky’s groan, vibrating through his chest, and he bit lightly at Bucky’s lips to get more of a taste of him on his tongue. They didn’t normally get frisky like this under the water – after all, Tony had a lovely large bed with soft sheets and dark curtains to keep out the sunlight back at the lighthouse – but apparently Bucky was in the mood, hands plucking urgently at Tony’s clothes to get at the skin underneath. Tony wrapped his legs around Bucky’s waist as he pulled away from Bucky’s mouth just long enough to wrestle his shirt over his head, and then they jerked apart in surprise as they felt something plunge into the water right next to them.

He heard Bucky’s instinctive, startled cry of alarm and tried to see what was happening, but all he could see was the rapidly disappearing reflection of moonlight off the bubbles streaming through the dark water. He felt the woosh of water as Bucky swam after who- or whatever it was, and kicked his way to the surface to wait for him, raking his hair away from his face as he treaded water and cursed his lack of natural buoyancy. But it was only a couple of minutes before Bucky’s head broke the water with is cargo in tow.

“What the hell?” Tony said. It was a person. Some stupid idiot had jumped into the ocean in the middle of the night in late October; it was a miracle that he wasn’t already getting hypothermia. And it was a stranger, to boot – Tony knew everyone in the tiny town that was closest to the lighthouse, and he’d remember seeing a man this good-looking and brain-dead. “Did you just jump into the water? For God’s sake, why?”

“I s-saw you fall in, and you didn’t c-come up,” the man said, shivering but surprisingly lucid given how cold he must be.

“For Christ’s sake,” Tony started, but Bucky cut him off.

“Let’s get him warmed up, then curse him out,” Bucky said, and as Tony made his way back to the rocks and picked his way around the base of the cliffs towards the trail up to the lighthouse Bucky started towards the pebbled beach with the man in tow.

“I can swim,” Tony heard the man protest, and smiled when he heard Bucky’s click of disgust.

“Shut up,” Bucky said crossly, and Tony knew he was pissed that this guy had interrupted his plans. He all but tossed the stranger onto the beach, and that was when Tony noticed that the man was naked.

“Hey!” Tony called out. “Why are you naked? Where are your clothes?” But he wasn’t sure that the man heard him, because he was staring at Bucky as he laboriously pulled himself onto shore with his arms and great big heaves of his tail. As graceful as Bucky was under the water, he was as ungainly out of it, at least until he was far enough on dry land to trigger his transformation. Tony, of course, had never seen him transform in the day, but at night it was lovely – moonlight shone slick on his skin as the water streamed down it, then there was a soft pearlescent glow and when it faded, Bucky looked like any other man, if more muscular than most. But now he was just as naked as the stranger, which left Tony feeling overdressed and somewhat bedraggled with his wet hair and dripping clothes. “Fuck it,” Tony muttered, and kicked his own clothes off as well, stopping only to grab his phone in its waterproof case out of his pocket then leaving everything else on the rocks to gather later. Other than Bucky and now this guy, Tony had never seen another living being out on this finger of land that jutted out into the ocean, connected to the mainland by a ribbon of land so narrow that it didn’t even have a proper road on it and it disappeared in particularly high tides.

“Are you not human either?” The man exclaimed as Tony approached.

Tony shared a glance with Bucky, who was pulling his long hair away from his face and tying it up with a hair band he kept around his wrist for just that purpose. “Well…” Tony hedged, then he stopped and scowled. “Wait, what do you mean, either?” The man looked alarmed as Tony came closer and leaned in; underneath the salty, fishy smell of the ocean, he caught a trace of – “You’re a werewolf?”

“Maybe we should talk inside,” Bucky suggested again, and Tony led the way up the trail to the lighthouse, hitting the lights as he went inside. Towels always hung by the door, and as they all dried off Tony studied the newcomer. The man’s hair was dark now, but he could tell that it would dry to a burnished gold, and he had a thick beard that emphasized his strong jaw and framed a full mouth. Now that they were standing on level ground, Tony could tell that he was tall, barely taller than Bucky, and his body was just as thickly muscled. Bucky caught him staring and raised an eyebrow with amusement as Tony just shrugged and smiled.

Tony tossed Bucky his clothes from the back of the couch, then went into the bedroom to grab a pair of pants and something for the stranger to wear. “My name is Tony,” he said as he handed the man a pair of Bucky’s old shorts. “And to answer your question from earlier, no, I’m not human. I’m a vampire.”

The man had the grace to look chagrined that he had jumped into an ice-cold ocean to save a vampire from drowning. “I’m Steve. I’m sorry for barging in on you both, I just was exploring the area when I caught your scent, then I saw you go into the water-“

“It’s fine, you couldn’t have known,” Tony said, waving off Steve’s apology. He gestured for Steve to take a seat and hit the button for the coffee pot, the one human habit he hadn’t been able to kick even after all these years. “This is Bucky, and you might have noticed that he’s mer.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Steve said, and Tony glanced over to see that the man’s face was suspiciously red as he looked at Bucky. This time it was Tony’s turn to smirk as Bucky studied Steve with equal interest, his previous hostility draining away at the potential to get to know someone new and exciting.

“I’ve never met a were before,” Bucky said. He scratched his chin as if he actually wanted to be running his fingers through Steve’s beard, and Tony could sympathize. Bucky’s face was as hairless as his body, in and out of the water, and Tony had lost the ability to grow a beard like that when he turned. “What brings you to the area?”

“I just got out of the military, and needed some time to clear my head, so I took some time off to roam. Oh shit! I’ve got a bag with my stuff in it, I dropped it near the cliffs.” He half-stood as if he was going to go retrieve it right this second, but Tony stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s safe for now, I’ll get it for you. Are you hungry? Bucky keeps us well stocked with seafood,” Tony offered, perching on the edge of the armchair where Bucky was sitting as the coffee maker burbled and hissed.

“No, please, I don’t want to put you to any trouble,” Steve said. “I’ve already imposed enough. I should get going.” He shuffled his feet a little but made no move to get up, and Tony suppressed a gleeful smile as he met Bucky’s eyes again.

“You should stay,” Bucky said as if on cue, curling his feet up underneath him in the chair. “What, were you planning to get a hotel room or something? You’d rather stay with humans?”

“Well, no,” Steve admitted. “I’ve mostly been sticking to the woods and only going into towns when I had a craving for a hot meal.”

Tony had to laugh at that, because that was also pretty much the only reason why Tony had ever gone into towns, at least until he’d met Bucky and didn’t have to leave the lighthouse to feed anymore. “Well, we aren’t the best chefs but we can make a hot meal, and we’ve got a spare bed if you want it. If you need to feel useful, I’m sure we can find something for you to do around here.”

“Okay,” Steve said after a moment, nodding. “If you’re sure.”

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brentwatchesmovies · 3 years

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Brent’s Top 10 Movies of 2019

Scorsese is probably my favorite living filmmaker, but I’ll be honest, when I heard that Scorsese was making this movie, and *how* he was making it (heavily digital de-aged actors) I was a bit skeptical. De Niro and Pacino haven’t been turning in interesting performances in quite awhile, and Pesci came out of a decades-long retirement for the movie as well. On top of that, the first trailer released did little for me. All that to say I was an idiot to doubt the master.

Scorsese returns to the crime genre that he re-invented many times over the years, this time with the eyes of a man in his 70’s, looking back on his life and career. The movie is very long, but in my opinion, it needs the length. The viewer needs to *feel* the totality of a life, and as is his intent with The Irishman, the *consequences* of this specific life. The final hour or so of this movie feels like a culmination of Scorsese’s career in many ways. The energy and entertainment of a crime/mob epic, with the fatalism and philosophical leanings of a movie like ‘Silence’. It’s a 3.5 hour movie that I’ve already rewatched, and actively want to again, so that alone ought to speak volumes.

Harmony Korine made one of my favorite movies of the 2010’s, the neon-soaked and often misunderstood ‘Spring Breakers’, so I was already in the bag for whatever he did next. When I heard it was a freewheeling stoner comedy where Matthew Mcconaughey plays a guy named ‘Moondog’ costarring Snoop Dogg, I reserved its location on my top 10 list.

This movie doesn’t have the empty heart at its core that defines Spring Breakers, opting instead for a character study about a ‘Florida man’ poet after his life pretty much falls apart. It’s basically plotless, stumbling from one insane, borderline hallucinatory sequence to the next, but I just loved living in the world of this movie. Beach Bum almost feels like a deliriously fun VR simulation of hanging out with Matt McConaughey and his weirdo friends down in the Florida keys. This is one that probably won’t pop up on many top 10 lists but I really adore, and will surely rewatch it a dozen times in the years to come.

Let the record show, I’ve been a huge fan of Bong Joon-ho since I first saw his monster movie/family drama ‘The Host’. Some time later, he went on to make ‘Snowpiercer’, one of my favorite movies of the last decade. All that to say, I think Parasite is probably his best movie, and a true masterwork of thriller direction. It also has his usual brand of social commentary and a script filled with darkness and humor, following a South Korean tendency to juggle multiple tones throughout, sometimes all in one moment or scene.

Parasite also follows a big 2019 trend of commenting on class and social dynamics between the rich and the poor. I think that’s part of why it’s done incredibly well at the box office (especially for a Korean language film), the fact that people can relate in a huge way, regardless of which country your from. Parasite is one of the most entertaining movie viewing experiences I’ve had this year and I’d recommend everyone check it out.

If you were to ask me what the funnest movie-going experience I had in 2019 was, I’d have to pick Rian Johnson’s ‘Knives Out’. Hot off making one of the best Star Wars movies ever made (don’t @ me) Johnson decided to make a passion project in the vein of classic Agatha Christie style murder mysteries, and the results are a total blast. Filled with clever twists and turns, weaponizing the structure of murder-mysteries against the audiences expectations, it stays one step ahead of you the entire time.

Aside from the clever mystery of it all, it’s the actors performances and chemistry that really sell this thing. Jamie Lee Curtis and Toni Collette are expectedly great per usual, and Daniel Craig is having the time of his life as Mississippi private-eye Benoit Blanc, but the heart of the movie is relative newcomer Ana de Armas. She brings an emotional weight and anchor to the movie that always keeps you emotionally invested amidst the terrible, money hungry backstabbing by the other heightened characters. I hope everyone sees this movie and Johnson is able to give us another Benoit Blanc adventure somewhere down the line, I’ll be there opening day.

Nobody makes an upbeat, feel-good movie like Ari Aster does! After last years light and breezy ‘Hereditary’ (which I liked a lot but didn’t totally love) he’s back with a completely riveting and emotionally draining (not to mention horrific) masterpiece. What I connected to most in Midsommar is the journey of Dani, played incredibly by Florence Pugh. The way the film portrays the relationship between her and her dog shit boyfriend played by the (usually) charming Jack Reynor keeps you invested in every twist, perfectly paced out over the movies admittedly long runtime.

I won’t get into spoiler territory, but where this movie goes in the end is what makes this a fully 5-star movie for me. After putting you through hell, like Aster loves to do with bells on, Midsommar ends in a euphoric, psychedelic orgy of music and violence that I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Midsommar rules so hard and I can’t wait for whatever twisted thing Aster cooks up next.

One of my increasingly favorite brands of movies is a finely crafted, primo slice of dad-movie cinema, and James Mangold has made one with Ford v Ferrari. The story chronicles the partnership of ex-racer and designer Carroll Shelby and racer Ken Miles as they work to make a Ford that can compete in the 24 hour race of Le Mans. Bale and Damon are a blast to watch bounce off each other and the race sequences are pretty damn thrilling, combining (what I expect is) a solid amount of great VFX with practical racing to great effect.

I also didn’t expect it to have as much to say about the struggle to create something special by passionate people and not committees while also inside the very machine that churns out products on an assembly line. Just a random note, this original movie was just put out by 20th Century Fox, now owned by Disney but that’s completely unrelated and I’m not sure why I’d even bring that up??? Anyway, I love this movie and dads, moms and everybody else should check it out.

If you saw my list last year, then it must appear like I’m some diehard Mr. Rogers fan. I don’t really have many memories watching his show as a child, but what the documentary ‘Won’t You be my Neighbor’ and this film by Marielle Heller have in common is a shared fascination of his immense empathy and character. It’s only right that America’s dad Tom Hanks should play him, and I was surprised at the end that I was able to get over his stardom and accept him as Rogers. He’s not doing a direct impersonation, and I think it’s all the better for it, instead opting for matching his soft tone and laid back movements.

On a pure emotional level, this movie was a freight train. It didn’t help that the movie covers a lot of father stuff, from losing your own to becoming one yourself (2 big boxes on the Brent bingo card). Heller’s direction is clever in its weaponizing of meta/post-modern techniques, such as one incredible fourth wall break in a diner scene. It literally breaks down the barrier between Mr. Rogers, we the audience, and the films intent to make us feel something.

I cry a lot at movies, that much is well known, but it’s rare that a movie makes me weep, and this one did. Even thinking about scenes right now, days later, my eyes are welling up with tears thinking about the messages of the movie. Mr. Rogers and his lessons of empathy and emotional understanding have rarely been as vital and important as they are right now in our world.

Robert Eggers first film ‘The Witch’ from 2015 is one of my favorite movies of this decade, possibly of all time, so my hype for his black and white, period piece two-hander ‘The Lighthouse’ was through the roof. Even with sky-high expectations, it still blew me away. With dialogue reminiscent of The Witch in its specific authenticity to its era, to the two lead actors giving all-time great performances, It was one of the most entertaining film viewing experiences I had this year.

There’s something about both of Egger’s movies that I really keyed into watching this one: his fascination with shame and the liberation from it. Where Witch was from the female perspective, Lighthouse literally has two farting, drunk men in a giant phallic symbol fighting for dominance. It’s less a horror film than his first, but still utterly engrossing, demented and specific to his singular vision. I can’t wait to see 20 more movies from this guy.

This is another big movie of 2019, like The Irishman, where you can see the director looking inward, at what his films mean and represent. It initially caught me so off guard that I really didn’t know how to feel about it, but after seeing it again, it’s one of my favorites of the year, and probably Tarantino’s filmography overall. More akin to something like Boogie Nights or Dazed and Confused, letting us live with and follow a small group of characters, it mostly doesn’t feel like a Tarantino movie (until the inevitable and shocking explosion of violence in the third act, of course).

‘Hollywood’ is the most sincere and loving movie Tarantino has made, interested in giving us a send off to an era of Hollywood and artists that have been lost or forgotten (Some more tragically than others). In the end, the movie functions similarly to ‘Inglorious Basterds’ in it’s rewriting of history to give us catharsis. “If only things could have worked out this way.” Luckily in movies, removed from the restrictions of reality, they can. And once upon a time in Hollywood, they did.

Uncut Gems probably tripled my blood pressure by the time the credits rolled. A slice-of-life story about a gambler/dealer in New York’s diamond district, the movie follows Howard Ratner, played by Adam Sandler in easily the best performance of his career. Ratner is basically addicted to living at the edge of a cliff, being chased by violent debt collectors, juggling a home life and a relationship with an employee, and fully relying on risky sports bets to stay afloat. It makes for a consistently tense and unique viewing experience, expertly directed by the Safdie brothers.

Something that might not work for everyone but that I personally loved, is the chaotic way in which the movie is shot. What feels like loosely directed scenes, with characters talking over each other and multiple conversations happening at once, adds an authenticity and reality lacking from most other movies. It’s more adjacent to Linklater (thanks to Adam for the comparison) or Scorsese’s earlier films (also fitting, that he’s a producer on this). Following Howard Ratner as his life descends into chaotic hell was one of the best times I’ve had watching a movie this year.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

AVENGERS ENDGAME

DOLEMITE IS MY NAME

BOOKSMART

JOHN WICK CHAPTER 3

THE FAREWELL

AD ASTRA

#top 10 #movies #2019 #top 10 movies #midsommar #uncut gems #the irishman #martin scorsese

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therealjammy · 3 years

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The End of the Line

AN: I’m just adding to the pain train. Don’t mind me. This is also an excuse to work out the hellish week I’ve had. Also, please forgive the mistakes, I stayed up way too late trying to finish this and edited all 4,100-something words in half an hour.

Heavy angst ahead. I’m so sorry

1. Excerpt from Nazim Hikmet’s poem “Before time runs out, my rose...”

Read it on Ao3, too: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27555409

------------

There comes a point in time when one realizes their own weight. It hits suddenly, like an unexpected wave when one is swimming in the middle of the ocean, and they realize the series of events leading to the wave are all in a perfect line. But how to stay afloat, wonders the swimmer, when your life preserver might go down with you? When you’re tired of fighting against the waves?

You’ve been floating for ages, the seas calm, but lately the waves have become choppy, and what were once clear skies are now cloud-filled. And the fog… That fog is thick and it’ll just keep getting thicker, until you can’t even see what’s in front of you. And if there is a lighthouse—which you’re certain there is, on some days—the light comes in and out of focus, a candle getting brighter and then dimmer in a breeze. The light, of course, being Jamie. Always Jamie. Your lighthouse. Your anchor. Your poor, burdened anchor, who looks as tired as you feel.

The guilt hits you when she comes home, opening the door with a long sigh, tossing her purse onto the couch. You notice the dark half-moons underneath her eyes, the result of staying up with you in the middle of the night when you’d woken from a night terror. If you close your eyes, you can still see the monochrome of it, some beautiful, long-haired woman hovering over you, face screwed up in effort, a strong, damp hand clamped over your mouth and nose.

“How’s it goin’, Poppins?” Jamie asks.

Papers are spread on the round kitchen table, accompanied by accounting books and expenses receipts. You remember, suddenly, you’d said you’d have the work done by the time Jamie got home. There’s more than half still to do, and a long pencil line disrupts the muted colors in the accounting book. You shake your head to clear the fog. “It’s uh… I’m sorry. It’s not done. I…”

“‘S all right. Shit takes time, doesn’t it?”

“Not this much.”

“There’s always tomorrow.” Her hand settles on your shoulder, warm from the early autumn sun she’d walked in. “Take a break. Help me decide what to do for dinner. My head’s empty.”

You hum. Lean your head against her forearm. Her skin is warm underneath your cheek. She smells like lilies and soil and berry hand soap. “Okay,” you murmur.

There’s a drawer in the kitchen, just below the knife holder, that bears an abysmal amount of takeout menus. Some are from tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurants that are no longer open that neither of you felt like tossing out. Others are from restaurants you frequent. Appetite being what it is, nothing calls loud enough for you to hear, so you pull one at random and hand it over.

“Right,” says Jamie, giving it a glance. “Chinese it is.”

You eat dinner on the parlor floor, small boxes of fried rice and noodles and various flavors of chicken spread between you, chopsticks clicking to each other. Jamie is a pro with them now. You’d had to teach her how to use them. It was at a sushi restaurant in San Francisco, a name you can’t remember, but you recall the distinctly Asian décor and Jamie’s sighs of frustration.

“I’m too fuckin’ white for this, Poppins,” she said. “Better off with a fork.”

“You’re holding it wrong,” you said, smiling. You took the top stick from her hand and set it aside, allowing her to focus only on the bottom one. “Hold this one like a pencil. Mm-hmm.” You picked up the other one. “Keep it like that. Now, let this one rest on top of those two fingers, and use your index finger to pinch it to the other one.” She did. “Just like that.” You helped her snag a salmon roll between them, but she did the work of bringing it to her mouth.

You can’t remember when it’d finally clicked for her. Only that it had.

Jamie cracks open the fortune cookies. Passes one to you.

“If it’s a bad one,” she says, “I’m burnin’ it.” She takes a bite of the cookie first. You’d told her, once again in California, that it would bring bad luck if she didn’t. Jamie reads, “Let your heart give away its biggest secret today.” She sighs. “Well shit.”

Yours says, “A very bright future is ahead of you.” You laugh. Not with amusement. Just at the irony. You flick the small piece of paper away into the shadows. It lands with a soft click. You ask softly, “Is yours wrong, too?”

“No,” Jamie says. “It’s bang on.” A mask of nervousness descends upon her face, but you notice the nuances of excitement, too. “I was thinkin’… We could get the paperwork this week. Fill it out, have someone witness the signing… I mean, it’ll take a bit for the official certificate to come in, but…” She trails off, both giddiness and nervousness dancing on her features and in her gestures.

“We’ll celebrate,” she continues, hands clasping yours. “Splurge on a fancy bottle of wine. Somethin’ vintage.”

You like her dreams. They’re big and grand, a painting waiting to be seen in a gallery.

“And we’ll call Owen. He’ll shout on the other end of the line, I’m sure.”

The image pulls a smile from your lips. “It’s wonderful.” You lean to kiss her. The Lady, blissfully, is silent, tucked into some corner or other, claws retracted, dozing. You feel Jamie’s touch on your face. The soft press of her mouth against yours. Had this been earlier, much earlier, when you were more wholly yourself, you would’ve pulled her into you until you were both sprawled on the rug and made love there, boxes be damned, until, with much effort, you rose on unsteady legs to clean up and stumble to the bedroom, where it might continue. But you are fading like ink in water, and there is no pull of desire.

“Oi,” Jamie whispers, holding your face between gentle hands, “what’s the face?”

You shake your head. “I… can’t give you what you want.”

“You think it matters?”

“It should.”

“I’ll tell you a secret, Poppins,” she says. “Sex is like dessert. Somethin’ you want and can have. Or choose not to have. There’s a reason it’s had last.” A tear falls warmly onto your cheek. She catches it with the pad of her thumb, wiping it smoothly away. “It’s the main course that’s most important.” She kisses your forehead. “Sweets come in other forms.”

Like gestures. Like little kisses she gives you in passing, or a touch that lingers.

Sleep comes easier that night, with her reminder. With her soft warmth and flannel shirt that’s gone soft from the many washes it’s had. The only dream is a string of bubbles rising to a freshly disturbed surface, obscuring two figures standing on a shore you can’t see. Like they’re floating.

—

You go into work less and less. You do what you can from home: filling out orders in the book, writing in the specific details, filing paperwork and doing accounting. It is an altogether different weight, sometimes overwhelming. And the less you go into work, the more you find yourself getting lost in your own head, thinking of water and pale hands and feeling a simmering impatience. The drifting happens in the oddest of moments—in the middle of discussing an arrangement, or going over the different types of flowers that would suit the mood for an engagement party, or in the middle of the most mundane things. Cleaning the house. Preparing an edible dinner. Plucking the drain in the bath.

No, you think, but the thought dissolves. You feel her stirring. Waking again to find herself still trapped. You barely hear the front door open, the thunk of Jamie’s purse as it lands on the loveseat, the clop, clop of her boots, the closing of your bedroom door so she can change into house clothes.

The Lady’s reflection appears in the faucet.

You stare at each other.

Sounds from the bedroom float to your ear. The squeaking of the bedframe as Jamie’s weight settles on it. A few seconds of silence followed by a sigh, and another, heavier one.

Once, moons ago now, on a day you had felt the Lady’s weight more prominently than you had since leaving Bly, Jamie came home while you worked on the books, diligently adding up the expenses by hand with paper and pencil. Your mind drifted until there was a strange, silent bubble surrounding you. You were barely aware of the bedroom door closing, of the sounds that happened shortly afterwards. At least until telling sighs reached your ears and told you she was not, in fact, changing out of her work clothes.

The bubble gone, you sat and listened, everything sharp, a familiar knot tying itself in the pit of your stomach. It was quiet, what she was doing, but not quiet enough; you stood just as you heard her breathing pause.

You opened the bedroom door. She was a silhouette in the late evening light, trembling on the heels of a first, intense orgasm, gasping from both it and surprise. It took you three strides to stand over her.

“Dani,” Jamie breathed, “I’m sorry—”

You cut her off with a kiss. The interruption was a pleasant surprise, and the mood that filled you was one you were glad for. You felt like yourself, in moments like these; you could just be Dani and Jamie, not Dani with the Lady crawling under your skin and pulling you back into the fog.

She wrapped you in her arms, even as you worked her already unbuttoned jeans from her hips, even when you slid down to follow your hands with your mouth, keeping the pace slow so as not to overwhelm her. Still, she didn’t last long, already taut from the wake of the first, your name tumbling from her mouth in an ecstasy-filled whisper, the sounds thereafter muted inside her hand. You cursed the thin walls of the apartment and people’s irritating nosiness.

“Christ,” Jamie sighed when you came back up to kiss her.

“Hmm,” you said, smiling a little now. “Thank you for the interruption.”

“Workin’ out some frustrations?”

“You could say that.” You brushed a few strands of hair away from her eyes. “Our business isn’t cheap.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” She kissed you softly, cupped your face tenderly between her hands. “Want anything?” she murmured.

“Just you,” you said, helping her fumble with the button on your jeans so she could slip her hand between its sides.

You do not go to her.

You hear her come, a string of stilted curses and harsh, stuttering breaths, but it is far away, on some shore you cannot reach. There is only the empty tub and the silver faucet, in whose face is the Lady. All stringy, wet hair and pristine white dress. Faceless.

Jamie will wash her hands at the kitchen sink. Pat her damp face and neck dry with the dish towel from the stove. Attempt to make dinner, thinking you’re still freshening up, only coming in when she realizes you’re taking an awfully long time, or when she needs your rescue.

However much you want to, you find you cannot move. Even though you’re cold. You stay as if glued to the spot, knees pulled against your chest, chin resting on them, staring at the woman who is not you.

If I reach out, you wonder, tilting your head to the side, will I feel you? Will you feel like metal or will you feel like mud…?

“Dani?”

You gasp. Your hand falls back to your knee.

“Hey.” She wraps a fresh towel around your shoulders. “Been here a while, huh?”

The Lady isn’t in the silver face. You see you, damp hair falling around your shoulders, expression that of someone washing up on shore and surprised to find they haven’t drowned. “A little while,” you say. “Is dinner…?”

“I’ve got it started, at least. Haven’t had pasta primavera in a bit.”

“Last time you made it, it was a wreck.”

Jamie smiles. “It was, wasn’t it?” She adjusts the towel, dabs at a few lingering water spots on your cheek. “Let’s get you outta here, cold girl.”

Warm dinner smells fill the apartment. Bell peppers and squash and zucchini, all tossed in a skillet with bowtie pasta. Wine accompanies the dish, a red you’d gotten from Owen when you’d gone to Paris to announce your engagement. Jamie lights a plain white candle and sets it in the middle of the table.

“Thank you,” you tell her. “It’s good.”

“Didn’t set off the smoke alarm this time,” Jamie says. “It’s an improvement.”

Despite how good it is, you can only stand a few bites and a few sips of wine. You pass your plate to Jamie, who clears it, bringing back a memory of the warm kitchen at Bly, Hannah and Owen at the sink, Jamie picking over what Flora and Miles left on their plates.

“Our human Hoover strikes again,” Hannah said. “Less work for us.”

“Not just good at gardenin’,” Jamie said. “I’m always happy to make less work for you.”

Later, you dry the dishes, keeping your back to the sink, averting your eyes from the plates’ shiny faces.

“I uh…” Jamie begins after a minute. “I could use your help with somethin’ tomorrow, if you’re up for it.”

“Hmm?”

“Just an arrangement. I need your expert eyes.”

The phrase brings a faint smile to your lips. Your eyes haven’t felt expert for a while. And what joy there was in assisting with arrangements feels almost forced. The emotion itself is muted, along with everything else. Yet you ask, “What flowers?”

“Roses. Simple enough.”

Jamie brings home Starbucks in the morning. Blonde roasts, with cream and sugar. Old habits, she says, as she hands your cup over. You think of the greenhouse after your first kiss. The warmth of the autumn sunlight filtering through the windows.

“You ready?” Jamie says.

“Yeah.”

The walk to The Leafling is only a few blocks. There’s a light breeze. It rustles the leaves on the oak trees, whispering through the branches. The sunlight is warm. The weather is a perfect mix of summer and autumn, but you think it isn’t you who is wholly absorbing it. The tempest of the Lady seems soothed by it, and when you walk by the market displaying the morning’s freshly picked apples, you see a field of green and a girl in a white dress sauntering after a man in clothes long out of fashion. The image disappears as soon as it had come, as brief as the scent of apples.

The shop opens at nine. There’s a little over an hour until then. Jamie uses it to go over the arrangement, wondering which flowers should be used to compliment the roses, whose color is as crimson as blood. She says the woman whom it’s for doesn’t want a stereotypical banquet of roses—stereotypical, in this case, meaning roses paired with baby’s breath, despite the combination being a classic—and Jamie rolls her eyes as she says it. “But in America, the customer’s always right,” she continues, “as much of a pain in my arse as it is.”

“Well…” You think for a moment. Baby’s breath is white. White and crimson are aesthetically pleasing when paired together. “What kind of tone does she want to set?”

“Somethin’ original. I know,” Jamie says, throwing up her hands at your puzzled look, “not very helpful. Please don’t shoot the messenger.”

You think for a minute. “We could try something smaller and… white. Daisies, maybe.”

Jamie nods. “All right.”

You hold the roses in a plastic sheet, telling Jamie where to place the daises so it’ll look the best. Two between the roses in front, and two between the three roses in the back. She’s careful not to touch either flower’s petals. She steps back to admire it from afar. This close to you, the roses are overly sweet, the smell cloying, reminding you of clothes stashed away, of how the petals were once used to mask the scent of death. Jamie’s mouth moves in the shape of Y’know, I think that is the least stereotypical thing we’ve made. Her smile is small, but proud and bright. You see it. All you can think of is a deathbed.

“You all right?” Jamie says. “Does it look wrong?”

You shake your head no.

Gently, she takes the banquet from you, setting the bunch carefully in an empty glass vase. “What’re you thinkin’, Dani?” she asks.

The words are soft when they leave you. “They smell like death.”

The mask of worry becomes darker on Jamie’s features, and you wonder, after you’ve told her, if she’ll think every flower in the shop reminds you of death. You hate the feeling coursing through your chest—worry that she won’t want you here, in the place you’d dreamed and built together, that she’ll want to hide the flowers for the sake of keeping you comfortable.

“That’s a new one,” she says quietly, and you nod in agreement. She sighs, gives the arrangement a quick once-over. “We can go with the daisies, then. It looks pretty. Romance and new beginnings.”

The banquet that had been the two of you once gets picked up later that morning by a man in his mid-thirties planning on proposing to his girlfriend. He’d looked happy, you think, sinking into darker thoughts, love making him punch-drunk. Their future stretched like a highway before them, time not a question on their minds but something infinite.

—

On a Sunday, when The Leafling is closed, you accompany Jamie to pick up the paperwork. Nervousness travels between you like electrodes. You feel it on the walk to the county clerk’s office (?), and inside it. You’re joined by other couples, all with the same goal in mind. It all feels odd. Not in a bad way, but in a surreal way. Time, it seems, has been as kind as it can, letting you get this far. But the cruelty lies in the unknown, in that dark space that asks, How much longer?

Your handwriting is not what it used to be. Neat cursive has turned into half-legible chicken scratch; next to Jamie’s curling print, it embarrasses you. Such a silly thing turns your cheeks into burning coals.

“Oi,” Jamie whispers, sensing as she always does, taking your hand in hers. “Least it’s not Russian cursive, yeah? Completely illegible.”

It gets a laugh. A soft one, but a laugh nonetheless.

“There we are,” Jamie says.

You get home and Jamie pulls a bottle of white wine from the liquor cabinet. A Gewürztraminer. The bottle is green, the label white.

“Where’d you get that one?” you ask.

Jamie pauses in pouring the first glass. “Napa Valley.”

“When…?”

“Three years ago.” She turns to the fridge and plucks a postcard down. Classic lettering, with NAPA VALLEY spread across the bottom. The picture is of acres of grapevines, with a large white building in the background.

“Livin’ here wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” Jamie said. A pale arm hung out the rented Land Rover’s window, whose view was of the rolling hills and the sharp bunches of grapevines. “We could get pricey wine whenever we wanted.”

“And wine drunk every night,” you said, leaning to kiss her cheek.

“Sure, Poppins, if you want a hellish hangover the next day.”

“God,” you say, this time covering your face with both your hands. “Ninety-seven. I…” The water’s coming in fast. Too fast.

Hands find your shoulders. “Dani,” Jamie says, her tone serious but soft, “it’s all right. It’s okay to forget things. Memory’s fallible.”

Fallible. It is. And everything else, too, if one wanted to get philosophical about it.

“Come on,” she says, leading you to the couch. “Let’s give the religious nuts a reason to complain further about us disturbin’ the Sabbath with our agenda.”

Jamie fetches a book from the small shelf in the room and carries her wineglass over. She propels you down until your head is lying in her lap, one hand tracing lines over the soft hair just above your ear. Exhaustion pulls at you. Your eyes drift closed as she flips through pages. Darkness fills them when she reads from a page.

Before time runs out, my rose,

before Paris is burned and destroyed,

before time runs out, my rose,

and my heart is still on its branch,

in this night of May on the quay we must sit

on the red barrels in front of the warehouses.

The canal across fades into darkness.

A barge is passing,

my rose, let’s say hello,

let’s say hello to the barge with the yellow cabin.

Is she on her way to Belgium or to Holland?

In the cabin door a woman with a white apron

is smiling sweetly.

Before time runs out, my rose,

before Paris is burned down and destroyed,

before the time runs out, my rose…

People of Paris, people of Paris,

You mustn’t let Paris be burned and destroyed…1

—

The call comes on a Tuesday. Jamie, detaching herself from the last of the dishes that need drying, turns business-like, posture stiffer, voice more professional.

“Clayton residence,” she says.

“Flora residence,” Flora said, attempting to sound adult but failing. “Hello?”

A pause.

“Speaking.”

Another.

“Oh.” Her tone is lighter. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

“What was it?” you say once she’s hung up.

There’s a large smile on Jamie’s face. “It’s the certificate.”

You smile, too, as much as you can. She captures it between her hands, pressing her forehead to yours. She says, “I’ll go. You stay. Find us something to celebrate with.”

“Oh…” You trail off. There’s plenty of wine in the liquor cabinet. And candles on a little iron shelf in the bathroom. An idea forms. “Sure you can trust me with that?” you ask.

“Definitely.”

She changes into something more appropriate while you light the candles. Pauses next to you to tell you she’ll be back. Kisses your hair. Says, “Keep those burnin’, yeah? And make room for two.”

Time slows while she’s gone. And despite the better day, the fog rolls in, filling your head while the tub fills with water, until you’re leaning, and the Lady is your shadow. You are dead to the world until Jamie, home again, shakes you away. The tub has overflown. Water pools on the tile, travelling over it and to the wood of the hallway. You didn’t realize, you say apologetically, to which she says water’s easy to clean up.

You ask if she sees her.

She says, “I only see you.”

You nearly collapse into the steadying arm she holds against your back. “I’m so tired, Jamie,” you tell her. And you are. You’ve been treading water too long. There is no anchor, except the one you cannot cling to anymore. No lighthouse. No life preserver. Jamie declines your words, firmly, fighting back tears. Shaking her head as if the very action will change the course of everything.

“No one’s going anywhere.”

But I’m sinking, you want to say. I’ve been sinking since I invited her in. I’ve been clinging to everything I could, and it still isn’t enough. You shake your head, too. “What if I’m here,” you whisper, “sitting next to you… but I’m just really her?”

“One day at a time,” Jamie answers. The age-old mantra.

—

There comes a point when one realizes their own weight. It isn’t so sudden anymore. You’ve become used to it. One day at a time. Treading water, still. Looking for the lighthouse. For the life preserver, finding her living, too, in shadows she won’t talk about. And still you go to her. You wrap your arms around her and rest your chin on her shoulder. Her familiar smell fills your nose. You want to confess everything into the soft skin of her neck, adding more to what you’d told her the night she’d come home announcing your union was civil, but it would be too much, right now. Too much weight for your Atlas to bear. You hold her as tightly as you dare, and you whisper, “I love you.”

She squeezes your hand. I know, it says. I always have.

You fall asleep with her beside you, your arm thrown over her, lightly gripping her favorite flannel shirt.

The Lady, awake again, brings you claws and teeth.

A dream of water. Jamie standing over it. An arm, clearly yours, breaking the surface and grabbing her, pulling her to the depths.

You wake with your hand reaching out for her neck.

You relax it. Knowing, now, it was high time to let the life preserver go.

#the haunting of bly manor #dani x jamie #now i'm gonna really go to bed but i just wanted to post this here for the tumblr crowd #it's on my ao3 too

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kryptolella · 4 years

Text

I chose them, instead of you (ep.9-10 fixed)

Raelle was sitting once again next to the window, this time not grieving for Scylla’s death, she got proof she was alive.

At least she wasn’t crazy when she saw the mark on her hand and she even got the chance to see her. Chance, was that the right word?

Of course not, she knew that they used her, to get information from the girl.

The worst part of all of this? Tally knew. She knew and she didn’t say anything, instead she went straight ahead to Anacostia and spilled the beans to her.

What should she do? Who should she trust?

They’re going to tell you horrible things about me.. All of them, please don’t believe everything they tell you.

Raelle knew better, she knew there was so much more. There must be a reason why Scylla joined the Spree, maybe it was because of her parents, she did tell her they died because of the military after all.

She looked at her unit sleeping, they finally went to sleep after the awful events of City Drop, but she couldn’t just close her eyes.

They didn’t only lose someone of their class, Raelle also killed an agent of the Spree who took Scylla’s face. In that moment she was so angry, people kept telling awful things about Scylla, she just didn’t know what to think anymore, she felt betrayed by everyone, she just had to let it all out and that person was the enemy after all, she shouldn’t be guilty about that, that’s war, that’s the military. And yet, she felt terrible.

She stood up and went to her cabinets and took out the charm she made for Scylla and looked at it carefully. She sighed and caressed it slowly.

“What should I do now? What are they going to do to her?” she asked herself. She felt a weight on her chest and wondered if it was finally her time, but then she felt wetness on her cheek. A tear fell slowly followed by a burning sensation in her throat, she tried to keep her sobs inside, she didn’t want to wake anyone up. She took her left hand and squeezed it, would she be able to contact Scylla or was it only a one-way street?

She just squeezed harder while staring aimless outside the window.

‘I’ll make it right, Scyl.’

The following morning after training the unit was drinking some tea together in the common area and once again Tally was speaking her truth on how unjust everything was. Raelle already knew that, that’s why she didn’t trust the military. They decided to go and talk to Petra, she didn’t seem to care that much about what happened with City Drop, collateral damage is always a part of war the same words Abigail said. Like mother like daughter, wasn’t that right?

That’s her chance.

“The base has been infiltrated. By the Spree” Or maybe she should have stayed quiet, but perhaps that was also a chance for her to be able to reach Scylla once again, she had to show she was on their side, especially right now, she had to put on a mask and be smart about all of this. Maybe it was indeed above her paygrade, but who cared? She needed to talk with Scylla, she needed explanations but most of all she needed to see her, look right into her eyes.

Nothing happened though, they went ahead with the day, memorial done and they kinda celebrated their friend. In all honesty, Raelle wasn’t that inclined to stay up and talk about Lybba, but at least she got to drink, so she drank all night and when everyone left to go to bed she once again found herself touching her left palm.

‘Scyl, give me a sign you’re ok, please..’

Another morning, another training, was all that the army? Would they go to a mission, kill and get killed and then act like nothing happened? Business as usual? They were just a number, they were just a means to an end, weren’t they?

Just like when she first arrived, here she was again thinking why she was wasting her time there. Despite everything that was happening she had to admit she had managed to have fun, she fell in love, she found friends, or at least she thought so.

“Collar. I need to speak with you.” Anacostia called her.

Raelle wasn’t her biggest fan right now, she knew she was just doing her job, but she tortured Scylla, she manipulated all of them.

“She’s been moved to military prison, asked to see you one more time. It’s likely she’ll never return.”

“That’s great. I’ll help you link with her.” There was the chance she had been waiting for.

“It’s not about linking with her, I think it could help Scylla, maybe even help you to see her.. Say goodbye.”

“Why do you want to help Scylla?” She had to ask her that, she hadn’t proven she was on Scylla’s side, and now she suddenly was? What kind of nonsense was that? “You know what? She’s dead to me.” and Raelle walked away.

She was suddenly pissed again at Anacostia and at the situation, why did everyone keep making decisions she didn’t understand? Why were they moving Scylla? Why would it be a goodbye? What the heck was happening?

She was overwhelmed with thoughts, feelings, she didn’t understand anything anymore.

She found herself in her room with Tally and Abigail asking her what happened. They tried to convince her to talk to Scylla.

Forever is long.

She had to focus, after all wasn’t that what she wanted? She did want to speak to Scylla, then why was she making it so hard on herself to do so? Was she afraid of what would happen? Of course she was, what if it was all a lie?

She needed answers, she needed to fix everything. She was such a fool.

She left to find Anacostia.

“Ok, bring me to her.” the Sergeant seemed glad about her request, was it for show or did she care for real about them? Raelle didn’t want to think about it right now.

They went to the holding cell where Scylla was kept in. Anacostia went inside first, Raelle heard her saying calm down to Scylla. What have they done to her? It’s been weeks since the wedding, she didn’t even want to imagine the tortures she went through. She remembered the collar she had on, the chains on her wrists and ankles, it was so mediaeval, why did they have to go to such extremes?

When Anacostia gave her the all clear she stepped inside. She felt like the ground crumbled beneath her feet, right in front of her there she was, her Scylla, with a surprise face staring back at her, quickly realising something.

“You believed everything they said about me.” it wasn’t a question. Raelle knew she was messing all up, but she suddenly felt all those doubts resurfacing once again, she was still hurting and she let her escape a terrible thing, which wasn’t true at all.

“I loved you.” she could almost hear Scylla’s heart breaking little by little as the minutes passed by.

“I still love you.” the girl replied firmly stating a fact that never changed for her.

“I know about Helen” while she could, Raelle wanted to have her answers, she just couldn’t hear one side of the story. “Have you done that to me before?”

“No! Never! I’ve messed up, there’s no excuse, I-I was scared.”

“Scared to lose your mark?” Raelle asked without thinking. All kinds of thoughts are racing in her mind.

“It started like that and you were...you, I fell for you. I promise. I promise I’m telling the truth.”

“Was anything real? Any of it?” She was so scared to ask that, what if the truth would hurt her so bad? What if it was all a damn sick plan. But Scylla answered quickly, probably sensing the urge in her voice to be reassured.

“All of it. Raelle, you have to believe me, I’ve nothing to gain by telling you this. They’re shipping me off to die.” Was that the truth? Was she really going to die? Wouldn’t she ever be able to see her again?

“Well, we all go sometime.” she would have slapped herself, ‘What the hell Raelle!? What are you doing!?’ “Why did you pick me?” That was it, the last question she has. Why was all of this happening to her, to them.

“Do you look like I’m calling the shots around here? They didn’t tell me why!”

“You know what? I get it, I get it, I was the sickest, weakest gazelle in the herd, I was an easy prey for you.” Now she was just frustrated with everything and everyone, not only she didn’t know, but neither did Scylla, they were being played. The both of them, by the Spree, by the Military.

“You have no idea how powerful you are.”

“I don’t feel powerful, I feel broken, thanks to you. I’m sorry we ever met Scyl.” She was sorry, because maybe if they’ve never met, neither one of them would have been in this position and would have been suffering. A part of her wanted to walk away and she started it but then she froze.

“I chose you! I had orders to deliver you, I chose you, instead of them, I chose you! please.” Scylla cried to her, her heart fully broken now, unable to reach her and losing all hope.

And just like that Raelle remembered the wedding, she remembered how Scylla kept telling her about the beach and how she wanted to bring her somewhere safe. The only safe place she knew.

“Where we won’t get caught and court-martialed..” Raelle whispered, full tears falling down both of their faces. “The beach, you wanted us to go there.”

“Yes.. I wanted to protect you. I’ve never wanted to intentionally hurt you, Raelle. I’m sorry..” Scylla sobbed her apologies.

Raelle turned around and walked closer to her and kneeled down, taking her hands. She took her left palm.

“You contacted me, right..? Wasn’t I imagining things?” She asked quietly.

“Yes.. I tried to, as soon as I got a chance, they brought me here, I was passed out for a while, or they induced me to sleep.. I wanted to let you know I was alive.”

“I tried to find you.. I went to the lighthouse.” Raelle said looking into her eyes now and bringing one hand on her cheek, caressing it.

“I am s-” Raelle didn’t need another apology, she knew she was truthful. Right now she just needed to be close to her, so she kissed her. It was wet and salty because of the tears, but she didn’t care.

“I am sorry, Scyl. I do believe you. I am in this with you, I meant my promise.'' She rested their forehead together.

They stayed like that for a little longer. But then they heard commotion outside the room.

“I’m going to let you out in one way or another, we’ll find a way, Scyl. I promise.”

“I trust you, Rae..” Scylla smiles and gives her another quick kiss before they separated.

Raelle stood up and walked to the door pounding on it, Anacostia opened it and looked at the both of them and nodded.

“The President is about to start the press conference, you need to go.”

She’ll free her, was that the last thing she did.

Raelle never went to watch the press conference, instead she went to the place she most liked: the tree where she spent most of her time with Scylla, where they exchanged gifts, promises. She couldn’t believe she would have ever doubted her. She was stupid, but damn she was so glad she was ok.

She stayed there, crying without self-control.

Suddenly she remembered her conversation with Byron during Beltane.

“What would you do if you were so in love with someone and maybe they’ve done something wrong? Something unforgivable?”

“We all have our fatal flaws, don’t we? I know I do. But honestly, I guess you’ve to decide if that person is worth it, and then fight for them, it’s all you can do.”

She was willing to fight for her, she was, she just didn’t know how. There was so much at stake.

She was all alone, no one would help her. She kept her eyes closed, seeing Scylla’s face in her mind once again, she was so broken, her beautiful Scylla. The anger all gone, she just felt more emptier than ever before, she wanted to have more time with her.

Suddenly Anacostia came by and sat with Raelle.

“I shouldn’t have put you through that.” She was so soft with her speaking and that broke the girl once again.

“I still love her..”

“I know.”

“I’m so stupid..” she was referring to how she dealt with everything.

“No you’re not, you’re just human. She loves you, that part is real.” Anacostia tries to reassure her, unaware of what they told each other. For a split of second, Raelle thought she could help her. She should come clean.

“I think I’ve messed up, I told Petra that Scylla was being held on base.”

“Why did you do that!?” the Sergeant was clearly shocked and alarmed at the explanation, there was such an urgency in Anacostia’s voice when she said. “We need to find your unit now.”

Little did she know what she and the others were going to find out: they were in terrible danger with Alder having gone south and puppetted the President.

But in Raelle’s mind there was Scylla right now: what was going to happen to her? For sure the order to transfer her was made by Alder, would that be done quicker than before? Did she have time to free her?

The problem was that the next day there would have been graduation, it would have been a terrible busy day and she didn’t know what to do. She needed to talk with Anacostia more, she needed time to tell her everything, she saw how she reacted, she really hoped she wasn’t seeing things and that the woman truly cared.

“Anacostia, do you-”

“Raelle, I need to go and check on her.. I need to check they’re not doing anything, we’ll talk later. I will find you.” The other two girls looked at them curiously. They clearly wanted answers from them and once the Sergeant went away Raelle was immediately cornered.

“What happened?” Abigail asked first, while Tally simply looked at her. Raelle knew she could feel her emotions.

“I.. we talked, she explained everything, Abigail she didn’t know anything.”

“Are you sure..?” she asked.

“Of course I am! Tally you saw that too, I saw when we linked, she was concerned about my wellbeing.”

“Yes, she was.. I’ve always known she loved you, it’s just.. She’s Spree, Raelle.”

“Yeah? And look at Alder! Look at what she’s doing! What’s the difference!? She sent us to die! We weren’t ready for a real mission, we weren’t ready to deal with the real Spree, we are only eighteen! We know nothing still.. She was being played, like the rest of us.. Military, Spree.. They only play with our lives.” Raelle couldn’t hold it any longer, they were a unit, they were supposed to be on the same team and on the same page, yet she was feeling like they weren’t at all in sync.

“You’re right..” Abigail said. “Raelle, look, we got you, right Tally?”

Tally stayed quiet for a moment but nodded. “Yes, we are sisters. And you’re right, you’ve always been right.”

Raelle couldn’t help but cry, she felt like a baby, she was crying all day, all week, all the time, what the heck was happening to her? But the two girls were there to catch her and they hugged one another.

“We stick together.”

Anacostia found Raelle the next morning and told her that she was going to do everything possible to postpone any transfer. They did want to move Scylla before taking her to prison, since Petra knew and Raelle had visited, she couldn’t say more because they had to get going for the graduation ceremony.

Which didn’t go as hoped: they didn’t get into war college, of course they wouldn't. Alder knew what they did, they went behind her back and reported her to Petra, it was her sick way of revenge. Instead it wasn’t her work, Khalida made that happen, there was a rescue mission, one they for sure weren’t ready for. But what could they do? They weren’t in charge of anything. They had only little time to prepare themselves, was this their moment to say their final goodbyes?

Raelle went to her father, at least she’d get a chance to stay with him a little longer. Of course she had to break his heart and tell him she was being deployed. But of course, he being her father was acting thought and telling how the same happened to her mother.

So of course she asked him about the charm, it was probably her only chance to know if she was right in thinking she wasn’t wearing it and that’s why she died.

“She never brought her for her last tour. It’s like she knew she wasn’t coming back and knew how much she wanted to be passed to you.” So she knew, she knew she was going to die and Raelle was right all along. The military was nothing but trouble and sorrow. So there she was, hugging her father and promising him to come back home. ‘I hope I’ll get home.’ she thought.

Once she left her dad she tried to find Anacostia but didn’t, she wanted to talk with her about Scylla but as soon as she arrived in her room she was there.

She told them how Petra managed to pull strings and let Abigail go to War College instead of going on the mission. It was absurd of course, the unit was everything that mattered to them, this day was only full of surprises.

Raelle took the advantage of having Anacostia there to talk about Scylla.

“Wherever they’re taking Scylla, can you.. Can you please make sure they go easy on her? I know she has messed up, but she’s not all bad.”

“I’ll try.” Anacostia said softly.

“Thank you, she has suffered enough..” Raelle says.

Anacostia nodded in agreement and looked at the clock. “You don’t have much time, just a few minutes.” it was a silent message that Raelle quickly understood. She smiled and followed her to once again that damn basement.

“Make it count.” Anacostia reminded her.

Raelle entered the room, Scylla wasn’t expecting her and she lit up.

“Raelle..what are you doing here?” she asked as the girl approached her.

“I couldn’t go without seeing you first.” she replied and kissed her with all the love she had.

“Go? Go where?” She asked, confused.

“A mission for the Tarims with Alder.” she replied with her eyes still closed after the kiss, wanting to savor the moment.

“What.. you can’t go, you should have gotten into War College, you were supposed to stay safe..” Raelle smiled at that, of course Scylla believed in her more than everybody else.

“Life has always a hidden surprise.” She squeezed her hand. “Anacostia will help you. I’m coming back for you, remember. I love you, Scyl.”

“Be careful, Rae, I love you, more than you know.”

And so she left her, against all of her instincts, she knew she should have stayed with her, she should have taken her right there at that moment, but she also knew she had to go, Alder was waiting. She looked at Anacostia meaningfully. She understood immediately and nodded to her.

While she was walking to the airport she felt something on her palm, she looked at it and smiled.

There they were, on the plane, the three of them, Abigail surprised them by joining them at the last second, how Raelle wished she wasn’t the only surprise. She for once wasn’t feeling alone, she had Scylla’s love by her side, her mother’s letter by her other side, and her unit was there.

Still, she can’t deny she was worried about the mission, for all the flight she had a sick feeling and once they arrived she knew she was right, as Tally stated they were being watched and she wouldn’t shake that sensation off, something big would have happened soon. Something was wrong.

They managed to find the Tarim in a cave, they were sick, as suspected, but Raelle managed to cure them, she was still surprised how she was able to do that.

You’re more powerful than you think.

You have powerful work in you girl, trust your gift, never doubt it, not even for a minute.

They all believed in her and she was starting to believe in herself too. She was making her mother proud, and she couldn’t be more happier for that.

Of course, it couldn’t go all smooth as they wanted, they were attacked, not by the Spree as they previously suspected but by the Camarilla. They tried their best, Tally managed to show off her knower skills, giving Alder orders without a second of delay, they were so in sync, it was all such an incredible fight. But then a few biddies got hurt, they took them by surprise and they froze. A part of Raelle was thinking that was karma, but another part was petrified of the consequences of Alder actually dying right there, what chances had they got to get out of there alive? But of course, Tally being Tally sacrificed herself to save Alder and become a biddy herself. They wouldn’t have ever seen that coming and Raelle and Abigail were completely shocked by her actions. Once Alder got better, they went to the helicopter, where all the others were, they were almost ready to lift off when the kid Raelle saved earlier suddenly jumps off the chopper and runs away, terrified most likely.

Raelle follows him, trying to take him back so that they could all go back home. “I know what you need, see this?” and she pointed at her mother’s charm, which she took off, “watch, this will keep you safe.”

“Raelle, we gotta go!” Abigail screamed at her.

“Take him!” she said her back, she needed the kid to be safe, she would watch their back while they brought him back to the helicopter. But of course she didn’t watch hers.

“Raelle!” Tally cried out loud.

Suddenly, Raelle felt something on her chest, right where her charm was, something foreign. ‘Wait, that’s not supposed to be here..What is it?’ she looked down and fell down as soon as the blade left her body.

What the heck was happening? Why was everything going so damn wrong?

She felt suddenly cold.

‘Oh, that’s what it feels like? Was this what you felt, Mom?’ She kinda heard commotion around her, but she couldn’t quite catch it. There were too many noises coming from the helicopter motors. She just wanted some peace and quiet. She closed her eyes and she suddenly saw Scylla’s smile.

I’m Scylla

Live a little!

I want to show you something beautiful.

Nothing really dies, life becomes death which becomes life again, over and over.

If I do get the urge to run, I’ll take you with me.

I have feelings for you.

No matter what happens, I love you

I chose you!

She smiled at the memories. “Scylla..” she murmured. What a great way to leave this earth. Just when she found her again, she was losing her all over again. Life had such a sense of humor, didn’t it? Once again she made promises and she didn’t keep them, she promised Scylla, Anacostia and her father she would have come back. She promised Scylla she’d be back for her, to free her. She left her all alone, who knew if Anacostia managed to free her. Was she okay? Silly Raelle, always thinking about her instead of herself, always putting her first. Love really blinded people.

She felt a familiar warmth on her left palm.

‘Oh Scylla, if only you knew.. I am sorry. I really wanted to go to the beach with you, I really wanted to live a life with you, just the two of us, not military or Spree nonsense.’

“I am so sorry, beautiful..” she said to no one.

“Don’t you dare be sorry!” Raelle frowned. “Open your eyes, you big stupid! Was this your grand plan?”

Raelle opened her eyes. “What..!? How could..?” she tried to speak.

“I couldn’t let you die.. I tried to send you messages, I felt you were in trouble.” Scylla said while linking with her giving her some first aid.

“Now hold on, we’re bringing you back home.” Anacostia said while gesturing Abigail to help them out.

While Raelle and Scylla were linking she felt all the other girl's emotions, she felt the pain she felt during the past weeks, she felt the regret of her actions, she felt her grief for her parents, she felt the worry of losing Raelle, but the most prominent feeling there was? Her love for her.

Once she felt stronger and she was stabilized the link was interrupted and Raelle was able to look around herself, there was another helicopter there, Anacostia and Izadora came with Scylla. They somehow knew they were going to get into a trap, so they tried to join them as quickly as possible and lucky for Raelle they did. And now they were helping her get on it.

She had so many questions and Scylla sensed them, she took Raelle’s face between her hands and gave her a loving kiss.

“Later, I’ll explain everything later.”

Both helicopters took off, leaving behind that forsaken place.

#sorry for the lenght #finale fixed #motherland fort salem #fanfiction #alternative ending #raylla #raelle x scylla #raelle collar #scylla ramshorn #abigail bellweather #tally craven #anacostia quartermaine #bellweather unit #my otp #that's the ending they deserve

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ryanmeft · 4 years

Text

Ryan’s Favorite Films of 2019

A stuttering detective,

A top hat-wearing vamp

A forced-perspective war,

A bit of Blaxploitation camp

Prisoners on a space ship

Having sex with bears

A writer goes remembering

Whenever his pain flares

A prancing, dancing Hitler

A gambler high on strife

Here will go cavorting with

A mom who becomes a wife

A family plot with many threads

Three men against their own

A stuntman and his actor

A mobster now quite alone

Doubles under the earth

Two men in a tall house

Are here to watch a woman who

Is battling with her spouse

A family’s plans for their strong son

Go awry one night

A man rejects his country

Which is spoiling for a fight

A house built by his grandpa

(Maybe; we’re not sure)

Looks out upon three prisoners

Whose passions are a lure

All these are on my list this year

It’s longer than before

Because picking only ten this time

Was too great of a chore

What are limits anyway?

They’re just things we invented

I don’t really find them useful

So, this year, I’ve dissented

You may have noticed this time out

That numbers, I did grant

Promise they’ll stay in this order, though?

Now that, I just can’t

I’m always changing my mind

Because, after all, you see

Good film is about the heart

And mine’s rather finicky

There are a lot more I could name

(And I’ll change my mind at any time)

For now, though, consider these

The ones I found sublime

20. Motherless Brooklyn

I’ve got a (hard-boiled) soft spot for 90’s neo-noirs like L.A. Confidential, Red Rock West and Seven, and Edward Norton’s ‘50’s take on Jonathan Lethem’s 90’s -set novel can stand firmly in that company.

19. Doctor Sleep

There’s something about Stephen King’s best writing that transcends mere popularity; his work may not be fine literature, but it is immune to the fads of the moment. So, too, are the best movies based on that work. This one, an engaging adventure-horror, deserved better than it got from audiences.

18. Jojo Rabbit

There was a time when the anything-goes satire of Mel Brooks could produce a major box office hit. Disney’s prudish refusal to market the film coupled with the dominance of franchises means that’s no longer the case. If you bothered to give Jojo a shot, though, you got the strange-but-rewarding experience of guffawing one moment and being horrified the next.

17. By The Grace of God

I’d venture this is the least-seen film on my list; even among us brie-eating, wine-sniffing art house snobs, I rarely hear it mentioned. Focusing on the perspectives of three men dealing with a particularly heinous and unrepentant abusive priest and the hierarchy that protects him, it’s every bit as disquieting and infuriating as 2015’s Oscar-winning Spotlight.

16. Waves

You think Trey Edward Shultz’s Waves will be one thing---a domestic drama about an affluent African-American family (and that in and of itself is a rarity). Then it becomes something else entirely. It addresses something movies often avoid: that as life goes on, the person telling the story will always change.

15. Transit

You’re better off not questioning exactly where and when the film is set (it is based on a book about Nazi Germany but has been changed to be a more generalized Fascist state). The central theme here is identity, as three people change theirs back and forth based on need and desire.

14. American Woman

Movies about regular, working class, small-town American usually focus on men. This one is about a much-too-young mother and grandmother, played brilliantly by Sierra Miller, dealing with unexpected loss and the attendant responsibilities she isn’t ready for.

13. Marriage Story

There is an argument between a married couple in here that is as true a human moment as ever was on screen---free of trumped-up screenplay drama and accurate to how angry people really argue. The entire movie strives to be about the kind of realistic divorce you don’t see on-screen. It is oddly refreshing.

12. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

Quentin Tarantino’s love letter to 70’s Tinseltown is essentially a question: What if the murder that changed the industry forever had gone down differently? Along the way, it also manages to be a clever and insightful study of fame and fulfillment, or lack thereof.

11. High Life

Claire Denis is damned determined not to be boring. Your reaction to her latest film will probably depend on how receptive you are to that as the driving force of a film. Myself, I’m very receptive. I want to see the personal struggles of convicts unwittingly shipped into space, told without Action-Adventure tropes, in a movie that sometimes misfires but is never dull.

10. Dolemite Is My Name

And fuckin’ up motherfuckers is my game! Look, if you don’t like naughty words, you probably shouldn’t be reading my columns---and you definitely shouldn’t be watching this movie. Eddie Murphy plays Rudy Ray Moore, the ambitious, irrepressible and endlessly optimistic creator of Blaxpoitation character Dolemite. Have you seen the 1975 film? It’s either terrible and wonderful, or wonderful and terrible, and the jury’s still out. Either way, Moore in the film is a self-made comic who establishes himself by talking in a unique rhyming style that speaks to black Americans at a time when black pop culture (and not just the white rendition of it) was finally beginning to pierce the American consciousness. What The Disaster Artist did for The Room, this movie does for Dolemite---with the difference being I felt like I learned something I didn’t know here.

9. 1917

Breathless, nerve-wracking and somehow intensely personal even though it almost never takes time to slow down, it is fair to call Sam Mendes’s film a thrill ride---but it’s one that enlightens us on a fading historical time, rather than simply being empty calories. Filmed in such a way as to make it seem like one continuous, two-hour take, for which some critics dismissed it as a gimmick, the technique is used to lock us in with the soldiers whose mission it is to save an entire division from disaster. We are given no information or perspective that the two central soldiers---merely two, in a countless multitude---do not have, and so we are with them at every moment, deprived of the relief of omniscience. I freely admit I tend to give anything about World War I the benefit of the doubt, but there’s no doubt that the movie earns my trust.

8. Ash Is Purest White

Known by the much less cool-sounding name Sons and Daughters of Jianghu in China, here is a story that starts off ostensibly about crime---a young woman and her boyfriend are powerful in the small-potatoes mob scene of a dying industrial town---but after the surprising first act becomes a meditation on life, perseverance and exactly how much power is worth, anyway, when it is so fleeting and so easily lost. What do you do when everything that defined you is gone? You go on living. This is my first exposure to writer-director Jia Zhangke, an oversight I must strive hard to correct in future.

7. Knives Out

The whodunit is a lost art, a standard genre belonging to a time when mass audiences could appreciate a picture even if someone didn’t run, yell or explode while running and yelling every ten minutes. Rian Johnson and an all-star cast rescued it from the brink of cinematic extinction and gave it just enough of a modern injection to keep it relevant. Every second of the film is engaging; Johnson even manages to have a character whose central trait is throwing up when asked to lie, and he makes it seem sympathetic rather than juvenile. The fantastic cast of characters is backed up with all the qualities of “true” cinema: perfect camerawork, an effective score, mesmerizing production design. As someone who didn’t much care for Johnson’s Star Wars outing, I’m honestly put out this didn’t do better at the box office than it did.

6. A Hidden Life

After a few questionable efforts and completely losing the thread with the execrable vanity project Song to Song, Terence Malick returns to his bread and butter: meditative dramas on the nature of faith, family, and being on the outside looking in, which encompass a healthy dose of nature, philosophy and people talking without moving their lips. That last is a little dig, but it’s true: Malick does Malick, and if you don’t like his thing, this true story about a German dissenter in World War II will not change your mind. For me, what Malick has done is that rarest of things: he had made a movie about faith, and about a character who is faithful, without proselytizing. That the closeness and repressiveness of the Nazi regime is characterized against Malick’s typical soaring backdrops is a masterstroke, and the best-ever use of his visual style.

5. The Lighthouse

Robert Eggers is a different kind of horror filmmaker. After redefining what was possible with traditional horror monsters in The Witch, he returned with something that couldn’t be more different: an exploration of madness more in the vein of European film than American. Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe are two men stranded in a lighthouse together slowly losing their minds, or what is left of them. The haunting score and stark, black-and-white photography evoke a nightmare caught on tape, something we’re not supposed to be seeing. It’s not satisfying in a traditional way, but for those craving something more cerebral from horror, Eggers has it covered.

4. Us

I have become slightly notorious in my own little circle for not thinking Get Out was the greatest film ever made, and now I’ve become rather known for thinking Us just might be. Ok, so that’s definite hyperbole: “greatest” is a tall claim for almost any horror movie. Yet here Jordan Peele shows that he can command an audience’s attention even when not benefiting from a popular cultural zeitgeist in terms of subject matter. It’s a movie with no easy or clear message, one that specializes in simply unsettling us with the idea that the world is fundamentally Not Right. I firmly believe that if Peele becomes a force in the genre, 50 years from now when he and all of us are gone, his first film will be remembered as a competent start, while this will be remembered as the beginning of his greatness.

3. The Last Black Man in San Francisco

Ostensibly about urban gentrification, this story of a young black man trying to save his ancestral home from the grasping reach of white encroachment is a flower with many petals to reveal. Don’t let my political-sounding description turn you off: the movie is not a polemic in the slightest, but rather a wry, sensitive look at people, their personalities and how those personalities are intertwined with the places they call home. Though the movie is the directorial debut of Joe Talbot, it is based loosely on the memories and feelings of his friend Jimmie Falls, who also plays one of the two central characters. If you’ve ever watched a place you love fall to the ravages of time and change, this movie may strike quite a chord with you.

2. Uncut Gems

When asked why this movie is great, I usually say that it was unbelievably stressful and caused me great anxiety. This description is not usually successful in selling it. The Safdie Brothers have essentially filmed chaos: a man self-destructing in slow-motion, if you can call it slow. Howard Ratner has probably been gradually exploding all his life; he strikes you as someone who came out of the womb throwing punches. He’s an addictive gambler who loves the risk much more than the reward, and can’t gain anything good in life without risking it on a proverbial roll of the dice. His behavior is destructive. His attitude is toxic. Why do we root for him? Perhaps because, as played by Adam Sandler, he never has any doubt as to who he is---something few of us can say. He’s an asshole, but he’s a genuine asshole, and somehow that’s appealing even when you’re in his line of fire.

1. Pain and Glory

When I realized I would, for the first time, have the chance to see a Pedro Almodovar film on the screen, I was overjoyed. His movies aren’t always great, but that was of little concern: he’s one of the handful of directors on the planet who can fairly call back to the avant-garde traditions of Bergman or Truffaut, making the movies he wants to make about the things he want to make them about, and I’d never seen one of his films when it was new and fresh, only months or years later on DVD.

It seems I picked right, as his latest has been almost universally hailed as one of the best of his long career. An aging, aching filmmaker spends his days in his apartment, ignoring the fans of his original hit film and most of his own acquaintances, alive or dead---he tries hard to put his memories away. Throughout the course of the movie, he re-engages with most of them in one way or another, coming to terms with who he is and where he’s been, though not in a Hallmark-movie-of-the-week way. Antonio Banderas plays him in the role that was always denied him by his stud status in Hollywood. It isn’t simply him, though: every person we meet is engaging and, we sense, has their own story outside of how they intersect with his. Most engaging is that of his deceased mother, who in her youth was played vivaciously by a sun-toughened Penelope Cruz. Perhaps Almodovar will tell us some of their stories some day. Perhaps not. I would read an entire book of short fiction all about them. This is the year’s best film.

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alexandralyman · 5 years

Note

Could you write a one shot where Ethier killian or emma has to sing to one another because they have a nightmare? I have been trying to find a fic like this but I cant😞 Just a suggestion :)

Hey @liftinglovley - you sent me this a while ago and I finally sat down and wrote it out. I knew the song I wanted to use - a personal Disney fave that I think is underrated compared to the more famous ones but it perfect as a CS song - it just took some time to figure out the rest. What I came up with was this, 3,900 words, mostly of canon compliant, domestic CS.

Set at some point after 7x02 and before the finale, rated PG

Also posted on ff.net here as part of my Every Page series of one-shots

candle on the water

Minnesota, 1991Children’s Group Home

“She’s faking it.”

Emma looked over Mrs. Cooper’s shoulder at Kayla, leaning against the doorway with her a sour look on her face. The thermometer jammed uncomfortably in Emma’s mouth kept her from sticking her tongue out at the other girl, Kayla had been nothing but a bitch since Emma had arrived at the group home and here she was again, sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong.

“Kayla, you’re going to miss the bus,” Mrs. Cooper said without turning around, one hand pressed to Emma’s forehead. She took the thermometer and squinted at it, while Kayla craned her neck and tried to get a look at the number on the little screen. Emma hunched forward, the scratchy, donated pajamas were making her back itch again and felt damp and gross after a night of tossing and turning and barely making it to the bathroom down the hall before she threw up that morning.

“You’ve got a bit of a fever honey, it’s probably best if you stay home from school today.”

“What?” Kayle screeched, dropping her faux-fur backpack on the floor with a thump. “No way! If she’s sick then so am I, she probably gave it to me and I should get to stay home from school too!”

“That’s enough!” Mrs. Cooper snapped, getting up off of Emma’s bed and turning around to shoo Kayle out of the room. “You already skipped twice last week and now I’ve got to set up another meeting with your principal and your social worker to discuss your attendance issues, you are not sick and you are going to school today, young lady!”

Emma felt too crappy to tell Mrs. Cooper that Kayla had actually skipped school three times last week, not two, and had gone to the mall with two older boys to shoplift cassettes from the music store and had hidden them under her mattress. Besides, Emma wasn’t a snitch, even if Kayla deserved to be hauled off to juvie, snitches got their ass beat and their stuff messed with. Still, she smiled as Kayla angrily snatched up her backpack and went stomping down the stairs, followed a minute later by the loud slam of the front door. Mrs. Cooper sighed at the sound, shaking her head. Emma almost felt sorry for her, but she knew by now that the woman would probably be gone in a few months anyway and a new housemother would come in and change all the rules again, no one ever stayed for long working at the group home and there was no point in feeling bad for any of them. Even the nice ones.

Especially the nice ones, cause it always hurt the most when they left.

Mrs. Cooper was one of the okay ones. She told Emma that she had a lot of work to do and would be in her office most of the day, but Emma could watch TV if she wanted instead of having to stay in bed, as long as she didn’t make too much noise. Emma dug out her baby blanket from her own hiding place and brought it down with her to the TV room, since she knew it would be safe with all of the other kids at school until three. The older kids usually hogged the remote and never let anyone else pick what show to watch, so Emma didn’t even care that the saltines Mrs. Cooper brought from the locked pantry to help settle her stomach were the lame store-brand kind that always broke when you tried to take them out of the package and tasted like cardboard. She clutched the remote tight on her lap all through The Price is Right and when it was over and some dumb soap opera started she started flicking through all the channels, careful to keep the volume down so that Mrs. Cooper wouldn’t get all mad and make her go back to bed. Boring news shows, and even more boring M*A*S*H rerun, that was playing on two different channels for some reason, an infomercial for a cooking thing that could make breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert, and she changed channels again because the grilled cheese sandwich the lady was making in it looked good and was making her hungry. She wished the VCR wasn’t broken again or that they got one of the cool channels like MTV, burrowing a bit more into her blanket.

“And now back to the KSTP afternoon movie, Pete’s Dragon.”

Emma watched as the TV screen was filled with a little, old-fashioned looking town next to the ocean. She sort of knew this movie, it was one of those old Disney ones that had real people and cartoons all mixed together, like Mary Poppins. The older kids would call it a baby movie, especially Kayla, who hid makeup she wasn’t supposed to be wearing in her backpack, but the older kids and Kayla were all at school and Emma could watch whatever she wanted to without anyone making fun of her.

She leaned her head against one of the cushions as the movie played on. Pete was a boy, an orphan about the same age as her, but he had a dragon named Elliott who helped him escape from the bad people who’d bought him and together they made their way to the small town by the ocean. They met a lady named Nora, whose boyfriend died in a shipwreck, and her dad the lighthouse-keeper, and all the other townspeople, living happily with them until the bad people showed up and tried to capture Elliott. He got away, and used his breath to relight the fire at the top of the lighthouse after it went out, saving the life of Nora’s boyfriend, who wasn’t dead, he just had amnesia and forgot her until he got better and had come back on another ship. They invited Pete to stay and join their family, and he said goodbye Elliott, who flew away to look for another kid like Pete to help.

There was also a *lot* of singing. Emma didn’t like to sing, not anymore.

It was kind of a baby movie. Orphans like Pete didn’t just find new families like that. They ended up in foster care and their chances of adoption went down the older they got. The social workers called it statistics, Emma knew it meant that there wasn’t a happy, ready-made family out there waiting for her, or Kayla, or any of the other older kids. In real life Nora and her boyfriend would just have their own baby. And dragons definitely weren’t real.

The songs were okay though, and her favourite was the one Nora sang while looking out over the ocean from the lighthouse balcony when she was missing her boyfriend, even though it was the slow one.

“I’ll be your candle on the water,My love for you will always burn.I know you’re lost, and drifting,But the clouds are lifting.

Don’t give up, you have somewhere to turn.”

…..

Some Years LaterStorybrooke, Maine.

“How’s the morning sickness today, sweetheart?”

Emma held the phone to her ear with her shoulder, reaching up for the box of saltines in the cupboard.

“More like Killian-tired-to-bring-fresh-mackerel-in-the-house-sickness today,” she said to her mother with a wince. “The smell was just….ugh.”

Snow laughed softly. “Oh, I remember that. I had to bolt from a ball once when I was pregnant with you and they were passing around caviar hor d'oeuvres, your poor father found me throwing up in a decorative urn out on the balcony.”

“Yeah, pregnancy and fish just don’t seem to mix. Which is a little awkward when you’re married to a man who views it as an essential food group.”

“Guess it runs in the family,” Snow said, and Emma could practically see her mother’s smile even over the phone. “You do kind of have my chin.”

She started to nibble on one of the saltines while Snow chatted on, hoping Killian would be back soon with the ginger ale he’d gone out to get after discovering they were all out while she was puking her guts up in the bathroom. He felt terrible about the whole mackerel incident, quickly apologizing to both her and the baby for upsetting them before slamming the lid back on the cooler and taking it out onto the porch. Emma loved that he was teaching her little brother how to fish, but maybe the rather pungent fruits of their labour could stay on the Jolly Roger and out of her kitchen for right now.

“Oh! Before I forget, I got a letter from Ruby, after the baby shower she and Dorothy are going to finally take that road trip out to Kansas that they keep talking about before they go back to Oz.”

It was a little odd that the guest list for Emma’s upcoming baby shower included both the actual Wicked Witch of the West and Dorothy, but such was life in the small town of Storybrooke Maine, where almost everyone was a fairytale character, including Emma’s own husband and the father of her unborn child, the fearsome Captain Hook himself.

A very sheepish Captain Hook, when he returned home from the grocery store toting a reusable shopping bag stuffed with ginger ale, another box of saltines, the good kind and not the lame store brand that always broke as soon you tried to take one out of the sleeve and tasted like cardboard, a bouquet of roses and a scented candle.

Two scented candles.

Three scented candles.

Candles kept appearing from the bag until over half a dozen jars were crowded together on the kitchen table, cinnamon stick, eucalyptus, bayberry, fresh linen. Emma rested a hand on the swell of her stomach and raised an eyebrow at Killian, noting how the tips of his ears had gone red.

“I thought a candle might help if there was any lingering odor from the mackerel, but I wasn’t sure if there were any other scents you and the bean were particularly sensitive to right now so I thought I should get a backup, just in case, but then what if you didn’t like that one either so I procured a backup for the backup, and then-”

“A backup for that one too?” Emma finished, trying not to laugh.

“Aye, well. It seemed like a good idea at the market.”

She’d used Febreeze and a bit of magic to get rid of the icky fish smell once she’d come out of the bathroom, but she appreciated the effort nonetheless and she shuffled forward to wrap her arms around his neck while he shifted his hips to make room for the baby between them. Pregnancy was hard, and exhausting, she wasn’t seventeen this time around and morning sickness had teamed up with midnight heartburn to seriously kick her ass, but she had Killian and her parents and half the town on speed dial, ready to drop everything and come to the Saviour’s aid.

It had taken her years to find the home Neal had once talked about, and almost as long to accept that Storybrooke was, in fact, that place, but now that she had it was like a cloud had lifted and while her life would never be simple, she wasn’t living it alone.

They had takeout from Granny’s for dinner instead of fresh-caught mackerel - grilled cheese, with a side of sauerkraut, because Emma had a craving for it and Killian knew better than to ask why the smell of fish made her throw up but fermented cabbage was OK - and finished the movie she’d fallen asleep halfway through the night before. After their wedding, once things had finally quieted down in Storybrooke (not that they were ever completely calm in a town where Moby Dick might surface in the harbour on a random Sunday and a pair of actual dragons lived in a house down the street and threw weekly barbecues that had a tendency to set neighbouring cars on fire) they’d finally had time for what Henry dubbed Operation Pop Culture, a.k.a getting Killian more familiar with The Land Without Magic. Specifically, the movies, TV shows, books and music that everyone with curse memories was already aware of and even though Henry was off on his own adventure now, they still made time at least once a week to keep the operation going in his honour.

Star Wars. Back to the Future. Indiana Jones. Harry Potter. They made their way through several TV shows on Netflix and watched the animated Disney classics. Which was…interesting, to actually sit down and rewatch them all now that she knew the real stories behind the catchy songs and all the happily ever afters. They’d taken a bit of a break after Peter Pan, for obvious reasons, and Emma was sure watching it had been a huge mistake, but Killian said he wanted to see her frame of reference for all the people that now made up their family and friends, to understand why she had such a hard time reconciling that Mary Margaret and David really were Snow White and Prince Charming at first, or that magic was actually real.

It had been more difficult for the both of them than she’d expected, but just like letting her son follow his own path, sometimes difficult was necessary.

Now they were in the midst of what Emma described to Henry during their enchanted mirror Skype sessions as, “Disney Movies Starring People We Don’t Know and Aren’t Related To (We Think)” that had started after a bout of magic gone wrong had resulted in Killian and David switching bodies, literally on a Friday too, so naturally they had to watch Freaky Friday once the spell was undone and everyone was thankfully back where they belonged, which wasn’t Killian-in-David’s-body sleeping on their couch and David-in-Killian’s accidentally scratching the shit out of everything in the farmhouse with the hook until Snow finally took it away in exasperation.

Mary Poppins. Honey I Shrunk the Kids. The Parent Trap and Herbie the Love Bug (like with Freaky Friday, the originals only, not the Lindsay Lohan remakes) Pete’s Dragon. Escape to Witch Mountain. Emma had seen some of them before, some were new to her, and the easy, family-friendly movies with simple plots and happy endings were just the thing to relax with in the evenings, especially with their own family expanding literally day by day.

By the time David Freeman made it back to 1978 and his parents and brother after travelling through time in Flight of the Navigator, Emma was stifling her yawns, her head pillowed on Killian’s chest and his fingers playing gently with her hair. She was already in her pajamas, or more accurately, his, since the waistband on the flannel pants was still stretchy enough for her stomach and his T-shirts fit much better than hers right now, plus they were all soft and comfy. The baby was already asleep and Emma wasn’t that far behind, Killian took care of locking up and turning off the lights while she made her way upstairs and drowsily brushed her teeth.

“Goodnight, my love,” he said once they were settled in bed, spooned up behind her with his strong thighs warm against the backs of hers, bracing her against any possible storm brewing on the horizon, even if it was just midnight heartburn again. His hand drifted down to her stomach, as it did every night. “Goodnight, little bean.”

Ever since the pregnancy tracking app on her phone had compared the size of their then eight week old embryo to a jelly bean, Killian had called the baby their own magic bean and even though he or she (they were keeping it a surprise) was now supposedly the size of a papaya according to that same app, the “little bean” nickname had stuck.

“Night, Killian. Love you too.”

She was up again around two, thankfully not because of heartburn, but she needed to pee and she was hungry. Emma went downstairs after she’d used the bathroom, leaving Killian to sleep while she rooted around for something to nosh on. The house was dark, shadowed, the half-finished nursery stacked with boxes and Henry’s old room still had comic books on the shelves and photos tacked around the mirror.

Her children, both were with her in some ways, and absent in others.

The overhead light was too bright to deal with in the middle of the night so she flicked her fingers absently at one of the candles and it flared to life in an echo of the magic flaring under her skin. It illuminated just enough so she didn’t trip over the rolled-up bottoms of Killian’s pj pants or stub her toe on any of the kitchen chairs. She wasn’t sure which one it was exactly, but the smell was nice.

Emma started humming under her breath while she debated between what was left of the sauerkraut or throwing some poptarts in the toaster when a noise from upstairs made her freeze. A faint thump, and then another, and then a loud cry that had magic bursting alongside the adrenaline that flooded her when she heard her husband scream. Without thinking about it she teleported herself upstairs and as the smoke cleared she saw he was sitting up in bed, pillows thrown to the floor and the hook clutched in his hand. He had a more modern brace to attach it to now instead of the old contraption of leather straps and buckles, but he didn’t sleep with it on and it was usually left on the nightstand next to the phone charger. His phone was providing the bit of light in the room, Emma could see the picture of herself that he had set as his lockscreen smiling at her and then it turned off and the room was plunged into darkness, but not before she caught a glimpse of Killian’s face, eyes wide and terrified.

“Swan?”

His voice wavered and cracked while she climbed onto the bed, a bit awkwardly thanks to the extra weight she was carrying, plucking the hook from his unresisting fingers and setting it aside. He curled into her helplessly and she felt that his skin was damp, clammy, as if he’d just had a fever, but of course that wasn’t what it was.

“Nightmare?”

A shaky nod that she felt rather than saw, and a wave of her hand and a wish for light brought up the candle from the kitchen, it appeared on her dresser still lit and filled the room with a soft glow. It wasn’t the first time that one of them had had a bad dream, leaving the past and all its scars was still a bit of an ongoing project that, like the nursery, they were working on together.

“What was it this time?” Emma asked, although she had a good idea when his hand instantly found her stomach. After a beat Killian confirmed her suspicion with a single word, “Pan.”

Sometimes it was the Underworld, sometimes it was being the Dark One, sometimes it was something older, like his brother, or his father, but ever since the pregnancy test had turned positive Killian’s nightmares tended to revolve around Peter Pan.

“He came for our little bean through the window…and I couldn’t…Emma, I couldn’t stop him.”

Emma saw that the window had been left open a crack and the curtains were fluttering in the breeze, a small, simple thing, unless you were Captain Hook and your wife was pregnant with your child.

Killian Jones sagged into her side, his arms around her waist and his head on her chest. Peter Pan was dead, the Lost Boys had all grown up and that story was over. Emma dreamed about him too, sometimes, just like she also dreamed about the Underworld and her time as the Dark One as Killian did, and like him she also had her own old traumas making a reappearance. Getting arrested for something and having to give birth in shackles again, or having to leave Killian behind as she and their little bean were forced to leave Storybrooke and forgetting him as soon as she crossed the town line.

Weekly sessions with Archie helped, but in the middle of the night when it was just the two of them they didn’t talk much about the dreams themselves, they just held each other and found other ways to take shelter from storms made of memories and regrets.

She held Killian and hummed to him under her breath, softly at first, the same tune she’d once hummed into a cassette recorder as a forgotten child living in a shitty group home in Minnesota. The song was still in her heart and she drew on it again, but it wasn’t for herself this time, it was for her sailor, lost at sea and seeking his way back home.

“I’ll be your candle on the waterMy love for you will always burnI know you’re lost and driftingBut the clouds are lifting

Don’t give up, you have somewhere to turn.”

The flame flickered and bounced, light spilling across the bed as Killian’s shoulders started to relax and the lingering tension from his nightmare drained away while Emma sang a song she hadn’t quite remembered and never really forgotten.

“A cold and friendless tide has found you,Don’t let the stormy darkness pull you down.I’ll paint a ray of hope around you,Circling in the air, lighted by a prayer.

“I’ll be your candle on the water,This flame inside of me will grow.Keep holding on, you’ll make it,Here’s my hand, so take it.

Look for me reaching out to show,As sure as rivers flow,

Killian joined in on the final verse, his forehead resting against hers as the magic that bound them let them share the song and their voices mixed together in a promise to each other and to their little bean, held between them and loved, so loved already.

I’ll never let you go,I’ll never let you go,ll never let you go.”

#cs fic #cs ff #my fic #cs one shot #excuse to reference a lot of my fave movies in this

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thejosh1980 · 4 years

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Update #21 – 1 week at “The Ocean Shores Resort”

A week ago we left quarantine in Adelaide!!!

It's been another week of mixed emotions, but I have to say, for the first time in months, they've been mostly on the positive side of things.

Last Tuesday, we left the hotel without too much hassle. They'd given us a basic breakfast the night before to have first thing and they called us down early; luckily we were ready and down the stairs we went. Before you know it, we were in the hotel reception taking our masks off!

Adelaide and South Australia are COVID free, so no masks, no problems.

The checkout was quick (the big bill comes in a few weeks!!), the staff were awesome and the police informative. They all understand that quarantine is not easy on anyone, and they were patient with our questions and worries. We had won the jackpot of quarantine hotels: Pullman Adelaide and the staff helped make our stay tolerable.

Jumped in a taxi (with masks on cause we really weren't sure yet how to behave in the outside world) and off to the airport. We had to leave the hotel by 07:30, because another bus of incoming “Covicts” were coming in that morning. Our flight was at 11:50 up to Brisbane, so it was yet another waiting game to check in and fly. But first... coffee! (we actually bought a coffee from a coffee shop! Amazing!! It's the small things...).

The flight was about about 2/3's full, no masks.

Landing in Brisbane we had to do a border check, show our papers, explain where we had been and all that. The check was there to stop anyone who may have COVID from coming in without quarantining. Each State has slightly different rules, and they do change from time to time, depending on hotspots and COVID numbers. Because the flight was from Adelaide and we left the hotel directly to the airport, we made sure we had no problems entering Brisbane (Queensland). We definitely didn't want any chance of another 14 day hotel stay!!!

Our original plan was to fly into the Gold Coast airport, which is only about 35 minutes from Mum, but there were no flights on our leaving day, so we had to fly into Brisbane (which is 2 hours from Mum's). My cousin picked us up (bloody legend!). We were hungry, and we went directly to Yatala pies. This was the moment I started to realize we were almost home. The taste of home! (Yatala Pies is a well known bakery south of Brisbane, a regular stop for many).

My cousin could drive us as far as the QLD/NSW border. Once there, we walked across the border and Dave picked us up on the other side. A little complicated, but sure enough, the plan worked.

The whole experience felt like something out of the movies. Not that it was all “Hollywood”. It was more like: I can't believe this is finally happening. I wasn't really in the moment. Yet.

As we were getting close to “The Ocean Shores Resort” (which is the name we have for my Mum's house) I still didn't feel calm...

Anyhow, we arrived, and if you've seen our IG or FB Story on the day, you'd know that when I knocked on the front door, we had actually surprised Mum (a little early), and she couldn't find the front door key to let us in!! So our reunion started off with a scream and eventually a laugh!!

Mum did cry, but we all expected her to cry more... ;) Honestly, I think we both had cried too much the past 2 months, it was no longer needed. It was all about joy and happiness.

After meeting and hugging Alex (some more tears) we entered the house to find Mum had a “welcome home” sign and our picture up on the walls (lots of me and Alex, can't go wrong with that!!).

It was surreal.

A quick house tour for Alex and we settled down. Lots of chatting and catching up to do, and a roast dinner!

We'd made it.

The next morning (Wednesday), a son's work is never done and I was up early to take Mum to school. She's part of the support unit inside the primary school, working with kids with Autism.

Even though her eyesight is deteriorating, Mum can still work. Driving a car; that's out of the question. Reading the “use by date” on a packet of chips is almost impossible. Keeping an eye on children in the playground, developing their social skills or helping them with their school work (considering the text is usually quite large and the pictures bold) Mum can still do really well.

I've learnt she has figured out ways to cope with her eyes. She has a great memory, so once she's told something, she can remember it really well (like recipes for cooking etc). She's still a keen bargain hunter when it comes to shopping. I enjoy learning that she's kept her life as close to “normal” as possible, making small changes to the bigger things to keep her independence.

But it's those small things that are hard to do alone, which is why I'm here...

After dropping Mum off, Alex and I spent the morning of our first full day in Brunswick Heads. This is the town I lived in from the mid 80's until late 90's. I went to primary school here, learned to surf here, and know the old names of the shops (the hair dressers is now a surf shop, the butcher's is a cafe, the ice cream shop is a real estate agent and the bank has recently closed). Lots of changes for me, lots of new things for Alex.

We also went down to the beach, the south wall of the Brunswick River, where the river meets the ocean. We watched some waves. Taking in the salt air (I don't think I ever realized how salty the air is here until now).

It was a relaxing day.

But I still wasn't quite “here” in my head and heart. Leaving Dresden back in July, only to be delayed for 7 weeks, then another 2 weeks in quarantine, was going to take sometime to overcome.

Time to pick up Mum from school... Home... Unpack a little, dinner, chatting and a little TV.

Thursday morning, it was time for another radio interview. To finish off the 3 part story with ABC North Coast Radio I did another live interview with Joanne Shoebridge. I'm always nervous doing these kinds of things, even though in the music world, I've had to do interviews, they were never quite as personal as this.

After we dropped Mum off at school Thursday morning, we drove up to the Cape Byron Lighthouse and luckily got a park up close to the top.

I wanted to introduce Alex to the area as much as I could, without overwhelming her. Brunswick Heads, Ocean Shores, Mullumbimby and Byron Bay all played a big part of my childhood, and I wanted her to at least know these villages a little bit as early as possible. We'd covered Brunswick Heads and Ocean Shores a little, so now it was time for Byron Bay.

Bring on the whale watching!!

Within minutes of leaving the car, we could see whales jumping out and swimming around the cape. It was a wonderful morning. I'm so glad Alex got to see them (in fact I can't remember the last time I saw whales so close to the shore). They migrate each year around September/October, so it was perfect timing.

It was a special day for Alex...

The sun was shining, the whales were in plain sight and the tourists were kind enough to stay away from Byron Bay. COVID does have its benefits. Fewer people in these tourist spots isn't always bad (although I am quite aware the economy is suffering. The borders are opening up next week and it'll be very busy then).

Back into Ocean Shores, picked up Mum from school. Home... Dinner.. Chatting... Some TV...

Friday was the first day we had to do “stuff” in regards to living here permanently, and that was banking. So after dropping mum off at work, we drove into Mullumbimby “The Biggest Little Town In Australia”. I went to high school here.

Basically Brunswick Heads and Mullumbimby are like Neustadt in Dresden. You can't walk down the street without seeing someone you know, stopping and chatting. It happened in Brunz the other day, I literally parked my car, and lo and behold an old high school friend came out of the video store to say hi... Or in Mullum, as we arrive at the bank I see an old friend who used to teach me rock n roll dancing (yeah, I can still cut a rug)... and even inside the bank, I said hi to a fella from my high school year, we hadn't seen each other since 1997.

It's a small world...

The banking took a bit longer than expected, after much back and forward we settled on our new bank accounts and how to arrange things going forward. While I've had an account here since I was very very young, I cancelled most of my stuff when I left in 2002, so now it was time to set up shop again, especially since I had my wife with me and we have a future to work towards...

We walked the street of Mullum, grabbed a coffee and we let the country hippy vibe soak in. Alex commented on how many folks don't wear shoes here and she can't believe how many new coffee shops there are for her to try (there's a lot more than when I was a kid).

Picked up Mum from school... School holidays for 2 weeks! Yippeee!!

Home... Dinner... Chatting... some TV...

Over the weekend we sorted out things around the house. Set up better internet Wifi around the house, the pool is in good condition after the winter sleep, cupboards got cleaned out and we unpacked and the car was washed (first time I've hand washed a car in over a decade!).

Sunday I watched Mark's live stream (from his front porch in upstate New York) and I felt inspired (he does that to me). So I am considering live streaming next week. I have a guitar and good internet, so why not? I just have to find time to practice ;) I'm thinking net Sunday evening here, which would be Sunday lunch time in Germany. If I don't get to it this Sunday, then maybe next Sunday... I'll keep you posted.

Overall the weather has been warm, often over 20 degrees. But the mornings are still quite chilly, with frosty dew on the golf course out back. It's not bad for coming out of winter...

Today, Monday, we went “up the coast”, to Tweed Heads.

First thing we tried to exchange my German license for a mandatory NSW (State) license, unfortunately I gotta wait for some back checks, no idea what I did 19 years ago in Melbourne, but they wanna check it out. So onwards to shopping...

Yes!!! We bought a coffee machine! Finally we can wake and with a press of a button get ourselves a cup of joe. It's the small things....

Helped mum with the grocery shopping. She knows her stuff. She knows where everything is in every shop, but sometimes she just needs me to reassure her what is actually written on the box or package!!!

So that's basically our first week...

We are settling in well. Alex and Mum get on like a house on fire. I often can't get a word in edgewise and I'm always outvoted!

I still miss Germany and I still miss Europe... (I always will). I miss a lot of the “past life”, but that's just cause Australia has moved on without me these past 18 years. Each day here I get a little closer to that homey feeling I used to have as a teenager (when I didn't know better).

In hindsight, the past 3 months wasn't too bad... We survived... But that's easy to say now...

When we were in the middle of it, it was really tough.

It was really hard packing up our lives into boxes. It was emotionally draining saying goodbye after goodbye to our wonderful friends. Playing my goodbye show was one of the musical highlights of my life, even if it was one of the saddest.

Then we were ready to leave...

As you all know, that didn't go according to plan.

That's when the really bad feelings crept in. You know it's one thing to know you gotta pack up and say goodbye to leave (you are prepared for that)... It's another when you're ready and the world says “nope, not yet”... and again and again that build up and let down was happening, and until the last 2 weeks in Germany, we had no idea why!

As some of you know, I'm not really good at spontaneity. I'm not good when the plan changes... It was tough... But...

When we took control of the situation and booked new flights, it helped a lot. We were back in control.

Quarantine was a difficult time, it got a little dark there. It brought with it, it's own set of challenges and a steep learning curve. I, for one, learnt a lot about pressure. I put too much pressure on myself. Since we arrived here, I have tried my best to relax more, in my own way at least. My to do lists are shorter...

Alex and I had already figured out how to survive the German lockdown, the packing up of our lives and clearing out the apartment. Then we had 2 months at her parents stuck in “limbo” and then 2 weeks stuck in a room together. Our marriage is really new, and we survived that without any damage to our relationship. Sure, we both have a few personal scars, but nothing a little love and tenderness wont fix. I'm proud of her, Alex has a lot of patience for me!

I'm really happy I am here to help Mum each day. Those small things will slowly become bigger things, but for now, it's great to be able to do “stuff” with her. That was always the plan, to be here in time, before things got really bad.

We've been posting often on our IG and FB stories, so I hope folks have seen the day to day happenings. I'm sure we'll continue with that, keeping you up to date visually.

I think I'll end these FB journals here, and switch over to Tumblr full time. The idea being that if you'd like to continue to read these long “new life” chronicles, I'll still post a link here when I do update there... Confused? Me too! ;)

Thanks everyone for your messages of support and love. We are very lucky, we have the best friends.... You guys rock! You're awesome! We love you.

Love

Josh and @dauntlesscoffee

#travelblog #australia #byron bay #whale watching #coming home #covid

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apparentlynotreallyfinnish · 5 years

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Do you have any advice on how to develop a long fic plot? Most of my ideas have little plot, and I have no idea how to come up with one. My simple ideas might be okay for a 2000 word fic, but not a 75,000 word one. My ideas are like Rhett and Link go to a fancy restaurant, or Rhett has a backache and Link massages him. They aren’t these big, multifaceted ideas that make a whole story like good writers (like you!) seem to have. I wish I could figure out how to get better at ideas and plotting.

Hello, lovely anon. I’m gonna describe my process plot planning Let Me Be Your Light. Maybe that will help you. :)

This became quite long, sorry…

It started with the idea of Rhett being a lighthouse keeper. That was the starting point. (I’m pretty sure I was heavily influenced by @its-mike-kapufty‘s tmoy fic that was posting around that time and wanted to do a grumpy Rhett.) I don’t remember if Link being a helicopter pilot was the first thing I thought for him but it was one of the firsts. I wanted them to meet intermittently so there would be plenty of pining (lol). I decided on a monthly meeting and figured a year would be a good timeline. So, originally the fic was supposed to be 12 chapters long.

I started by doing some research on lighthouses and decided that it would be located on Canada. I did some weather research and figured that near St. Johns would be best fit for the mood of my story (or the mood I had in my head at that point). I actually found two islands names North and South Bird Island and made up a third one for Rhett. ^^

I did some research on the area’s flora and fauna and what kind of unusual weather they might have etc. Some of it is used in the story, most is not. I had about 4-ish pages of notes on Newfoundland after I was done with my research. (Side note, don’t get too caught up on this part. There’s always more stuff to research. You gotta stop at some point and actually plot plan/write.)

The grumpy Rhett premise kind of naturally lead to a ‘hate to love’ story but that’s something to decide. What excites you? What kind of fics do you love to read? What would you like to read but haven’t seen?

I wrote little character bios for Rhett and Link. Not sure if anyone cares but here they are (some stuff was added later after developing the plot):

Rhett: writer, phd in some scientific field, a marine biologist. Lives off of book money and writing scientific excerpts for magazines. Was married. Wife died (was pregnant) when he was 33. They were in the car together. He has severe ptsd and survivors’ guilt. They’d been together since high school. Been alone for 8 years. Been at the light house for 6 years. A colleague helped him to rent it. The lighthouse itself is automated. He does do little maintenance stuff like clean the solar panels and change parts etc. Is probably like a 1-2 in Kinsey scale. So mostly straight but… Being alone is kind of a punishment but also something he needs, because people and crowds freak him out. He was like that even before the crash, but it made it worse. Also, can’t deal with people anymore. Especially happy people. Is basically afraid of happiness.

Link: a helicopter pilot, the supply runs are a monthly sidegig. Usually flies a medical helicopter. Openly gay. Dating a lot, a few longer relationships but nothing really serious. Always felt like something didn’t add up. Generally happy person with childlike wonder. Very impulsive and emotional. Open book. Often speaks before thinks. Has a lot of buddies but not many close friends. Always felt it was hard to feel connected with a person. Might be because was in a closet for a long time and always felt like he was lying to everyone around him. Has been out for 10ish years now. After he came out, kind of went to the other extreme and constantly threw his gayness in other people’s faces. Is still a bit like that but not so much. Loves flirting and getting a reaction, but really just wants everyone to be happy.

I would probably do this for other major character but didn’t have many in this fic. Stevie and Alex kind of sneaked their way in later. :D

I’m a visual planner so at this point I took a big sheet of paper and divided it into 12 section. I wrote the beginning (they meet for the first time) and the end (the proposal) in boxes 1 and 12. Then I added some bits: this is where they fight, this is where Link can’t come, this is when they have sex for the first time, this is where Rhett needs to go to the hospital etc. Then I looked at my researched and did some shuffling around to match the weather appropriately. The beginning month was purely decided on the fact that I had to have Link stay the night during the Nor'easters (storm) that are the worst between November and March. There were other stuff too, like when was the best time to see the icebergs. I went a bit crazy here and actually looked at weather history form 2017 (or 2018, not sure anymore) to get exact weather information for the dates. So while I was writing I knew exactly what the weather was like. :D

Little by little I added bits and pieces. This took a few days. I can’t really give advice how to exactly do this. I just think of stuff up and try it out. When I had something for every month I started to write.

I can’t have a too detailed plan. Usually I have a sentence or two per chapter; the main thing that needs to happen. Otherwise I won’t feel compelled to write. But this may be different for you. Some people need the detailed plan.

The plan changed a little when I started writing. After I wrote the first chapter I added the stones. At first I searched for a new stone every time I wrote a chapter but after like 4-5 chapters I made a plan and figured all the rest, so I had a list of those. The last few changed though when the whole ending changed.

I updated my chapter plan as I wrote. I write in order. Some people write the bits they are most excited about first but I could never do that, I’d never finish the boring parts after. I need the good stuff as a motivation to get over the writing lulls.

I got @sass-and-panache as a beta after I had written the first chapter. She helped immensely with the plot planning. We brainstormed together when I felt stumped and she regularly reigned me in when I went OOC with my characters. Sometimes I get stuck on a tiny idea and refuse to realize it does not work in the story. She was very good in telling me when I did this. There were a few things we disagreed on, though. ;) And when that happened I just did what I wanted. (Because I’m stubborn AF.)

Gosh, this became obnoxiously long… Sorry. Not sure if there is anything useful here. Maybe I’ll try to bullet point a bit:

1. Think of a premise. A couple dynamic you want to explore or an interesting setting or maybe a certain kind of ending.

2. Do some research if you can. It might spark some plot points you wouldn’t have thought otherwise.

3. Get to know your characters.

4. Make a plot plan. Visual or written. Don’t consider it written in stone. It will change.

5. Write.

6. Talk to someone about your plot. Get a beta if you can/want.

7. Re-plan if necessary.

8. Write some more.

9. Get stuck researching puffins (oh, sorry, that’s just me…whoops!).

10. If something doesn’t seem to work, don’t be afraid to scrap it. I’ve written whole chapters again when I’ve realized they didn’t fit the story. (If you do this, save the scrapped bits on another document. Sometimes you can use parts later.)

11. Write some more.

12. Cry when it’s done.

13. Write a way too detailed description how you planned the fic that no one wants to read. Think about deleting it and replying something else. Be too lazy to do so.

I hope this helped. Or if it didn’t, I hope this amused you a bit.

#lovely anon #Appa gives bad advice #lmbyl #writing long fic #writing #fic writing #rhink #plot planning #not a professional #Appa's way of doing things

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eyoricka · 5 years

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fluffy ABC Theseus

A = Attractive: what do they find attractive about the other?

He loved your eyes. the color of them was so beautiful to him and was certainly the first thing he noticed when he saw you. he loved the sparkles in them when you laughed, smile or had an idea in your mind. They would bright with mischief sometimes and even if he knew that it meant troubles he adored it. he could literally read your soul through your eyes and that was probably why he loved them so much.

B = Baby: do they want a family? why/why not?

Theseus wanted a huge family, he was so excited at the idea of kids running all around the house. he wished to have girls because he grew up in a world of men, he only had a brother and, in his work, there were mostly men so he would adore to have little princesses. But he also wanted to have boys because he knew that he would love to have a strong bound with them.

C = Cuddle: how do they cuddle?

Theseus was a hugger so he just loved to cuddle, he would find any excuse to cuddle with you and that could be funny. He would be so cute when he pouted because you didn’t have time to embrace him or broke the embrace rapidly. Sometime when you were cooking or else, he would wrap his arms round you and hugged you tightly. Then he would kiss your neck and you would turn yourself to bury yourself in his chest. you would remain there a while until you had to break the embrace because the food was burning or else… Even if he was a protective man, Theseus was the little spoon. He liked to feel your small body protecting him.

D = Dates: what are dates with them like?

Since he was working a lot you practically never went on date during the week. However he would keep his Sundays just for you. sometime you would stay home cuddling while reading and telling each other work gossips, some other time you would go to a café or during summer apparat on the Brighton beach. Nonetheless when he wanted to surprise he would take you on a date during the week and he would apparat you somewhere in the United Kingdom to stargaze and eat a pick nick.

E = Everything: “you are my ____” (e.g my life, my world…)

You are my Lumos because you are the one who guide him through the dark time, you are like his lighthouse. He would always ask to be by his sides when he was stressed or sad or when he was living bad moments like he would cast a Lumos in a dull house to remind himself that he was safe.

F = Feelings: when did they know they were falling in love?

Theseus certainly realized it during his last year at Hogwarts. Anytime the professors would ask him to imagine his future he couldn’t help but include you. He imagined you as his trusting girlfriend, the one he would recount his day as auror, the one who would encourage him to follow that dangerous path… However you were already dating someone else and he just thought that it was a teen illusion of what love is and when he would end Hogwarts he would forget you. the thing is he didn’t, even months after the graduation you were still haunting his mind. He was trying to convince himself that the only reason was that he hadn’t meet anybody else but deep down he knew the truth. So when he met you on Diagon Alley it was like a sign to him, even more when during the discussion you admitted that you had broken up with your boyfriend. He decided to gather his courage ad invited you to grab a coffee with him and since that day he never let you go.

G = Gentle: are they gentle? If so, how?

Theseus was very gentle with you, very patient and protective. He wasn’t a fan of big gesture he preferred everyday act of kindness with you to show you that he didn’t love you just on special occasion but every day. After work he would usually stop by the bakery and bought you a cake, he would compliment you whenever he could, he would take care of the garden since you loved flowers and plants, snap cute photos of you…

H = Hand/Hold: how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?

When you came at his work to visit him he would always hold you hand to show everyone around that they should not flirt or mess with you. in private he liked to feel your palm on his, he just loved holding your hand while cuddling. He would caress your knuckles with his thumbs and gently brought your hand to his lips just peck it till you giggle.

I = Impression: first impression/s

The first time he saw you, you were both eleven and entering in Hogwarts. You met during the sorting ceremony and Theseus hoped that he would become your friend because you seemed really fun, adventurous but also a good listener and a nice person. However he never expected to grow so attach to you and to have feelings for you.

J = Joker: are they into pulling pranks?

He is clearly not a prankster. He did necessarily said a lot of jokes either. But he sure loved to laugh and when something funny had happened he would immediately told you with really accurate and funny impressions. He was surprisingly really good at them and sometimes just to see your smile or hear your laugh he would do them until you crying of laughter.

K = Kisses: how do they kiss?

It depended on his mood. When he wanted to show that you were his girlfriend and entirely his he would kiss you with love and passion. He would literally make out with you like a teenager. After stressful days he would peck your lips until he saw you smile again. When you were together, he would often kiss you softly just to show you that he cared.

L = Love: who says I love you first?

he was the first one to say it and actually he even said it before you were dating. He had invited you to a party with some mates of your Hogwarts time. during the party you chatted with everybody and didn’t spend a lot of time with Theseus. This latter enjoyed the company of his friends and drunk with them probably more than necessary. When you were leaving you noticed his drunk state and you smiled never expecting to see him like that one day. You hugged him to tell him goodbye and he pouted saying that he didn’t want you to leave. You replied that you had to and he practically begged you to help him to go back to his flat. You nodded and as you apparated in front of his door and helped him to go inside. As you were walking out he grabbed your wrist. He put his hand on your cheek and mumble inaudible things and you tried to understand but you didn’t. suddenly he spoke louder and said “please stay tonight I don’t want you to leave actually I never want you to leave again because I love you and I’ve always had since our seventh year.” You were taken aback but agreed to stay and slept on the couch. the following morning when you took the breakfast with him there was an awkward silent but he eventually broke it “I meant it Y/N, what I said last night I mean it, I never plan to say it so soon but drunk me wasn’t aware of that. sorry for that and if you don’t want to see me again I can understand” You gently smiled at him and replied “Don’t apologize that was rather cute and I would love to go to more dates with you and I mean sober you”

M = Memory their favourite moment together

After a mission outside of the United Kingdom he caught a cold and was sick. You took care of him and spoiled him, literally doing everything he wanted, you event took your days off to be sure that you were always there if he needed something. That was adorable but the thing is you ended sick just when he was better and took care of you just like you did with him. that was a cute memory and even if he never wanted to live that sickness, he cherished that days he spent with you.

N = Nickel do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?

You had a real sweet tooth and he would spoil you with sweet food. He would manage to have all the cupboards full of cookies, candies, cocoa powder, milk, chocolate bars… For a lot of people that was a bit strange and childish but you loved it, you thought that this cute daily gesture was far more lovely that receiving a gold necklace (even if you wouldn’t say no to that either). Moreover since Theseus loved your perfume he was the one who always bought it for you.

O = Orange what colour reminds them of their other half

The color of your Hogwarts house. Since you both met the first time at the school he saw you all that years wearing the color of your house and he still liked when you were wearing outfits of that color. First it was a really nice color on you and then it reminds him the good old time and he couldn’t help the smile.

P = Petnames what pet names do they use?

He wasn’t much a fan of pet names actually most of the time he would call you by your name or nickname and it was an habit since Hogwarts for him to call you by your family name. sometime during romantic moments or when he felt like it he would call you by really cheesy pet names like honey bun, little dove or muffin.

Q = Quaint what is their favourite non-modern thing?

Theseus was obsessed with antic statues. The first you both talked about it, you refrained your laugh, you never saw him so enthusiastic, he was talking really fast and talking with his hands. But then you understood why he liked those statues so much, to him they were so well designed, so perfect. They were telling a story and you could understand a society just by looking at them. he would always drag you to the Antiquity museum of each cities where you would stay and he would spend a huge amount of time looking at the statues and trying to sketch them even if he wasn’t so good at drawing. Once again you didn’t really mind, that was a quirk that gave charm to his personality, but you had to stop him whenever he wanted to buy one to decorate your house arguing that it would take too much space. He would pout a bit before admitting that you were right.

R = Rainy Day what do they like to do on a rainy day?

he hated rain and he was unlucky since he didn’t live in a sunny country. So he would be grumpy all the day, he would complain a lot. Actually the only things he liked about rain was seeing you admired it falling through the window. Just that would lighten his day. So even if he would never admit it aloud he was looking forward the rainy day just to see your gleeful face.

S = Sad how do they cheer themselves/each other up

Drinking a hot chocolate with a cake you would have baked in the muggle way would cheer him up. you would play with his hair while he was drinking and eating. You would tell him how amazing he was, how brave, how perfect… then you would listen to why he was so down and forced him to think positive and find a way to resolve his problems.

Theseus was always a bit panicked when you were sad so he would do everything and anything to cheer you up. he would always do different things like cuddle you, massage you, write you adorable notes, plan creative project together, make you dinner, offer you flowers…

T = Talking what do they love to talk about?

He liked to talk about his job with you because even if you didn’t wok in that field he thought that you were a good advisor. You always took your time to analyze the situation, thinking about the pros and cons and gave him the best advices. He also talked a lot about your shared time in Hogwarts, even if you two weren’t dating at that time you were close and you had spent an amazing time with him. however the thing he loved the most was to hear you recount your day with vivid details and an excited grin on your face when you were describing the things you enjoyed.

U = Unencumbered What helps them relax?

After a rather stressful day Theseus loved taking a good bath and it was even better whenever you would join him. if he was really stressed, he would also try to apply the meditation tips you gave him and controlled his breath. He had even insisted on having a Zen zone inside of the aurors department to be sure that his colleagues would have a way to relax at work and even if the minister was skeptic at first, the room dedicated at relaxation was a massive success and aurors were much more efficient.

V = Vaunt what do they like to show off? What are they proud of?

Theseus is really proud of his career and since he was so young but had such a respectable position you could totally understand. He worked so hard for that and took a lot of risks so you didn’t mind when he would brag about that. even if he would not publicly admit it, he was really proud of his brother. He would always tell you that his little brother was a fair man, truly courageous and who believed in what was right and lived of his passion.

W = Wedding when, how, where do they propose?

Every year you would insist that Theseus took two weeks of vacation to relax and not think about work. It was a sort of tradition, at the beginning of your relationship he was pretty hesitant but now he was looking forward to these two weeks of pure bliss and happiness during spring. One year you were both enjoying your vacation, but he seemed still a bit tensed. you thought that the case he was working on was certainly important but you were wrong. One night after a nice dinner you walked hand in hand to your bedroom and Theseus was clearly a nervous wreck even if he denied it. when you were back in the hotel room he took a deep breath and put a knee on the floor and proposed you. your eyes grew wide and you screamed excitingly “yes, yes, yes and thousand of yes” and you ran to his arms to kiss him.

X = Xylophone What’s their song?

Magic works by the weird sisters

Y = You the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

You are the jam and clotted cream to my scone. Theseus was English after all no nothing was more sacred to him than tea time with some scones. But to him a scone without jam and clotted cream was dry and not so good just like his life without you. You completed him, gave a meaning to his life, fulfilling it and he never felt so happy than by your side.

Z = Zebra: if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?

Of course Theseus loved animals, beasts and everything that was living. He wasn’t much of a surprise since his mom took care of hippogriffs and his brother was a magizoologist. So he didn’t mind having animals around and if you wanted one he would get one and took an extra care of it.

#theseus scamander #theseus scamander imagines #theseus x reader #callum turner #fantastic beats and where to find them #crimes of grindlewald spoilers

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

Text

Survey #197

“she wraps those hands around that pole, she licks those lips and off we go, she takes it off nice and slow ‘cuz that’s porn star dancin’.”

Do you wear something on your left hand/wrist/arm without fail? I have a ring on my left thumb. What is the latest you’ve stayed up for? Why? Oh idk, if you mean staying up waiting for something in particular and not just staying up all night for the hell of it. I think WoW's Warlords of Draenor expansion launch was the latest; it was sometime at night, between midnight and 3 A.M., and. Between me, Jason, Amanda, and Jacob, I by far stayed up the latest and pretty much died that day asleep. What is an article of clothing you would never ever wear? Rompers are just a no for me. What is something you lie to yourself about? I don't really do that anymore. If I know the truth deep down, lying would do me no good. Do you enjoy solving problems? NO. All problems do is stress me out. Are you more books smart, street smart, or random trivia smart? Oh, totally trivia. GMM taught me the most pointless shit. Are you a kinesthetic, an auditory or a visual learner? Kinesthetic. Would you ever take part in a TV quiz show? If so, which one? If not, why? No; I don't want my ugly ass on TV, the stress would murder me, plus I'd be really nervous and awkward. Does it take a lot for you to cry, or does it happen easily? It is VERY easy to make me cry. Do you have two of the same pair of pants? I believe I do. Who gives the best advice? Sara. She neeeeeds to do something in the psychological field. Do you have a lot of pictures of you and your friends? Old ones. I pretty much never take any now because 1.) I hate my face and 2.) what friends? What’s the hardest decision you’ve ever had to make? Truly and entirely letting Jason go. Who do you usually see in your dreams? Sara, my parents, sisters, and my theory is the lingering effects of PTSD keep Jason as a pretty regular fixture. HA HA OH YEAH MARK IS ALSO IN THEM SOMETIMES. Generally though, I don't remember my dreams. When was the last time you cleaned out a bathtub? Literally never. Never been a chore. Would you rather read poetry or write poetry? Write. Have you ever had any really infected injuries? Not really infected, I think. That cyst was, but that's not really an "injury." Is there any band out there that you like every song by them? No. Have you ever cussed/swore in front of younger children? If so, did they eventually imitate what you said? I'm sure I have with legit babies, but even then, I would try avoiding it. Now, I'm super careful around any aged child, and no. Do you have any friends that you almost always joke around with? Alex and Chelsea. Serious moments are almost non-existent, especially with Alex. Have you learned any new words today? No. If your hair never got greasy again, would you still wash it? Well yeah, it would still get dirty. When was the last time you played jump rope? Not since being a young teen... Talk about your first love. I think everyone in my online circle knows the story. High school sweethearts, strong and steady relationship that pretty much everyone thought was permanent, but ended very abruptly. Know now that it's for the better it ended; who the hell knows, maybe I'd still be an extremely depressed and hopeless mess. What’s the most beautiful songs you’ve ever heard in your opinion? "The Two Trees" and "Dante's Prayer," both by Loreena McKennitt, are unreal. "Obstacles" by Syd Matters? Goosebumps every single time. Okay really I could go on forever. What kind of self care is your favorite to do? I get the most satisfaction out of skin care. Are you affectionate? With s/os. I'm a hugger if I know you well enough. Who do you look up to? Mark, Steve Irwin, I look up to some parts of Otep Shamaya despite her mostly being a bitch, Sara, and there's so many more, but I'm blanking atm. Do you do art? Using what (pencil, watercolor, etc)? Usually a mechanical and colored pencils. Do you dance? What style of dance? Not anymore. Favorite old film? A lot. But probably Johnny Got His Gun. What weather is the most beautiful, in your opinion? Snowy. Do you have a lucky number? No. Have you ever wished on a star? What about on a fallen eyelash? No. What’s the most beautiful thing in life, In your opinion? People coming together for good, despite any differences or grudges. What instrumental sound is your favorite? Violin, electric guitar, or piano. What’s the best song a friend has ever introduced to you? Ohhhh idk. "Wolf In Sheep's Clothing" is high on the list, thanks Sara. Favorite shoe you own? Some converse with a skull design. Do you know any German words? Yeah, but I've forgotten quite a lot. Four semesters of German have definitely faded a bit. Do you have a passport? No. Do you say any words that are pretty specific to your area? Well, "y'all' for one. There's definitely sayings, though I'm not gonna sit here trying to remember 'em considering I don't use much, if any. Do you know anyone who everyone thinks is gay, but is not out? No. Vegetables: better raw or cooked? Are there any raw veggies I like??? Have you ever smoked? No. Would you mind dating someone significantly shorter than you? I've said it before and I'll say it again: I have a significantly negative opinion of you if h e i g h t fucking matters to you. Can you quote the movie Mean Girls? All I know off the top of my head is I think "On Wednesdays, we wear pink" or something like that. Do you live in the state you were born in? Yeah. Do your parents smoke? Dad does. Do you know anyone who has a ton of real fur clothes? No; at least I fucking hope not. If Britney Spears came to your town, would you go see her concert? In the hypothetical case of it being free, sure thing. I wouldn't actually go out of my way buying tickets. Have you ever worn a pair of leather (fake or real) pants? No. If the last person you kissed asked you to marry them, what would you do? She wouldn't ask that anytime soon. I'd only be comfortable being engaged if we were settled somewhere and the relationship was in a perfectly healthy place. When you believe in the Easter Bunny, what did you think it looked like? I don't remember. What about the tooth fairy? I think I imagined something like Tinker Bell? Do you/did you have a religion class in school? No. If your best friend got cancer, would you shave your head with them? If she was truly self-conscious of it, I probably would. Name someone you know who is Buddhist. No one, I think. Does your mom wear makeup? Very little for only special occasions. Do you kiss your boyfriends/girlfriends in front of your parents? Yes. Have you ever spent Christmas alone? No, thank Christ. Have you ever spent your birthday alone? Not all day or anything. Does your favorite uncle have any children? I only know one of my uncles well enough to have a confident opinion on him, but anyway, yes. Has anyone ever kissed you when you were so not expecting it? Possibly? Was it a good surprise kiss? Or bad? See above; I'm not sure if I was ever totally taken by surprise. Name all the members (first, middle and last names) from your favorite band. Man, I used to know this shit 100%, but I only know now Ozzy himself. Do you still have any Pokemon cards? I don't believe so. What would you do if your favorite artist came to town but your parents wouldn’t let you go? i'm???????? about to be 23????????? Do you know anyone who refuses to swear? Probably. Not anybody I know well. Have you ever heard a young child swear? Yes. Have you ever heard your grandparents swear? My grandma, yeah. But she does so seldom. What do you see when you turn your head to the right? My closet. The creepiest, most disgusting insect in the world is: Hissing cockroaches omfg no. What is your opinion on sex without emotional commitment? No. Where’s the best place to eat a romantic dinner? Olive Garden is the answer to everything. What will you dress up as for Halloween? Idk, but I reeeaaally wanna do something this year. Have you ever been in a lighthouse? No. Do you ever make your own surveys? Not exactly; I only combine them and usually delete the "no shit," boring, overused, or incredibly specific questions, like, "does the # 79 mean anything to you." What color is your shower? White. When is the last time you had a serious talk with someone? Yesterday about Bentley. I think Mom finally sees we need to get rid of him. How often do you take naps? Sometimes every day, every other, or just sporadically that week. I generally function better and am in a better mood with an afternoon nap. I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but when do you go back to school? Who the fuck even knows with my piece of shit past school. I was planning to this month. Do you find that you have a certain meal you eat every time you go to certain restaurants? In like... *every* restaurant. I don't want to order something I wind up hating. Have you ever had anything stolen from you? Maybe? When was the last time the power went out at your house and how long was it out for? Not too long ago I believe thanks to the wind. Just briefly. Ever had to get any stitches? Twice. How many times a year do you go out of state? Usually not even once a year, though now with Sara, it'll probably become a regular pattern of twice or so. About how many times during the night do you wake up from your sleep? Always, always, at least once. What kind of surveys do you wish there were more of? The deep, philosophical ones. When are you getting your next new phone? Ugh, probably not soon, though I need one desperately. Are you due for a haircut? No, got that done yesterday. Are you dealing with any health-related problems right now? Mental, we already know, but I've got some physical too currently. Do your parents like the music you listen to? Some of it, but I know Mom's not into the heavier stuff I like, and usually not the more indie stuff I'm into it. Do your parents approve of your beliefs? Dad, I don't think we agree on most, and Mom, she does some, while not others. She'd probably punch me if she learned I'm pro-choice now. Do you know anyone who’s racist? Very. What about a homophobe? Welcome to good 'ole North Carolina, my friend. What about a pedophile? They wouldn't be alive if I knew a pedophile. Who’s the most annoying person in your neighborhood? I dunno who, but there's one person on our street that has loud music playing almost constantly, even at night. You can't hear it indoors and it's not blaring outside, but I find it disrespectful to the few people who live here, especially at night. And mind you, the music sometimes isn't friendly to be playing where all of us can hear it. Name one of your psycho exes? No one. Why were they a psycho ex? N/A What’s the best revenge you ever got on someone? I don't see it as bitter "revenge" anymore, but it's chuckle-worthy every now and again to remember he broke up with me due to depression, and now I beat that shit and am working hard to stand on my own. How often do you shop at dollar stores? Only for candy for like, going to the movie theater. What’s your favorite part of a song? Usually riffs, choruses, or bridges... or guitar solos... lol idk it just depends on the song. I'd say maybe bridges the most. In school, do you/did you work better by yourself or in a group? BY MYSELF. When is the last time you ordered from a catalog? I personally never have. What’s the name of the gas station you last stopped at? Idr, it wasn't one we normally stop at 'cuz we were out of town. Is there a piece of jewelry that holds any sentimental value to you? Yeah. What was the first song you heard today? I think I listened to "Kreuzfeuer" by Powerwolf. What was the last video you watched on YouTube? Jonathan Young's cover of "Riot" by 3DG. Someone sign this man, please. Could you design an whole web page yourself? Ha, no. That stuff confuses the shit outta me. Have you ever cooked an entire dinner for your family? No. Who do you tend to get in fights with the most? My mom. Can you say today’s date in a different language? Took me a moment, but in German, yes. Does it bother you if the shower nozzle thing isn’t straight? Yes. Ours won't stay straight for anything. What is the reason you keep waking up every day? Do you have someone or something you particularly live for? Who or what is your inspiration? I want to build a future I'm proud of and enjoy each day more than ever. My history is my inspiration in the sense it's shown me what "low" truly can be and that I can climb out of that hole and to the top of the mountain one day. How would you spend your last night on earth? Would you be by yourself or with friends? Would you do something you never had the courage to do before? I'd want to be with all my loved ones that day, but just with Sara that night. I would tell her how much I love her through all words and actions I possibly could, and if that included something I hadn't had the courage for previously, yes. Do you honestly believe that your relationship (or a future relationship, if you don’t currently have one) will last until the end? How far would you be willing to go for that person? I genuinely think it will, very sincerely. I'd do a hell of a lot for her, but I'm smart enough now to know there has to be a limit. What do you think is the one thing about you that catches everyone’s attention? Are you naturally loud? Or do you make sure you have an eye-catching appearance? I'm very quiet. How would you show someone you loved them, without outright saying, “I love you?” How would you show it through actions? I mean, there's a whole lot you could do. I think the best way is just doing little things that show love. Go make that person their morning coffee, that kinda stuff. What would you do if someone cheated on you? Has that ever happened? Have you cheated on anyone? It's over; no; no. Are you outgoing or shy? I'm shy as hell. Who are you looking forward to seeing? Sara on the 4th. Are you easy to get along with? I think. What kind of people are you attracted to? The unorthodox but friendly ones. The "weirdos," so long it's not in a like, creepy way. People who are very open-minded. Do you still talk to your first crush? No. Do you like bubble baths? I don’t take baths. What are your bad habits? Procrastinating more than anything else, I peel my nails instead of trimming them oops, I weigh myself every single day, I jump to conclusions and catastrophize, I drink soda regularly, I'm very impulsive when incredibly upset, uh... HOW AM I BLANKING HERE ALREADY?????????????????? I have so many. Where would you like to travel? South Africa for the KMP, Tanzania for the Serengeti, Scotland, Japan, Germany, Canada would be cool... man, so many places. Favorite part of your daily routine? Mark video. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? My stomach. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? Idc. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? No, but then again I've been the one broken up with only once. What do you say during awkward silences? Feel like puking and disappearing both. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? No. Ever won a competition? For what? Yeah. 4th/5th grade D.A.R.E. report, some online one for two rare Silent Hill: Revelation pieces, my clogging class when I was in high school won some high rank at a competition, and I believe I've won in one or two other writing things? Been suspended/expelled? For what? No. Been arrested? For what? No. Craving something? What? I have a mad craving for Hardee's chicken tenders, good Lord. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? A stuffed snake from Sara named Plum. :') How many stuffed animals do you think you have? I could not even TRY to guess. I was obsessed with stuffed animals as a kid (I even got teased now and again for occasionally bringing one to elementary school), and so many I have hold deep sentimental value. They're stored in bags in the attic. They're probably gonna end up going to my nieces and nephew, or by if some miraculous change of heart, I want kids. Favorite character from Mean Girls? I couldn't name a single one. Favorite character from Finding Nemo? Dory, always. I was obsessed. OBSESSED. With Dory. I'm not kidding when I say I wanted to change my real name to Dory. Now in adulthood, Gill is high on my list too, probably #2. In a fight with someone? No. Do you tan a lot? Never. Have you ever been on a horse? Yes. I want to legitimately ride one one day, not just at a carnival and such. Are you a vegetarian? I wish, but the juncture I was is over. I had to stop for nutrition's sake as well as easier weight loss. After you truly look into the process of killing the animal... it's nauseating, even with the "humane" methods, which are not exactly so. No, I do not shame meat-eaters; we're omnivores and our diet is designed to include meat. It's just I personally wish I wasn't participating in that process by consuming what has been killed so gruesomely. What goal are you aiming for this year? Improving my mental health further is #1. I at the very least want to make considerable progress on my anxiety. Are you currently reading any books at the moment? Not really. I'm like a few pages into The Fault In Our Stars, but I'm not reading it anywhere near regularly. Would you own a Siamese cat? The cat I have now appears to have Siamese heritage! I love the breed, so obviously yes. Have you ever had an ultimate adrenaline rush? Maybe? Idk. Do you like deviled eggs? I absolutely, positively loathe them. I hate yolk. What’s the farthest you’ve walked? Hm, I dunno. Maybe through Disney World as a kid or a trip to the zoo? What is your favorite horror movie? I like both The Blair Witch Projects. Have you ever seen a rooster? Yeah. When are you likely to hide your emotions? When I'm jealous, probably. Which is scarier: Dying of thirst or of starvation? I mean I don't know how either would feel, but probably thirst? I feel like it would be quicker. When you turn on the TV, what channel do you flip to? I don't watch TV. Have you ever tried to help someone quit smoking? I've told Dad especially and Chelsea I wish they'd quit, usually indirectly to avoid feeling mean or rude. I'm 99% convinced it's gonna be lung cancer that kills my dad, and Chels does it way too much, especially with her age. What was the last comment someone made on your music taste? Mom pointed out how I can jump to heavy metal to some random indie stuff in the blink of an eye. Have you ever had to talk anyone out of suicide? I've tried. One in particular was a very close online friend, but I'm pretty sure she went through with it. Who in your family do you act like the most? Mom, I guess? What was the last topic that you ranted about? RANTS WITH SARA ARE THE FUCKING BEST. Probably her, but idr what. Is there someone that makes you feel like you’re walking on eggshells? Not anymore. Have you ever been in a physical fight on school grounds? No. Have you written anything in a bathroom stall? What, if anything? No. Was there ever a time when you wished you’d never been born? Yup. Who is the most sensitive person that you know? Uh, me. Have you ever had a tooth (or teeth) pulled? No. You can have one famous person’s wardrobe; who do you choose, and why? Suzy Hanson is an i c o n. When was the last time you wrote someone a note? Oh idk. It may have been the end of '17 when I sent Jason that final/closure letter. Do you tell your parents before you go somewhere, or just leave? I tell Mom. What was the last thing you tried to get out of doing? Hm. I dunno. If someone makes fun of you, are you able to laugh it off? NOPE. HI AVPD I SEE YOU. When was the last time that you watched the sun come up? Not since that time my sis, her best friend, and I stayed up all night. We went on like two walks and went swimming; my mother woke up very confused lmao. Have you ever (purposely or accidentally) played with someone’s heart? Not to my recollection. Has anyone ever played with yours? I don't believe he did so deliberately as some game. When was the last time someone told you to turn your music down? During a car ride with my mom at some point. I always control the music and yeah, it's a bit too loud sometimes. Are you one to spend a lot of time in the bathroom? No. How many times a day, on average, do you look at the time? I dunno, frequently? It's not as if I'm ever away from the laptop long, and a clock's right there. Do you like the smell of cinnamon? Omg yes. Do you like frogs? Yeah! Are you afraid of dying? Not really. The older I've gotten the more I've become comfortable with it just being a part of life. I sure don't want death to come prematurely, but I still don't really worry about what's after death. I'm fearful of the process, but not it itself. Do you consider yourself politically intelligent? NO. I'm clueless. Hence why I'm neutral on a lot. Do you like pixie sticks? Ye. Do you like French toast? I would die for the perfect French toast probably. Are you good at doing math in your head? No; I can't do even simple math up there. Do you know a lot about history? Definitely not. Name a TV show that you absolutely can’t stand. Rooster Teeth was the first to come to mind. Do you look like your age? I guess. The past two times I've had alcohol at a restaurant I wasn't carded... though that makes me fear I look even older. x_x Do you feel confident in a bathing suit? Fuck no. Have you ever had a concussion? Once. Sucked major dick. Do you like hot tubs? For a little bit. Do you know anyone who is battling cancer? Not currently, at least I think. Have you ever donated money to a charity? Yeah. Do you like the color lime green? Sure. Do you wish you could change something about your hair? Can I dye it already please????? Have you ever gotten a makeover? No. Do you think the minions from Despicable Me are cute? They annoy the fuck outta me. Did you have a Gameboy as a child? Yes; still have it, actually. Have you ever auditioned for a talent competition? No. Do you like the Silent Hill movies? Seeing this question made me so happy asjfjfweowq. The first is good, though I had some complaints about the altering of the plot. I warmed up to it quite a bit with time, though; I was just biased towards the game, which I still do like more. The second is... objectively trash as a plot, all the hell over the place. I think the entire fandom agrees with that. The only things I really enjoyed about it were of course Red Pyramid/Pyramid Head and the carousel scene with Dark Alessa. Tell me something you’ve been made fun of for in the past. I'm always on some type of technology. I fucking hate it. Do you support war? I'm a pacifist. Guess. Do you send messages on Facebook a lot? Nope; if I do it's only ever to Girt, really. Do you use the word “hello” daily? No. Who’s the biggest hugger you know? Idk. Where did you get your worst scar from? I can't see it, but I'm assuming the one from my surgery. Do you like Coco Pebbles the cereal? I used to find them okay, but haven't had 'em in years. Do you stick your tongue out often in pictures? No. Honestly have you ever purchased something, wore it, and then returned it? Maybe? I don't think so, though... I'd feel too bad. At least me now would. Which one of your family members are you closest to? My mom. If chocolate was an illegal drug - would you be a drug addict? I assume you mean it became illegal just the way is/with no new risks to it? In that case, I wouldn't be an addict or go out of my way to get it, but if there was a piece of chocolate easily available to me, yeah, I'd eat it. Would you rather have name brand shoes or name brand clothes? Shoes, because they're obvs. gonna be of better quality and I care about walking comfortably more that "fancy" clothes. Which is worse: onion breath or garlic breath? Oh idk, both are. Ew. When was the last time you got a shot? When I was at the dentist a few months back and they had to fill a cavity, thus I had numbing shots. They had to give me way more than usual, though, which I thought was odd. I just wasn't getting numb enough until like, 6+ in. Are you proud of your parents? I'm very proud of how Dad has developed as a person, and I have immense respect for my mom for how she works her ASS off to keep her kids safe, healthy, and well-provided for. I could never do all she does. Do you say “soda” or “pop”? "Soda." Are you shy about singing in front of people? YES. Which is better: orange or grape soda? Orange; not a fan of grape soda. Who was the last person in your house who isn’t family? Good question.

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