#but I’ve had people die 3 springs in a row so this year will be no different

[southislandwren]

Breaking my complaining silence to say I’ve been making more insta posts lately but it’s mostly bc I have a feeling who will die this spring and I need as many pics of him up on the internet as possible before it happens

[kyotakumrau]

2021.03.09 USEN STUDIO COAST '目黒鹿鳴館GIG' 1st session with Die and Shinya.

As usual the staff prepared two tables and chairs for the talk event (this time high tables). Fujieda started with greetings, introductions and asked for the applause for the band members.

Shinya and Die came on stage! 💗❤️

Shinya wore brown coat, he sat next to Takabayashi. His pinkish hair looks nice!

Die had very majestic look, starting with his crazy hair, sunglasses and a suit/jacket. He sat at the right table next to F.

S: I'm Shinya, hello.

D: I'm Die. It's been a while.

To start with F asked them how they feel about being in Coast again. S said it's been 2 years since the last time, he even took a picture of the venue board. D said it really brings him back, he feels it's like coming home for them, they play at Coast so often, he wants to play there again soon.

F: usually the audience area is packed, so this feels quite unusual.

D: it's probably the 1st time I see it like that.

Next F asked them about playing at Rock-May-Kan. S said it didn't feel like it's been long time as he went there few times in private. F asked him about the songs he had to practice with Toshiya, but S had remembered them soon. D said he didn't feel the same excitement as when playing normal show, but he was really happy to rehearse and play together with the rest of members, and also to see all staff members again. He could feel things are finally moving forward.

Next they looked at the new leaflet with the Oboro promo photo published today.

S: there's one extra person.

😂

D: when you just look quickly it's like 'did Kyo got long hair?'. Normally you wouldn't expect this, to have someone lying down. Quite a challenge.

F: for someone looking the first time, I wonder what did they think.

D: this image is connected to the PV.

F: Kyo said earlier it's refreshing

D: which part of it???!

They chuckle at the Taiyou no Ao remix comparison.

D: it was more like filming the PV for Zan way back, with all the blood and being dirty.

F: what do you think S, same idea as before?

S: the world in the video also comes from the にくづきに龍 (月+龍=朧) combination.

D asked what they mean about it and F told him about S earlier talking about the kanji parts.

D: ...はい。・...okay?!

F: Like Taiyou no Ao.

D: ...はい。・...okay?!

F: How do you feel about first show in a year and 3 months?

D: ...how to say... we can't do normal concerts yet, last year we plated wothout audience, but doing nothing in this period didn't feel good, we wanted to try something. Like entering the ring (踏切??)

S then said he was informed about the new SOGAI concert by the official LINE announcement😂

S: I've never been to Tokyo Garden Theater, neither to perform or see someone, so it will be first time for me.

T: it's a new venue.

F: it's quite big.

D: Anything after that show?

T: Like?

D: Like a tour? No other announcements?

😂we want that too!!!!

Next, F moved the talk to the merchandise topic.

F: how's the bag, S?

S: I've used it for the first time today, everything fit perfectly.

T showed us the hoodie as he was wearing it - he said it was perfect because he's cold.

D: If he's cold we should give him the thingy!

(the thingy aka rechargeable heat pack/kairo)

F: ah I have it here somewhere... (searches in the bag)

D: didn't bring it?!

F: got it!💦

D: let's give it to T, he's cold!

They talked about the safe 40℃ level, then S said his recommendation is usb power strip.

F said it's perfect when fans travel as they can charge various devices at once when staying in a hotel. Talking about travel - he also recommended travel pouch, there's a hook so you can hang it, even in shower.

T (carefully): even in shower?

F: maybe not shower, but in the room.

D: with key holders, Shinya looks exactly alike.

S (counters quickly): everyone does

😂

S: but why is everyone doing this pose? (He mimics the head being very low)

D: true😆 you should try, it's like a magic trick, can you do it?

S: I won't.

D: let's try backstage.

😂

F also recommended the pass case, that it's good to hold your commuter pass and D started to joke about the commuter pass and going to Tokyo show😆

After that they moved to the questions from fans.

F: hayfever is a very popular topuc this time.

D said he doest have it and he also asked bout what symptoms people have, when they start etc. He said he's good but he's aware that for Kyo it's quite severe, they have to be careful planning recording in spring, nasal congestion can affect singing a lot.

F: Kaoru also has it, gets runny nose etc

S: For me not even a drop (he said 1 milliliter

)

D: you should really get it once.

D: "to S, happy birthday! Each year you're becoming cooler and cooler!"

S: ...you're just making that up.

D: "You're the best, lav ya. From Die from DIR EN GREY."

😆

S is the only one without an event on his birthday.

D: why wasn't there one?

F: we couldn't book a venue.

D: not even in Okinawa or something?

T: Okinawa...

D: it could work?

S: how is it possible that for 23 years there was never available venue for my birthday?

next they talked a bit about past events.

D brought a memory from the time when they went to play in Australia, they had teouble with their return flight to Japan. They were supposed to leave and arrive in Japan in the evening and start rehearsal for Budokan, but the flight got cancelled. They arrived in Japan in the morning and started rehearsal the same day.

F: it's good that you made it.

D: there are cancellations and delays when traveling abroad. And lost luggage.

F: the story from Mexico.

D: yeah, never put valuable items in the suitcase. And we have to be careful when planning flights.

F: We were in Mexico for your birthday.

D: I remember there was an interesting cake, like a ring, it didn't have a strong taste...

F: so it was bad?

D: you're so rude.

F: and there was S birthday when we were in Australia.

S: I don't remember which city.

F: a solo concert?

D: I think it was a festival.

S: I don't remember anything.

Next they talked about the age of one staff there.

They also talked about Eva, S watched just a bit, D is not interested.

D: do you watch movies?

S: no

D: are 2h too long for you?

S: yeah, I prefer dramas.

D: so 3h gonna be out of question?

S: impossible.

D: 90mins?

S: eh... maybe somehow.

D: I'm gonna look for a good suspense under 90 mins, you definitely raise the bar high!

D: ...ah this q is for/about Toshiya. about the seat arrangement when we travel.

They talked about their seating preferences, S clearly favors window side. They usually don't check the seats carefully, besides S, and once D just sat at window in the row they reserved. S then: you're in my seat (そこ、俺の...), D: sorry(ごめん)💦

😂

S also said he's not bothered by window because he doesn't really stand up that much (even on 6h flights) and he thinks it's harder for the aisle person to let window person out.

D: so it's okay if I put lots of stuff there, an open bento on the table, a drink in a cup, stretch my legs etc, no problem?

S: it's fine.

D: よし・got it！😆

D: "what do you want to do after the state of emergency is lifted?"

S: I don't go out much so nothing will change for me.

D: right. There are not many restrictions.

F said the most troublesome part is that most shops close at 8pm so going shopping is difficult.

F: "who in the band hates to lose the most?"

D (pointing at S): of course S. He even said that he doesn't get a drop of runny nose never getting sick (S just nods it's true). Like catching a cold is a big deal. So you never get a fever? Even low one like 37℃？

S: I don't.

D: you're lying right?

S:I don't.

D: you should really get one once.

But then S also nominated D as someone who hates losing, describing D's reactions when playing bowling or darts, F and T agreed with him😆

F: we have time for one more last q.

S: "I like the old logo on the badge"

(F picked it up to show it on the screen)

S: "do you have any memories related to the old logo?"

D talked about the indies bands priting stickers like that treating it like business cards.

S: Do you remember the first B&W logo?

D nods

S: do you really or you just nod?

D: I talked about it a lot before (previous event).

S: Really? I didn't know.

F: about this and your make up spot.

D: in Heartland (in Nagoya).

S: I remember that.

Then F talked about the announcements again and then asked them for a comment to fans.

Shinya: Thank you for coming. There is also the 2nd session, I don't know if I'm coming to it, but people who are coming please enjoy the event, you will have to leave the venue and enter again after waiting an hour.

Die: Thank you for coming this afternoon. Every time when I stand on a stage in Shinkiba I see the view of fans full of energy and excitement, I want to play again soon and see such view. For now we will do our best for the concert in Tokyo Garden Theater. I hope to see you there. Thank you so much for today.

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Eleven: Water Under the Bridge (Finale)

a/n: welcome back my loves <3 It’s so weird to think that this is the final chapter of YBMH and I’m definitely having a lot of feelings about it (denial, mostly). I want to say a huge thank you from the very bottom of my heart for sticking with this story and these characters that I love so much. I’ve had the most fun over the past few months talking to some of you and hearing your thoughts; I cherish it more than you’ll ever know. With all of that said, I’m going to miss this era so so much but I would still love to hear from you lovelies, so please feel free to drop by my inbox and let me know what you thought of this series!! Feedback, criticism, all of it is welcome :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, angst

Word Count: 6.7k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten

January, 2018

A strand of hair tickles Harry’s nose and his eyes flutter open. The faint sound of car horns and traffic outside reminds him of his location when his memory fails. He gently slips out of the bed and tiptoes over to the window, careful not to wake the girl sleeping soundly next to him. A thick layer of snow blankets every building and surface in New York City as far as the eye can see, and the grey sky above signals another storm on its way. 

I’m going to die of hypothermia, Alani shivers, nursing her steaming cup of tea as she walks away from the office window and takes a seat behind her desk. Even after living in the city for a year, she still hadn’t adjusted to the cold weather and feared that she never would. Her boyfriend had joked on numerous occasions that you can take the girl out of the island, but you can’t take the island out of the girl. 

“Vanessa’s on line three,” her assistant calls from the doorway. 

“Thanks,” Alani nods before bringing the phone to her ear. “So, what did you think?”

“It was brilliant,” the editor admits. “Insightful, witty. I think they’ll love it,”

Alani smiles and spins in her seat to face the window again. “St. James has been on my ass about this piece for weeks. I hope it’ll shut him up,”

“It will, trust me. Hey, I gotta go, but I sent the revision notes and we can discuss more later,”

“Great, thank you so much. See you at dinner,”

“Ta-ta.”

Alani reaches for a pen and scribbles a reminder onto a pink post-it note nearby. 

Bloody five-star hotel, you’d think they could afford decent pens.  Harry grumbles to himself, shaking the ballpoint to no avail. 

“Where are you going?”

Harry freezes in his tracks and turns to the brunette stretching out her tired limbs. He has to clear his throat to keep from saying the wrong name. 

“Just a quick walk,” he explains with a tight lipped smile. “Go back to bed.” 

She flashes a wide grin and snuggles back into the covers, but he secretly hopes that she’s gone by the time he returns. 

The snow crunches under Harry’s feet and he digs his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He had never been very fond of the cold, but he did have to admit that Central Park looked unbelievably beautiful in the winter. His phone buzzes inside his pocket and he digs it out to read the message. 

Mitch: Me and Sarah are going to Bisous in ten. Meet us?

Harry: See you there. 

********

“French is such a pretentious language,” Maleah scoffs, taking a bite of her pastry. “But I’ll be damned if I have to give up my chocolate croissants,”

Alani chuckles lightly and traces the restaurant’s logo of a red kiss printed on her napkin. Going to Bisous at least once a day had become a tradition during her best friend’s visits. 

“I’ll have to smuggle a real one back for you and then you can tell me if this one’s the real deal,”

“When are you going, again?”

“Next month,”  

Maleah wiggles her brows. “Oooh, Valentine’s Day? Are you taking Mason with you?”

“No,” Alani says casually. “It’s for work,”

“Well, who says you can’t mix business and pleasure?”

“Literally everyone.”

“Okay,” Maleah sighs, patting her full stomach. “Let’s go now before I get sleepy.”

The two friends make their way out of the busy restaurant and Alani’s shoulder brushes someone next to her. 

“Sorry.” she apologizes, making brief eye contact with the other person before doing a double take. 

Mitch purses his lips and turns his head back to the other girl at his arm while Maleah drags Alani out the door. 

********

“I mean, what the hell was that? I could barely keep my drum kit together,” Sarah laughs gently, sipping her coffee. 

“Cause of death: rocking too fucking hard,” Mitch shrugs. “There are worse ways to die,”

Harry stirs his black coffee with a spoon and watches the mini whirlpool grow. “Rob said you could feel it in the balcony, too,”

“I’m surprised you didn’t die,” Mitch pokes. “Mr. defective lungs,”

“Heyyy, I can’t help the asthma thing, alright?”

“Well it’s the last night,” Sarah chimes in. “Are we gonna try to beat the Kiwi record and go for four times in a row?”

Harry shrugs, a soft grin on his lips. “Dunno. Maybe if it feels right,”

“I say we cut out the middleman and just bulldoze MSG ourselves. What difference does it make if the fans tear the house down or if we do?” Mitch suggests. 

“Oh yeah,” Harry nods. “I’m sure Irving would love that.”

“Some food for thought.”

The trio finish their breakfasts and excitedly continue their conversations about the impending show, but the entire time, Mitch is haunted by the knowledge of Alani’s presence in the city. He debates telling Harry, but is suddenly reminded of the intense aftermath of the pair’s falling out. 

********

“Where’s Alani?”

“Don’t fuckin’ say that name to me ever again.” 

Mitch’s brow furrowed. “What’s going on?”

And with a simple question, anger had subsided into grief. Mitch still didn’t  know all of the details surrounding their split, but he had pieced together sufficient bits from Jeff and, in part, from the lyrics Harry penned in the following weeks. The slump had lasted through the fall and winter of that year, but as spring rolled around and the album’s release drew closer, Harry pulled himself together enough to promote and tour. It felt good to be on the road, and he found himself revitalized by the energy of those who came to support. Tour itself had been relatively intimate, as he had actively decided to play smaller venues than the sold out stadiums he was accustomed to, but the enthusiasm of the crowds hadn’t changed from his band days. As Harry occupied his attention with music, Hawaii grew smaller and smaller in the back of his mind. Eventually, it dwindled into a dull ache at the center of his chest, felt only on particularly long nights coaxed with a little bit of alcohol in his bloodstream. For now, he tried to focus on his last show at Madison Square Garden. 

********

Alani’s stomach turns. Had she really seen Mitch or had it been a remarkable doppelgänger? She hoped it was the latter, knowing that if he really was in New York City, Harry wasn’t far behind. This was by no means the first time she had been reminded of her summer love turned sour, but it stung just as much every time. The first incident was last April when she turned on the T.V. only to find Harry performing one of his new songs on Saturday Night Live. It had resulted in the loss of her favorite mug as it shattered against the hardwood floor in her apartment. Since that day, Alani had seen his face on countless billboards in Times Square and habitually asked taxi drivers to change the radio station or turn it off entirely. After a while, she had gotten better at dealing with the sinking feeling whenever he was mentioned, it was easier to detach feelings for someone who lived on a screen. Running into Mitch, however, had blasted a hole straight through the fourth wall that Alani had erected,  and she knew that there was absolutely no way she could cope with a similar encounter from Harry. 

“Oh shit,” Maleah gasps softly, looking through the windshield at the hundreds of people lined up on the pavement outside of Madison Square Garden. 

“What?” Alani asks, head still spinning. 

Her best friend immediately turns to her with a nervous smile and shrugs. “Oh it’s nothing. Hey do I have something in my teeth?”

Alani glances out the window behind Maleah and her eyes bulge. “Woah, what’s happening there?”

“Oh it’s probably, like, Lady Gaga or something. Anyways, look at this random text I got the other day.”

But it wasn’t “Lady Gaga or something.” The marquee reads “Harry Styles—SOLD OUT” in bold lettering. Alani retches into her bag. 

********

“Oh, for fucks saaake!” Harry shouts playfully, the sound of his obscenities echoing throughout the large venue. 

Mitch and Adam chuckle beside him and continue setting up their equipment while Sarah offers a comedic “badum-tss” on her drum set. 

“Okay then at that point, stage lights will come down and it’s ‘Meet Me in the Hallway’,” the technical director speaks into his earpiece.

Harry nods and watches the screen behind him roll through the animation that will play during the song. 

“Alright, then it’s—”

“Wait,” Harry interjects over the mic. “Sorry, can we run it?”

“Run ‘Meet Me’?”

“Yeah,”

Mitch tenses listening to the conversation that filters through his own inner ear piece, but he continues fiddling with the strings of his guitar.  

“Running ‘Meet Me’,” the director affirms. “Sarah, stand by.”

Harry’s eyes dart over to Mitch and he nods as a sign to begin. The guitarist clears his throat and strums the opening chords. 

Meet me in the hallway 

“M’gonna go wait in the hall…”

Meet me in the hallway 

“Give you some space to think and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

I just left your bedroom 

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

Give me some morphine 

“I hope you got all the material you wanted.”

Is there any more to do?

“Please don’t go.”

Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor 

Maybe we’ll work it out

********

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Maleah offers. “I can catch a return flight tomorrow,”

Alani sits up in her bed and shakes her head. “No, Mi, it’s okay. I’ll be fine,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s probably just a stomach bug or something,”

Maleah gives her friend a tight squeeze and pulls away to read her face. “Let me know if you need anything, I’ll come right back,”

“Thank you,” Alani says, forcing a smile. “I’m so sorry to put a damper on your last day.”

“Nah, there’s nothing to worry about. Feel better soon, Nani.”

The door closes softly and Alani burrows deeper into the covers. She tries to bury the emotion back under a lock and key, but a gentle sob fights its way up her chest. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, she cries, but maybe it was. Just as the sun rises and sets, so had Harry entered and exited her life, and maybe that’s exactly how it was meant to be. After all, Alani had gotten exactly what she wanted, hadn’t she? So why does it still hurt? 

The snow falls gently outside of her window, but the entire scene blurs into shades of white and grey behind her tears. It had snowed just like this on the day she moved to the city. Shortly after the article about Harry had been published by a small gossip site, Alani had contacted the publishers and threatened litigation if they didn’t take it down. Unsurprisingly, they had also been contacted by Columbia Records and thus, the piece was removed that same day. Despite the quick turnaround, Rolling Stone had caught wind of the storm brewing on social media and reached out to Alani a few days later. They had been impressed that the elusive Harry Styles granted her an interview, but they didn’t push the matter much further. Instead, they had offered her one piece of her choosing to prove herself. If the reviews were favorable, she would be given a regular contributor spot, unpaid of course. They would re-evaluate at the beginning of the new quarter and negotiate from there. When January of 2017 rolled around, Alani’s writing was making surprising waves in the Rolling Stone community, so she had been hired on as a junior writer and assistant to the Editor in Chief. The pay wasn’t great, but it was a leap in the right direction. 

Despite everything that had changed in a year, a string of random letters on a building that Alani passed a million times had brought her emotions right back to the day she had tried so hard to forget. Her phone buzzes under the covers and she reaches out a hand to locate it. Her editor’s name appears and she answers it quickly. 

“Hello?”

“Darling, hello! Where are you?”

“Oh my god,” Alani groans. “Vanessa I’m so sorry,”

“Is everything okay?”

Alani sits up and clears her throat. “I have food poisoning,”

“Christ, from where?”

“Bisous,”

Vanessa sighs. “Poor thing. Okay, no worries we’ll just reschedule,”

“I’m so sorry, I’ll make it up to you,”

“No need to be sorry, get some rest and we’ll catch up later!”

The call ends and Alani gawks at the time. 7:30 already?  She slumps back under the covers and sifts through her social media, wincing when she sees several of her friends posting about the line outside of Madison Square Garden. No, Alani decides sternly when the sudden urge to go stirs in the pit of her stomach, absolutely no fucking way. 

********

“10 minutes!”

Harry scans the crowd from the monitor backstage. He pinches his lower lip between his index finger and thumb as the nerves settle in. 

“The house is packed,” Jeff comments with a hand on the singer’s shoulder. “And there’s still a crowd outside,”

“We did it?”

“You did it,”

So why does it still hurt? 

“Thanks for everything,” Harry says, bringing his manager in for a hug. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Jeff pats Harry on the back. “All in a day’s work for the dream team.”

Before heading out, Harry stops one of the crew members and asks if any of the guests on his list have arrived yet. Names are read off, friends from different inner circles over the years, but there’s one name in particular that isn’t called. He offers a thumbs up and a forced grin before making his way to the stage.

It always surprises the technical crew at every venue that Harry has specific lighting requests for the house. Performers had their individual preferences, this wasn’t unusual, but no one made a bigger deal about being able to see the crowd like Harry did. He enjoyed being able to see each person and connect with them, especially when performing an album that was as personal as this one. But in every sea he searched, one face was always missing. Tonight’s audience, much to his disappointment, was no different. 

The crowd cheers as “Sweet Creature” fades out and the lights on stage dim. More than half of the show has already gone by and they’ve reached the point that is always a little harder to get through. Harry takes a swig from his water bottle and clears his throat to fight the lump that forms. He breathes in deeply and “Meet Me in the Hallway” begins, but no matter how hard he tries to focus on the technical aspects of his performance, it’s nearly impossible not to get dragged back into the moment when the song was written. 

“I should go back,” 

“H, I don’t know if that’s such a good—”

“I have to go back.” 

And so he had. After two hours of pacing the airport lounge, Harry had jumped into an Uber and sped back to the hotel. It had taken another agonizing twenty minutes to explain his situation to the front desk workers and retrieve his old room key, but it was no use. He was too late. The bed was still unmade, but there was no sign of Alani save for the faint scent of Baby Honey and a gold necklace tucked away between the sheets. 

The flight back to the mainland had already departed by the time Harry stumbled through the hotel lobby, and there wouldn’t be another one for three more hours. In the meantime, he decided to get some fresh air and clear his mind, hoping all the while that he would find Alani at the edge of the beach waiting to run back into his arms. She never did, and he was left with all the words he wished he had said. 

I walked the streets all day 

Running with the thieves 

‘Cause you left me in the hallway 

Just take my pain away 

Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor 

Maybe we’ll work it out

********

“Great show,” praises Rob Sheffield, author of one of Harry’s favorite books, Love is a Mix Tape. “Drummer’s incredible,”

Sarah beams and Harry flashes her a grin. “Thanks. It’s Sarah’s band, really. I’m just the frontman,”

“Well she kicked ass. All of you did, and I can tell by the way the floor was shaking that I’m not the only one who thought so.”

“Thank you so much, that means a lot.”

More guests filter in and congratulate Harry and the rest of the band, but while he sincerely appreciates all of the love, he can’t help the way his eyes flicker to the door every once in a while in the hope that someone else will straggle in. He slowly loses that hope when the room empties and the night drags on. 

********

This isn’t ethical, Alani chastises herself, this is wrong on every level and you’re gonna pay. She runs her fingers over the Rolling Stone press badge in her hand and stares at the marquee towering over her. What the fuck are you doing? 

“Excuse me!” Alani calls when she sees an employee slip through a side door. “Hi, I know I’m really late but I’m actually here with Rolling Stone,”

The blonde-haired woman blinks and scans over the badge with an unamused look on her face. 

“Nice try,”

“No, wait,” Alani begs. “I have to get in there, please—”

“You and every other girl within a twenty-five mile radius.”

Alani takes a deep breath and re-groups. “You don’t understand. I really need to get back there, I’m working on an important piece,”

As the struggle continues, another woman in stiletto heels exits through the side door with a clipboard in tow. 

“My name is Alani Hale, see? Please just—”

“Wait,” the woman with the clipboard intervenes. The name sounded strangely familiar, probably from the blacklist, in which case security would need to be notified. “What did you say your name was?”

Alani holds her badge out and swallows hard. “Alani Hale, junior writer for Rolling Stone.”

The woman checks through the blacklist but the name isn’t registered. She does a cursory glance over the V.I.P section and her finger lands on a note that reads “Mahealani ‘Alani’ Hale—Code Carolina: escort backstage and inform Mr. Styles immediately.”

“Follow me, please,”

Alani trails behind, doing her best to keep up with the long strides of the woman with the clipboard.

 “Marta to security, I have a Code Carolina,” she murmurs into her ear piece. “Repeat, I have a Code Carolina.”

Alani’s heart races as they zig-zag through the arena. Did Harry know that she was coming? Had Mitch told him that they saw each other at Bisous? The answer was no, Mitch hadn’t told and Harry didn’t know. He had only hoped. Unbeknownst to Alani, her name was printed on the Madison Square Garden list and on every list of every show in all the countries scheduled. Through Paris and all through Rome, Harry had looked for her face in the crowd and he dreamed that one day his efforts wouldn’t be in vain. 

“Wait here,” Marta instructs, leading Alani to a back room with mirrors, a couple of couches, and a clothing rack. “Someone will be with you shortly.”

Before she can ask any questions, Marta is gone and the sound of her heels echo down the hall. Alani takes a deep breath and her lungs are immediately filled with the familiar scent of vanilla. Her eyes carefully rake over the scene and land on a familiar white shirt hanging on the rack and the words “Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey.”

“Thief,”

“I meant to return it.”

Alani spins on her heel and Harry stands with his fists shoved deep inside the pockets of his flared pants, eyes cast down at the floor. She tugs on the sleeves of her coat and offers a shy smile. 

“It’s okay, looked better on you anyway.”

A brief silence follows and they size each other up like it’s a gunfight, each waiting to see who will draw first. His hair is longer and curlier, Alani notices, chest and shoulders broader, too. But there’s a familiarity in his creased brow and in the heart shaped curve of his cupid’s bow. Harry does his own inventory; dark, almond shaped eyes, check. Round face, cinnamon skin, check and check. Her long, wavy locks are now shoulder length, but he’d recognize the scent of Baby Honey anywhere. The two are absorbed in their own silent assessments for a moment longer, but Alani quickly gets the urge to flee after she counts too many similarities between this Harry and the one that left her with a broken heart. 

“I should go,” she croaks, taking a step back. “I shouldn’t have come—”

“Why did you?” Harry asks earnestly. 

Alani tugs at a loose thread on her sleeve before crossing her arms. “Saw your name outside and got curious. For a while there, I started to think that maybe I imagined you,”

Harry doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge that he had haunted her as much as she had plagued him. He had spent so long believing that he meant nothing to her, but nevertheless, a part of him left room for her return. 

“You did, this is a hologram projection,”

Alani smiles and her shoulders relax at his humor. It really was him. 

“Did you enjoy—”

“I didn’t see the show—” they speak at the same time, eager words overlapping. 

“Oh,” Harry laughs softly. “You didn’t miss much,”

Alani shakes her head and takes a single step forward. “No, that’s not true. I’m sure it was amazing,”

Harry offers a coy grin, the shadow of a dimple on his left cheek. One hand emerges from his pocket and his knuckle brushes against the tip of his nose. Alani catches sight of the silver rose on his finger and she still remembers how it feels under the pad of her thumb. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks softly, pulling her from her reverie. 

“What?”

“Have dinner with me?”

Alani blinks, her throat suddenly dry. “Oh. Well I don’t know, I don’t wanna interrupt—”

“Never an interruption,” Harry assures her. 

She nods and he takes a step back. 

“M’gonna go change,” he explains. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“What, you don’t wear custom Marc Jacobs suits to dinner?” She teases. 

He grins, amused, and continues backing away towards the door before correcting her. “It’s Gucci.”

Alani rolls her eyes and he disappears into the hallway. 

When Harry reemerges in a beanie, puffy coat, and light wash denim jeans, he leads them through a series of tunnels and exits. 

“Where are we going?” Alani asks, bracing herself for the snow outside. 

“It’s a surprise.” he offers and she doesn’t fight him on it.

********

“We’re not eating here?” 

A soft smile falls on Harry’s lips. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her incessant questioning. 

“No,”  he replies, opening the passenger door with one hand and passing her the bag that contains their dinner. “Too crowded,”

“Oh,” 

It made sense that Harry would want to keep a low profile and avoid any possible paparazzi sightings of the two of them, but it still felt strange to worry about such things after they had lived so carefree in Hawai’i. But that was then, and this was now, things had inevitably changed. 

“D’you wanna play some music?” Harry asks, settling behind the wheel. The parallels between this moment and their first excursion together make her chest tighten. 

“How about,” Alani starts. “Your album? Since I didn’t get to hear it live,”

Harry’s breathing hitches. “Well, I dunno—”

“Please?”

He meets her pleading eyes momentarily and, against his better judgment, agrees. 

“What’s it called?” she questions. 

“It’s just my name,”

“Self-titled, very classy. I like it,”

“I thought about calling it Sign of the Times,” Harry reveals. “But it’s already been done before,”

Alani hums. “Prince,”

“Yeah,” he nods. “But then I also thought about going with ‘Pink,’ because, you know, when in doubt—”

“Go with the pink one,” they say in unison and Alani smiles softly. How had he remembered that?

“And it’s the only true rock ‘n roll color,” she continues. 

Harry beams. “Exactly. But then Jeff suggested that we just go with the name. Simple, but effective,”

“Okay, so now that we’ve got the background,” Alani pokes. “And you’ve sufficiently distracted me, can I listen now?”

He swallows and checks the GPS, still twenty-five minutes to go. 

“How about we hold off,” he suggests. “Just for now so we can listen to the full thing and really soak it in?”

Alani backs off. “Alright, deal.”

She presses shuffle on the playlist of her frequently played songs for the month and immediately regrets doing so. Clearing her throat, she goes to press skip but Harry stops her. 

“S’a good one.” he says gently, so Alani lets Adele fill the awkward space. 

If you’re gonna let me down 

Let me down gently don’t pretend 

That you don’t want me 

Our love ain’t water under the bridge

********

Harry opens the passenger door and Alani steps out, her eyes squinting to make out any recognizable landmarks in their surroundings. They remain a comfortable two feet apart and make their way to the entrance of what appears to be some sort of greenhouse. Alani is filled with more confusion, but she doesn’t ask further questions until they reach the white double doors. 

“What?” Harry questions. “Never been to the New York Botanical Garden?”

Alani’s eyes widen. “The—wait, you—we’re?”

“After you,” he chuckles lightly, opening the doors. 

“Are we even allowed? I mean is it open?”

“I pulled some strings,”

She enters cautiously, immediately met with an archway of blush colored flowers and string lights that takes her breath away. A long, narrow pond in the center reflects the image back and creates a kaleidoscope of pink, green, and golden hues. 

“How did you,” Alani begins, at a complete loss for words. “Who are you?”

Harry nods in the direction of an adjacent hallway. “There’s a ballroom set up for a wedding tomorrow night, but Jim said we could crash as long as we clean up after ourselves,”

“Jim?”

“The director.”

“Of course.” 

Sure enough, round tables with cream colored tablecloth and elaborate floral centerpieces are arranged around the room. A delicate, yet undoubtedly expensive, chandelier twinkles in the center of the room and casts such a warm glow that Alani momentarily forgets about the snow outside. 

“Dig in,” Harry instructs, setting the pasta on the table in front of them. 

Alani sits and gently sheds her winter coat as he does the same. Underneath his jacket, Harry wears a yellow shirt that catches her eye with the words “treat people with kindness” printed in black lettering. She freezes when she spots a gold chain with a sun and moon pendant nestled comfortably between above the words.

“How is everyone?” Alani questions politely to shift her attention. “Mitch, Tom, Jeff,”

“They’re good, yeah,” he nods. “How’re Freddie and your family?”

“They’re fine, and he’s living his blissful little life,”

“Good for him. Miss his cuddles,”

And yours, Harry thinks, but he pulls back. Alani offers a shy laugh and thinks about the elephant in the room yet to be addressed: the break-up. It’s worth discussing, but she sure as hell isn’t going to be the one to bring it up. 

“And how’ve you been?” Harry asks when the silence stretches out for too long. 

Alani chews and ponders the question. “Good. Been working a lot,”

“Where at?”

“Rolling Stone,”

“Really?” he beams. “That’s incredible, congratulations,”

“Thank you,” she replies graciously. 

Harry’s chin rests in his palm and he twirls a noodle around his fork. “So you live here?”

“Yeah, in the Village,”

“Wow. Greenwich Village, a real city-slicker now. Traded Stevie in for the Holland Tunnel?”

A bittersweet smile spreads across Alani’s lips at the memory of her beloved Bronco. “Sadly, yes. And you?”

“Malibu,” Harry divulges. “I hate the cold.”

“It’s not so bad. You can always cuddle up with the giant rats,” she jokes, which makes his nose scrunch.

“I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say that,” 

“Speaking of pretend,” Alani wiggles her brows. “You were in a movie after all,” 

“I was,” 

“I didn’t watch it, sorry,” 

Harry feigns offense and Alani quickly back pedals. “I don’t like war movies!”

“And you hated my guts.” he teases, though it pains him that there might be some truth to his words. 

Alani shakes her head and fights the urge to reach across the table for his hand. “No, not really. It was kind of the opposite, actually.” 

Harry’s eye wanders to the outside of Alani’s wrist and a faint smile creeps across his face when he spots the black outline of a crescent moon. He wonders if there are any new inked designs that he isn’t aware of. Despite all the time that has elapsed, there is a familiarity in her presence that he hadn’t felt even in the comforts of his California residence. It was like kicking off your shoes in the doorway after a long trip. It was like coming home. 

They finish their meal and continue their light-hearted banter into the night. Harry tells his favorite stories from tour and Alani wishes more than anything that she could have been there. She details the events of her own busy life in New York and the highlights of working for Rolling Stone, one of which being the time that she got to meet Stevie Nicks in the flesh. 

“Did you tell her about your car?” Harry presses enthusiastically. 

“No way,” Alani chuckles, draining the last of her drink. “I wasn’t gonna embarrass myself in front of the Supreme,” 

“I think she would’ve found it flattering,” 

“Naming your child after someone is flattering, not a car,” 

Harry shrugs. “I think it’s cute,” 

“Yeah well,” Alani sighs. “You’re not like most people,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

She mulls it over, studying the familiar sea glass irises that she never thought she’d see again. What had Alani meant by that statement? Truthfully, she didn’t know if she could put it into words, nor had she meant to say them in the first place. But something about Harry always made her feel brave, like she could speak her mind uncensored and he would understand without even trying. 

“I just meant that you’re, you know,” she starts. “Not judgemental. Like, I could tell you that I think I’m part alien and you’d probably try to help me find my home planet,” 

Harry laughs and leans forward with his elbows on the table, an unspoken challenge for Alani to continue her thoughts. 

“You make people feel seen and heard,” she says finally with a wistful look in her eye. “I mean, why do you think all those people lined up to see you tonight?” 

The last part of her statement is a deflection from what she really wants to say, which is that Harry makes her feel seen and heard. Despite all the time and space between them, it was still true and it terrified her. There was only so much bravery that Harry’s presence could evoke. The mood shifts suddenly when Alani’s phone buzzes and the name “Mason” with a pink heart emoji lights up the screen next to her glass of water. Harry hadn’t meant to look and he deeply regrets that he did. 

“You have a boyfriend,” he comments dejectedly, and though he hadn’t meant it to be accusatory, all words carry the sting of judgment when falling on guilty ears. 

“Oh, and I’m sure you’ve stayed celibate this entire time,” Alani bites back. 

Harry’s brow furrows. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”

“I’m sorry, this was a mistake,” she apologizes, standing with her coat. 

“Wait,” he jumps up. “What just happened?”

“I have to go—”

“Just stop for a minute, please,”

Alani stops in her tracks and turns back to face Harry slowly. His jaw is tight and the crease between his eyebrows is deeper than she remembers. 

“I’m sorry,” she begins carefully. “Thank you for tonight, but I really shouldn’t be here—”

Harry’s eyes clamp shut and he runs a frustrated hand through his messy curls.  

“Can you stop acting like you’re doing me a favor by leaving and just talk to me?”

“What do you want me to say?” Alani pushes back. “‘I’m sorry that I saw your name in flashing lights and I got caught trying to spy on you’?”

“Alani—”

“‘I’m sorry that I tried to move on’?”

“Stop apologizing—”

“I’m sorry that I fell in love and fucked it all up because I was afraid and I’m sorry that I betrayed the one person who meant everything to me,”

Silence falls between them and the only sound is the sniffling of Alani’s nose as she tries, and fails, to hold back the emotions that pour over. 

“That’s why I went,” she continues, voice wavering. “Because I’m selfish and I couldn’t stay away. Every single day, I’m reminded of how royally I screwed everything up and it tears me apart, so I went to try to make things right and take some of that pain away. Even though I hurt you and there’s nothing I can ever do to change that,”

Harry swallows hard and his eyes sting, but Alani speaks up again before he can respond. 

“So please,” she begs. “Please, just let me finally do something right by you and let me go,”

He takes a cautious step forward and shakes his head. “I don’t want to,”

They both hold their breaths, anticipating the other person’s next draw. 

“And maybe that makes me selfish too,” Harry adds. “‘Cause I went back that day, back to the hotel,”

Alani blinks. “You did?”

“Yes,” he nods. “Because I wasn’t mad that you published the article, I was scared that it was the only reason you were with me—”

“Harry—”

“But then I realized that I didn’t care,” he laughs dryly. “Because I still loved you, and I figured that having you— having just a little bit of your heart and your attention—was worth it, even if you didn’t really love me back,”

He takes another step forward and the toes of their shoes nearly touch. “And maybe I’m being selfish now by asking you to stay, but you’re not the only one trying to get rid of the pain,”

Alani takes a shallow breath and studies the eagerness in his eyes. The sight makes her chest pound. 

“I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt,” she whispers. “But I meant every word I said, you were everything to me. You were the sun that my life revolved around and I was terrified of losing you because the truth is that I hate the cold, too,”

Harry gently reaches a hand up to her cheek and Alani leans into the warmth of his touch. 

“Can I show you something?”

You and your goddamn surprises. “Yes.”

He leads them down several winding hallways before flicking a light on in the gallery. Alani’s heart stops when she sees it. 

“Not quite as impressive as the real thing,” Harry offers. “But Ms. O’Keeffe did a pretty damn good job,”

An original Georgia O’Keeffe painting of a waterfall, their waterfall, the one that Alani had mentioned all that time ago, is displayed proudly on the wall before them. A replica had hung above the bed they shared on many nights and all at once a faint memory resurfaces. 

“Where did you say the original was?”

“New York Botanical Garden,” 

 “M’gonna take you one day,”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Alani takes a step closer to the artwork and examines the details of the oil on canvas. A few steps behind, Harry is only concerned with her reaction and pays little attention to the piece of art on display. As far as he was concerned, Alani was the only one worth admiring. 

“Do you remember what you told me when I asked why you went to the falls to write?” Alani asks. 

Of course Harry had, but he remains silent to let her continue. 

“You said that you liked going there,” she adds, deliberate. “Because it made you forget about every bad thing that ever happened to you, because none of it was real in comparison to the feeling of standing in front of that waterfall,”

Harry nods gently, but he still doesn’t speak. 

“Do you know what that feeling is called?”

“No,”

“It’s called home,” Alani says softly, turning to face him. “It’s what I felt, what I feel, when I’m with you,”

His breath hitches and he stands frozen as she carefully walks toward him.

“And while we’re making wishes come true,” she smiles delicately. “I never told you what I wished for the day we saw that rainbow,”

“What did you wish for?” Harry searches. 

Alani’s eyes fall to his parted lips. “That you would kiss me.”

His mouth curls at the edges and he releases a long breath. “Think maybe I can deliver on that one, too.”

Harry leans in, ever so slightly, and Alani closes the gap. They had been standing mere inches apart, but the meeting of their lips bridges an entire chasm. Over and over again, like waves against the shore, their mouths collide desperately as they pull each other closer with no intentions of ever letting go. 

********

February 14, 2018

“Comment est le temps?” 

Alani peers up at Harry and shields her eyes from the sun behind his back. “What does that mean?”

He grins softly and kisses the top of her head before taking a seat on the balcony next to her. 

“Means ‘how’s the weather?’,” 

“Oh,” she leans over, lips puckered for a kiss. “Full of perfectly Parisian sunshine,”

“Try sayin’ that ten times fast,”

Alani swipes his pink, heart shaped sunglasses and slips them onto the bridge of her nose with a contented sigh. Ahead, the Eiffel tower stands proudly in the distance and the lenses of her glasses tint the entire scene in a picturesque rosy glow. 

“La Ville de L’amour,” she hums. ���Did I say that right?”

“Oui,”

“Hey, you know what I saw on the room service menu?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, what?”

“Piña coladas,” Alani wiggles her brows. “Think they deliver at midnight?”

He chuckles lightly and his hand takes purchase on her knee. “They better,”

“Never had a Parisian piña colada. Sounds romantic, though.”

“Sure does, sweets.”

Alani stands and reaches for Harry’s hand. He accepts and rises to his feet, pulling her close. Below, the sounds of the city serenade them as they gently sway in the chilly breeze. When Harry feels Alani shiver, he hugs  her to his chest and rests his chin comfortably on the top of her head. She feels his steady heartbeat against her cheek and smiles softly, fingertips smoothing up and down his back. 

“Are you ready for Valentine’s Day surprise number one?” he asks, pulling away slightly to meet her eyes. 

She narrows her eyes. “Where are we going?”

Harry pulls back with a mischievous smile, hands still attached to hers, and leads them back inside.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Alani giggles but she doesn’t push. Instead, she happily follows him out of their room, down the hall, and into the bustling streets of Paris. 

We don’t know where we’re going 

But we know where we belong 

And oh we started 

Two hearts in one home 

It’s hard when we argue 

We’re both stubborn 

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature 

Wherever I go, you bring me home 

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road 

You bring me home

[maybe-your-left]

Window Panes - Forever

We made it! 

Here is the Window Panes Masterlist and my Masterlist for all my other fics. 

Summary: A cool breeze nipped at your exposed legs, causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin. You were curled into your comforter, comfy and safe, your cheek pressed against your pillow. Lips pursed and a small amount of drool seeping into the fabric. A creak came from the corner of your room, slightly rousing you from your slumber. You glanced around, your drooping eyelids barely taking in the scene. In your sleep riddled state, you didn't see him, his large figure stalking towards you. The whites of his eyes shining in the moonlight, it wasn't until you felt a palm slide up your side. Following the natural contours of your body, the warmth emanating from it lulling you to sleep once again. A dip in the mattress, the springs creaking under the weight. 

Hot breath fanned over your neck, soft lips pressing onto the back of your ear. A deep hum filling your senses, you sighed. Cuddling back into the figure, wanting to get closer to the warm entity. A low chuckle sounded behind you, and then... 

Nothing. 

TW/CW: This is dark shit, like explicitly horrible shit happens in this. However, I enjoy reading dark fics, and I super loved Stalker Clyde by @clumsycopy​ & was inspired by the oneshot EOS by @thetorturerwrites and I wanted to write something with the sameish tone for Halloween. NSFW, Violence, Murder, Non-con elements, Domestic Violence, Surgery, Explicit sex, oral sex, anal sex, sex toys, miscarriage, mental manipulation, stockholm syndrome, waterboarding, forced feeding, Animal abuse (just a brief mention, I do not go into any detail). 

“Is it-Are we rolling?” 

“Yeah, we’re rolling.” 

“Okay, great,” a sigh of relief. 

You shifted in your chair, smoothing back your hair and itching the microphone that was attached to your shirt collar. Crossing and recrossing your legs, you should’ve worn pants, a skirt was a stupid idea with these boots. You gave a weak smile to the woman across from you, her white teeth flashing the cameras all around the sound stage. 

“Okay,” she looked into the lens, “We are here tonight with one of the victims of the famous 2020 murder trial from New York. She went through over five years of repeated abuse at the hands of her kidnapper, all while he was out killing people around the city.” She turned to you, nodding her head as a show for you to react to the TV. “It’s so nice to have you here, Miss (Y/N).” 

You cleared your throat, shifting once more, “Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.” 

“How are you doing?” 

You bit back a scoff, what a stupid thing to ask. After that introduction, what was she expecting you to say, ‘oh I’m fucking fantastic, I’ve been running since the day he was sent to prison and going through intense psycho-therapy to rid myself of Stockholm syndrome.’. 

“I’m great,” you faked a smile, “Always nice to visit New York again.” 

“I’m sure,” she smiled once more, all you could think about were the wrinkles on her face, the crows feet on the corner of her eyes. She must get botox for working at a news station, there’s no way her skin is on with just natural confidence. 

“When was the last time you visited?” 

You had to stop yourself from blurting out an answer, knowing that this would be on national television. Which you knew federal prisons watched, you wouldn’t want to give away any of your whereabouts since the incident. “Uh-it’s been a few years, I haven’t had much reason to be back. My life has shifted to another part of the world.” 

“That’s fantastic! So you’ve been doing well for yourself the past six years?” 

“Yeah,” you gave a genuine smile, “It’s been tough, no off days really. Trying to gain some normalcy from it all, but I’ve done well. I live relatively fearless, of everything.” 

“We have you here because of a break in your case, as I’m sure you know.” 

You gave a grim nod. 

It’s all anyone wanted to talk about since the story flashed on the news last week. Leaving your once quiet home filled with reporters. You weren’t even home when it happened, out getting groceries, gripping your sons’ hands firmly as you walked the aisles. Letting him pick out some snacks for his lunchbox, like any mother would, when your phone blew up. 

Dozens of messages, calls, articles, you name it. 

All with his face plastered on it. 

Convicted murderer and kidnapper, Kylo Ren, has requested the death penalty. After being found attempting to escape federal prison for the 6th time in the past five years. The convict claims that he ‘would rather die than live another day rotting in his cell’. Dropping all the appeals cases that his lawyers have been pushing since his initial sentencing. 

The former New York state governor was on trial for murderering and disemboweling 9 separate victims and kidnapping an 18-year-old girl. He kept her in his basement as his sex slave for close to 3 years before he married her, the young girl escaping into the streets when she was just 22 years old. Covered from head to toe in gashes, blood, and bruises. Claiming that her husband had beaten her within an inch of her life. 

The subsequent trial lasted three months after his arrest. Leading to him being convicted of first-degree murder, rape, and domestic assault. He was sentenced to life in prison, his then-wife was placed under medical care for an undetermined time. 

Mr. Ren has tried to get his charges appealed since the initial sentencing, claiming that his wife was mentally insane and an unfit witness. Along with other claims that include bribing members of the jury to change their verdicts. The whereabouts of Mr. Ren’s ex-wife is unknown, but he claims that he has kept tabs on her even from ‘the inside’. 

“Your kidnapper is being put on death row, which isn’t allowed in the state of New York. Which means he is being transferred over state lines to another prison. However, it hasn’t been revealed where he is being brought because of people interfering with the swap. How do you feel about that?” 

You chewed your cheek, thinking for a moment. There was no way he did this willingly, Ren was never someone to take the easy way out. The last time you heard from him was three years ago, on your son’s birthday. 

Receiving a call from the prison, the only one you had gotten since the sentencing. 

You remember picking up the phone, throat going dry as you whispered that you accepted the charges. Waiting for the operator to connect you to him, after three long years without his voice. 

“Hello, love.” 

“What,” you whispered, stepping away from the living room of screaming toddlers. Your boyfriend gave you a weird look when your face went white as a ghost. “What do you want, Ren?” 

“How are you? Doing well I hope?” 

You huffed, moving into your kitchen and ripping a bottle of wine out of the fridge. Taking a drink as you snarled, “Just tell me what shitty thing you have to say so I can go back to my family.” 

“Oh, yes. Your family.” he sighed, “And what a sweet family it is… little Luke is how old now? I would think he would be about… three.” 

“How do you know about my son?” 

“Hm.” 

“I don’t think he’s just yours.” 

“You shut your mouth, Luke is not your son. I’m going to hang up if you don’t get to the point.” 

“He’s growing up so well. Hairs getting longer, but I know you like to keep it short. But he complained about his ears last time-so big.” 

You took a deep breath, peaking into the living room. Just in time to see your baby boy, smiling and laughing with his friends. Sitting in your boyfriends’ lap, tearing into presents. His big eyes shone with tears of joy when he ripped through a gift that was his favorite color, red. A squeal so loud it could’ve shattered a window, pulling out a giant plush toy. It was like a penguin-mixed with a little dog, no nose, and some sharp fangs. From one of his favorite TV shows, along with a card and some other little toys. 

“Tell me, love,” he chuckled, “Does he like his present? He sounds over the moon about it through the speaker. What I wouldn’t give to be there to run my fingers through his dark hair, look him in the eyes and tell him how much his father loves him.” 

You made Luke sleep in bed with you that night, holding his small body flush with yours. Running your fingers through his curls as he snored into your chest, small tracks of drool seeping into your nightshirt. Trembling as you stared at the shadows, dancing across the bedroom from the window. Full moon shining, you could’ve sworn the floor was creaking downstairs, the sound of footsteps climbing towards your room rang in your ears. 

You didn’t sleep that night, staring into your son’s face as he woke. Blinking awake to smile as you, his grin reaching across his face. All the way to his ears, large ears, covered by his almost black waves. His long lashes fluttering as he greeted you, “Hi mama.” 

His eyes. 

Fuck. 

One of them your eye color, shining back at you. But the other, it was his. 

Deep auburn, shining in the sunlight. Daring you to challenge him, defy him, prove him wrong, anything that would allow him to unleash whatever hell lived under his skin. Flowed through his blood, tainting every corner of your psyche. His child, the one you hid from the world. Moving as far away as you could, claiming it was your boyfriends’ child. 

But he knew. 

And Luke was starting to notice. 

“I feel,” you looked at your hands, forcing them into fists to stop them from shaking, “Just fine, he’s not in my life anymore. Just a small chapter in the book of my story, I hope that he finds peace. Wherever he goes.” 

“Peace? For a man that almost killed you multiple times?” 

You nodded, “Yeah, I do. I can’t change who he is, or what he’s done. I can just try as hard as I can to move on. And if being on death row will help him find what he’s looking for then I wish him the best of luck.” 

She gave you a weird look, shifting in her seat, “Do you think it says anything about his guilt?” 

“Guilt?” 

“Yes, for the past six years he has never acknowledged that he was guilty. Claiming that the jury and witnesses were bought and that you were mentally unstable-making up half the accusations against him. Do you think that him asking for the death penalty is a way of admitting that he was guilty?” 

“Hell no,” you blurted out, eyes going wide at the camera, “Oh-can I swear? I’m so sorry.” 

She laughed you off, “You’re fine, we can blur it out. But you sound so confident? Do you think he believes that he’s done nothing wrong?” 

Now it was your turn to laugh, “Not to repeat myself but, hell no. That man knows, he’s very conscious of his decisions. Everything has a purpose, everything is done for a reason, Ren doesn’t waste his energy on doing something for no benefit.” 

“What would be the benefit of being put on death row?” 

You sighed, thinking about Ren, trying to get into his mindset to see how he could angle the sentencing changing. Letting out a sharp laugh as you rubbed your eyes, “Well-you said it earlier.” 

She looked at you confused. 

“New York doesn’t have the death penalty.” 

New York doesn’t have the death penalty. 

New York doesn’t have the death penalty. 

New York doesn’t have the death penalty. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered, looking around the room frantically. “Oh my god-oh my god-oh my GOD-New York doesn’t have the death penalty!” you screamed, shooting out of the chair. Grasping the reporter by her shoulders and shaking her violently, “He knew! He knew I was coming here! He’s gonna take him!” 

“Miss (Y/N),” the reporters and security officers yelled. Trying to calm you down, but no, she had said it. 

New York doesn’t have the death penalty. 

You ran from the TV station, hailing a cab on the packed streets. Frantically calling your boyfriend over and over, he was at home. Back in Nevada… where the death penalty is legal, with Luke. He wouldn’t pick up, the dial tone ringing three times before his voice sang through the speaker. 

You wailed in the back of the cab, calling everyone you knew back at home. Asking if they could go get Luke from school, if they had seen him that day. Anything to try prove false the sick feeling in your stomach you knew was true. 

Running through airport security as fast as you could, taking the first flight back home. You prayed on the way that your boyfriend had Luke, safe and sound, back at home. Hopefully, curled in his red blanket, snuggling the stuffed animal he got that faithful birthday. 

Even though no one knew where it came from. 

Luke wouldn’t let you get rid of it. 

Claiming his daddy gave it to him. 

You just let him have it, he was three there was no way he would let you take his toy away once he had held it to his chest. Kissing it with his full lips, dragging it around the house every fucking day. It was his best friend, from the moment he saw it. 

You cried on the plane, realizing too late that the gift was from him. 

His real father. 

Watching after his miracle child. 

When you touched down in Las Vegas, your phone blew up. Your stomach flipping as you read through the messages from your boyfriend, explaining that he let your friend pick Luke up from school. The same friend claimed that your boyfriend had picked him up, Luke’s teacher calling to let you know someone in a black Porsche picked him up. 

Whisking away his child from under your nose. 

You choked on your tears as you read the message from his teacher, telling you how happy Luke was when he left. How he ran into your new boyfriend's arms, like he had known him for his entire life. She told you that he had introduced himself, Ben was just the most amazing father figure she had ever met. Stowing away Luke, surrounded by toys and chocolate when she waved them off. 

After you gathered your luggage you walked towards the cabs out front. Stopping cold in your tracks when you saw a chauffeur holding a sign that said your old name. 

Mrs. Ren. 

You climbed in, body feeling numb. 

Your phone dinged, a picture being sent to you from an unknown number. 

A picture of Luke, held tightly against his real father’s chest. Drifting off to sleep in his strong arms that once choked you to death. 

See you at home love, we miss you. 

-----

I wanted baby luke to say something like ‘my daddy visits me at night’ but it was too on the nose. 

TAGLIST: @finn-ray-nal-beads @millenialcatlady @ohdamnadamm  @daydreamsofren @candycanes19 @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @millenialcatlady @safarigirlsp  @caillea @roanniom @insufferablelust @mrs-zimmerman​ 

[kar-krashew]

life could be a dream [AO3]

Alec navigates first dates, second dates, and general panic, while accidentally making a friend along the way. He's not sure how to feel about any of that, but it seems to be going okay.

Rated T for language and implied sexual content.

@arsenic-creator for you, my lovely ❤ This is an interlude, of sorts, between the Cars AU and the planned Cars 2 AU :D

Alec is ninety percent sure whoever came up with the concept of first dates was a sadist; who else would devise a concept so nerve-wracking and excruciating? Currently, he’s in a random hotel in Spiral Springs, aptly named as he’s spent the last hour spiraling into insanity as he tries to figure out what normal people wear on first dates with people like Magnus Bane. He can’t even call Izzy, because she’s off on some “important work trip” with Jace. (That basically means that they’re going to be mysterious and vague during phone calls the whole time— and that’s only if they answer. He knows better than to ask.)

Thus, Alec has two options: suffer, and show up to his first date with Magnus in his normal shitty worn-out jeans and shirt, or suffer more, and ask someone in town for help. Unfortunately, the only other people available to him are Raphael (Alec is pretty sure he’d be found dead the next morning if he asked Raphael about dating advice), Ragnor (the man dresses like a reclusive British hermit, Alec really doesn’t think asking him will help), and Simon.

Shit.

“Do I really need someone else’s help?” Alec asks his own reflection in the mirror, “I look fine, right? And it’s not like Simon’s got a better idea of how these dates work.”

He looks great, honestly! Probably. He’s fine, as long as he ignores the suspicious fraying of his collar and the faded white patches on his jeans, and okay, he lied, he does not look fine.

Also, Simon’s had like three pretty steady girlfriends already. The kid must be doing something right.

“Shit,” Alec groans again— out loud this time, for intended effect— before taking a deep breath and grabbing his phone.

Fine. If it takes talking to Simon, he’s going to talk to Simon. Besides, how bad could it be?

---

Really bad. Like, really fucking bad; Alec had forgotten how annoying Simon is, and he’s regretting this decision wholeheartedly now.

“No one’s really asked me for dating advice before, you know,” Simon says from where he’s rummaging through Alec’s suitcase, “And of the people I would expect to ask me, you’re, like, last on that list. Not in a bad way or anything, it’s just weird, you know?”

Alec does know. This is the third time Simon has said this.

“Sure, totally,” he grits out, watching Simon carelessly toss his neatly folded clothing onto the hotel bed. Alec is going to have to reorganize the whole case after this is over, because these sorts of things have systems and the kid is ruining it. This was definitely more trouble than it’s worth.

“Yep. Anyway, wow, I’m no expert, but you really don’t have a lot of options in here.” Simon whistles, pauses for a minute, then upends the entire suitcase onto the mattress before Alec can intercept. God, Alec’s going to strangle him. “That’s better! So, you seem to only have, like, one decent button-down, and those always look nice. Maybe pair it with a tighter pair of jeans? Your jacket would look nice with this, too, though I’d leave it out in this weather.” Simon tosses the articles of clothing towards Alec as he speaks, hitting Alec squarely in the face, but he’s already been distracted by something else before he can register the glare being sent his way.

“Okay,” he says after another moment, “Show me what you got.”

Alec’s skeptical, to be frank, but he decides to indulge Simon anyway, so he heads to the bathroom and tries on the outfit and—

Oh.

Simon’s really not bad at this thing. Izzy probably could’ve picked something a little more flattering, but this is way better than whatever Alec was wearing earlier; he didn’t even know he’d remembered to bring this shirt when he’d packed his bags.

“Hey, man, you look great!” Simon beams. “I wasn’t totally sure that would work out, but you look awesome! Magnus is going to love it.”

“Thanks, Lewis,” Alec replies, and he’s surprised to realize he means it. Simon’s grin stretches out wider, somehow, and Alec doesn’t even feel that annoyed.

(Oh no, does this mean he tolerates Simon now?)

“It’s gonna go great, Alec, don’t worry about it,” Simon responds, oblivious to Alec’s internal turmoil— Alec is seriously having a breakdown over the fact that Simon has somehow made it onto the short list of people Alec doesn’t want to punch on sight, because what the fuck does that say about Alec’s standards? His reputation is on the line. “Magnus has lived here for a while, which means I know him well enough to tell you that you make him really happy.” Alec stares at him blankly.

“I— That means a lot, actually,” he manages, then they both just kind of. . . stand there for a minute. Alec isn’t sure how to process the fact that they seem to be having a moment when he was preparing to initiate anti-Lewis measures just seconds ago, so it’s almost a relief when Simon ruins it with the next thing that comes out of his mouth.

“I feel like a proud mother sending her kid to prom. Do I need to give you a sex talk? No one actually gave me that speech when I was younger, but I did improv in highschool, so I could probably work something out.”

Scratch whatever he said earlier; Alec hates him.

---

The trauma Simon inflicts on him is almost completely worth it when Alec sees the way Magnus checks him out for a moment. The other’s standing outside the entrance to some obscure Chinese restaurant, smiling warmly and turning Alec’s knees to jello with his low-cut blue tunic and shimmery eyeliner (not helped by the fact that he has managed to find pants that are even tighter than his usual leather ones— Alec’s going to die of a heart attack before they can even enter the establishment).

“Hey,” he says, trying not to look stupidly overwhelmed at Magnus’s answering smile, “You, uh, you look amazing.”

“I could say the same, Alexander. This shirt is definitely doing you favors,” Magnus replies, and Alec blushes.

“Would it be completely unattractive if I admitted Simon picked it out for me?” he asks, half-serious, but Magnus just laughs, taking Alec’s hand in his own.

“Of course not. Remind me to thank him next time we meet.”

The rest of the night goes by in a blur: Alec’s sure that the restaurant and everything was amazing, but it’s hard to notice things like ambiance and food when one has a front row seat to the wonder that is the gentle tilt of Magnus’s mouth. He spends the night being regaled with far-fetched anecdotes in between shameless bouts of flirting and giggling, and it’s nice, it’s really nice; alone, away from cameras and parents, just the two of them tucked away in a cozy little corner booth together.

It’s kind of the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to him.

Maybe first dates, Alec thinks, lying in bed later that night, the taste of lip gloss still faint on his tongue, aren’t too bad after all.

---

“Oh my gosh, are you going on dates and making friends? I’m so proud, my baby brother is all grown up,” Izzy sniffs over the phone, “Do we need to talk about safe sex?”

“Why is that the conclusion everyone draws? Do I look that repressed?” Alec groans, thinking back to Simon’s earlier pursuit to educate him on the carnal pleasures of the world. He’d managed to cut the kid off after the first use of the word “penetrative,” but it had been enough to fuel his nightmares for a solid two days afterwards. “Also, I’m older than you.”

“Details,” Izzy dismisses. “Speaking of which, spill! How was it? I still can’t believe you ran off to Spiral Springs without telling anyone. Mom must be absolutely livid, I just wish I was there to see it.”

Alec rolls his eyes, even though she can’t see it over the phone— the sentiment is there, and that’s what matters. “You would be here to see it if you weren’t off doing lord-knows-what in god-knows-where every other week with Jace,” he replies.

“Import-export business, Alec,” Izzy says, “I’ve told you this.”

“Right, the same way you’ve told me you can cook without poisoning everyone. We both know it’s a load of bullshit.”

“We’re getting off topic!” his sister exclaims, which is Izzy-speak for “We’re not talking about this for another year or so,” as she artfully changes the subject. “I believe I asked for specifics about your date with Magnus, hermano. You are not getting out of this.”

Luckily for her, Alec is easily distracted by even the vaguest thought or mention of Magnus, because he’s a total fucking sap and Izzy knows exactly how to use it to her advantage. He would say he hates her, but, well: he’s thinking about Magnus now. That’s infinitely more important, obviously.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” he sighs. The exhale’s got this kind of pathetically lovesick quality to it, but he barrels on, praying Izzy won’t comment on it. “We ate, then he walked me back to the hotel and kissed me at the door before he left. It was amazing. God, Izzy, I like him so much.”

In a perfect, normal world, this would be an opportune time for Izzy to realize that Alec is kind of horribly vulnerable and honest when it comes to Magnus, and for her to be gentle and supportive about it. However, because normalcy is a pipe dream that Alec’s siblings are hellbent on crushing, he is treated instead to an inhumanly high-pitched squeal, followed by frantic shuffling before a voice that sounds suspiciously like Jace’s floods the phone speaker. Given that the most-definitely-Jace-voice is currently yelling something about condoms and endowment and the logistics of same-sex intercourse, Alec decides that hanging up is the appropriate course of action here.

(God, they’re the worst. He’s never going to talk to them again. Or at least, he’s not going to pick up their calls for the next week. Okay, maybe, like 3 days. Probably.)

Great, he thinks, mentally patting himself on the back. Now that that’s settled, he can get back to other matters, like fucking losing his mind because he had totally forgotten to ask Izzy how to plan a second date so he’s now screwed but he’s definitely not calling her back especially now that he knows Jace has her phone and that means he’s been left to his own resources to plan the perfect second date for Magnus and he’s going to have to do it all by himself and he’s going to fail spectacularly because he’s never had to do anything like this before and no one can help him unless—

Unless. . .

“Shit,” Alec says— out loud, for intended effect again, as a horrible flash of deja vu strikes him— which is how, minutes later, Simon ends up sprawled out on the hotel bed next to him at 4 pm on a Wednesday afternoon.

Alec should really start looking into better coping mechanisms before this becomes a problem.

“Okay, so the first thing about this is that you’re approaching it all wrong,” Simon says, sitting up to peer at Alec over his glasses. “Dates are about spending time together, not about being perfect, so don’t stress! What did you initially have in mind?”

That’s the issue: Alec didn’t have anything in mind, because when he had said that he’d organize the next date, he wasn’t exactly operating on full brain function. Impaired thought processes tend to be a common side effect around Magnus, now that Alec thinks about it— he should probably get that checked.

“I really have no clue,” Alec groans. “There’s so much that could go wrong! What if I take him somewhere that reminds him of his ex? Or I stumble and spill slushie all over his shoes and they’re brand new designer ones and he ends things with me on the spot? Or he hates the food there and realizes that my tastes are shit and he decides to cut his losses instead of being forced to eat shitty food everyday that he hangs out with me? Or—”

“Alec, jeez!” Simon interrupts. “Man, you’re kind of a mess about this, huh?”

Okay, rude. Just because it’s true, doesn’t mean it needs to be pointed out. Alec just groans louder, and lets his head fall heavily against the headboard. “I’m so fucked.”

Simon shakes his head, standing up to pose solemnly. “Don’t lose hope yet, young padawan! Come on, you gotta have something. What do you know he likes?” he says, and because Alec is a sucker when it comes to talking about Magnus (as established earlier), the tactic totally works.

“Okay, well,” he starts, “I know he likes expensive wines with names I can’t pronounce. He likes late nights and old classical music, but his ringtone changes every week to a different Britney Spears pop song. He’s kind of a horrible romantic, but I really like that about him. I. . . like a lot of things about him.”

Simon blinks for a moment, and Alec hurries to wipe the besotted smile that’s inevitably found its way onto his mouth. It’s too late, though— Simon’s already grinning back at him, looking too excited for his own good. “That’s so cheesy,” he coos, “But in, like, totally a good way, I promise.” He pats Alec’s shoulder, once, then stands up. “I think I have an idea of what would work. Any ideas in terms of the venue?”

“Oh,” Alec says after a moment. He’s still thinking about Magnus, which means he’s thinking about their previous meetings, which means he’s thinking about—

“Yeah,” he replies, “I have the perfect place in mind.”

---

“So, where are we headed?” Magnus asks. He’s beautiful like this, in the light of the passing streetlights, silver chains glinting like stars, silk tunic flowing like water, hair mussed from the wind. If Alec didn’t have a plan for this evening, he’d probably do something very dumb like slamming the breaks on the car and kissing him senseless. It’s not the first time he’s had the thought, not by a long shot.

Maybe he can fit that part later into the evening.

“You’ll see,” Alec replies, beaming a little at the pout it brings on Magnus’s— stupidly kissable— mouth. “It’s meant to be a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises,” Magnus frowns, but he still leans forward as they pass by a familiar waterfall. Alec can see the moment he processes what that waterfall means, his face lighting up completely as he does so. “Are we going to the Dumont?”

Alec shrugs, trying to be mysterious, but he’s grinning too wide for it to mean anything but a yes. It’s fine; if ruining the surprise means that he gets to see Magnus’s bright smile an extra few moments earlier than planned, it’s totally worth it.

When they finally pull up next to the old sign, Magnus has already noticed the changes to the hotel. “Oh,” he gasps, stepping out of the car, “Alexander.”

Lights are strung up around the outdoor courtyard, with a singular table in the center, a candle and plates arranged across its surface. Simon’s standing there, dressed in a black dress shirt, grinning at the two of them as music plays softly from some unknown corner. It’s horribly cheesy and romantic, and, judging by the way Magnus is excitedly clutching Alec’s hand as they approach the table, it’s worked like a charm.

Alec could marry Simon after this; the kid’s a fucking genius.

“Good evening, sirs!” Simon grins, “Welcome to the Hotel Dumont. We’re so glad you could join us this evening.” He bows, pulling out a chair from behind him, and Magnus laughs delightedly.

“This is absolutely lovely!” he exclaims, settling down. “Did you come up with all this?”

Alec blushes, sitting down right beside him. “Well, Simon did most of the work,” he replies, and Simon shakes his head.

“He’s totally lying; he did, like, all of the decorations and set up, and most of the plan, too. I’m just glad to be of help, man.” He hands them menus, then steps back. “Alright, I’ll leave you two alone for a moment while you decide. Don’t do anything too scandalous!”

Alec rolls his eyes— because really, what could they get up to sitting like this?— but then Magnus places his hand on Alec’s thigh as he leans closer and okay, maybe there’s a lot they could get up to, and maybe Alec is now thinking about all those things in a setting he really should not be, and maybe he should’ve let Izzy give him that talk after all.

“Alexander,” Magnus smiles, leaning closer still, “All of this is amazing, I don’t know how to thank you enough.” He tilts his face up invitingly, and Alec’s helpless to the pull of it, pressing his lips against the other’s. It’s supposed to be just a light brush, but then Magnus shifts nearer and opens his mouth up a little further and fuck, Alec’s libido is suddenly making a desparate appearance in this very public locale. That’s an issue, probably. Whatever. He can’t really bring himself to care right now.

“Mm,” he hums between kisses, “we should really decide on what to eat— hm, before Simon comes back,” but then he chases after Magnus’s mouth right after saying it, so that undermines the message a little. Though no one can really say it’s his fault: kissing Magnus is temptation incarnate, and Alec is a weak, weak man.

They do, eventually, unfortunately, break apart, which is exactly when Simon finally shows up with some expensive drink that he’d sworn Magnus would like. It seems to fill the has-an-impossible-to-pronounce-name quota that Alec had mentioned earlier, so he’s rolling with it. He’s also rolling with the menu, because Alec had planned on pre-planned meals for this thing, so he has no clue where Simon had managed to get proper menus with a selection of food (though the Spanish-themed cuisine on the menu and the passive-aggressive text he receives the next day from Raphael might be able to explain that).

Simon’s left them and they’re finally finished with their courses when some even sappier song starts playing on the speakers, and Alec, being a total dork, stands up and invites Magnus to dance with him. Alec’s kind of shit at dancing, so he’s not sure why he does that, but they end up pressed against each other, swaying slowly, and he can’t even regret it, not even when Magnus laughs at him for stepping on his toes.

It’s perfect. Alec has no clue how he’s going to live up to this on future dates. He’s also, like, halfway to proposing on the spot.

“I reiterate my statement from earlier: this is absolutely lovely, Alexander,” Magnus murmurs after a while. His head’s pressed against Alec’s shoulder, so the words brush Alec’s ear softly as he speaks. “I have quite a bit of planning to do for our next date if this is the standard we’re setting already,” he teases.

“We could eat takeout on my couch while watching some boring regency-era movie and I’d still love it,” Alec replies bashfully, “I got a little nervous this time and went really big, but I promise you don’t have to go this hard to impress me.”

“And you thought you did?” Magnus asks. He pulls away slightly, looking Alec in the eyes. “Darling, the same goes for me. This is stunning, but I genuinely just like you and your company, and that takeout thing sounds more than enjoyable. Though we might have to revisit your opinion on regency-era movies.”

Alec grins. “Why, Mr. Bane, don’t tell me you enjoy watching such long-winded pieces of media, filled to the brim with such stuffy, superfluous dialogue?”

Magnus gasps, seemingly affronted. “How dare you!” he exclaims, “It’s about the drama, the yearning! I’m sure you just haven’t seen the right ones. Next time, I’m making you watch my entire collection.” Alec laughs in response, and it seems to soften something in Magnus’s eyes, because he pulls close again, tilting their foreheads together.

“You know, Mr. Lightwood,” he murmurs, “I’m not the sort of gentleman to invite someone into my home on only our second evening together, but I’m sure I could make an exception for someone of your stature, especially given the amount of time we’ve spent together outside of these official meetings.”

Oh fuck, this is really happening. “How scandalous, Mr. Bane,” Alec somehow manages, then Magnus is giggling and kissing him, and yeah, Alec is so on board with this plan. He’s even more on board with the plan when Magnus leads him to the car, and then leads him up the stairs to his loft.

He’s not even annoyed when he wakes up to Simon’s strangely supportive “Congrats on the sex!” text, because there’s a man lying against his chest who he thinks he could easily fall in love with, and literally nothing else matters right now. It’s him and Magnus against the world: everything else can wait.

(Alec replies to Simon with a single middle finger emoji. He likes the kid, but Simon doesn’t need to know that.)

(The Star Wars movie marathon the two of them end up doing a week later kind of gives it away anyway.)

[bubbashawn]

No Nothing

author: Lol I don’t know where this came from and also cheers to three days in a row of writing. Don’t expect this to become a thing anyways hope you like it. Am I just doing every trope ever? Yep and what about it 💓

synopsis: Shawn has always taunted you because you’re his best friend’s sister, but even Brian can tell it’s tearing you both apart.

warnings: Baby swears and all that but mostly just 2.5k of two people being stupid 😂

Carrots. You hated carrots, they were your favorite growing up and Shawn Mendes, the boy living down the street, ruined them for you.

“Hi carrots,” he would smirk down at you, “how’s it going?”

“Would you stop calling me that?”

“Mmmm no, no can do, sorry carrots”

Brian had called you that when you were a baby and that was fine, but his imbecile best friend Shawn? No way. Your brother had met the Canadian boy in school and honestly it was shocking you didn’t know him already. Pickering wasn’t exactly a big city so most people knew each other, but Shawn and you didn’t meet until Brian and him were besties.

At first you didn’t mind Shawn, he was nice enough and got your brother to leave you alone. But once that nickname set in you were officially not okay with each other. And it wasn’t like you could just ignore him because he’d show up everywhere. At hockey practice Shawn would constantly be shooting pucks your way, shouting that fateful nickname.

“On your right, carrots!”

You despised him. Until you didn’t. Maybe it was the day when he jumped into the car when the Craigen family drove Shawn home from the rink, his cheeks flushed pink and a bright white smile on his face.

“Hi carrots”

You didn’t respond that day with a snarky comment, caught up in his honey colored eyes. He had noticed you were sure but he was lost in conversation with Brian long before he could comment on your dazed state. Or maybe it was the day during freshman year when your sophomore boyfriend dumped you for the senior (who ended up leaving for college 4 months later), Shawn had approached you like you were glass and his step might shake the ground so much you’d crack. He hugged you that day, no teasing or prodding, just holding you together.

“Hi carrots,” his hand ran along your spine, “you okay?”

You just hid your teary eyed frown in his shoulder. The two of you stood there until Brian pulled you both to the couch in the basement and started playing a Harry Potter marathon. Your brother didn’t normally let you in on ‘bro time’ but he knew Shawn wouldn’t leave your side, though the boy would never admit it.

After that day the two of you came to an agreement, settling on harmless taunts and yet Shawn wouldn’t give up the nickname.

“You’re still my carrots, always will be.”

Everything was decent and the two of you were comfortable in the new mutual friendship you’d built. Shawn had told you a month later he’d be leaving for tour. You were 13 and he was 15. Before he left the Mendes and Craigen Clans got together for a farewell dinner, everyone was shocked by the lack of bickering between you two, even more so when he ate your carrots and you ate his tomatoes. The alliance was working.

Shawn came and went through Pickering, just like your boyfriends, except they actually remembered you. Shawn hadn’t even tried to see you when he was home, not that you cared of course, but you did miss his laugh. And his smile and him and maybe even that terrible name.

-

You wouldn’t see the famous boy until your graduation, 5 years after his goodbye dinner. Maybe it was because he rarely was home or maybe it’s because he didn’t visit the Craigen home and more than likely it was because you would leave when Brian mentioned Shawn making an appearance. You don’t know why you did it, you just did.

Graduating was all you looked forward to in all honesty. You had your friends and you had hockey but you didn’t care for that anymore because you wanted to get out of Pickering. Nothing was going to stop you now that you’d be attending university in Australia, that had always been the plan and now you were about to make it happen.

You didn’t even notice the tall boy until you stood from your arranged seat to collect your diploma but his shout was louder than anyone else’s.

“Go carrots!” He smiled right at you.

Shawn was looking at you for the first time in half a decade and he was a new person. He had grown substantially and his dorky figure had filled out. Honestly you gave yourself props for crushing on him before he got hot. But damn you weren’t complaining. You wanted to stare at him and ask all your unanswered questions with your eyes locked with his, but your ticket out of Canada was far more important than your childish crush. So you stepped forward walking along the grass up to the podium and shook hands with the staff of your school before walking back to your seat.

“Carrots!” His stride was fast to keep up with you as you ran towards your friends, “you went and grew up on me.”

“Says you, rockstar,” a new found confident tilt in your voice, “you cannot be the same imbecile from my childhood.”

He smiled brightly, ‘rockstar’, his new nickname. He loved that you gave him a nickname. He felt so comfortable talking to you and he missed the banter you two had always shared. Shawn missed you.

“Rockstar? Huh, I like it,” he pulled you into his chest, like he did all those years ago, “I’ve missed you.”

“Don’t go all soft on me now, I’m already dealing with Brian.” You laughed.

“Hey! I’m being serious here, really I did miss you, carrots.”

“I missed you too.”

It all felt serene, just smiling at one another. That is until your aforementioned brother tugged harshly as his arm wrapped around your waist.

“My baby sister is all grown up!”

“Brian!”

“If you think you can steal her away to catch up, think again Mendes!” He shouted at his best friend.

He just watched them happily, his own hand placed on Aaliyah’s shoulder.

“This dork’s time is reserved for me and only me until 6:30 tomorrow morning.”

You just laughed again, trying to pry his sturdy hands away from you when he started tickling you. But Shawn was confused, no longer laughing with the siblings.

“Why 6:30?”

Brian tensed against you. He knew of Shawn’s crush on his baby sister and though he wasn’t happy at first, he knew Shawn wouldn’t hurt her and that was what he really cared about. That and you wouldn’t have anymore shitty boyfriends who’d never treat you right.

“I didn’t tell you?” Shawn’s face fell at Brian’s tone, “she leaves for Australia tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” He choked on his words, “w-why so fast?”

“I want to grow accustomed to the new lifestyle and country itself before starting the spring semester.”

“O-oh” Shawn hated how his voice stuttered.

You felt his eyes on you the entire night up until you sent your teary farewells to your friends as they went home. You turned to say your final, most important goodbye of the night. But Shawn had already slipped through the door tucked in with the graduated hockey team. No hug. No smile. No nothing. Not even a “bye carrots”.

Shawn didn’t show up at the house the next morning nor when you hugged Aaliyah at the airport. Even Karen and Manny tearfully hugged you before you checked into security, but their son was nowhere to be seen.

-

Australia was everything you wanted and more. The beaches were to die for and the sun was tanning your skin well, not to mention you loved your school. Everything was perfect on all fronts but one. You hated how much Shawn’s dismissal bothered you. He didn’t know when he’d see you again but he brushed you off like you were some chip on his shoulder. You hate that it bothered you and you hate that he hurt you.

Shawn knew that he was an asshole before Aaliyah told him that you asked for him. His mom for God’s sake kept eyeing him like he was a hurt puppy and Shawn knew he looked like one too. Tour had started up again in Portland after your graduation and he was content with performing, it was his safe space. But he was just wanting to be in Australia with you.

“Hey Brian,” Shawn had to rush before his soundcheck because he wanted to know when you would get there.

“Hey man, what’s up?”

“Carrots is coming to the show, right?”

“She’s not sure,” he offered a short smile to Shawn, Brian blamed him for his sister’s reluctance, “she has a chem exam tomorrow.”

“O-oh, okay. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“Sure thing, now get out there, rockstar!”

Shawn froze and Brian knew he messed up. But the famous Canadian boy ran off after stumbling and started his soundcheck. He was a mess, so bad that Andrew called a break. He didn’t do that, not since the Handwritten tour.

“Shawn? What’s going on?”

He just sat there on one of the speakers off stage, dropping his head in his hands. Brian knew he had to do something because Shawn wouldn’t be able to pull it together without his baby sister pushing him along. Shawn just watched his friend walk off to the side, phone pressed to his ear.

“Y/N?”

-

You had no intention of driving the long 3 hours to Shawn’s arena. You had a hot cup of tea, your roommate thought it was gross saying “it’s so hot out though,” and the Harry Potter disk was calling your name. But Brian called and said Shawn needed you and that made the drive feel far longer than ever before.

Arriving at the Qudos Bank Arena 15 minutes before the concert was not the plan, but you hadn’t put into account the countless fans pushing and shoving their way past you. When you finally reached the side door your hair was disheveled, your strap had fallen down your shoulder, and your cheeks were flushed the same way Shawn’s always were.

“Hi,” you smiled at the security guard, “I’m Brian Craigen’s sister and I need to get through.”

He just laughed and turned away. Well, okay then. You stepped away from the door and called your big brother.

“Brian?”

“Y/N? Are you here yet? Kind of in desperate need.”

“Yeah, I am but security won’t let me in. I’m at door,” you looked around, “5A, I think.”

“Ok, I’m coming with Andrew. Give your phone to the guard, would you?”

The two men on the phone had a short conversation ending with the security guy apologizing profusely and opening the gate so you could slip into the venue. You didn’t know where to go but soon that anxiety settled when your clumsy brother ran right into you.

“Brian! Ow!”

“Sorry! Okay, so I’m taking you through to Shawn’s room,” he looked down at you, “yeah?”

“O-okay.”

-

Shawn’s dressing room was a disaster, you knew he wasn’t neat but this was on a whole new level. His wardrobe was thrown around and you sent a sympathetic glance towards Tiffany, his stylist, before finally glancing down at Shawn. He was curled over his legs on the couch, fingers pulling at the poor worn out curls. He looked like a disaster and your heart ached a little at the sight.

“Rockstar?”

His eyes whipped up and he froze as he took you in all the way from those stupid converse you refused to let go of, thought they were 2 sizes too small, all the way up to your signature red hair.

“C-carrots?”

Before you knew it, Shawn had jumped from his position and folded himself against you and your memory again flashed back to freshman year. You were enveloped in everything distinctly Shawn. His smell and his curls that tickled you. The tapping of his fingers against your spine. This was your Shawn, not that boy who failed to say goodbye 5 months ago.

“Hi bud, how are you doing?” You whispered in his shoulder.

“Better now, thanks.”

“I’m still a little mad at you,” he tensed up, pulling you impossibly closer, “no goodbye, no hug, no nothing, Shawn.”

“I’m sorry, carrots.”

The two of you crashed onto his couch in his previous spot but a different position. Shawn was almost at ease, neither of you mentioned the hand with that swallow tattoo still resting on your hip. He just looked at you and you looked at him. This was good.

“What’s going on?”

“What?” He seemed startled by your sudden question.

“Why did Brian think that it was important for me to be here? Why am I here, Shawn?”

He pouted and he just wanted to hold you but Shawn knew that you deserved an explanation for why he’s been so confusing.

“I can’t think straight without you around,” you went to interrupt but he cut you off, “let me say this and then you can go home if you really want to. Most of the tour I was fine with you not being there but when I knew you could be here and you chose not to? I don’t know, i-it threw everything off. And Brian would kill me for saying this but, carrots you drive me crazy. I mean you always have but I don’t know it’s different now. I always liked you, always, and Brian didn’t like the idea of me anywhere near you so I just deflected you. That’s why I started picking on you, calling you carrots. I just knew I couldn’t like you. But I really do, Y/N, I just can’t let you be mad at me.”

He looked at you, your face shocked and that’s when Shawn started to backpedal.

“Hey, relax okay? Nothing has to change your still my best friend’s annoying little sister. Nothing will be different,” Shawn pauses, “if you don’t want it too. I mean you don’t have to like me or anything just because I really li-”

You cut him off and you don’t care how cliche it is but everything fell into place. His lips were soft, not that you had thought they wouldn’t be. Shawn was so shocked he didn’t move until you pulled away, mumbling a short “sorry.” And the. He placed his lips against yours, finally, his hand cupped your jaw and everything was different between you two.

“Hey,” you pulled away slightly, your nose still pressed to his, “you didn’t call me carrots.”

Brian barged in right as Shawn was about to speak.

“Okay, I’m trying to be a ‘cool’ brother or whatever but no tongue when I’m around, deal?”

“Deal,” Shawn’s eyes still focused on you, “definitely a deal.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shawn you need to be on stage like now.” And with that Brian left.

“Come to the side stage?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” And you wouldn’t because Shawn was smiling at you like you were his world and maybe you were.

“Hey carrots?” He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the door, “I really like you.”

permanent tag list: @wholesomemendes @fallinallincurls @ashwarren32 @mendesficsxbombay @haute-shawn @turtoix @prncsnee @http-isabela

[five-wow]

10.19!!! watched it, had thoughts about it, wrote them down. the usual under the cut.

there is a random man in steve’s kitchen (is it the helicopter guy? i... don’t know him well enough to be sure but i am genuinely unsure who else it would be) wearing a “seals do it better” apron while he’s cooking and talking to junior about how this recipe helped him “seal the deal” with the love of his life. okay, random man. you’re not acknowledging it, but you just made a seal pun, so you have my attention.

btw, for a good long moment i genuinely thought this guy might be danny in some kind of weird dream sequence future. i mean, old danny in steve’s kitchen wearing a seal-themed apron and making waffles? i wouldn’t hate it.

junior about how it’s going with tani: “it’s amazing.” okay a) YAY and THAT IS VERY CUTE and b) even so, it’s hilarious to me when random guy says “sounds like you’ve got it bad” just based on junior saying that it’s amazing while he kind of smiles vaguely. cute as it was, it wasn’t a passionate love declaration.

junior lies in bed awake at night dreaming of his thing with tani working out (and not sleeping because he’s scared it might not) and i just !! he’s a smitten mess over her and i adore it, even though his level of anxiety sounds like it’s a little detrimental for his sleep, omg.

fjdkfd we get a scene of adam and quinn who went surfing together and OF COURSE they’re standing under the beach showers as they talk because i feel like adam is literally contractually obligated to have a certain number of shower scenes each season.

tani!! gave quinn!! some surfing pointers!! let’s review: we know that tani is really great at surfing and definitely better than junior, because we had a scene once of them getting back from a surfing trip and junior was slightly pouty over it and tani was absolutely unwilling to downplay her own skill and it was Very Good, and now, in these last few episodes, tani was first present during noelani’s surfing lessons and now she’s apparently been giving quinn advice, and the idea of the h50 women hanging out? the idea of tani being supportive and sharing her knowledge? it’s all so good, ahhh. (ALSO. my mighty need for tani and kono to meet grows with each and every mention of tani’s surfing skill.)

oh my gOD i wrote that bit in brackets and hit play on the episode and IMMEDIATELY adam says that he’s used to being second best in the ocean because “my ex wife was a pro surfer, and very competitive.” YES. GOOD. LOVE THE KONO REFERENCE.

quinn gets a dramatic call from an olivia! i read an episode description, so i know that’s her ex-step daughter. i’m a little hesitant about this “btw quinn has an ex-husband” subplot, but also curious to see where they’re going with it, and quinn jumping to help out a teen girl that she still has a strong bond with is an angle of approach that could potentially be very very relevant to my interests.

cows! “moooo” say the cows, quietly, under the music. they’re not important or plot-relevant, i just like cows.

fjdkfd olivia has a Bad Dad and yes, i do want quinn to adopt her now. it could be good! she could swap tips with steve about how to let your adopted teen know they’re loved and safe and worth so much more than what their parents gave them.

tani to junior: “what, you think i didn’t have a life before i met you?” junior’s eyes: [shoot up to steve, standing right behind tani, who is junior’s mentor AND boss, making it slightly awkward to have a relationship talk right in front of him during work hours] POOR BOY (but also, yes, tani, tell him).

junior is now obsessed with the mystery of why tani is so familiar with a random rancher bar an hour away from her house, and to be honest, so am i.

tani wON A LINE DANCING COMPETITION FOUR WEEKS IN A ROW. that is the BEST solution to the mystery, my gosh.

tani: [brags about her line dancing skills and calls herself the queen] junior: “who are you?” fdjkfdjkfd junior, i don’t even know why you’re suprised that a) tani slays at something she did or b) she is utterly unapologetic about that fact.

olivia says that maybe quinn could come watch her play volleybal some time and quinn says that she’d love to but it’s complicated and don’t do that, quinn! my heart hurts now!

OKAY so olivia isn’t doing cheer this year even though she was captain the previous year and she makes up an excuse about it being because of the other girls but it’s actually about HER DAD taking the money that quinn gave her for a UNIFORM which means she probably couldn’t even try out and I HATE THIS. find your ex and kick his ass, quinn.

lou, after talking about macadamia farming: “but here’s where the story gets a littllllle... nutty.” tani, fistpumping: “nice one.” punner solidarity!! good stuff, good stuff. (though i do wonder what happened to danny’s punning streak in later seasons. anyone remember 1.14, when he joked about the head in a box? he’s lost his appreciation for this fine art and it’s a tragedy, honestly.)

quinn has enlisted adam’s help in tracking her ex (jake) down and she’s telling adam a little about how she never thought she’d fall for a guy like him but he was charming, and then she says “and olivia” and THAT’S when she really smiles, and look, PLEASE don’t let this episode end with olivia still living with her dad because will have to write fix-it fic.

quinn: “i haven’t told anybody i was married, not even steve.” that’s cool, but like, do we believe that means steve doesn’t know? if his background checks haven’t gone completely downhill in the last few years, i would assume he’s figured this out, right? (i love quinn’s “in case you haven’t noticed, i’m not really a sharer” that she adds, because it fits with her personality and it’s just nice to have a female character that’s allowed to be a little secretive about her past in a way that doesn’t feel, idk, sensationalized.)

i have seen a lot of gifs of this episode by now and they’re all of steve and danny and the horses so i’ve seen most of their very polite discussion that ensues when danny calls steve out on not asking him if he wants to ride along, but it’s still utterly glorious. grace gets mentioned, too! and the way danny ends it with “why don’t you try to keep up?” as he passes in front of steve, with steve watching him go? that is flirting. blatant flirting in front of all of their poor teammates. (at least now junior can feel a little less awkward about bringing his relationship with him on the job!)

fjdkfdjk lou’s “all this and they still go time to argue, isn’t that nice?” is A+

steve and danny, as they’re super leisurely chasing some criminals through the woods on horseback: yes, this would be a good time to make up an argument about absolutely nothing at all.

oh gosh, okay, danny says “you know i can uh, i can hear you at night” and steve’s response is “why don’t you get some earplugs?” and um. uh. it’s followed by context, i know, but come on, jfc.

“when i moved in a couple months ago” he’s just GOING for it now, omg. not “came to stay with you”, no attempt at hiding that he’s been staying with steve for literal months at this point - just. when i moved in. a couple months ago.

(i am obviously also very aware of what danny is saying about steve not sleeping and how that’s a new thing because it wasn’t like that a few months ago and steve’s evasiness about it and i am VERY WORRIED ABOUT THAT but i’m also electing to somewhat ignore it because. my god. screw that. we don’t want any of where that seems to be headed in this house.)

“i appreciate it. thank you.” this is growth and it’s good and it’s steve realizing that maybe just his quippy putdown isn’t enough of a response to danny’s genuine offer of support! (and again, we’re not thinking about reasons why he might want to think twice about how he treats danny so danny will know he’s appreciated, because there is no reason for steve to be worried about that, because nothing is going to happen.)

steve: “cuff him, danno.” DANNO. danno has returned from war!!

fjdkfd and then steve says it again in like, the next sentence he says. really cramming in those danno’s suddenly.

oh noooooo. quinn tells adam that jake could be a very good dad (which is valid! addiction is a disease and it’s good to know he wasn’t always like this to olivia, even if i don’t think it excuses what’s happening now), but then she says that jake was all the things she always wished her own dad could be and that maybe that’s why she was so drawn to him, and. okay. did not need that. h50 has a tendency to make women compare their love interests to their dads that makes me very uncomfortable. (the other big one that springs to mind is when abby and chin are courting and chin opens a car door for abby and she says something about how she always admired chivalry in her dad and she thought that died out with his generation and it’s this weird thing where she seems to be flirting by going “wink wonk you make me think of my dad” and oh my god. let’s just say it’s very much not my thing.)

steve and danny end up holed up in a cabin while seven people shoot at them and ahhh, just like old times. also just like last episode, to be honest, with the whole cabin filled with poison thing, but at least there’s no poison this time! that’s a plus!

steve’s improv involves LASSO’ING a guy i’m screaming

dude gets the drop on steve, they have an epic fight, steve HITS HIS HEAD and the dude picks up a GIANT LOG to hulksmash on steve’s head, presumably, and then danny swoops in to the rescue and!!! that’s also very much like old times!!! especially with this forest green color scheme and steve lying on the floor a little dazed it really reminds me of that episode with the girlscout troop in season 3.

(so. in this possible universe we’re not talking about where steve might be sick again and could be pacing at night because he knows or fears he’s going to die (you know the one) do you think that maybe part of why his first words to danny are “why’d you leave the cabin? that wasn’t the plan” is that he was kind of... hoping the other guy would get to finish him off? do you ever think about how steve mcgarrett, man of action, would almost definitely rather go out in a blaze of glory after taking out six guys all on his own with danny having his back, than after watching his own body slowly betray him and give out on him after losing a painful and drawn-out fight with itself?)

confused, frowny steve who almost definitely has a concussion and is also still very bloody is oddly cute, gosh. also, nincompoop! definitely one of danny’s most wonderful insults yet.

quinn gets her ex arrested and yells at him and tells him that if he doesn’t clean up his act, he’ll lose custody of his daughter, and then she drives away and she’s sobbing and trying not to and just !!!!! this was definitely the good kind of “quinn has an ex-husband” storyline, but also very painful.

the sunset scene! seen this in gifset too, but hoooo boy, it hits very differently with actual sound. (i may also have described the scene to my sister and mentioned the “probably ‘cause i figured i’d see a million more” and her immediate response was “oooh, he’s dead” and yES, that’s what i was TELLING YOU i’m worried about and also what i’m not thinking about so let’s just pretend i’m not typing these words right now.)

fdjkfdjkfd i’m sure that steve turning to danny just as he says “those are the things that you’re gonna miss the most in the end, you know” after mentioning things you see every day is just. a total coincidence. yeah. he’s totally just turning away from this sunset he was so entranced by a moment ago to look at danny’s face because he wants to stretch his neck. uh huh.

there’s banter about squirrels and it’s good and then steve says “admit it danny, you’re gonna miss this when it’s done” and that sounds very meta, omg, but it gets better when danny says “yeah, maybe, but i would never say it out loud” because that is literally a way to say it, out loud.

a very good episode!! i loved meeting olivia and learning about quinn’s background and there was some prime tani content and to top it off a lot of mcdanno in the second half, and if we just completely ignore that this episode also made my anxiety about the series finale skyrocket (which i knew it would, based on what i’d gathered of other people’s response to it, but that still didn’t accurately prepare me) it was wonderful and i liked it a lot! 

[arukou-arukou]

季節は次々死んでいく (The seasons die one after the other) by amazarashi

アイロニ (Irony) by Majiko

Charm by Wanima

ハートが冷める前に (Before our hearts cool) by Glim Spanky

どうして君を好きになってしまったんだろう (Why, oh why did I fall in love with you) by Tohoshinki

怒りをくれよ (Give me your anger) by Glim Spanky

Thanx by Wanima

ray by Bump of Chicken

誰かの願いが叶うころ (When someone’s wish comes true) by Utada Hikaru

空っぽの空に潰される (Crushed by the empty sky) by amazarashi

未来になれなかったあの夜に (That night that couldn’t become the future) by amazarashi

逢いたい (I want to see you) by Yuzu

春のかたみ (A spring memento mori) by Hajime Chitose

Rewrite by Asian Kung-fu Generation

ワタリドリ (A passing bird) by Alexandros

For @stevetonygames​ Team Angst, prompt Angst: Betrayal, a playlist of deceptively upbeat sounding J-pop-rock-punk (and one enka song because they are the saddest) about wandering through life, falling in love, lying, losing someone first to another lover, and then to death [Playlist is on Youtube because many of these songs aren’t on Spotify.]

Select translations of lyrics below the cut

1)    “Kisetsu wa tsugitsugi shinde iku” by amazarashi

The seasons die, one after the other   The voice of death becomes the wind In the lively town, a man who can’t get drunk looking up at the moon, what an ugly sight Living a life that kicks mud up your legs, with rain that tastes like alcohol In front of the station, a suspicious innocence, wandering the town with apathetic eyes

2)    “Irony” by Majiko

Tired from a little stroll Tired from a little stroll I know it’s a cliché, but life is such a long road I want to rest a little I want to rest a little Time drags me along Cruel second by second

3)    “Charm” by Wanima

I keep running, my yearning dangling from me You don’t need to worry about me. Goodbye. Thanks. I’ll keep searching for that last hurrah I don’t know the path, because I can’t even see the beginning

…

Time flows by, so unsatisfying still No matter what words I set in a row, I’m unsure I’m used to facades and lies Fakes one after the other Piled up in a mountain of work  Throw it all out Meetings and partings, ships passing in the night, See ya I can still do this, I can still do this Earnest, upright   Future flowers bloom, just like that

4)    “Haato ga sameru mae ni” by Glim Spanky

Even if there’s no path before me, I think I can keep walking My heart is running high, riding the moonlight Before our hearts cool Let’s slip into the exhilarating night Before our hearts cool Let’s get moving, there’s no time to waste

5)    “Doushite kimi o suki ni natte shimatta n darou?” by Tohoshinki

Why, oh why, did I have to fall in love with you? I was so sure you’d be right here No matter how much time passed But the path you’ve chosen is different Why couldn’t I tell you anything? My longing grows worse every day, every night I finally know the words that overflow (but they won’t reach you now)

…

But even so, even though you’ve left my side I only hope you can be happy always (No matter how lonely I am) No matter how painful…

6)    “Ikari o kureyo” by Glim Spanky

Pretending nothing hurts you, I’ll give it my all, so go on, get on your high horse Say your worst, and stoke my fire even higher In a pinch, at my limits, I’m really feeling it now My instincts are quivering, a new me is awakening You know what I mean Is that all you’ve got? More, more. The fight your selling me is too cheap! Give me your anger, I want to get serious It’s not enough yet, really make me angry A fool dreaming foolish dreams can only ever chase after them I’ll overcome trial after trial, but I’ll kick my satisfaction to the curb

7)    “Thanx” by Wanima

Are you prepared to be the hero of this story that’s just started? Here’s the sketch, no script Wounds unhealed   Change your cruel past into a bright future With tireless smiles But the wounds are serious. Crap, are you okay? I’m not okay, but I’m okay. Just tired. Curled in a ball, cried uselessly, spitting weak noises but somehow alive But you, somehow, please find your happiness

8)    “ray” by Bump of Chicken

It feels like our parting was much longer ago I shut away the abject light, and I’ve worn down my heels Searching for that clear slow-passing comet I could see it when I was with you, but not anymore

…

Why did we part, what was the point The abject light casts my shadow long before me Sometimes I’m feverish, I sleep when I can Even knowing it’s a dream, I can only move forward once I’ve seen you

9)    “Dareka no negai ga kanau koro” by Utada Hikaru

I lost something important through something so trifling So I learned in the cold glinting of that ring “If only I had it now,” I said, but it wasn’t to be The door to you disappeared without a sound

…

Kindness comes to me, about as much as the turning of our tiny Earth I want to hold you one more time, as gently as I can

10) “Karappo no sora ni tsubusareru” by amazarashi

I got so many letters they started dragging me down so I tossed out the baggage How satisfying it was, but in the face of that truth the sky was still empty I’d rather have lots of money, I’d rather have lots of friends I’d rather be safe and sound, but what the hell is happiness anyway “Death is inevitable” we write ourselves to death, “In dreams” we write in fever dreams Frantic to death, feverish to dream, we run through the seasons Our wounds only ever growing in number, at least we have comrades we can laugh about the pain with Don’t be jealous of your past self   You only imagine he’s your enemy

…

In good times you can laugh, in bad times you can dry But what the hell do you do with emptiness? Tell me, tell me We come from darkness and it’s only to darkness we can return But between, what can we do? Tell me, tell me I’m being crushed by the empty sky.

11) “Mirai ni narenakatta ano yoru” by amazarashi

“We’ve been through a lot” but I want to look at each incident in detail, one by one.   I’ve taken up my pen, but you do what you want. After all, that’s usually what I’ve done. Forget about me, if there’s somewhere you’d rather be.

…

A light which can only be seen by those who see it, those who understand that darkness only comes when there’s light Setting out on a journey sounds so nice, but you threw it all away and ran Standing on a cliff’s edge on a lonely night, only one reason to jump I just wanted someone to shout “Eat shit” into the lonely nights Those nights, which never became a future

12) “Aitai” by Yuzu

If you could have one wish come true, what would that wish be? I can answer unerringly   I want to see you one more time Outside it's the season of painted flower petals   This year yet again they proudly bloom bright You loved the sight of them, and now I walk among them, alone We could never see eye-to-eye and I hurt you, in those days when we were still young Now I know that I was wrapped in the truest love

13) “Haru no Katami” by Hajime Chitose

The sky fills with the colors of flowers Reflecting my love Even after everything has passed away I’ll think only of you

…

I’ll commit this body to your heart And so I shall die I cannot see before me, I cannot draw breath But I think only of you

…

Can you hear this voice of mine, This voice which yearns for you?

14) “Rewrite” by Asian Kung-fu Generation

I spit up my creaking desires because I have no other proof I’m alive The future I’ve grabbed is filled with contradictions of “dignity” and “freedom” I want to erase these distorted afterimages because I can see my limits beyond them I’ve been too self-conscious—I hung last year’s dateless calendar in the window Erase it, rewrite it, This useless hyper fantasy This sense of existence I can’t forget Pull it back from the brink, rewrite it Give me your meaningless imaginings, the drive that makes you Give them to me with your whole body, your whole spirit

15) “Wataridori” by Alexandros

I wanna fly so high Yeah, I know my wings are dried “Why don’t you find some wings,” people say to me Cruelty on the other side of their words Those who can fly   Those who fall No one’s watching They’re not even paying attention But even so I’ll keep flying Put the words that hurt you on my shoulders I want to carry them

 …

Like a bird crossing the sky, I’ll come flitting back one day Living this impossible story Until the day we meet again

[prettywordsyouleft]

Valentine’s Couple

Summary: Being born on Valentine’s Day had always been a bother until you meet Jung Jaehyun who was also born on the same day.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x reader

Genre: ridiculously cliché fluff

A/N: As you all know, I write a “birthday” fiction for all my biases and thankfully, Jaehyun being born on the 14th of February meant I could cover Valentine’s Day all in the same fiction! I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2156

You always thought you would hate Valentine’s Day.

After all, being born on the day of love wasn’t the easiest. Okay, so you didn’t have it as bad as those born on Christmas Day, but whenever you were propositioned with telling someone your birthday, it always came with the endless comments.

“Oh, Valentine’s Day?!” You nod, trying to prevent your eyes from rolling. “You must be simply full of love then.”

“Not really.”

“Have you ever had anyone confess on your birthday to be your Valentine? You’d get double the presents! Chocolates and a gift, I think it would be amazing to be recognised twice on such a magical day.”

You scoffed. Love just wasn’t your thing.

Until you met Jaehyun.

It happened with a stroke of luck in your first year of university. You had to sit through the typical game of sharing a random fact about yourself with the fellow freshmen students in your department during orientation week. And when the handsome brunette across the circle you sat in smiled in preparation, you wondered what he would say. That he played some kind of sport? That he was good at making music? Being in the performing arts department and all, that would be a given. You watched as his smile deepened, much like the dimple on his cheek. You couldn’t exactly help but feel entranced.

“Hi, I’m Jung Jaehyun, and my random fact is I was born on Valentine’s Day.”

Giggles and appreciative hums filled the room as you blinked slowly at his admission. He didn’t seem bothered by sharing a day with every couple in the world, and when one of the other students asked him if he liked Valentine’s Day, he nodded, smiling to himself. Why? You guessed because he was handsome, he must have a good experience each year with confessions.

Unlike you, who got the typical cards during high school saying they were only asking to be your Valentine because it was your birthday and it was the only way you’d get some love. Kids were cruel, and you pouted thinking how different Jaehyun’s experience must have been. You were so invested in your thoughts of the injustice over being a Valentine’s baby that when it came to your turn, you weren’t prepared at all. You grew flustered and uttered whatever came to your mind first.

“Uh, I’m Y/N and I’m also born on Valentine’s Day.”

“Really?” the girl asked beside you and you nodded. She clapped with glee. “We have our first campus couple!”

You gaped at her exclamation, many others agreeing with her. You glanced hesitantly over at Jaehyun who grinned.

You were hopeful this wouldn’t amount to anything.

“Are you really born on Valentine’s Day?”

Turning around, you saw Jaehyun approaching you on your first proper day of classes. He smiled at you warmly as he fell into step at your side. “Y/N right?”

“Uh yeah,” you confirmed, feeling the flush of colour on your cheeks deepen at Jaehyun remembering your name. You then nodded softly, confirming his question. “I am.”

“That’s really cool, I’ve never met anyone else who shares a birthday with me. It was always weird being the Valentine’s boy, not that I minded it all that much.”

“Really? I hate it,” you admitted and Jaehyun looked at you, perplexed. You sighed gently. “I don’t like all the attention I get whenever I mention it.”

“Yet you told the whole freshman class,” he reminded and you nodded, groaning. Jaehyun chuckled. “Don’t worry; I’ll make sure they don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“You don’t have to, I very much doubt anyone would even remember,” you mentioned before jumping in fright when an arm slung over your shoulders suddenly. You blinked rapidly when you realised it wasn’t Jaehyun’s.

“Well if it isn’t the Valentine’s Couple! Walking your love lady to class, are we?”

Jaehyun chuckled. “Is there a problem with that?”

“I smell love brewing!” the student exclaimed before winking down at you and you grimaced. He leapt off you both to head off energetically towards the department, basically announcing your arrival.

You looked at Jaehyun’s amused expression meekly, preparing yourself for a difficult semester ahead.

You had convinced yourself once the class routine was established; your fellow peers would drop their pretentious behaviour about you and Jaehyun being the Valentine’s Couple. After all, you figured you would all be too busy with projects and assessments to continue with the juvenile antics. You had cursed yourself for speaking up that day but reminded yourself often that you couldn’t remain the focus for long. People had better things to worry about.

It would have been easier if you hadn’t found an instant friend in Jaehyun though, admittedly. It seemed that since you had been pushed together that you just naturally continued to sit with him in class and often shared your breaks together. It was effortless, and you actually enjoyed his company. Whilst you hated the nickname and the attention you got at his side, he was far too nice to avoid in hopes for it to all die down. So whilst you wished to shun the situation, you couldn’t bring yourself to step away either. Jaehyun was engaging and comfortable to be around.

Perhaps that was why you started to feel something growing inside you.

Jaehyun never refuted the nickname or seemed bothered by it. He always smiled and nudged you gently, appeasing some of the proclamations with vague but positive responses. At first, you thought he was just being pleasing to everyone. You noticed he made friends easily enough because he was attentive towards all your other classmates. Knowing his character made you brush off the flutters you felt when he didn’t deny being coupled with you. He didn’t openly encourage the behaviour and if he was truly bothered, he would have refuted it by the middle of the first semester.

But he didn’t and as it continued, he sometimes got a little into it himself, slinging an arm around you and blinking up at whoever was standing beside your row in the lecture hall, waiting for them to say something more.

You were always too stunned to do anything but focus on breathing.

It made sense that you started to daydream of him being your actual boyfriend. You fantasised of all the cliché and cheesy things you had treated indignantly all these years. You craved for Jaehyun to dote on you, gracing you with endless dimpled smiles and kisses in between classes. Holding your hand and taking you out on dates when you had time to do so. Snuggling up since the weather was cold and spending Christmas together.

It was actually during your Christmas break when you allowed yourself to accept your feelings properly. Although you had received messages all day from fellow classmates in the group chat wishing you a good Christmas, you were surprised when you received a private message from Jaehyun.

[Jaehyun] [3:18 PM] Merry Christmas Y/N, I hope you’ve had a good day and break so far. Looking forward to seeing you back at school soon x

You had stared at that x for the rest of your Christmas break, hoping it meant something.

Christmas break was over and you were back in school, nervously waiting to catch up with Jaehyun. He was promptly on time, greeting you with a grin and a wave. You weakly returned them, trying to settle yourself down. It wasn’t as if you had gone months without seeing him or anything. But he looked good as he approached you and you couldn’t help the small sigh that left you contentedly when he stopped at your side.

“Miss me?” he teased and you nodded, blushing a little at your immediate response. Jaehyun seemed pleased by your reaction and nodded. “Me too. It was weird not being in a couple situation over my break. I was surprisingly lonely.”

“Oh, were you?” You didn’t want him to feel lonely, but knowing he had missed you as much as you had him, well, it was making you feel rather toasty in all your winter layers.

“It’s good to be back on campus, right?”

You agreed with another quick nod, trying your best to bite back your elation.

Things fell back into routine quickly over January but when February hit, you felt excited for the first time. Normally, you hated this month and would shut off from interacting with people outside of your friends, and even then you would be uncharacteristically moody. But this year, you couldn’t help but smile often or feel captivated in the warm feeling in the air even though the weather was still recovering from the harshness of winter as the season slowly headed towards spring. It was a strange feeling and you were certain it was because of Jaehyun.

The couple name you both had carried around like name badges since the start seemed more apparent now as each day ticked closer to the fourteenth. And you found yourself feeling bolder as if enchanted by the month of love yourself. A ghost of a smile would play on your lips whenever someone mentioned it and you even found yourself reaching out touch Jaehyun gently much like he always did you. It pleased you when you saw him blush instead, and you felt exhilarated because he never pulled away from your actions.

Because of this, you felt yourself anticipating your birthday in a good way. Not so much for yourself, but for the plan you had been working on. You spent your time in between projects and long training sessions putting in all the last minute touches to your card, and on Valentine’s Day itself, you got up bright and early to shower so you could spend more time on your make-up. You had your outfit ready from choosing it out last night and changed into it, heading to university feeling encased in a sense of hope. Perhaps it was because everywhere you looked, everyone was giving gifts or gazing lovingly at each other, but you felt compelled to tell Jaehyun how you felt today. Cliché or not, you had decided since you had been known as the Valentine’s Couple this whole time, confessing on Valentine’s day itself seemed appropriate.

You just hoped you didn’t fumble too much.

You didn’t see Jaehyun until later into the morning as your classes didn’t match up until then, and you were thankful you both had a habit of arriving at this lecture earlier than other students. He smiled at your arrival and turned in his chair to face you as you sat down. “Happy Birthday.”

“Happy birthday,” you repeated, unable to hide your grin. You reached into your bag and pulled out your card, right as Jaehyun slid something toward you. You laughed at the envelope and he slyly grinned as he took yours.

“I guess it makes sense for us to be each other’s Valentine today too,” he mentioned as he opened up your card, blinking when he realised it was handmade. You felt anxious, hoping it wasn’t too much. He seemed affected by your effort and then smiled. “You made this?”

“Isn’t that the norm for your Valentine?” you teased, and Jaehyun reached for his card he had handed you. You whined and tried to reach for it. “Hey, that’s mine!”

“It’s nowhere good as yours,” he admitted, attempting to hide it from you.

“I don’t care; I want to receive it all the same!”

“Really?” he asked, and you ceased your avid movement towards his arm. He smiled slowly. “You’ll really accept it?”

You could feel the added weight to his sentence and nodded in response. Dropping his hand back into your reach, he offered you his card again. Unlike the typical wording that you had tried to subtlety drop hints into about how you felt, Jaehyun was obvious.

I like you, Y/N.

I know it’s cliché to write this out in a card, or even because it’s Valentine’s Day but I’m really glad we got dubbed the Valentine’s Couple. I want to be a couple. Let’s date.

Happy birthday and I hope you’ll be my Valentine next year too.

Jaehyun x.

You glanced up at him and he was waiting nervously for your response. You didn’t say anything and he seemed frustrated. “Say something, anything. Your silence is driving me crazy.”

“I like you too.”

“So that means you’ll accept being my Valentine this year?” he asked, leaning in closer. You nodded and he swiftly kissed you, rendering you breathless despite how quickly his lips left yours. You took a deep breath before you kissed him back, uncaring when the doors suddenly opened and students started to come in.

“Woah look at this! The Valentine’s Couple are officiating things!”

You couldn’t help but grin at Jaehyun at their announcement, deciding that being born on Valentine’s Day wasn’t that bad after all.

_________________

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[NCT Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[libraryscarf]

here is the piece i wrote for the @womenmadefullmetal zine, which i was profoundly honored to be included in! please check out their tumblr to see all the amazing art and writing that went into this project. i was asked to write about my best girl, winry, and i’m so excited to share this fic with you guys. <3

turning home

( ao3 / ff.net )

The Rockbell women have always breathed smoke, her grandmother tells her, not long after her parents die, but not soon either. We’re furnaces, you and me, she says. Anything that tries to go through us will need to melt.

Winry tries to swallow the lump of black metal in her throat. It sinks into her stomach, distending her insides, like the stretched belly of a snake after devouring a rabbit. That darkness will dissolve eventually, worn away by the passing years and the Resembool sunlight. But fragments of it will float in her system always, pulsing now and then with the heartbeat of loss. It will coat her lungs with iron. It will spike her blood with steel. It will surface in the blisters on her palms, toughening them like hide.

Winry learns at a young age that grief can serve her, both as her burden and as her armor.

: : :

“You shouldn’t be checking in so often. I’m fine. And even if I weren’t, Den knows who to fetch if I need help.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you calling, child?!”

“Well...I thought you might appreciate an update on how I’m doing.”

“Winry. You don’t think I have my own connections in Rush Valley? I’ve known how you were doing the moment you set foot in that wretched city.”

Winry smiles. The anxious bite in her grandmother’s voice hints that Pinako hasn’t been quite as collected as she likes to profess.

“Several people here have told me stories about you.”

“Of course they have. I’m a legend.”

“So you did attach automail fingers to Mrs. Wheeler’s foot instead of toes.”

“Who told you that?!”

“Mrs. Wheeler. And Mr. Wheeler. And Mr. Garfiel. And--”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake. She thanked me later. Made it easier for her to pick things up.”

Pinako’s laughter crackles over the line, and Winry joins her. If they were together, sharing this evening as they have countless others in that yellow house, she would see the spidery lines around her grandmother’s mouth smooth away, and Pinako would resemble the woman of so many years ago, her eyes bright as beads of mercury.

: : :

She sits on the wide windowsill of her room, one leg swinging over the shoe-beaten, dusty street outside Atelier Garfiel. The workshop is humid, ripe with male armpits whose owners are always traipsing in.

Heat rises from the ground in shimmering waves, and she pulls in a long breath. The air tastes like the burnished insides of a forge; the sun prickles in a glittering sky. Yesterday one of her clients had cracked an egg onto his metal knee to the delight of six local children. The sun above reminds Winry of the yolk: a perfect golden disc surrounded by sizzling white.

She loves it here. It isn’t the same love she feels for the sweeping countryside where she was born, a slow, soft thing layered with complications of old sorrow.

The love she harbors for Rush Valley is quicksilver and octane, a rush of searing air, a keen and yellow energy that wakes in her muscles each morning and blasts wild through her dreams each night. It is a rough town that Winry loves, but it fits her roughened parts, and Rush Valley loves her back.

: : :

“I’m happy you’re settled in. Tell the others hello from me.”

“Mei already said hi when she heard I was calling. Zampano and Jerso, too. Oh, and Ling suggested bringing you here to serve as the official court mechanic. They’ve apparently never had one before, but he said you could name your price.”

Winry’s grin stretches across her face. That sounds so like something Ling would suggest that she can nearly hear it in his voice.

“And Lan Fan’s thoughts?”

“She admires your work, but doubts you’d want to relocate so far just to take care of her arm.”

Winry’s fingers skim the pocked surface of the worktable. She knows every divot, every chip and scar, as though they’re carved in her own skin.

“I’d like to visit Xing,” she admits.

“There’s a lot of murmuring about a railroad across the desert. Goodness knows how long that’ll take—but then you and Granny could both come.”

His voice has changed, even since they last saw each other. Winry presses a knuckle to her mouth, her eyes stinging.

“Will you be happy there?”

“I think so.”

“Good.”

“...Winry?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

She chews her thumbnail, cursing her stupid throat for closing up.

“Don’t be stupid, Al. I’ve no idea what you mean.”

: : :

Wandering down the uneven rows, Winry’s eyes skim the names. She halts in front of two close-set stones, where others have left tokens. Her eyes fall on a wilting sprig of sweet violets and yellow honeysuckle.

She sinks cross-legged to the ground between the graves, her back and knees complaining after so many long nights of work. The violets’ brittle stems crumble under her fingers into fine gray dust.

Her father had adored sweet violets, Winry remembers suddenly. He had yelled in delight upon finding the first clumps of them in the spring, when winter still bared its teeth in the frigid midnights and ghosted the mornings with frost. He would gather handfuls, stuffing his nose into the velvet purple blossoms. Winry’s mother laughed often and openly, but never was it filled with more delight than when her husband doubled over, possessed by a fit of uncontrollable sneezing.

A warm drop slips down her cheek, and she swipes at it viciously. Another drop splashes onto the end of her nose. Then the sky opens, unleashing a violent spring tempest that sends Winry sprinting for cover. The overhang of the groundskeeper’s shed provides the closest thing to shelter and she crowds herself under it, blinking the lukewarm rain out of her eyes.

In her haste to escape the storm, she hardly notices the soft grit of the disintegrating violets in her hand. Following a vague impulse, she holds them up to her nose, inhaling their powdery, dying sweetness.

Then she sneezes.

: : :

“Hey, you actually picked up.”

“Don’t make me regret it.”

Winry’s voice is sharp, camouflaging the way her entire body melts at hearing his voice. A voice that is safe, and healthy, and--as usual--a bit too loud.

“Jeez. Is this a bad time?”

A telling pause.

“Are you crying?”

“No!!”

Her head feels like someone has packed it with wet paper. Ed chuckles ruefully.

“You’re sick.”

“I’m fine.” Her “m” s and “n” s are migrating toward “b” and “d” territory.

“You sound awful.”

“Right, I’m hanging up.”

“Okay, okay! Sorry!”

Slowly, Winry puts her ear to the phone again. And then sneezes on it.

“Maybe...a tiny bit sick,” she admits.

“Stop pulling all-nighters.”

“I don’t have an all-nighter to blame for this. And don’t tell me what to do.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ed says, half-laughing.

The line crackles as he sighs. “You had to take care of me so much. I feel kinda guilty.”

“You were an extremely bad-tempered patient.”

“Well your bedside manner isn’t exactly welcoming!”

Winry hears the veins popping in his neck and forehead. Ed communicates everything of himself through his voice. He could so easily be sitting across from her.

She closes her eyes and imagines he is.

“You know I didn’t really mind,” she says.

A sheepish grunt from Ed’s side. “Is that because you got to boss me around and tell me what to eat and when to sleep?”

“That... was a contributing factor.”

“I knew it!” he crows victoriously. “You’re sadistic. Sick with power.”

“So was that your backwards way of saying, ‘Winry, I’m so sorry I’m not there to nurse you back to health and make up for all the times I was a stubborn jerk’?”

The pause before his answer is just long enough to worry her.

“It would take a hell of a lot more to make up for that.”

Winry’s smile evaporates, her heart twisting.

“Ed...”

“What? I can’t be sincere for a second?”

“It’s not that . I…I just--”

His laugh interrupts her. “You don’t need anyone to take care of you, Winry. You never have.”

“It might be nice, though,” she mumbles. “Once in a while.”

“Consider the hint taken.”

Her chest expands with relief, a warm wave lifting her on its crest.

“Come home soon.”

Ed hesitates. She is hard to lie to, and if he’s smart, he won’t try.

“I’ll hurry.”

Winry believes him.

: : :

When her head aches and her hands are chapped, Winry walks up the hill to the big tree, where an aged swing creaks against its ropes. The valley flows away from her feet in green, rolling swells.

Her mind is busy, though her hands are not.

She thinks of her newest customer: a girl, no older than Ed when he had his surgery, her right hand missing from a farm mishap. Winry had reassured her that with automail, she could still play her fiddle.

She thinks of how Ed mentioned over breakfast how nice a house would look, there at the top of the hill where the foundation of a burned building still lies.

She thinks of Al’s recent visit, when he brought silk and tea and bright, human laughter across the desert.

She thinks of how her daughter reminds her in a thousand half-painful ways of Pinako, asleep now next to her own children.

She thinks of the countless small responsibilities waiting for her at home: an electric motor to tune up, a bruise to kiss and bandage, a shipment invoice to file, a long-overdue call to Paninya, a pie crust to bake.

Winry listens to the birds talking in the branches high above her. She smiles.

Then she turns down the hill, beginning the walk back home.

[twistednuns]

February 2020

I managed to use my iPad as a second monitor for my computer. So tech savvy. Yay me!

Joking about developing a sex-based cardio programme with Manu. Powerfucking! Might help against aggression as well.

A late night phone call with Tom. Not saying much.

Making a huge pot of my grandmother’s signature veggie stew.

More Bon Appétit test kitchen videos. Chris recreating tacos. Claire making Ben&Jerry’s. Priya making her mum’s Indian curries.

Writing a letter to Lena. Drawing upside down bats (which makes them look like they’re having a wicked dance-off). Just the act of writing. I thoroughly enjoy looking at my handwriting.

Using the Salted Coconut handscrub by Lush. Especially now that I wash my hands so often when we’re working with clay at school. I feel like the peeling triggers some pressure points on my palms.

That Saturday productivity high. Cooking and preparing heaps of stuff, cleaning the windows, doing laundry.

Painting my nails like an expressionist artist.

Some portrait studies. Accidentally drawing Sirius Black.

Being really motivated to improve my Spanish. Working with Lorena, the Duolingo app and even starting my own grammar/vocabulary book.

This ultra quirky ASMR video. Also: watching videos with Erin an her boyfriend Chris. It’s amazing how well they work together. How you can almost feel their connection, how similar they are.

Carrot cake oats.

Seeing the The Darkness live again, this time with Margit. Justin’s outfit and personality, singing along, especially to Time of my Life, the band’s traditional first song after the show.

Meeting Chris. Having a Bramblette cocktail at Pusser’s. I like that place. Feels very old-timey with a rowing boat right under the ceiling. We made out in front of a tiger slide in a toy store window on our way to the next bar.

Peeling fresh carrots.

Pickling onions and making kimchi. My fermentation game is strong these days!

Looking through Dominik’s sketchbook. I loved the tree whose bark resembled a mole burrow with its underground tunnel system.

The flu. Yes, really. Fewer pupils at school. Quiet times. I’m actually surprisingly healthy. I’d guess my probiotics must play a role here… Who knows.

More sourdough experiments. Writing about it (DELICACY - a haiku. Oven-warm sourdough / salted butter, alpine cheese / and a strawberry).

Finding a really interesting list of SanFran hippie era book recommendations at the end of Robin Sloan’s Ajax Penumbra: 1969. In the mood to read Maya Angelou, Tom Wolfe, Jack Kerouac, Richard Brautigan.

Even more beautiful books: I really enjoyed Die weiße Stadt by Karolina Ramqvist, a feminist author from Sweden, and the graphic novel version of To Kill a Mockingbird. But two books that literally (well, figuratively obviously) blew my mind were Circe by Madeline Miller (mythology, loneliness, animals and plants, magic and monsters, some desperate kind of feminism, independence and strength) and Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (magical realms, university setting, psychological depth, unexpected twists and turns). I haven’t read anything comparable in a very long time and I desperately hope that there’s more to come from these authors.

A beach collecting all the world’s single socks in The Magicians. Oh and of course seeing them break the moon. What a sight. The show is super confusing, obnoxious and absolutely fabulous at the same time. Best example: the Freaky Friday szene in which Margo and Eliot switch bodies. I love how the actors took on each other’s speech patterns and behaviour.

A new addition to my colour vocabular: celadon (a greyish green; there is a type of ceramics you’ll only see in this colour which is not surprising since the shade provides such an interesting contrast to the the earthy, rusty orange of burnt clay.)

Manu telling me that he had rarely seen people with more joy in their eyes than me (“Ich habe schon Freude in deinen Augen gesehen! So ein Leuchten kann man nicht simulieren.”) after complaining about being bored and lifeless. / Making curry with or, well, for him the other night. Drinking Liqueur 43 with cinnamon and milk. Playing the Jackbox party games for which you can use your phone as a controller.

Finding myself in a well-known sitation from the past. Lying in Frank’s bed in the early morning hours, not that tired yet, when he starts talking about his life and his depression. In English, obviously, because that’s our emotional filter. Relating, since I feel quite similar. Coming up with a suggestion for a reciprocal support system. Let’s see what we can do for each other.

Looking at travel photographs. The sea, the cenotes. Longing to go back to Mexico or Australia. Diving. Taking it all in.

Dreaming of my grandmother talking about her biggest regrets in life. Weirdly she was in a little bundle under a coffee table, much like Voldemort in the last Harry Potter movie.

My weird, weird brain. How both pleasure and pain enhance my sense of smell and increase my brain activity, almost causing hallucinations and fixations on ideas. Like geometric shapes in gloomy off-colours and a beige silicon-like surface the other night. All I could think of was a benchscraper.

Blue eyeliner.

Brainstorming three-letter-words with Frank since I’m thinking of getting personalised Nike Blazers. Sad cat. Yes but. Dat ass. Why tho.

Flying squirrels. Watching them wobble through the air. How they look like cute exhibitionist when they’re extending their limbs and thus stretching their, well, let’s just call it wings.

The fact that red cabbage has an intricate pattern like brain convolutions when you cut it open.

Talking to Sonja for the first time in over two years. What a strange person. Interesting, too. At least in homeopathic doses.

Ripe strawberries and nectarines. Oh my god. I love fruit.

Meeting Eve at Pub Quiz. She identifies as female, loves swing dance, used to be an animator and I love her style. Also, I realised that really like Betty. And Dennis wasn’t mean to me for once. I love my nerd friends <3 And I learned that Starbucks was named after the first mate in Moby Dick! Also, coincidentally they asked a question about the city where To Kill a Mockingbird takes place (Maycombe, Alabama) after I had read it the week before.

Inviting Lorena to the Botanical Gardens. I always feel very happy and very much myself when I’m there. I sometimes wish I was a gardener. Lorena was late so I walked along the Spring Path outside and it might have been the first time I’ve seen a brussels sprouts plant. Inside I learned lots of Spanish words and marveled at the incredible butterflies. The huge yellow one right behind the entrance was my favourite. Its delicate feelers were fascinating.

Washing my hands at the Keg’s bathroom. Looking into the mirror. Suddenly thinking of the perfect karaoke song… Rescue Me by Bell Book and Candle! I kept singing it for days on repeat. My neighbour must hate me (nothing new here) especially since my voice is too low for the chorus.

It isn’t hard to see how such attachment patterns can undermine mental health. Both anxious and avoidant coping have been linked to a heightened risk of anxiety, depression, loneliness, eating and conduct disorders, alcohol dependence, substance abuse and hostility. The way to treat these problems, say attachment theorists, is in and through a new relationship. On this view, the good therapist becomes a temporary attachment figure, assuming the functions of a nurturing mother, repairing lost trust, restoring security, and instilling two of the key skills engendered by a normal childhood: the regulation of emotions and a healthy intimacy. // An interesting article on attachment styles and why theraphy works; it makes me want to learn more about attachment theory. This School of Life video is a nice addition as well.

That dream. About a book shop modeled after my picture of Penumbra’s 24-hour bookstore. There was an old man in a very narrow but high-ceilinged room full of books. There was no light source except for moonlight or some street lights. There were loads of stairs, very steep, leading to the back of the house. Upstairs the man would set out cat food and on the rooftop there was an old sailing boat. One day the man decided to open the door to the roof and let visitors see the ship, much like a museum; perhaps to attract customers. However, in the next night a cat-shaped ghost appeared who reminded me quite a lot of Kot Behemoth character in Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita. The ghost was not amused about the old man’s decision and took away his key, a big golden one adorned with a red ribbon.

Toasted sesame makes pretty much every dish so much better.

Watching High Fidelity with gorgeous Zoe Kravitz (I adore her effortless style and her outfits), getting in the mood for making a playlist and listening to more music in general. There are all these great songs out there I forgot about.

Remembering the xkcd storm chaser comics.

Making a wicked good batch of Pho for Tom.

Spending a nice evening with Alex at Shamrock. Singing along to American Boy by Estelle. Confirming the hypothesis that the nerdy, quiet ones usually have a freak streak. That moment in the morning. Eye contact and kegel exercises.

Karaoke with Margit and Betty. Meeting Manu’s doppelganger. Same type, looks, voice. Eerie.

Making a BA Gourmet Makes meme for Steffen after he had passed his law examps. Strangely Gaby kinda looked like him after I was done with it.

Saturday morning in bed. Reading comics and graphic novels. Fresh bedclothes, surrounded by books. Since it was February 29 I thought about leap years and asked a few friends what their inner seven-year-old would have done that day (based on the thought experiment that your birthday was on February 29 and you’d age in 4-year-steps which would divide your age by 4 obviously).      

I came up with: visiting grandma / eating Cini-Minis / falling asleep with my face buried in a cat / beating my neighbour Anna at Memory / drawing while listening to a Bibi Blocksberg cassette.

Alex said he’d have been outside all day, building a snow igloo. Not noticing his mum telling him to come to dinner. If the weather had been bad he would have played with his dinosaur collection. His inner 7-year-old was a hopeless dreamer who got agitated whenever his parents had a fight. Who came home late from school every day because he forgot about time when he was talking to his friend next to a hedge with thorns that looked like tiny airplanes.

Lena said she would have been outside all day long, playing in the mud with the neighbours’ kids. Of course.

[craby-bouquet]

So I don’t like talking too personal on this blog (or on the internet as a whole) but this week has been so great so far! Like the last few weeks were absolute sh=t, my anxiety and depression were really getting in my way (especially my anxiety, That hasn’t been this bad in a very long while so I didn’t know what to do with myself) to the point where I slept in my mom’s bed and stuff. But this week? Amazing. I haven’t had any anxiety?? Or at least nothing too bad. And I didn’t stay home from school the entire week and I’m not feeling like staying home tomorrow either. Like literally this is amazing and I’m so happy with myself and with everything right now. I even got some writing done like who am I??? 

Anyway I thought I’d update ya’ll on what I’m currently working on since I haven’t really posted anything in a while:

Obviously I’m working on Trivia, I started on chapter 8 and will post 6 and 7 very shortly (I just need to check them on mistakes and stuff yk) I’m also Almost at a point were I can start working on some of the other member’s stories which I find very exciting.

Crowned heads is kind of quiet rn, I do have some really good ideas for it and I really want to continue it but I just don’t really have the motivation for it rn. I have decided however, that as soon as I do start on that I’m going to do it in the order I want. What I used to do was writing the first chapter for all of them, and then writing the second for all of them etc. but what I’m gonna do from now on is write which I have inspiration for. Which may mean that suddenly we get 3 chapters in a row for like Mingyu’s story or whatever Because I was inspired to write for him.

I’m also feeling very inspired for my own personal story. One that I’ve besically been working on since I was nine, and finally got confident enough in my writing to actually write it instead of just brainstorming for it. Idk when I’ll start posting for that, but you can find the blog I made for it in the tags.

I believe that’s all the on going series I have right now, here are a bunch of loose stories I’m slowly working on:

Unknown title, Choi Seungcheol ft. friend!Jeon Wonwoo, fantasy!AU. (based on a drawing I found. I’m not very far on it yet, but I think it will be a fun story once I finish it) The winter queen has been kidnapping people from all the other seasons, mainly men. No one seemed to have noticed until your fiance Seungcheol gets taken away. You run after him, right from the border of Spring, into the land of Winter. This is where you meet Wonwoo, a mysterious guy who says he might be able to help you get Seungcheol back.

Unknown title, Lee Jihoon, 1960 detective!AU. You live in Houston, Texas, Texas has been know for the harsh police system and one of the only states that still allow the death penalty, after a night out you come back home only to find out that your best friend’s husband has been killed. You were the only one who saw a strange figure leave the house. Will the detective figure out who the killer was? Or will all the leads from his soon to be lover lead to no ends at all?

Unknown title, Xu Minghao, CEO!AU. You work in a busy company at a departement with a great team leader. That is, untill that Team leader decides to quit a a new one gets assigned. Xu Minghao is strict and ruthless. You can’t stand him, and yet there’s something about him that makes you feel all warm inside. You just figure it’s your hate for him, boiling up inside you.

Till death do us part, Lee Seokmin, Fantasy!AU, Thriller. (This one is gonna be... kinda messed up dont mind me) Your late husband Seokmin, had ended his own life a couple of moths ago. Obviously, you were still shocked, sad and angry. That is, untill you see him again, after a nasty car accident you were a wittness of. That’s when you figure you actually are going crazy. Or are you? At some point you figure out that where people die, he appears. This gives you a briliant idea for how you can keep seeing him...

Unknown title, Lee Chan, wizard!AU. After your mom dies you are forced to move in with your father. A man you haven’t seen since you were, like, 3 years old. Your mom used to tell you stories about how he was crazy, and possibly dangerous for you to be around and that’s why she decided to divorce him. And as you arrive at his strange house, you can see exactly what she means by that. The man is insane. On top of that, you have to go to this stupid new high school, with this bratty guy Chan who was acting shitty to you from day one. And then seeing him again in your father’s house? This place couldn’t get worse. Untill you get to know Chan, and your father, and the secret they keep together.

Yeah so that’s about it. You’ll see that coming at some point in the future, please look forward to it, I know I am very excited to start all this again! 

masterlist, amongst other things, can be found in the tags!

[revivedandabandonedkids]

The Portrait of Afuro Terumi (06~10)

! Double Gods

! Unfinished

[Previous]

-

06.

What's an appropriate response upon being addressed by a literal painting?

Among countless of possible eloquent answers, Hiroto selects the simple and to-the-point “What the fuck?”

Afuro Terumi- the portrait (Don’t call it by a name. Calling it by a name dignifies it as a consciousness.) seems unfazed. “I guess the more correct term would be that I am the curse.”

It’s beginning to feel too much like a fever dream so Hiroto backs out of the room and calmly goes back to his room where he sleeps for a good twelve hours.

-

07.

Hiroto knows what’s in the room. It’s a dusty old painting that talks.

Or maybe he doesn’t know what’s in the room and his memories of the previous afternoon are just the result of his delusions.

There’s only one way to be sure.

Before he can psyche himself out, Hiroto marches up to the room again, and barely gives the knob a twist before it springs open.

“You’re back.” Afuro Terumi greets him.

Hiroto stiffens. Fuck. So it was real. He conversed with a painting, which is the opposite of what Haizaki warned him about, and now he’s probably cursed, but he can’t even tell Haizaki about it because he doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“You act like you knew I was coming.” Hiroto asks cautiously. “Did you know I was coming?”

“I had an idea.” Afuro Terumi’s eyes gleam mysteriously. “It has something to do with the curse, actually.”

“Right. The curse, because that’s definitely a thing that’s… what? Placed upon me?” Hiroto rubs his forehead, hoping that if he willed it hard enough, his migraine would disappear.

“More or less.” Afuro Terumi hums vaguely, concealing any and all sorts of emotion form his tonal voice. “Leaning towards more at the moment.”

“Are you going to explain yourself at some point?” Hiroto sighs.

“I don’t know where to start!” Afuro Terumi only smiles cheerfully. “Why don’t you ask me questions, and I’ll do my best to answer them?”

“Sure.” Hiroto deadpans. “Why not. I don’t suppose you’d like a nice cup of earl grey with that as well.”

“I have my own beverage.” Afuro Terumi gives the wine glass a whirl. The liquid swishes but doesn’t spill. “Even though I can’t actually drink it, since it’s not substantial.”

“Okay.” says Hiroto. “Okay.” he says it again, just to reassure himself. “First question.” His voice sounds a little scratchy. “Are you male? Female? Neither? Little bit of both?”

Afuro Terumi blinks, a slip of confusion seeping out from the painting’s mask. “Seriously? Of all the more pressing matters, that’s your first question?”

Hiroto frowns. “It’s not like I have a limited amount of questions.” he grumbles. “I just… don’t know what to refer you as in my head.”

“Ah. You think about me often?” Afuro Terumi’s face brightens marginally. “That’s very sweet of you.”

Don’t react. Don’t react, Hiroto. “Just answer the question.”

“I am a guy, if you’ll take my word for it.” Something akin to amusement dances in Afuro Terumi’s languidly musical voice. “Or do you want actual proof with that?”

All the blood in his system rushes up to Hiroto’s cheeks, and he curses at himself for being so easy to play. “If it’s not a birth certificate you’re showing me, I’m leaving.”

“You have no sense of humor.”

“You have a twisted sense of humor.”

Afuro Terumi laughs, and it’s a very boyish laugh. “Next question?”

Hiroto points to the plaque underneath his frame. “It says here that your name is Afuro Terumi. Is it?” he asks. “Just to be clear, though. Even if it isn’t, that’s how I’m going to call you for the rest of my life.”

“So you plan on spending the rest of your life with me?”

“Would it kill you to give a clear answer on the first try?”

“It wouldn’t.” he chirps joyously. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve had the chance to converse with other people. Let me have my fun.” He tilts his head slightly to the right. “But yes. That is my name.”

“Afuro.” Hiroto tests it out on his tongue for the first time. It rolls oddly.

“At your service.” Afuro replies smoothly. “But aren’t you going to offer me your name?”

Hiroto makes a face. “Would that potentially endanger my existence?” He’s read a lot of stories about how never to reveal one’s true names to mythical folk. He’s not sure if Afuro applies, but better safe than sorry goes the saying.

Afuro seems to consider about it. Then unsurprisingly, delivers an utterly disappointing answer. “As far as I’m concerned, your existence is already endangered, so you needn’t worry.”

“That’s comforting.” Hiroto mutters under his breath, but obviously there’s no point in arguing, so in a louder voice he says. “Kira Hiroto. What’s the deal about me being cursed and my existence endangered?”

Afuro clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “How do I explain this?” he sets his wine glass down and links his fingers together. “I would start with telling you to stay away if you cherish your life but for a variety of reasons, I will not waste my breath on that speech."

Hiroto stares at him, unimpressed. “That explains absolutely nothing.”

Afuro rolls his bottom lips between his teeth. “I guess there’s no easy way to put this, so listen clearly, Hiroto-kun.” Hiroto’s eyes twitch at the overly friendly title, but doesn’t comment.

Afuro is deliberate and clear when he talks, like every syllable holds a weight. "The moment you entered this room, you're trapped. Not physically. You're able to leave this room at any time, but you'll always always inevitably feel the urge to come back. And when it comes, you won't be able to resist it. That's how my curse works."

Hiroto's lips twitch. "That doesn't sound too bad."

"Right. I suppose I forgot to mention the fact that every time you come in here, I suck a bit of your life away."

"You what?"

-

08.

Afuro falls silent again. He seems to be struggling with how he should arrange his words. It's not a good sign when talking to someone about a very grave and very serious problem, Hiroto should know. He is raised as a corporation heir.

But it's no use ushering Afuro to hurry up either, so he takes a seat on the dusty floor and waits with an erratic anxiety spiking in his arteries.

"How old do you think I look?" Afuro asks after moments of hesitation.

"At a time like this? Really?"

Afuro stares insistently. A hard line sets on his jaw.

Hiroto sighs defeatedly. "I don't know, okay? I'm not some renowned… art inspector. I just know that you're old."

Afuro shakes his head. "My painting is old, but me myself as Afuro Terumi, I'm only in my teens."

"You lost me."

"Time doesn't really work like that for me. When I'm alone, it's like I cease to exist." Afuro explains, resting his chin on his left palm, where he's propped his elbow on a raised leg. "I'm only alive when life approaches me, and that's because I draw the life from living beings. That's why they call me a curse."

"Haizaki said a bunch of people have died here before."

"Your friend is right." Afuro shrugs. "I did that. I mean, their lives were sucked dry, not that I jumped out the picture and shagged them with a dagger."

"You can do that?"

"No. I'm trapped between these four pieces of wood." He gestures at the beautifully carved frame walling up the canvas. "It's a very small world."

-

09.

"Your life is on the line here. By entering this room twice, you've already greatly sabotaged your chances of surviving. If you keep this up, you will die. It doesn't matter to me one way or another, but if you value living, please refrain yourself from coming again."

"You sure are full of yourself. So you have a pretty face, you're not that irresistible." Hiroto rolls his eyes.

Afuro simply laughs, and bids him goodbye.

-

10.

Despite being informed directly by the curse's source, Hiroto hasn't been completely convinced about said curse until his feet carries him to the same door three days in a row without thought.

-TBC

I am in a post new series haze so like... I really don’t have that much motivation for Ina Eleven atm oops. (If anyone’s curious, current obsession is Hidamari ga Kikoeru by Fumino Yuki. Slow burn romance. Big rec. Ongoing.)

Also I’m starting year three of high school, so that means I’m about to become very very busy. Activity is going to be undoubtedly wonky. Still, stick around if you’d like. I might drop by with a shitpost of fic once in a while.

For the time being, I await part 3 of TPOAT with you.

Hang in there buddies, and remember to stay hydrated.

[boy-banders-writings]

Habits -- Youngbin

Group: SF9 Member: Youngbin. aka leader of SF9 aka SF9′s dad. Genre: Fluffy fluff with some tension; non!idol Youngbin with some college!AU thrown in and a sprinkle of best friend!Inseong Request: Nope, a little drabble *Requests are Open & I’m back in bidnes* Length: Short|medium|long|idk man

Because he has these habits that will be the death of you.

Youngbin was an enigma. He was alluring and fascinating and just oh-so-lovely. He was both incredible and the slightest bit annoying. He was good at almost everything he laid his hands on. He was like an ethereal jack of all trades. He constantly left you in awe of just what he was capable of. You were lowkey incredibly thankful you got to know him over the last few years after meeting him through Inseong, who was your high school best friend.

He was good at most sports and always made you work hard to try and beat him. He was an incredible dancer and while you weren’t the most coordinated he always danced with you. You’d never admit to him or Inseong that that’s what ignited the fire in your heart that burned for Youngbin. He was also very studious and if he wasn’t in the apartment he shared with Inseong or in the dance studio on campus, he was in the library. Youngbin was incredible in many ways, all of which you could go on and on about for hours. Poor Inseong experienced it once when you were drunk, you did not drink alone with him ever again.

The one other thing about Youngbin that drove you up the wall and left you in awe was his caring nature. In your eyes Youngbin was an actual angel. He always travelled with at least two extra jackets or hoodies in his car when you hung out with him and Inseong. He always made sure you got home after a bar crawl, even if he had a few drinks and had to walk you back to your apartment. He would text you throughout the week to remind you to eat when finals got close and made sure to send you little encouragement texts when you seemed down. The group chat you had with him and Inseong was full of very parental like things, reminding both of you of meals and to rest. The most shocking text he’s ever sent is he reminded you to go buy some “lady products” since your time of the month was just around the corner. You didn’t face him for three days after that because he knew you that well. Since then Inseong has been trying to get you two together because obviously Youngbin cares a lot about you.

Today had been one of his latest attempts. Friday night pizza at the local parlor to celebrate surviving another week of university, his treat. That was enough incentive for you both to clear your schedules to meet for dinner.

However you weren’t prepared for the torture your poor heart would endure. Youngbin had had a good week. He went on to tell you two more about his routines that were getting praised and how he was going to have a spot in the semester Arts showcase, which was a huge deal. He had aced both exams he had earlier that week and his group for one of his classes had finished thier project a week early and already submitted it.

When Youngbin got excited and talked a lot he had the habit of biting and licking his lips more than usual. Which the habit already left you distracted. You had been wanting to kiss Youngbin for the last two years, almost since you first met him. Meaning anytime he did anything to bring your attention to his lips you pretty much died. And his lips were more than kissable, they looked soft and to die for.

“Are you listening (Y/N)?” Youngbin teased, snapping you out of your trace.

“Of course. Professor Kim is considering you to close the showcase out. That’s amazing, congrats.” You smiled at him, feeling at ease when his cheeks turned pink.

“Yea that’s really cool man!” Inseong chimed in. “Who else is she considering?”

“Just a few other performers, there’s four total up for the ending spot. Two are instrumentalists and the other is another dancer. All incredible.” Youngbin’s hands twisted together.

“Hey, whether or not you get the spot being considered is huge. And you’ll get to show off all your hard work regardless.” Your hand rested on his, stilling their movement, before his eyes shot up to yours.

“Exactly.” Inseong chimed in again, watching the interaction with a smug expression. “And we’ll be there, front row, to show our support.”

“Yes! I’ve already bought tickets!” You beamed, “So you can’t say no.”

“Thanks.” Youngbin looked down at your hand on his for a moment. “Seriously, you two are the most supportive people in my lives.” He bit his lip.

You were about to say something when the waiter brought your pizza out and Youngbin slowly pulled his hands away from yours. He always got shy when you and Inseong praised him so much. You looked up to see Inseong giving you his infamous, ‘do something’ look. You looked over at Youngbin to see him already plating pizza. He handed the first plate to you before getting Inseong and himself some. You took the plate from him and your fingers touched. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest from the warm feeling that started from the place of contact. You watched as Youngbin’s tongue quickly darted out to wet his lips before he tore his eyes from yours.

He was trying to kill you.

Inseong started the conversation up again, asking about plans for the rest of the night and if you wanted to come back with them to watch a movie or something.

“I’d love to, really, but I have a paper due Monday I haven’t even started on.” You giggled uneasily, watching them both give you disapproving looks. “It’s only 3-5 pages and I have the topic picked out, no need for the scowls.”

“We shouldn’t stay out too late then.” Youngbin said after he swallowed a mouthful of pizza. “You lose motivation after midnight.”

“Way to call me out.” You grabbed your shirt over your heart. “I’m hurt.”

“He’s right.” Inseong stuck his nose up a little. “No one knows you better than Youngbin.”

“Of course I know a lot about the people I care about.” Youngbin countered as if it was no big deal.

“Right.” Inseong looked skeptically at his friend. “I’m gonna get a refill, you two need anything?”

“Please.” You held your nearly empty glass out for him.

“I’m good.” Youngbin nodded as Inseong took your cup and walked away.

“Ah, I have something to show you!” You rushed to pull your phone from your little purse as you remember this cool dance video you saw on instagram.

You continued to eat your second slice of pizza as your searched for the clip again. Painfully unaware of the way Youngbin was watching you, and admiring the way the light from your phone lit up your face in the dim parlor. When you had found it you grinned to yourself before jerking your head up. Your eyes locked with his. Time stood still, this hadn’t happened before. It never felt this intense before. Your gaze moved to his mouth again when he licked his lips again. The video forgotten for a moment as the two of you had a silent moment.

“You uh,” Youngbin started as he scooted forward on his chair. “You have -- hold still.” His hand moved from his side and his thumb rested on the corner of your lips. His forefinger curled under your chin as he, almost teasingly slow, wiped the bit of pizza sauce at the corner of your lip. “There, even a little sauce can’t ruin your beauty.” He mumbled to himself as he rubbed his thumb onto his napkin.

“Th-thanks.” You nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat. “I found the video.”

In the next second it was all back to normal. Youngbin scoot forward and pushed the pizza to the side to get a better look at your phone. Inseong sat back down by the time the video ended, he was the only one aware of how red your face had gotten. He gave you a suspicious look but you jus shook your head, if he wanted to know you could tell him later.

You finished the pizza with their help rather quickly and since you had a paper to write, as did Inseong but he didn’t announce it, the bill was paid and the three of you left the restaurant. Since it was so close to summer break the soft spring breeze was welcoming and refreshing. You walked between your best friend and crush with a light heart, despite of how erratically it was beating just twenty minutes ago. It was just late enough that the sun had started to set so the view for your walk home was breathtaking. Without overthinking you looped your arms with both guys and walked happily.

“Inseong you can head straight back, I’ll walk (Y/N) home.” Youngbin break the comfortable silence as you came to the fork in your path, they stayed in the complex two blocks to the right and you stayed in the complex four blocks to the left.

“Alright, I’ll see you when you get back man.” Inseong winked at you as he hugged you. “Good luck with your paper, if you’re done by tomorrow night, movie at our place.”

“Yea, yea. Challenge accepted.” You smiled at him, not realizing the double meaning to it.

“I expect to hear all about it.” Inseong replied easily before he patted Youngbin on the shoulder and went right.

“Thanks for walking me back.” You said once you and Youngbin had started down the first block.

“I’d be worried till you texted me you where home anyway, so it saves me the stress.” Youngbin admitted with a quick lip bite as he looked anywhere but you.

You hummed in response as you looked away, the urge to kiss him suddenly all you could think about. You completed the second block by the time the double meaning to your last conversation with Inseong clicked in your mind. You stole a quick glance at Youngbin to see him already looking at you. Your eyes flew to the bench far off in the distance before you took a deep breath.

“I like you, Binnie.”

“I like you, (Y/N).”

Both of you froze. Your head swiveled to Youngbin and he gawked at you.

“Really?” You squeaked.

“Yea.” Youngbin nodded, bottom lip between his teeth again.

“I’ve been waiting to hear you say--”

Youngbin cupped your cheeks and kissed you. It was all you could have ever imagined it to be and more. It ended as quickly as it started and his eyes were wide.

“Sorry, I just, I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”

You kissed him then and returned the favor. There was a moment where you felt like your heart was going to burst before you pulled away from him. This had been the focal point of your dreams for months, you’d been secretly so in love with one of your best friends for so long it didn’t feel real.

“What a development.” Your head snapped to the left to see Inseong peeking from behind a tree. “Finally. I’m done being the inconspicuous middle man. Have a nice night, I’m locking you out Youngbin.” And he was gone.

“So.” Youngbin laughed as you hid your face in his shoulder. “Can I stay the night.”

“Of course.” You nodded and started walking again but with Youngbin’s hand in yours.

“You still have to work on your paper though.” He teased only to get a groan from you.

“I know.” You laughed after a moment as you snuggled into Youngbin, ready to talk about this later.

[galaxietm]

NAME!  Josie!  HEIGHT!  5′8″ NATIONALITY!  American! FAVORITE  FRUITS!  Cherry + Strawberries! FAVORITE  SEASONS!  winter, autumn & spring (i legit die in summer lol)  FAVORITE  SCENTS!  coffee, vanilla, apples + cinnamon, mint, chocolate. FAVORITE  ANIMALS! cats, foxes, wolves, dogs (i love animals tbh)  TEA  /  COFFEE  /  HOT  COCOA!  i like all three tbh!! AVERAGE  HOURS  OF  SLEEP! anywhere between 4-8 WHEN  MY  BLOG  WAS  CREATED! late february / early march 2018! RANDOM   FACT!  i stared at this thing for a good ten minutes trying to think of a random fact about myself but hhhhhh i really like raspberry chocolate flavored things + dark chocolate best chocolate / i also really like soft things (blankets + stuffed animals)  FAVORITE  FOOD(S)!  pizza / pizza pockets /   FAVORITE SHOWS!  i dont really watch tv but uhh- glee? i’ve been watching kitchen nightma.res lately if that counts  FAVORITE  MOVIE! into the spi.der verse, big hero 6, goosebumps, moana, into the woods + some more tbh. FAVORITE  VINE!  it is wednesday my dudes SEXUALITY!  tbh some days im straight, other days im pan / demi. what remains is im asexual and just really wanna cuddle. PRONOUNS!  she/her! FAVORITE  BOOK  SERIES!  it was maximum ride and tbh i havent read book-books lately so it’s staying that. FAVORITE  VIDEO  GAMES! the ki.ngdom hearts series / Persona 3 & 5 / Saints Row 3 & 4 /  FAVORITE  BANDS! mayday parade / new years day / panic at the disco / fall out boy / etc... FAVORITE  SUBJECT! i dont know tbh??  GUYS   OR   GIRLS! why not both? LAST  TIME  I  CRIED!  today tbh WHAT  I  SHOULD  BE  DOING!  replies, maybe actually unpacking some more of the boxes because despite me being here w/my roommates since october i’ve barely unpacked two of my boxes  FAVORITE  FANDOM! i dont have a favorite fandom, but the honarable mentions are-- 1) the monster prom fandom, which is?? honestly really chill and a lot of fun; i met some pretty cool people when i had amira’s blog!! / 2) the fandom for asagao academy was?? super freaking chill and accepting like what the heck?? i was in a bad place when i had entered it and everyone was really nice and accepting and helped me get over some bad stuff i had dealt with before i entered it and the fandom (and game it’s for!) will always have a special place in my heart (as cheesy is that is lol)

TAGGED BY! @feltbrve (thanks hon!! <3 ) TAGGING! @wulfriic / @soliborne / @pyrocia / @mythosborne / @mithconception / @paramithi / @burglarbravery / + anyone else who might wanna do it if u wanna

[jane-wei]

3am bordem

1 Favorite place to be?

A quiet cinema with a massive screen

2 Something I can never live without?

Water

3 Hobbies that I’ll never give up?

baking

4 Three words to describe me?

Proffestional, day dreamer, loyal

5 My biggest fear?

ebaressment

6 What makes me angry?

ignorance towards others

7 My inspiration?

creativity and passion of others

8 Favorite wild animal? Why?

any big cats, because they literally are just big cats

9 Favorite food?

pizza, always

10 First memory of life?

probably playing with lego and having my dad make me spaceships out of lego

11 The best advice I got?

write every day

12 Where do I see myself in 10 years?

hopfully own my own flat or house, maybe running my own production company, maybe acting in some plays

13 Books reading these days?

im not a big reader, but when i read i read loads, i must read DUNE soon

14 The fictional character I want to be?

Luke Skywalker

15 My hidden talents?

quiet farts

16 Favorite type of music?

electronic or classical, if its both at the same time its magic

17 When do I feel happy?

when things are going right for collegues or loved ones

18 Which song would I like to hear to be happy?

duran duran ordinary world

19 My favourite word in English?

surety

20 My favorite word in Spanish?

da nada, that count as two?

21 Top 3 things on my bucket list?

visit hobbiton, sky diving, meet mark hamill

22 The most heard song in 2017?

redbone by childish gambino

23 Last book you’ve read?

probably a comic book or an excerpt from a book on how to direct actors

24 Favorite quote?

All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken, The crownless again shall be king. 

J.R.R. Tolkien

25 If I had a superpower what would it be?

Creating objects, although that has a lot of responsibility, but it would end world hunger

26 Favorite sport?

rugby, its the only one id watch begining to end, but to play definatly badmington, brutal game

27 Biggest Dream?

be a jedi

28 Favorite Singer?

the chap who won x factor uk last year, Dalton Harris, that guy can create magic

29 Favourite Cusine?

italian

30 A positive quality about me?

I want to know what you have to say, i might get  nervous at the answer or speaking other people in general but im interested

31 A negative quality about me?

push down my self confidence

32 Best place I’ve visited?

brecon beacons in wales

33 When do I laugh the most?

when something is funny, but also breaking through social conventions in a dark kinda way, nothing insulting just a little dark here and there

34 When do I get creative?

when travelling, trains and buses are great, but only when i can see a wide vista, so trains goign through the countryside are ideal, or in a creative soace with othe rlike minded creatives. enough of creativity for now eh?

35 Favorite lyrics?

nothing overlly specific, but i like Plan B’s stuff, Radiohead always do somethign interesting, A Tribe Called Quest are geniuses with words

36 The most scary thing I’ve done?

confront people, its tough, especially when you know something has to be resolved by words and talking

37 Biggest accomplished achievement?

going to film school, something i thought was impossible for a working class lad like me

38 What am I horrible at?

not keeping healthy

39 Favorite book genres?

sci fi and fantasy for sure

40 Any adventurous thing I want to do?

travel

41 Something I would like to try?

sports, i feel that if i was encouraged at school in sports id be a real jockey

42 Optimistic or pessimistic?

depends on the day, optimistic is the goal, that way your always looking up

43 Favorite TV show host?

Mel and Sue, old school bake off

44 A talent I want to acquire?

playing the violin and anoy other musical instrument i can egt my hands on

45 Something from my childhood that I still have?

1 teddy bear and 1 fluffy teddy style cat, those are going to be family heirlooms

46 If I had a chance to change something what would it be?

death of family members, but you cant dwell on such things, itll drive you mad

47 What would I do to calm myself?

music and cleaning

48 When do you find yourself singing?

while out walking or home alone

49 What do I consider unforgivable?

any attack on others, physical, psycological, verbal, insinuated

50 Have I ever sleepwalked?

as a kid yes but not since, if i did id definatly wear some kind of body camera and find out where id go

51 If I got a chance to go somewhere, where will it be?

everywhere, every continant at least 5 times

52 What is my dream career?

feature film writer/director

53 An impossible wish?

a real lightsaber

54 Who is my greatest role model?

i like elders who are accepting of others and those who take great joy in heling others

55 If I could live in any home on a television series, what would it be?

does the U.S.S ENTERPRISE count?

56 Favorite song currently?

Tiny Dancer by Elton John

57 Advice to people?

try to be understanding of others, dont put yourself or your skills down, make every day count, give yourself some credit for what youve done so far, make sure you get a little tlc every now and again

58 How do you handle jetlag?

sleep

59 Describe your style?

nerd

60 Favorite makeup product?

i dont use any, but i do get asked if i use mascara, all natural

61 What’s a guilty pleasure you have?

early naughties action movies, Van Heling with Hugh Jackman the main culprit

62 Favorite Star Wars Character?

The crew of the Ghost, you could never pick one over the other

63 Any pet peeve?

laughs with high pitches

64 If you could die your hair, what color would it be?

red

65 What’s your schedule these days?

in need of a job so a lot of job hunting, school is 2 days a week(ish) got a few writing jobs so putting pen to paper, need to start learnig lines for a play in the summer

66 Have you ever cut your own hair?

only the fringe and i didnt think it was that bad but when i got into school EVERYONE laughed #embaressmentismykryptonite

67 Who’s your style icon?

my friend zach, simple gorgeous colors

68 Do you consider yourself a good liar?

if the lie is a simple one

69 Favorite movies as a child?

star wars, star trek, lord of the rings, predator which i watched way before i was supposed to, i was also in the spy kids generation

70 Last show you’ve binge watched?

star wars rebels and the eric andre show

71 First toy you’ve had?

probably my teddies, but i do remember having star wars actions figures and lego very early on

72 What can you see from your window?

a main road which many buses travel down, a bus stop, a residential row of houses leading to a park, a betting shop

73 What’s for dinner today?

my other half makes great tempe and gyoza