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pinencurls · 4 years

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“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

Hiii so this is my entry to @stellarboystyles‘s three year anniversary fic challenge! I’ve been busy with getting ready for classes starting and balancing other stuff so I wrote it on and off for a week and a bit but I hope you all enjoy! Feedback is so so encouraged and appreciated <3

Here’s my masterlist of some other stuff I’ve written x

Enemies (more like friends but oops) to lovers, prompt 9 “I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

14k+ :) Not read through sorry! pls let me know of any mistakes and I’ll correct them <3 (also i k n o w the title's bad but i couldn’t think of anything, pls feel free to leave any recs.)

- - - -

It isn’t that I hate Harry. He just makes me feel...insecure. He’s never said or done anything directly but it’s hard to feel good about yourself when all your closest confidants seem to compare you to somebody else, somebody they so clearly hold higher above you. There wasn’t a single day I could meet a mutual friend of mine and Harry’s and not have them sing his praises, and apparently everyone was a mutual friend. I’ve known Julia and Theo for years, we all met in uni when they first started going out but it wasn’t until a year ago that I somehow ended up finding myself a regular within the friendship group they’d formed when they both went into the music and fashion industries. They had ties everywhere and after a pure coincidence of running into them and their circle at a pub, almost all my weekends were spent in various art galleries or new restaurants owned by somebody’s cousin or the guy they met last night at a Fleetwood Mac concert.

I’d met Harry about five months into hanging out with the group. He’d known them a lot longer than I had, weaving his way into the little pockets of interesting people for years since the x factor. I was busy with work the first few times he was in town but after a while, Nick, the persistent party planner of the group who always managed to wrangle us together, insisted that I just had to meet him. . . . . .

Eleanor’s house is huge and buzzing with hundreds of strangers. I cling to Julia and Theo’s side, Nick and Eleanor are nowhere in sight - most likely playing host or drinking too much chardonnay in another corner of the house. These four are the only people I can say I really know here, sure there are a few familiar faces on the dance floor, either from having met them at any of Eleanor's past elaborate parties or just because of they’re not so subtle fame. That’s another thing, all the people sipping wine and dancing around me are fairly...well known. Either just within the industry or to the general public too, they’d all gain fairly high status. It was a fluke really that I got on so well with Julia when we first met on a fashion course in uni.

Julia had big goals, all of which she was on track to fulfil, that conflicted slightly with mine. Her goals consisted of runway show models clad in designer brands she might one day contribute to whereas mine were more...anti, that whole world. It took a few years to find a steady footing but eventually, I was proud of where I’d ended up: a comfortable little cubby in the fashion and sustainability columns of a handful of independent magazines. After a few nights out with Julia, I was pleasantly surprised to find her shared interests and solidarity in my work and ambitions of her own within the same ideology. But whilst that’s all well and good, I’m still very much the small indie journalist that slips through the cracks when it comes to small talk at these kinds of events. It became apparent pretty quickly that my latest articles on how fast fashion had begun its destruction of a liveable environment in developing countries weren’t as relevant or interesting to the people promoting Prada and Calvin Klein as the next met gala theme.

“Do you want another drink?” Theo asks from beside me, pulling my focus from my scan of the room.

“No thanks..I’m good.” I murmur, debating how long I have to stay before I can slip out and feel a little less awkward around all the people I have no clue how to talk to. “Think I’m gonna head off actually..”

“Look I know you hate networking, but this is just a chill get-together yeah?” Theo chuckles, squeezing my shoulder before taking another sip from his gin and tonic. “We’re in the same boat about these snooty things but tonight’s not like that, relax a bit will ya.”

Theo works mostly with small-time music artists, producing debut albums and such so we share the same deep discomfort for the many events we often find ourselves at. It’s how we got close really, week after week we’d trail behind Julia as she strikes up conversations with Hollywood elite...and he always makes getting piss drunk in someone’s pool house exceptionally fun.

Before I can further any excuses about getting home to start on the legitimate and ever-growing pile of work deadlines on my desk, a tall man in far too much Gucci to belong anywhere but in a room full of models and artists makes a beeline straight from the bar to our awkward party.

“Harry!” Theo shouts, embracing the slightly tipsy man in a hug he reciprocates.

“It’s been too long mate, how ‘ave you been?” Harry cheers, leaning back from the hug and grinning down at his friend.

“I’ve been good - busy, enjoying the free bar as always.” Theo jokes, motioning between his and my matching G and T’s. Harry’s eyes wander up from the drink, realisation dawning on his face as he smiles again.

“Ah and you must be the famous Olivia,” He reaches his hand out to mine and shakes it lightly. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, ‘m Harry, it’s good to finally meet you, love.”

“Likewise.” I smile, trying to suppress the blush his words of endearment tease. I can’t deny the natural charm and charisma everyone always talks about now that it’s hitting me straight on. There’s something about the way he doesn’t hesitate to hold eye contact just that little bit longer that makes the room go still for just a second. He’d got it down to a T.

“Aww I see you two have finally met!” Nick interrupts. My hand falls from Harry’s grip as he’s welcomed into another hug. “About fucking time as well, been trying get this one to take a night off for weeks!”

“I literally came out with you last Thursday!” I counter, not missing the smirk setting on Harry’s face as he watches Nick and I’s back and forth. “And the Saturday before, come to think of it I’m always out with you Nicky.”

“Not when Harry’s in town though n’ that’s a different kinda night.” Nick laughs, his beer sloshing slightly in his free hand as his other remains draped over Harry’s shoulders.

That was maybe the first sign of my slight resentment for Harry. All night I wandered around with Theo hearing little bits of conversations, all surrounding the star of the party. I understood this wasn’t his doing, his humility was clear in every one of his bashful attempts to turn the conversation away from his growing achievements and onto literally anything else. He was, however, a self-proclaimed narcissist. Every time somebody would swoon over him and insist he stay the topic of conversation, a smirk tugged at his lips and stayed there as he consumed the endless and animated praise from almost all the party guests.

I’d expected some of his qualities to be untrue, learning from the past never to believe blindly of someone’s pure character when you didn’t truly know them. Especially when they frequented the gossip columns. But it wasn’t him so much, he was true to his motto of kindness and courteous even as people fawned over him, it was more the attention that surrounded him. As the night went on it became clear what Nick meant even if he didn’t know it himself. A night out with Harry was different because everyone made sure to capitalize off how different he made them feel.

. . . . .

“Can I get you anything else M’am?” The young waitress asks as she clears up my empty mug and saucer. My eyes falter a little as they adjust from the blue light of my laptop I’ve been staring at for the last twenty minutes.

“Um- oh please could I just get a refill?” I ask.

“Sure thing - mint tea right?” She smiles, adjusting the mug in her hands to make a quick note.

“Yeah..s’perfect - thank you.” She’s gone before she hears my delayed gratitudes, definitely used to the throngs of bemused writers tapping away at their laptops for hours.

I turn back to my open google doc. So far it’s written in two parts I have no idea how to connect and my senseless rereading hasn’t resulted in any legitimate progress in almost an hour. I’d accept the rut I’m stuck in and work on something else for the day if I didn’t only have the day. Last night had been filled with plans of settling in early and finishing the last two thousand words on an upcoming sustainable clothing brand. That all went out the window of course as my phone buzzed off the kitchen counter with Nick’s insistence of yet another night out to celebrate ending the work week - his was quite different to mine. It was easy to ignore the persistent beeping of my phone as new texts and call notifications popped up every three minutes, but less so when the rhythmic bursts of noise were replaced by knocks on my front door.

Within 40 minutes of opening it to Nick in a silk shirt and jeans too skinny for someone pushing thirty, I was two drinks in and dancing to Blue DeTiger with a pair of hands on my waist that I didn’t entirely recognise. It was just the six of us: Me, Nick, Ellie, Theo, Julia and Harry.

He was hard to ignore, not that I was trying particularly hard. On the drive over, the limited backseat space in Nick’s car and close proximity had practically forced me into his lap. Even with thighs pressed tightly against each other, we hardly talked, a few polite hellos here and there and then silence as we listened to Eleanor recall her latest night with whichever blonde bassist was her ‘soulmate’ that week. The whole ride over, Harry kept his hands on the thigh closest to the door and leant his shoulders the same way as to touch me as little as possible - which was still quite a lot considering the packed five seater pushing seven passengers. It was fairly common knowledge we weren’t close and I got the feeling he wasn’t too keen on me, but he could at least not act like touching me would be the worst thing ever.

As the night went on he clung to Theo, ever the cuddly drunk, and I stayed more to the pleasant stranger I’d found on the dance floor.

No meanest was ever intended between us but I couldn’t help but watch the kindergarten like bitterness grow as everyone just loved him. We couldn’t go anywhere without a crying fan or two approaching the sweet and smiling man who always answered their questions affectionately and hugged them goodbye. The times he was out of town were always filled with comments about his absence, as if none of us were good enough without his added presence. I couldn’t help but wonder why they even bothered to bring me into their little group. The lack of closeness between Harry and I felt almost like a lack of closeness to the group as a whole, despite how much my individual friendships with everyone advanced.

Just as I thank the waitress - Alice, her name tag read, and take the first sip of my third tea (I had to switch after a particularly strong starter coffee) I notice a familiar man out the corner of my eye looking just as rough as me. Of course he’s wearing it better than I am.

Harry collects a drink from the counter and bows his head slightly in thanks, turning and catching my eye just as he’s on his way out. He waves with his free hand and shoots me a candid smile before making a quick change in direction towards my small table.

“Long time no see,” He pulls the chair opposite me out a little as he chuckles at his own joke. He perches lightly, temporarily. “How’ve you been?”

“A little hungover, I won’t lie..” I laugh, surprised by the whole encounter. “You?”

“Same, I might have had a shot or two too many,” I nod knowingly and shut my laptop softly. He sips what smells like coffee before going on. “Are ya workin? Sorry to interrupt.”

“Oh no- I mean I am but it doesn’t matter really, ‘ve kinda hit a dead end.” His eyes hover, waiting for me to go on. “I was gonna get it done last night but Nick had other plans..”

“Yeah Nick’ll do that to you,” He laughs, “What’re you writing ‘bout?”

He leans slightly forwards, holding eye contact and shuffling comfortably into his chair.

“Oh just this promotional piece on a new company, they’re hiring young women and training them to make these handmade clothes. They’re paying them above minimum wage and focusing on sustainability so this editor I’ve written for before offered me it.” I’m not really sure how sincere he is in his curiosity, he always seems to have time to listen when Julia has a new design plan or Theo’s found a new artist but that’s different really. I stop before I start to ramble, just in case.

“That’s so cool, what kinda stuff are they making?” He prompts, resting his chin on his fist, imitating the posture of an eager little kid.

“They've started stocking stuff by other independent artists but mostly dungarees and these cool cord trousers, they’d suit you actually, even got some 70s style ones.” Now that the two worlds are colliding in my head, I can’t help but imagine Harry in a pair of their forest green cords, the wide legs would almost bury his vans but a part of me is pretty sure he’d love them.

“Thanks, if they come at your recommendation I might have to get my hands on a pair,” He smiles, his tone’s a lot different to the usual polite cheer, it’s difficult to place where it’s landed before he’s talking again. “Reminds me of that show you took us to with the upcycled clothes, all those dungarees made of old quilts - remember?”

It’d been a small exhibit just outside of London I’d mentioned offhandedly and somehow ended up showing everyone around. It was nice to have them all in my world for an evening. Marcus, a friend of mine from college, had put it together and created a lot of the pieces. He and the others I’d met through my work were fairly shocked to say the least when Harry Styles came traipsing through the doors behind me. All night he quietly asked Nick questions, to which Nick only responded by motioning towards me and wandering off to the bar.

“I do - I’m surprised you do to be honest.” It slips before I can decide if it sounds passive aggressive or not. To be fair, it had been a surprise to me, meeting everyone at the train station and watching Harry and Nick scramble out a taxi and run towards us. He’d been dressed in proper gallery attire and seemed genuinely thrilled to be joining in on the rare night I actually played host.

“Course I do, it was a good night...I’d choose it over Nick’s tequila Tuesdays anyday.” His phone buzzes on the table, a text popping up in green. “Oh I- my manager’s waiting sorry.”

A sheepish smile is accompanied by a loose arm movement towards the door where, out on the street, I see Jeff. He’s shaking his head and motioning for Harry to hurry up. Had Harry sat down to talk to me whilst his manager had been waiting this whole time?

“It was good running into you, good luck with it all,” He stands. “See you friday yeah?”

I’d totally forgotten about his “Whenever I’m in town Friday film night.” until he mentioned it. I’d been twice in the past and stayed quietly to my corner of the sofa, only watching as everyone else laughed at whatever romcom had been chosen that night.

“I-maybe.” He shakes his head as I smile, not quite ready to commit a whole evening to watching Nick raid Harry’s wine cellar.

“You better, I’m gonna need to hear more ‘bout those cords.” He points his hand in a kind of joking reprimand/wave before he’s gone back down the aisle of tables to the door where Jeff ruffles a hand through his hair and laughs when his hands fly to fix the now birdnest of brown curls.

I open my laptop back up, skimming over the last few lines I wrote to get myself back on track. I take a sip and my tea’s gone cold.

. . . . .

“Are you coming to Harry’s tonight?” Eleanor asks down the phone, her voice chipper as she no doubt raids her closet.

“Maybe, I don’t know..I’ve got this deadline Monday morning that I’m nowhere near meeting.”

“Come on Liv, we haven’t seen you all properly together since last month, and last week doesn’t count it was too loud to actually talk!” She chimes in, the sound of clothes being tossed to the floor clear in the distant background. “Have you got a problem with Harry or something?”

“No Elle, of course I don’t-”

“Then why do you guys never talk? You hardly come with us when he’s around and when you do you barely even say hello.” Eleanor complains, she’s mentioned it in the past but it’s been easy to blow off with excuses of how busy he usually was making his way around the room to greet everyone or how we just hadn’t known each other that long and weren't particularly close yet.

“I just...I don’t know, I don’t think he likes me very much.” I pause. I still haven't decided what last Saturday was in the cafe. “We’re not really close and I’d prefer not to spend another night listening to people tell him - and everyone else - how great he is.”

“You’re saying that like he’s some arrogant twit, if you came out with us more you’d see what he’s really like around his friends. Or you know, you could actually talk to him when we’re together and see that he’s not a dick?”

It was a fair point. I haven’t made much of an effort over the past year to spend any time with him outside of larger gatherings or to have genuine conversations with him that went past the weather or a new jacket one of us had on. Maybe he really is a good guy away from all the pretentious crowds and watchful eyes he usually called to our group. He’d certainly seemed different in the quiet Saturday surroundings of Blondies Coffee Roasters in between sips of coffee.

“Okay, okay yeah I’ll see you there.” We hang up a couple of minutes later and I’m left alone in my kitchen again.

. . . . .

“Hey!” Harry cheers as the door swings open to reveal him in yet another pair of flared pants that hung comfortably around his waist. “Come in, come in.”

We all pile in through the doorway as he steps aside. Arms weaving through each other as we hang coats and jackets and Julia passes Harry the fruit platter she’d made (and scolded us all for picking at on the drive over.)

“Oh very appropriate,” Harry laughs as he uncovers the tray to reveal an array of sliced watermelon, strawberries and grapes, He sets the fruit down on the table in the lounge for us all to eat and shakes his head lightly. I look up at Julia for an explanation but she’s too busy claiming the comfiest loveseat for the night. “I’m never telling you anything again, Jules.”

Julia and Harry tease each other for a moment more until Theo catches my confused stares and laughs to himself.

“Harry wrote a song ‘bout fruit- another one actually,” Theo starts, tucking himself beside Julia and letting her take over before he can finish. “S’not just about fruit though is it H?”

Harry blushes slightly and settles his glare on Julia as he carries six wine glasses through to the table.

“‘S about watermelon, it just has some..” He clears his throat as he fumbles for his next sentence. “Other themes to it too.”

“As if mate,” Theo’s laughter booms, “ Basically Liv, he wrote this new song the other day all about how much he loves to-”

“Watermelon!” Harry yells, pointing an accusatory finger at Theo. “S’all about how much I love watermelons...I’m a fruit guy.”

“Oh are we talking about the pussy song?”

All heads snap round to see Nick, obviously having let himself in and now chuckling softly to himself as he leans against the archway into the room.

“Oh sorry H, were you tryna give an interview answer?”

Harry just slaps his palm over his eyes and lets his shoulders shake for a minute before he bounces back to host mode.

“Okay!” I can’t help but notice how flushed the tips of his ears are as he claps his hands together, desperately trying to move on from the conversation. “Who wants wine?”

Fifteen minutes later everyone is settled onto the sofas with an array of throws between us and a layout of fruits, crisps and other mid rom com snacks that make me feel bad I left my flat in too much of a hurry to remember anything but hummus.

“Okay - Sixteen Candles, When Harry Met Sally or Mamma Mia?” Nick calls out, waving the tv remote above his head to get everyone's attention. An outpour of votes follows - you’d think between only six of us we’d be able to sort out a process by now but still we fall into momentary anarchy as the room divides.

“Mamma Mia is a classic!” Eleanor protests as Nick’s shaking his head.

“And Billy Crystal isn’t?” He yells back, eyes wide and genuinely offended.

“Colin Firth is arguably more iconic, Nick really, come on.” Theo sighs. He accepts the high fives Ellie and I reach out to him and saluts us both.

“We’ve all seen Mamma Mia before though, we’ve never watched When Harry Met Sally all together,” Julia points out, winning a smirk and nod of approval from Nick.

There’s a beat of silence while Nick weighs up the votes in his head. He tilts to the side slightly and eyes Harry up, our gazes following.

“Harry?”

“Ellie?”

“Come on, you’ve got the last vote here, and I know how much you like Meryl.” Nick gasps a little, the mention of Meryl Streep as a wager to win Harry over to his opposing team was definitely foul play in his eyes.

“Yeah but he loves When Harry Met Sally...and he is a narcissist..” Julia offers into the debate, a few snickers follow her comment before we all turn to look at Harry. We’re all already half a glass in but I could swear for just a moment his eyes lingered over me, fluttering down to my smile before turning back to announce his decision to Nick.

“I’m afraid I am in the mood for a bit of Abba,” Cheers and not so subtle murmurs of frustration fill the lounge as Nick scrolls through the Romance bar on Netflix before clicking on the film of just over half of our choosing.

Everyone goes quiet as the film starts, breaking out into bursts of song only as the cast does. From the conversation in the car, it’s pretty clear everyone has just been through a pretty tiring week. We all tended to pile our workload a little heavy so it was always nice to escape for a few hours at the weekend and relax together.

Just as Voulez-vous plays through the room, a slightly tipsy Nick leans into Harry to serenade the singer with his own rendition. The duo sway slightly, both narrowly avoiding Nick’s wild limbs before there’s a crash and Harry’s cursing.

“Oh- H, Sorry!”

Nick’s wine glass that’d been balanced on the coffee table in front of him moments before now lays on its side. The, luckily white, wine trickles down onto the rug but most noticeably splashes into Harry’s lap. I’m not entirely sure how he managed it, it must have flown forwards when it was knocked but Harry quickly stands to access the damage.

“I’m so sorry Harry I-”

“Don’t worry mate, I’m just gonna go change and toss these in the wash..could you wipe that up for me?” Nick nods, looking a little less cheerful and a lot more guilty now as Harry makes it way out the room. He calls behind him: “Keep watching I’ll only be a second!”

Nick finishes wiping down the table and rug just as Harry jogs back into the room. I don’t mean to and I’m never one to check people out..unless very subtly, but I can’t help but let my eyes linger a little.

He’s still in his plain tee but instead of his fancy pants he’s found some soft wash denim jeans. The whole look paired with his thick rimmed glasses and how his hair's gotten tousled about by Nick throughout the night just made him look so...ordinary. Not in any bad way, anyone who met Harry knew he could never be ordinary, no matter how casual he dressed, but something about seeing him abandon the more dressed up looks and go for the comfortable option just made him seem different.

In a second his green eyes are complimenting the look too as he gazes down at me.

“Hi,” He mouths, nobody’s taken much notice of his return, yet another musical number taking everyone’s attention. It’s my turn to blush a little now. I avert my eyes quickly, anywhere really, before sneaking a quick look up at him to smile back.

Ellie had helped Nick in the “For fucksake save Harry’s rug it probably costs more than your car” mission and had stolen the seat beside him after they were done. It slipped my mind until Harry set the new bottle of wine on the table and sunk down into the space beside me, He curls one leg underneath him and slips me one more smile before turning back to the screen just as Donna and Sam start singing SOS.

. . . . .

“Ah shit, I think I left my book!” I curse just as we make it down the road to Julia’s car. Parking was shit so by the time we found a spot we’d ended up a good 15 minutes away from Harry’s house. “You guys go on, I’m only round the corner anyway.”

Theo and Julia were familiar with my stubbornness so let me go, yelling their goodbyes after a few hugs as they drove away, Ellie and Nick do the same as they clamber into a taxi. I turn quickly in the chilly air and make my way back down the street to Harry’s drive, punching in the familiar code at his gate before running up to the door hastily.

It was open - as always, so I let myself in. He was probably still cleaning the lounge up after we all got a little too tipsy.

“Hey it’s me...just left my book sorry!” I call down the hallway. It’s quiet despite the light Paul Simon playing in the distance so I make my way quickly to the sofas I’d spent most of the night on, praying to avoid an awkward run-in with Harry.

Although we’d actually shared some light conversation throughout the night and a handful of smiles, I’m not sure we’re quite at the stage in our friendship that me more or less breaking into his house wouldn’t be awkward to run into.

The lounge is empty when I get there. The side tables are still littered with wine glasses and tacky red rings on coasters but no Harry in sight. Or book for that matter.

I start pulling back the cushions carefully - god knows how much they cost. Despite scouring the one spot I’d pretty much clung to the whole night - incidentally beside Harry - I have no luck. Nick tossed the book back to me at some point in the night after reading it by my recommendation but knowing him it could have ended up anyway. I follow the breadcrumbs of our night down another hallway as I vaguely remember Nick talking about a certain plot twist as we searched Harry’s kitchen cupboards for the wine he’d sent us off to restock.

As I come around the white archway into his kitchen I catch a glimpse of him from around the kitchen island. He has his back turned to me but he’s leant forwards against a counter with ring covered fingers clutching the edge, a glass of amber liquid set slightly away from him.

“Oh, sorry I was just-” He jumps a little at my voice, turning quickly to face me with his now free hands coming up to hold his chest. When his eyes finally meet mine they’re red and it takes a second for him to register the tears still streaming from them before he replies.

“Shit, fu- what are you..are you alright?” His hands bat between tangling into his hair and wiping the tears from his cheeks, anything to avoid actually looking up at me again.

“Yeah, I just..um..left my book,” I mumble, taking a step closer to him when I notice how his hands shake as they move timidly around his face. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Uuuh um.” He wanders for a moment before slapping a palm lightly atop the counter and pulling out his infamous grin. “Nothing much, how bout you - find your book?”

“-Harry..” I take another step close, “I know we’re not, ya know..close. But you can talk to me.”

There’s a beat of silence when he keeps up the act, I’d almost believe it if it wasn’t for his bloodshot eyes and anxious fingers drumming against the tile.

“What’s wrong?”

He pauses for a moment, assessing whether or not to tell me whatever’s weighing so heavy on his shoulders. But the dam bursts.

“Fuckin’ everything Love” He laughs, rubbing his palms over his face. I try to focus on the matter at hand: Harry weeping in his kitchen. But that name’s only ever left his mouth directed at me a handful of times and it’s never made my stomach flutter quite as it did just now. “Just..Fuck I’m so lonely Olivia.”

I don’t really know any of the details but between conversation - mostly overheard, and the media frenzy, it was hard not to be aware of Harry’s break up two months ago. I can’t claim we were close enough to discuss it, having hardly ever talked beyond trivial issues, but I knew that despite them only being together two or so months, he’d been incredibly distant for the weeks that followed the break up.

“I hear about you and Aubre..I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you guys-” Harry laughs almost, a pained sort of chuckle that told me I was way off with this one.

“It’s not..that isn’t why I..” He takes a deep breath before lifting his head up slightly to focus on where his fingers still tapped out a nervous beat on the counter. “I was lonely before her...and with her. I just, I can’t seem to get it right ever...feels like nobody wants to be with me for the right reasons.”

“Hey no..what about tonight? Your house was full of so many people who love you yeah? Maybe your bougie wine collection had something to do with it but still,” He laughs at that, peeking up from behind his fringe for just a moment. “They- we love you ‘k?”

“I know but, ‘clock hits the am and everyone leaves, it just gets...it gets so fucking lonely to see everyone in perfect pairs ya know?”

I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m doing it - my arms wrap over his shoulders and lock with a hand at the nape of his neck. We’ve never hugged before beyond a general greeting but anyone watching wouldn’t know it, his face burrows quickly into my shoulder and his arms cocoon over my waist, holding me tightly and slipping under the thick layers of my jacket.

“I know exactly what you mean, H.”

The hug lasts longer than I imagined it might. He smells of vanilla and the coffee he brought back in bulk from Jamaica. He lets out a shaky breath and melts further into me, nuzzling my neck softly with the tip of his nose. His curls are soft between my fingers and I find myself shhing him, lulling us both into a tired kind of calm.

Another moment passes in the silence of his kitchen before Harry lets out an awkward cough and straightens up, pulling out of our hold and immediately covering his face with his palms again.

“I..sorry Jules and Theo must be waiting for you..” Harry murmured, wiping the last of his tears away and letting his hands fall and fidget by his sides.

“Oh no don’t worry they..um they already went I was actually just gonna walk.” I tell him, making his head perk up a bit.

“Wha-It’s past twelve Liv it’s not safe, how far do you even live?” He clears his throat and his voice is clearer now, it feels like a whole different world to the one we were in just a minute ago.

“It’s fine honestly, only take like thirty minutes walking - I’ve done it before-” I ramble, eager to put this situation behind me before I embarrass myself anymore.

“No - let me drive you yeah?” Harry shakes his head, adamant.

“Harry..we’ve been drinking all night, I think that’s more dangerous than me jus’ walking.” I laugh, holding his gaze for a second longer than I usually would - fuck, how do we usually act around each other?

Before I come to a conclusion, his eyes rest heavy on mine and I can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to work his way out of this one. Ever the people pleaser.

“Then stay.”

“Harry-”

“You said you know how it feels.” He cuts in, unwavering now as he doesn’t let my eyes fall from his. “So stay …’s safer anyway.”

. . . . .

“I can take the sofa, really Harry I don’t mind,” I reassure as he tosses me an old t-shirt and joggers to sleep in. “It’s comfier than my bed anyway.

His guest bedrooms had just been painted and were still pretty fume filled so the sofa or his bed were the only options. For twenty minutes now he’s tried to convince me to take his bed and leave him on the sofa, despite the fact we both know he’s a little too tall to sleep without his feet hanging off the end.

“But you’re my guest!” He protests again, coming up from his wardrobe to stand in front of me, hand on hips and an expression of concern on his face.

“And you’re almost six foot!”

“Hey, I am six foot.” He takes a deep breathe, exhaling through his nose in defeat before speaking again. “Okay, you can sleep on the sofa but if anyone asks I was the perfect host and you bullied me into this.”

I laugh softly, this whole new side of Harry had never been directed solely at me before and it was honestly refreshing. Usually Nick or another friend was the target of his jokes and playful demeanor and I only noticed it from afar but now he was right in front of me, hauling pillows off his bed and sticking his tongue out when he caught me staring.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” He asks for the third time since I agreed to stay the night. We’ve just finished setting up the sofa to sleep on and despite the duvet and many quilts far more lush than my own actual bed, he seemed unconvinced it was enough.

“I’m sure” I sit back into the pile of blankets and pillows, tucking my feet underneath me and looking back up at Harry. “If you’re really not, just come watch a film with me and see how cozy it is.”

The quick change in dynamic was a lot smoother than I’d imagined. Within an hour of being alone together we’d already talked more than in all our past interactions, not to mention how close we’ve gotten. He only nods his head quickly and he’s settling under a quilt beside me, rummaging around for a controller to pull up netflix again.

“Mamma Mia two?” He asks.

I chuckle a bit and nod. At the beginning of the evening I hadn’t quite seen it ending in a Mamma Mia marathon with just me and Harry.

He presses play and as the opening display begins we both lean back into the sofa and pull the blankets up over us. It’s only in the quiet of the first few scenes that I notice we’re matching. We’re both dressed fully in his clothes, grey joggers and t-shirt - his rolling stones, mine fleetwood mac. And it all smells of him. I pull the blanket a little higher over my chest and the faint, but now familiar, scent of vanilla and coffee fills my lungs and for a second all I can focus on is how desperately I want to be in his arms again.

. . . . .

“-ow” A groggy voice mumbles from above me and I feel myself being pulled forwards slightly against something hard - and warm.

I’m a few seconds from falling straight back asleep before I feel the painful ache in the side of my neck. I reach a hand up to gauge my current situation and feel my fingers plunging into soft hair - soft hair that ends too soon to be mine.

“Hi..” I recoil my hand quickly back to my side and push myself up so I’m sitting slightly. I look down and see Harry, half asleep still and hand still resting on my side.

“Oh-hey sorry,” What do you say when you wake up beside the guy you barely knew but simultaneously had been incredibly vulnerable with just the night before?

Harry seems to be waking up now and certainly more aware of our predicament as he pulls his hand away from where it was holding firmly onto the material of my - his - t-shirt and pushes himself up to sit against the arm of the sofa.

“We must have fallen asleep..sorry I didn’t mean too, ya know…” His eyes flutter between where I sit opposite him and the “Are you still watching?” Netflix screen.

“It’s fine, accidents happen an’ everything.” I smile, slipping out from the warm cocoon of blankets to stand. “I’m just gonna wash up quickly and I’ll be out of you hair.”

Before I can rush off to tame my hair and hopefully find some toothpaste to rid me of my morning breath, Harry clasps his hand gently around my wrist and tugs slightly to get my attention.

“Not in a rush Love, I’ll make us some breakfast.” He says it effortlessly, like it was a regular occurrence for us to fall asleep cuddling on his sofa. He stands, groaning as his knees pop appreciatively and lets my hand go before he’s disappearing into the kitchen.

“Okay…” I murmur to myself. “....okay.”

. . . . .

Alice is back at my table with my second refill before 11am. I thank her and take a gulp of the fiery ginger tea before reading over the last three paragraphs I just wrote. The spice licks my tongue as I tip the cup up for a second sip; it’s autumn after all.

In the last two weeks September had slipped into October and all the trees in London had received the memo. I’d been busy, hoaled up in the quietest corner of Blondies the whole time with coffee filling all my senses. I haven’t seen everyone together since that night at Harry’s. I grabbed lunch with Eleanor the Monday afterwards and told her nothing, preferring to avoid the texts my phone amassed over the fortnight. I've turned down all proposed group activities and focused on work instead. To be fair, I do have a lot to get done. There were always seasonal pieces in my to do list and with the weather getting colder it was time I got to them before it was Christmas already.

I haven’t talked to Harry either. He made us pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup in the morning and we haven’t even texted since; I’m not sure that we even have a private text between us. Eleanor and Julia have told me how much fun they’ve all had the times I’ve politely but persistently declined, I can only assume Harry’s in the mix with them all. He’s in town for awhile if I’m remembering our breakfast chatter correctly, it makes sense that they’re all hanging out together really when they don’t often get time together. Ellie’s phone calls keep me from sliding into thoughts of how easily I could fall right out of the group and not be missed, at least. I was just taking space for work. The fact that most of my afternoons at the cafe disappeared into me analysing anything I might ever have felt or said to Harry means nothing at all.

Neither does the heightened pace of my heartbeat when he walks through the stiff wooden doors of Blondies.

He orders what I assume is his regular black coffee, scans the room for a second and lands directly on me. He hesitates a little to hold my gaze, turning his head to look outside before looking back at me and smiling. He thanks the server and takes a few quick steps towards me, weaving in between the packed tables to my little spot hidden away in the corner.

“Hi,” He smiles again, although his toneos overshadowed by a slight anxious hilt. “Can I sit?”

Nodding, I close my laptop and pull my tea closer to me to make a space for him.

“Hi.” He repeats, smiling a little sheepishly.

“Hi,” I wait a second, nervous to start when I’m so unsure of how this conversation has already gone in his head. But he doesn’t say anything so I push through and bite the bullet against my better judgement. “Look, about that Friday I-”

“Can I just-” He cuts me off, leaning forwards and opening his hands out as he mulls over his next few words. “I’m sorry if it was awkward at all, I didn’t mean for anything to happen and I thought we were fine an’ everything but then I haven’t seen you in two weeks and Ellie keeps saying you’re not comin’ out. Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh god no,” I hurry, “You didn’t do anything it was just - I didn’t expect to wake up..like that...and it was just a really quick change because we’ve never really been close and suddenly it was just, us, like that.”

He nods, pushing a loose curl back a second later that broke free in the motion. He seems understanding as he looks down before leaning his elbows against the table so only the two of us can hear what he’s about to say.

“I know, I didn’t expect it either but, can I just tell you I’m glad that it happened?” He leaves a three second pause for me to flounder in confusion before continuing. “What I told you, ‘bout feeling lonely, it messes with my sleep all the time. I just get stuck in my own thoughts but the night you stayed over I slept fine - perfect even.”

Not sure what else to do with this new information, I nod for him to continue.

“I know we’ve never been close, but hanging out with you just really calmed me down.” He smiles, gaining confidence now in his vulnerability tucked away in our little hiding place. “Thank you for staying.”

“I get what you mean.” I mumble, slightly anxious any of the busy customers with prying eyes could overhear my confession. “I never really know when to stop working and I think I got the best night sleep on your sofa I’ve had in awhile, which really speaks volumes about how crappy my mattress is.”

He chuckles. Relief seems to settle in as he lets his shoulders relax and face soften.

“I was thinking - especially now that I know it was good for you as well, maybe it could become more of a regular thing?” He asks, his forefinger and thumb pinch together and twist one of his rings a little - a nervous habit, I’m sure.

“How do you mean?”

“Like..when we all go out, maybe we go home together, you know - so we can sleep better.” He moves down to focus on the metal rose he’s still fumbling at. “If..if you don’t want to or you think it’d be weird it’s fi-”

“I’d like that.” I reach forwards to comfort him, absentmindedly cupping my fingers around his. “I think it’d be nice, to get a good night's sleep I mean.”

“I’m glad.” He beams.

“..That and you make a mean blueberry pancake.” I tease, earning a light chuckle from Harry.

Just like our last cafe encounter, the ping of a his phone beats me to my new few words. He checks it quickly, shaking his head and glancing down the large room to the shop front where, once again, Jeff waits. He seems a little more agitated this time, waving vigorously whilst trying not to attract the attention of passersby, all rather unsuccessfully.

“Bollocks okay - I’ve gotta go,” Harry swears, collecting his coffee from the table and pushing his chair back quickly. “I’ll just - we can text before we go out next yeah?”

“Cool, yeah - wait a sec, let me just give you my number.” I reach up for him to hand me his phone but he doesn’t make any effort to move, instead he blushes slightly and stares at the floor. “..What?”

“I um, I already have it.” He fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck before talking again. It’s hard not to remember how it felt when it was my fingers carding through his brown curls. “I got it from Theo awhile back when we were going to this thing, felt weird not having it. I hope that..okay and everythin’”

I nod, smiling up at him. The idea of him having a part of me for this past year without me even knowing is oddly precious. The fact that he felt odd about not having my number and going to the effort of getting it from Theo was unbelievably endearing.

“That’s fine, helpful actually.” I smile still, “Text me before we meet everyone and we’ll make a plan or somethin’”

“Okay,” He smirks, his slight cocky nature reemerging. “Will do, Liv. See you soon?”

“See you soon.”

Jeff flies a hand up to his hair like before but this time is met with a grinning Harry who doesn’t seem to mind so much.

. . . . .

Unknown Number

‘Hey! Is tonight good? We can slip off after drinks at the gallery. H x’

I look down at my phone. Caught off guard by the sudden text, I’d almost forgotten out arrangement. Julia invited us all to a gallery opening of one of her friend's new exhibits. Even as I flicked through my wardrobe for the right jacket, I hadn’t put two and two together and realised I’d be seeing Harry again for the first time since our chat at Blondies four days ago.

I save his number and I think quickly, not wanting to leave him on read when he knew I’d be leaving to see them all any second and most likely spend the whole tube journey on my phone.

‘Hi :) That’d work for me yh, just let me know when you want to leave and I’ll make an excuse. Liv x’

With another thought rushing through my head, I send a quick follow up.

‘Can we keep this between us right now? Might be a bit tricky to explain to the others.”

Harry

‘Read my mind love.’

‘See you in a bit :)’

I’m still not the hugest fan of the airy feeling that rushed through my stomach as I read over the pet name. He was just from Manchester, it was normal up there to call everything by casually affectionate little names. It didn’t mean anything at all.

. . . . .

“Livia!” Nick calls out when he sees me scanning over the faces at the entrance to the gallery. I smile instantly and make my way over, quickly falling into his arms as he rocks us for a second. “Haven’t seen you in an age!”

“‘Ve been working, we can’t all piss about Monday to Friday.” I giggle, smiling wide as he murmurs something under his breath and plants a big kiss on my cheek. “Is everyone here?”

I try not to look suspicious when I peak over around us, trying to pick a certain brunette from the crowd.

“Yeah, they’re just over there with Julia’s friend.” Nick points and I see him immediately. He’s dressed just as I expected - half gucci half grandpa sweaters. “I’m gonna get us drinks, meet you there?”

“Mhmmm” I hum, breaking out of his hold and slipping through the crowds to our small group of friends.

“Hi!” Julia smiles brightly. She hugs me quickly before stepping aside to give Eleanor and Theo their turns. They all whisper quiet ‘Missed yous’ in my ear as if I’ve been gone for years.

“Hey,” Harry appears by my side as everyone else turns their attention to the front of the crowd where it looks like the artist is setting up to introduce the night. “How’ve you been?”

“In the last four days?” I chuckle, “Good. Not been sleeping great, but I’ve got a lot of work done so that’s been great.”

He nods approvingly. A smile tugs at his lips at the mention of sleep, almost like some secret inside joke we’ve managed to form between just the two of us.

“Me neither. Jeff’s been buggin’ me what feels like every hour with deadlines.” I find myself squeezing his hand a little under his long coat sleeves so nobody can see. “Looking forward to just collapsing tonight, if I’m honest.”

“Me too.” I smile tiredly, tonight had been a big ask come to think of it. I've had work piled up twice my height all week and even having worked day in and day out I’ve still only made a crack in the mountain of final edits and emails to respond to.

Harry squeezes my fingers back and our hands linger in each other's hold until Nick emerges beside us and the artist begins her speech.

. . . . .

The comfortable chatter surrounding the booth we’d taken up a few hours ago died down as the clock ticked later and later. We’d left the gallery a while ago now in favour of the after party at a pub down the road but by now the heavy scent of beers and various gin based concoctions were giving us all headaches.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night guys,” Harry announces, a slew of groans following from the group. “Sorry, sorry! It’s been great but it’s getting late.”

Julia and Theo move out the way to let him out the booth. He slides across the red cushion to stand, pulling his coat over himself as he sneaks a quick look at me.

“I think I’m gonna head off too,” I smile, waiting for Eleanour to stand and let me out as another wave of complaints flooded me. “Sorry! I’ve got work and the tube’ll be hell any later.”

“Well if Harry’s going too couldn’t he take you home?” Julia suggests, looking between the two of us as we now stand slightly away from each other. “You drove right?”

“Yeah, I did.” Harry turns to smile at me, amused clearly by how our plan was being unknowingly encouraged by our friends. “C’mon, I’ll drive yeh.”

I nod, biting back a smirk. We say our goodbyes and wave as we slip out the heavy pub doors out onto the road outside. It’s started to drizzle slightly and I resent choosing the jacket without a hood.

“I’m just over here,” Harry points a little ways off. “Hurry, think it’s about to pour.”

We walk quickly down the street and through a metal gate into a car park when there’s a loud rumble of thunder and immediately the rain thickens.

“Fuck!” Harry laughs as he scrambles for his keys, we match each other's paces until we’re practically sprinting to his car in the far corner of the lot. The click of the locks sounds out and his lights flash red a second before we’re both pulling the doors open and throwing ourselves inside onto warm seats.

We catch our breath, chests rising and falling with uneven pants before our laughter settles and Harry slots the keys into the ignition.

. . . . .

“Do you want anything to eat?” Harry asks as he closes his front door behind us and we kick out shoes off in his hall. “I think I have some takeout menus somewhere..”

“I’m not really hungry, thanks though,” I cut off his search as he walks through to his kitchen and starts opening draws. “Kinda just wanna go to bed now.”

He nods and rubs a hand under his eye in silent agreement of my exhaustion.

“I’ll make us a tea, meet you up there yeah?” He calls over his shoulder, having turned quickly to retrieve various packets from his cupboards. “Chamomile okay?”

“Yeah chamomiles good,” I hover for a second in the archway leading into the kitchen, suddenly awkward to be alone in his house again. “Where um..where is it?”

He looks over his shoulder at me, slightly confused. His eye brows unfurrow when I motion behind me.

“Oh- just up the stairs and third room down the hall..on the left.” He smiles, turning back to the cupboard to look through his extensive mug collection.

I nod to myself, spinning on my heel and making my way up his stairs. I’ve never gone beyond the downstairs of his house before and even then I stuck to the kitchen, dining room and lounge. It felt odd to suddenly have access to something as intimate as his bedroom, I try not to overthink things as I push open the third door I see.

The first thing I see is his large bed, there’s probably enough room for three people on it and there’s definitely enough pillows to go around. The room as a whole is tidy, whether it’s always like that or only organised so precisely for my visit, I don’t know, but the thought makes my stomach flutter.

I walk up to the side of the bed with no charger on it’s table and set my bag down. We hadn’t talked about the logistics of our...arrangement, but I’d brought the basics to last me through the night. I plug my charger into the wall and take out my wash bag and a set of clothes to sleep in before sliding my bag under the table. I look around for a second. Somehow I hadn’t really thought through the fact that by the end of the night, I’d be in Harry’s bed. With Harry. In a completely platonic way with the only function to soothe our mutually crappy sleeping habits.

I hear Harry walking up the stairs just as I slip into the un suit to wash up and get changed. He’s humming a song under his breath. The clink of mugs being set down is followed by wardrobe doors opening and closing and a light thud of clothes being thrown on the bed.

I wait a few minutes to make sure I don’t walk in on him changing. Opening the door tentatively, I step out into the room in a large sweater and pajama shorts. Harry turns to look at me, he’s in the same t-shirt he wore last time and a pair of boxer shorts and the whole situation suddenly seems so amusing. After just one night of falling asleep on the sofa together, not having ever talked before, here we are standing at our most vulnerable about to cuddle in his bed together.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” He nods, looking down at himself. “Hope this is okay...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or-”

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I didn’t really know what to wear either.”

His eyes flicker down my body and he smiles back up at me. He motions to the bed and we both nod a little awkwardly before making our way over to our sides. I climb in and instantly let a small groan out as my body sinks into the mattress, the pillows and duvet feel almost like a cloud as I burrow under and pull my tea up to my lips.

Harry chuckles from beside me, I peak over the mug to seem him grinning down from where he sits slightly taller in the bed.

“Sorry, you look comfy.” He laughs a little,

“I am, your bed’s insane.” I set my mug down and turn to him, bouncing slightly to emphasise the quality of his mattress that probably cost more than a year of my rent. “I really should start earning millions, feel like it’d suit me.”

He returns his tea to the bedside table and copies me, turning to face me with his legs crossed.

“It definitely would.” He smiles, bouncing a little before I let out a yawn. “Tired?”

“Exhausted.” I mumble, hand still covering half my face. Harry reaches behind him to turn to switch the lights above his headboard off before pulling the duvet back for us to slip under.

“C’mere,” Without hesitating, I shuffle back slightly until I can feel his chest behind me and an arm come up to rest around my hip. “‘This okay?”

“Mhmmm,” I hum, “What about our teeth?”

“We’ll brush ‘em in the morning,” I nod, groaning again as all the aches in my body subside as I sink into his arms and the foam mattress. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I mumble, embarrassed to have let myself go so easily around him. “Your mattress is just unbelievable. Might have to make this a regular thing.”

I speak before I think, mind clouded with sleep and my eyes already fighting to stay open.

“That’s the plan, love.”

. . . . .

When I wake up, Harry’s arms are tight around my middle and his body’s like a furnace behind me. I vaguely recall pulling my sweater off in the night to cool down as I lay now only in a vest and shorts. I slept better than I have in months though, despite the warm breaths on my neck turning my cheeks flushed.

The mix of Harry’s company and his safe haven of a mattress made for the perfect night sleep. I push back slightly into his chest and feel his arms tighten around me and a low murmur of his voice in my ear. The clock on my bedside table reads 6:30. It’s a Saturday and I can quite easily imagine spending the rest of my day - weekend even, exactly like this.

I slip back to sleep for a little awhile before I’m woken up to a low groan behind me. Harry shifts slightly, burying his face in the base of my neck and squeezing around my waist again. He must still be half asleep to be this comfortable with me.

I’m proven right when it takes another fifteen minutes for him to poke his head up over my shoulder and mumble:

“Breakfast?”

. . . . .

Our routine works smoothly for weeks. After sleeping so well the first few times, it became a given that we’d pile into Harry’s car after every night out with our friends and go back to his. Sometimes we’d get takeout or watch a film, but it wasn’t so rare that we’d just stumble out of his car, or a taxi - depending what the night had entailed, and walk with eyes almost closed straight to bed.

I stopped bringing things every night about two weeks in when a new toothbrush appeared next to Harrys and an oversized t-shirt of Harrys found its way onto my side of the bed. We also ditched the awkward pleasantries. Spending two or three nights a week in his house, I’d become pretty familiar with it all. I sometimes brought us breakfast if it was a weekend, or left a coffee beside the bed for him if I left for work first, We had very easily slipped into an oddly familiar sense of domesticity. It was strange to never mention any of it to our friends, it made it special though. We helped each other, and it was all just between the two of us. Nobody else knew Harry taught me how to make coffee just the way he likes it, or that we share his lavender shampoo sometimes.

“Ols?” Harry calls up the stairs to me. We’re running late to Julia and Theos anniversary dinner.

“Coming!” I yell back, reaching into his wardrobe to snatch a jacket before running down the stares.

“Oi! Slow down love, you’re gonna fall,” He complains, holding his hands out at the bottom of the stairs to catch me as I skid a little on the wooden floors of his hallway. “Hey! This’s mine!”

He tugs playfully on the opening of his jacket. I pull the fabric from his grasp and smile up at him.

“Not anymore…” He scrunches his nose up and pulls me towards him. The sudden movement pushed the air from my lungs suddenly. “-Fine! Just for tonight...nobody’ll notice anyway, you only just got his one.”

He shakes his head, bringing his fingers up to tickles across my stomach quickly before letting me go and clapping his hands.

“Shoes now!” He points down at my sock clad feet, “Come on we’re late already.”

I sling my bag over my shoulder and slip my boots on before trailing after him to the front door. He’s pulled his large green coat off the hangar before he’s looking back down at me, brows pulled together in confusion.

“What’ve got yeh bag for?”

“Ah see Harry, I tend not to leave my stuff places I don’t actually live.” I laugh.

“You’re not coming back tonight?” The confusion’s not joined by a hint of sadness as his hands fall from the door knob and he turns to face front on.

“Oh I..hadn’t thought ‘bout that. I’ve gotta water my plants.” I haven't been home in two days, I spent the whole day at Blondies yesterday then headed to Harry's after a few drinks with him and Nick. We’ve hung out around his house all day, sleeping in and finishing our last few bits of work for the week. “I can let them go a little dry I guess-”

“Can I come to yours?” Harry cuts me off to ask. “It’s just, I haven’t ever seen it..and that way your plant’ll be fine.”

I stay quiet for a second. Our world of sleepovers and movie marathons and home made curries for dinner existed within his house. My flat was small in comparisons to the homes of our friends, who were all, delicately put, pretty well off. Not that I wasn’t, I’d just gone into a lower paying area of my industry. I lived alone anyway so there wasn’t much point paying thousands in rent when I didn’t need much space.

“It’s fine it you want a night to yourself I can just-”

“It’s not that, H, I just didn't really think about how we only ever come here.” I mumble the last part, “Come back to mine, I don’t feel like going back on my own anyways.”

I smile a little, unsure of where we stand on the whole admitting we’d grown pretty dependent on each other’s presence, front. He smiles back, twisting the door open and holding it for me as I slip under his arm.

The car clicks unlocked and I settle into my seat. I reach over to push my seat belt in as Harry pulls his door shut and the car rumbles to a start.

“Can’t believe Jules and T have been together so long.” He sighs as we pull out onto the main road.

“Tell me about it,” I gaze out the window as rain dribbles lightly. “Feels like the year just went straight by.”

“They seem so happy still, like they’re still honeymooning,” Harry hums.

“I remember when they just started going out in Uni, even then it was obvious they’d end up together.”

“I like those kinds of people. The ones who make each other just completely themselves, ya know?” He glances over at me before turning back to the road.

“Yeah...they’re proper soulmates aren’t they.”

. . . . .

“Okay but seriously, what the fuck is up with you and Harry?” Eleanor bursts out as soon as we reach the bar. We’ve been sent off to get the third round whilst the others stayed at our favourite booth of the pub we frequented.

“Wait what?” I yell over the loud chatter of the pub, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean!” She’s still waving her hand out for the bartender when she glances down at me again. “You’re tryna say you’re suddenly so close and nothing’s happened between you?”

“We’re not that close.” I quip, “We’ve just talked a bit more lately, I guess.”

“And nothing’s happened?” She raised a brow at me suspiciously. “You guys have left together every night for the past few weeks, just admit you have feelings for each other.”

“No, nothing’s happened.” I sigh, unsure if I sound convincing or not. “We just live close and it’s too cold now to get the tube back so late, he’s just being nice. You know Harry...he’s like that with everyone.”

Eleanor laughs a little, shaking her head. She places our order with the bartender when he makes his way to our side of the bar before turning back to me with her arms crossed.

“He’s nice to everyone, but he’s not just being nice to you.” She smirks, “And he usually doesn't give just anybody his clothes.”

She reaches out and rubs the fabric of my - Harrys - jacket between her thumb and forefinger. She looks up and quirks her brows up a little again. Before I can splutter out an explanation our drinks are being laid out on the counter beside us and Eleanor is pointing to the ones for me to carry and turning back to our booth.

A surge of anxiety washes over me as I follow Eleanor back to the group. My breaths feel unsteady and I can’t help but dart my eyes to get a quick glance at Harry to see if he’s experiencing the same kind of interrogation. He seems fine though, laughing at something Nicks said.

Soon we’re at the booth, slipping back into our seats and setting the drinks out in front of everyone. Harry’s eyes hover on me for a few seconds, brows raised a little in question. I smile and shake my head - everything’s fine.

I don’t miss how Eleanor glances between us throughout the whole night. Especially not when a different two get up for the next round and Harry and I are pushed next to each other when they climb back into the available seats. Harry seems a little suspicious too. He clearly hasn’t noticed Eleanor’s strange behaviour - or doesn’t care - because he’s kept gazing down at me every now and then since we came back with drinks hours ago. When I stop looking up at him, nervous Eleanor might question me about his constant and slightly nervous glances when we’re alone, he reaches his hand under the tables and pulls mine into his lap. He squeezes our hands every now and then. He’s always a touchy, cuddly drunk. Normally it’s a bit more obvious; he’ll wrap his arms around one of us on the dance floor or lap his head on a shoulder, nothing too intimate. Just friendly. But now he’s stroking his thumb over my knuckles and tapping out the beat of the current song playing with his foot, his knee bumping mine.

Julia and Theo are the first to go. Relief settles in me at the idea of not being the first two to leave for once. There’s no way Eleanor wouldn't’ve have noticed me and Harry sneaking the other a glance like we usually do to signal we’re ready to go, without some kind of distraction.

“It was so lovely guys, feels like we haven’t just sat down and talked in so long!” Julia smiles, leaning into Theos side tiredly as they say their goodbyes.

“I think I’m gonna head off too, it’s getting pretty late,” I smile, waiting for Harry to speak when Theo pipes up before him.

“Livs, you want a lift?” Theo looks down at me.

“Oh Olivia, that’s a good idea, you were just saying how it’s too cold for the tube.” Eleanor beams, smiling cheekily as she knows I’m the only one who’ll understand her subtle teasing.

“Oh I-” I stutter before Harry’s squeezing my hand again and looks up at Theo.

“I was actually gonna take her home, we’re only 10 minutes apart so it’s just easier.” He smiles politely, if I couldn’t feel his foot hooking over mine I’d believe he was just being nice and helping out a friend.

“Yeah but you’re gonna stay a little while aren’t you?” Julia countered, “We’re pretty close, it’s fine really.”

I nod, motioning to slide out of the booth. Harry lets me by, dropping my hand before anyone else could see. Julia, Theo and I say goodbye quickly and head out to the car park. As soon as we’re all strapped into their car, I pull out my phone and click Harry’s contact.

Meet me at mine x

Harry

Okay - what was that about?

I’ll explain when u get here, just something w Eleanor

U might have been right about the jacket :/

Theo pulls up outside my flat and I jump out the car, thanking them quickly and waving them off. I climb the stairs of my building and click the keys in my door, pushing it open and kicking my shoes off the second I get in. After a fifteen minute frantic clean, the place is looking slightly better. There’s no time to perfect it as I hear my phone buzzing on the counter, a dorky photo of Harry in one of his infamous sweaters all sprawled out on the sofa and sticking his tongue out at me flashes the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m just outside,” He talks softly, “What number are you?”

“24, wait a sec and I’ll buzz you up.”

I tread quickly to the button by my front door and let him up, hearing a quiet thanks over the phone and a “See you in a sec” before the line goes dead.

A minute later there’s a quiet knock at my door. I open it and see Harry, he looks a little more tired than when I left him forty minutes ago, he rubs his knuckles under his eyes and sighs softly.

“Hey, come in.” I pull the door a little wider, stepping aside to let him inside. He walks past me, eyes watching the floor whilst I lock the up behind us and turn to face him. There's an awkward tension in the air that I haven’t experienced with Harry before, maybe a little that first night when I walked in on him in his kitchen, but nothing like this since we’ve gotten closer.

“What happened?” He asks quietly, lifting his head with an uncertain look on his face.”You barely even looked at me.

“I..” I stumble over what to say, I’ve been thinking I could just explain what Eleanor had said and have it done with but now I know we’re not going to be able to just leave this. If somebody’s going to find out about our arrangement then something would have to change. “Ellie thinks there’s something going on with us and she kept staring all night. I just, I couldn’t give her anything to be suspicious about.”

“S’that what you mean about the jacket?” I nod, “What did she say?”

“Just that we seemed closer, talk more I guess.” I sigh, “She didn’t believe anything I said.”

“What did you say?” He presses. His tone is unclear, he seems less hurt now and more focussed on getting answers from me.

“I just, I told her nothing’s happened.” I mumble, “She asked about us leaving together and I told her it was just because we lived close and it’s easier than the tube.”

Harry bobs his head a little, taking in what I’ve just told him before laughing a little. He shakes his head and brings his palms up to his face, cursing under his breath. We stand in the quiet of my hallway before he speaks up again.

“Can we still do this?” That catches me off guard. Of course I knew we’d have to stop sometime when one of us started dating or a friend found out, I just hadn’t thought seriously about it happening anytime soon. “If she does find out, would that be the worst thing in the world?”

I shake my head, taking a step towards him to close the gap between us that’d been building my nerves throughout this whole exchange.

“I don’t wanna stop hanging out.” I confess. Harry quirks his lips up a little, obviously relieved as he pulls me to his chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his chin on my head as we breathe together for a moment. All the while we’ve been spending nights at his, there’s been no serious moments like this. We’ve opened up about vulnerable subjects and confessed more than we probably should have to each other, but never anything like this. There’d never been a time I thought I could lose him.

“What if something did happen.” He whispers into my hair.

“Like what?” I murmur, voice a little muffled by his jacket.

“Like..” He trails off a little and I’m pretty sure I hear him inhale a little and smell my hair. “Like what if I kissed you..or something.”

“Or something?” My chest tightens, stomach fluttering suddenly.

“Mmhhhmm,” He hums, “What would happen then?”

“Eleanor would have a field day.”

Harry laughs, shoulders shaking a little as he giggles above me. He loosens his grip on my and pushes away to create a little space to see me again.

“Oh yeah?” He teases.

“Uh huh,” I smile, “She’d never let us forget it if she knew she was right.”

“And what would she be right about?” Harry lifts his hand to cup my face, tilting it slightly to make sure I’m staring right up at him.

“..Something..happening.” I whisper, “Having feelings for eachother.”

Harry grins, cheeks a soft rosy between the outside cold and the new blush. He strokes the pad of his thumb against my cheek and beams down at me.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh…”

“Really..she’d be right about that?”

“I’m pretty sure-”

Before I can tease anymore, Harry’s leaning down to press his lips against mine. I inhale sharply, closing my eyes and looping my arms around the back of his neck to hold us in place. His hand still holds my face firmly, thumb fluttering over my cheek a couple times before he pulls away and we both breathe in deep.

“She’s definitely right.” He smiles, tone turning serious for a moment. “I really like you Olivia.”

Butterflies surge through my stomach for the millionth time since he walked through my door. Blushing and happy, I tighten my arms and push my face back into his shoulder.

“I like you too H….just a little bit.”

“We don’t have to tell anyone, just want this to be ours for a little while.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back down to whisper into my ear.

“I want this to be ours forever.” I hum, words quiet and part of me hoping he doesn't hear my honest confession.

A comforting quiet settles over us. I remember how tired I really am as I melt further into Harry’s body, breathing in the sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent. His breathing lulls me half to sleep as I let my eyes flutter shut and bury my head further into his neck. I feel him lifting me up as my body relaxes against his and I catch his last few words before I he’s shifting me into his arms and walking us up the stairs.

“I could hold you ‘n listen to your voice all night long, love.”

. . . . .

“Oh my god!” Julia yells out, unravelling a long shawl from pristine white tissue paper. “Okay whoever got me, thank you so much!”

She continues to squeal a little as he wraps it over her shoulders and presses the end to her nose, inhaling the lavender scent of her favourite designer brand.

I’d only spent one Christmas with the whole group before but it was clear secret Santa was a bit of a tradition. Between the six of us we all had other friends, family and mostly, relationships. Organising a secret santa within our group just relieved some of the stress of present buying - and it was fun.

We’re all sitting around Harry’s living room, it felt the homiest to us after all. The kiddy advent calendar I bought for him hung by the fireplace reading December 21st. We’ve all finished our egg nogs, meaning it was officially present time. Over the next few days we’ll all be driving up and down the country to visit family, meaning today’s the last day most of us will be seeing each other. Harry had whined about me leaving, begging me to stay another day with him or better yet - spend christmas with his family up north.

It was when I told him my own parents were spending the holidays visiting my sister and her kids in New York that his campaign started. We kissed almost three months ago now and have been on a slew of dates since. Between all the secret dinners out, brunches and farmers market trips, we haven’t found time for the talk. We had no official title. I’ve heard Harry refer to me as “m’girl” a couple times when I’ve wandered into the kitchen and overheard him on the phone to mitch, but nothing he’s told me himself. Despite this, he still insists I have to come and spend christmas with him and his close family. The idea of me hanging out with my young cousins and distant relatives apparently doesn’t satisfy him.

“Are you serious!” Eleanor gasps as she unwraps her own present. Everyone had picked the perfect gifts for each other this year. In a pure coincidence, I ended up with Harry’s name after Nick made me trade because he’d already bought Julia’s present for her. I’ve been nervous about it all evening, I was sure he’d like it, a little too sure. That was the problem. One night, wrapped up in Harry’s bed, he’d recalled his latest tragedy to me: He’d taken shroom with Mitch on his last trip to LA and subsequently decided to skinny dip in the sea, losing his favourite mustard cords in the process. The only times we’ve seen everyone else has been with the both of us present and , to my knowledge, he hasn’t mentioned this to anyone else. The brown paper package that sat on the coffee table could invite a few more questions that I was prepared to answer.

“Harry, you’re next!” Ellie grinned, hugging her present to her chest.

Thanks to our early secrecy, there’s been no opportunity to tell our friends we were dating. Eleanor hasn’t stopped her constant questioning but we’ve kept up a pretty good front of excuses. It was still freezing out so it made sense for us both to climb into his car together at the end of the night. Nobody had to know we would be going home to the same house where we’d climb into the same heavenly bed and scramble eggs together in the morning.

“I’m going, I’m going!” Harry laughs as Ellie tries to hurry him up, playing perfectly into her role as the youngest in our group.

He pulls the first fold of paper back with his ringed fingers and immediately looks up at me as the mustard fabric shines up at him. He grins wide, beaming back at me before pulling the rest of the paper back and laying the trousers out in front of him.

“No babe...where did you find them?” He’s running his fingers down the cord, in awe to have his favorite trousers back - or at least a copy.

I don’t miss how Eleanor and Nick’s heads turn to share a look of shock as the pet name tumbles out. Before I can put anything together, Harry’s standing and leaning over the coffee table. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug and whispering his thanks in my ear.

“Wait I dont - how did you know it was h-” Julia pipes up, before she can finish she’s cut off by the joint gasps of Nick and Ellie as Harry plants a wet kiss to my cheek - then my lips, and laughs at our friends reaction.

“I knew it!” Ellie yells, pointing frantically between the two of us, Harry now having stepped over the table and come to sit next to me, pulling me into his side.

“What was-” Julia stammers, “Since when!”

Harry’s eyes flutter down to my face. He giggles quietly when he catches on to my glare. This wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined the evening going.

“Have you just been lying to my face for the past three months?” Ellie asks, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting her lips.

“Five,” Harry mumbles, almost just as an inside joke for the both of us to enjoy. I slap my hand against his shoulder to shut him up but the damage is already done.

“Five months!” Even Theo’s joining in now. “How didn’t we know?”

“It didn’t start out like this honestly, we would’ve told you.” I try and explain, eager for this to quiet down so we could get to the roast dinner waiting for us in the oven.

“How did it start?” Nick pokes, drawing Julia and Ellie’s attention as the same puzzled expressions adorn their faces.

“Unimportant,” Harry brushes off, standing up to tower over us all and reaching a hand back for my own. “We better get dinner, we wouldn't want burnt potatoes.”

Harry pulls on my arm gently, leading me out the room before anyone can object.

In the kitchen, he picks up a tea towel and starts to check on the food, prodding at the parsnips. I roll my eyes as he ties his lavender apron around his waist and tentatively pulls the potato tray from the oven.

“Harry..” I sigh, trying not to laugh as he turn to face me, spatula in hand.

“Yes dear?”

“What was that?”

“Oh - You’ve gotta shimmy a little spatula under the potatoes or they’ll break apart-”

“No, obviously not that,” He makes it so hard so stay stern, a giggle leaks out as he lifts a hand to rest on his hip. “Why did you do that?”

“I want them to know.” drops his utensils, tone sincere as he takes another step towards me. “I want our friends to know how much I love you already, and you remember about my mustard cords so..it felt like the perfect time.”

“What?” I stutter, looking up at him from where he’s pulled me into his chest. His hands rest on my waist, rings a little hold against my exposed skin.

“You remembered the trousers I lost last month in LA -”

“You love me?”

His eyes go a little wide, a smile peaking through as the sides of his mouth quirk upwards. Realising what he just said, he lifts a hand from my waist to rest it against my face and lean down a little.

“Of course I love you.” He whispers, his voice a little croaky and I can see tiny droplets gathering in his eyes that make my heart flutter.

“Love you too..” I mumble. I wipe a thumb over his cheek before pulling him down into a kiss. I feel his smile against my own, and everything’s perfect for just a second.

“So you’ll come to Christmas with me?”

. . . . .

Hiii I hate the ending :)

Tysm for reading !! pls leave a like or reblog (it rlly helps <3) if you enjoyed it x

#Harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #stellarboystyles3years #“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”#dani's masterlist #dani's writing #fan fic #harry styles #nick grimshaw #reader #idk #what do u even put in tags #christmas vibes?#friends to lovers

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fizzingwizard · 4 years

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Episode 34 arrives and it’s a MUCH NEEDED breath of first air. I mean, this episode could have actually BEEN a 99 Adventure episode. I guess at least one person on the production team has actually seen the old show at least once!

In my opinion, it doesn’t quite equal the cuteness, silliness, and personality of similar 99 episodes, but it comes very close, and it’s certainly the best we’ve had in a long long while.

And it’s all because of these two.

More below!

The episode bizarrely begins with Tailmon barking to communicate with Komondomon. Which raises the question, if no one could talk with Komondomon before because he can only bark, how were they communicating? Did Lopmon just tell Komondomon everything he needed to know and tell the kids “just follow his lead” or something??

Also Tailmon’s opening line being her barking is pretty surreal. And yet, fitting for a cat Digimon who is a dog at Child level.

The kids are shown taking a break - the first sign that this episode is gonna be A Bit Different.

Taichi: Something feels weird. Why aren’t we fighting?

Sora: Taichi, don’t you think you should rest once in a while?

Taichi: I mean, I do, I just got the impression the rest of the world didn’t agree...

Sora: By the way, why do we like this world that constantly tries to kill us and never gives us any pleasant memories so much? Why don’t we just take our partners to the human world and leave this place to its fate?

Taichi: How else am I gonna get an outlet for my pent up aggression and adrenaline junkie issues?

Sora: That’s your backstory?

Taichi: I’m a complicated man.

Komondomon then randomly jumps... into the sea. “Oh no, they’ll drown!” No, they won’t, because Komondomon has the ability to build a dome over his back trapping oxygen inside. Submarimon I get, but Komondomon?

As they dive, Tailmon explains what we learned last week about Millenniumon trying to resurrect himself with a new body. Apparently a very large fragment of him is located undersea in a place called Farga (transliteration TBA). She thinks resentfully about how she was almost absorbed into Millenniumon’s most recent resurrection effort.

Hikari tackles her with a comforting hug, which Tailmon seems a bit discomfited by. But does not object.

Tailmon considers defeating Millenniumon for good to be her personal mission as a Holy Digimon. Patamon sees her determination and does his best to put on his game face too. It’s like being glared at by a sock puppet.

Tailmon: I can’t allow Hikari to be put in danger. It’s my job as the Holy Digimon -

Tailmon: - gosh darnit and she’s just so cute too!

They wind up getting hit by a rip current or something?? and thrown into another weird submarine sort of thing. They discourteously break a hole in it and wind up inside a self-sustaining underwater kingdom, apparently, which instantly goes on Red Alert as Manbomon come to attack them.

This is Daipenmon, or Big Penguin Monster. I love him. He is glorious. Gaze upon his expression of perpetually stoned haze.

Daipenmon: You try steering this thing every day in and out nonstop without turning to hard drugs.

She attac!

While fighting, some Mantaraymon break in through the hole they made and the Manbomon go to drive them off as apparently they are not welcome. Then MarineAngemon appears in all her creepy glory and they sort everything out.

MarineAngemon: Oh, Tailmon, I see you’re a Holy Digimon! I can tell by your Holy Ring. I have one too.

Takeru: Patamon, why don’t you have a Holy Ring?

Patamon: .... -.-’

Look! See! So cute! They are floating on bubbles! All the kids get their own and each has an individual design that shows their personality. Here Tailmon tries desperately to keep Hikari from falling off. I missed this kind of thing! Flashbacks to Monzaemon’s Toytown...

Turns out MarineAngemon is extremely small and the scene before was all “don’t pay attention to that man behind the curtain” type scare tactics. Not very effective since no matter how big MarineAngemon gets, she’s still extremely adorable. She invites them to stay the night. I really expected it to be a trap, but it wasn’t.

OH MY GOD IS THAT FOOD ARE THEY EATING ACTUAL FOOD OMG OMG

quick someone alert the producers! Someone’s having FUN with this show! I was starting to think that was illegal or something!

It’s not AS fun as when they went to Devimon’s illusory castle in 99 Adventure and stuffed their faces after starving and living on potentially poisonous eggs for a week... but I’ll take it.

Meanwhile an undersea band plays music and Taichi ACTS LIKE THE FIFTH GRADE CHILD THAT HE IS. For about 0.5 seconds but HEY he did something child-like! holy cheez wiz batman!

Hikari is mysteriously absent so Tailmon goes to find her. Turns out she’s asked MarineAngemon to heal Komondomon who is tired and wounded from their journey. Tailmon’s like, “Aw, what a nice person she is.” I’m all for exceptionally kind-hearted Hikari, but taking care of Komondomon should have been priority 1 for EVERYONE. At least Sora should have thought of it. I can see Taichi being too forward-focused, and Takeru a dumb eight year old, but Sora would definitely have thought about Komondomon.

Clearly the show wanted to establish how nice Hikari is, but I hate when shows inadvertently make all the other characters look like asses just to trump up the current star...

Taichi’s digivice glows and...

... MINI KOUSHIROU RETURNS!!! Hurray!

Um, what’s that Sora’s drinking? A mimosa? o.O

Well anyway, Koushirou just shows up to remind everyone of the situation with the satellites and that things are getting worse.

Taichi: Do you have any idea what we can do about it?

Koushirou: No, but I’ll keep you posted.

Taichi: Thanks for nothing braindead

Koushirou: That’s it! You’re not the man I knew in episode 3 anymore! I want a divorce!

Taichi: Fine with me it’s not like you’re ever home anyway!

Koushirou: Well at least I’m not cheating with YAMATO!

Taichi: I HAVE NEEDS!

*cough*

Uh, I know Taichi is shorter than Sora, but he looks... pretty tiny here... lol. Or maybe Sora’s just had a growth spurt again.

They spend the night sleeping in bubbles. Aw.

By the way, question: the kids seem able to walk and breath normally in MarineAngemon’s kingdom... but the fish-type Digimon can also swim around normally. And it seems the kids wouldn’t be able to survive in the ocean itself, but they and the fish can both survive here? And yet bubbles? What... what kind of scientific anomaly is this place??

So... MarineAngemon’s kingdom appears to be a Whamon’s corpse! X’D Wow that’s dark.

They are attacked by Anomalocarimon! For reasons. Actually, they did explain earlier that the ocean Digimon have been more aggressive lately and it seems to be the influence of Millenniumon’s stone in Farga or whatever.

Daipenmon: This sucks I don’t have health insurance

Tailmon frantically tries to fight off the intruders while also keeping Hikari out of danger. This entire episode is about Tailmon wanting to protect Hikari and keep her at arm’s length so she doesn’t end up in danger, while Hikari just keeps trying to stay close to Tailmon and support her.

Tailmon: I can’t take you with me, Hikari. It’s too dangerous.

Hikari: Fine. Big brother, will you bring me into the heat of the action with you?

Taichi: Sure thing.

Tailmon: ...

In his defense, Taichi does seem a bit freaked when Hikari TAKES A FLYING LEAP off MetalGreymon toward Tailmon.

(no I really love that Taichi immediately understands why Hikari wants to fight and takes her right to her partner without even a token “nuu but you’re still a baby.” I mean, if Yamato’s cool with Takeru being in danger all the time, Taichi shouldn’t be much worried about it...

Hikari has a flashback! Turns out she’s heard Tailmon calling for her since she as a little kid!

She caught one of Angewomon’s feathers back then too.

Hikari promises Tailmon that she’ll be by her side. Awww.

Hands again.

Crest of Light! I kind of expect that we’ll find out about the Crests and what they mean really fast at the end of the season... although I’m still kind of hoping Mimi is mining Crest crystals atm.

Hikari is able to magically produce a Digivice... I’d completely forgot she didn’t have one till now.

Here I expected Tailmon would evolve, but instead, the power of Light appears to give everyone a power boost like it’s done in the past. They all glow with their Crest colors, kids and partners alike (except for some reason Tailmon glows yellow???) and launch a joint attack on Anomalocarimon and defeat him. Yay.

Then they say goodbye to MarineAngemon and go on their way, I guess to Farga.

So... yeah! it was a nice episode. It had a theme. There was fighting, but it didn’t overwhelm everything else. There was character development. I really can’t complain about it. And it was SHOCKING that Taichi had so few lines (compared to what’s become the norm - a GOOD shock but still I was like “omg what’s going on!!”)

I am just confused because why is this sort of episode happening when we haven’t seen it in ages? What happened in that interim between when they all met up after the first team split up and just now that prevented the show writers from having fun with the show and just writing nonstop fighting all the time? I’m so confused. It makes no sense. Still suspecting that they couldn’t get anyone to come in and voice characters for long enough so they just focused on Sanpei Yuuko/Taichi, but without the others they couldn’t figure out how to push the show forward and make it fun too... Idk. It’s so weird. But oh well. We got a good episode, and maybe it’s a sign of changes to come. I hope so.

Next week...

We get attacked by a scary looking Digimon and Hikari... Idk, thinks she can block the attack somehow? haha. Aw but look how awesome she is protecting her brother and Greymon!

Hikari gets touched by the dark powers! Oh noes!

And more cuteness.

The episode title name-drops Angewomon, which surprises me because I figured they’d hold off on her and give Tailmon Nefertimon for an evolution first. But *shrug* whatever! Looking forward to it.

#digimon adventure reboot #digimon adventure:#digimon adventure 2020 #fizz watches digimon 2020 #digimon #digi spoilers

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11a-wolf · 3 years

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Literature Analysis

11A Wolf 🐺

Jeffery Deaver is the best-selling author of over forty novels, three collections of short stories, and a nonfiction jurisprudence book. His novels have been translated into 25 languages and sold in 150 countries. Jeffery Deaver is a mystery and crime writer from the United States. An introduction to his book afraid, Marissa was a model on the run who wanted to abandon her profession and pursue a career in fashion design. She eventually moved to Milan, where she met Antonio. Antonio was muscular and trim, with thick dark hair and a ready smile. He claimed to be in the computer field. Marissa felt comfortable and pleasant in Antonio's company. The sudden apparition of twin boys about the age of ten and an older woman named Olga. Olga inquired about Marissa's relationship with Lucia. Marissa, of course, declined, but she was intrigued by who Lucia was. During the interval, Antonio took Marissa to his so-called vacation home. They walked into a mill, where a child died from injuries sustained while playing soccer. Marissa was terrified at first, but Antonio consoled her. Marissa was astonished since the interior was very appealing. As time went by, Marissa grew suspicious. Still, she proceeded to kiss Antonio even though Antonio was hiding something and moderately psychotic. The thesis statement in the story is that the words "fear" and "afraid" are the key points and the theme of this story, and our main character, Marrisa, has a lot of fears that give the readers thrills. In my own observation, Marrisa has 5 fears and those fears will be explained in the following paragraphs.

The first fear out of the five is fear of the unknown which is the tendency to be afraid when a person has no information on any level about something you face, it includes anything or anyone that's unfamiliar or unknown. In the story, Marrisa does not have any information about where they are going. In the beginning , when they were in the car she asked Antonio where they are, since “she knew only the center of Florence” (p.136) and “was soon hopelessly lost” (p136) as she keep her eyes outside on the window car to “gave her a clue of the direction they were traveling” (p.137). Then as they stop and park, while Antonio was out to do an errand, she saw two twin boys unsmiling staring at her, which made her “shiver at unnerving sight”(p.139) she also met Olga that made her “gasped in shock”(p.139).

Those are in terms of something or anything, but in terms of anyone, Marrisa “had not known Antonio very long”(p.137) since “they met in Florence a month ago”(p.137).and on that day in their vacation, when he was driving, he made “Another series of sharp turns, Marrisa made an uneasy laugh at Antonio’s aggressive driving”(p.136), Marrisa also was ”troubled all the more troubled when he abruptly skidded to a stop at curb.” (p138) and after those other events Marissa finally asked, her voice was uneasy”(p.141) of where they were. Which shows that she was uneasy of Antonio’s “mystery and solemnity he’d been displaying”(p.141) because that is not “The old Antonio” (p.141). This shows that Antonio does not really act that way before and only just displaying this type of behavior when they went on their vacation.

These current events create uncertainty and uneasiness on Marrisa and the readers. With no information of the settings and the character, the thrill keeps on rising.

Second, fear of being vulnerable. Marrisa hated being vulnerable, even though she herself was vulnerable. Her father controlled her, forcing her to be a business woman, and make her work everyday. And at the end of the story, she was nearly naked, trapped inside a cell without a cellphone or weapon, at complete mercy of a mad man with a knife, making her vulnerable, thinking she is a fool. If we were in the shoes of Marrisa, would we feel fear and vulnerable?

Third, the fear of others' lack of self-control, which prevents people from fully accessing their inner selves and leads to psychosis. Psychopaths are feared because they have no self-control. Being pursued by psychopaths can turn into a phobia or trauma, which can be difficult to forget because memories can last a lifetime. And for another thought, who will not be afraid if someone close to us acts strange and suddenly threatens us? Which is why Marissa finds it difficult to convince Antonio that she is not Lucia.

The part when Marissa noticed the wine cellar door was open. She went down to the wine cellar and glanced until she saw the soccer ball where she remembered the boy and the robe that she was wearing was also worn by Lucia. She suddenly panicked and planned to escape until Antonio stood there with a sharp knife as he wanted to act psychotic to trigger Marissa's fear. While Marissa was still trembling in fear, she exclaimed, "I'm not Lucia!". At this point, her fear was truly grasped by her own body. The experience is genuinely terrifying where Marissa does not even hope to survive. This is an example of fear that Marissa experienced when Antonio is out of control.

Fourth, fear of lacking control of oneself. Before all the commotion took place, she looked down the bridge near the mill, watching the stream flow. As she observed as if when people are looking at the deck and experiencing it, and as she thinks if she is going to jump her heart was beating so fast after a moment he said that a boy died here before they owned the mill and it was like ball the rolled them into the water and sucked in the gate of water and wedged them upside down but they see a crosses and a flowers that appear from nowhere. She feels the urge to jump but was stopped by Antonio, telling her he knows she has the urge to jump down the stream. That's where she lacks control of herself. And when she finds out that her grappa wine was drugged, she snapped and panicked to escape but was stopped by Antonio, holding a carving knife. She was relieved when she saw the interior was comfy and cozy, peacefully toast their long weekend. While watching the mix and whisk and assemble. He set the food out and they ate with a leisurely dinner and after that they had difficulty finding a period accessory to restore the mill. As Marissa walks into her small intimate room and sits into her coach she hears a step that is going into her room she fills glasses with a liquor and she knows that Antonio does have a good taste when it comes to an expensive distillation.

Fifth, fear of suspicious things or surroundings.It happens when you have a gut feeling of someone hiding something suspicious or feeling uneasiness in your surroundings. And If someone you know acts suspicious or hides things, we would also feel curious and uncomfortable just like Marissa.Which is why Antonio keep making an excuse but Marissa did not believe him when she found out what he was hiding and saw the painting of Lucia downstairs.In the story, Marrisa always feels uncomfortable by everything around her, and those things are like thrill icons to us readers.In the gothic mill, there is nearby white cross memorial of a dead boy as she feels uncomfortable. There are a lot more suspicious events that happened, In the part of the story where an old lady with yellow eyes tells us that Marrisa looks like Lucia who can capture human souls and place them in her dolls.

The dark windowless cell with blood with a doll inside that makes Marissa claustrophobic makes us readers feel the thrill and scared for Marissa. Marissa panicked and thought that she was going to die, until she heard Antonio calm her down and said “It is alright Marissa. Do not worry. There is a light switch behind the loose on the left of the door. Turn it on. Read the note inside the hidden doll.”, which made Marissa confused and shocked by what he said. She wondered (what happened) and followed his order but us readers want to know what was written on that note. At that moment she did not see where Antonio was so she looked around but he was not there.She heard a sound of a car engine outside, she was curious about what it was so she looked at the window and suddenly realized that he disappeared into the parking lot driving away with his car.

Then she went outside to look at what was going on and found a suitcase and purse. She hesitated for a moment but started to read the note. In the note Antonio explained everything about what she wanted to know and why he acted so suspicious, because he wanted to help her overcome her fear.In the note, he said "You are given 3 choices to call. First is a car that will take you to the train station to go back, Second is local police distinct, Third is Antonio's number". After she read the note, now finally understands why Antonio did that to her . The fear that she experiences in the story is unbearable and terrifying; it makes us readers feel bad for her.

Fear is a primal, natural, and powerful human emotion. It involves both a universal physiological reaction and a strong individual emotional reaction. Fear warns us that there is a threat of harm, whether it is physical or psychological. Experiencing fear is nothing to be ashamed of, but we should know how to handle it professionally as this is our form of weakness. One day you have to overcome your fears in order to live life happily and peacefully. Don’t let fear hold your future accomplishments or victories. For us to overcome these fears, we have to determine or understand our fears. There are many types of fear. Here are some examples of fears, innate fears, identity fears, and lastly, love and connection fears.

Marissa is constantly terrified of doubting anything that occurs within her. She is terrified of practically everyone, but she is not selfish and possesses a delicate or soft heart, which is uncommon. Despite the fact that Marissa was forced to take over her family's business and needs to divorced from her husband, she continues to strive to hold on to the responsibilities that her family and husband lack. Although being terrified is unavoidable, nothing will happen if fear comes to our minds first rather than taking action to escape a tragedy.

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saiilorstars · 4 years

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Metamorphosis

Ch. 1: A New Beginning

Current Masterlist // Previous Story //

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 11th Doctor x Female OC

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel

[If you would like to be added to this specific OC’s taglist, let me know!]

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Author's Note: Hello! Welcome to my 3rd OC/Doctor pairing story. This is the second story of the 'Home Saga' involving my Time Lady OC Renata and the (now) 11th Doctor. I recommend that you go back to the first story "The Beginning of Everything" listed on my porfile for a better understanding of Renata's history and her story with the Doctor. Now this story will be a rewrite of Season 5 and some canon Doctor Who comic stories as well as my own original chapters. This story will also feature a canon Latinx Doctor Who comic companion, Gabby Gonzalez. She is NOT my creation.

Couple of fun things: Renata's and the Doctor's main theme song is "Home" by Gabrielle Aplin. Renata's personal theme song is Butterfly by Luna Mae. (There's a specific playlist for them on my profile)

Chapter summary: Renata and the newly regenerated Doctor have crash landed into a little girl’s backyard where they dive headfirst into another adventure.

Renata had never seen a more disastrous regeneration unfold. Of course only the Doctor could make that happen. She shouldn't even be surprised. It was only a matter of time until one of his regenerations caused the TARDIS to nearly explode. She furiously ran around the console, trying to calm the box without getting her hands burned in the process. Parts of the console room were still in flames and where was the culprit!?

"DOCTOR!" Renata's yell could almost go above the thuds and sparks from the lit console.

"Busy!" the newly regenerated Doctor called back only to have Renata snap.

"No you're not! You're…" she trailed off after poking her head around the console to see the Doctor pulling himself back inside the box.

"You left me dangling out there!" He exclaimed, flapping a hand at the open doors. The TARDIS had lurched to the side, throwing him out like a ragdoll.

Renata's dark eyes widened indignantly. She huffed and stepped away — or stumbled away because of the bouncy ride — from the console. "I did not! I'm trying to fix your mess! You can't even regenerate properly!"

Now it was the Doctor's turn to be offended. "What!? Excuse me for not dying the right way!"

Renata stalked over to him, intending on pulling him away from the doors that he irresponsibly left open as well. "The TARDIS needs to land so it can properly repair itself but I can't do that because—oh no!" She had gasped at something past him out the door. The Doctor whirled around to see them about to hit Big Ben. He used his sonic screwdriver to pull them to the side, a rather harsh turn that sent them both flying.

Only this time it sent the Doctor away from the doors and Renata out the doors.

"Renata!" the Doctor panicked. Oh, if he killed her, she would definitely kill him.

Like him, Renata had managed to hold onto the edge of the entrance. Now she dangled and was terrified for her lives. "GET ME UP! I HATE HEIGHTS!" she cried.

The Doctor scrambled to the doorway and looked down at her. He felt absolutely terrible because this wasn't the first time she was in this situation. She had her eyes screwed shut and her hands gripping the TARDIS as much as she could.

"You need to stop doing this to me!" she shouted when she felt his hands grab her arms. Last time she dangled from a terribly high height was on the first day she met Donna Noble in the Adipose building, and just like then she screamed for help now.

"Up you go!" the Doctor pulled her up and into the TARDIS. She was far too terrified and wrapped her arms around his neck as if he would stop her from falling again. Despite her clinging to him, the Doctor managed to shut the doors behind them.

The TARDIS continued to spin and lurch, throwing the two against the door. Renata's back hit the door with a thud and because she still held onto the Doctor, she brought him with her. Now she was locked between him and the door.

Despite their situation, the Doctor still found time to smile at her. "Hello," he greeted her for the first time since regenerating.

She was right, he hadn't regenerated properly. All the physical injuries he sustained in his previous incarnation carried over and it meant that the regeneration process had to work twice as hard to heal everything. The poor TARDIS never stood a chance and Renata had to work hard to keep them alive. There'd been no time to say hello and make sure she was alright. He would take these few seconds to do at least one of those two things.

Renata froze under that new gaze of his; she swallowed out of nervousness. Though he had a younger face, his emerald green eyes still held all the love and intensity he confessed before regenerating. It was still enough to calm her in the midst of a scary situation. But the TARDIS shook them again, reminding her pilots that she needed help or else they were all goners. The pair headed — a bit zig-zag from all the lurches — towards the console. They had to stop it before somebody got hurt. As it was, there was somebody below them who was asking for help from a higher power...the only higher power a seven year old could think of.

Little Amelia Pond didn't know what else to do with the ugly crack on her bedroom wall. It didn't look right and it didn't sound right either. Cracks shouldn't be making sounds. That's why she was scared of it. If it was a normal crack like her aunt Sharon told her it was, then she wouldn't hear noises from it.

Santa Claus had to help. She was just so sorry that she was waking him up during Easter. But just as she was once again asking for his help, she heard a crash in her backyard yard. Her ginger hair whipped to the side when she made the quick turn. She dashed to her window and looked below to see a dark blue box on the ground. She didn't understand power a lot, but she thought if Santa sent them then it must mean it was good enough to help her with the crack. Now she just had to be brave enough to go see it up close.

She grabbed her red jacket and the first shoes she saw - a pair of wellies - then ran out of her room. She ran as fast as she could down the stairs, thinking if she delayed then the box would disappear and she would be back to step one with the crack. She had just made it into the yard when the doors of the box flung open. The grappling hook that was thrown out and latched onto her lawn roller stopped her for a moment. What kind of box did that? Then she saw hands grabbing onto the edge of the box. A man's head popped out first, revealing incredibly wet hair.

"Can I have an apple?" he asked as soon as he met the girl's gaze. That was the first thing that his mind had thought of after such a ride. It was odd what regeneration did. "All I can think about - apples. I love apples. Maybe I'm having a craving. That's new - never had cravings before!"

Amelia swore she heard somebody screaming from inside the box. She was sure when the man flinched and looked below to respond to whatever had spoken inside the box.

"Sorry, love," he climbed out of the box then reached for something inside — somebody inside.

Amelia blinked when he pulled out a dark-haired woman from the box. Like him, she was soaking wet. "Are you okay?" the question blurted from Amelia's mouth.

"No! I am not!" Renata answered without even looking at the girl. She didn't even register that the Doctor hadn't been the one to ask the question. She wouldn't straddle the TARDIS like the Doctor was, she wanted to step on actual ground. She wanted to confirm that she was no longer dangling in the air.

"It is freezing out here! Where are we!?" Renata hugged herself wet body and began to look around. With such a landing, she didn't have the opportunity to see where the TARDIS had deposited them in. All she saw was water from the swimming pool.

They were in a garden, probably a backyard, that could honestly use some work. The grass was unkempt which meant somebody had neglected to give it a proper mowing. There were abandoned tools to one side — she winced when she realized that they had inadvertently smashed the shed — and then a park bench that could use some cleaning. Finally, she saw a swing set…

Oh. Renata glanced at the girl, eyes wide when she finally realized there was a child present. A child had asked her if she was alright and she'd been so rude. "So sorry," she quickly apologized. "Uh...bit off my rocker thanks to…" she threw a sharp look at the Doctor who couldn't seem bothered. His grin was a sign alright.

Amelia looked between them and wondered how Santa thought they were capable of helping her. Then again, if they were this strange then perhaps they were the right ones to handle a strange crack with noise. "Seriously, are you okay?"

"We just had a fall," the Doctor said, patting the TARDIS under him. "All the way down there, right to the library. Hell of a climb back up."

"Yes, my library is ruined now," Renata came back to the box and peered inside, though as soon as she did she pulled away. It was an outright mess in there. "And Gabriella's going to be furious that her art room is basically nonexistent."

The Doctor winced. Up until now, their companion Gabriella Gonzalez hadn't ever been properly angry with him, so he was really hoping that he could keep that streak when they went back to pick her up.

Amelia hadn't understood what they were saying, but she could still make sense of what she saw. "You're soaking wet."

"Yes, we are," Renata glared at the Doctor again. She hugged herself and cursed the dress she wore.

"Yeah, you are," the Doctor repeated but he wasn't so upset like she was. He was staring at her with a growing smirk.

Renata blinked when she finally caught on to the fact he was checking her out. Her pretty flower-patterned dress was hugging her body in just the right way. He was loving the fact he could see her curves, her new curves that she would otherwise probably never show.

Her face went mad red, probably almost the shade of Amelia's hair. She turned away in an attempt to focus on Amelia, but there was a tingling feeling running up her backside. You are not going to do that right here, she scolded herself. But she may have sneaked a glance at the Doctor. He was still staring at her appreciatively.

Renata bit her lower lip and forced herself to pay attention to Amelia for real this time. "I am so sorry for the mess we've made here. I, uh, can tell that you've worked hard to keep this...garden clean…"

Amelia smiled in amusement when Renata had to practically force herself to finish that sentence after checking out the garden again. "Nobody takes care of the garden. But how come you're wet?"

"We were, uh, in the swimming pool," Renata walked back to the TARDIS, discreetly pinching the Doctor's arm. When the man yelped she smiled sweetly at him. He needed a good snap back to reality.

"You said you were in the library," Amelia reminded after she herself thought over the last statements the pair had made.

"That's because my library is now ruined as well because the swimming pool is inside it," Renata folded her arms again.

"Are you police?"

That question was enough to reel the pair in. They stared at the little girl who shifted on her feet, anxiously waiting for their answer.

"Why? Did you call the police?" the Doctor asked her.

"Not exactly, but I did want help. Did you come about the crack in my wall?"

"A crack?" Renata repeated, giving the girl a strange look for her question when suddenly the Doctor yelped in pain, falling to the ground.

"Agh!" the Doctor pulled himself up but was only able to kneel in the meantime.

Renata was at his side in a second, trying to ease his lingering pain. "You haven't regenerated properly thanks to the little old flight we had."

"Are you all right, mister?" Amelia asked, staying right where she was. Usually adults didn't want kids around when one of them was sick. Plus, the dark haired woman seemed to be on it.

"No, I'm fine, it's OK. This is all perfectly norm…" the Doctor trailed off and had the urge to open his mouth. When he did, regeneration energy drifted out.

Renata sighed. "Yup, definitely wrong. You'll need to rest."

"Did you?" the Doctor asked. By his calculations, it'd been about two days since she regenerated and he didn't see her taking a rest. She rolled her eyes at his weak attempt to argue.

"Who are you?" Amelia couldn't help herself from asking. They were so strange, especially the man.

"By the time we finish explaining, you'd be an adult," Renata offered the girl a soft smile.

"And to be fair, I'm still cooking," the Doctor was proud to announce. That was the one good thing he could remember from each regeneration: the thought of who this incarnation would turn out to be. What would he like? What wouldn't he like? What would his personality be like?

"Are you afraid?" Renata asked the child.

"No, it just looks a bit weird…" Amelia's gaze lingered on the Doctor as if he would release more energy.

"Well, that's good to hear, but I was talking about the crack you mentioned."

The answer was evident before Amelia even answered. She looked over her shoulder up to her bedroom. "Yes."

The Doctor jumped from the ground, missing Renata worriedly trying to stop him from doing anything else. "Well, then, no time to lose. I'm the Doctor, this is Renata. Do everything we tell you, don't ask stupid questions and don't wander off."

"Doctor…" Renata tried stopping him again but she was too late. He'd walked straight into a tree. She gasped at the terrible smack she heard. That's the last thing he needed!

The Doctor had fallen to the ground on his back, a terrible headache soon to come. When he opened his eyes, he saw Renata already with him while Amelia stood behind his head. "Early days. Steering's a bit off," he excused himself but winced with Renata's scoff.

"Think it's more than just early days," she mumbled as she helped him stand up. Though before she completely let him go, she grabbed his head and pulled him closer to inspect any scratches or cuts on his face. She ignored - or rather did her best to ignore - the Doctor's following eyes on her.

"What's your verdict, my nurse?" he asked her quietly.

She blushed and let him go. "You're fine. But do me a favor and try not to crash into anything else. I will need you when I go back for Gabriella. Don't want to explain to her how you died once more by running into a door."

The Doctor grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

~0~

Amelia had brought the pair into her house, an action that Renata wasn't sure how to feel about. Did nobody teach this child never let strangers into her house? Amelia came into the kitchen with two towels for them to dry up. Renata gratefully took hers while the Doctor practically snatched his distractedly. He was busy studying the solitary kitchen.

"If you're a doctor, why does your box say "Police"?" Amelia asked him before glancing at Renata. "Are you a policewoman?"

"More like his caretaker," Renata dried her hair and flashed a smirk at the frowning Doctor.

"Lies," he promptly said. "Where's my apple?"

Amelia went off to the fridge and hid her smile when Renata scolded him for not saying 'please'. She came back with an apple in hand but once the Doctor took only one bite, he spit out in disgust.

"That's disgusting. What is that?" he wiped the lingering remains off apple from his lips.

Renata was frowning at him for that bit. "You've been asking nonstop for an apple - what do you think she gave you?"

The Doctor heard her, he did, but he also heard his taste buds and they did not approve. "Apples are rubbish. I hate apples."

Amelia could not understand how easily he could change his mind. "You said you loved them."

"No, no, I love yogurt! Yogurt's my favorite. Give me yogurt!" the Doctor rubbed his hands together at the thought of creamy yogurt.

Beside him, Renata watched Amelia run back to the fridge to get the yogurt. Just like before, Amelia returned with what the Doctor asked.

"Thank you," Renata was about to take the container so Amelia could get a cup but neither ever got the chance. The Doctor snatched the container from Amelia's hand and ripped the container off to pour a massive amount into his mouth.

Renata gaped that it almost looked like her mouth would hit the floor. "Doctor!"

The Doctor spit the yogurt out as well. "Ugh! I hate yogurt, it's just stuff with bits in!"

"You said it was your favorite!" Amelia frowned. Some of the yogurt was on her wellies!

"Doctor, you are being very rude right now!" Renata was so close to smacking him. This was too much, even for him!

"What? New mouth, new rules!" He sloppily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Renata shuddered.

Amelia chuckled. Renata looked incredibly funny right now.

"It's like eating after cleaning your teeth, everything tastes wro—agh!" the Doctor insisted but Renata grabbed him by the tie of his shirt and pulled him up to her.

"Stop making up stupid excuses and—" But the Doctor had another fit, ending whatever threat she'd been about to make. Renata let him go with a gasp. "Are you okay!?"

"What's wrong with him?" Amelia watched Renata lean the Doctor against the cabinets behind them. One moment he was arguing and the next he was sick? That didn't make sense.

"Oh, he, uh, just has—" Renata meant to construct a good reason that wouldn't scare Amelia off, but the Doctor had a very different idea in mind.

"Wrong with me? It's not my fault!" the Doctor exclaimed as he got off the wall. "Why can't you give me decent food? You're Scottish - fry something!"

"Doctor!" Renata scolded him while Amelia once again went to the fridge. "You don't have to, sweetheart!" she quickly told the girl but she was already pulling out a pan.

Amelia was a quick cook and in five minutes she presented the Doctor with two strips of bacon.

"Ah! Bacon!" the Doctor, to his credit, did look excited about this one.

However Renata wasn't very fond of the scent she got from it. I guess this incarnation won't like bacon, she concluded.

The Doctor agreed. He took one bite from a strip and spit it right out. "That's bacon. Are you trying to poison me?" he shot an accusing look at Amelia.

This time the girl took it a challenge. There had to be something this man would like and she would find out.

Meanwhile, Renata was close to steaming. "You are being incredibly rude!" she hissed at the Doctor as Amelia brought baked beans to them. "She's a child making food for you!"

"Well let's see if this is it!" the Doctor said. "Plus, you need to eat as well. When's the last time you ate since you regenerated?"

Renata rolled her eyes. Truth be told she didn't remember when she last ate. Things had escalated pretty fast after returning to Earth and finding the Master.

"Ah, you see, beans!" the Doctor happily exclaimed when Amelia came around with a plate. He took a spoonful of it and immediately decided she'd gotten it wrong again. He spit it back out on the plate and marched to the sink to throw it all away. "Beans are evil. Bad, bad beans!"

Amelia made a face and glanced at Renata. "What does he like?"

"At this point...not living!" Because with the glare she had on the Doctor, he might have just met his end.

Amelia sucked in a sharp breath and marched towards the cabinet. Her next attempt was simple. Maybe he was a simple man who liked simple food.

"Bread and butter. Now you're talking!" the Doctor rubbed his hands together as he prepared to eat.

This time, he thought it was so bad that the contents shouldn't even stay inside the house. He stormed towards the backdoor and threw the plate out. "And stay out!" he yelled as if it would really come back.

Amelia was frowning by this point.

"You are about to die again," Renata warned him when he returned. "She's done making food for you!"

"I just need something!" the Doctor argued as he went for the fridge.

Amelia followed him, offering other things she had in the fridge. "We've got some carrots?"

The Doctor scoffed. "Carrots? Are you insane? No, wait, hang on!" He flung open the freezer and searched through the contents. "I know what I need. I need... I need... I need…" He concluded that he needed two items that, if it wasn't for him, would never see each other. "Fish fingers and custard."

Both Renata and Amelia crinkled their noses with disgust. The Doctor happily went ahead with his odd creation.

"This time I get to make dinner for you," he proudly said to Renata when they sat down.

Renata tried her best not to look so disgusted at the bright yellow liquid inside the bowl. "Um...thanks?" Part of her laughed because he was actually trying to make dinner for her, but he'd chosen such a wrong combination. "You're so proud, aren't you?"

The Doctor dipped his fish finger into the bowl, eyes practically dazzling as he saw the gooey custard spill back into the bowl. He took a big bite and hummed with approval. "Good!"

Amelia chuckled from her spot. She'd chosen ice cream as her midnight meal.

"Oh, you are leaving quite an impression," Renata propped an elbow on the table to rest her cheek against her hand. The Doctor smiled proudly. He thought he was making a good one.

"Have some," he picked up a fish finger for her.

"Look Doctor, I appreciate your intention but...that does not look appetizing," Renata chuckled at it.

"But it's good!"

"Fish fingers and custard? I don't think so," Renata playfully rolled her eyes. The Doctor dipped the fish finger into the custard bowl as she went on. "I think I'll just grab an apple or something but you will not have me trying—" the Doctor had popped a fish finger into her mouth. Her eyes widened in alarm, quickly flashing anger at him. "Doc…"

"Ah! Chew!" the Doctor pointed at her with a wagging finger. "You always say you chew your food and swallow before talking at the table."

"That's what aunt Sharon says," Amelia said.

"See, Renata is very fond of routines and rules so I hope she wouldn't break them because it's her," the Doctor set a very smug smile on the Time Lady.

She returned the gesture with a sarcastic smile, but she started to chew to get rid of the foul combination. And then suddenly...she cocked her head and began chewing slower. When it came time to swallow, it wasn't forced at all.

"Well?" the Doctor asked, even though he had already assumed her opinion changed on the meal.

"Uuh...that was...that was actually kind of good," Renata said slowly as she was still trying to wrap her head around the fact. "That can't be right. It shouldn't work!"

"The oddest things sometimes work," the Doctor reached over with a thumb to clear off a lingering spot of custard on her lips. "Sound familiar?"

Renata blushed. "You think you're so smart, don't you?"

"I like to think I'm a genius," the Doctor said as he returned to his bowl.

"You are so modest," Renata sighed and reached for another fish finger, completely ignoring the Doctor's smug smile widening. She wouldn't hear the end of this one, she knew! She checked on the little girl who, up until now, hadn't shown any trauma from everything they'd put her through. "What's your name, sweetheart?" she asked when she realized they hadn't even asked her yet. They were there, sitting at her table, eating her food, and they didn't even bother asking her what her name was!

"Amelia Pond," the girl said.

"Ah, that's a brilliant name. Amelia Pond, like a name in a fairy tale," the Doctor said, making the girl smile a bit wider. Everyone always seemed to pick on her for her odd name, but what could she do about it?

"Are we in Scotland, Amelia?" Renata asked. She didn't even know where they were because of the TARDIS' crashing.

"No. We had to move to England. It's rubbish," Amelia crinkled her nose as if she'd only just moved in yesterday.

"So what about your mum and dad, then? Are they upstairs?" the Doctor leaned a bit in his chair to catch sight of the stairs. Up until now, no one had come down to check on them. "Thought we'd have woken them by now."

"Oh, what would make you think that?" Renata sarcastically asked him. "You screaming at a plate of beans? Or how about the big old box crashing in the garden?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes at her. "Oh, we'll fix that for them."

"The least we could do," Renata mumbled.

"I don't actually have a mum and dad. Just an aunt," Amelia answered when she thought they were done bickering again.

"We don't even have an aunt," the Doctor said, giving her a wink.

"You're lucky!"

Renata gave an odd look at the girl. "Why would you say something like that? Is your aunt not nice?"

Amelia didn't answer right away, but Renata could tell the girl was upset by something. "She's nice, but...she's not here, is she?"

Renata hummed as she looked around. "Right. Of course she wouldn't be here. She really leaves you alone?"

"I'm not scared," Amelia raised her head up high, making the pair of Time Lords smile.

"Ooh, we know," the Doctor said. "You're not scared of anything! Box falls out of the sky, man and woman fall out of box, man and woman eat fish custard, and look at you, just sitting there. So you know what I think?"

"What?"

"Must be a hell of a scary crack in your wall."

Renata agreed with a silent nod. And if she was guessing, Amelia must have told her aunt about this crack but the aunt hadn't listened. Amelia must be terrified and yet the aunt still left her alone!?

~ 0 ~

Amelia brought the Doctor up to her bedroom when they were done with dinner. Renata had insisted on washing everything before she could join them. How could they have dinner in someone else's home and not clean up after themselves? So, the Doctor began examining the crack on the wall by himself. At first glance, it did look like any ordinary crack. He might have even turned away if he'd only looked at it for a few seconds.

"You've had some cowboys in here. Not actual cowboys, though that can happen," he murmured as he worked along the crack.

"How are we doing?" Renata walked in a few minutes later and dropped an apple into Amelia's hand. "No seven year old should have ice cream at midnight. Have one."

Amelia scrunched her face at the apple she now held, though she did smile when she saw a carving of a butterfly on it. "How'd you do that?"

Renata smiled secretively as she bent down in front of the girl. "You want to know a secret? I'm like the Mother of butterflies." She turned her palm around and let golden energy rise from her skin, gently swirling until they formed miniature butterflies."

Amelia's green eyes expanded to the point of bulging from her head. She was enchanted with the butterflies flying around her. "That's so cool!"

Renata chuckled. "You think so? You want to know another secret?" Amelia nodded excitedly. Renata leaned a little closer and whispered, "I just learned how to do that downstairs."

The Doctor looked from the crack to see the sight. He smiled softly at the two. Renata was just so good with children, with people in general, that it seemed like no matter what incarnation she was in, this was a part of her core personality.

Renata straightened up on her feet and turned to the Doctor, catching him in his act of staring. She raised an eyebrow at him, questioning why he was wasting time, but he just continued to smile at her. Before she could blush again - she was beginning to think that this body would be doing that a lot easier now - Renata cleared her throat and walked up to the wall. "So, have we got anything on this menacing crack?"

"Uh, sort of…" the Doctor gave the crack all of his attention now. "This wall is solid and the crack doesn't go all the way through it. So here's a thing - where's the drought coming from?"

"Let's find out," Renata reached for her sonic screwdriver in her dress' pocket and aimed it at the wall. The Doctor took the chance to scoot closer to her, letting his chin rest on her shoulder while she took in the readings. Renata concentrated really hard on the sonic and not the sensation she was feeling from his closeness. "Interesting…"

"What?" Amelia wanted to get closer but she still was kind of afraid of the crack.

"Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey!" the Doctor thought that was the perfect explanation. He moved away from Renata and stopped at the start of the crack. "You know what the crack is? It's a crack, clearly." He began to run his fingers along the crack, bringing him back to where Renata stood. "I'll tell you something funny. If you knocked this wall down, the crack would stay put, 'cos the crack isn't in the wall."

"Where is it, then?" Amelia made a face. Half of his words weren't making sense, but she was pretty sure that the thing on her wall looked like a crack.

"It's everywhere," Renata said quietly, her face growing more grim by the second. "In everything. It's a split in the skin of the world. And that is not right. Two parts of space and time that should never have touched, pressed together...right here in the wall of your bedroom. How could that happen?" she glanced at the Doctor for some ideas, not that she didn't have her own.

Her first assumption was that this was a direct consequence of the Master and the Time Lords breaking out of the Time Lock. There was too much tampering with that time period, from both sides, that perhaps Time itself finally had enough.

"Sometimes, can you hear…" the Doctor actually meant to think this but since he said out loud, Amelia quickly jumped in with the answer.

"A voice!? Yes!"

Both aliens paused to look back at the anxious girl. It was clear that she'd been waiting for somebody to believe her.

The Doctor reached for a glass of water on the nightstand. He chucked the water to the side and pressed its rim against the wall. Soon as he put his ear against the end of the glass, he heard an echoing voice on the other side.

'Prisoner Zero has escaped'

The Doctor stepped away, nose crinkling as he repeated what he heard. "Prisoner Zero?"

Amelia once again jumped in. "Prisoner Zero has escaped. That's what I heard!" She wasn't the only one hearing the voices now! If they believed it then it meant things would finally get fixed. "What does it mean?"

"Be subtle," Renata whispered to the Doctor. This was still a child they were dealing with and they shouldn't terrify her.

Of course that's what Renata thought, because despite her warning the Doctor still went ahead and answered with the blunt truth. "It means that, on the other side of this wall, there's a prison and they've lost a prisoner." Renata rubbed her forehead wearily. So that incarnation also had a loud mouth. Great. "You might need a better wall," the Doctor concluded as he went for the desk nearby. He pulled it away so that the wall was free of any furniture. "The only way to close the breach is to open it all the way. The forces will invert and it'll snap itself shut. Or…" Renata once again made an attempt to remind him Amelia was still a child. This time it seemed like he got it. "You know when grown-ups tell you everything's going to be fine and you think they're probably lying to make you feel better?"

"Yes," Amelia nodded with a roll of her eyes. That was so annoying.

"Everything's going to be fine."

Amelia's face fell flat.

Renata shut her eyes for a moment, wondering which one of his lines was worse.

"Renée?" the Doctor called to her, in the process letting it be known that he would still be using that nickname for her as well. He was holding his hand out for her.

"Yeah, alright," the Time Lady moved up beside him and took his hand. Funny, it seemed to slip in so easily with his. Renata then glanced back to where Amelia stood and did the same like the Doctor. "Amelia?"

The girl grinned when Renata offered her other hand to her. She moved around the bed and took Renata's hand.

"Alright then, let's get this big, bad wall shut!" the Doctor held his sonic to the crack.

Amelia turned her head at the sonic when it started making that whirring noise. Renata's sonic hadn't made that noise, she wondered why the Doctor's did. Amelia soon forgot about that detail when a bright light started shining through the crack. It was opening! While Amelia shielded her eyes, Renata squinted hers to see prison cells on the other side. Her hand squeezed Amelia's when she realized that the child had been sleeping next to a prison, an alien prison.

'Prisoner Zero has escaped,' a voice announced on a loop. 'Prisoner Zero has escaped.'

The Doctor took a step towards the crack, hoping to end things without much trouble. "Hello?" At the second call, a giant blue eye surprised him and the others.

"What's that?" Amelia frowned at the creature. It kept swiveling its eyeball at them.

Before either Time Lord answered, a ball of light shot out from the crack and struck the Doctor. He landed against the bed just as the crack sealed up.

"Doctor, are you alright!?" Renata let go of Amelia's hand - though she ushered the girl away from the crack - and rushed to the Doctor.

He was getting back on his feet with a bit of struggle. The regeneration was still going. "There. You see, told you it would close. Good as new."

Amelia wasn't sure if she was supposed to be relieved or scared. But at least the crack was gone. "What was that thing? Was that Prisoner Zero?"

"No. I think that was Prisoner Zero's guard. Whatever it was, it sent me a message." The Doctor pulled out his psychic paper from his pant's pocket. "Psychic paper, takes a lovely little message. 'Prisoner Zero has escaped.' But why tell us?"

Renata dreaded the answer as she glanced back at the wall. "Because maybe this is where he escaped through…" If the crack truly was what they thought it was, then this was a weak point in Time. Anything could get through if it tried.

"But he couldn't have. We'd know!" the Doctor argued initially. They would have noticed something like that.

"No, we wouldn't," Renata said calmly to him. "It's like you said. I just regenerated 2 days ago and I haven't slept or ate since before and you just regenerated an hour ago. We're not functioning the right way."

The Doctor would concede with that point, several points. "Brand-new me, nothing works yet," he mumbled with annoyance as he headed out of the room. "Still, I feel like there's something I'm missing…" he stopped by the staircase banister and thought, "...in the corner...of my eye." He and Renata jumped at the sound of the cloister bell ringing.

"Oh, great," Renata sighed while the Doctor broke into a race for the TARDIS. She and Amelia hurried after him into the backyard.

"We've got to get back in there!" The Doctor exclaimed as he came up to the TARDIS. "The engines are phasing, it's going to burn!"

Amelia couldn't quite see that happening since it was just a box. "But... it's just a box! How can a box have engines?"

The Doctor struggled to free the grappling hook while Renata hurried to gather the rope around them. "That's because it's not a box. It's a time machine, sweetheart," Renata explained as she returned to the Doctor's side with the role in her arms.

Amelia blinked at her then checked the box again. "What, a real one? You've got a real time machine?"

"It's his, not mine," Renata gave a nod at the Doctor. "Mine wouldn't have landed like this."

"Oh!" the Doctor stopped working altogether to frown at Renata. "It's not like I planned this! I didn't see you doing a better job!"

"What!?" Renata dropped the rope with an indignant cry. "Your spasm of regeneration didn't exactly give me the time! Honestly, I have never seen a messier regeneration!"

Amelia's head once again turned from Renata to the Doctor as each of them took their turn responding to the other's comment. She smiled, though, when Renata sprouted golden butterfly wings. It definitely halted the argument.

"So...that's a thing now?" the Doctor was just as surprised as Amelia. He eyed the admittedly beautiful golden butterfly wings that were made out of pure Vortex and Osiran power. To Amelia, it looked more like fairy dust (Renata just needed to be blonde to be like Tinkerbell!). Bright, golden sparkle dust!

Renata was mortified to see them back. She looked over her shoulder with a loud groan. "Go away!" She shouted at them as if they actually had ears.

The Doctor chuckled at her. "C'mon my beautiful butterfly," he tugged her towards him by the hand. "We really have to get the TARDIS stabilized. I think a 5 minute hop into the future should do it."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Renata forgot about the silky argument and gathered up the rope she let fall.

Amelia watched the two work together like they hadn't been arguing a minute ago. It was rather funny. They were funny. Nothing around her was ever funny. She always spent most of her time alone. Who could she be funny with? Definitely not aunt Sharon. "Can I come?" she asked the two after they'd looped the rope through the door handle.

"Not safe in here, not yet," the Doctor told her, making her hopeful smile falter.

Renata walked over to the girl with a soft smile. "Listen, it'll just be 5 minutes and then we'll be back, right Doctor?"

"Absolutely!" he gave a thumbs up in the air.

"People always say that," Amelia frowned.

The Doctor walked over as well and looked her in the eyes. "Am I people? Do I even look like people? Trust me, I'm the Doctor. And, if you want extra assurance, that's why I have Renata."

Amelia's hope returned. "Really?"

"Have you ever seen a star in outer space?" Renata asked her and couldn't help chuckle at Amelia's widened eyes. She really did have big eyes. "Start picking a constellation. We'll work out permission with your aunt after." She had quite a few words to exchange with that Aunt of hers who just left her on her own.

The Doctor led Renata back to the TARDIS. They climbed over the edge again and, with one last look at Amelia, they jumped inside.

"Geronimo!" Amelia heard the Doctor's scream before the TARDIS doors closed. A few seconds later, the box disappeared into thin air.

Amelia continued to grin and hope for their return as she ran back home to collect her things. She had no idea what she would need to see a star in outer space but she would be very prepared!

~0~

The TARDIS returned to the same spot as before, but its inhabitants wouldn't notice straightaway something truly important. Renata came out of the TARDIS first - shoved out by the Doctor - coughing from the smoke billowing out of the box.

"We've got to let her repair!" Renata said in the midst of her coughing. The Doctor could only nod for a moment as he got over his coughing. "It's day time…" Renata realized as she looked up at the clear, blue sky. "Oh my God...it's day time! We told her 5 minutes — Amelia!" She raced into the house with the Doctor right behind her.

They hollered for Amelia to get out of the house. For this one moment, Renata would forget her rules about breaking in for the sake of Amelia's well being. They went directly to the one door they couldn't catch before but this time the sonic wasn't working.

"Is she at school!?" Renata tried to guess with the most logical idea. If it were that then at least she would be safe.

The Doctor struggled with the door but stopped when he heard a loud smack behind. He spun around and barely got a second to see Renata on the floor before he too was whacked across the head.

The next time they came to, the pair found themselves handcuffed to a radiator. A female police officer in a short skirt stood off to the side, speaking into her radio.

"White male and female, mid-20s, breaking and entering. Send me some back-up, I've got them restrained." The woman shot the pair a glare. "Oi, you! Sit still."

"Cricket bat. I'm getting cricket bat!" the Doctor felt the throb where the bat had hit him, but he was more angry at the fact Renata had also gotten the hit.

"Call me crazy but I think…" Renata paused to scrunch her face at the lingering pain she felt on the back of her head, "I think that was some uncalled police brutality." She tried moving her hand and found she was handcuffed to the same handcuff the Doctor was. "Oh, really?"

The Doctor nodded over at the policewoman. "I don't carry handcuffs, love!"

"You were breaking and entering," the policewoman said in a manner that would leave clear she used the appropriate amount of force against them.

Renata gasped with offence. "I have never broken into a place! Usually he—" she pointed at the Doctor with her free hand, "—is the one that drags me into it! My record with the authorities is clean!"

The Doctor stared at her with a flat expression. "Thanks, dear. Really appreciate your defense right now." His voice suddenly turned into a shout that startled the police woman but not Renata. "I literally died 2 hours ago and some woman just hit me with a cricket bat! You're not even going to mention that fact!?"

"What do you want me to do about it!? Kiss it and make it better!?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to snap when he suddenly tilted his head with consideration of the proposal. "Actually yes, that would make it so much better." Renata rolled her eyes but she turned her head away to hide her smile.

The police woman banged a hand against the staircase banister to get their attention back. "Do you want to shut up now? I've got back-up on the way! You both broke in!"

"But what are you doing here? Where's Amelia?" the Doctor asked, or rather demanded. He doubted this was the aunt Sharon that Amelia mentioned.

The police woman tilted her head at them. "Amelia Pond?"

"Adorable little Scottish girl," Renata said. "Where is she? We promised her five minutes but the engines were phasing." She craned her head up at the window where the sun was shining was through. "I suppose we must have gone a bit far. Perhaps a day? Has something happened to her?"

The officer folded her arms, seeming like she was enjoying their momentary panic. "Amelia Pond hasn't lived here in a long time."

"How long?" the Doctor dared to ask. Renata had assumed they'd been late by a day but if turned out to be more, he wasn't sure Renata could take it.

"Six months."

Renata gasped. "No, no, no! We can't be six months late! We said five minutes. We promised!"

The police woman turned away with zero interest in their guilt.

"What happened to her? What happened to Amelia Pond?" the Doctor now demanded from her.

"Sarge, it's me again," the police woman spoke in a hurried, hushed tone into her radio "Hurry it up, this guy knows something about Amelia Pond."

"What!?" Renata fully panicked now. Why would the police woman say something like that? Had something happened to Amelia!? What if she got hurt while waiting for them to come back!? Had she wandered off into the streets on her own to search for them!?

"Renée? Calm down," the Doctor struggled to move his cuffed hand closer to hers. He could see her beginning to panic and he wanted nothing more than to ease her. His free hand was the one to finally touch her face. "This face will be easier to read." He noted her widened eyes and the way her light skin paled up a bit.

"We told her 5 minutes and now something might have happened to her," Renata whispered. She directed her eyes to the police woman. "Please, you have to tell us what happened to Amelia? Is she missing?"

The police woman seemed to shift under those soft eyes of Renata. The Time Lady was so concerned, her voice cracking as if tears would roll down her face anytime soon. "Well…"

"Look, we need to speak to whoever lives in this house now," the Doctor cut in sharply. "And I'd like some information on Amelia Pond as well."

"I live here," the police woman snapped.

"But you're the police!"

"Yes, and this is where I live. You got a problem with that?!"

"I've got a problem with the fact you're keeping your mouth shut about Amelia!" snapped Renata. "So here's a little something for you, dear, how many rooms you got in this house?"

The police woman rolled her eyes. They were just trying to have her, weren't they?

"How many rooms?" Renata repeated the question, her tone growing harder by the second. "On this floor. How many rooms on this floor? Can you count them for us?"

"Why?"

"Because it will change your life," the Doctor left it at that. She didn't know what was living next door to her and once she realized it, she'd be in for the shock of her lives.

The woman decided to humor them. So she turned around and started counting the doors. "Five. One, two, three, four, five."

"Wrong," snapped Renata, making the police woman flinch. She sounded like a teacher.

"Six," the Doctor said, softer than Renata but it wasn't like he didn't understand her current feelings.

"Six?" the woman shook her head. "What do you take me-"

"Just look!" Renata insisted.

"Look where?"

"Exactly where you don't want to look," the Doctor told her, nodding at something behind her. "Where you never want to look, the corner of your eye. Look behind you."

The police woman sighed and turned where he was pointing to. She was about to chalk them off as crazy when she finally realized they were right. There was a door right there. "That's...that is not possible. How's that possible?"

"There's a perception filter round the door," the Doctor began to explain. "Sensed it the last time I was here. Should've seen it."

"But that's a whole room. That's a whole room I've never even noticed."

"That's because the filter stops you," Renata told her. "Something came a while ago to hide. It's still hiding. You need to uncuff us now!" She yanked on the handcuffs, hissing each time the metal dug into her skin.

"I don't have the key. I lost it." Because she was walking towards the door, she missed Renata's and the Doctor's dumbfounded faces.

"How can you have lost it?!" Renata shouted in outrage. She yanked on the handcuffs again, ignoring the Doctor's cry for her to stop doing that.

"Hey you! Stay away from that door!" the Doctor shouted at the police woman who was just going straight for it. "Do not touch that door! Listen to me! Do not open that-" the woman turned the knob and effectively opened the door. "Why does no one ever listen to me? Do I just have a face that nobody listens to?" He met Renata's gaze and saw her teasing smile. "Again?" he asked, disheartened over the problem repeating itself in a brand new incarnation.

Renata laughed. "I think that's just part of your personality, my dear."

The Doctor would've smiled more if he hadn't remembered the police woman wandering into the forbidden room at the end of the hallway. "Hey!"

"Sonic!" Renata exclaimed. "Mine must have dropped with that tumultuous TARDIS trip!"

The Doctor came up short with his own sonic. "My screwdriver, where is it?"

"Oh, great!" Renata rolled her eyes. Maybe her luck was beginning to change into something similar as his. That wasn't good at all!

"Silver thing, blue at the end. Where did it go?" the Doctor continued searching his pockets to no avail.

"There's nothing here!" the police woman called from inside the room.

"And who told you that it would let you see it!?" Renata snapped. She tried turning her body to where she would be able to see a bit into the room, but the only thing she did was lean on the Doctor too close.

"Seriously, you could keep doing that," he wasn't at all shy to say.

Renata paused to give him a sharp look. "Well, this new you certainly has no problem flirting."

"I said I learned my lesson last time," he said, referring to his last words before regenerating. He was done wasting time with Renata and because he knew how shy she was, he would be the bold one (not that he ever had a problem with that). He would be the one to flirt with her, do the touching until she learned how to come out of her shell - or cocoon, given her butterfly abilities - and do the same. Renata was too used to hiding herself, hiding her feelings and not expressing how she felt at moments. It was the way she was raised on Gallifrey and after 11 regenerations, it would be a hard habit to break, but not impossible.

"You said silver, blue at the end?" the police woman's call cut into the pair's moment. They looked at the open doorway and saw she was way too inside.

"My screwdriver, yeah…" the Doctor said slowly.

"It's here!"

"Must have rolled under the door," Renata reasoned but the police woman said a very interesting response.

"Yeah. Must have," the policewoman said. "And then it must have jumped up on the table…"

"Get out of there!" the Doctor yelled frantically.

Renata started yanking on the cuffs again. That policewoman really was naive to think she was safe and sound in that room. She frantically pulled and pulled, feeling desperate as the Doctor vainlessly called to the woman to get out. Suddenly, her golden energy tangled around the cuffs, snapping them in two. "Ha!" Renata laughed, totally surprised but loving the fact she could do that. The Doctor was stunned but he would take whatever worked right now. Without thinking, she grabbed the cuff still around the Doctor's wrist and watched as once more the energy wrapped around it to break it.

"Loving it!" the Doctor exclaimed and scrambled up to his feet. Just as he helped Renata up, they heard the police woman scream from the room.

The police woman ran out of the room, terrified by whatever she saw in there. The Doctor marched over the rest of the space between them and snatched his sonic from her. "Give me that!" He used it to lock the bedroom door.

"Will that door hold it?" the police woman asked them, still slightly out of breath from bolting. The creature had stared her in the face!

"Oh, yeah, yeah, course! It's an inter-dimensional multi-form from outer-space - they're all terrified of wood!" the Doctor sarcastically snapped.

A bright light flashed around the edges of the door.

"What's that? What's it doing?"

"It doesn't matter, just go!" Renata ushered the woman towards the staircase. "Your back-up's coming, we'll be fine."

The woman spun around, forcing Renata back. "There is no back-up!"

"What? But we heard you on the radio, you called for back-up!"

"I was pretending. It's a pretend radio!"

"What!? Impersonating a police woman is a crime!"

The woman rolled her eyes. "I'm a kissogram!" she pulled her hat off and revealed her bright ginger hair that fell over one shoulder.

Renata was stunned but then a new thought popped in. "What's a kissogram?"

At that moment, the door of the room fell down to reveal a man in blue overalls holding a leash to a very large Rottweiler.

The ginger woman blinked at them. She had no idea how those two got into her room, but they at least seemed harmless. "But it's just…"

"No, it isn't. Look at the faces," the Doctor knew what the woman had been thinking and urged her to pay better attention.

The man was growling and barking instead of the dog.

The woman couldn't take it. "What? I'm sorry, but what!?"

"It's all one creature. One creature disguised as two! Now you really must go!" Renata tried turning the woman away, missing the way the man and the dog turned their head at them.

"Are you kidding!? I'm not leaving that there! In my house!"

"I am curious how it's pulling that psychic link if it needs a live feed," the Doctor admitted while he continued to study the man and dog. "How did you fix that?" He got a snarl as a response, followed by a threatening step towards them.

Renata yanked him back. "Please don't question the enemy when it can kill us! Am I also going to have to constantly repeat that in this regeneration!?"

"Well, I won't lie…" the Doctor swayed his head, figuring this was just another core personality trait for him.

'Attention, Prisoner Zero. The human residence is surrounded. Attention Prisoner Zero. 'The human residence is surrounded.'

The ginger woman's eyes widened in alarm. She spun around trying to find the source of the voice until Renata stopped her. Good thing she did because the woman was near dizzy. "What's that?"

'Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated.'

"Okay, now we run!" the Doctor ushered Renata and the woman down the stairs. He used the sonic to lock the house door, hoping that would buy them some time.

Renata studied the woman while the Doctor made sure the door was actually locked. His sonic was acting a bit wonky. "Seriously, what's a kissogram?" She eyed the odd uniform, bobbing her head side to side. "And does it always involve short skirts?"

The ginger woman gave her a look. "Seriously?"

Renata innocently shrugged. She had only lived on Earth from 1913 to 1969 and the one year in the modern world that she spent with the Master against her will — she was mostly locked away. She didn't have a lot of time to truly get to know the humans in modern times.

"I go to parties and kiss people!"

Renata cocked her head to one side. "And you get paid for that?"

"Yes!"

Renata considered what that must be like and she soon crinkled her nose when she decided that would not be a job she would be interested in. "And the costume is from these parties?"

"You broke into my house! It was this or a French maid!"

"Makes sense," Renata concluded. The Doctor finally got some handle on the sonic and yanked her and the woman away from the house.

"What's going on? Tell me! Tell me!" the woman rightfully demanded as they crossed the yard towards the TARDIS.

"An alien convict is hiding in your spare room disguised as a man and a dog, and some other aliens are about to incinerate your house. Any questions?"

The woman flipped her head to Renata, but the Time Lady confirmed the story with a nod. "Sort of it, sorry."

The Doctor groaned at the TARDIS who wouldn't open her doors. "No, no, don't do that, not now! It's still rebuilding, not letting us in!"

"Well what'd you expect after the number we put her through?" Renata gave the TARDIS and sympathetic glance. "We'll just have to make do until she's ready."

'Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated.'

The Doctor flapped an arm at the house behind them. "We need the TARDIS! How can we stop them if I don't have the TARDIS!?"

"Never stopped you before," Renata smiled at him. The Doctor stopped fussing with the TARDIS to meet her smiling gaze.

The woman groaned at them and grabbed each of the pair's arms. "Come on!"

The Doctor would've let her take them to the street had he not seen the new-looking shed on the side of the garden. "No, wait, hang on, wait, wait, wait. The shed!" he got loose from the woman's hold and rushed up to the shed. Renata blinked at the sight of it as well. "We destroyed that shed last time we were here, smashed it to pieces!"

"So there's a new one. Let's go!" the woman tried pulling Renata with her but now the Time Lady was suspicious as well. She pried the woman's hand off her wrist and studied the shed.

"It might be new but it's also old," Renata said as she noticed the darkened spots of the shed's wood. The Doctor ran a hand down the wood. "It could be—" she stopped mid-word when the Doctor licked his finger to taste the wood. Renata scrunched her face, eyes shutting close. "Doctor—"

"12 years!" the Doctor whirled around with the right answer, stunning Renata in the process. He marched back to them, specifically to the ginger woman. "We're not six months late, we're 12 years late!"

"It's been 12 years," Renata felt her stomach churn wondering how angry little Amelia must have been with them. They broke their promise to her!

Meanwhile, the woman seemed more nervous than a few seconds ago. "He's coming!" she made a nod at the house still in danger of being incinerated.

"You said six months. Why did you say six months?" Renata got right in her face, demanding to hear the truth. She knew that the woman was hiding something. She knew the way people kept secrets because that had been her main job not too long ago.

"We've got to!" the woman insisted but Renata grabbed her arm tightly. The woman knew something about Amelia, what with those big eyes—

"The big eyes…" Renata whispered with her own wide eyes.

The woman only stared at her, mildly confused, but otherwise still nervous. "Look, we've got to go!"

"Not until you tell us!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Why did you say six months?"

The woman's thin eyebrows furrowed together as pain flashed across her face. "Why did you say five minutes?!" she shouted at both of them, pulling her arm out of Renata's hold.

"What?" the Doctor practically froze in his spot, only moving his head to see Renata staring sadly at the woman.

"She has the same big eyes," she told him. "Amelia's big eyes."

The woman, who was indeed Amelia, glared at her. "They are not big! C'mon!" She led the way out of the house, figuring if they wanted to continue with the conversation they would follow her into the street.

"You're Amelia!?" the Doctor was right behind the woman, forcing her to stop just to look at her again.

"You're late!" hissed Amelia and continued to walk.

"You were a little girl," Renata did her best to keep up with Amelia's fast pace. "Amelia Pond!"

"I'm Amelia and you're late!" Amelia hissed directly at Renata's face, eyes blazing with anger. "Five minutes my a—"

"I'm so sorry!" Renata threw her arms around the woman, hugging her tight.

Amelia had been expecting anything but that. Her big, green eyes flickered all around while she awkwardly stood there being hugged. She met the Doctor's gaze who was smiling softly at Renata.

"We didn't mean to be late! I'm never late!" Renata pulled away from Amelia, looking her over one more time. She was a complete adult now! Renata sighed and brought a hand to her forehead, letting her fingers dig through her black hair. "Amelia, I am so sorry. We really did mean to come back but the TARDIS is just…" She trailed off and shook her head, deciding that Amelia probably wasn't interested in excuses. She'd been wronged and she was rightfully upset. "No excuses. We're sorry. I did think of a star for you, though. I thought the Big Dipper might have been good. It's a popular one amongst the humans. I'm sorry."

Amelia arched a confused eyebrow at the Time Lady. She looked so guilty that it made Amelia feel like she was wrong for being so angry. How did Renata make that happen!? She glanced at the Doctor and while he looked pretty guilty himself, it was nothing compared to Renata. She was horrified.

Amelia wondered for the first time in 12 years, who really are these two aliens? She spent all her life imagining them in adventures that now that she had them actually in front of her, she had to rewrite everything she knew about them. Who was the Doctor? And who was Renata?

Author's Note:

And there's our first chapter! I am SUPER excited to move onto this story (I think some of yall may have noticed before). We've already seen a glimpse of what Amy thinks of the Time Lords and how they see her, specifically Renata. Their relationship will be a little more complicated because of Ren's drive to maintain the rules buuuut we'll see how it goes ;)

#ocap #doctor who #11th doctor #dw imagine #11th doctor imagine #dw fics #11th doctor fics #oc: Renata Cartwright

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iamnightduchess · 4 years

Text

Afterthoughts

(SnK 128)

To the Yeagerists thinking that they can take down both the Armored Titan & the Female Titan, well, hate to reiterate this BUT the last time someone managed to deal the final incapacitating blow to either one of them had been only one person:

Mikasa "BAMF" Ackerman

She, who was worth a hundred soldiers when she was a fresh graduate, at this point would have been worth more than several hundreds of Yeagerists and also fighting together WITH both titans.

"Boo... she's a slave. xx is better than her."

"She's an ice-cold bitch. How dare she treated Louise, a dying girl, like that?"

"How can she feel empathy for people of the world she doesn't even know of personally compared to a girl who worships her & somewhat 'emotionally blackmailed' her dedication towards Eren?"

"How could she work with the same group of people who tried to murder her days before?"

Bashing Mikasa herself as a character is one thing, comparing her to another character is a low blow. She grieved & mourned for Sasha, she's compassionate towards Gabi & Falco. She has compassion and mercy towards people that needs it. Louise is anything but.

Back to the Yeagerists, the trigger-happy bunch needs to hide behind guns & gears they're not even well-adapt on to instil fear, while homegirl need no more than her freaking bare hands to defend herself and fight for what she believes in.

"She's a traitor. She betrayed her own comrades and the people on the island."

Paradis is her home but do you think she'd rather sit quietly, turn a blind eye towards the Yeagerists' drunkenness towards power, ascension towards madness & live with bloods of the many innocents (related or non-related to Eldian history) on her hands? She would rather die fighting for what she believes in, just like how her parents have taught her. Her childhood was first destroyed when selfish, violent humans imposed into her family's home. She's been there at nine years old. Like hell she'll be okay with the Yeagerists' stand. If someone comes into your house to fuck with your freedom/rights, you have the right to defend BUT not to go on a killing spree of all potential criminals out there and take justice into your own hands unless you're Batman. Isn't that what Mikasa & co did when Marley's battalion came days before? Guess what? The battalion left the Warriors and Magath behind & that does not mean JCAM should kill the leftover Marleyans and watch passively as Eren released not a group but ALL of the CTs inside the walls to fuck with the rest of the world.

Chapter 127 & 128 are displaying the courage Mikasa needed to fight for her own ideals for the first time - even if that means going against Eren's will.

Just saying, some people can go on and on about the tasteless, exhausting slave memes/jokes or their neverending barrage of vitriol against the 'cringevengers' just because they believe in a will that is different than their 'genocidal overlord'.

At this point of his story, Isayama has clearly place both sides on the scale: there are no rights or wrongs, good guys or bad guys as we were initially introduced to. We have seen both perspectives.

If you think because it's fictional, therefore genocide is alright, go on ahead. Though that does not justify the hatred you've been displaying towards the MarleyParadis Alliance.

I understand Eren's drive & actions BUT it does not mean I accept his will. However, that does not justify that I should hate on & attack his character. If you want to project your personal ideals on either side's characters, you are more than welcomed to do so but please have more class than that.

I believe that is the series' creator's intention.

"If Isayama lets the cringevengers win, that is bad writing."

"I hope the cringevengers lose. They're ungrateful for what Eren's doing for them."

"The alliance are a bunch of idiots with no plan."

"Yes it's his series, but as a fan, I deserved the right to express my unhappiness with the way he wrote this and this."

So, you'd rather JCAM just sit on their asses & do nothing?

Eren wins. Freedom for Paradis achieved. Rest of cringevengers settle down & have kids while the rest of the world retaliates in 50 years. Magath, Warriors & co. can die. Ok, The End.

What kind of values do you think Isayama wants to deliver through HIS story?

Reiner & Annie understood that the Warriors have no right to ask JCAM of anything. Reiner even suggested they stay behind in safety so they won't be forced to make that difficult decision like they did. (Look at how far the kids have grown?)

Interesting theme to note: Mercy. Sasha showed Gabi mercy but the same girl that she spared shot her to death. Gabi didn't understand then. Second round, Mikasa showed her mercy and Gabi finally understood. It finally humbled her.

Hate on Hajime Isayama all you want, as everyone can see on BSM's latest cover, the man's filthy rich enough to open his own sustainable business after SnK wraps with the royalty he gets from merchandise, prints and all. His 'bad writing' got him published & he has set his mind on an ending that would hurt some of us. If the alliance loses, Eren perseveres & millions die, it would hurt me so much but I would respect that because that is the route Isayama has chosen. I am already grateful for the opportunity & the experience he had blessed us all with.

Isayama doesn't owe anyone shit. He's a content creator, he is telling HIS story, not yours. As fans, shouldn't you take his material and learn something from it instead of making fun of or hating his decisions? Debate constructively please but stop spreading the hate.

You can choose to opt out of the series, moan all you want but in the end, you'll be the first group of people who would be obsessing with any ounce of spoilers at the beginning of a new month. Stop attacking or provoking people who is 'on the other side' of the ideal you believe in.

I am just someone who wants to share. As fans, we have the right to disagree with some of Isayama's stance/direction but there are always lesson(s) to be learnt:

Respect & Love.

You can love someone & still disagree with their ideals and be on the opposite side. In the end, Mikasa loves herself enough to decide on her own to stop Eren. As fans, stop projecting your hate towards the characters. Learn from them instead.

#snk spoilers #snk 127 #snk 128 #personal opinion #mikasa ackerman #aot spoilers #shingeki no kyojin #unpopular opinion #snk opinion #attack on titan #aot opinion

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hysteriium · 5 years

Note

Imagine spending the Christmas season with Arthur.

OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS I GONNA TURN THIS INTO HEADCANONS I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND!!

He’d probably be the happiest during holiday seasons, not just because Gotham is transformed into something more tolerable than its everyday experience, but also because he’d be able to spend more time with you.

All the cute little outings you’d both have would simply fill his heart with joy.

For example, ice skating!

Watching you fumble around, and cling onto him like a cub to its mother was something that amused him to no end.

Much to your surprise, Arthur was a lot better than he had let on - hell, better than you.

If you left with a few bruises from some falls - which, let’s be honest, if you’re a clumsy bitch like me it would HAPPEN - Arthur would kiss the wounds ever so tenderly when you got home.

As the rink was in the park, you’d finish ice skating under the pretty lights, eyes never leaving each other as smiles graced both your lips; hopelessly and utterly in love.

His arm would wrap around you in a warming embrace, pulling you into his side.

Often you’d go for a stroll as snow decorated the small park, and Arthur, being a cheeky LAD would absolutely steal kisses from you. Pecks, small nose kisses, and nose rubs.

He’d look so cute in his little beanies!!! He’d also perfectly complement them with his sweaters since he loves colours so much!

SPEAKING OF SWEATERS:

Ugly sweaters. No arguments. If you reject the sweater he bought for you he will be a v sad boi.

NO doubt he’d get you matching Christmas sweaters.

He probably owns more ugly sweaters than actual sweaters; this is sort of worrying but also, let the man live.

ALSO - SNOW:

Arthur loves snow - so so so much! If he saw any indication snow - small white specks drifting from the sky - he’d rush the both of you out of your shared apartment and force you to catch snowflakes with him.

S N O W A N G E L S.

S N O W M E N.

Arthur would totally be the type to name the snowman. He’d pretend it was an actual person - give it a personality and a voice. It’s wholesome and it would make you laugh - literally one of his main aims.

The cute blush coating his cheeks during the colder days, as well as the pink tint decorating his nose, was probably one of the cutest things about the season. Yep, freezing your ass off was worth it just to see him.

LOVES LOVES LOVES CHRISTMAS SONGS.

He’d know all the words ngl - especially to the classics.

THIS BOI WOULD BLARE THE RECORD PLAYER WITH SOME FUNKY CHRISTMAS JAZZ SONGS AND THERE WOULD BE NOTHING YOU COULD DO TO STOP HIM.

This would also include a lot of dancing.

And not JUST slow dancing - he’d TEAR up the dance floor (why am I laughing at the imagery of this holy shit).

Also, even though you two have been together for a while, he’d definitely use the mistletoe as an excuse to kiss you.

Mistletoe kisses may lead to something more ;))) who am I kidding it ALMOST always does.

ALSO - BAKINGS CHRISTMAS THEMED GOODS!!!

Even if you weren’t good at baking, Arthur would swoop in to save the day. While he wasn’t the best either, his company was something that made the experience more tolerable.

MESSY FLOUR FIGHTS.

If you somehow managed to get sugar on your lips, that man would immediately press his lips to yours and wipe it clean off.

Arthur always loved witnessing your excited form react to your creations. Like a game of pocky, you’d share a Christmas cookie with him.

Lots and lots of Christmas movies!

Movie marathons often led to sleeping on the couch and you’d both be bundled up in each other’s arms, deep in slumber. Other times you’d fall asleep with your head in his lap and he’d remain in that position until he too, gave into the numb embrace. He hated waking you up - you looked so peaceful and he didn’t want to disrupt that.

—

HERE’S A LITTLE DRABBLE BECAUSE I COULDN’T RESIST HEHEHE:

When you had woken up without Arthur at your side you knew immediately something was up. Whether this was a good or bad thing you weren’t entirely sure, it wasn’t like the cold intent in the mattress beside you could have told you anything.

Without wasting another second, you slid out of bed, arms pulling down the long tee you had stolen borrowed from your boyfriend as you exited the room. Still yet to recover from the grogginess of sleep, it took you a moment to realise the song softly reverberating through the halls was Bing Crosby’s ‘White Christmas,’ an old jazz tune. The season-specific music was soft enough to sustain your slumber, though the closer you got to the living room, the more prominent the melody became.

“Arthur?” You called.

The lack of response was something that made your brows furrow.

By the time you had fully reached the living room, you had recovered from your dazed state. Though, as the mixture of cinnamon, intertwined with vanilla - a warm, sweet scent, lingered and your eyes flickered around the room, you were met with a sight that may as well of propelled you back into your state of unconsciousness; the unexpected view making your jaw drop. Arthur had managed, in what you hoped was a short time, to set up the Christmas tree you bought days prior, decorated completely with baubles and ornaments. He had also managed to hang up stockings, and a modest, petite wreath.

“Surprise!” Arthur, who had heard your approach, beamed. After drinking in your amazed expression, no doubt getting a kick out of it, he climbed down from the ladder he was using to hang fuzzy strips of garland.

You embraced his slender form with a laugh, breathing in the fresh minty scent of his skin - newly out of the shower.

Guilt nagged at you.

“You did this all by yourself?”

As he nestled his nose into the crook your neck, inhaling the heavenly scent of your shampoo, he nodded into you, followed by a hum.

He must’ve sensed your guilty conscious because as you were about to protest, he murmured a soft ‘don’t,’ giving you a small peck on your shoulder. Arthur spent moments relishing in the affection before he pulled away.

“Besides,” he paused, his fingers curled into the pocket of his grey sweatpants, “I was saving the best for last.”

When he found the item he was looking for, he quickly produced a bundle of green stems, held together by a thin, crimson bow. Leaves protruded from the sides of the stalks and towards the ends, small spheres of white hung. With a plant so famed, so iconic, it was impossible to mistake it as anything else.

Mistletoe.

“Smooth, Fleck. Smooth,” you grinned and reached up to cup his cheeks. Projecting a smile back, one that had the potential to charm anyone, he swiftly captured your lips; slow and loving.

It was with that gentle act of love, which confirmed you were in for one hell of a holiday; a promise of elation.

////

Sorry, I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE LENGTH AGAIN. Also, it’s like 4 am and I haven’t properly scanned for grammatical errors so I HOPE THIS IS DECENT AAAA I’ll edit in the morning yeet!

#kat answers #drabble #joker 2019 #joaquin phoenix joker #joker imagine #joker x reader #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck imagine #arthur fleck #fluff #my writing #headcanons #joker headcannons #Joker headcanons

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jincherie · 6 years

Text

tentacledipity | three

➛pairing: jimin x reader ➛genre: alien au, space au, soulmate au, wanted au, smut (coming) ➛rating: sfw ➛words: 11.1k ➛warnings: none really jimothy snaps later on ➛notes: wow this took a while but I’m back tentacle fuckers! this one is double the size of the usual update so i hope it makes up for how long it took me a little bit. From the looks of the poll this will probably be the series I focus on first!

also; I will add links at a later date! pls enjoy & lmk what u think!

This tale starts, as any good fiction does, with a girl crash landing on a foreign planet. And, like any good fiction, it follows a theme of serendipitous happening, and tentacles. Behold, serendipity and tentacles— or dare we call it…. tentacledipity.

— posted; 17.03.2019 // ↞ prev. || three || next ↠

Not for the first time in your stay on this planet, you found yourself once more overcome with awe at the sheer beauty of your surroundings.

Today was a day you’d been looking forward to ever since Seokjin had asked you if you’d like to tag along three days ago—today you finally ventured past the tall, looming obsidian walls that guarded the edge of the palace’s property. You were going into town! The fabled city that nestled below the incline upon which the palace sat, with markets, stalls, parks, and all the other good things you’d heard of from Namjoon and the other humans but hadn’t had the pleasure of experiencing yet. You were beyond excited, quite literally bouncing down the path beside Seokjin. Contrary to what you might have expected, the male was surprisingly unbothered by your sudden hyperactivity. In fact, you suspected from the slight bounce in his step that he was barely restraining himself from skipping down the path with you.

“Where are we going first?” you couldn’t help yourself from asking Seokjin, not for the first time. Your arms were swinging and you felt a bit like a child but were too excited to really care.

Seokjin snorted as your hastened pace caused you to trip on a dark plum-coloured branch that had fallen onto the black stone path and blended in. His arm shot out with ease and stopped you from face-planting, a sheepish laugh tumbling from your throat in response.

“Well, I have a list of supplies I am to fetch. Normally a task like this would be assigned to someone in a lesser position, but since the event is so important it has fallen onto me. Additionally, it occurred to me that you hadn’t seen the town yet and might enjoy the opportunity to venture past the palace walls.”

“Aw, Seokjinnie~” you cooed immediately, your first instinct always to give in to your playful whims. You paused your skipping to latch onto the kelkie’s arm dramatically, nearly tripping again in the process. Was it your shoes? Or were you just incredibly uncoordinated today? “How kind of you, I can always trust you to take care of me!”

Seokjin let out a loud laugh at that, allowing you to cling for a moment before he peeled you off. “I know, I’m far too generous and considerate. Combined with my incredible good looks, it is a wonder I do not have suitors lining up for miles.”

You joined him in his laughter, bracing yourself on his arm. You didn’t bother adding to that since it was already funny enough as is, and in the following comfortable silence the male’s words from earlier caught up to you.

“Wait,” you turned to face the tall male, watching as his raven hair rustled in the breeze and patches of sunlight lit his skin in a golden glow. His dark eyes swept to meet yours, the light colouring them deep chocolate. You were thankful the walk so far had been one that was mostly under the cover of the foliage because you didn’t fancy the idea of being fried alive beneath the full force of the sun’s rays. “You’re going shopping for things for an event? An important event? What’s happening?”

Seokjin seemed surprised at your question. “You don’t know?” he queried, “Jimin didn’t tell you anything?”

At the mention of the male your heart simultaneously skipped a beat and dropped slightly. A surprising mix of a reaction, but one that occurred mostly because you hadn’t actually seen the male much at all since your last encounter in the gardens. Apart from glimpses caught in hallways or through windows, he proved to be as elusive as always. Something that tickled your competitive side about as much as it disappointed you. You just wanted to see the prospective alien love of your life, damn it.

“I haven’t really seen Jimin in a while…” you said, unaware of how your face was betraying your current state of perturb. Seokjin’s keen eyes caught every shift in your features, his lips pursing in concern and curiosity at the sudden drop in your mood. He waited a few moments to see if you were going to continue before he spoke.

“You are… a little hard to read,” he noted, bringing your gaze from the ground to his face. “What are you thinking, cheeky human?”

You frowned, considering whether it was worth telling Seokjin. A part of you wanted to keep your mouth shut, simply because you felt a bit like a fool thanks to your current train of thought, but the rest of you wanted desperately to let it all out and to talk to someone. You didn’t do well with bottling things up, and your philosophy was always more along the lines of the more communication the better anyway, so you ultimately decided you may as well spill your thoughts to the curious alien walking alongside you. Besides, he knew Jimin—perhaps he could offer some important insight.

You mulled over how to word what was running through your mind for a few moments before giving up and just attempting to go for it. “I… I just can’t help but wonder… You know, he seems busy, and I don’t see him much, but sometimes it’s like…”

Pausing to order your thoughts a little more, Seokjin waited patiently for you to continue. You sighed, deciding to bite the bullet, “It’s not me, is it? Is he really avoiding me? Does he hate me that much? I know I’m a little unbearable but still… that shit hurted.”

If Seokjin was perplexed at some of your speech habits he didn’t show it, instead gazing at you with a look that was somehow thoughtful and sympathetic despite the trickle of amusement you caught glimmering behind his eyes.

“I think,” he began, turning his gaze forward as he sorted his thoughts and the two of you continued down the path; you glimpsed something just beyond the trees as you waited for him to continue. “I think… you are something he hasn’t ever encountered before. I have not ever seen anyone interact with him the way you do, so I think that if he is avoiding you… it is because he is flustered.”

You felt your mouth drop slightly, forming a tiny ‘o’ shape. Seokjin continued, returning his gaze to yours; the warmth in his eyes helped to soothe the slight aches troubling your heart a little. “But besides that, the celebration that is coming—it is… incredibly important, probably the biggest one in over twenty sweeps—sorry, years. So it could also be that he is just busy. Jimin and I have received the biggest portion of work for this, since we are the King’s closest and most trusted advisors.”

Nodding, you took a moment to process all that. What he said made sense, and to his credit… actually served to mollify your worries a little. You felt a smile beginning to tug your lips once more, already over the brief stormy spell in your mood. Wow, Seokjin was a really good counsellor. No wonder he was one of the King’s best advisors, as he so often proclaimed.

“Thanks, Seokjin,” you said sincerely, offering him a bright grin. He returned it and you allowed a moment before the curve to your lips turned sly. “Anyway… back to the important topic at hand… just what is this celebration that’s so big and important that the King’s right- and left-hand men are working so hard to organise it?”

Seokjin mirrored your look, and you knew in that instant that this shit-stirring bastard wasn’t going to spill a single drop to you. He cooed instead of an answer, reaching to ruffle your hair.

“You can wait and find out with the rest of the population,” he snickered at the petulant look on your face. “Don’t think you get any special privileges just because you are awfully endearing for a human.”

Accepting that you weren’t going to get any more out of him regarding the mysterious celebration, you instead latched onto the other part of the sentence. You batted your lashes, giving him a shit-stirring grin. “You think I’m endearing?”

Seokjin let out a loud groan, distracting you as you rounded a harsh bend in the path. “I should have known when they told me you were like me that they weren’t kidding,” he lamented, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head dramatically. “I am sorry y/n, but this planet only has enough room for one Seokjin. I am going to have to dispose of you… imposter.”

You laughed loudly at that, playful banter one of the things that truly sustains you. You opened your mouth to shoot back an equally riveting response when your attention was suddenly captured by the sight in front of you. Your mouth dropped open, eyes shooting wide. You missed Seokjin’s smug look at your current awestruck state.

You’d finally reached the town, and it was… beautiful.

Streams trickled alongside the path on either side, clear and crystalline and glimmering turquoise as they flowed between the edge of what you presumed to be a large, two-story homes built from smooth marble-like stone and the obsidian path. The road was a bit more worn as you entered the town, but still made for stunning visuals when paired with everything else. The area you were currently in appeared to be more of a residential one, the path leading to a large circular area in the middle of the section that branched off in main pathways in each direction. From those pathways more would split; short, curved stone that bridged the path to the front door of the homes over the stream, which acted as a moat of sorts around each structure. In the middle of the circle was a small water feature that had gorgeous water flora floating along the bottom pool, glistening prettily as the droplets of moisture caught the light.

“You are so easily impressed,” Seokjin mused, bringing your attention back to the current moment. The two of you had halted on the path right at the entrance to the town where the foliage ended and the buildings began. “It is as though you have never seen a residential section… what does it look like, on Earth?”

“Ugly,” you answered immediately, snorting at the shocked look that flitted across the male’s features. “I mean… some areas were pretty, but those kinds of areas are the ones that only richer people could afford. Most of the population couldn’t afford it, so they lived in places that are… less well-kept and structured.”

Seokjin seemed appalled at that, wide eyes flitting from you to the scene around you. “You mean to say that not everyone in your cities gets the same opportunity for housing?”

You nodded regretfully, Seokjin’s jaw dropping. “Most people live in decent places, but a lot of people live in housing that doesn’t have the main necessities, like clean water, or in a house that is falling apart because it is old. It’s… not great. It is better than it used to be, but there are still a lot of people who live like that—at least, there was, last time I was there. A lot of people can’t afford homes too, so they live on the street. Homeless.”

“That is preposterous!” Seokjin exclaimed, eyes alight with fury at the injustice present on your home planet—oh, if only he knew the half of it. “Everyone deserves the right to live in security! Does your ruler, your government not help them? Do they just leave them to suffer?”

You scratched the back of your neck. “I mean, a lot of people try and fix things but… humans have a long history of shitty actions and behaviours that is hard to undo. I mean, it’s part of why the environment and nature is so shot to hell. Humans ruined it.”

The male seemed to pick up how sad you were about that fact in particular, as he stepped forward and looped your arm with his.

“I do not understand the rest of your species,” he said decisively, beginning to move the two of you further into the town. “But I am glad that it was you who happened to come crashing down into our orchards. I think we have been lucky in only getting to meet the best humans.”

You let out a laugh at that, swinging your arms cheerfully. “True! And dude, even I don’t understand humans. It’s impossible.”

That brought a hearty chuckle from the male, and the two of you delved into another conversation as he led you further into the city and pointed everything out to you as you moved by it.

As the morning passed and you spent it following Seokjin around as he went to gather everything he had on the sneaky list he never let you fully glimpse, you began to grow familiar with the market portion of the town. Stalls upon stalls set up for trade, bigger boutiques and kiosks nestled into small buildings that provided shelter from the sweltering sun. While you moved through the slight crowd and cheerful chatter that filled the air, many things caught your eye, and Seokjin actually ended up purchasing a dress for you—not because you asked him to, but because he saw it and proclaimed quite loudly that it would suit you so well it was “practically made for you”. The vendor was a sweet elderly kelkie with what looked to be a tattoo curling up her neck and peeking over the edge of her jaw. When she caught you looking at it she smiled in amusement, but her attention was quickly taken by an elder male that sidled up to her with a fond look, running his hand across her shoulder and speaking to her in the native tongue you still had no idea how to understand. To your complete and utter curiosity, you noted that he had a matching tattoo in the exact same place in the exact same style. You knew better than to ask or comment on it, but couldn’t help but think to yourself how sweet that was. Ah, love. Marvellous to behold, truly.

You tailed after Seokjin like an awestruck little duckling, having to grasp the end of his shirt so you didn’t get lost. Despite how many stores and stalls he visited, the pile in his arms wasn’t that big. You supposed a lot of the things he had gone for were things that would need to be ordered and delivered to the palace for the mystery celebration. It was really burning you alive, not knowing what was going on, but you supposed that if even the people inhabiting the town by the palace didn’t know then you could bear to wait a little longer. It wasn’t like you were that left out of the loop.

As Seokjin neared the end of his list, you found yourself more than a little saddened that your trip was soon to come to an end. This was the first time you’d really been out of the palace and in all honesty, you thought you were in love with the town and the sweet townspeople who shot you bright smiles despite the fact you were very obviously not even from their planet. You knew as soon as you returned to your room in the palace that you were going to feel a sense of loss and emptiness. Now that you’ve tasted freedom, could you go back to what you had before? That sounded a bit dramatic, but all you meant was would you be able to resist the urge to sneak out every so often?

The answer was a very obvious no, and while you didn’t care that you were sneaking out you were a little regretful in advance for the scoldings you were going to get. Inevitable, you supposed. Couldn’t be helped.

A few of the stalls you’d passed had piqued your interest a little, but none so much that you had the urge to stop Seokjin and investigate. You were very much aware this was more of a sight-seeing trip than anything—hell, you didn’t even have any of whatever currency the Kelkie used. Actually, you take that back a little. You’d found out today that a lot of stalls aren’t that strict on the currency. Many will settle for a trade. The thing is, you didn’t think you had anything of worth to trade. Sad times in the y/n kingdom, it seemed.

Things changed when you began on your way out of the market area though, as you turned with Seokjin and caught sight of something glimmering in your peripheral. You halted on the spot, head whipping and a loud gasp tearing from your lips. Was that… jewellery? Seokjin, who had halted when you did, seemed amused that the thing that had finally caught your attention after a morning of wandering was sparkly metals and jewels.

You’d planned on just staring at the door to the boutique, and jumped when Seokjin spoke, his voice closer than you’d anticipated.

“You want to go have a look?” he queried, grinning when you turned to him with wide eyes shining hopefully. “Alright, let us go.”

You couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across your face, eager to follow the tall male into the boutique and keep up the duckling act from earlier. The outside was a sleek mix of black, navy and white marble-like stone, a sign of similar material placed by the door and engraved, with the letters painted pretty silver to stand out against the inky colour of the backing. You couldn’t read it, of course, but were happy to go and investigate nonetheless. Discoveries were more exciting when you had less clues as to what they were!

A soft tinkle rang above you as the two of you entered, the inside of the store painted a smooth, deep teal colour on some walls and stark pearl on others. There were rows of jewellery along the walls and on the short aisles in the middle of the room, but some of them looks peculiarly shaped and you weren’t sure what they were for… until you glanced one in particular with a barbell-like sculpt and realised belatedly that this was both a jewellery and piercing boutique. Your surprise must have shown on your face because Seokjin ended up laughing softly from beside you.

You were startled from your keen observations of the pretty jewels by a low voice from deeper into the store. Jumping in fright, your gaze whipped up; further towards the back there was a counter, more jewellery displayed on shelves beneath, and a tall Kelkie male who possessed broad shoulders, deep golden skin and a cheery smile. He was speaking in the language native to Kilkhea, if the familiar clicks and rolling sounds were anything to go by, and his gaze was flicking between you and Seokjin. He seemed pleased to see the advisor, marks across his cheeks and arms flushed calm blue.

To your surprise, in your curious observation of his features you found he had a number of piercings. Two jewels embedded in the skin under the outer edge of each eye, large, thick silvery hoops in his ears and a piercing just below the plump flesh of his bottom lip, the metal supporting a thin charm that dangled prettily against his chin as he talked.

The conversation went right over your head as Seokjin let out a laugh and responded in kind, patting your shoulder as he said something that was no doubt about you.

You let your gaze wonder as they conversed, brought back to the present when Seokjin suddenly addressed you.

“y/n, this is Hyunwoo,” Seokjin said, smiling big. “He is the town’s main jeweller and responsible for clan piercings.”

The male said something suddenly, a teasing lilt to his voice, and the Kelkie beside you snorted. “He says to call him Shownu since that is what everyone calls him anyway.”

The male nodded, satisfied, and you couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you. “It’s nice to meet you, Shownu! I’m y/n.”

Seokjin translated for you, and Shownu nodded at you once more with a smile. The raven-haired male beside you turned to face you in question.

“Does your clan participate in piercings?” he queried, tilting his head. “Do humans do something similar to this? You seemed like you recognised some of these…”

“Yeah, humans do it,” you affirmed, allowing your gaze to sweep over the contents of the shop before returning to Seokjin. “But I’m not sure what you mean… my clan? Do you mean my family?”

The male nodded, taking initiative to fill you in further at the sight of your confused expression. “It is tradition here for some clans—some families—to get a certain set of jewelleries and piercings on their twenty-fourth birthday. Shownu was the one who did mine— my clan does not have many interesting ones, save for the, uh… ears, and here…”

You weren’t sure what you had expected him to show you, but it certainly hadn’t been his tongue. He slipped it past his lips, and you nearly fell over in shock as you registered the sight of the pearlescent metal sitting in the middle of the flushed muscle. What the hell—had that been there the whole time?! And you didn’t even know?!

He returned his tongue back to its place, letting out a loud laugh at your shaken expression. “It was funny to show the other humans that too,” he admitted, incredibly amused. “For some reason, you never expect it.”

“It’s probably because you don’t look like the type of person who would get it back on Earth,” you said, grinning. “We don’t really get them to continue tradition, a lot of people get them just because they want them or think they’re pretty.”

Seokjin nodded, “Ah, that is true of some people here too. Do you have any, y/n?”

You nodded, pulling your hair back to show him the rings and studs in your ears. “I always wanted to get ones in other places, but I was a little scared… plus I never got the time to get them on earth, and I’m not about to look for reputable piercers in the back rooms of interspace stations.”

The Kelkie snorted at that, peering curiously at your ears and nodding in approval at what he observed. Shownu’s eyes seemed to light up as he caught sight of your bejewelled ears, beckoning you closer so he could have a look. You moved over without complaint, leaning so he could inspect the metal and jewels easier. You could hear him muttering to himself every so often, fingers softly prodding and nudging as his marked shifted shades of blue.

“Understandable,” Seokjin said, amusement curling in his tone. “But if you wanted them… why not get one here? There are many arrays to choose from.”

You fixed him with a pondering look, chewing your lip. “Would that even be okay?” you asked, worried about overstepping your bounds as a foreigner—as an alien on this planet. “Aren’t they important to you and other kelkie?”

Seokjin shrugged. “They are a rite of passage, but they are not especially meaningful aside from that. Often, they are just a marker of adulthood, and which clan you belong to. Still, some Kelkie pierce as they like. You’re human, so you are not really bound to any of our traditions. I think if you chose something, the clan that possesses that piercing would probably feel honoured you chose it.”

You hummed, mulling that over. His words soothed your worries somewhat, and as you turned your gaze over the jewels and pieces before you, your mind filtered back to the one you’d noticed earlier. The barbell, commonly used for navel piercings… something in your gut urged you towards that, and as someone that more often than not followed her instincts above all else, you were inclined to choose it.

“Do you… are there any, for here?” you queried, lifting your shirt and pointing above your bellybutton. Seokjin tilted his head, something curious yet unreadable curling in his gaze. Shownu grinned, shifting in excitement as he moved to grab a box from the top shelf behind him, bringing it back before you. Opening it, you were exposed to a soft cushion displaying a number of beautiful, intricate barbells with charms and jewels. You couldn’t help your gasp.

“Your…?” Seokjin said something in his mother tongue that you had no idea how to interpret but hazarded a guess as to what he meant. “Are you going to get it? We have time.”

“We call it a bellybutton,” you informed him, and he nodded in understanding with the slightest bit of perplexment, possibly at the name itself. Excitement began to curl within you at the possibility of finally getting to do this after hoping for it all your teen years, but you came crashing back to the present as you remembered part of why you hadn’t done it before.

“Ah, but I don’t have any money,” you said, taking a step from the counter and shooting Shownu an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I can’t believe I forgot.”

Shownu shook his head, giving you a kind smile. Seokjin said something to him, receiving a rapid response and a smile. He turned back to you grinning brightly.

“He says that he is happy to trade in the stead of currency.”

You could feel you face lit up, before you realised your predicament in that sense as well. You sighed, “I don’t have anything to—wait!”

Your sudden exclamation had both males straightening, looking on curiously. You reached under the material of your shirt, with a little difficulty thanks to the high neckline, and fished around until you found what you were looking for and unclasped the two chains that found their way into your grasp. Shownu’s eyes lit up as you pulled the necklaces from your shirt, both gold and decorated with a different jewelled charm each. They weren’t really anything special, just things you’d once gotten from a prospective suitor and thought were pretty enough to keep.

The Kelkie chattered excitedly as he took them into his hold, waving his free hand at Seokjin as he inspected them eagerly. You wondered if he was so interested because almost all of the jewellery Kelkie had was of variations of silvery metal.

“He says this is more than enough for just the piercing—is there anything else you want while we’re here?” Seokjin translated, seeming proud of you in the way you presumed a mother would be of a child who was making their first purchase.

Excited, you let your gaze wander and your mind run. Was there anything you wanted in particular? You didn’t really feel any extra need for jewellery now that you were getting one in your navel, but you didn’t want to waste the opportunity…

Your pondering came to an abrupt end when you caught sight of something to the side, something that almost seemed to glow in a bid to catch your attention. You gasped softly, moving over to inspect it closer.

It was a necklace, the chain consisting of thickly woven silver links, intertwined with a molten-grey metal you didn’t think you’d seen yet. The silver was almost pearlescent, resembling mother of pearl more than it did actual silver from your home planet, but was firm beneath your touch. The thick chain was connected by a single large hoop of a slightly cooler silver, which was engraved lightly with patterns and swirls. It was stunning, magnetising, and upon looking at it, it immediately reminded you of a certain someone.

“Wow,” you said, unable to stop your words from flowing. “This would look beautiful on Jimin…”

Ignoring Seokjin’s look of surprise, you turned to Shownu and gestured sheepishly. You expected this to be out of the price range for the trade, but figured you may as well ask. “Would this be too much…?”

Snapping out of his stupor with a strange glint in his eye and an amused curl to his tone, Seokjin relayed your question to the jeweller. Shownu instantly shook his head, offering you a smile. You weren’t sure of the answer he gave you until the Kelkie by you translated once again.

“No, he says that meets it perfectly.”

Shownu hurried to come and grab it for you, holding it gingerly as he came to place it into a small, cushioned case made of a stone that, oddly-enough, reminded you of some sort of jade. Surprised that everything was coming together so easily for you, you couldn’t stop the big dumb grin from tugging your lips.

“You know, with a gift like that, one might get the wrong idea,” Seokjin was teasing you, you knew it, but still you couldn’t help but rise to the bait.

“What wrong idea? I’m clearly trying to woo him!” you shot back, your response eliciting a cackle from the tall Kelkie. Shownu spared the two of you a fond smile as he finished tucking away the necklace, pushing it towards you in its closed case and saying something to Seokjin.

The male brightened, turning to you with a grin as you took the case into your hold, relishing the comforting weight. “Well, that will have to wait for now, cheeky human. You have a… a belly… bellybottom to pierce.”

You burst into laughter at Seokjin’s slip up, hastily going to correct him as Shownu led the two of you to a room towards the back that you hadn’t even noticed until then. The male’s cheeks heated but he took the embarrassment graciously, laughing with you as you continued snorting and prepared for the piercing.

You definitely weren’t letting go of that one any time soon.

x x x x x x x

As you’d expected, your return to the palace had brought on a certain sense of emptiness after experiencing what was beyond the walls. It had been a few days now, and although you wanted to get out you hadn’t really wanted to venture into town without an escort when you had no money and couldn’t speak the language. So to settle somewhat, you’d slipped past poor Jongin and Jongdae again and snuck to a certain part of the gardens you’d discovered a while ago. You really ought to make them something for their troubles—you were sure their life was much more stress-free before you rocked up.

You liked this little spot; it was nestled in one of the corners of the garden that followed the wall by the back of the palace, not too far from the kitchens now that you actually thought about it. Perhaps that added to the charm. Even so, without taking its alluring closeness to a food source into consideration, the spot had its own charms. The corner itself consisted of thick hedges with deep blue leaves and stunning magenta and cream flowers, the obsidian wall that marked the end of palace property looming close behind it. The earth was soft and plush beneath your feet, soil rich and no doubt part of the reason the main tree that had grown there had grown to be so tall and thick in diameter. The wood was peculiar, in that it was incredibly supple yet completely sturdy at the same time, and it grew in curls and curves. This meant that it was an absolutely ideal tree for climbing, but you didn’t quite have the energy for that today. You were a bit bummed, and it wasn’t entirely because you missed the town.

You had a feeling Jimin was avoiding you again.

Well, either that or he was so ridiculously busy that he had no time for anything but sleeping eating and work. You’d been trying to track him and chase him down for days to give him the present you got for him at Shownu’s shop, but to his credit he was very hard to track. You pulled out all the stops you could think of and yet here you were, no closer to catching him and instead sulking about your failure beneath a tree as you laid sprawled across the ground. You probably looked as pathetic as you felt.

You let out a sigh, patting your stomach absent-mindedly and brushing your finger over the slight bump beneath the silky material of your shirt. You’d gotten the piercing expecting to get a lot of pain and limiting instructions afterwards, but to your complete and utter surprise it was quite the opposite. After piercing you, Shownu had cleansed the site with a teal-coloured liquid that shimmered green beneath the light. It stung for the barest of moments before every single sensation of pain disappeared completely. You felt the flesh tingle and watched, wide-eyed, as it appeared to heal before your eyes. Kelkie medicine was truly something else, and you were forever thankful that you’d crash landed on this planet of all possible planets.

Shownu had simply told you to be extra mindful of it for the next week but that after that, it would be completely fine. The mixture he used sped up the healing process almost entirely, something you could barely wrap your head around, and meant that you didn’t have to face a lot of the possible complications you knew could come with these sorts of things. You’d thanked him profusely, immensely pleased with how good the piercing looked, especially with the jewellery you’d chosen, and had made sure Seokjin told him how much you liked it and appreciated it. Seeing how pleased Shownu was at your words made Seokjin’s sassy eyerolls worth it.

Back to the source of your current lamentation, you’d left the parlour with a new piercing and a pretty necklace in a jade giftbox—a necklace you had still been unable to give to the person it was meant for.

Another sigh escaped you, eyes staring absently into the foliage above. Ah, nothing like becoming one with nature and disassociating as you attempted to sort through your thoughts and feelings. A classic move in your emotional organisation repertoire.

You’d come here for solitude, but despite that… you were actually feeling a bit lonely. Was it possible to want to be alone and around people at the same time? Because you were feeling that. Perhaps it was the slightly bummed turn your thoughts had taken that had you feeling this way. You closed your eyes, trying to clear your mind and start again so you felt less crummy. You didn’t get very far before something interrupted your concentration and scared you shitless.

“Connecting to a higher power, are we?”

You yelped loudly, eyes flying open and body lurching away from the source of the noise— a snickering Min Yoongi of course. You glared at the offending male, tempted to roll away and turn your back to him like a child.

“And what if I am?” you ask snidely, crossing your arms. “Shouldn’t you leave—I thought they didn’t allow creatures of the night into holy places, you little gremlin.”

Yoongi cackled at that, thoroughly amused, and took the invitation you most definitely didn’t give to sit beside you, leaning back against the thick trunk of the tree. Still, despite what the pout on your face might have him believe, you shuffled over to give him more room. The two of you sat in comfortable, amicable silence as his chuckles gradually calmed down, soaking in the serenity that came with such a beautiful segment of nature like the one that surrounded you now.

“So,” he began after a while, voice low above you. You didn’t bother looking to meet his eyes, it would have been too much of a struggle with the angle you were at. “What’s got you all mopey, peach cheeks?”

You groaned, fighting the urge to smack the male as he snickered softly at your expense. Yoongi looked cool and chic at first glance, but really that was just a front and he was just a goblin. Pouty whiny baby. He was fun to tease but a little too good at teasing you back, if anyone asked you. Well… perhaps that was a bit of a fib. You liked the playful banter he provided, and the fact he gave it back as good as he got. Kept you on your toes, you know?

“My prospective alien boyfriend is avoiding me,” you said, amping up the exaggeration colouring your tone because you knew he’d appreciate the humour in it. He did, letting out a snort.

“What’s new?” he snipped, before letting out a yelp as you smacked him on the thigh closest to you. “Ow! Alright sorry I didn’t mean it. Why is he avoiding you?”

“I don’t knooooooooooow,” you moaned pitifully, thrashing your arms a little like a toddler. “I’m just trying to give him this damn present I got him but he keeps turning tail and running every time he sees me, and I don’t even know if his cheeks are red because he’s blushing or because he’s exhausted from running away from me.”

You risked a glance upwards, and to his credit, Yoongi looked like he was trying very hard to contain the laughter attempting to climb his throat.

“What did you get him?” he asked after schooling himself a little, seemingly unable to contain his curiosity. You huffed, averting your eyes as you mumbled your answer.

“… a necklace.”

As expected, Yoongi let out a snort; it was as though you could feel him rolling his eyes. “Geez, careful y/n, give him a gift like that and he might think you like him or something.”

You sent him your best deadpan look, contorting your neck just to pin him with it face-on. He seemed entirely too amused with himself and it kind of really made you want to smack him. You didn’t even need to respond—you were pretty sure that not only Jimin but probably half the palace knew that you liked him by now. You blanched mentally for a moment—you hadn’t really realised it until now, but somewhere along the line in your stay here you’d progressed from simply finding Jimin attractive and voicing it to actually… liking him. Like, like-liking him. Oh god, was this a crush? Your stomach fluttered at the mere mention of his name, your heart jumped whenever he looked your way—you’d even gone and bought him jewellery without so much as a second thought.

Oh, this…. You were whipped.

Choosing to ignore that startling revelation for a moment, you released your neck from its twisted position and returned to staring mournfully at the foliage above you.

“Not that it matters, anyway,” you couldn’t help the sigh that huffed past your lips. “I can’t even find him to give him the damn thing in the first place.”

At this, Yoongi was silent for a few moments—you took the opportunity to bask in the moment a bit, taking note of the different sounds of nature that filtered through the air to brush your ears. Soft chirps from the small, violet-feathered, birdlike creatures that nested in the nooks and niches hidden in the curling wood of the tree’s branches and trunk; the faint rustling of the leaves and the soft creak of the thick, winding limbs as they swayed with the breeze. The patches of sunlight that managed to reach your form beneath the canopy were warm as they soaked your skin, but thankfully not unbearably so in such small doses. You didn’t doubt that if you weren’t mostly under the shade you’d feel like an overcooked meal by now, though.

“Well…” The sound of the male’s slow drawl brought your attention back to the conversation at hand as he began to speak, “Who says you have to give it to him in person? You could always leave it somewhere for him.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s the coward’s way out,” you grumbled, crossing one leg over the other to match your arms. “How would he know it’s from me?”

Snorting at your apparent view on gift-giving and how it should be done, Yoongi leans over to peer at you, albeit upside down. “Uh, leave a note? I’m sorry, I forgot you lost most of your brain cells when you crashed here. I’ll try and be a little bit more considerate.”

Whining, you smacked him on the leg—apparently the response he was expecting since he burst into laughter as soon as you did it.

“Okay yeah, you’re not wrong about that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t write or even read k-kelk—kelkoe? Whatever it is people speak here.”

You peered back in time to catch Yoongi’s nonchalant shrug. “Namjoon knows a little, why not just ask him to help?”

You opened your mouth to protest but the words died on your tongue as you allowed yourself to consider it for a moment. That… wasn’t such a bad idea, actually. Plus, Namjoon might tease you a little but at least he wouldn’t be a little gremlin about it like Yoongi or Taehyung.

“… Alright, perhaps that’s not a bad idea…” you admitted, begrudgingly. Yoongi’s featured brightened and you were witness to a sudden shit-eating, gummy grin.

“Admit it, I’m a genius,” he boasted, leaning over you to stare at you smugly. You groaned but couldn’t keep the laugh that followed from escaping.

“Never!” you refuted, reaching to smack his thigh once more. “Stay humble, if your head gets too big the few brain cells you have will get lost.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, rubbing his thigh where you got him; it wasn’t a hard hit at all but you managed to get him in one of the areas where the sensation lingered a bit. “Oh, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

A retort already bubbling up your throat, you sat up so you could argue a bit better. Yoongi resembled a smug cat as the two of you bickered, unaware of the eyes that watched from beyond the shrubbery, boring into you from one of the palace rooms that peered over the gardens.

x x x x x

Jimin shouldn’t be as angry as he was.

Really, he had no right. There was nothing tying him to you, or you to him—nothing that staked any sort of claim over you on his behalf. Based on this, even if he found you attractive, he should not have been feeling what he did, to the degree that he did.

Catching sight of you and one of the humans from the Queen’s crew, Yoongi, wasn’t something he had expected to spark a raging inferno of emotions within him. And yet, the second he glimpsed the scene in the far corner of the gardens, he’d been almost over-encumbered with too many feelings to name; yet one in particular was sure to rear its head and make itself known.

Jimin refused to accept that the sight of you with Yoongi had made him jealous.

Ridiculous, it was ridiculous. Ever since you’d arrived here everything had been out of whack for him—nothing had gone as it should, as it was expected, as it always had for years before your arrival. You were a threat to the knowledge he thought he had of his world and way of life—the knowledge he thought he had of himself. Jimin knew that in years past he had proven himself to be a Kelkie of exceptional control, yet the second you drew too close to him, the second your eyes met his or your alluring scent brushed his nose, he felt the limbs hidden in his back stirring to life and fighting to be free like he was some inexperienced fledgling. With your presence in the palace he was living on his toes, and the only way he’d managed to save face thus far was because he’d taken to doing his best to avoid you—something that while achieved its purpose had him feeling bittersweet. Despite the barest relief he felt, he actually found that he missed you. He couldn’t believe the audacity of his heart that it longed for you even after all the trouble you’d given him so far.

At first he had tried avoiding you simply to save himself from acting in an embarrassing manner, but lately it had been for a somewhat different reason. He could sense it lingering in the air that you moved through, could catch the new sweet undertone to your scent as it touched his senses—he didn’t know much about the human cycle apart from what the Queen had once told him, but he could tell—was acutely aware— that you were at the peak of yours. You had been close a few days ago, and he had no doubt that today you were at the height of your fertility; and he hated that he knew that, that he was so finely attuned to you in a way he never had been to anyone else. The pheromones you didn’t even seem to realise you were emitting permeated the air wherever you ventured, and shamefully even the sight of you through the window had a knot of longing forming in the pit of his abdomen. It was even more out of hand than usual with the state your body was in and he didn’t think he would last very long at all if stuck in the same room as you.

Which, incidentally, is exactly what he would be tonight.

The kitchen staff had thrown together a mock-up run of the dishes and foods that they were considering for the celebration coming, and Seokjin had insisted that everyone gather at once to try them—although he hadn’t gotten around to telling everyone yet. Jimin suspected that the male missed the nights where everyone would dine together, including the King and Queen. Knowing that, he hadn’t had the heart to refuse him, even when he realised this meant he would be stuck dining a few feet away from the human that had been troubling him so much lately.

Truly, he was at war with himself—he enjoyed your presence, more than expected, but he was also incredibly conflicted. He wasn’t against having fun and the odd passionate tryst, but with you… it felt like he longed for more than that. Which, frankly, alarmed him greatly—the only person he should be feeling that way towards is his Fated One. So, what would happen if he indulged himself in you and then in the next sweep received his Fate Mark and with it the person he was to spend the rest of his life with? Would he want them? Would he want you? The prospect of such a situation was absolutely terrifying to him, and he didn’t know how to sort through the mess of emotions and thoughts it spawned within him.

He didn’t know what to do with the way you made him feel, yet each time he saw you he grew a little weaker in his resistance to you. Why was it that the heavens had decided to curse him so?

His footsteps were a little heavier than usual as he stomped down the hall that housed his rooms, eager for a moment of reprieve before he had to start preparing himself mentally for dinner. It had been only this morning that he caught sight of you and Yoongi in the gardens, yet the mood it had thrown him into had persisted for the rest of the day as he did his duties. The ugly, icky feeling it incurred within him had clung to his insides ever since—Jimin never had liked the sensation of jealousy, the few times he’d experienced it in his life, and the same proved true now. He hated it, yet could not stop its presence at the thought of you with someone else. He shouldn’t be bothered—you were human, shouldn’t he be pleased at the prospect of you being with another human? Yet his heart clenched painfully in protest at the thought, stomach dropping. Against his better judgement, he didn’t like the idea at all.

He felt a momentary sensation of calm and relaxation wash over him as he stepped through the doorway into his room, shoulders releasing the tension they carried along the walk there. The sensation proved to be fleeting as he recalled suddenly that Yoongi would be at the dinner along with you and the other humans, and suddenly he was tense and stressed all over again. A large sigh huffed past his lips, eyes closing as he scrubbed a hand over his face and pushed his hair back a little. God, he kind of wanted to nap if only to escape the stress for a few moments.

Allowing his eyes to slide open, he surveyed the contents of his room, attempting to avoid the area with his bed lest he be tempted. Surprise filtered across his features as he caught sight of something amiss, something new that he certainly hadn’t left on his desk before leaving earlier. Curious and apprehensive all at once, he approached the soft green box with what appeared to be a note tucked neatly beneath it. Tentatively, he took the box into his hands, the stone cool to the touch and decently heavy, and retrieved the note. He was never sure whether to read or open things first, but this time he opted to inspect the paper.

He wasn’t sure what he had expected when he opened it, but it hadn’t been a note written in messy scrawl that looked like it belonged to a fledgling. It was in his language, but he had a suspicion that the person writing it wasn’t exactly familiar with it. Still, he read it, and with each word he took in he felt surprise tickle his ribs and his heart stutter excitedly. The person had forgotten to sign their name but even without it Jimin had a strong suspicion as to who had left him this gift.

Unable to stop himself from opening the box now that he knew it was indeed a gift for him, he placed the note down and took great care in lifting the lid. Inside, sitting neatly upon plush cushioning that worked well to contrast with the metal of the piece it held, was a necklace. He felt his lips part as he took it in, slightly mesmerised, fingers of his free hand brushing gently over the silver and black chain and the large hoop that connected it. Even without the knowledge that it was a gift, most likely from a certain someone, he instantly liked it. It was just his style, and the fact that they’d known…

He placed the box down, moving the hand over his heart as he felt it skip a beat once more. Once more, it seemed you were proving to be more trouble than he was capable of handling.

What on Kilkhea was he going to do?

x x x x x x x

When Seokjin had told you that there would be a small feast of sorts tonight and that pretty much everyone you knew would be attending, you hadn’t bothered attempting to hide your excitement at all. It had everything you loved. Food? Check. Your friends? Check. A fun family atmosphere? Check. Food? Check, check. You were almost bouncing off the walls before Taehyung laughed at you for it and you had to track him down to teach him a lesson. Seokjin had said that the food being served was all trials for the celebration that was coming, and that meant that given your food was normally good quality, this food was likely to be god-tier. You were almost drooling you were so damn excited.

Your renewed energy at the knowledge you were going to be fed well tonight meant that you were a little bit more unbearable than usual as you hung around the other humans, and by the time dinner actually rolled around you were sure Hoseok was ready to actually lay hands on you and choke you out. It was a recent development, since he’d actually joined you in your hyperactivity initially. You’d ended up outlasting him with your energy though, something that Namjoon, Yoongi and Taehyung found incredibly hilarious, and as soon as he was no longer in on your shenanigans he seemed to grow tired of them very quickly. As you all entered the small dining room where you’d be eating tonight you saw him beeline for the seat furthest away from you and couldn’t help but laugh. Did he think that would stop you? He really didn’t give you enough credit.

To your delight, even the guards you’d become so friendly with—Jongdae and Jongin as you recalled—had been allowed to sit in. The look they’d shared when they caught sight of you almost had you in stitches—especially since they were still under orders from Jimin to be keeping an eye on you and you’d slipped out of their watch earlier in the morning to spend the rest of the day free.

“Aren’t you two meant to be watching her?” Joy asked, having arrived at the same time they did and bearing witness to the fact it was without you in tow. She was more amused than anything, knowing firsthand how crafty you were, but still the two of them sputtered for an excuse.

“She—she is just so slippery!” Jongin burst, eyes wide and marks flaring a sheepish peach. “Every time we think she will cooperate, we turn our backs for a single second and when we look back she is gone!”

“And she tricks us,” Jongdae’s voice came out in a whine, pointing his finger at you accusingly. You smiled at him. “She leaves sweets and treats to distract us and escapes in our moment of weakness.”

You couldn’t hide your big, shit-eating grin because honestly you found the whole thing really funny—despite the fact you felt a little bad for deceiving them—and were having a riot listening to them talk.

“They’re gifts,” you said, no effort at all put towards sounding even remotely convincing. “Sometimes you look hungry so I leave things for you to eat, like a good friend.”

The two guards sputtered and you could hear Taehyung choking on a laugh behind you, snickering to Namjoon. Joy rolled her eyes, an affectionate smile tugging her lips, before she stepped in and urged everyone to take a seat since the food would be coming soon.

It didn’t take you long to notice that Seokjin and Jimin hadn’t arrived yet—oh the shock of excitement that bolted through you when you realised you’d finally see him—but almost as soon as you took note of that there were two familiar figures entering through the double doors and Taehyung was cheering.

“Yes! Just in time for the food to arrive—hurry and sit down we’re all hungry!”

You laughed, Yoongi snickering softly from beside you. Taehyung seemed to be right; as soon as Jimin and Seokjin entered from one door the kitchen staff entered from the other. The two hurried and took their seats, Seokjin across from you and Jimin next to him. You tried not to stare, you really did, but he just looked so good and it had been so long since you’d seen him—you kind of wanted to sob at how attractive he was. He’d donned a deep, deep purple set of silken clothes today, and when combined with his raven hair, the dangly silver earrings hanging from his lobes, the chains around his wrists and the rings sitting firmly and contrasting against golden skin on his fingers… it was a knockout look. Unable to help it, your gaze strayed momentarily to his neck on a curious whim—you wished the spike of disappointment within you wasn’t quite as prominent as it was. He wasn’t wearing it… that was fine. You hadn’t expected him to, really. Perhaps he just hadn’t gone to his room yet—

No, it was better if you didn’t think too hard about it. It was out of your hands now, you’d done your part in leaving it for him. What he did with it… technically didn’t concern you. You ignored the slight throb your heart gave and turned to the plates being placed along the table.

As the food was served there was inevitable chatter that followed, and you were surprisingly caught up with laughing at Seokjin and Yoongi, and occasionally Jongin, who was unfortunate enough to be seated on your other side and kept getting startled into dropping his food whenever you moved too quickly. Had you really traumatised them so much with your fleeing escapades?

Your natural inclination was to look at Jimin for the duration of the dinner, and you did look at him a fair bit, but for some reason tonight felt… different. It didn’t take long for you to notice that he was sitting stiffly in his seat, entire body tense, and each chew was accented with a clenched jaw that honestly had your stupid heart skipping a beat. Fuck, he was even hotter than usual. The nerve? The audacity? Right here in front of your… what was that on your plate, it looked to be a salad of sorts…?

Despite how your gaze was naturally drawn to the raven-haired male, every time you glanced towards him your attention was quickly drawn away by Yoongi or one of the others. And the second you turned from him, you could have sworn you felt eyes boring into your form with alarming intensity. You didn’t ever catch him, he was always looking back to his plate or at someone else when you turned back, but the butterflies in your stomach and your gut feeling told you that the stare belonged to him. The thought excited you, but you were also confused. His usual response to your presence was fluster and embarrassment, sometimes he was even a little grumpy. You didn’t know what changed, but something had, and you were eager to poke and prod and find out exactly what had caused his behaviour to shift ever so slightly.

You felt the stare intensify whenever you leant closer to Yoongi, or the guard beside you. The more you experimented throughout dinner, the tenser Jimin seemed to become. You caught Seokjin shooting him looks that seemed to be a combination of concerned, knowing and amused, but he never voiced his concern out loud. He cracked a few jokes that had Jimin’s lips twitching into a slight smile at several points throughout the meal, but his features consistently fell back into their tense default.

By the time the meal was over and people began cleaning dishes up and filtering out of the room, you were absolutely itching to pounce on Jimin and resume your usual antics of annoying and flustering the hell out of him. You hadn’t seen him in a while, so the urge had built up and you were keen to make up for lost time. A part of you protested softly, the same part that stung a little more at each little sign of rejection he seemed to display, but it was easily silenced

You had a feeling that Jimin was going to try and make a run for it, and your suspicions were confirmed when not even a minute after he helped stack the plates nearest him, he was standing from his chair and bowing slightly to the table.

“Thank you very much for the meal,” he directed this to the staff, offering those that had come over a soft smile. You cursed the small morsel of jealousy that wormed its way into existence at that. “I think this line-up will work well for the event. Perhaps one or two more fruit dishes? They seem to be a favourite.”

The staff nodded eagerly, taking in his advice, and he offered them another smile before he turned on his heel and uttered that he was going to retire for the night. You could see how tensed the muscles in his back were as he walked away, posture stiff and straight. By the time you realised he was about to get away and you launched from your seat, he was already moving through the doorway. You had to act fast!

“Thank you for the meal, it was delicious—as usual!” you burst, grinning widely. The kitchen staff, well-acquainted with you by now, rolled their eyes fondly at your next words. “I will give you a full written report of my thoughts and bring it later, thank you!”

With that you ruffled Jongin and Yoongi’s hair, and then you bolted from the table, only nearly tripping once. You could hear Seokjin cracking a joke at your expense as you left but for once, ignored it. It pained you to do so, but you had a bigger objective in mind right now.

Quicker on your feet than you anticipated, you zipped through the open doorway and burst into the darkened hallway just in time to catch sight of Jimin while he was still barely visible. The lights hadn’t turned on in this hall yet, and you made sure to watch a little where you were going so that you didn’t fall flat on your face in front of your apparent crush.

You were certain he heard you coming, but just in case he didn’t you decided to announce your presence very loudly. “Jimin! Wait up, peach cheeks!”

Visibility wasn’t great in the hallway, yet you still managed to catch it as the male stiffened and halted for a moment, apparently surprised. Perhaps he hadn’t heard you coming?

When the male turned to face you, you felt your heart stutter before skipping several beats and setting off a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. His jaw was clenched once more, muscles along his throat shifting as he turned his head, and his marks glowed deep rosy red—but what had your knees wobbling slightly as you ran up to him was his eyes, dark and molten and absolutely boring into you from where he stood. His tongue darted to wet his lips before he spoke, a motion you couldn’t help but trace with your eyes.

“Do you need something, pesky human?” he inquired without any real bite, and you hated that even a nickname as dumb as that had your heart leaping when paired with the velvet tone of his voice. God, you’d really starved in the days he hadn’t been around, huh.

“Absolutely,” you answered, face straight save for the twitch of your lips. “It’s something you can help me with, actually.”

Jimin tilted his head, lids lowering ever so slightly as he held your gaze. You nearly stuttered at the way it made your stomach dip. “Oh? And what is that?”

“I’m very desperately in need.” You stepped closer, just barely noticing him stiffen further. You felt your grin spread across your features, unable to contain it any longer as you leant forward, barely a foot from his face, and poked his side softly. You felt a little bit of shame at what you were about to say but pushed it away—go big or go home. “Very desperately in need of you, Mr Jimin.”

There was a beat of silence as the kelkie registered what you said, before shifted into a reaction. Except, it wasn’t anything like the pink-cheeked flustered reaction you expected.

You had barely a moment to catch the shift in his gaze, the smoulder of new fire behind his eyes, before he was stepping forward suddenly, his hands moving so fast you almost didn’t see where they went until you felt them grip your hips. A gasp escaped you as you were moved backwards quicker than you could keep up with and your back pressed to cool stone, Jimin’s front pressed against your own. Your heart leapt into action, thudding unevenly against your ribcage as you stared at him with wide, shell-shocked eyes. Fuck. Fuck what the fuck—

“You need me?” his voice was low and raspy yet still ran against your ears like rich velvet. Your stomach dipped, arousal lighting your veins on fire. His hands gripped your hips tightly, one shifting up to grasp your waist; you curved into him instinctively. “You shouldn’t say such things so carelessly.”

Your heart was racing and your mouth was open in shock—you had no idea how to even begin processing what was happening, but he didn’t wait for your mind to catch up. His fingers dug into your supple flesh enough that the slight ache melted into pleasure and had a whine building in your throat—a whine that shifted into a squeak as he pressed you further into the wall and rolled his hips against yours, sending molten desire shooting along your spine and throbbing at your core. Your pulse was out of control at this point, and you could barely catch sight of his features in the darkness.

His thumb brushed up, pressing into the flesh over your ribs through the shirt and nearing dangerously close to the underside of your breast; you felt your breath catch in your throat. It was as though your mind was filled with nothing but static and acute awareness of just how close he was, brain unable to track anything else.

“You shouldn’t push so hard, little human, I’m not sure you’d like the end result,” his voice grew lower, tone laced with such promise that it had a shiver rolling down your spine. He leant closer, full lips brushing your cheek before they moved to your ear. You felt something foreign brush against your leg, dragging up the side of your thigh before brushing the skin where your shirt had ridden up. You jerked at the slick sensation, a gasp tearing from your lips. Jimin’s voice returned, lips tickling your ear as he spoke and making your knees weak.

“You are not the only one that can play, petal.”

And then just like that he was gone, cool air greeting you in the absence of his touch, and your mind was left reeling in its attempts to catch up. Flabbergasted, with your cheeks unbearably hot and legs wobbly, you just barely caught it as he disappeared into the shadows down the hall, the darkness shifting oddly behind him. A heartbeat later and he was gone from sight completely, and you were alone in the hall with a racing heart and your skin still tingling from the remnants of his touch.

What. What…

What the fuck just happened?

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::[ please lmk what you think! & pls consider buying me a kofi if you’d like to support me in some way! <3 ]::

#jimin x reader #jimin fic #jimin series #jimin scenario #jimin smut #jimin x oc #alien jimin x reader #alien jimin x oc #tentacledipity #future smut #jimin au #bts au #bts fic #park jimin x reader #soulmate au #wanted au #fluff #my work #bts smut

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atcostmag · 4 years

Text

Tiggy Valen on Writing Songs While Growing Up with No Fixed Address

Though she’s moved places every two years since the age of thirteen, Tiggy Valen finds that home where the heart is. Now based in New York, a rather fitting place for the cosmopolitan soul, the California, Bay Area singer speaks on her unusual upbringing as the daughter of a diplomat. Soft and breezy, her songs with their ethereal glow reflect a nostalgic air; a pre-determined longing and melancholic saudade resulting from living a nomad’s life.

Words: Peter Quincy Ng

You're a former cellist and opera singer and now a singer-songwriter. Your music now is very different from your music then. What inspired the paradigm shift?

I was raised on all sorts of music growing up! Singing in choir and playing piano and cello gave me an appreciation for classical styles early on, but when I listen to music for fun or with friends it’s mostly been contemporary stuff: pop, rock, hip hop, you name it. The first two songs on my iPod Nano in the early 2000′s were “Unwritten” by Natasha Bedingfield and “Bohemian Rhapsody”- Still classics! I’ve always sought out good music regardless of genre or style, so as I’ve started to produce myself I try to pull elements from all over the map. I don’t really have one “North Star,” which is probably why my music seems different than what one might expect. That being said, I still love a good string arrangement and focus a lot on stacking vocal harmonies so there are definitely still elements of my past life in my new music!

The title of your upcoming EP is called "Diplomat's Daughter". How has living abroad changed your perspective of the world and how has living in a different cultural environment shaped your artistic perspective?

I think people who are consistently pushing the boundaries of their comfort zone and spending a lot of time in other cultures are often some of the best at self awareness and empathy. I’m definitely not perfect at that, but the ability I’ve had over the years to live in so many different environments has bred in me a continuous mindset of self-reflection and desire to learn from and listen to others. That constant looking in vs. looking out may seem contradictory, but in a strange way I think operating under the assumption that you have something to learn from everyone you interact with helps you learn a lot more about yourself as well as the world.

So far that’s also been a big part of discovering myself as an artist — to find your sound and songwriting style you have to go through the same sort of self-reflection and learning-through-others process. It may sound simple, but for me creativity sits at the nexus of experiencing something and having tools to process how that makes me feel. In that sense, it’s not particularly surprising that each song on my EP is focused on a different place I’ve lived; those collective experiences have shaped me most so far in life. With each song, I’ve reflected on my time in a certain place, processed how it made me feel, and built the music and lyrics around those feelings. As strange as it sounds, it’s sort of been like creating a world for my memories of each place to live in.

You mention that your father served in Afghanistan and Pakistan during some very trying times. What have you learned from your parents' experiences? Though they may not have been musicians themselves, what are some words of wisdom they offered to you in the face of obstacles and challenges?

I look up to my parents in so many ways, but especially in the way they both seek out and deal with challenges. They rarely champion taking the easy route — my siblings and I have always been taught to face obstacles head on, and that conquering those (or at least trying to) is the best way to build character and resilience. They’ve also instilled in us the mindset of “whatever you’re going through, someone is dealing with something worse.” Not in a way that’s meant to belittle our feelings, but I think it adds necessary perspective in life. I’m super grateful for that.

The name of your current single is titled "Dear California," and your previous single "Two Year Stand". The former speaks of your home state and the latter speaks of moving to another country every two years since the age of thirteen. What makes you feel at home and what is something you've learned not to take for granted living with no fixed address?

That’s a great question! Every time someone asks me where I’m from, I really have to pause and think about how I should answer. Most people regret asking if I launch into the whole story, but saying just one place also feels incomplete. Tough dilemma for a very basic question! Home for me really centers around people and memories. One smell in California can make me feel like I never left. A taste of authentic Thai food makes me feel like Bangkok is home again. Catching up with high school or college friends reminds me of how at-home I felt in school. Living in New York City has also taught me that you don’t have to have lived in a place your whole life to be able to call it home — not many people in NYC are true born and bred “New Yorkers” but it’s very much their home too. If you associate enough with a place and experience it beyond being an occasional tourist, it’s not a stretch to call it home.

In terms of what not to take for granted: roots, history, consistency! I’m always a little envious of the people whose families have lived in one place for generations. I try to play catch up in getting to know a place as much as I can whenever we move, but it’s no substitute for the history of having your and your family’s identity wrapped up in one place.

A deep, ethereal suspension of dreamy saturation, “Two Year Stand” with its divergent lift floats into a spiral of dreamy dysphoria as it closes with its contemplating monologues

Tiggy · Two Year Stand

Like most artists, your music speaks of relationships. How has distance shaped the meaning of friends, family and lovers?

Distance definitely makes me try and work harder at my friendships and relationships. It takes a lot of effort to stay in touch. Despite how easy it is to send someone a text these days, I think a lot of people are hesitant to do so unless it’s someone they really care about because it’s like “what’s the point?” if you’re not physically together. In my mind, distance has never seemed like a major barrier to keeping a friendship or relationship given how used to it I am. I hate the thought of losing a friend and the memories you shared, but I can also understand the people who feel like the effort isn’t always worth it to hang onto something of the past. It sort of comes down to your tolerance for sharing memories and experiences virtually. Personally, I’m a super nostalgic person so I could sustain a distance friendship with someone for years just based on recounting the memories we shared when we were physically together. But I get those who need more than that to keep something going. It’s a two way street though so I think both people have to fall in the former category to make it work. I guess I just try and hang on as tight as possible to the people who feel the same way!

You know, you're a bit of a diplomat yourself. After all, they say music is the universal language. What do you hope listeners get out of your music?

It truly is! I listen to music in languages I don’t speak all the time and it still conjures feelings. I guess that’s what I really hope for my music — that it can spur emotion, memories, and personal experiences for people in different ways. While all my music is personal to me, I think it has the potential for a lot of people to relate to it even just based on people who’ve reached out to me about it so far. Transience, growth, and optimism are main themes in my music, and I think a lot people are well acquainted with those things!

Soft and beachy with its wash of sustaining textures, Tiggy’s breezy comb of vocals embraces with its reassuring coax on “Dear California,”

Tiggy · Dear California,

#tiggy valen #music #interviews

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junqkook · 6 years

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— INTO THE WOODS, 1: THE GROVE (m.)

— notes; i hate that i have to say this, but STOP REPOSTING AND/OR RE-IMAGINING THIS AU AS YOUR OWN. THAT IS STILL PLAGIARISM.

pairing; jungkook/reader genre; goblin au, smut, e2l rating; explicit words; 6,790

— synopsis; getting hurt and stumbling upon a goblin in the forest leaves you completely at his mercy, though you aren’t sure if that’s necessarily a bad thing.

contents; goblin!jungkook, e2l themes, cheating implication, rough sex, unprotected sex (stay safe!), clothed sex, creampie, marking, possessiveness, oral (f and m receiving), dirty talk, multiple orgasms.

— chapters; the grove (01) | the thicket (02) | the nest (03)

“This is just great,” you muttered to yourself, shivering slightly from the chill in the air as you stomped through the grass. The forestry around you was so thick it was damn near impossible to even begin to think of a way out. Not to mention that the sun was setting and you’d already been walking around aimlessly for hours.

You were usually fine with the forest, never venturing in too far for fear of the beasts it held within, hidden away from your human eyes. Your village spoke of them in harsh whispers, your schools educating the young about the goblins, beware the goblins lest they steal you away.

But the herb your mother needed was hard to find, hidden in the undergrowth, and you had inched further and further inside the forest until you were no longer sure how to get out, a handful of herbs clenched in your fist. Night was quickly approaching and every hushed sound had you on edge, hair rising and goosebumps raising on your skin.

You circled around as you passed a tree, foot catching in the roots poking out of the grass and you collapsed in a heap on the ground, yelping as you went down. The plants near the tree trunk muffled your groan and you spit them out as you tried to get to your feet, ankle throbbing and shirt torn at the elbow where it scratched against the bark of the tree.

Your tongue felt heavy as you pushed yourself to your knees, turning and blinking rapidly as you cradled your knees to your chest, wincing at the sharp pain in your ankle. The inside of your mouth felt odd—there was a sharp tingling sensation building on your tongue and the insides of your cheeks.

You got to your feet using the trunk as support and attempted to set your weight down evenly. You hissed when sparks of pain shot up your calf and you kept most of your weight on the uninjured limb. Limping forward didn’t seem like a fruitful option, but you refused to give up hope on finding your way out of the forest—you would get out, get home, and go on with your merry life.

It was only a few feet away where you attempted to cross over a fallen tree trunk, huge and littered with moss. It was so thick it almost rested at your full height on its side and you used your arms to pull yourself up. It was much harder than you’d anticipated, your vision blurring for a moment and your breaths coming heavy. Your arms were trembling and you whimpered as you maneuvered your feet to the top of the trunk, where you sat to gather yourself before climbing down—it was definitely going to be painful, as there was no other way but to land on your feet lest you wanted to sustain another injury.

You swayed as you turned to the other side of the tree trunk, unsteady even while seated. You rubbed at your eyes, the tingling sensation spreading to your throat. Your limbs felt heavy as you tried to move, but your hand slipped and you pitched forward, eyes closing and surrounded by black before you even hit the ground.

Everything ached.

That was your first thought upon gaining consciousness. You were swaying gently, something warm wrapped around your body. You buried your face into it and groaned, whatever it was tightening around you.

“Hold still, little human, we’re almost there,” something murmured.

You tried to open your eyes, but they wouldn’t budge. Your arm dangled in the air and you foggily realized that you were being carried by someone. Your whole body refused to do as you wanted, panic settling in your stomach from the paralysis. Your throat felt constricted, not enough air making its way into your windpipe.

Finally, finally, you were set down on the ground. Your body didn’t move, limp wherever the person had placed you. Panic seized you again, gripping tight as you tried to push through the haziness that had a hold on your brain.

Fingers prodded at your mouth, pushing your lips apart gently. Your heart was thudding loudly in your chest and you were sure that he could hear it as you felt the heat of his body tower over yours. Lips pressed against yours, parted similarly, and then a tongue licked into your mouth. You wanted to recoil, open your eyes and see who it was that had carried you away and was now kissing you. The movement of his tongue against yours continued for a few moments and your lips began to throb as he pushed harder against them.

He pulled back slowly and whispered, “Swallow.”

Without thinking, you did as he said and relief was almost instantaneous. Your mouth no longer felt as though a fire had been lit inside of it, the relief spreading to your constricted throat until it felt normal, only a dull ache in its place.

He pressed his mouth against yours again, gentler this time, nipping at your lips and swiping his tongue across them. Your eyes fluttered open and met brown ones, the man staring right at you as his mouth worked against yours. Your fingers twitched and you made a muffled sound, prompting him to push himself away from you.

You struggled to sit up, the man offering no help, but you finally managed to prop yourself up, hissing at the tendrils of pain shooting from your ankle. You turned to look at the man crouching beside you, his face impassive. He looked exactly as a human would, but you knew better—you checked his ears, which were elongated back and curved at the tips, fading from a pale skin tone to a light green at the points.

“Goblin,” you whispered, lips trembling. Your voice came out hoarse.

“Human,” he mocked, sneering at you.

“Why—why did you bring me here?” you asked, fearful. Was he going to eat you? But that didn’t make a whole lot of sense, since he’d just—wait, had he just saved your life?

“Poison,” he answered you, watching you collect your bearings, chest heaving. “You had hemlock poisoning.”

Your fingers were shaking, remembering how you’d fallen face first into a patch of plants beside a tree right before you had gotten dizzy. You managed to poison yourself with hemlock accidentally and now here you were, seated beside a goblin.

You should thank him for saving your life. You wanted to. But these creatures always carried with them a price for good deeds.

“What do you want from me?” you asked him slowly.

He scoffed, turning away from you and standing to his full height. He left you with a tiny semblance of privacy as he shuffled over to a desk and you looked around yourself, seated on the earthy grass. It looked like an alcove and you could see a shut wooden door up ahead, everything lit with small lanterns that lined the walls.

“Who said I wanted anything from you?” he finally spoke, turning to face you again. He threw you a blanket, which you caught with unsteady hands and held to your chest. It was scratchy but warm and you spread it out over your body, relishing in the warmth as the goblin watched you from where he stood, merely a few feet away.

“You’re a goblin,” you told him. “Goblins always have a price.”

He smiled sharply, eyes hard. “And you’re a human. Humans are always ungrateful.”

You frowned, pulling the blanket up to your chin and watching him. “I’m not ungrateful. You saved my life.”

“I did,” he returned. “Hemlock does not affect goblins the way it does humans.”

“We don’t know each other,” you said lowly. “Why would you save my life?”

He sighed, fidgeting. “Death is not something to wish for.” Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth, but he continued before you could speak. “Also, I do not desire the blame for a human’s death.” He glared at you for a second too long before turning back to his desk, fiddling with something you couldn’t see.

You shut your mouth, cheeks warming. You shifted your body weight, grimacing when your ankle shot pain up your leg and tingles set in. Reaching down, you pushed part of your sock down and away from your ankle, biting your lip when you saw how swollen it was—it was even starting to bruise.

The silence was stiffening and your nerves weren’t calming, not when you were basically stuck in a goblin’s home with said creature having every advantage of you. If he really didn’t want a human’s death on his hands, he would let you leave, surely. You weren’t sure if you’d even be able to stand, let alone find your way out of the dense forest, but you needed to take the chance anyway.

“Can I leave?” you asked, breaking the silence and staring at the goblin’s back.

He turned to face you again, blinking his large brown eyes comically. You bit back an incredulous laugh—he was immensely attractive, especially for a goblin; though, you’d never actually seen one in the flesh before, only from stories told by others and what you’d learned in school.

“No,” he responded.

Anger bubbled up inside of you. “Is the price for saving my life keeping me here?” you hissed. He rolled his eyes and you scoffed. “I knew you’d have a price—goblins never do anything out of the goodness of their hearts.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “If you even have one.”

Your remarks were met by more silence and you let it fester for a few beats before facing the goblin. He was staring down at a small glass vial that he held in his large hands, turning it over while he clenched his jaw tight. The movement made his pointed ears twitch.

“There is no price,” he finally said, meeting your gaze harshly. His brows were pulled down, wrinkling the skin between them and his lips were downturned into a scowl. “If you don’t wish to die from the hemlock, you need more treatment.” Your face felt hot, embarrassment slipping into you and gripping tight. The goblin’s face was like stone, not revealing anything except his displeasure, but his eyes—his eyes reflected the hurt that your words must have inflicted.

“Oh,” you muttered quietly, tearing your gaze away from him. You couldn’t stand to look at him anymore, your pride too high for any thought of apology to form in your head.

He set the vial down on his desk and walked away from you, further into the home—which, you suspected, was just built in an alcove or maybe even the hollow of a tree. Who really knew, when it came to goblins? They were known to have magical abilities, causing the downfall of many humans throughout history.

“How—how did you heal me?” you asked, voice quieter than it had been earlier. You twisted your body to face him, watching him settle down in a very comfortable looking worn out couch. He gnawed on his lip, looking flustered, before he could meet your eyes.

“Saliva,” he answered you. “If you swallow goblin saliva, it heals the poison in your body.” You bit the inside of your cheek, remembering how he’d kissed you when you awoke. “You, uh—you ingested too much of the hemlock to fully reap the benefits of the treatment. That’s why you must stay here until all of it can be removed from your body. The paralysis was already settling in when I found you.”

It was quiet in the home, the only sound between the two of you being your heartbeat ringing in your ears. “Thank you,” you breathed.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, grabbing a book and starting to read, flipping through the pages.

“Um,” you interrupted. “I’m ____. What’s your name?” He only responded by quirking his mouth up and staring at you. You rubbed your palms on the grass beneath you nervously. “I’d like to know the name of the creature that saved my life.”

He let out a slow breath, shutting the book and relaxing further into the couch. He gave you an inquisitive look, running his gaze down your body quickly as he considered your request. “I do not owe you an answer,” he started. “But I will give you one. My name is Jungkook.”

You bit back the smile that twitched at your lips. “Thank you for saving my life, Jungkook,” you said.

His eyes were sparkling with mirth as a smile lit up his face, though those brown eyes of his remained dark as they focused on you. “You’re welcome, ____.”

You woke to Jungkook shaking your shoulder gently. Blinking up at him in confusion, you sat up and groaned at the twinge in your back from sleeping on the grass all night.

Your throat felt a little clogged up, rough, and you coughed into your palm. Jungkook let his palm rest on the back of your head, slipping his fingers in the strands of your hair, and pushed a small vial onto your lips, raising his brows and nodding in encouragement. You parted your lips and tilted your head back into his palm, letting him pour the liquid into your mouth—it tasted sweet, like candies that reminded you of home.

Once you’d swallowed, he set the vial down and leaned in. You put a hand on his chest and stopped him. “What do you think you’re doing?” you asked, voice hoarse with sleep.

He lifted a brow in response. “The antidote I’ve made isn’t enough. I assume you want to be on your way home soon?”

“Of course I do,” you snapped.

“Then you need some help from me,” he told you. “Unless you’d prefer drinking the saliva from the vial as well, in which case it’ll only take me a few minutes to fill it—”

“No, no, no, no—please don’t spit in it and make me drink it,” you interrupted, gagging at the mere thought of what he was implying.

The slight smirk that quirked up his lips didn’t slip by your notice. “Then the only other way is to kiss you.”

You grumbled, ignoring the tightening of your belly and the trembling of your fingers. “Can’t we do it somewhere more comfortable?”

His smirk turned into a frown as he glanced back at his bed. “No offense, but I’m not fond of having a human in my bed.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, fine, whatever, just do it—”

His mouth was pressing into yours immediately, cutting you off. You made a muffled sound against his lips and parted yours, letting your eyes flutter shut. Jungkook licked into your mouth, pressing his tongue against yours as his hand moved to cup your cheek, the one in your hair tangling and tugging you into an easier position.

You gasped as he angled your head back farther, shuffling closer to your body and kissing you harder. Your hands fisted in his shirt, gripping the rough fabric tightly as you tried to push even closer to him. You met his tongue’s movements with yours, trying to lead the kiss as your body grew hotter and hotter.

He pulled away from you with a loud and obscene smacking noise. Your eyes snapped open and you met his dark gaze, his pupils dilated. He let go of you quickly, as if touching you burned him, and cleared his throat. You had to catch yourself before you fell completely on your back, chest heaving as you swallowed. Your cheeks flushed with warmth and your nerves tingled all over your body, spreading like a wildfire through your veins.

“I think that’s—that’s enough for today,” he said awkwardly, rubbing the shine on his lips away with the back of his hand.

“Okay,” you agreed simply, cursing yourself for getting carried away in his kiss.

“I have to go out and do something,” he told you blankly, grabbing a pack off his desk and shoving items into it. He turned back to you, face wiped of all emotion. “Don’t touch anything.”

You nodded and he didn’t spare you another glance as he turned and walked down the alcove, opening a door and walking out into a brightly lit forest from what you could see, shutting it after himself. The loud click of a lock quelled your enthusiasm and you huffed, slumping in your spot.

You tried to get up, but you couldn’t even bend your foot as pain seared up your calf from your ankle. You wanted to explore his home while he was gone, though you weren’t sure how long it would take him to return. Scooting back slowly, you managed to make it to the desk he had, twisting yourself onto your knees and wincing at the throb of protest your ankle gave when you lifted your foot up in the air behind you. Using the desk as support, you managed to stand on one foot, keeping the injured one lifted up off the ground. You were panting by the time you got up, pain hindering you more than it normally would have.

Looking down at his desk revealed it to be littered with gadgets and papers, vials full of liquids and scratched out writing in a language you couldn’t read on said papers. You examined some of the items, finding a watch and pens and pencils, a few books in what you assumed was the same language as what was written in his notes, and some dried herbs.

You hopped over to the couch, which upon closer inspection was a recliner, and slowly sat down in it, relishing in the soft cushions and familiarity. It was nice not to be laying on the ground anymore—which made you wonder where exactly his home was located that it had wooden walls and a door but grassy ground, like the forestry just beyond the exit.

You couldn’t get the latch on the side of the couch to work, so you slowly set your foot down and winced at the flare from the shift in position. Your elbow knocked into something on the armrest and you gasped, quickly catching it in your hands before it could tumble to the floor.

It was the book you’d seen Jungkook reading yesterday.

You opened it to where it had been marked, a gold string leaving his place. You pouted when you realized you couldn’t understand anything, but you tried to read the strange sounding words anyway, cocking your head.

Only a few minutes had passed when the door burst open, slamming against the wall, and you flinched harshly, snapping your head up from the yellowing pages to look at the source of the noise.

Jungkook was standing in the doorway, panting.

And he looked furious.

He marched over to the couch, shutting the door behind him with his foot and twisting his hand—you heard the lock click into place even though he hadn’t touched it and your heart leapt into your throat at the recognition of magic. It didn’t take long until he was standing before you, your body trapped on the couch and staring up at him with wide eyes, and he snatched the book from your grasp.

“I told you not to touch anything,” he hissed.

“I only wanted to see what was in the book—”

He made an odd sound, similar to a growl, and tossed the book back toward his bed. Your heart was hammering inside of your chest, loud enough that you were certain he could hear it, and you yelped when he reached down and shoved his hands under your thighs and back.

“What are you doing?!” you shouted, moaning in pain when he lifted you into his arms and the movement jostled your injured limb.

He didn’t answer you, walking a few steps and crouching down, dropping you unceremoniously back in the spot you were before he left in a hurry. You blinked away the tears pricking your eyes as he stood back up, glaring at you with a gaze so menacing it made a chill run down your spine.

“Don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you, human,” he snarled. Without waiting for a reply, he stormed over to his bed further in the home, still completely in your sight as there were no separate rooms or halls, and twisted his wrist as he kicked off his shoes and climbed into his bed. The lights flickered out and you heard him rustling before all was quiet in the small space you shared.

You gnawed on your bottom lip for a few minutes before deciding to try to sleep, laying down on your back and choking back the tears that threatened to break free. You lay awake on the ground for what seemed like hours, listening to the sound of your own breathing and wishing for the comforts of your own home and your own people.

The same routine followed as another two days passed, your hair knotting and your skin irritated. You felt gross with everything sticking to your skin, unaccustomed to being in the wilderness for so long at once, along with an added shame twisting your insides with every flicker of heat in your body at Jungkook’s touches, his kisses.

You didn’t dare touch his book again, leaving it be and instead focusing on trying to decide what to do. Jungkook had said earlier that it would be the last treatment you needed from him and you could leave whenever you wished.

Which left you with two problems; your foot was still killing you and you had no idea where you even were, let alone knowledge of how to get back home.

You decided to wait for his return, unsure if you would even be able to open his door without him present. You didn’t know what he left to do each day, but curiosity did not win out when you thought of who he was probably meeting—other goblins.

You perked up on the couch when the door opened hours later, the dim light from outside shadowing his figure. Jungkook walked in, handing you some fruit as he had done before, which you gratefully ate. He stretched his arms while you finished and then gave you an inquisitive stare.

“I told you that you could leave,” he said.

“You did,” you replied.

“So why didn’t you?”

You swallowed the remaining bites of fruit, fidgeting awkwardly. “I don’t know where I am,” you told him. “And my ankle still hurts. I suspect it’s broken.”

He hummed, walking over to stand in front of you and then crouching down so his head was level with your lap. He dragged his fingers down your leg, eyes flitting up to meet yours, his gaze heavy on yours. You hissed when his fingers pushed gently on your ankle. “Probably,” he murmured, the corner of his lips twitching up.

“You healed the poison,” you started, keeping your voice low.

“Mhm,” he agreed, letting his gaze wander back down your body as his fingers caressed your ankle, tugging your shoe and sock off.

“Can’t you heal my foot too?” you whispered.

He snapped his gaze back up to your face, his eyes twinkling and his mouth spreading into a grin. “I can,” he said easily. Before you could ask him to do it, he suddenly held your ankle in his grip, pain shooting up your calf. You let out a strangled noise, your instinct to remove your limb from his grasp but he wouldn’t allow you to. He pulled himself up to his knees, sliding his torso between your legs quickly. “But that kind of favor is one that comes with a price,” he continued, voice pitched low and deep.

“What kind of price?” you asked. You swallowed past the lump forming in your throat, the grip he had around your ankle still spreading sparks of pain through your leg.

Jungkook leaned in closer, the tip of his nose barely brushing against yours as he whispered his price. “You.”

“What do you mean?”

“One night,” he told you. The smile was still present on his face, his eyes dark and every touch of skin releasing sparks in your veins. “Your body.”

You licked your lips and your stomach twisted with satisfaction when his eyes darted down to watch the movements of your tongue. “I thought you said you didn’t like the idea of a human in your bed,” you breathed, biting down on your bottom lip.

“You don’t have to,” he commented. His hand’s loose hold on your ankle remained and his other hand came up to your face to tuck it behind your ear, letting his finger tips graze the outside of your ear. “The price for your ankle has been set. Take it or leave it.” His look was steady, the smile gone from his face, as he spoke. “It is your choice.”

Your heart was hammering into your ribs, the arousal heating your body and drowning out the shame at the attraction you felt for him. You couldn’t think about what your family and friends would think of you, you didn’t care about how people treated sympathizers—all you knew in that moment was that you wanted Jungkook, wanted more of his skin on yours, his mouth all over you; you wanted everything.

“I’ll pay the price,” you whispered to him, surging forward and pressing your mouth to his. He made a muffled sound against you and then he was pushing forward, nipping at your bottom lip and licking into your mouth as his grip on your ankle tightened to an almost painful degree. You cried out against his lips, heat building in your foot—and then it was gone, leaving a dull throb as pleasure ran up your calf. You gasped into his mouth, kissing him back fervently and tangling your hands in his dark hair while his own hands ran up your legs to your thighs.

He stood up, pulling away from you abruptly, and held out his hands for you. Slipping your hands into his, you let him pull you up from the couch, and he led you over to the unmade bed, where he gently pushed you to sit down on it. He followed after quickly, towering his body over yours before he kissed you again, trailing chaste pecks all the way down your throat to your collarbone as he tugged your tattered skirt up your body. His hands moved to your blouse, ripping it halfway down to expose your breasts to him.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled into your skin, trailing his mouth down your chest to the top of your breast. You arched your back and threw your head back as he wrapped his mouth around your nipple, sucking and licking it as his hand kneaded your other breast.

His free hand trailed down to your belly, slipping it under the remains of your shirt to caress the skin before slipping down to your thighs and sliding up to your soaked panties. He yanked them down to your knees in one go, growling against your skin as he pulled back from your chest, sniffing loudly and moaning softly. He met your eyes and your cheeks felt warm, thighs attempting to close to subside the ache that had begun between them.

“You smell so good,” he mumbled, shifting back on the bed and using both hands to spread your thighs apart at the knees, the strength he used ripping your panties. He tossed them aside without another thought. You bit down on your lip hard enough to break the skin and tasted copper in your mouth while you watched him stare at you. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how aroused you got during your treatments,” he said, a sly smile spreading on his face as he met your eyes for a brief second before focusing back down between your legs.

Jungkook ducked down iirmmediately, not even giving you a second to prepare yourself before he was nosing at you, the tips of his ears brushing your inner thighs as he licked a stripe up your slit. Your legs were pinned down by his hands as he continuously licked up your slick, the vibrations from his moans making your hands shake as they found purchase in his dark hair. His fingers dug into your skin as his mouth worked on you, tongue dipping into your entrance and making you mewl. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked on it hard a few times before he detached himself from you, propping himself up on his knees and leaving you sopping and aching for more.

“Will you be a good girl and suck my cock?” he purred, eyes hooded as he changed positions, sitting properly and spreading his legs apart. You nodded your head immediately, sitting up and crawling between his legs, undoing his pants as he praised you softly. He was hard and you shoved your tongue into your cheek as you tugged him out of his pants, eyes widening at his size. “Go ahead,” he encouraged. “I know you can take it all, baby.”

You rubbed your thighs together as you took the head into your mouth, sucking hard and looking up at Jungkook through your lashes. He breathed out harshly and placed his hand on the back of your head softly, looking down at you and gnawing on his plump bottom lip. You focused on pleasuring him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick as you worked on it, sucking and bobbing your head lower. You managed to fit most of it in your mouth when his hips jerked and the head hit the back of your throat. You gagged briefly and swallowed hard around him, making him groan loudly in response before pulling you off of him by your hair. You detached from him with an obscene popping sound and when you met his eyes, they were dark and the pupils were blown so wide you could barely see the brown of his irises.

He held your head up by your hair and you blinked owlishly, licking your lips and feeling the precum and saliva smeared across your mouth and chin. Jungkook made an animalistic sound and pounced on you, pushing you to your back on his bed and pushing his mouth on yours, licking into it hotly and fitting his hips between your legs. His cock pushed against your folds, sliding in the slick of your arousal and spit. The head rubbed your clit a few times and you wrapped your legs around his hips to bring him closer, fisting the sheets in your hands and moaning brokenly into his mouth.

“Please fuck me,” you breathed, pushing your chest into his and hissing with pleasure as the rough material of his shirt rubbed against your nipples. He bit down on your lip and moved to your jaw, kissing and nipping as he brought a hand down to grip himself and line the head up with your entrance.

He rubbed the head against your slit a few times, breathing roughly into your neck as he ducked his head to watch. “You’re so wet, all for me,” he mumbled. “How badly do you want my cock?”

“So bad,” you keened. “I want it so bad, fuck me, please—”

He thrusted in harshly, cutting you off with a startled gasp as his cock stretched your walls. He was halfway in and rocked his hips gently, pushing a little deeper with each thrust. You swallowed roughly and gripped his arms tightly in your hands, fisting his sleeves as you clenched around him.

“Relax,” he said. “Am I hurting you?”

You shook your head, screwing your face up as you tried to rock your own hips. “No, just—you’re so big.”

He huffed a laugh as he continued to roll his hips until he was fully inside of you, cock nestled in your folds and skin sticking to yours. You were so wet and aroused you could hear the sounds even as he barely moved, only grinding his hips into yours as your walls adjusted.

You managed to relax, but it lasted merely a second as he felt your walls unclench and his hand dipped between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it mercilessly as he pulled halfway out and shoved back inside. He kept up his brutal pace, fingers digging into your clit without pause as he moved. Your moans were so loud you would’ve been embarrassed had you not completely given in to the pleasure, pressure building in your abdomen.

He bit down on the juncture of your shoulder hard and your body couldn’t handle it, your orgasm hitting you fast and harshly. You’d never felt this much pleasure from a man before and you knew you’d never be able to sleep with any man again without comparing them to Jungkook. He kept rolling his hips into yours, helping you through your orgasm until you winced. He held himself still inside you and you could feel his cock throbbing, hard and hot within your walls. Your sporadic squeezing around him made him twitch and you mewled at the feeling of it.

After a minute of labored breathing and stillness, he pulled back slowly and began a much gentler pace, thrusting his cock into you slowly before pulling it out to the head and repeating. You whimpered, but then his fingers were tapping your abused clit and your breath hitched, your back arching as the pain turned into pleasure.

“You’re going to come again for me,” he demanded, licking the spot he’d bitten. “You’re so tight and so warm,” he continued, moaning as his thrusts picked up speed. “You’re never going to want anyone but me.” His cock was shoving in and out of you quicker and quicker, the head rubbing against your sweet spot and making you see stars. You brought your arms around his shoulders and dragged a hand into his hair, gripping it tight as you keened loudly, bucking your hips against his in search of release. “You’ll never be able to fuck anyone, touch anyone else, without thoughts of me. That’s your price to pay,” he mumbled into your skin. You were barely coherent, muttering nonsense as he gave a particularly well-aimed thrust and the head of his cock brushed your g-spot again, his fingers pinching your clit harshly, and your pleasure washed over you even more intensely than the first time.

As you rode out your high, Jungkook’s movements became erratic and his thrusts grew sloppier as he chased his own high, moving his hand away from your clit to grasp at the bedsheets on both sides of your head. Your chest heaved as you clenched tighter around his cock, the lewd noises from where you were joined echoing throughout his home and flushing your face red.

Your hand in his hair worked gently as he shoved into you so hard your body shifted up a few centimeters with every thrust. Your fingers brushed the tips of his pointed green ears and his entire body tensed, a startled noise tearing itself from his throat as he stilled inside of you, hunching his body over yours and resting his forehead on yours as he came. Spurts of come painted your walls as he rolled his hips through his orgasm, his seed filling you up and leaking down to the sheets.

When his cock softened he pulled it out of you, his come slipping out along with it and dirtying you even more. He laid down beside you on the bed, turning his head to look at you. You met his look with your own, smiling weakly at him. He shifted his body to face yours and rested a hand on your thigh. Jungkook watched you carefully as he trailed it up, gathering his dripping come and shoving it back inside you with his fingers. You whined and clenched around his fingers as he repeated the action a few dozen times before relenting, bringing his hand up to your mouth and smearing the come on his fingers on your mouth before leaning in to kiss you deeply.

Neither of you said anything as he grabbed the rumpled blanket and brought it up to cover the both of you. He fell asleep quickly afterwards, one arm draped across you; but you lay awake, body trembling and rolling your freshly healed ankle a few hundred times before you could even think to sleep.

You awoke a handful of hours later, Jungkook sleeping soundlessly beside you as he had been when you finally let yourself slip into a restless sleep. You lay in his bed for a few more moments as your heart pounded in your chest and you decided it was time to leave. Your thoughts were threatening to drown you as you slipped out of his bed and out from under his arm carefully, fixing your clothes as well as you could.

You faced Jungkook again, biting the inside of your cheek as you leant down and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “Thank you for everything,” you whispered, knowing he’d never know just what he’d done for you. It was really a shame that he was a goblin and you were a human—the butterflies bombarding your belly every time you looked at him had grown in the past few days and you wished you could spend more time getting to know him, maybe even growing to—

You shook your head, getting rid of the thoughts plaguing your mind quickly. You grabbed your bag, which had been thrown to the side by the desk, and pulled it over your shoulder. You decided to grab his small blanket off the couch, wrapping the prickly material around your frame to cover your torn shirt and keep you warm when you ventured outside in search of your home. Before you left, your eyes caught on his book, sitting on the arm of the recliner. In a split second decision, you gently pushed it into your bag, looking back at Jungkook to make sure he hadn’t woken up.

He was still asleep, his chest moving up and down peacefully and undisturbed.

You slowly made your way to the wooden door, the lock seeming nonexistent as you pushed it open slowly and walked out into the brightly lit forest. You came out of a tree trunk and you marveled at it—goblin magic really was amazing, more so than you’d ever heard or learned about in school. When the door shut, it dematerialized until there was nothing left but the hollow tree trunk. Your lips parted in wonder and you rushed back in but saw no signs of a goblin home anywhere.

Shaking your head, you dragged yourself away from the tree and started to make your way through the forestry, an unusual feeling tingling in your limbs; you had no idea where you were or where you were going, but it was as if your body knew on its own where it was headed.

Before long, you saw the edges of your home village and a smile tugged at your lips as you rushed toward it, running down the hilly grass and jostling your bag against your thigh. You ran through the town, ignoring the villagers cries at your reappearance as you reached your own home, the door shut and the lights inside on. You knocked on the door excitedly and when the door opened to reveal Namjoon, his own appearance looking worn down, your face broke out with a huge grin.

“____!” he exclaimed, eyes wide. You threw your arms around him, beyond relieved that you’d come home to him and that his was the first familiar face you saw. “We thought you went missing and something happened, you—you didn’t come home for days!”

“I’m okay,” you said, smiling into his skin. You pulled away from the hug, though his hands remained on your back. “I got lost but—I found my way back home.”

Namjoon ushered you into your home to see your family again, your mother shouting and crying as she wrapped you up in her arms so tight you could barely breathe as you laughed her worry off.

The book in your bag felt heavier, its presence burning against your thigh. You paid it no mind, smiling and waving your family’s concern away as Namjoon slipped his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers. You grinned at him and tightened your hold on the strap of your bag, thoughts of the goblin already swirling through your brain at the touch of another.

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southeastasianists · 6 years

Link

Indonesian filmmaker Joko Anwar is making moves in a surging industry. He directed the first season of HBO Asia’s Jakarta-set supernatural series Halfworlds and some episodes of its new horror series Folklore. He joins other local auteurs enjoying both domestic and international acclaim for movies like last year’s Marlina the Murderer in Four Acts, directed by Mouly Surya. The so-called “satay Western” about a wronged woman out for revenge won raves at 2017’s Cannes Film Festival, and is the nation’s pick to compete for Best Foreign Language Film at next year’s Academy Awards.

Filmmaking in Indonesia dates back more than a century, and movies were first shown there in 1900. The current resurgence comes after last century’s bumpy journey for an art form that never totally took hold of audiences’ imagination.

“We hear about a once-rich Indonesian cinema culture, but it was an illusion,” Anwar told Southeast Asia Globe.

He’s referring to the sagas of Sundanese legends that were popular with Indonesian audiences in the 1920s, but were told from the point of view of the Dutch directors who made them on location in what was then the Dutch East Indies. In the early 1930s, elaborate romantic melodramas were all the rage, but they were created by Chinese entrepreneurs who were flush from the Shanghai movie boom and extending their market around the region. Heavily financed foreign productions discouraged local film production, which was scattershot and based mainly in Jakarta. The Great Depression and Dutch taxes made this dream all but impossible by the mid-1930s.

A handful of enterprising filmmakers dipped their toes in the water in the 1940s – just before film production was banned under the Japanese occupation. Government-approved political films saturated the post-Independence era until a string of indie domestic films enjoyed huge success in the 1980s. The 1988 political biopic Tjoet Nja’ Dhien was the first Indonesian film to be invited to Cannes. Soon after that victory, local filmmaking took a big hit when the government lifted a ban on the screening of foreign films. Indonesian moviemakers couldn’t compete with blockbusters from Hollywood and Hong Kong. During Southeast Asia’s economic crisis of 1997, Indonesia’s economy tanked, along with box office sales and investment in domestic film production. Just six movies were made in Indonesia in 1999.

The industry has been recovering since the mid-2000s, and in most Indonesian cities, air-conditioned multiplexes are seeing relatively healthy sales. John Riady, an Indonesian entrepreneur and editor at large of the Jakarta Globe, describes Indonesia as “the most invisible country in the world”, referring to the rarity of good English writing about the country and poor tourism marketing. It’s home to a quarter of a billion people, and its capital, Jakarta, is a gargantuan tech-obsessed metropolis that sends more tweets daily than any other city on the planet. Metrics like that are impressive, but local cinema isn’t quite keeping pace.

“Indonesians used to have a closer emotional relationship with movies and cinemas, mainly because there weren’t many alternatives to movie-watching at that time, and cinemas were not in high-end shopping malls,” explained Anwar. “Today, going to a cinema requires more effort since most of them are inside places which the average Indonesian person – someone who lives outside of Jakarta, for example, or the average Jakartan who doesn’t visit luxury malls – has no access to.”

Anwar, 42, is a solidly built man who dresses and talks with the confidence of someone who tours the international film-festival circuit and enjoys a lucrative career. He grew up in a poor part of Sumatra and spent much of his childhood watching horror and kung-fu movies. In 2003, he wrote Indonesia’s first gay-themed film, Arisan!, and went on to write and direct a slew of films throughout the 2000s. His 2007 film, Kala, was lauded at the New York Asian Film Festival. His 2009 thriller, Forbidden Door, was screened at film festivals all over the world, and the Hollywood Reporter compared it to the work of Alfred Hitchcock.

The biggest challenge faced by Indonesian cinema is getting audiences in seats, Anwar explained.

“There are too few cinemas, compared to the increasing interest in cinema-going. For the past three years, Indonesia has enjoyed a [rise in] ticket sales for locally produced films, and it seems like we are going to surpass that also this year. However, ticket prices have crept up to keep pace with demand, and this puts a visit to the cinema out of the reach of most Indonesians, who either don’t have or can’t justify spending that kind of money on a movie ticket. There’s also the fact that the older traditions of movie-going are gone, and so unless you’re an upwardly mobile Jakartan, cinema isn’t on your radar at all. You watch TV. You talk to your family.”

Anwar then produced something unexpected: the 2015 dystopian A Copy of My Mind, set in Jakarta during the tense 2014 presidential elections. The urban drama and love story about a low-rent salon worker and a guy who writes subtitles for pirated DVDs featured Jakarta as a character more than a setting.

“My vision of Jakarta in A Copy of My Mind was meant to be a love letter to the city I moved to 20 years ago,” said Anwar. “Back then, I was penniless but I fell in love with the city right away. It was a very diverse place and people were more tolerant. Preachers weren’t spreading hate in mosques. Nightlife was colourful. We even had a gay film festival – imagine that, in the world’s most Muslim-populated country!”

Unlike the Hong Kong of Wong Kar-wai or the Madrid of Almodóvar, Anwar’s Jakarta wasn’t venerated, there was no background razzle-dazzle. In A Copy of My Mind, Jakarta is a bleak and ominous place, akin to the Phnom Penh of the Cambodian filmmaker Rithy Panh.

“Now, it feels like I don’t know Jakarta anymore. I believe that the 2014 presidential campaign started a kind of hateful atmosphere in the city, and in the country,” he said. “There were so many black campaigns launched, and they seriously damaged our capability for logic and cultural expression. Now hate has been normalised: you hear it from religious preachers, on the street, even in schools by teachers. With A Copy of My Mind, I guess I wanted to make a time capsule of that one particular year so 20 years from now, when things get better or worse, we can watch that film and remember what happened, and reflect.”

There are no film schools in Indonesia, but it does have five filmmaking education programmes at universities and institutes. It has just over 1,000 cinema screens, compared to nearly 15,000 in the comparable economy of India, which has a robust national cinema culture. In the Philippines, the industry employs a quarter of a million people and 50 million Filipinos go to the movies every year.

So why does Indonesia lag behind?

“First of all, good and entertaining movies in Indonesia are so rare that momentum in viewership can’t be sustained,” said Anwar. “This makes it hard to argue for financing, it makes it hard to motivate people to join the industry or take up training, and human resources in Indonesian filmmaking are already so rare. This results in a lot of untrained people making well-intentioned but poor-quality films. But most films are likely to get a theatrical release to fill cinema schedules, thus glutting the market with low-grade product – and this turns audiences off even further.”

Anwar hopes the current successes signal a turning point. He spoke of the increase in new movie theatres and educational opportunities, including the workshops and training offered through the government’s Creative Economy Agency.

When Southeast Asia Globe caught up with him, Anwar was in post-production after a long shoot on location in Jakarta and West Java for his next film, Gundala, based on 1980s Indonesian superhero comic books. Promo shots and poster art for it are plastered on Indonesian Facebook pages and in that deluge of Jakartan tweets.

After his work with HBO Asia, it seemed possible that Anwar would follow the money and work internationally, but Gundala suggests the exact opposite.

“I believe what’s important is making films that you can inject your own personality into, your views of life,” he said. “I think I will be happy making movies anywhere, as long as I am doing movies which I care about, with stories that I believe in, and with interesting characters. It still has to be a personal experience for me. As long as I’m allowed to do that, making movies anywhere will still be bliss.”

#southeast asia #Indonesia #Joko Anwar #Film #Movies #Director #People #Cinema

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stevecanmakeanythingnerdy · 5 years

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Battle #29

Icicle Works: S/T ( Side 1 )

Vs.

Chicago : 17 ( Side 1 )

Icicle Works: S/T ( Side 1 )

The Icicle Works are an English alternative rock band and were named after the 1960 short story "The Day the Icicle Works Closed" by science fiction author Frederik Pohl. The band was founded in Liverpool in 1980 when bassist Chris Layhe answered an advertisement for a musical collaborator placed by 20-year-old Ian McNabb. The two got together and started writing. They quickly added drummer Chris Sharrock and began playing live shows as "The Icicle Works". The distinctive nature of this band versus others of the time is all in the percussion. Later albums are more straightforward rock or even punk in nature, but this album seems very tribal. Celtic you could say. Think New Model Army meets Big Country. There is a goth meets punk theme. It all starts off with “Whisper to a Scream (Birds Fly)”. One of the more obscure 80s tunes but recently it was featured in the credits scene of Stranger Things, so maybe that gives it some street cred. It’s a good tune. Catchy and energetic without being a burden. Also, pretty sure there is a monk chanting in the background...I could be wrong. None of my description will do it justice, just listen to the dang tune. “In The Cauldron of Love” follows and honestly how many songs do you know that dare to sing about cauldrons? Exactly. They go a little Screaming Trees on this one. Dark, and with more rock than you would expect. Downward spiraling riffs that stir you up in their cauldron. I just wanted to say that word one more time. It doesn’t even make sense anymore. Cauldron. Yeah...so “Nirvana” is next and it’s about the grunge band by the same name. Just kidding. But there is more chanting and bad ass drum fills. The structure does a good job of feeling peaceful then building up to frantic and blissful payoffs. Certainly some psychological elements. Trippy at times. “Lover’s Day” is a slower tune, but again with some awesome and amazing fills. Flute toots to boot. Nothing says love like a flute. “A Factory in the Desert” is not only a bizarre title, but a bizarrely rocking song as well. In fact, I think that’s the single most surprising thing about this group is their big rock sound for being only a three piece. The jangle guitar aside, there are elements of Echo and the Bunnymen with an Irish coffee aspect. Cultural rock. Very nature and religious themes and inspiration. I feel more peaceful after listening.

Chicago : 17 ( Side 1 )

Chicago is an American rock band formed in 1967 in Chicago, Illinois. Ironic I know. They originally started calling themselves the Chicago Transit Authority in 1968 before shortening the name in 1969. The self-described “rock and roll band with horns” began writing politically charged rock music, and later moved to a softer sound, generating several hit ballads. Also right on trend with other bands naming themselves after their home city. (Looking at you, Boston). The band technically began in California under the name, The Big Thing, but opted to relocate to the Windy City and renamed themselves in doing so. They achieved a fair amount of success before moving so in a somewhat unusual move their debut album was a double LP. The label had big hopes and were not disappointed. Let’s just say it did well enough that their second and third albums were ALSO double LPs. A lot of those early hits sustained the band, but let’s be honest, a lot of that came from the frontman Peter Cetera. The band continued to have great success, pretty much up to his departure in the mid 80s. In fact, if I recall correctly, this album (17...a numbered theme/gimmick they kept in tact most of their career) was his last with the group. Probably because he realized that they kind of suck. “Stay the Night” was a big hit for the boys. Too bad they don’t rock (like the chorus suggests) all the time. It does have a decent hook though. “We can’t Stop Hurtin’” is ...another song ... with some big old keys sound. But then ruined by those jangle guitar riffs. GTFO disco Stu!!! Aaargh, plus those god awful crap horns. As if it’s not evident, I’m really not a big fan of this garbage. This is exactly why this band can go straight to hell. My ears are offended. Another lame hit for these d-bags was “Hard Habit To Break”. You might remember the video where Peter tries to be cool and wears a Bauhaus shirt...? Yeah, well that basically summarizes this whole experience. Ballad junk. Gross bloat rock. F*#@ THESE GUYS. Even the futile attempts to 80s-ify the band can’t save them. “Only You” is next and I literally have no good words to say. I think it’s a different singer on this one? I hate this record. I’m staring at the stylus with daggers waiting for the agony to end! WHY WON’T IT END ALREADY!!???! “Remember The Feeling” is next. I feel like only jerks like this band. Like, if you actually enjoy this ear vomit, then...you are a person that gives up a pet dog because it peed on your bed or something. You are a fowl, wretched human who hates yourself and is constantly cutting people off in traffic. Yeah, THAT kind of jerk listens to this trash. Even Peter Cetera was smart enough to get off the bus, man. He went solo. I may also still be bitter as I was forced to see these guys in concert when I was 5. My parents took me and I only remember falling asleep. Let me repeat that: Chicago, live on stage, PUT ME TO SLEEP they were so boring. Years later, my parents won tickets to see them but couldn’t go. I was given the tickets and only decided to go because Earth, Wind, and Fire were the opener. Well again, the show sucked because it was a torrential downpour (outside venue) and Chicago is just terrible. I’m sorry but this band is horrifying.

(*ahem) So in today’s challenge The Icicle Works worked not only icicles, but body fat. They burned 159 calories over 21 minutes and 5 songs. That is 31.80 calories burned per song and 7.57 calories burned per minute. They also earned 11 out of 15 possible stars. Chicago, on the other hand decided 17 was their number. Here are some other numbers though... 22 which is the minutes, 158 which is the number of calories burned, and 5 which is the number of songs. They burned 31.60 calories per song and 7.18 calories per minute. They earned a (pathetic) 5 out of 15 possible stars. Looks like they may be cold, but those Icicle(s) works today!

Icicle Works: “Whisper To A Scream (Birds Fly)”

Recently featured in an episode of Stranger Things, so if it sounds familiar that could be why...or maybe that one financial commercial.

#Randomrecordworkoutseasonsix

#Randomrecordworkout

#randomrecordworkout #randomrecordworkoutseason6 #80s #vinyl #records #80s music #80's music #chicago #icicles #icicle works #stranger things #70's music #70s rock #70s #chicago is a lame ass band

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musicmixtapes · 6 years

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September 26, 2018 Mix

This week as I was curating the playlist, I got to thinking a lot about the way that our mood at a particular moment affects the music we choose to listen to. Some people say that they pick music the opposite of their mood to counteract a bad day, some choose to delve into that feeling and get in touch with it. I, being the latter, am having a memory ridden, reflective sort of week, so I chose songs that talk about the past a little bit and how they can influence the present/future. I hope you enjoy and find something that suits your mood.

Spotify Playlist 1. Planet Hunter by Wolf Alice - This song is all about trying to recreate memories of something or with someone that happened awhile back, events which were really positive, but they cannot be rehabilitated. The artist reminds me of if Taylor Swift had not become a pop music sellout and instead taken a dark moody indie music route, and well, the results are stunning because she creates a depth of feeling to the music that most pop cannot do, in my opinion. The part I relate to the most that struck me was the repeated phrase of "I left my mind behind in 2015" which reaches a point where we, as listeners, realize that there are peaks in our lives that we wish to return to, especially at some of our valleys. I love this because it is an upbeat song about feeling out of place in the present, which is really fascinating. 2. St. Paul by Ritchy Mitch & The Coal Miners - Honestly, the piano that tinkles into a wonderful melody/rift in the beginning has to be the most alluring part of this song, which eventually becomes a much bigger feeling as it continues on. There aren't many striking piano-driven songs these days, so I was impressed with that along with the fact that this song clearly disses a saint, yet doesn't seem offensive in the slightest because it is so personal and not an attack on anything but oneself's feelings. The instrumentals and their uncertainty directly correlate with the restlessness of the lyrics and the crunchy sound of the singer's vocals; we love to see a parallel of the sound of the music to the actual meaning behind the song. All the literary techniques used to write a song is the reason why our ears are so attuned to it. 3. Window by Nana Grizol - Going along with the recurring theme of memories and the past, this song is literally a metaphor for a window looking into the past of what something once was. The defining line of this song comes when the singer refers to the window of the past and saying that "we can lift them/and focus on the moments that we lift in" which is a beautiful shift in tone from a reminiscent tune to one that look towards changing for the better and leaving the memories (whether good, bad or ugly) behind for someone else to revolve around. The artist, Nana Grizol, often covers really broad topics, such as negative feelings, the passing of time, moving on in a really succinct way that reaches an audience who needs to hear mantras in a refreshing way. I like to think of this song as a meditative yoga for the ears, please practice daily. 4. Solitary Daughter by Bedouine - I found this song in the most interesting way, so here it is: I was in the Mcnally Jackson bookstore on Prince Street in the city, rifling through the poetry section (as one does) and stumbled upon a book that transcribed songs into poems and included commentary from other writers and from the artists themselves, in a lot of cases. Reading these lyrics as a poem in a book was so thrilling because I often talk a lot about how some songs are really just poetry set to music, and in this case, other people must have thought so too. This piece is incredible in its way of speaking about a woman not needing someone to rely on or anything to sustain her, except for her own self, her home is herself, which is so liberating to both hear and read. I highly recommend reading the lyrics alongside listening. 5. Chemicals by Gregory Alan Isokov - Off of his brand new EP "Dark, Dark, Dark" which was released not but six days ago, is this peaceful and meaningful acoustic folky ballad by a personal favorite of mine. This piece is especially interesting because it plays off of the notion of the different ways in which chemicals can affect a person's body, kind of like the way a person who is really important in one's life can do the same. An image that I love to see showing up in art is the trope of hands trying to reach one another, whether it be in the "Creation of Adam" or an old film. This song plays with this lost hands imagery, in the line "how my hands can't seem to find your hands in the dark", which if I wasn't already in love with the song, sealed the deal for me 100%. Definitely check out the other two tracks off of the EP, they are wonderful as well. 6. Slipped by The National - This week's mix all began with this one sad ballad by my current favorite group and it just built off of this. I cannot express with words, on paper or in person, how much I am tethered to the lyrics of this song. Something about the raw and honest way that this was strung together speaks to a person who is done with being vulnerable to someone who has no intention in showing hidden parts of themselves back. In this narrative song, the speaker is talking to a girl who left the city to go to a more rural area in the South, thus separating the two, and telling how tragic it is to break away from something when he could not be what she wanted him to be. This is a solemn and intense vow to oneself that they will not break down and fall apart because of a love ending, this is another mantra. 7. We're So Lost by Voom - Upon first instinct, I would like to classify this song under tracks I would listen to whilst laying under the stars and thinking about our existence in such a big place or while slow dancing with someone and contemplating what is going on. But now, even in a good mood this song makes sense because no matter how you feel in terms of being in this world, everyone can agree that we have no idea what we're doing most of the times and are mere beings that are floating through time and space, trying to determine why we were placed here in the first place. In some ways, this can be thought of as a slow rock philosophical crisis song, or you can just love it because of the waltz like beauty of it. Your choice. 8. Fuck Love by Lalić - I definitely expected a cynical, bitter, anger driven song when looking at the title, but if I can say any cliché here, it's don't judge a song (book) based on its title (cover). If anything, it's more of a love song, explaining that the speaker has no real reason to be saying things like "fuck love". I think this is interesting because oftentimes, people don't like to be honest with themselves about their emotions, so instead they put up their walls immediately and turn to sarcastic, defensive comments like "i hate everyone" "love suck" or.... "fuck love". Being one of these people, this song opens up that term and exposes us hate poseurs who are very sensitive and truly love to love. The low fi rock sounds with a strong guitar line is nice to hear as well. 9. Blood Bank by Bon Iver - He is so detailed in his description of bags of blood, I have to believe that he actually had a conversation with someone he loved at a blood bank, discussing the differences between people's blood... which is... interesting. It is also vital to this song to understand that the two separate memories he tells about are very closely related because he is explaining the variability of relationships and how to decide whether it is prudent to enter into an affair or to be your own person and indulge in lonely behavior. Of course, it never hurts to be told really emotional things like this with Bon Iver's delicate crooning and layered harmonies that build throughout with such simple complexity, unmatched by other singers in his genre. 10. How It Gets In by Frightened Rabbit ft. Julien Baker - Your first question after listening may very well be "how what gets in?" as my first question was this exact thing. Maybe what gets in is this undeniably wonderful call and response song along with angelic harmonies. But maybe, what gets in, at least in terms of this song, is the literal healing of an open wound and how to properly dress it and make sure it doesn't get infected, or at least that was what was accounted by the singers in question. I interpreted the song to be a recounting and lesson on how love can come into one's life in unexpected places, and how just because there was hurt and pain in the heart for a long time, does not mean it has to stay that way forever. 11. NFWMB by Hozier - This acronym is probably the smartest thing I have experienced in a song's title in a long time: NFWMB is really Nothing Fucks With My Baby, expressed in a classy way, courtesy of the forest prince and love of my life, Andrew Hozier-Byrne. As always, there are several biblical references and apocalyptic death metaphors, which always leaves me feeling very confused and inspired at the same time. The very jazz and blues influenced low key rock song is so different from other love songs that it kind of creates its own category in that sense. It is described by others as "the love song for the end of the world" therefore going back to my feelings of apocalypse, decay and biblical tellings. 12. One In A Million by Hudson Taylor - "You gotta be cruel if you wanna be kind" ok this just hit me way too hard and true. The only way I even discovered this artist is actually because they are opening up for the Hozier concert I am attending tonight and now I am super excited to see them perform as the opening act as well. They remind me of a toned down version of The Kooks in a lot of shared vocals and chord progressions and upbeat instrumentals, except they are a duo hailing from Ireland and they classify themselves a folk band, though the punk/alternative rock influences found in this song are undeniably present. Also present is the message of knowing someone doesn't care about you the way you care about them and needing to be released from that sort of madness... cool. 13. Into The Mystic by Van Morrison - I'm probably not introducing anybody to this song for the first time right now and certainly not the last, but something about the changing of the seasons and the shift of weather from summer to autumn calls out to the mystical and slow dance vibe that this classic and iconic folky rock song inspires. There is absolutely nothing better than the buildup from quiet lull to the horn heavy chorus and interlude that just makes you want to stop and dance wherever you are in your day. Another musical aspect that is highly appreciated by yours truly is the intricate acoustic guitar rift that is taken and shifted into a lot of newer acoustic based songs that we hear all the time these days. The past influences the present and the present is heard in the past all the time, especially in music. 14. Size Of The Moon by Pinegrove - Shifting into a more heavy punk, angst themed style of music is this memory driven song which tells us about a time where the speaker is thinking on the communication issues that occurred in a relationship and how they could have easily been remedied, but there was no effort on the other half's side. From an interpretation of the song, one person smartly said, "It’s really easy to indulge in nostalgia when you’re at a rocky part of a relationship. Suddenly everything appears better than the present, no matter how imperfect those times were." I have to concur with this notion because our perception of the past changes over time and when we miss someone, at times, we look at bad memories and they even start to seem better than being alone... but they are not. 15. Kathleen by Catfish and the Bottlemen - Another song geared towards a relationship not working out the way it's supposed to is from a band that is one of my all time favorites. Their comical British style of lyrics is so appealing to my American way of thinking of things and the heartfelt honesty heard in their songs play along quite nicely with the super power rock style in which they are written. This tune in specifics, is not about the past, but the present and trying to reflect on what is going on in the "now" which is a really complicated thing to try and do, when you are infatuated with someone. The instability is heard not just in the lyrics, but also in the interchanging chords of the electric guitar and the fast paced anxiety ridden drumbeat, which is awesome.. 16. Holland, 1945 by Neutral Milk Hotel - This band is one of the weirdest, coolest ones that only the people who love grating vocals and intense lyrics can truly appreciate to the desired capacity. The whole album, from the 90s, "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea" depicts the story of Anne Frank and the tragedies behind what happened to such an innocent person, along with her youthful romance and how it all devolved in such a short time. A lot of fans of this album have also speculated that there is a second layer of meaning between the World War II references, being that is expresses the kind of tension and tragedy that occurs when you lose some so important in your life, and how the mourning of this loss can only be remedied through appreciating this person afterwards. 17. I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You by Black Kids - Okay, so I'm pretty sure that we can all understand the meaning of the song strictly through the title of this song, negating my opinion before on how you should not judge a song based on its title... well in this case, you can absolutely do that. Not only does it have the best dance tune in the world, but it is also so adorable that the singer's only common connection with the girl he is speaking about is their affinity and adeptness with dancing. Although I definitely have "two left feet" as the singer describes the boyfriend having in this song, I relate to this in terms of music. If there is a person who I really care about, the connection I automatically have is usually in a musical sense, and I am greedy about this relation. We all have something we won't teach someone else's boyfriend/girlfriend if we care about them. 18. 123 by Girlpool - I love this so much. It depicts a relationship where the speaker is asking the partner/SO to tell them everything that is wrong with them in a really sarcastic and aggressive way. It's comical and honest and vulnerable all at once which I have to give a hand for because mixing comedy with painful relationships is something that I always attempt in my writing. The song deals with an interpersonal relationship that is simultaneously “toxic and loving" as described from a contributor on Genius Lyrics, which is a website I often refer to on advice and other commentaries on music I really enjoy. The girl rock power that is disseminated with this track is so strong and empowering, for any gender, so please don't hesitate to sing this when you're feeling angsty about someone. 19. Million Years Ago by Adele - I don't think I ever really talk about my deep appreciation for Adele on here, because I try to branch out from popular artists and focus on more under-appreciated and undiscovered types; but I'm making an exception because although she is one of the most iconic voices of the modern generation, this specific song is so underrated in terms of her best songs. It sounds so french/spanish acoustic ballad inspired and makes me feel like I am transported to a black and white film from the 50s with the sadness and depth that it gives me in such a simple way. It ALSO follows along with my theme of the week, which is looking back in order to look forward, because she sings about the troubles of missing things from the past and dealing with the issues of transforming into a different person. 20. Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex - Finally, one of the best mixes of every song I have spoken about previously, is this moody sad love tune by the moodiest, saddest, love bands of the modern generation. There is an unspoken cheesiness of Cigs After Sex songs that for some reason, I am completely enamoured with because I feel like the notion of expressing things in a hyperbolic way has been tossed by the wayside. This group brings back the feeling of needing to tell someone how much they care and not caring about what anyone else thinks, which is important in a world that so often ridicules the ridiculous emotions that love brings about. In particular this song speaks to the feelings of needing to get someone out of a feeling they are trapped in, so to be with them fully, and telling the person they will be there in their lowest and darkest times.

Hope you enjoyed listening with me, see you next week!

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