#i watched this episode last night and cried in laughter i forgot he was such a badass in this episode

[mycatismyfriend]

Angel the Series | 3x10 | "Dad" 🔥

[themetaphorgirl]

how to say “I love you”

okay so

this was actually inspired by this ask that I answered

and then I realized I could tie it into this post from @criminalmindsgonewrong

and then it exploded

(special shoutout to @f-m27 for letting me scream about this and reading it over!!)

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He forgot how to say I love you.

He didn’t do it on purpose. It just....happened.

“I love you,” he said to his father when he was tucked into bed at night.

“I love you,” he said to his mother when he came home from school.

His father stopped tucking him in, and stopped coming home, and after a while he never came home again.

His mother loved him, but sometimes she forgot who he was.

And he was too busy holding things together, sneaking out to the payphone with his mother’s credit card to pay the late power bill and buying groceries that he was too small to cook and working through classes with children twice his size.

And after a while, he forgot how to say it.

And then he went to school, and things changed.

He let Penelope borrow a pencil when she was trying to get her homework, and her last pencil broke, and she didn’t have a sharpener. All he did was hand her one of his. “Oh, I just love you!” she said, and he blinked in confusion, because it was just a pencil.

He said something funny without realizing it was funny, and Derek threw his head back and laughed, and tossed his arm around his skinny shoulders. “Aw, I love you, man,” he said. “You’re hilarious.” And he didn’t understand still, but he smiled because he’d done something right.

He was cornered by the bullies, because even here he was a target for kids bigger and older than him- but not smarter, never smarter, but smart could only take him so far. And JJ darted in between, pushing him behind her. “Pick on someone your own size,” she snarled, and when they left she knelt down, checking him for bruises and scrapes.

“Are you all right?” she asked anxiously. “They shouldn’t have done that, that’s not okay.”

“I’m fine,” he said, bewildered, because no one had come to his rescue before. But she took his hand and marched him away, anger cooling from red to pink in her cheeks, and he wondered why she decided to do that.

He got caught in the rain, hesitating behind the bigger kids as they watched the rain fall in gray sheets and the white sting of lightning shoot through the clouds, and eventually they made a break for it, trying to dodge the storm but losing the battle. They made it to the main building of the school, rainwater dripping from their clothes, and Emily ran her hands through his wet hair. “Shit, babe, you look like a drowned rat!” she laughed, and as she helped him wring out his blazer he thought he knew what she meant.

He couldn’t sleep, and he was stressed, and he wasn’t used to handling it yet like he was back home. He didn’t know how bad it was until a cup of water was pressed into his hand, and he looked up to see James. “You want to talk about it?” he asked, and he did, he did want to talk about it, and the words tumbled out like dropped marbles, and James let him speak until he was tired, listening intently, his body angled towards him and his eyes focused, and that was the kind of language he could translate into I want to hear you.

He was at David’s house- and he was never invited to people’s houses, ever, this was a first- and David was cooking dinner for everyone, and joy buzzed in his chest like honeybees, and that honeybee joy spilled out of him in facts and statistics in a steady stream of actually actually actually, and David didn’t stop him. “You know so much, I’d swear you’re Italian too, passerotto,” he said.

He wrinkled his nose, confused, and Emily tugged him to sit down on the barstool before he tipped over. “It means little sparrow, it’s a good thing,” she explained.

“It’s what we call our children,” David said, and he cupped his face in his hands and kissed both cheeks, and he beamed.

He was burning, fever crawling under his skin and twisting in his belly, and he wanted to lie down and sleep, but he couldn’t, he had other things to do and other things to worry about, he had grades that needed to stay impeccable in order to keep him in this school, he could sleep later. But Alex caught him by the shoulder, frowning, and pressed her hand against his forehead.

“You’re burning up,” she said, and he leaned into her cool hand, his eyes closing.

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, but she took him back to his room and tucked him into bed like the child that he was, and when he woke up calling for his mother that even in his haze he knew couldn’t answer, she held him on her lap and rocked him while he cried, and even though he couldn’t find words right then, he knew safe.

He didn’t know what to make of Hotch. There was a solemnity about him, an adultness that weighed heavy on his shoulders in an unspoken burden. But Hotch steered him quietly, unseen- prying his book from his hand when he stayed up late reading, scooping vegetables on his plate at dinner, replacing his hand-me-down clothes with new ones.

Hotch caught him in frustrated tears once, rolling off his cheeks in fat drops and plopping onto his homework, because a ten-year-old genius is still a ten-year-old, but he hated that he was crying, hated that he was acting like a baby, hated that he couldn’t stop.

But Hotch smeared his tears with his thumb, his dark eyes thoughtful. “You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know,” he said quietly.

“I have to,” he said, a sob catching in his throat like a trapped bird, suffocating him. “I always have to.”

Hotch shook his head. “No, you don’t,” he said. “You can rely on other people. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

“I have to,” he repeated. “I have to, I have to.”

Hotch stroked his hair back from his forehead. “We’re not going anywhere,” he said, and he spoke with a firm resolve that said I have stood where you stand. “Let’s take a break from the homework, okay? It’ll still be here in an hour.”

He had forgotten how to say I love you. But he had to learn how to hear it first before he could say it back, and he had to say it his own ways.

He knew Penelope was upset, even though objectively he knew it was just a television show, and even if it was canceled she could always watch the episodes. But her mascara was running down her cheeks in dark rivulets as she cried at the dinner table, and he hated to see her so sad, so he got her ice cream, a bowl of vanilla soft serve covered in a million colors of sprinkles, and she smiled for the first time all day. “Thank you, cherub,” she said, squeezing his hand, and he smiled back, pleased.

He figured out how to come up with things to make Derek laugh. No one had ever thought he was funny before, but Derek did, and his laughter was genuine and warm and bubbling, and the warmth spread to him too.

He learned to write back when JJ left him notes in her tidy cursive, scrawling back things that were important and things that weren’t on intricately folded squares of notebook paper, and he looked forward to hearing what she was saying, and he knew she looked forward to hearing what he said too.

He still shied away from bullies, and once in a crowded hallway he ducked behind Emily, grabbing hold of her jacket. She looked down at him with a frown, then followed his gaze at the boys looking for him, and she wrapped her arm tightly around his shoulders.

“Stick with me, passerotto,” she said, and he could hear the pride and the concern in her voice, and his fear subsided.

He got stuck on geometric proofs after a long day and a sleepless night, the shapes and numbers and words blurring in his vision, and he crumpled up the page, splintering the edges into his fingers. But after a moment he smoothed it back, the creaselines making faded scars and softening the paper, and carried it to James.

“Can you take a look at this?” he asked.

James set his book aside, marking the page. “Absolutely,” he said, leaning close to get a better look. “Geometry? Oh, yeah, that’s the worst. Let’s make a little sense out of it.”

And James’s calm voice soothed his ruffled feathers and shone a little clarity like a break in the clouds on a dark day, and of course, it all made sense now, and his frustration melted.

He joined the chess club, and he met new people, but he was proudest when David sat down to play with him. David was all impulse and passion and risky choices that didn’t always pay off, but he was still good, though rarely good enough to beat him. He beat most kids, even the oldest kids, too full of youthful joy to hide his light and blend in.

“Where’d you find him, Rossi?” another senior complained, smarting at another loss to the hands of a child too small for his feet touch the floor when he sat at the chessboard.

“We found him as a baby on the steps of St. Thaddeus,” David laughed, but he hugged him around his shoulders and ruffled his hair and basked in his glow like a proud older brother.

He spent a lot of time in the library. It was quiet and safe there, warm lamplight casting comfortable shadows as he sprawled on the floor with a book. Alex walked up and down the aisles as she shelved books, humming rock’n’roll under her breath like hymns in a cathedral, and he was content. Sometimes she took a break to sit down in one of the armchairs with a book of her own, and sometimes he crawled into her lap, seeking comfort, and she gave it freely, making space for him in her arms without questions.

He found safety in his circle, and the anchor of his circle was Hotch. Without fail he stood by him, catching the little things that used to slip through the cracks. He never went to bed hungry. He never went outside in the cold without a coat. He never stayed awake worrying if the electricity might get shut off again. The ground had stopped tilting beneath him.

He sat in the common room, kneeling on the chair as he leaned on the table to finish his essay, filling the page with his messy handwriting as rain tapped on the window. JJ sat next to him, working on the same essay for the same class, while Penelope’s paper had become a page of swirls and flowers. Derek was stretching on the floor, complaining happily about how difficult his last game had been. James and David bickered good-naturedly over a chessboard; Alex read through a thick novel in French as Emily, bored, wove lazy braids in her long red hair. Hotch half dozed on the couch, arms crossed over his chest, one side of his headphones tilted off his ear so he could still hear what was going on.

Spencer looked at his paper and frowned. “Hey, Dad?” he said.

Hotch didn’t open his eyes. “Yeah?” he said sleepily.

“Tomorrow’s Thursday, right?”

His eyes were still closed. “Yeah, tomorrow’s Thursday, kid,” he said. “You still have another day to get that essay done.”

Spencer leaned back. “That’s what I thought,” he said. “Thanks.”

JJ tapped her pen against her lower lip. “Did Spence just call Hotch ‘dad’?” she said, grinning.

“And did Hotch just answer to it?” Emily said.

Spencer smiled as he went back to his essay. He still didn’t know exactly how to say I love you, but he was fairly certain they all understood him.

[rkdoyoung]

✧ ✧ ✧  ━━━━━━━  & 헤어질 준비가 안됐어, WAIT A MINUTE                                               기다림은 너무 길은데 HAS NO LIMIT   —                                 TELL ME WHAT IS LOVE by D.O & YOO YOUNG JIN

note ! hover over song title for timestamp; click for outfit

he’s rooted in place after hearing his name, mind spinning, dizzying, making everything seem so surreal. he doesn’t even know how to react, nothing but a vague smile on his lips and the slow clapping of hands, and though he can’t see himself, he know he’s got an unmistakable look of disbelief on his face, but he can’t manage to shake it. there’s so much talent in the room, even from the fifty who have been eliminated, that he can’t believe he’s made it through.

but then it hits him. he’s heard his own name, hears hyojin’s, has heard every single name announced that’s moving on to the next stage, but the one name he wishes he’s heard, even above his own, is kim seungmin. eyes immediately dart to his side, only to find that seungmin has already made his way out. mindlessly, jooyoung follows after his little brother, guilt and panic and empathy all flow through his veins in a heavy concoction, clouding his mind as he reaches out and grabs his brother by the arms to stop him.

tears, he expected, perhaps anger, a deep frown, something, but what he gets is an inexplicably blank expression. jooyoung doesn’t know what to do. he’s never known what to do, and perhaps that’s one of his greatest flaws, and definitely one of his greatest regrets. he’s never known what to do with seungmin, how to fix this gap that’s only been growing over the years, how to make up for all the time he’d thrown out the window when he was living overseas and away from his family. he doesn’t know.

so he does what comes to mind first. he draws his brother into a hug, only holding onto him tighter when the younger struggles against him, and the crying starts and all jooyoung can do is continue to hold him in his arms and wait. wait as seungmin sobs and cries and lets out all his frustrations and anger and disappointment. there’s nothing he can say to help the situation at this very moment, so he remains silent, hoping he’s helping, even if just a little bit.

after it seems seungmin has calmed down a bit, jooyoung goes to find hyojin, and the three of them get into the car. it’s a quiet ride, and seungmin is still wordless even as he gets out of the car and into his apartment. to see his own little brother like that, to be so clueless as to how to help, how to make it easier or better, it breaks his heart.

if there were some way he could trade places right now, to give up his spot so that seungmin could move on, he would. he would give it up in a heartbeat.

but as cruel as it sounds, the show must go on, and he has a lot of work to do. he has to keep going, try even harder, make it as far as he can because seungmin couldn’t, because they had denied his little brother the opportunity he deserved, and yet here he was, so against living the idol lifestyle he wasn’t even sure if he’d take a contract. no one could ever be sure that if he hadn’t auditioned at all, it would mean seungmin would have gotten in, but it doesn’t matter. now he has has to continue on. he has to make it count.

he dedicates a whole night after work to going through his music library, letting it play on shuffle, writing down potential songs to sing for the next episode. he’s gone through several sheets of paper filled with lines and lines of songs, and he’s begun to think he’d have to spend another night doing just this, but then that song begins to play. a smile slowly curves on his lips and his body begins to sway to the smooth r&b tempo. it’s one hundred percent his style, but still palatable for the general public, and is a song that would be able to showcase his vocal talents more than the previous song’s mashup.

the rest of the week he spends practicing, using every chance he has to sing: at work, he’s working his vocal cords between clients and during meal breaks, at home, he’s belting during chores, cooking, and he swears he’s even begun singing in his sleep. for the first time in his life, he’s even started practicing in front of a mirror, watching his expressions, making sure he’s giving off exactly the impression he wishes.

the day before the recording he spends trying to relax, hoping it’ll help him with his nerves for the actual day of the episode filming. he calls off of work and sleeps in for most of the morning, then spends lunch at a dog cafe for a couple of hours before heading home to play some video games. before bed, he has a cup of herbal tea and even puts on a face mask, something he hadn’t done in months due to pure laziness about skin care.

the day of the recording, he manages to remain calm on the drive there, but as soon as he’s standing outside of the building, he’s hit with a wave of memories that brings back every nervous emotion he’d experienced on the first broadcast filming. the amount of contestants left is only half of what it had been, making the space seem bigger and him feel smaller.

the most notable difference, though, is that his little brother is still nowhere to be found. this ignites a newfound sense of invigoration within him, reminds him that he has someone to perform for, even if seungmin won’t be watching. with a sharp inhale, he walks inside and takes an empty seat.

while waiting for the show to begin, he sees a shadow come over him, and he stares upward to see none other than choi minho, the man whose man tiddiez he’d been blabbering about in the interviews last week (thank god they hadn’t aired any of that). immediately, an almost nervous smile blooms on his face as he bows in greeting.

“hey, do you have ig?”

the question posed to him throws him off for a split second, because it’s not what he expects at all. after a short recovery, he nods his head. “yeah, @iankim,” he responds. it’s not long until his phone chimes, and he fishes it out of pocket to see not only a friend request, but a dm notification as well.

can i slide into that seat next to you like i slid into ur dms

he bursts out into laughter at the message, nodding his head in confirmation as he sweeps his hand over the empty seat next to him. “it’s all yours, man,” he says rather than types back. he takes the next few moments to go through the man’s instagram before casually leaning over with a cheeky grin to say, “anyone ever tell you that you’re a thirst trap?”

he’s glad for the distraction that minho’s presence provides as they go through each other’s instagrams and make fun of each other’s posts because time goes by quickly, and before he knows it, the time for the performances to start has begun. he tries his best to keep his energy at a steady medium, but the closer it gets to his turn to perform, the more nervous he gets. he’s done auditions before, but it’s never been this bad, fists wound up tight in an effort to keep himself from falling apart.

hyojin goes up just before he does, and he gives just as much gusto cheering for his cousin as he did last week, perhaps even more now that he has one last person to cheer for and embarrass. he’s thankful that he has someone he knows going before him; it gives him a sense of home, as if they’re both just hanging out at a family gathering, singing without any of the pressure, enjoying themselves.

when it finally comes his turn to perform, he takes a deep breath and looks to his left side to see mason sitting there. for some reason, his fellow contestant’s presence helps calm him even more, the thought of their exchanges earlier pulling an amused smile onto his face. just as he’s about to make his way on stage, his phone vibrates in his pocket, and he has half a mind to ignore it. there’s something tugging at his heartstrings, though, and he chooses to pull it out as he’s walking toward the stage. what he sees fills him with a renewed strength and confidence, and a wide grin blooms on his face as he texts his little brother back.

the first two times, he’d used his guitar as a crutch, using it for comfort and as a sort of buffer in case they decided his voice alone wasn’t good enough, but this time, he’s left both his instruments at home, and he hopes his decision to do so won’t come around to bite him in the ass. this time, it’s just him, the audience, the microphone, and his voice, and he hopes it’s enough.

“hey, what’s up? it’s me, ya boi. kim jooyoung.” he introduces himself again, apparently never tiring of making references to videos or movies he’s scene that may or may not go over the judges’ heads. “i intend to show a different side of me today. i hope you like this side, too.”

with a smile, he settles into place, and the music begins. the intro is filled with adlibs by the original singers, and he takes liberties with the section, deciding to completely forego the original and go with his own adlibs and vocal runs, putting his own flare and feeling into it, showcasing what he thinks is the best of his abilities while still keeping up with the natural tempo and feel of the song.

나를 사랑하지 않는 너를 잊은 채 as i forgot about you who doesn’t love me 하고 싶었던 모든걸 하고 살아도 i live doing everything that i wanted to do 머릿속에 넌 절대 지워지지가 않아 i can’t ever erase you from my head 도대체 why?

he’s never quite experienced the exact feelings the lyrics portray in the song, but he’s definitely felt that deep emotional rut before, of being unable to forget, of being haunted by memories he’d no longer be able to experience. he channels that instead, using his tumultuous ups and downs with his search for fame and fortune as the emotional basis for his performance. after all, that feeling of hitting rock bottom is the same for everyone, no matter the source.

대답 없는 널 자꾸 불러도 i keep calling for you but you’re answerless 메아리만 돌아와… and only echoes keep coming back to me…

he immerses himself in this universe, of being left in the dark by someone or something that he loves, the loneliness, the denial, the hatred and anger. his eyes close as he sings, his hands coming up to grasp at the microphone, seeming to caress it as he sings into it. his eyes open, gazing directly into the camera as he cups the microphone in one hand as the other goes down to grasp at the actual stand, holding onto it tightly as if he would never let go. it’s a stand in for what he sings and yearns for in the song, using the microphone as a prop to further engage the audience and himself.

내 눈을 보며 말했던 like you told me while gazing into my eyes 두 글자가 낙인처럼 아파 와 the two letters hurt like humiliation 내 맘이 그걸 알게 됐는데 my heart finally knows oh, tell me, what is love? tell me, what is love?

the chorus serves as a natural climax to his performance, emotions escalating as the push behind the lyrics does, his body swaying naturally to the rhythm. his inexperience with love helps here as he asks the question of what love is because he is certainly unsure, in all aspects, of what love is. 

tell me what is love

as the song comes to a close, he belts out one last adlib, holding the final note and letting it fall in an effortless decrescendo just as the music does. once both the music and the sound of his voice have completely disappeared, he allows his hands to slide off the microphone and drop to his sides, still in character, dejected and alone.

he stands there for a few moments, basking in it all, absorbing the moment to remember it forever, not knowing if this will be his final performance on this stage or not.

he may not know what he’d do if given the opportunity to sign with a company or not, but he’s certain of one thing: he doesn’t want this to end, and perhaps that’s a sign. perhaps it doesn’t matter how or with whom he signs.

perhaps, in the end, he’s happy as long as he’s performing. any stage is enough.

[fullmetalscullyy]

trapped in a bank during a holdup au

this one stemmed from an au post I saw on here and then blossomed into a (slightly adjusted) retelling of an episode of The X-Files. You don’t need to have seen the episode or the series, don’t worry!

read on ao3 and ffnet

Central’s main bank was business as usual on this breezy autumn Monday. The tellers looked thoroughly bored. The customers even more so as they waited. The security guards lounged about chatting to one another rather than actually making sure premises was secure. Roy frowned. If they were MPs he would have them sent back to HQ faster than they could blink but this was private security.

Still, they should be doing their fucking jobs.

“Who crapped in your cereal this morning?” Havoc joked with a wry smile as he stormed into the office half an hour late.

He really didn’t need this right now.

“Shut it, Havoc.”

“Oh, touchy.”

He suppressed a growl of anger.

“Sir,” Hawkeye greeted him. He could just tell by the look on her face she was going to question his tardiness. Again, he really didn’t need this today. Because when he woke up he found his apartment flooded. His foot went straight into the soaking carpet, the squelching sound rousing him immediately from the last of his sleep.

What the fuck?

His morning was spent wading through his apartment, desperately trying to salvage as much as he good before yelling on the phone to the maintenance guy. Luckily nothing too important had been damaged. All his alchemy books were safe, thank god.

So yes, he was a grouchy bastard this morning. Especially now that he had to run to the bank on his lunch break and take out money so he could stay in a hotel tonight. Those in charge of military accommodation were fickle beings when it came to money but assured him his apartment would be fixed as soon as possible. “As soon as possible” could range from the end of the week to two weeks.

Either that or he pay for it himself. Stingy bastards. He had given so much for this military already. They weren’t getting another cent of his damn money.

Still bitter about wasting his lunch hour Roy sullenly drove to the bank. Central Bank was a magnificent building. It had been built over two hundred years ago. The architecture was stunning but Roy had no time for that today. He should probably have brought Hawkeye along but she was out of the office when he left and he couldn’t be bothered waiting.

Besides, this would only take ten minutes.

Ten minutes stretched onto thirty and Roy was only half way down the line. His foot tapped impatiently in the line as he checked his pocket watch.

Hawkeye was going to kill him.

And it looked like he would be going hungry today. Maybe Breda could swipe him a sandwich from the mess hall?

“Everybody,” someone announced from behind him. “Everybody get down!”

Roy turned, his brow furrowing in confusion. The shout came from somebody who was incredibly nervous. They stumbled over their words. However when Roy noticed the man, his stomach dropped. A gun was held in front of him – albeit it was shaking – and he was pointing it at every individual in the building.

“Don’t press any alarms,” he stuttered. “Or I will shoot you!”

First his apartment, now this.

God was up there fucking doubled over in laughter today.

No alarms sounded, only terrified gasps and cries. One woman pleaded with the assailant, only for a dark look to cross over his face, pointing the gun in her face, that nervousness clearly gone. The woman lowered herself down submissively but continued to cry.

Shit!

“You!” he barked, gun training on Roy. He froze in the movement of reaching for his pockets, where his gloves were. “Hands where I can see them!” Roy complied. “Does anyone know you are here?”

He could lie and say no. He hadn’t really told his team where he was going specifically. Just that he was going out. Plus, storming out of the room, his bad mood following him like a thunder cloud, left no room for them to ask.

Hawkeye would have asked though if she had been there.

He was such a dumbass.

“Yes. My team are arriving in ten minutes time.”

The assailant’s eyes widened. Licking his lips nervously he readjusted his grip on the fire arm.

It was a lie. But it might just save his life.

Before he could contemplate it any further the front door of the bank opened and very pissed looking Hawkeye walked in. Oh, she was definitely going to kill him. Roy’s eyes widened as the assailant turned towards the noise, gun shifting with him. His finger depressed the trigger slightly.

“Hawkeye!” He was unable to stop himself. His hands dove for his pockets but he never made it. His body jerked backwards as an immense force was applied to his left shoulder. Screams sounded around him. Hawkeye yelled. His vision swam as he fell backwards and hit the floor painfully. The action caused even more pain to erupt in his shoulder. Someone was crying very close to his head. Bodies surrounded him on the floor. Warmth and wetness seeped into his uniform jacket.

“Sir!” Hawkeye called. The desperation in her voice dragged him back from the greying circle that was surrounding his vision. He gasped, heaving in a breath despite his body fighting the painful movement. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t wrap his head around what had happened. Shock was setting into his being, blinding and deafening him to all that was happening in the bank.

A hand gripped his shoulder. Another clasped the fingers of his good arm. He turned his head and saw wide, terrified eyes staring back at him. Recognition was there too. They knew who he was. The hand curling around his fingers nudged them towards his pockets.

Right. His gloves.

“Stop right there or I will shoot you too!”

No. No. He couldn’t. Not Hawkeye. He couldn’t take her. His fingers twitched as he shuddered. The process was slow and arduous, the pain making him almost black out.

“Stop!”

“Can I at least help him? He is going to die!” A woman was above his head. Apparently permission had been granted by the assailant because his head was lifted gently and onto a set of thighs. The woman’s eyes stared back into his. She looked distraught. His eyes tried to shoot back to the action, but it was like they were coated in syrup. Every movement was such an effort.

Hawkeye was standing gun raised and poised to kill, pointing at the assailant. He was the same, but his hands were shaking.

Riza’s hands never shook. That had only happened in Ishval.

One night she had sought him out because it had become uncontrollable. He had grasped them tightly and held her while she tried to sleep. He ignored the tears that had stained his uniform. He ignored the way her breath shuddered as she cried. Instead he whispered to her about their shared time together in her father’s house. About that time he had successfully patched up the roof only to fall down the ladder and onto his ass. The first time he ever heard Riza laugh. About that time they had gotten lost in the forest behind her house and had stumbled back into the house after midnight, both exhausted but exhilarated after their “dangerous” adventure. They had shared a grin before parting ways to sleep. In the days following they had shared secretive looks about their time in the forest, whispering to each other about it so her father wouldn’t overhear their shenanigans.

The only thing was, that made her cry harder.

Roy found himself wanting that same feeling of holding her, content, back. Right now. As his blood seeped out of his body slowly, eyes zeroed in on the woman he loved he lamented about how he had never properly said the words he had wanted to for years. They were always in the forefront of his mind, just waiting to be spoken. What made it harder was she was constantly around.

By this point in their life, after ten years of being together, they both knew how the other felt.

But he needed to say it. He needed to tell her like he needed the air that was dragging past his lips right now.

Suddenly the events that had transpired that morning felt very trivial.

Hawkeye’s gaze flicked to his momentarily. He gasped as he saw the raw pain and terror in them. She was afraid for him. Hawkeye never looked afraid. That was what worried him.

The assailant tore at his jacket, revealing a bomb strapped his chest.

Muffled screams filled the bank once more. People were sobbing outright now. Roy’s breathing stuttered. The hand on his shoulder tightened and the woman above rose a hand to her mouth in horror. The fingers wrapped around his twitched, pushing them right into his pockets this time while the assailant’s attention was diverted.

Right. His gloves.

“Put down the gun,” the assailant slowly commanded. His hand was already on the bomb around his chest. A flick of his fingers and the whole place would go up.

Well, he couldn’t let that happen. Too many people had died on his watch. No more.

The hand in his pocket helped him put his glove on as quickly as he dared. His vision was greying once again. Shit. This wasn’t good. He needed to concentrate. One wrong movement, one wrong through, could set them all alight.

He watched in horror as Hawkeye raised her hands in surrender. The assailant gripped his gun tighter, nervous. She lowered it to the ground and backed away slowly. Her eyes found his across the room. He was drifting too much to be able to see clearly the emotions within them.

“Can I have one last word with him?”

“Why?” he barked.

Riza’s face set in anger. “He is dying and he is my commanding officer. Please.”

Silence stretched out before them, seemingly unending. Or maybe it was just unending to him because of the pain wracking his body.

“Fine.”

“Sir?” Hawkeye called. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” he rasped.

This was dangerous. What was she thinking?

“I forgot to tell you. Isla came by the office and dropped off some files. She said she and Lorraine were thinking of going out for lunch. She wondered if you would like to join them?”

His pain addled brain heard their code and registered it. A smile played on his lips.

I love you too, Riza.

“He’s not going anywhere,” the assailant replied nervously. His voice rose. “None of you are!”

Hawkeye’s eyes bored into his and he returned the same courtesy. If this all went wrong then the last thing he wanted to see was her.

He snapped, sucking out the oxygen from around the bomber. He gasped, hands flying to his throat. Riza scooped down low and shot him, incapacitating him. Screams echoed around the deathly silent room for a final time.

To give the guards their due, as soon as the assailant was on the ground they scrambled up and pounced on his prone form. If Roy wasn’t about to pass out he would have laughed.

Not so useless after all.

“Sir!” Hawkeye cried and sprinted over to him. Falling to her knees her face was suddenly very close. Good. If he was going to die he wanted it to be near her. It was selfish. That would traumatise her. But common sense went out the window when you were shot, he discovered.

Someone else entered his field of view. His Lieutenant and the newcomer shared a few words.

“I’m a doctor.” Hawkeye nodded and moved out of his way as he placed pressure on his shoulder wound, barking at someone to phone an ambulance. Roy groaned and Hawkeye’s gaze snapped to the doctors. He could almost hear the growl on her lips.

“He is going to be fine,” the doctor assured Hawkeye. “The bullet exited cleanly. I just need to hold this pressure to stop him from losing too much blood. Once he is at the hospital he will get stitched up and be right as rain.”

Roy found his demeanour far too cheery for a situation like this. But he didn’t care because Riza Hawkeye was holding onto his hand for dear life, her thumb brushing his knuckles. He focussed on that sensation and that sensation only.

“I got your message Lieutenant. Loud and clear.”

Her lips quirked up into a smile, posture relaxing slightly. Sirens began to sound louder in the distance.

“You will be okay,” she breathed. “You will be okay.”

He chuckled but is sounded like a gasp. He was the one who was supposed to give orders, not her.

So, a different ending but that was because I wanted to up the angst ;)

Names after the episode “Monday” (6x14) of The X-Files. Go watch it because it is honestly one of my favourites.

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

3. Pleased to meet you a. k. a. androids, reserved groupies, gentlemen and rude boys (Part One)

„Mom, are you asleep?” I whisper as I sneak in her room.

“Not anymore…” she sighs. “I’ve hoped since you turned five that one day you’ll realize how unnecessary this question is…”

“Sorry… I…I go back to sleep…” I feel suddenly guilty for waking her up in the middle of the night.

“I’m just kidding, come here, sweetie!”

I slip under the cover on the other side of the bed and crawl next to her. I can’t understand how she can still sleep in this large bed. Effie and I have maintained the habit of sometimes visiting Mom’s bed when we want to feel like children again, which is maybe pathetic and implies the urgent need of a psychotherapist but makes me feel safer than anything. I smell Dad’s scent on the pillow, which is probably only the cruel product of my mind as the cover of it got washed at least two hundred times since then. I swallow a salty teardrop to prevent myself from crying.

“Mom…”

“Hm?”

“I can’t sleep…”

“Of course you can’t sleep. If you could I would start worrying if you got kidnapped by aliens who put you through a brainwashing or replaced you with an android.” she remarks sleepily.

“Thanks… do you even know what androids are?” I slap back.

“Who do you think I am? Of course I know. Mr. Taylor is a huge sci-fi fan so every time I visit him he makes me check the whole building since he’s convinced that aliens are hiding in his home. Once he even got me to crawl under his bed, of course I didn’t find any aliens. But what I did find were his denture for which we had been looking desperately for almost two weeks. As for androids, he suspected me being one as well since I bought him raspberry yoghurt by chance instead of the strawberry-flavored sort which is his favorite. So please, don’t question my knowledge about androids.”

“And how can you be sure that I’m not an android who’s trying to trick you by saying she can’t sleep?”

“I give up… You’re worse than my clients…” she yawns.

“But at least I can change my own diaper without help…” I snicker, which makes her snort too.

“So what’s the matter? You’re already stressed out by the possible events of the next few months?”

“I don’t know. If something happened to Effie while I’m away and I couldn’t help her, I would never forgive myself.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty for leaving us. Actually, I’ve never told you but I’m as much concerned about you as about Effie’s health.”

“About me? But I’m okay, I’m healthy, I have a degree…”

“But you’re lonely and you live like a recluse. I’ve never heard you mentioning any friends from New York, you don’t see your high school friends anymore, you don’t have colleagues who you could go out with…”

“But Effie is actually my best friend, and…” I cut her off.

“I’m happy for having such wonderful daughters who are inseparable but you should start building your own life too…”

“Oh no, it’s about the “find a husband” thing, isn’t it? I can’t believe…” I sigh.

“No, ford God’s sake, no! I just think you narrow your world to your work and us and I don’t want you to feel later that you didn’t collect enough experiences…”

“With guys?”

“With everything! You don’t go out, you don’t travel anywhere, you don’t date but you’re 24. These supposed to be your most memorable years, don’t waste them, you’re can finally drink legally without any grey hairbreadth!” she nudges me encouraging. “But that’s why I’m glad you accepted the job offer. For the record, Effie agrees with me on that, she’s pretty much psyched about the whole thing and at least her brain is full of these thoughts instead of…”

“I know, she doesn’t leave me alone with her daydreaming… But those people seem to be quite different than me… I don’t know any of them but Karrie… They are probably surrounded by party faces who dance on the table or smoke one joint after the other. Not to mention the job part of it…”

“Why do you try to convince yourself about having made a wrong decision? You haven’t even met “those people” yet! Besides, I’ve known for some time you want to do something surprising, something that is out of your comfort zone. When you came out of your room after the conversation with Karrie, I saw on your face that this was it! But for some reasons you play your compulsory hesitation this time too…”

“Mom?” I interrupt her, not because she’s not right but because I know she can’t help me to get rid of this feeling. “How did you know it?”

“I’m your mother and mothers know everything. Or, I’m an android who can read in peoples mind. Or, both of us are androids and we were programmed by the same person, which created a special connection between us. But androids need to spend some time in sleep mode too…”

“Okay, I get it… Good night, Mom!”

“Good night, my android roadie!”

***

“Carefully with the old bag, my dear!” Granny moans while I’m trying to help her to get out of the car. Mom stands already at the trunk to hand her enormous backpack to Judy. It‘s almost larger than Judy although she sorted its content at least three times to reduce it to the most necessary clothes and personal belongings. Anyway, she’s to spend her next months with guys who share their stuffs and have worn the same shirts probably for months so it was easy to convince her about keeping her luggage as modest as possible. With a few necessary precautions…

Judy looks paler than usual and this effect is multiplied by the dark shadows around her eyes. She spent the last two weeks with preparing for her new job and to stay true to herself she took it very seriously. After the interview she literally panicked and begged me to call Victor, my former high school classmate who works at Rock Candy so that he would show her the basics of a sound system and the tasks of a rock band’s staff. She hung out there after work almost every evening and in the remaining time she was listening to Ten and the tapes with unreleased songs that Krisha gave her until she learnt them to the last note. She got labeled as a nerd by her classmates for reason, her perfectionism made her immediately worrying about the possible expectations of her new employers. But it’s kinda cute how tenacious she tried to become a perfect monitor engineer in two weeks with the same enthusiasm as she studied for being the valedictorian of her class. She can’t do anything in a low-key way.

As we enter the main hall of Sea-Tac Airport I notice that the check-in counter of Judy’s flight to Cleveland has already been opened. Get it over with fast, I don’t want to get too emotional. It’s inevitable, though, Granny will start crying anyway and Mom always cries when Granny cries and so on…

“I’ve got something for you, Sis!” I turn to Judy. I almost forgot about it, the other thing was on my mind all evening...

“Do I want to know about it?” she asks pretending to be desperate.

“It’s very funny… You don’t even deserve it. I’ve changed my mind, I keep it.” I shake my head reprovingly.

“A present? But you needn’t have…”

“It’s a very useful present, if I were you I’d take it…” Mom winks at me.

“So… I think you’ll know for what purpose… ” I place a small package onto Judy’s palm.

As she opens the little box wrapped in paper and recognizes its content her face lights up immediately.

“A mini tape recorder! Effie, this is awesome!” she captures me in a rib-breaking hug.

“But there’s a rule! I want to hear the newest stuffs while you’re away. There are more tapes, we can manage somehow that you always have one with you for recording your ideas. As I receive a tape I copy it and send it back to you, okay?”

“I don’t want to get them lost, we have to figure out the exact method… I don’t know if I’ll be able to find time to record my ideas... or if I’ll have ideas at all, I count with busy days… But if I won’t, I still can use it to that groupie thing!” she raises her eyebrows quickly a few times referring to our recent conversation.

“I’m sure that surrounded by so many musicians you’ll have more ideas than ever…”

“Just don’t forget to eat, sweetie.” Granny warns her. “When you’re busy, you tend to forget to eat. Didn’t you forget your sandwiches at home, did you?” Granny’s biggest fear before travels is that we’ll starve to death so she always makes sure if we have a detailed plan about our meals at least five days in advance.

“Granny, if I wasn’t able to get food when I’m hungry, I would have already died due to natural selection!” Judy gently strokes her shoulders but when Granny begins to share her advice and warnings, nobody can stop her.

“And be cautious with those men! Don’t let yourself get drugged and seduced!” Here we are; the Granny Show has started. I think my favorite part comes right next… I glance at Mom and I can see she’s trying to repress her laughter, just like me. By the way, Granny is always right…

“Those men? Granny, they’re just guys in their twenties!”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about young lady!” Granny pokes Judy in the chest with her index finger. She leans closer to her and keeps pestering her more quietly. “Judy, my little star, it’s so embarrassing to ask this but someone has to do it… Do you have ‘that thing’ in your bag, don’t you?” Oh my God, this episode is better than I’ve thought.

“That thing? What is ‘that thing’?” Judy asks back suspecting she doesn’t want to know the answer.

“ ‘That thing’… you know… if it still happens… you have to take precautions, young men are so irresponsible nowadays… You know, I watch TV a lot, I’ve already heard a lot about that AIDS disease…” I see that Judy realized in the meantime what Granny was trying to say but she wants to trap her with the topic she came up with.

“Granny, I’m more and more confused. Please be more specific!” Judy plays the uncomprehending, innocent little girl. Mom turns in the direction of the departures board but the shaking of her shoulders reveals her.

“Judy, my dear, I’m talking about… you know…” Judy keeps waiting with an amused smile for her uttering the end of the sentence. “Condom!” she whispers in horror and at this point Mom, Judy and I erupt into a loud laughter, which makes her more embarrassed than the word she’s just said.

“First of all, I don’ think I would need ‘that thing’. I’m supposed to work with them, like ‘work’, literally. But if I still would, it’s rather the guy’s responsibility to be prepared. Aaand, if he’s not prepared but I can’t resist the temptation, there are bunch of ways of having fun to which you don’t need ‘that thing’. I’m sure you’re being a widow with one daughter and two granddaughters, there’s nothing new for you, Granny.” Judy grins, which makes Granny get close to fainting. Of course I know that Judy’s cheeky remark about sexual alternatives was only meant to freak her out, I’m sure as hell she would chicken out if someone tried to get so close to her that she would need ‘that thing’. But Granny is always right… And I took the precautions, Granny, even if you think you’re the only responsible adult in this family…

“Sorry Granny, I adore how much you’re concerned about me, I just can’t shut my big mouth.” she embraces her. “But I think I should go…” Judy is still wiping the teardrops of laughter from her eyes. Or are those already different kinds of teardrops?

While Judy is standing in the cue, I exchange a bitter look with Mom. Until now I was focused on Judy’s exciting perspectives and ignored the fact that I would miss her. Fuck, I’ll miss her a lot…

After finishing the check-in process she kisses and hugs all of us in a suspiciously short time and before we could get really touched she sets off with quick steps for the security check. Before entering the security zone she turns back for a second, sends an awkward wave to us and disappears in the crowd immediately.

***

“Sir… excuse me, sir… EXCUSE ME!” I have to repeat the same sentence more times, as usual. People at public places usually can’t hear me when I’m speaking to them, or even if they can, they misunderstand what I’ve said, which often leads to miswritten names, misheard numbers, wrongly taken orders.

“Oh, sorry… Good afternoon, Madame, may I help?”

The receptionist of the hotel turns to me distracted, as if he had woken up from a deep dream.

“As far as I know, I have a reservation for this night.”

“Your name, please?”

“Camden, Judith Emilia.”

“A moment, please… would you repeat it?”

I can’t believe that.

“Camden. C, A, M, D, E, N.” I spell and I can hear my voice getting sharper.

“Sorry, I can’t find your name in the book.”

“It’s maybe a group reservation. I’m a crew member of Pearl Jam.” I explain.

Suddenly his expression changes and his lips form a patronizing smile.

“I’m afraid, in that case I can’t help you, Miss Camden.” he closes the book with a quick move.

“How do you mean…?”

“Well, you’ve been the fifteenth female person today who claims being a stuff member of Pearl Jam.” he emphasizes the word “female” in a mocking tone, which makes me clear what he’s thinking about me. I feel my cheeks reddening. This damn blushing… Even if I don’t have any reason for feeling embarrassed…

“Look, I’m not like those female guests, I have my contract in my bag, I have every single document…” I try to get him to open the book again.

“I’m sorry Miss Camden, but our main principle is discretion, I have to follow strict rules, I’m only allowed to let in persons who arrive with the band or with their manager. You don’t need to show any documents, I can’t help you, I can’t make any exceptions.” he rejects my attempt.

I stare perplexed and frozen at him. But I decide not to beg him and every single brain cell of mine starts searching for a plan ‘B’. Should I call Krisha? She gave me her office number… But if I called her, she would think I’m a loser with the problem solving skills of a pupil in the second grade… The crew is probably not here; Karrie told me something about an afternoon sound check… Yes, this is it! Krisha gave me a list with the names, addresses and phone numbers of the clubs where the band plays the remaining shows of the US tour. If I called the club, I could ask if they’re still there and maybe I could join them…

“Thank you, I really appreciate you efforts, good bye!” I tweet to him and leave the lobby almost cheerful, relieved by my idea. The receptionist gazes puzzled after me, probably the other female persons weren’t so happy after getting thrown out…

I slam into the first phone booth, throw my backpack on the ground and tear off the thick folder from its backside. After a short search I find the number I need and I dial it impatiently. After a few ringing I hear a bored male voice on the other end of the line.

“Peabody’s Down Under…”

This time I’m more cautious.

“Hello, I’m Krisha Augerot from Curtis Management. I would like to talk with Karrie Keyes, from the Pearl Jam crew, it’s very urgent. Are they still rehearsing?” I try to sound impressive.

“Yes, they’re still here, I’ll look for her, hold the line, please…”

I hear a deep boom from the background, the band probably started playing in the meantime.

“Krisha? Hi, what happened? Is everything okay?” Karrie breaths heavily, she must have hurried to the phone.

“Calm down, Karrie, it’s just me, Judy!” I snicker.

“Judy???”

“Yes, don’t ask anything… I had problems with the check-in at the hotel so I decided to use an alias…”

“Problems? Alias?”

“Yeah, the receptionist took me for a groupie or what…”

“Hahaha, you? For a groupie?” she giggles. I feel somehow a little bit offended, although as I look down at myself I have to acknowledge I’m not the archetype of band chasing butterflies. My braids, my glasses, my long, brown and loose dress which ends where my docs begin…

“Hey, the world needs reserved groupies too, they’re also valuable members of society!” I defend myself. “Anyway, the thing is that I can’t check in so I thought I joined you at the club. Is it far from the hotel?”

“No, only a couple blocks away, a few minutes on foot. I tell you how to get here, listen…”

***

I’m standing in front of the stage and watching them play. Right after the last chords of “Even flow” Stone walks to Eddie shaking his head.

“You fucked up again at the beginning of the second chorus. You fucked up at the same part even during our first show, which wasn’t a big deal because we played for survival but we’ve already played this damn thing for one and a half year…”

“Because Dave’s fuckin’ cymbal noises drive me crazy, I can’t focus on anything… And that damn smoke kills my throat…” Eddie slaps back nettled glancing angrily at Dave.

“Hey, you’ve forbidden me to smoke on the bus, which I’ve accepted so I would appreciate if you didn’t want to crucify me for having a few cigarettes anywhere else…” Dave joins the quarrel in a sharp tone.

“A few cigarettes? You fume like a fuckin’ smokestack!” Eddie yells at him.

“Interesting, nobody complains about the suffocating sweet smell of Jeff’s incenses. I’ve already given up counting my allergic reactions to them, I’m basically suffering during the journeys, over and above my wrists hurt like hell. But my problems don’t seem to be as important as those of the others…”

“Hey man, at least I try to do something for our living conditions! That fuckin’ bus smells like a polecat hole, the ape house in the zoo is a rose garden in comparison to that!”

“A hole of alcoholic polecats, to be exact. Mike, you should do something with your messy shirts, they smell of vomit… And if you think that we haven’t noticed that you’re basically hiding a whole bar under your bed, you’re wrong.” Stone targets Mike this time.

“Hey, they’re for sterilization…” Mike tries to explain himself.

“If you don’t want to produce little McCreadys during the tour, just cut your balls off or wash your feet wearing socks!” Stone misunderstands his words intentionally. “Anyway, has anybody seen my guitar tuner?” he asks out of character.

“A missing object again? Seriously Stone, you should see an expert, this level of obliviousness is already pathological. I’ve got fed up with the whole band’s searching for your shit…” Eddie attacks him.

“I wouldn’t be oblivious if I could sleep more but I have to babysit Mike every single night, I get into the bed basically in the morning, I need intravenous caffeine, it’s no wonder I’m insane…”

“Hey, nobody asked you to babysit me!”

“Nobody asked me, but I don’t want to be executed by the furious crowd after we announce we canceled the show since we had left our lead guitarist dancing naked in front of the McDonalds in the last town.”

Everybody shouts with everybody. The roads glance at each other helplessly, they shrug and with that move they basically decide not to intervene. As I turn back I see a short and slim young girl staring the guys on stage with a scared face. She carries a giant backpack – as much as I know about the laws of physics she should fall back from its weight. She might be the new girl…

“Aren’t they supposed to be friends? What if they were enemies…” she asks with a questioning expression.

“They’re just sick of touring… Imagine spending months with the same people, even if they’re your friends… You would probably want to kill them in the cruelest ways…” I step to her.

“I hope this verbal crowd fight won’t get physical. If the singer and the bassist teamed up, the drummer might have a chance to survive but those two bags of bones…” she shakes her head.

“Yeah, the coroner would have a hard job while collecting their residues with a spoon… maybe a mop and a bucket could help…” I grin.

“But the relatives might be able to identify them from their teeth…”

“Or from their internal organs… like ‘oh my God, that liver looks familiar, he had his father’s liver!” we both snicker. In the meantime the guys begin to play ‘Porch’ and as Eddie counts in she clicks with her tongue a few times. “That’s too fast… If the drummer doesn’t take back from the pace the guitarists’ hands will ignite…” Okay, she must be the new girl… “Okay, what’s that guy doing?” she asks when Eddie starts performing a reduced version of his usual climbing show on Jeff’s amplifier to jump back on the stage. As he touches down he loses his balance, ends up on the ground and stays there rolling back and forth. “Is he performing scenes from The Exorcist? I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned out to eat roads for breakfast…”

“Hahaha, I don’t think so!” I giggle, and I decide to delay a bit revealing who I am. I like this girl. I can finally talk with someone sincerely, she’s objective, she doesn’t know who I am and I’m fed up with polite and diplomatic lies which are addressed to Eddie Vedder’s faceless girlfriend.

“If I hadn’t listened to their songs earlier, I wouldn’t understand a word from the lyrics…” she remarks during the last chorus.

“And do you like their lyrics?’ I ask curiously.

“Uhm… A little bit too much of fucked up childhood and family issues, or at least for my taste but it’s definitely a good point that they’ve broken up with the infinite permutation of the girls-cars-drugs combo… Although the singer should take care of his voice, his tone is very unique but he basically yells. On one hand, it sounds flat and on the other hand I guess he’ll have voice problems within one month…”

If you knew… Eddie overstrained his vocal chords a few times in the last weeks. He would have needed a break after the European tour but they didn’t have much time to recover before the next one in the U.S.

“Maybe I can convince him about it.” I smile because the song ends in the meantime. “I’m Beth, Eddie’s girlfriend.” I offer my hand.

“What? Shit… I thought you belong to the club’s staff! I didn’t mean to…Sorry…” she shakes my hand confused. “Anyway, I’m Judy, Karrie’s second cousin.”

“I know; you’re the new girl everybody talks about. And you don’t need to apologize, I appreciate honest opinions… But I think it’s time you introduced yourself to the others!” I push her gently towards the stage.

[divine-draws]

@weirdlyhuman said

keith and lance and the letter Q!! i lvoe your art btw its so amazing!!!

----

aaaa first off thank you 💜💜 second i had fun with this prompt!!!

----

“One Missed Call”

“This is Keith,” his voice stuttered as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say next, the background filled with the murmur of other conversations. “Leave a message after the tone.”

Beeeeep.

Lance frowned, pulling his phone away from his face. He held it above himself and studied the call screen for a moment before hitting the red button to end the call. No answer.. He dropped his arm, phone still clutched in his hand, to his side before pushing himself to sit up in his bed. No answer. Before his mind could jump to conclusions (Who was he kidding it already had. Did he get in an accident? Did he just get tired of Lance finally?) Lance held his phone up again to shoot him a text.

Loverboy: hey!

Loverboy: i guess you’re busy?? call me back when you’re free!

Loverboy: 💙💙💙

The thing was.. Keith never missed their phone calls, and if he did he always let Lance know. They’ve been doing these calls for, shit, some time now. Long distance relationships weren’t always the ideal (Lance can easily recall nights were they would video chat while Lance curled up into a ball and cried some, wanting nothing more than to be there in Keith’s arms and that went both ways.) but they made it work. It was what they had and hard as it may be, they loved it.

..So, yeah, Lance was a bit freaked, but if he went off the handle over one missed call he’d feel like a dickbag. Still it didn’t stop the unpleasant thoughts from rolling in. Lance let out a loud groan, checking his phone again before getting out of bed to grab his laptop. It’s fine. What’s one missed call? Nothing.

I can’t fight this feeling any longer..

It was scary how fast Lance jumped on his phone, not letting the song made ringtone continue playing as he answered the call.

“Hey, hun,” Lance said a bit breathlessly. Keith’s light laughter spilled out through the speaker.

“Hey.. Sorry I uh.. Left my phone on silent after painting and forgot to turn it back on when I was heading back,” he says and there’s some rustling in the background. Lance imagines he’s home and maybe putting a blanket around his shoulders like he often does.

“How was your day? Oh, and you gotta send me progress shots of the new painting,” Lance said easily, sitting down in bed and pulling his laptop up on his crossed legs.

“My day was alright.. Nothing too busy. Spent a lot of time in the studio. And I’ll have to take some pictures when I’m there again. Forgot this last time.” Lance smiled softly. He could listen to Keith talk about his day, well, all day. “How was your day?”

Lance grinned and launched into stories of all that happened. The study sesh with Hunk and Pidge, the phone call from his mom (Seriously Keith she has been asking about you. You need to give her a call!) and the little mishap at the student store on campus. Keith was attentive and hummed along to Lance’s stories. Eventually Lance trailed off.

“Buut anyway! Do you want to rabbit a movie? Or maybe a few episodes of something?? We haven’t done that this week, and I heard Brotherhood is back on Netflix.” Lance clicked around his laptop as he asked Keith. He wasn’t fully expecting the hesitant answer he got.

“Uhm.. Actually I dunno about that right now.” Lance frowned.

“Oh!! Oh no no that’s fine. We can just talk- unless you want to go? I-” Keith cut him off.

“Lance. Love, look it’s not that I was just..” He huffed a bit, pausing in his words. There was a knock at Lance’s door.

“Shit sorry. Give me a sec. Someone at the door..?” Lance pushed his laptop aside and quickly padded over to the door, pressing his phone to his shoulder as he peered out. Lance froze.

There stood Keith, phone still to his ear and his hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. He had a bag slung over his shoulder and gave Lance a timid smile.

“I was thinking we could watch it together.. In person?” Lance threw himself at his boyfriend, absolutely elated.

[sodoyouknowbts]

Taehyung x Reader - One Night Stand (Four)

Part of the ‘Married to You’ Series.

Summary: A one night stand with Kim Taehyung turns into something you never would’ve expected.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Romance, Drama, Arranged Marriage

Author: Moxie

Chapters: 01 & 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 (The Finale)

Chapter Four:

It was finally the weekend and you were relaxing at home watching Netflix on the projector screen in the theatre room. Taehyung had installed an incredible sound system and had leather recliner chairs put in. The entire room was soundproof and blacked out so no sunlight could get in. It must’ve cost him a mint but it was definitely worth it in your opinion because it felt just as though you were at the movies.

You were currently engrossed in the latest episode of your drama, a romance about a man and a woman who were childhood sweethearts that were separated, only to meet again as adults 10 years later. They try to carry on and make their love work but fate keeps getting in the way. This week’s episode was an emotional roller-coaster in particular. The couple were facing another challenge and it looked as though this might be the end for them.

“No don’t give up! He loves you!” you cry at the screen. Your hand clutching the tissue box tightly.

You anticipate what might happen next when your phone starts ringing, ruining the moment. You consider letting it ring out until you see that it’s Taehyung calling.

Weird, he never calls.

“Hello?” you sniffle trying to compose yourself. “Taehyung?”

“I left my wallet at home.”

“Oh you did? That’s a shame” your attention is drawn back to the screen and you reply absentmindedly. As the lead female turns to leave the lead male grabs her arm and spins her around dramatically until she falls into his chest. He stares at her with longing and slowly leans in.

This is it!  Finally! You think to yourself.

“Yeah…can you bring it to me?”

Their lips touch and the scene slows down as the background music starts playing.

“Yes!” you cheer, jumping up and down in your seat in excitement. You had been waiting for the two leads to kiss for weeks. However, your moment of joy is fleeting as you quickly remember that you’re still on the phone to Taehyung.

“Wait what did you say?” you ask.

Taehyung lets out a deep sigh before responding “I need my wallet, I left it on the kitchen counter.”

“Oh, yeah okay not a problem” you tell him “Where are you right now?”

“I’ll text you the address, don’t get lost.”

–

You didn’t get lost. In fact, 20 minutes later you found yourself standing outside of Taehyung’s agency. This was the first time you had been there since the two of you got married and you had always wondered what it was like. You were also curious to see Taehyung at work.

Looking around you note that the place was just like you had imagined. The building was incredibly spacious and it almost felt like you were walking into a hotel. The white walls were decorated with expensive looking art pieces as well as portraits of the models and actors in the company. The décor was clean and minimal, favouring white marble and silver hardware. The entire place screamed money.

You stop at a painting that catches your eye. It looked like the painter had taken a black canvas and drawn a bunch of lines in various different colours. The lines were all crossed with each other and the entire thing looked messy but for some reason you couldn’t look away. You don’t realize that you have zoned out until someone calls out your name, pulling you back to reality. You turn around surprised and see Jay approaching you.

“Hey what a surprise to see you here!” Jay exclaims smiling widely. The first time you had met Jay he was wearing a black suit but now he was dressed casually and you immediately note his unique outfit. He was wearing a blue striped dress shirt with bright green sweat pants and red sandals.

“Are you here to see Taehyung?” he asks.

You smile back politely and nod. You’re not completely sure how to act as the last time you had been around Jay you had cried like a baby in front of him. Just thinking about it made you cringe with embarrassment. The media still didn’t know that you were pregnant so he had kept your secret, for now.

“He forgot his wallet so I came to bring it to him” you hold up the wallet and show him.

“Wow you’re such a loving wife. Come on I’ll take you to him.” Jay replies indicating to the nearby elevators with a nod of his head.

You follow behind Jay and as you both wait for the elevator you take this chance to clear the air.

“So listen…about that other night. I’m sorry I cried, that’s not like me at all. I don’t usually cry in front of strangers.”

“Don’t be, it’s understandable given your situation. Hell, I was going to cry for you,” his light-hearted comment makes you chuckle and you can tell he’s trying to make you feel better.

“Thank you. And about what I said, you know about the pregnancy…”

“Don’t worry my lips are sealed. I won’t tell anyone your secret” he zips his lips and throws away the key.

You’re relieved at his words and you feel a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Taehyung hasn’t mentioned anything about making your pregnancy public and you didn’t know what you would do if word got out because of you. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he would react.

Would he be angry at you?

Wait a minute you think to yourself. Why do I care if he gets angry? I’m the one that’s pregnant. It’s going to come out sooner or later so why do I need his permission?

“…and he can be such a diva” you catch the end of Jay’s sentence. Wait when did he start talking?

“Sorry, what was that?” you ask.

“V. He’s always so private with his belongings, I’m surprised he let you touch his wallet. Although I guess it makes sense since you’re his wife” Jay replies.

“V?” you repeat the name unsure but then you remember that Jay had called Taehyung that the other night as well. “Do you mean Taehyung?”

“Yep, in high school his nickname was V. I call him that every now and then”

The elevator door opens and you both walk in. Jay presses the button for the fifth floor and the doors close.

“You’ve known him since high school?” you enquire curiously.

“Since we were kids actually! We both moved here from the countryside” he boasts proudly. “I know all about V. Did you know that he used to be really ugly? It’s a miracle that he grew up to become a model”.

“What no way!? I don’t believe you!” you reply back shocked. There was no way Taehyung could’ve been an ugly kid. The man was a walking god. He wasn’t born, he was carved from gold and put down on earth ready to break women’s hearts.

“Believe it! Here I’ll show you a photo.” Jay pulls out his phone and shows you an old photo of two boys, probably around six or seven, sitting in a sand pit. You recognise one of the boys immediately as Jay because he had the same smile. Beside him sat someone you didn’t know. He was wearing overalls and holding a bright red bucket full of sand. His dark hair was messy, sticking up random places and his face was grubby. His mouth was opened wide to show two missing teeth.

“See that boy chubby boy?” he pointed to the boy in overalls and you nod in response. “That’s Taehyung.”

No way! You can’t believe your eyes. There was no way the chubby little boy in this photo could be Kim Taehyung. There was no sign of the world’s top model at all.

“This is a joke, right?” you ask as Jay shakes his head.

“What other photos of Taehyung do you have?” Taehyung didn’t have any childhood photos of himself around the house so you were curious now to see what he was like.

“Oh! Oh! I’ve got the greatest photo to show you!” Jay exclaims excitedly. He bounces up and down on his toes as he scrolls quickly through his phone trying to find the photo. He finally stops scrolling and whatever it is it must be hilarious because he starts to laugh uncontrollably.

“What, what is it?” you query, leaning closer to Jay. He shows you his phone and the moment you see the photo you burst out in laughter. You laugh so hard your side begins to ache.

The photo was of a teenage Taehyung, probably in his early teens around thirteen, posing for the camera. He was wearing black pants with a black leather t-shirt and around his neck was a thick gold chain with a large dollar sign pendent, similar to the ones you see in old rap music videos. To finish off the look he had a white bandana tied around his head. However, it wasn’t the outfit, though hideous as it was, that had you both in a laughing fit. It was the face Taehyung was pulling.

He had his bottom lip between his teeth and his face was tilted back, giving the camera his best seductive face. It was terrible. It was also the greatest thing you had ever seen.

Kim Taehyung was famous for his smouldering and seductive stare that made girls faint. It was dubbed the “drop-your-panties” stare by his fans. You had seen it on a billboard once when he was advertising a cologne and you had almost crashed your car. It was definitely worthy of the name.

However, the Taehyung in his photo was anything but sexy. He looked like an absolute dork. You felt as though you had just won the lottery. This was the perfect blackmail. There was no way in hell Taehyung would let this photo see the light of day. If you had this photo he would never cross you.

“You have to send me this!” you gasp for breath. Your brain was already going through ways in which you could use the photo to torture Taehyung.

“I’ll send it now, what’s your number?” Jay takes down your number and sends he photo true to his words.

You clutch your side and brace yourself against Jay’s arm trying to pull yourself together. You’re both still in hysterics when the elevator door opens and you see a familiar face.

“I was wondering what was taking you so long”

The moment your eyes take in Taehyung you stop laughing. You feel as though all the air had left your lungs. Standing before you wasn’t your husband but the most famous model in the world. Taehyung was dressed in a navy-blue uniform jacket with gold buttons and matching navy-blue pants. The jacket was buttoned all the way to his collar and you wondered if he was wearing anything underneath. His hair was styled in loose waves and his fringe covered most of his eyes.

You couldn’t help but gape at the vision in front of you. If this was a scene in your drama there would be a spotlight on Taehyung and angelic singing. You could practically hear the church choir in your head.

Taehyung’s gaze drops to your hand on Jay’s arm and you immediately pull your hand away and straighten yourself.

“I didn’t ask you to come here and flirt.” Taehyung scoffs noting how close you and Jay were standing.

Your feel the heat rise to your face at his remark. The nerve of this punk!

You can’t believe he just insinuated that you were flirting with Jay. Before you can shoot back a response Jay beats you to it.

“Aww V are you jealous?” he slings an arm around Taehyung’s shoulder’s and squeezes him in an affectionate way. “You know I only have eyes for you.” Jay lays his head on Taehyung’s shoulder and bats his eyelashes playfully.

Taehyung looks at Jay in mock disgust and shrugs him off. He places his hand on Jay’s face and pushes him away replying “Grow up Jay!”.

Jay clutches his cheek and pretends to be hurt. “How could you be so rough with me you evil man?”

You chuckle at their banter. You had never seen Taehyung be playful and so the scene was refreshing.

“Go away. Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” Taehyung scolds kicking Jay in the butt.

“Fine, fine I’ll go. Just know that I’ll never forgive you, you heartless man!” Jay cries dramatically before turning and giving you a mischievous wink.  You smile back at his ridiculousness.

Seeing the exchange between you and Jay, Taehyung takes a hold of your hand and pulls you back into the elevator. “Whatever, we’re going now. Bye” he says before hitting the Ground button and closing the doors, not bothering to wait for a reply.

“Hey!” you begin to protest but stop when Taehyung silences you with his stare.

You were going to scold him for being rude but you decide to let the subject drop. Instead you stand in silence with Taehyung as the elevator descends. The soft melody from the speakers filling the space.

You sneak a glance at him from the corner of your eye. His side profile is just as nice as his front you admire. His long earring catches your attention and you’re surprised when you see it because you hadn’t realised that he had his ears pierced. You start to count how many piercings he has.

As if feeling your eyes on him Taehyung glances your way. “What?” he asks catching you off guard.

“Huh? Oh, nothing” you reply back smiling sheepishly at having been caught staring.

You reach the ground floor and you notice that Taehyung is leading you towards the exit so you ask him where you were going.

“I’ve finished work” he replied matter-of-factly as though that explained why you were both walking towards the nearby convenience store.

As if reading your mind again Taehyung adds “I’m hungry, I want some ramen”.

You both enter the store and the old man at the counter welcomes you. You quickly send back a thank you and chase after Taehyung who had already disappeared down an aisle. You find him in the dry food aisle looking at ramen. He picks out 3 packets and turns to leave but stops suddenly and grabs another.

Is this guy seriously going to eat 4 packets of ramen?

You hand him his wallet and as you make your way to the counter to pay, a group of high school girls walk in and the moment they see Taehyung they start to fuss, clutching onto each other in excitement.  You glance at Taehyung to see if he’s noticed his admirers but he appears to be clueless. He hands over the packets of ramen to the old man who begins to process them.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe that’s Kim Taehyung. He’s so hot!”

“He’s so tall! Oh my god I can’t breathe”

“Who is that girl with him? She’s so ugly”

“Yeah who does she think she is? That’s our Taehyung”

Even though they were whispering you could clearly hear what they were saying. You glance at Taehyung again to see if he could hear but his attention is still on the old man. Most likely not.

You try not to take notice of what they were saying because they didn’t know you and you could understand that Taehyung was their idol and they felt possessive of him, however it was hard not to take their words to heart. It was like you were back in the toilet listening to those ladies gossiping. You weren’t an idiot. You knew that marrying Taehyung would open the door for people to ridicule and talk about you and at the time you thought you could handle it and brush it off, but hearing people criticise you in person is a lot different from imagining it.

“Why would she wear that? It’s so ugly”

“Taehyung oppa should be with someone prettier”

Every one of their comments felt like a knife to you heart and you felt all of your insecurities rise to the surface. Don’t listen to them, they don’t know you. You bit the inside of your lip as you try to fight back the tears.

“He looked so much better with Anna”

There was that name again. Anna.

“Yeah they were perfect together. Anna is so much prettier”

I know she is.

“And taller”

I know she is.

“Anna deserves to be with our Taehyung. Not this cow”

Please stop!

You close your ears and pray for them to stop. You don’t know how much more you can take before your tears threaten to spill.

You suddenly feel someone take your hand and when you open your eyes you see that Taehyung has your hand in his, your fingers interlocked. You glance up at him and find that his attention hasn’t shifted. Earlier you had thought that he couldn’t hear the girls but it was clear now that he could. He had heard everything and this was his way of comforting you.

You feel that same little flutter in your stomach and you can no longer hear what the girls are saying.

Your hand looks small compared to his and you notice that his hand feels surprisingly rough. You can feel the spots where he had callouses from lifting weights. Most women would find rough hands a deterrent but you find yourself not minding it. You like the way your hand feels in his. You couldn’t remember the last time you held hands with a man and this felt nice. Safe.

Most of the time Taehyung acted cold and aloof and you assumed that he didn’t care about anything but maybe you were wrong?

Thanking the old man, Taehyung take the bag and turns to you, his expression is soft.

“Come on, let’s go home”

That’s all you need to hear before you nod.

He squeezes your hand as you walk past the group of teenagers who have summoned up the courage to talk to him.

“Taehyung, could we please get a photo with you? We’re really big fans” one of them asks, smiling sweetly.

She’s the one that called you ugly.

“No, sorry. I’m busy with my wife. Also, I don’t need fans who say unkind things” his replies coolly and brushes past them.

His response shuts them down completely and when you turn back to look at them their faces are a mask of shock and disbelief. You feel a little bit bad for them but the feeling is short lived.

One you hit the sidewalk Taehyung leads you back to the front of the agency where his car is parked. You continue to walk in a comfortable silence, your hand still intertwined with his. Perfectly content.

What is this feeling? Why is my heart beating so fast?

--

To be continued.

[stkambln]

“No Laughing Matter” Mega Post

(I’m reblogging this post from last year today, September 21, 2018. I fixed some gifs and made tiny changes.)

This is the episode I have invested the most time on ever. I wanted to have this ready earlier, but it took way more time than I imagined. Also, it became way bigger than I planned. But if you liked the episode and really like Luan, take a look at it for some interesting details.

Some of the stuff I talk about here probably never was in the mind of the writers. They could say this isn’t how they wrote Luan here. But that’s just it. This is how I see Luan’s character in No Laughing Matter.

Reflections, a bit of analysis, some a little bit dark speculations, and a LOT of GIFs and images

...

“No Laughing Matter” was sad actually, but just for the needed amount of time. However, during that time, it almost costed me tears.

That little melody… that was so sad. And what the heck Leni: “She’s so annoying!”, and Lincoln: “I wish she would just stop!” You guys are supposed to be the nicest siblings! I guess sometimes, even if unintentionally, your loved ones can hurt you really. 

Notice her voice during the time we can’t see her face because of all the funny stuff she carries. Also when she’s throwing it all into the bag, even when Lincoln is speaking at the same time. To me, it kind of sounds like Luan is trying not to cry.

Luan surely cried for some time after hearing her siblings complain. But now that she’s throwing away all her beloved comedy props, she must have felt sad again. She might had been considering doing it at some point, but after revealing what she was feeling to Lincoln, she probably had a moment of anger and decided to finish with all this stupid comedy thing for good. And she just threw Mr. Coconuts in the bag! And she referred to all of it as “trash”! 

And of course, this was called. They had to take Luan's “Get it?!” and use it against her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had another emotional breakdown after she forced Lincoln out of her now empty room, and couldn’t find any trace of what she used to be.

This was the most tragic, and also the most wrong conclusion Luan reached. Because if some don’t laugh with you, it doesn’t mean others won’t. But apparently, Luan can’t believe she’s funny to anyone if she thinks her siblings dislike her comedy that much.

Now, this was a different side of Luan, being all low and speaking scarily normal. Luan’s behavior and language is lacking of anything that differentiates her from the rest.  

She’s like an actress reading her lines just because whatever.

Unlike that merry melody that was played when Luan was inviting the kids to her show, there’s no music at all in these scenes.

It looks as if she was also “practicing” how to be nice to her siblings. Even complimenting them.

Somebody said Luan is apathetic rather than depressed, and I think that’s right at some point. However, Luan wasn’t just walking around like a zombie, not caring for anything. Her clever comedian mind was working hard for another purpose.

You look at her face. She’s trying to decide which is the appropriate way to react to this without using a joke.

You could probably say that she’s just puzzled about her siblings doing these unusual things, but remember, just recently, Luan used to respond to everything with a punny comment. Now, she has quit that, so behaving “normally” in these everyday situations is sort of a new territory she’s exploring.

At some moments, I’d dare to say she even looks afraid she could be responding wrong to her siblings.

And boy, she was way far from being unemotional. It doesn’t happen everyday that we get to see so many different faces from Luan. For now, let’s focus on the fact that Luan can be serious too, and get genuinely angry.

But really, who wouldn’t lose it if your siblings keep spitting many fluids of various flavors in your face? She had to change her clothes at least three times that day.

And something curious, what was the deal with this book?

What exactly was she so interested in that she even had to read it while walking? That’s dangerous, Luan!

Kind of looks like... some computer program thing?

It may be that Luan was trying to find something new to dedicate her life to. Or perhaps, this was some way of avoid thinking in comedy?

All in all Luan was trying to adapt to her new self. She apparently had accepted the change pretty fast and maturely. That doesn’t mean she didn’t go through any hard experiences.

Lincoln finds out about Luan’s decision apparently just one day after she overheard them “venting”. Which means she went through the entire process of convincing herself she’s not funny and giving up comedy in just one night. And the next morning, she’s serving Lincoln totally harmless punch. 

Maybe it wasn’t just one night, and a few more days passed before the kids found out about Luan. In which case, all of them, and especially Luna, failed to notice something was wrong with one of the Loudest of the Louds. Either that or Luan managed to keep it in the very low profile.

I think it was the first scenario, but whatever the case was, the important matter is that this girl had a BIG internal crisis that she solved by herself.

I don’t intend to understand and explain Luan’s mental state in this episode. I just want to point out that she probably didn’t really finish detaching from her comedian self. 

We don’t know if she really cried about it, or how much she did it, or what she felt towards herself and everybody else; shame, guilt, hate, misery, etc. All we saw was that in a short period of time, she was looking just fine, without any major signs of uneasiness, and even being so confident that she had taken the right decision. This is what makes me believe she may had left some things unsolved. Because, this was her passion in life after all. She abandoned it too quickly.

And here is where I think we could talk about depression, or identity crisis, or any other psychological thing that could have hit Luan in the days after the events of the episode. And I think we get a glimpse of that possibility when the kids attend the Chortle Portal show.

So Luan decides she can go and enjoy comedy even when she is not a good comedian. She thinks everything’s alright, but she instantly begins another conflict with herself. Her belief that she’s not good at making people laugh suddenly makes her wonder if she is not even good at being capable of laughing with real good comedy.

This is where it seems that Luan didn’t solve her crisis in the right way. She has given up comedy, since she’s not funny, but now, that wrong belief is making her consider giving up something not related to not being funny. Because I think we all agree that you don’t need to be a genius comedian to... just laugh at something funny.

This is a dangerous logic that was putting Luan in a wrong path. Even catastrophic. She probably was gonna start thinking she is not good for anything related to comedy. That she doesn’t belong to comedy. She doesn’t deserve it. She’s not worthy of it.

If Lincoln hadn’t done what he did, and had they just watched all the performances that night, Luan may had ended really damaged. 

Because the way I see it, to Luan, it still hurt. All those years working so hard to be funny had made her love comedy. And suddenly, she has to turn her back to all that. However, I don’t think she forgot her love for making people laugh in such a little time. She may have covered it with shame and sadness when realizing she was annoying to others, but it was still there. She might have forced herself to ignore it, and that’s how she thought she had solved everything.

Going to a place that celebrated comedy suddenly reminds her how much she loved that. It hurts to Luan to think how she can’t never again do what she loved most, because she’s not good at it, and that’s probably when it occurs to her that perhaps she can’t either hear a joke and laugh with it.

If she had kept thinking that way, it would’ve been too much for her to endure. She wouldn’t have been able to keep watching the comedy show, or to even think about comedy, because it hurt too much that it reminded her of what she had lost. 

So she would’ve probably ended up rejecting it. 

Luan probably would have left the building not only definitely distancing herself from comedy, but also hating it. Maybe even hating herself for having tried to be funny.

And after this, it’s almost sure she would have developed a serious case of depression. Along with who knows what other emotional scenarios. Have you ever wonder how Maggie became an Emo? Well, this looks like a probable way to it.

I almost feel tempted to put here an image of Emo Luan, but no.

Because thank God, none of that horrible stuff happened to Luan. Save that for the fanfics. And we know how it all ended.

Nobody is probably gonna know really how much good Lincoln’s plan did for Luan, but it sure had a tremendous effect on her.

She was just about to follow that wrong path from above, when her still alive comical instinct put her on stage.

You can see she doesn’t believe it at first, but it’s true. It is laughter.

We have to stop a bit to consider that Luan is used to hear laughs from almost only little kids at birthday parties, and in her house there’s usually groaning when she tells a joke. So this laughter must have been the sweetest sound she wasn’t expecting.

I absolutely love her face the precise moment she comes back.

This is no joking matter. She is making an audience of grown ups laugh. People who probably don’t even know her.

And this is probably the second most important moment of the episode. Her sisters and brother are laughing with her puns for the first time ever in the whole series!... Ok fine, that’s not fair. This should be like the second time they laugh with her jokes.

So, in the end, Luan sees that people do laugh with her comedy, and that she really is funny. Her siblings were just a little annoyed by her recent bombardment of comedy, and it was more because of the physical jokes.

Let’s take a moment to look at Luan’s happiest most sincere face that shows she feels like she just came back from death and has another chance at comedy life.

This is what she really needed and wanted to hear. And it’s the perfect scene to end the main section of this Megapost.

...

Nah, THIS is the perfect image.

...

A special mention to Leni in this episode, for breaking her sister’s heart.

But also for being the only one who thought something might had been wrong.

And of course, for this beautiful thing

...

I want to finish by remarking a couple of things about the episode in general.

On the bad side:

It bothers me that Luna wasn’t the first one in the house to notice Luan had given up comedy. I mean, Luan threw her contest flyers in the trash can in their shared bedroom. And if she did notice, then she didn’t give it much importance, or the writers didn’t take this opportunity to show more about their sisters relationship.

This crisis Luan had seems like the type of matter parents should take care of, or at least be aware of. Ok, I get they may have been busy. But they didn’t make time to attend their daughter’s very important contest? I thought at least Mr. Loud enjoyed puns.

On the good side:

Luan actually WON the Junior Comedians Contest! She made a whole audience of adult strangers laugh. That puts her in another level. She means some serious funny business now.

This experience is gonna teach Luan a lot of things. She knows exactly what, but I bet she’s gonna be more confident against critics. I wish we could say her family is gonna be less annoyed by her comedy, but it seems some things never change in the Loud House. She just have to learn to tolerate the intolerant.

...

That’s it for good now. I’m glad if you make it until this point. There will be a second part to this, of course much shorter and focusing on a different aspect of the episode. It will not be much friendly though.

Also, if somebody noticed the Charlie Brown reference in this episode (if there was any), please tell me, because I haven’t found it yet.

[kpopgerapitico]

EOYR 2017: K-Dramas Part 2

These dramas are good. With a capital G. I love them all very much. They may have problems, but I either don’t remember them, or I don’t care about them. Or the show was so good that I forgot about the downfalls.

These aren’t in an order (they are in my heart) because I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Quick Honorable Mentions: I decided to not include any drama specials/web dramas in the rest of this post, so I have to mention a few here instead.

My Runway:

In A Sentence: Body changing with models. That’s it, that’s the show

Steer Clear If: You require depth, because you will not find it.

Comments:

This drama is not deep or long, but it is sweet. It is a lollipop in drama form. It is a drama that is neither hard to follow or offensive. It also didn’t come out this year, but was released to Netflix this year, so this is the year I watched it in. It holds a spot close to my heart for being adorable and requiring no brain power, which sometimes is all I want from a drama.

Last Minute Romance:

In A Sentence: Baek Se’s bucket list includes dating an idol star . . . oh and she has 3 months to live.

Steer Clear If: This show depicts both cancer and depression. Both are treated respectfully (and often in a new way).

Comments:

This show gives me even more reason to love Han Seung Yeon. Also, this is a depiction of cancer I have NEVER seen in dramaland. It is both unerringly optimistic as well as realistic and grounded. The romance is sweet and understated. The main character dies (it’s not a spoiler, you know she has cancer in the first 5 minutes) and (this IS a spoiler) her boyfriend chooses to live his life and not be totally sad, and is successful. It is a refreshing take on a lot of common drama tropes that keeps you watching. The Romeo and Juliet speech is really good, and any scene with Han Seung Yeon (most of the scenes admittedly) are great as well. It is a worthy watch.

Individualist Ji-young:

In A Sentence: What happens when lonely people who don’t acknowledge that they’re lonely meet each other.

Steer Clear If: This deals with depression, and an almost sort of suicide attempt.

Comments:

This drama is the reason I refuse to give up on Gong Myung. Because he may keep choosing shitty drama after shitty drama, but this one shows that if you give him a character with a lot of charm, a little bit of depth, and the job to make puppy eyes at the lead, he will succeed. In spades. This drama also shows that you don’t have to be optimistic in your portrayal of depression in order to get a happy ending. I also love the fact that Ji Young gets to a better place with her depression (I hesitate to say she is better) post breakup. She is not saved by a man, she is forced onto a new path maybe, but the healing comes off screen and away from him.

Basically, watch more drama specials.

Now back to the long format.

Argon:

In A Sentence: They used to be the best news team, and maybe, they will be again.

Steer Clear If: You don’t like news shows. That’s it.

Comments:

Coming into this show, I had no expectations, except that it was one of the last things Kim Joo Hyuk did, and that I loved him in Like For Likes (and also Two Days One Night). This show was what I wanted Newsroom to be.

By having 8 episodes, Argon manages to avoid the downfall of so many news shows that get lost in the procedural nature of the show. Instead, every case feels important to the main plot, and every case feels important to the growth of the characters. The show is tightly paced without feeling rushed.

This show made me care about news that was either fake, or about people in a country far far away. It made me teary eyed both at the plots and emotions of the show as well as the fact that this role was so damn good for Kim Joo Hyuk, and I will never be able to see him in another like it in the future.

And that may have been the main reason that I cried during the last episode. That and everyone having some great successes. Or maybe just Kim Joo Hyuk walking out of a building, leaving Argon as well as the world.

Father Is Strange:

In A Sentence: A family lives their lives as a whole lot of normal people problems happen to them.

Steer Clear If: You cannot handle a long show. There are a LOT of episodes in this show.

Comments:

This was the first (and only) weekend drama I have ever watched, at the recommendation of Dramabeans’ javabeans. And I’m very glad that I listened. This show takes the tropes of a weekend drama, keeps the ones it likes and uses the ones that are annoying judiciously. The main characters are all deeply written, and often have equal amounts good and bad in their personalities. No one does something out of character, which was a rarity in the shows this year.

It was also a show that made me happy just while watching. It wasn’t groundbreaking. It wasn’t overly complicated. It didn’t try to be anything it wasn’t. Instead, it used stellar acting in nearly every role to convey a family faced with crisis after crisis who choose to stay together.

It is the supportive family that we all want. And yeah, everyone makes mistakes, including most of the members of this family, but that never makes them stop loving each other. For that alone it is worth watching.

Because This Is My First Life:

In A Sentence: The contract marriage show that is about so much more than just the relationships between 2 people.

Steer Clear If: I honestly don’t have any warnings about this show . . . Actually, that’s a lie. There is some noble idiocy sort of stuff that I am super tired of, but fits the story so it doesn’t bother me. It might bother you.

Comments:

There is a reason everyone loved this show. And the central relationship was only part of it. It had Lee Minki as a man who is un-apologetically different, un-apologetically weird, and makes very few changes to that personality over the course of the show. And for once, that isn’t bad, because his original personality is good, and it is more exposed than changed over the course of the show. And it has Jung So Min (in her second show of the list) as a woman who lives her life sort of floating along, accepting what happens to her, while also being smart enough to change what she thinks she can. The combination doesn’t seem like it will work, but it somehow works beautifully.

There is also the side relationship of the CEO and the friend, which does a wonderful job of showing what it means for a man to respect his partner, and just as importantly, for a woman to demand that respect.

There is also the side relationship of the friend and her long term boyfriend (another appearance for Kim Min Seok) that is heartbreakingly real. I especially liked how the show treated the final breakup, and how it forced the characters to confront their emotions instead of ignoring them.

It is a romance whose plot is nearly almost all the romance, which is where its strength lies. It doesn’t try to be anything it isn’t, and it manages to be stellar at what it is.

The Package: (my a little bit favorite)

In A Sentence: Everyone goes on vacation for different reason; some for love, some to run from love. (I know that’s vague. It’s intentional)

Steer Clear If: This show is sometimes slow in a contemplative sort of way. There is occasionally some tropes that the show doesn’t avoid so much as dives into head first.

Comments:

These is a pre-produced show. And because of that I had high expectations on the visual quality of the show. I had high expectations. They were shattered.

A significant portion of this show is a love letter to France. It is beautiful. The whole show is shot in tones, from the green of night to yellow tinted days in France, to blues in Korea (you could probably write a whole color theory essay on this show). It tells the visual part of the story so so damn well. From the location choices, to wardrobe, the whole show quietly excels at using the budget it got to full visual effect.

And that is a perfect adjective to describe the show: quiet. Instead of sticking to one point and hitting it over and over, it meanders between characters and side plots. It is rarely uproariously funny, or depressingly sad. It spends most of its time in the mundanity of stories and characters that feel so very real.

The whole cast is amazing, and does wonderful work in the wonderful roles. Instead of listing the actors, I’ll give some tropes without too many spoilers.

There is the elderly couple, the wife dying of cancer, the husband continuing to annoy her and everyone else on the trip.

There is the young couple, who are in and out of love (mostly out), and trying to figure out what to do.

There is the older man with the younger woman. And that is all I will tell you about them.

And there is the guy who was stood up at the terminal boarding the plane to Paris.

Oh, and the girl who never stopped running.

And that ensemble is the real reason the show excels. You may tune in every week to see how the romance is progressing, but for many episodes, it isn’t the most important thing happening. There is illness, and heartbreak, and anger. There is laughter, and joy, and love. I have cared more about other casts before, but I never cared for this many people all at once.

It is maybe the most satisfying show I watched this year. And one of the most underrated.

[ohalemalia]

Prove It (Stiles Stilinski/Stuart Imagine)

Pairing: Stiles x Reader, Stuart x Reader (depending on what floats your boat)

Warnings: none, but beware of boys with twins

A/N: I’m exhausted and I’ve been sitting on this idea for weeks. It’s my first full length imagine I’ve posted on here and it’s a bit nerve wracking, but what do I have to lose?

Word Count: 1424

Summary: Stiles accidentally makes plans with both Scott and Y/N and enlists in his twin brother’s help to cover his ass.

"Stuart?!" Stiles screamed from somewhere in the house.

"Stiles," Stuart called out with much less enthusiasm, his eyes not leaving his phone screen. His brother came into the room, arms flailing, a panicked look on his face, "Stu, I messed up." "You usually do," Stuart swiped his finger on the screen, "And don't call me "Stu"." Stiles plopped himself down on the couch across from his brother, "I don't know what I'm going to do." "I don't know why you're telling me." Stiles narrowed his eyes at his brother, "You know, you could at least try to be a little sensitive. At least pretend to care. I'm having a crisis here." With a dramatic sigh Stuart shut his phone off, placed it to the side, folded his hands under his chin and took a good long look at his brother, "What?" "Okay," Stiles shook his arms out, ready to launch into his tale, "Okay. So Scott needs my help with...uh....school stuff, right?" "Right..." Stuart repeated with boredom, " "School stuff"." "But I promised Y/N like a week ago that tonight would be all about us. No Scott, no pack stuff, no supernatural--, er, Supernatural marathons. Just us." Stuart raised an eyebrow, "I fail to see how this concerns me." "We have a personal advantage you know, sharing the same face and all." Stuart shook his head slowly, "I don't get it." Stiles let out a frustrated noise, "Good God, and you call yourself the smart one." --- If Stuart really was as smart as he proclaimed, he wouldn't be in this situation right now. "This is stupid." "Yeah, yeah, I know, just don't blow it, alright?" Stiles reached up and slid the glasses off his brother's face. "Hey!" Stuart squinted, grabbed for the specs. "I don't wear glasses, bud." "Well I do, bud." "Yeah, Stuart does, but Stiles doesn't. If we're going to pull this off we have to go all the way." Stuart sighed in annoyance, "This is stupid, I'm not doing this." The doorbell rang, signaling Y/N's arrival. "Too late," Stiles said, heading towards the back door, "It's now or never." "Why don't you just text her and make a rain check rather than go through this stupid elaborate scheme?" "Because it'll be the sixth rain check this week," Stiles nodded at his brother's shocked expression, "Yeah, so, unless I want to really piss my girlfriend off and not get to touch her for weeks, that's not going to happen." The door bell rang again, "Stiles? Are you in there?" "Why don't I just go hang out with Scott instead?" Stuart asked. "Uh, no," Stiles retorted, "He's my best friend. He'd be able to tell it wasn't me in a second." "And your girlfriend won't?" The deadbolt started clicking. Stiles forgot that Y/N had her own key and they were running out of time. "Look," Stiles started, "You're just watching a movie, okay? You don't have to talk, you don't have to look at her--" "I would barely be able to see her anyway," Stuart interjected. "Just cover for me, okay? I'll owe you big time. I just...I just don't want to let her down, alright?" "So you'd rather lie to her. Admirable." Y/N shut the door behind her, "Stiles?" "In the kitchen, babe!" Stiles shouted. He turned to Stuart and clapped a hand on his shoulder, "Remember, I'll owe you big time." Before Stuart could protest further Stiles slid out the back door and shut it behind him. "Hey, babe," Y/N grinned, coming into the kitchen. She came over to press a kiss on his cheek, but Stuart evaded it by going around the kitchen counter. He knew Stiles wanted him to cover for him, but somehow he didn't think making out with his girlfriend was what he meant. She furrowed her brows at him, "Who just left?" "Who, huh? Uh," Stuart looked back at what he thought was the door, "That was Stuart. He was just going to hang out with some friends." She quirked an eyebrow, "Stuart has friends?" She chuckled and set her bag on the counter. Stuart had to admit, his pride was a bit wounded. Of course he had friends. "I brought our favorites: popcorn, Reese's cups, Twizzlers." She kept unloading stuff and Stuart fought the urge to make a face. Reese's cups were definitely not his favorite, that was all Stiles, "Mhm." "Here, get started on the popcorn and I'll start the movie," She turned to him and moved her arm. Before Stuart could register what was happening, something flat and smooth hit him in the face. The bag of popcorn. Her hands went up to her mouth to stifle her laughter, "Oh my god. I'm--I'm so sorry." She came over to him and cupped his face in her hands. She leaned in to kiss his forehead, but Stuart coughed and moved away, "So that popcorn huh?" He didn't see her shoulder's slump in defeat, "Right, uh, I'll put the movie on." -- It took him a total of seven minutes and a bit of eye strain to find the bag of popcorn, locate the microwave, press the right numbers, get the popcorn in a bowl and bring it out to the living room. Y/N was sitting on the floor against the couch, her hair pulled haphazardly in a bun at the top of her head. She scrolled through Netflix, trying to find something suitable to watch, "What about 13 Reasons Why?" "God no," Stuart said as he carefully placed the popcorn down on the table. Y/N pursed her lips, "Alright then, 13 Reasons is a no go." Stuart's phone chirped from inside his pocket. He dug it out and squinted at the message: Stiles hows it going? does she suspect anything? Stuart tapped carefully: if by "anything" you mean "that you're a lying piece of shit", no. your secret is safe with me (: His phone chirped immediately: Stiles -_- Stuart sat down next to Y/N who snuggled up to him immediately. Stuart tried to relax and play it cool, but the more he tried to "be" cool, the more tense he felt. He did nothing wrong, he wasn't the idiot that double booked, why did he have to have this guilt riding his conscious? Y/N frowned at the bowl of popcorn, "The popcorn's a little burnt..." "What? No, it's just-" Stuart picked up a handful and put it in his mouth only to spit right back in his hands, "Absolutely charred." Y/N pursed her lips, "I'll just go get some more then..." -- The rest of the night was as relaxing as taking a final exam. Y/N tried to cuddle with Stuart, Stuart stayed still as a statue, Stiles kept blowing up his phone, asking for updates, Y/N was getting suspicious, Stuart was getting tired of the whole charade. So was Y/N. "Stiles?" Stuart didn't answer, he was getting engrossed in the show by now and forgot who was supposed to be. "Stiles!" "He's--huh? Oh, yeah, uh, babe?" Y/N didn't seem pleased, "What's going on?" "Well Sherlock and John were just about to--" "No, I meant what's going on with you?" Uh-oh. "Me?" "Yes," Y/N said slowly, "You've been acting weird all night. Well, weirder than usual. You won't touch me, you've barely talked to me in the last hour and a half--" "Well this episode is really good." Y/N rolled her eyes, "Every time I've tried to kiss you you've evaded me like I have Ebola." Stuart's phone chimed again. "And that stupid phone hasn't shut up all night." "It's just...it's nothing." "Obviously, it's something." "It's not." Y/N paused the show and crossed her arms, "If something's going on, just tell me now. I don't want to waste my time if your heart's not in it." Shit. Shit. Shit. "Something going on? Like what? What could be going on?" There was a long silence, Stuart could barely make out the expression on her face. But the sad, distant tone of her voice said wonders. "Are you cheating on me?" "What? No!" "Then what?" She cried, exasperated, "What's going on? Is it me?" "No," Stuart insisted, "It's definitely not you." She leaned dangerously close to him, placing both hands on either side of his face. Her lips hovered over his, "Then prove it, Stiles. Prove how much you really love me." Stuart’s eyes widened. Either way this went, Stiles would not be happy.

[oldmenkissing]

For day one of stanchez week: Heist Title: Robberies Count As Bonding, Right? Rating: T

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, swearing Rick was bitter. This wasn’t what he expected when he’d suggested pulling an off-planet heist. And honestly, what kind of bullshit bank security has these bottom-tier security cameras? It’s like Zelta-D Bank of Intergalatic Exchange (translated, of course. There aren’t nearly enough letters in any Earth language to recreate the keysmash that is the native tongue of Zelta-D) was asking to be robbed.

With all cameras turned off, redirected, or now playing old episodes of C-grade Earth soap operas, curtesy of an all-too-intricate droid Rick put together on the way here (honestly, he could’ve gotten away with the kind of thing he put together when he got fidgety, but he’d prepared for a much more interesting evening), the two of them slipped through with the help of the dim lighting. Rick probably would’ve been suspicious about how easy this had been so far, but he wouldn’t be surprised if they were actually just this unprepared. Zelta-D was full of intelligent life in the scientific sense - buildings, economies, cultural traditions, the works - but Rick would’ve been academically and logically smarter than the smartest Zeltian when he was 5. He was almost frustrated with how easy this was turning out to be. “You know you’ve been muttering under your breath since we disabled the security systems, right?” Stanley asked, his lips quirked slightly. “I-it’s only because this whole thing is bullshit! It’s all easy! These guards are so fucking incompetent we could basically just walk right past them!” “Then think of it this way,” Stan began, “the fun of it’ll come with spending the money. Am I hearing Space Vegas?” Rick fought back a quirk of his lips, eventually losing. “There we go! So we hop in, hop out, go get drunk on alien alcohol. Simple as that!” “Y-yeah. Sounds like we got a plan.” Stan grinned at him, continuing forwards towards where they kept the money. It took Rick all of 2 minutes to crack the vault’s code (ZLT-D would definitely not make it onto the list of secure passcodes, who the hell even thought that’d be a good idea?). In fact, the best security measure they had in place was probably the weight of this door, but Stan managed. (And Rick definitely did not blush at his partner-in-crime’s flexing muscles) Within half an hour, they emerged, bags and shirts overflowing with about 67 different alien currencies (they could always exchange it elsewhere), and slipped out undetected. Later on, money sorted and stacked and being thrown around bars and casinos, as Rick sipped at top-of-the-range alcohol from who-knows-where in the multiverse, he was glad he’d agreed with Stan. Seeing the other man’s face stretched with the smile of someone who’d touched rock bottom and could fully appreciate the feeling of having something to spend, Rick felt a strange tug in his gut. Appreciation of something truly spectacular, the contentment of knowing where someone’s been and seeing how far they’ve come, understanding that someone has felt pain, watching them now enjoying themselves. Warmth, fondness, synonyms for affection. Affection, a synonym for liking, for loving. Loving quietly, but loving dearly. As the bizarre mixture of sweet and bitter, with that distinct burn of alcohol, and the viscosity of honey left in the sun rolled across his tongue, Rick thought that maybe simple heists weren’t all that bad after all. —— Rick and Stan had heard word of a traveling exhibit that was stopping by, which had somehow acquired a - simply put - rare space gem, which Rick could either sell for a shitload of money or keep for himself and use for science. Alternatively, he could split the gem, sell half of it for a slightly less shitload, and keep the other half for science (upside being both cash and science, downside being less cash and less science. He hadn’t decided yet). “So, I-I-I attach this to the wires, knock out the cameras, and meet you at the stairs, right?” “Right.” “Yeah, and then w-we fuckin’ leg it up to the room, grab it, portal out…” “Right.” Rick paused, noticing the other man wasn’t paying attention, following Stan’s eyes to his own legs and ass. Rick smirked, deciding he couldn’t blame Stan, because he knew for a fact that he looked great in tight pants. “And then-then we dive out the window, gem in hand.” “Right.” The skinny man made a squeak of barely repressed laughter, which brought Stan’s attention away from his point of focus. “Wait, what?” “Should’ve worn looser pants, huh? Can’t blame you for not being able to focus when I look this good.” Stan’s face turned beet-red. Rick laughed loudly. The shorter man quickly pressed a hand over Rick’s mouth. “Please remember that we’re here to commit a crime. The less attention we draw to ourselves the better.”

Rick nodded, and licked Stan’s hand. “Christ, Rick!” He cried, wiping his hand. Rick snickered. The shorter man sighed. “Look, can we just get this done? I wanna get out before people start getting suspicious of the car.” Rick shrugged, slipped out of the car, and went along with his plan. —— They probably should’ve seen it coming. The Zeltians weren’t the smartest race, but you didn’t have to be anywhere near a genius to figure out that, after such a huge bank robbery, you probably needed to do something about security. The two slipped through a staff door without worry. The thought of The Zelta-D Bank of Intergalactic Exchange having security updates from the last time they’d been there sat in the back of their minds, but when the doorway triggered no alarms, they might’ve got a bit cocky. Which is how they ended up back-to-back, alarms blaring, red flashes the only source of light in the pitch-black of the bank, torch up against a wall and out of reach. Several security guards surrounded them, gun-like weapons pointed at the two of them as they stood frozen. Rick couldn’t count how many guards there were in the short time there was light on them. “Don’t y-you dickbags have fucking torches or some shit.” An angered muttering could barely be heard over the alarms.“You break into our most successful and prized bank-” one grating voice began. “Twice,” Rick butted in. “You break into our most successful and prized bank twice, and you don’t even bother to learn that Zeltians have night vision!” the voice screeched. The taller man groaned. “Of course y-you do.” He raised his hand again from where he’d been reaching for his portal gun. “Rick, come on, maybe we can get out if we co-operate,” Stan whispered. “Unlikely,” Rick scoffed. “You two villains-“ “Villains?!” “-just wait until the Federation gets here!” Rick’s snappy comebacks stopped. There was a long silence. “Rick?” Stan asked, worried, unsure whether his partner’d just been silently shot. “The-the-“ Rick gulped, “‘The Federation’, as in The Galactic Federation?” “What other Federation? Zelta-D only accepts help from the best, after all.” Silence again. “Fuck.” Rick whispered. “Fuck, Lee, w-w-we gotta get outta here before the Federation gets here.” “Why? Who’re the Galactic Federation? What did they do? You’ve never mentioned them before.” “Let’s just say they’ve put a biiiiiiiig target on my back, and I’d rather not die today.” Not here, not when you'd have to watch, not ever when you have to watch. “Hey, uhh, security officer dude?” Stan spoke up. “My name is Kzjyyhgg Zjjklej, Hzzr Zjjklhj to you, criminal!” “Uh, yeah, Hzzr Zjjklhj,” (Stan tried his best at repeating that, he really did.) “before we get taken away, I’d like to try to make amends by uhh… By learning a bit about your culture and such.” The alien made a chirping sound, which Stan interpreted as encouragement. “So you uhh… Mentioned night vision, right? How strong is that?” Kzjyyhgg made another chirping sound, followed by a gurgle, which seemed to indicate enthusiasm. “Well! We don’t like to brag about it,” (tone indicating otherwise) “but we do have much better night vision than some other species. For example, I can clearly see your vague outlines right now.” Relief washed over Stan. “Wow! Impressive! And what about hearing?” “Oh, Zeltian hearing is even more impressive! I can always hear my own breathing. If I concentrate.” “Uh huh. Very impressive. And uh… Seeing as your sight is far superior, how many guards are in this room at the moment?” “Oh! 17, the standard for Zeltian guards.” “Shit,” he whispered. Rick was shifting nervously from foot to foot. Stan could feel the tension in Rick’s muscles, their backs still pressed together. He was trying his best to think of a plan to get the two of them out of there alive. He wasn’t too keep on seeing Rick die today, either.   “Oh! One thing I forgot to mention!” Kzjyyhgg added, “Our vision becomes much clearer with movement. The faster you move, the better we see you! And our reflexes are off the charts.” Fuck. “Y-you-you know, I’m intrigued, tell me more about Zelta-D,” Rick said. “Oh no, I don’t think I want to talk to you.” “C’mon, buddy, dying man’s wish.” The man moved his arms, too far, too fast, and the room echoed with the sound of - presumably - 17 guns being loaded. Rick froze. “Very well then.” The guard grumbled, beginning to tell what seemed to be the entire history of Zelta-D. Perhaps 10 minutes (that felt like 10 hours; Ricks arms ached terribly) the story was interrupted by a thump. “What the-the hell was that?” He received no response. He jumped when he heard the telltale sound of a door being knocked down, a splintering crack, a thump, and dozens of footsteps approaching quickly. Lights were shone at them, and soon after, guns were loaded, orders were given to shoot. Triggers were pulled. Bullets were shot. Rick hit the ground. But he wasn’t dead. He opened his eyes, squinting, not used to any sort of light after what had just transpired. He heard the familiar sound of a portal closing. Rick shot up, looked around, eyes adjusting. This was their hotel room. “Stanley?” “Turn around, dingus.” The blue-haired man didn’t think he’d ever felt such intense relief. “Oh thank god,” he whispered, scrambling to his feet, flinging himself at his partner-in-crime. “Woah there,” Stan chuckled. “We-w-we did it, Lee!” Rick laughed, relieved and delighted. “We fucking did it! W-we survived!” The other man smiled. “Yeah, we did, didn’t we?” “I-I-I thought for sure I - we - I was a dead man when they said ‘Federation’.” Stanley recognised this as something with a story, but not one for now. Now was a time for appreciating the fact that they were both still able to breathe, still able to feel their own heartbeats, still able to just be alive. “Haha! I can’t believe it, Lee! I could just kiss you right now!” Stan paused, blushed, and with the adrenaline still pumping through his body, answered with a smile; “then why don’t you?” Rick’s lips twitched at the corners, before he ginned wide, and pulled Stan’s face up to meet his own. There was more to the kiss than ‘thank god we’re alive’, more than just the adrenaline; this was a kiss they’d been waiting for an excuse for, and now they had one, and they’d started something. This wasn’t just a match being stuck and blown out, this was a match being thrown onto a fire. This was more than just a celebration of survival, but at the same it, that was exactly what it was. A celebration that begins and doesn’t end. But they don’t need to admit to that just yet. Instead, they just laughed, and kissed, and cried tears they’d both immediately deny. Instead, they forgot about the money they’d failed to get, forgot about the Federation, forgot about anything but this, anything but this moment. Because this, this moment was everything. 

[authoramandawilson]

I screwed up.

Severely.

I committed the biggest, most horrendous crime as a writer and mental health advocate.

I forgot to update my blog over the last month.

*Cue Psycho violin screech music*

In my defence, most of September and October have been a whirlwind of non-stop hustling and bustling, and it was only my birthday weekend past that I realized how much I put my blog on the back burner in an attempt to keep up with other writing demands.

And let’s be realistic, being a stay-at-home, freelance writer doesn’t mean I get lots of free time. Most days I’m barred up in my writing den with my cats and dog, smashing my keyboard as I try to get projects done while fuelled by one too many ice caps and chai lattes.

Should I have been paying more attention to my blog? Yes. Am I an idiot for putting off this recent post? Oh, yeah! Could I have been more attentive? Hell yes, but sometimes life has a way of drifting to more pressing matters, and sometimes you gotta sacrifice in one area in exchange for something else.

In lieu of putting Fighting the Good Fight on a brief hiatus, I spent the last six weeks focusing on promoting Lemonade Stand and travelling for my unofficial (and very underpaid) book tour. I spent over two weeks travelling around Newfoundland, personally delivering books to fans, friends, and family. I racked up km’s on my Rav, I spent way too much money at Tim Hortons (on ice caps and blueberry muffins, of course) and took a few days here and there to spend time with long-lost friends and family.

How I kept up with everything over the last six weeks is beyond me, and the thought that after Tuesday we’re heading into the Christmas season, I’ll be lucky if I keep up with all the demands and expectations. (Lets hope I do!)

That’s not to say I didn’t have fun over the last few weeks either. I get to spend every day doing something I love – writing and more writing. I get to lose myself in my manuscripts and recently, I’m really into writing a lot of poetry. (Thanks Rupi Kaur!) At the end of the day, it’s a lot of pain and fun, but I couldn’t be happier.

(Now if only I could stick to a better sleep schedule.)

So in ode to a crazy, fun, busy, and overwhelming six weeks, I decided to compile a list of all the adventures I have been losing myself in. So settle in, grab an ice cap, and enjoy the highlight reel.

Getting to Play Band Groupie to Rough Hands

What’s better than best friends and great local music?

When they’re together of course!

I was lucky enough to have my friends from the band Rough Hands on the west coast, lending them a place to crash and spending time together toward the end of their Eastern Canada tour. It was a very impromptu stay, but we had fun and I was thankful to get to see some faces I haven’t seen in a while. Their show was absolutely fantastic and I was giddy to play band groupie for the weekend.

Seriously, check them out. Luke and this band mates are making some great music. They’re 100% gonna make it to the big leagues – no doubt about it!

(Just remember who offered you a bed and shower when you’re rich and famous some day. 😉 )

Check them out here and here!

*Out of the Dark is available on iTunes!*

Book Launch and Unofficial Province Book Tour

Mid-September, after I spent several days personally signing books and writing messages to all the 110 wonderful people who personally bought Lemonade Stand off of me, I packed up my Rav4 and headed across NL to promote and deliver my book to masses.

Through my book tour, I got to meet a lot of new people, listen to other people’s struggles with mental health issues, and talk book writing. It was a great and exhausting two weeks travelling around (and getting lost a few times!). Don’t worry, I plan to honour this experience in a future blog post. (Coming soon!)

Chris de Burg Concert and St. John’s Adventures

In all fairness, I had other motives besides my book tour to head across the province. I had tickets booked to Chris de Burg’s concert with my mama. Having Mom raise me on the right kind of music, I have only been waiting to see him live since I was thirteen. With the launch of his new cd A Better World, it didn’t take much begging and pleading for Mom to agree to come with me.

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I was excited beyond belief when he walked out on stage. I laughed. I cried. I sang at the top of my lungs. (Sorry Mom.) I danced wildly around in my seat. (Sorry Mom.) I clapped a lot and cheered super loud (Again, sorry Mom.), but I had the time of my life. One of the best concerts I’ve been to at Mile One (and that includes The Backstreet Boys). And lets just say, I wasn’t the only one losing my cool when he ended the show with “Patricia the Stripper”. (Right, Mom? 😉 )

 I also planned things for my wedding and finally got to say Yes to the Dress! It took a few hours, a mild panic attack and a few happy tears later, but I’m glad to finally have another item checked off the Thomas Wedding list.

In addition to all the wedding fun, I curbed my adventures back to book research and with the help of my best friend, I spent some time exploring St. John’s, making sure that I was getting details and descriptions right for my upcoming NL novel.

Besides I got to spend a lot of time on Signal Hill, taking in the view (despite the cold) and I finally got to see the Canada 150 sign while getting to pose for some pictures with my bestie at the historic site. I also got to see Quidi Vidi for the first time ever, which was a real treat. (It’s pretty bad I lived here my whole life and I’m only now seeing great land marks. Fail.)

Despite acting like a tourist, I did get a lot of information for my manuscript and I know it will all pay off in the long run when my NL novel is finally complete.

You’re welcome in advance.

    Working on my NL Novel

Once I concluded my book tour, and book research, and my mini vacation home, I finally mucked back to Corner Brook and remained held up in my writing den for weeks on end. While still trying to working on getting We Were Fighters published (and exploring self-publishing options as well), I’ve been spending a lot of time on my new manuscript, a fiction novel based in my home province of Newfoundland.

Knowing that only publishing houses here on The Rock will only take on NL content manuscripts, I’m hoping that this could be my first foot in the door to getting my novels out there. Within three weeks I had banged out over a hundred plus pages, turning my eyes and brain to absolute mush. As I mentioned before, being a writer is lots of pain and fun, and despite being hooked on caffeine and severely sleep deprived, I’m having a lot of fun writing this novel and creating a small taste of NL culture.

But with the goal to have the manuscript finished before Christmas, I still have a long way to go! Writer’s block had me stuck a few times and as a haphazard writer who doesn’t write in linear fashion, I find myself getting caught up in wanting to write the exciting parts vs. “the middle”. A terrible flaw on my behalf.

But don’t worry, I’m a pretty disciplined writer and with less than a hundred pages to go, I’m hoping that by 2018, this could be a potential published work.

Wish me luck.

  Hiking and Halloween Birthday

Of course, October isn’t my favourite month just because CB is absolutely one of the most beautiful places in the world during the fall. I also get to look forward to a string of friends’ birthdays (including my own) and of course, Halloween and lots of horror movies!

While admittedly, October brought about a brief depression episode, I still managed to trudge through most of my writing duties, even if it felt like pulling teeth some days (and bouts of relentless anxiety). A week leading up to my birthday, I could barely pull myself out of bed, and tragically, I lost one of my childhood pets. My dear cat Sam, who was lucky to have eighteen long years of life. He made his journey over the Rainbow Bridge the day before my birthday, so celebrating this year was followed with fleeting moments of sadness and mourning.

Rest peacefully, old man. ❤

But despite losing one of my oldest pals, I did get to spend a wonderful weekend in Gros Morne, hiking with the crowd to celebrate one of my friend’s birthdays. While it was cold, we were severely hungover, and it snowed, we managed to hike Green Gardens without coming across any bears and barely escaping the obvious signs of a huge-ass bull moose. All in all, a successful trip up the Coast.

Thankfully though, I got to end October on a high note. Not only did my birthday fall on a Friday this year, I also got to have a Halloween birthday party with my best friends. Following a week of bad anxiety and fatigue, and the death of my kitty cat, my birthday turned out to be a great night of friends, fun, and laughter – and really how could I ask for more? 

Considering I spent the last two Halloweens either working or stuck on the couch with the stomach flu, I was glad I finally got to put my Phoenix costume to good use. After a few weeks of practicing cosplay makeup and putting finishing touches on my costume, I was able to bring one of my favourite X-Men characters to life. Of course, Zack gave Hugh Jackman a run for his money as a Logan/Wolverine look-a-like.

Besides, we had fun putting off a very funny – and very drunk – photo shoot. We had comic book heroes from all universes, we had some crossover hybrid characters, and witches. But hey, having Lego Batman there was definitely the most fun – especially when trying to watch your bestie struggle to drink through that face mask.

My birthday was a great end to a fast-paced month. Despite all the chaos, and work loads, and the threats of approaching deadlines, it was nice to take a few nights just to enjoy company with those I care about most. Sometimes we get lost in the mundane of every day life, and sometimes we get too caught up in our own lives to remember to spend time with others. So I was grateful for the few moments of peace and hilarity in a busy schedule. ❤

Even though I had lost track of time and let six weeks zip by without realizing how much I had been neglecting my duties to my blog, I am thankful for the chaos and havoc that has been my life for the last several weeks.

Autumn has come and gone before I realized it, and give it a few more day, there will likely be snow on the ground. While I am no where near ready for winter, and even less prepared for the enclosing Christmas season, I’ve been reflecting lately on how lucky I have been this last year – getting to spend my time perusing my writing career. It’s far from perfect, and I’m making nickels compared to the dollars I was making serving tables, but I’m the happiest I’ve been in months, and that’s all that matters. Happiness is all that matters – it’s that hard and that simple.

So what if it means cutting back on ice caps and lattes or spending more nights eating in than out? Being “poor” doesn’t mean being unhappy. I had a great fall and instead of ending this blog post on a big sappy metaphor – how my life is changing like the colour of the leaves (See what I did there?), I’m getting one more season closer to my dreams.

So sometimes life gets hectic and I ignore my duty to my blog.

Sometimes I fall behind on writing duties at the expense of other writing projects, and sometimes I forget to reach out to friends and family more often than not – but that’s life. I’ve been on a wild ride these last two months and I can only wait with anxious breath about the impending winter adventures that I’m sure are in store.

Worst comes to shove, I can always write an apology blog post to make up for it all.

So here’s to next season, and the next blog post. I’ll see you guys soon.

And as always,

Fight the good fight.

-A xo

Adventures, (Unofficial) Book Tour, Endless Ice Caps, Manuscript Writing, and Blog Fails I screwed up. Severely. I committed the biggest, most horrendous crime as a writer and mental health advocate.