#literally the most detailed portrait I’ve ever done

[smeerp]

Oh Crowley. Nothing lasts forever.

[thesinglesjukebox]

OLIVIA RODRIGO - "OBSESSED"

She's the press conference, we're the conversation...

[7.09]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: As previously noted, all of Olivia Rodrigo's art-punk moments are perfectly calibrated toward critics who wish that 1993 never ended, but it's a schtick that works. If Rodrigo was not a tremendously skilled performer, both as vocalist and actor, this would feel tedious. The way she sneers and whispers and whines functions incredibly in her system; the music is slightly too pristine (Dan Nigro, for all of his skills as a producer, has still not figured out how to make distorted guitars sound not-Mutt Langeian), but Rodrigo's calculated derangement elevates her surroundings into something glorious. It helps that the lyrics -- co-written by Annie Clark, who tried and mostly failed to access this kind of heat the last three albums -- are actually caustic and not just fake-mean. The spite is self-directed, the call coming from inside the house. [9]

Alfred Soto: Annie Clark's responsible for the intentional melodic cul-de-sacs in the verses, I assume, while the star and Dan Nigro took care of the chorus' expected clatter. I wouldn't mind "Obsessed" on the radio played between "Like That" and "Fortnight," but she's done better than its metaphoric flatness. [6]

Oliver Maier: Didn't realise there were other bonus tracks, I've been too busy rinsing "so american" [8]. This one is another showcase of Rodrigo's efficient songwriting style: funny, expository verses line up the pins for a bowling ball hook to come screaming down the lane and annihilate them. [7]

Andrew Karpan: "Obsessed" is her sharpest rawk record yet, containing the best application of this guitar riff I’ve heard in a decade. In elevating her conceit to a literal ex-lover battle royale, perhaps something of a gender-twist on Scott Pilgrim, she turns it into something that provokes, like all good Olivia records do. A torch song for nostalgia culture, trapped by the soft, easy comfort of foreclosing on the dreams of yesterday’s future, trapped inside a past whose sounds it will never escape. “I remember every detail you have ever told me, so be careful, baby,” she says. Don’t say we weren’t warned.  [7]

Leah Isobel: I usually enjoy Olivia's intellectual approach, but "Obsessed" feels so precisely, studiously engineered to be the kind of song that teenagers call "sapphic" that it ends up losing me. [5]

Taylor Alatorre: "I like [Olivia] with the melodies, I don't like [Olivia] when she acts tough." [3]

Nortey Dowuona: Somehow this is not the most unflattering portrait of a theater kid whose talent and charm won't win them the undivided loyalty of their partner, and by extension their audience, that we're covering this week. But at least in four years/four months/yesterday we won't be regretfully disavowing it, so full points! [10]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Teenage romance at its most entertaining: unhinged, mean-spirited, and untethered from reality. Olivia, ride those "la-da-da-da, da-da-da"s all the way to the bank. [8]

Mark Sinker: My favourite bassline, my favourite MBV callback, my favourite mood… [10]

Isabel Cole: For me, Rodrigo’s defining moment as an artist remains the opening of SOUR: not “brutal,” which is a bop, but the little intro, where she cuts off some dramatic strings to announce before the guitars kick in: “I want it to be, like, messy.” I find that moment endearing because it feels like she’s trying to convey that she’s aiming for a certain artistic rawness, but doing so in a way that undermines her goal by calling attention to the effort involved in striking the pose. It's a sweetly teenaged thing to do, the musical equivalent of cutting up your jeans just so. Unfortunately, the reason I think about it whenever I hear one of her songs is that I can never quite shake the sense that she’s playacting at all these big emotions. Her vocal affectations -- bananies-and-avocadies whisper-singing, a deliberately tuneless wail -- are common enough in the pop girl universe, and I have nothing a priori against them, but on her they always feel like affectations, lacking pathos or bite. She sings like she’s doing an imitation of someone else, even though she writes her own songs. Sometimes she serves up a jam regardless, but on “obsessed” the hooks are not landing. The track is too muted for tension or darkness, too polished for its own rock-star fantasies. [4]

Katherine St. Asaph: I hate that I don't hate being pandered to this hard. [9]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[chasingpj]

𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫

pairing: leo valdez x child of iris!reader

requested?: yes!

translation: full of color

warnings: uhh, mentions of mental health and ?? maybe some typos lmao

category: headcanons, fluff, best friends to lovers

pre-relationship

though, leo saw you around camp often, you caught interest in him before he caught interest in you

i mean, he literally couldn't miss you because your outfits were always bright, whether it was a combination of colors or monochromatic

you and your siblings actually look like a rainbow threw up on you guys, and it's honestly iconic

no one at camp can not notice the children of iris, especially when they're in a herd

one day, you were sitting alone at a picnic table near the lake, and you found yourself drawing him in your sketchbook

you sketched a portrait of him while he spoke to piper at a table nearby

you've always found the floppy curls and how his brightest smiles always look a little manic to be adorable

when you sketched his portrait in your notebook, you didn’t intend for him ever to see it

until a couple of weeks later in the arts and crafts center, leo passed by and caught sight of a new project you were working on

he stopped in his tracks to compliment your drawing

since you were nowhere near done with it, you couldn’t admire the piece as much as he was

but his enthusiasm was so endearing

he politely asked if he could see more, and you didn’t hesitate to slide over your sketchbook

he noticed a lot of your drawings were scenery and people at camp; especially your siblings

he stumbled across a detailed sketch of a woman and her child sitting in a bus

“wow… who’s this?”

“oh, I don’t know. It was just a little girl I saw on the train with her mother.”

“so you just drew her?”

you never realized how weird your habit of drawing random people was until he had asked

you giggled nervously, quick to explain yourself, “I tend to draw people or things that I find beautiful. I wanted to capture how calm and happy she was with her child ‘cause at the time, I was stressed and angry. Watching and drawing her made me calm.”

leo nodded, a faint smile on his lips before looking back down at the drawing. “that’s really cool,” he complimented, and you shifted in your seat, suddenly shy.

And then it hit you

you were so willing to show leo all your works that you had completely forgotten that his portrait was in that book

your pulse thumped loud in your ears, mind racing to figure out a way to take away your sketchbook before he could see it

you ended up spending so long thinking of what to do that he arrived on the page in no time

right before he could see the drawing in its entirety, you slammed the book closed and snatched it

leo’s startled expression turned into a mischievous smirk

“was that me?”

you froze in your place; a squeaky sound escaped your throat in your embarrassment

leo’s brown eyes sparkled as he leaned into you, your gaze fixed on his, “y/n, you think I’m beautiful?”

AHHHH!

^^ that was you in your head btw

leo laughed, amused at your attempt to deny it

“then why did you snatch it away?” he raises an eyebrow before reaching over quickly to grab the sketchbook back

you didn't pull it out of his reach fast enough, leo getting a grip on one side

the two of you pull it back and forth, leo laughing at you as you continued to deny what he saw

though you were incredibly embarrassed, you couldn't contain the laughter bubbling in your chest

gods, of course, this would happen to me, you thought

he got it out of your grip, and you sighed in defeat, watching him flip to the page of him and piper

he was quiet, studying the picture for a second before giving you that playful smirk

“you think I’m beautiful?” he asked again

you playfully rolled your eyes, “it was more piper than you.”

your tone was sarcastic, only fueling leo’s banter with you

“oh really?” he chuckled to himself, “but i’m the only one colored in.”

you were silent at his observation before scoffing, “whatever.”

leo only laughed as you take the book away from him

“don’t you have somewhere to be, fire boy?” you asked and nudged his shoulder

the glint in your eyes made him smile, and he shrugged, “i guess i do. i'll see you around."

you nodded, too shy to do anything else, and he walked off

after that, leo took it upon himself to talk to you every day

leo teased you about the drawing all the time, and he found the way you would play along to be funny

before you both fell in love, you were close friends

you had such an optimistic point of view about life, and it was pretty contagious

somehow when leo was in the dumps about something, you always knew what to say

you were just so easy to talk to, and because of this, your friendship just grew naturally

your first kiss was towards the end of summer

leo invited you to hang out with him in bunker nine at, specifically, 6 pm

you teasingly asked if it was a date, and you remember the way he tensed up a bit

with a mumble, he asked, "what if it is?"

from the tone in his voice, you knew he wasn’t joking

in fact, his tone was hesitant, a part of him was expecting you to reject him

then the heavy pit in his stomach turned light when you smiled and said, "then I'm down."

the grin leo gave you made your heart flutter like crazy

your first date consisted of eating snacks and watching a movie on one of those portable DVD players

You picked up on the tension between you and him, and noticed the opportunities for a kiss kept passing

it was until Leo walked you to your cabin that night did you have a moment of boldness and asked, "so are you going to kiss me or?"

leo's eyes widen in surprise before his face broke out in the familiar smirk he gives when he flirts with you

you rolled your eyes playfully and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him into you

your first kiss was sweet and soft; a little awkward

his hands hovered over your sides for a second, not sure what to do with them until he decided to rest them on your waist

it was the perfect way to mark the beginning of your relationship

relationship

since you guys are both broke teenagers, you got creative with date nights

you came up with the idea of paint splattering with him

you guys got canvases, covered the walls and floors with plastic to make sure you didn't dirty them

then you filled water balloons with paint and just threw them

despite you guys singing and dancing around in the midst of it, the canvases came out so good

and to commemorate the beginning of your relationship, you hung them up side by side in bunker nine, and when you guys get a place together, you hang them up in the hallway of your apartment

leo is a huge gift giver; as i’ve said before in my “how he shows he loves you” headcanons

he’s made you a lot of things; canvases, jewelry, little trinkets with scrap metal

one of your favorite gifts from him is a suncatcher with rainbow quartz

you fell in love with it and when you move in together, you make sure to hang it up in the kitchen with the bunch of other suncatchers that he’s made you

i love the idea that you would attempt to bring more color in his wardrobe

a lot of his clothes are muted in color; you don’t mind it but you were interested to see what he’d look like in a colorful outfit like yours

To say the least, he was not that enthusiastic and maybe, you shouldn’t have put him in a monochromatic orange outfit but… you still thought he looked cute

leo thought he looked like a traffic cone though so it didn’t stick

it’s okay because you like him the way he is anyways

another thing is that you guys are super supportive of each other and leo loves just how you manage to lift his mood

once leo was having a bad mental health week

you guys were sitting under a tree, looking out at the water

his head laid on your shoulder and small sniffles came from the other

it hurt to see him like this and you wished you could do more to make him feel better

then you had the greatest idea to make a rainbow for him

so you did

leo was so stunned when he saw the rainbow form over the lake

he looked at you surprised and when you admitted to making the rainbow for him, the emotion on his face was indescribable

and then you laughed and held him when he started crying because he said it was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him

another time, you insisted that meditation would be good for him

he literally sat down for like 3 minutes with his eyes closed before he was itching to get up and do something

even when he was sitting down, he was still bouncing his legs and fidgeting

so that fell through too but you still helped him in other ways and he’s so grateful for your optimism and bubbly personality

leo always says that you bring color to everything; literally and figuratively

one of the things you bring color to is his life

and he’s constantly reminding you of this; that his world just feels brighter now that you’re around

and it’s literal too

since you painted the walls of bunker nine a bright orange

he asked you why orange, and you told him because orange encourages productivity, creativity, and most importantly, optimism

it may have also reminded you of the orange outfit you put him into

anyways, you told him that it hurt you to see him get down in the dumps, and you insisted there was no way he could be sad in a bright orange room

needless to say, you were kinda right

masterlists taglist: @nct127bee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @cartocns @slytherclaw-kitten @idk-bye-no @percysbluehairbrush @Hermioneswifeee @quteez @drayshadow @ashookykooky @anything-forourmoony @loverstyless @yelenabel0vaswife @ohmydamgods @jordannfields @amy-writes-blog @muted-mayham @dreamerball @earthtokace @thehighladyofday @lala-llama123 @tootsdoll @slytherindaughterofposeidon0 @black-rose-29 @somekidnamedkai @possiblylostchasecousin @hamdehlesmis @cami05sworld @does-anyone-hear-me @sol-the-salmon

if your username is bolded that means i can’t tag you ! you probably have your visibility settings on!

[twopoppies]

Hi Gina! Hope you are well. If possible, could you rec some fics with really gorgeous writing? Of course every fic you rec is well-written, but I'm talking about those fics you finish about are like "wow that had the most gorgeous, incredible writing!!" When I think of those "Etched in Salt" and "Young and Beautiful" come to mind... any others? I've already looked through your dreamy/hazy rec (loved it thanks so much). Have a great day!!

Hi darling. That rec was for fics with a very particular writing style that I really love (and wish I could emulate), and they all could easily be on this list as well. Also, these are clearly not all the beautifully written fics in this fandom (or even that I’ve read). It’s just a collection of them. 

Night Shift by banaanipoika / @sexpollenallergy (E, 9K) This was incredibly sexy and beautifully written. Everything about it was so unique, from the setting to the use of language. I loved that I felt as though I could smell and feel everything in that hospital room. The added buzz that comes from reading something with just a little bit of gray morality was so welcome!

Hats Off To My Distant Hope by orphan_account (E, 21K) This was such a pleasure to read. The writing feels so effortless as the fic explores the deep emotions of these two characters. They’re stubborn and inarticulate and gentle and passionate and finally, finally open up to each other. I really wish I knew who wrote it because I’d love to read more of their work.

and you still have time to be by loveroflou / @grimmpitch (M, 10K) Sometimes writers try too hard to be poetic, but sometimes their writing is just effortlessly beautiful. This is one of those kinds of fics. It's soft and intimate and full of so much perfectly-described moments of pain and tenderness. Link is to a download

The Sleeping Giant by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup (T, 3K) This author writes the loveliest short stories… this one is filled with beautiful imagery and metaphor and just a hint of melancholy. I wish there were a dozen more chapters in this ‘verse, but it also was perfect just as it is.

you’re writing lines about me by snazzyasalways (T, 4K) This is gorgeously written on that Dreamy, poetic style I happen to love. Louis is a blind poet, Harry is a baker, Harry falls in love with Louis’ words, then with him.

Everything You Do by jishler / @snowjosh (E, 7K) This is my favorite of a 3-part collection (all of which are good), and wow. The author explores gender struggles in way that is incredibly tender and emotional, while still writing a super sexy fic. Loved this one.

Remind Me Again by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry (E, 29K) Every sentence in this fic is so effortlessly beautiful. I love that the miscommunication between them is done in a totally realistic way. The fight and make up like real people do and that makes the angst more painful and the making up more emotional. One of my favorite authors.

may we all have a vision now and then by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry (M, 4K) This author is one of my favorite writers in this fandom and everything they do is infused with so much delicacy and tenderness. I literally cried through this fic because of how wounded Harry’s character feels. Read it and then treat yourself to their whole AO3 catalogue.

Ever Since I Tried Your Way by flowercrownfemme / @lesbianiconharrystyles (E, 26K) I loved everything about this fic, from the setting to the characterizations to the slow way Harry discovers himself and how Louis supports everything about him. It’s just beautifully written and wonderfully moving.

Howls Like A Beast (You Flower, You Feast) by @indiaalphawhiskey (E, 17K) This author’s writing is poetic without being too precious, descriptive in a way that paints a gorgeous portrait without piling on unimportant detail, and their smut is sexy af. I love all of their fics, but this is a personal favorite because it combines so many things I love (supernatural elements, Versailles, Larry, and smut…what more could you want? LOL).

Shot by @sashinalash (M, <1K) This whole series of wordplay fics is gorgeous, but this is my favorite of the bunch. This author uses words so carefully that their fics read like poetry. I love how this one gives you such a full picture of Harry (and Louis) in a really unique way.

Per Aspera by sedfierisentio / @estperpetua (E, 11K) Canon time stamps set between 2016-2019. This author’s writing is something really special. The language is so rich and the visuals they paint all feel so alive and so real. They work in real-life canon moments in such an elegant way that you’re not pulled out of the story and you’re just left to soak in the headiness of the scene they’ve written.

nobody knows like me by enbyharry / @cisharry (GA, 4K) This fic is honest to god gorgeous. It painted such a clear portrait and moved me to tears––there were so many touching moments. Please read it, it’s really something special. 

we can take the long road home by @pinkcords (E, 46K) This was absolutely gorgeous. And it made me cry, damn it. Seriously though, the writing is so beautiful. I loved the characterizations and the way they both showed their vulnerability. I loved the slow pace and the hot smut. I loved this fic

boys aren't supposed to be this pretty by louisandthealien (NR, 1K) Usually I try to rewrite my original notes into something more “intelligent” but this really sums up how I feel: wtf this is the most beautiful thing I've read in ages. You can really feel all of Louis' overwhelm and insecurity. This fic is pure poetry and the way this author uses metaphor? Fuck me.

everything suspended by louisandthealien (M, 9K) Set in the late 1990s/early 2000s, this fic is SO so good. And it’s so angsty and so incredibly well written. I felt every bit of tension and emotion and was so wrung out by the end. But it’s also such a gorgeously crafted fic. I just love it.

No One Like You by myownspark / @myownsparknow (M, 20K) This author writes so beautifully, I would probably read anything they write. This one is so unique and pulled me in, immediately. Harry and Louis are both artists who find themselves on opposite sides of shifting artistic opinions in this moving historical fic.

to the light by fondleeds (NR, 13K) Lovely description, soft and intimate, such a beautiful read.

kiwi by fondleeds (M, 24K) honestly I have trouble putting down anything this author writes…they just build a setting and detail characters in a way that I find really compelling. This one maybe feels slightly OOC, but it’s such a good read I didn’t care at all.

And down the long and silent street by whimsicule (M, 86K) Similar time period to Victorian Boy, although this one focuses much more on the class structure of Victorian England. The romance here is not only between two men, but between men of very different classes – which only adds to the tension of the already intense subplot. This author always writes with great depth and the detail of the setting feels spot on.

Constant Debauchery by Blake (E, 19K) Yes, yes, I know. I’ve probably recommended this 10 times. But have you read it yet? Anyway…Edwardian setting, uni ABO (Alpha/Alpha) fic. Gorgeous mood setting, I’ve said before that it reads like an Merchant Ivory film looks…just gorgeous. There’s a similar sense of repression and uncertainty about flouting societal expectations, and a character who appears one way on the surface, but underneath is quite different. I love this one, I’ve read it a number of times.

I'll Be Your Love Tonight by @dinosaursmate (E, 20K) There’s something about this fic that just feels slow and dreamy. I’ve read it a few times and I just love how they fall into each other and keep extending the night because they don’t want to part ways.

Long Road to Love Leads Back to You by myownspark / @myownsparknow (E, 10K) I probably could list all of this author’s fics here, but this was one of the first of theirs I read and it’s stuck with me for years. They use language so beautifully and have written such an incredibly touching portrayal of long term love and longing. 

just a dream by BriaMaria (M, 5K) I just love this author’s writing, in general, but this one is very different from their others. It’s magical and melancholy and I would like 50K more of this ‘verse. It’s so lovely. 

maybe by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry (GA, 2K) I adore this short little fic. It’s gentle and moving and makes me feel so much. This author writes beautifully. Always. But not nearly often enough. 

wake the morn and greet the dawn (with hearts entwined and free) by mixedfandomfics (T, 21K)I cried the first third of the way through this because this author painted such a beautiful picture of Harry’s  emotions, his found family, and the setting. I love how they slowly unraveled Louis’ story and the tender, sweet way they ended up together. And Niall!! The best fried/brother you could ask for.

the sound of my heart needs the sound of another heart by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry (GA, 3K) Set in the 1980s, it’s beautiful and delicate and feels like such a slice of high school and tentative summer love.

wishing you were them by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry (T, 20K) This author always has such a lovely way with words. This fic, in particular, does a great job depicting deep depression and Louis’ need for Harry. Although, the depression here is compounded by the specifics of Harry and Louis’ relationship, which makes it all the more moving.

Carry These Feelings by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup (GA, 3K) This was just lovely and mysterious and sweet. I loved their banter and the whole description of Harry traveling the world, remembering and collecting feelings. It’s totally unique and you should give it a read!

The Way You Smile Golden by PearlyDewdrops (M, 6K) Beautifully written slice of life where I just felt everything this author described––from the stuffy bar to the freezing beach to the confusing emotions both characters had. It’s just lovely.

Amor Victorious by HappyPrincess / @pattern-pals (E, 39K) My actual original notes when I first read this fic: “What even is this? Oh my god. I loved this. Beautiful writing, gorgeous use of description, a slow meandering trip through Italy, but never boring. Beautifully paced. Louis giving in is done so delicately”. 

bruised fruit by orphan_account (E, 1K) This one is a perfect little slice of a moment. It’s super short but beautifully written and you really get a sense of their closeness and how well they understand each other. 

we can take the long way home by eleadore (E, 27K) This story is gorgeously written (like everything this author does), so well-paced, and I just find the way their relationship is written to be so touching and realistic.

Fertile Ground by Blake (E, 4K) This author explores gender and body acceptance in a way I haven’t seen done much in this fandom, and their writing is so moving. Like, every line packs a punch. This one, in particular, is such a moving portrait of Harry’s struggles with how others see him and how he sees himself, and Louis’ support as they figure it out together.

Strange How the Half Light by aheavenlyrush (T, 4K) This is one of those fics that I read and loved and rushed to see what else the author had written. And then I cried because it’s the only one. But it’s such a beautifully written portrait of longing and innocence. You should read it!

as we move slowly by snsk (GA, 3K) Just truly gorgeous, poetic writing and a little bit of magical realism.

I would name the stars for you (I would take you there) by orphan_account (M, 91K) This is just beautifully written. Angst. Mutual pining. Dumb boys. Beautiful descriptions of art and creativity and fame and beautiful poetry. 

for now (and forever) by orphan_account (M, 83K) Really moving, beautifully crafted fake relationship / friends to lovers story. It’s been a long time since I read this one, but I remember being really touched by it (and wishing there was more smut....but what else is new? LOL!).

and the two you mention:

Young & Beautiful by velvetoscar (M, 227K) This fic is beautifully wordy and descriptive (which isn’t for everyone) and the characters are pretty OOC, but I just love everything about it. I know that doesn’t sound like a recommendation, but truly the writing is poetry, the characters are so well-developed, the visuals and setting have stuck with me for years––there’s a reason this one is a classic.

Etched in Salt (is a cathedral of the world) by @helloamhere (E, 24K) You all know I love this author’s writing –– this time they give us a dark, American, thriller with a bit of psychic goodness. Bonus points for Harry taking care of Louis in a very deep way.

[spencersawkward]

omg i’m so glad u have a tumblr!! ur literally my fav mgg fic author ❤️ i’m a hoe for that man can u do sleeping together for the first time with like an age gap or something spicy lmao

hi omg thank you 😊 that literally means the world to me! also thank you for requesting one of my fave things to write haha i love first-time-having-sex-together tropes. happy reading! 

summary: reader is an artist who needs some inspiration, preferably from her new boyfriend.

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, age gap, creampie, a little breeding kink, oral (male receiving), kind of Dom!Matthew vibes, dirty talk, praise kink with a hint of degradation as well (not super prominent). 

word count: 4.4k

relationship: Fem!Reader/Matthew

masterlist

I straighten up and bend backward a bit to relieve the pressure on my spine. my hair is falling out of the knot on my head and I push a stray piece behind my ear, placing the wooden paintbrush between my teeth. aside from the warm, mellifluous tones pouring from the speakers, the apartment is silent.

I've hit a creative wall, it seems. every time I've tried to paint this week, I find myself standing above a stretched canvas with nothing but a frown and crossed arms. even little details feel wrong to add; the empty space is taunting me. it doesn't help that my thoughts have been flooded with memories and fantasies of Matthew. we've been on a couple dates now, sweet outings that leave me fluttery inside. I remember the words he says, the shape of his smile and the curve of his jaw, like they've been been in my mind forever. he's elusive, however, and hasn't initiated anything sexual with me. I think he's afraid of coming on too strong. there's a considerable age gap between us, but I don't care. I want him all the time-- whenever I'm at work, or trying to paint, all I can think of is how good it would feel to have those strong, veined hands on me.

christ.

before I can lose my courage, I text him. if anything can inspire me, it's his presence. likely, he's at work and won't be able to respond or come over, but it's worth a shot.

I'm just sliding my phone into my back pocket when the response comes in. a smile spreads over my face; he'll be over in half an hour. in the meantime, I'll sweep the background with shades that remind me of him: rich, emerald greens, honeyed tones that reminisce of his eyes. he'll pop against any backdrop.

I'm bent furiously over my work when he tells me he's arrived, and my heart thuds in my chest. even after hanging out several times, the butterflies are as alive as ever. they flood my stomach while I buzz him into the building.

"hi." he greets me when I open the door, curls messy. he must have just come from work.

"hi, Matthew." I smile up at him. his gaze travels over my face, my body, taking in my appearance for a moment.

"you look lovely." he says it genuinely, despite the fact that I'm literally wearing a paint t-shirt under a pair of rummaged overalls. I forgot to fix my hair, too.

"thanks." I blush, about to turn away when he bends down and presses a gentle kiss to my lips. it's the first time he's said hello that way, and part of me flushes with the knowledge that he's attracted to me right now.

"now," he looks around my apartment as I step back to let him in. "what can I help you with?"

"I have a small favor to ask." I spin the paintbrush between my index and third fingers, reaching out to take his wrist and pull him towards the couch.

"anything," he replies, then sees my setup. "is this your studio?"

"slash living room." I chuckle. Matthew sits on the soft cushions before staring up at me. I don't miss his pupils dilating as they travel over the shape of my body. instead of allowing myself get distracted, I gesture to the wet paint on my canvas. "I need you to model for me."

"like, be your muse?" he beams at the notion, incredibly pleased with himself. I like this about Matthew; although he can be self-deprecating and doesn't take himself too seriously, he appreciates my admiration.

"oh, hush." I giggle. he laughs, reclining on the couch now that he knows why I invited him over.

"how do you want me to pose, Picasso?"

"well, let me re-orient myself." I hold up a hand, grab the abandoned easel, and try to get everything set up. he never takes his eyes off me.

"why were you painting on the floor?" he asks, slightly amused. I jerk my head toward him, narrow my eyes.

"it's my process."

"no judgement." he holds up his hands in surrender. I place the canvas carefully on the easel so that he can't see my work, then gather up my paints, palette, and brushes. there's a moment of pure silence when I frown as I glance between his face and the chasm of space awaiting its representation.

"you look tired." I observe. he lets out a sound that resembles a laugh.

"I am."

"how long did you sleep last night?" I ask as I start painting, focusing on the shape and planes of his face. if I don't get the composition exactly correct, I'll have to throw the whole thing out.

"three hours." he says this like it's normal. my eyebrows shoot up.

"three hours? why?"

"I had to work on lines." he shrugs.

"don't move." I order. he suppresses a grin.

"my sincerest apologies."

"uh huh," I dip my brush into a pale skin shade that I've mixed to match his pigment. "you need to get more sleep."

we continue on like this for a while, making light conversation while I get down the basics of my portrait. I can't handle anything that requires more than a fraction of my attention while doing this, and he seems to appreciate my concentration.

that said, it's beyond difficult to focus when he stares at me like every movement is magical, something he wants to memorize. I feel pliable under his watch, a little bit like a doll. he could bend me every which way, ask me to do anything, and I would give in. and who could blame me?

my thoughts slip into darkened territories, and the hue of my cheeks must do the same, because he gets this mischievous smile on his face that I can't ignore.

"what are you thinking about?" he asks softly.

"hm?" I turn to him. "oh, nothing."

"really?" his brows lift in that intimidating, delightfully entertained way that sets my skin on fire.

"I..." I trail off, wondering if I should give into the chaos in my mind. the thoughts that slash through my psyche whenever I see the width of his shoulders, the fit of his shirt. "I should have asked you to pose nude."

Matthew blushes-- actually blushes-- when I say this, his head dropping momentarily as a grin takes over his features. when he lifts his gaze to mine again, there's a different look in his eyes.

"yeah?"

"mhmm." no taking it back now. "I think that would be too distracting, though."

"how so?" the corner of his mouth tugs up.

"you know why." I avert my attention, only once flitting back to him. his tongue darts out over his lips and he holds contact.

"say it." he dares me. the tone of it, slightly dominant, makes my stomach flip. quietly, I swallow the lump in my throat.

"I have trouble keeping my hands to myself."

we stare at each other, words finding and dying on tongues in the silence.

at this point, my painting has been somewhat abandoned. brushstrokes sit unaccompanied by actual structure, except for the general godly shape of his face, and I'm clenching the utensil between my fingers as if to channel the sexual tension elsewhere.

"is that right?" he notes my absolute stillness and stands up, walking toward me in a relaxed, confident gait. all I can do is look up at him when he stands before me. the top button of his shirt is undone, and I can see the smooth skin beneath, each of the other buttons awaiting my fingertips.

"yes." the word is messy. he runs his index finger over the shell of my ear, bends down, whispers so low that the phrase almost gets lost in the air.

"me too."

he plants a gentle kiss on my jaw, hand reaching tentatively to rest on my waist. I can feel the caution in his actions, the worry he has about pressuring me. I'm cognizant of every breath he takes, especially the hitch when I give into myself and kiss him.

his mouth is warm and soft. the tension twists and knots between our bodies, roiling in the empty space as we resist the energy still. but I don't want to resist. I know that I want this, and he seems to want it just as much.

"Matthew." I pull away, his teeth tugging gently on my bottom lip.

"what is it?" his eyes, dark, search mine. my pulse quickens beneath my skin.

"I want to be with you."

"you are with me." he chuckles lightly, glancing at my features. the full circles of my eyes, the bloom of pink spreading over my cheekbones.

"no," I shake my head. "I mean... I want to be with you."

"you want to have sex?" he asks, clarifying. I nod eagerly, though he frowns a bit. "are you sure?"

"do you not want to?" I try to keep the disappointment out of my face. maybe I misread the situation. the most we've done is make out on his couch and once in an Uber on the way back from our first date. but there's a sweet, burning sensation whenever I see him, something I want to dive into. I want him; I've wanted him since the moment we met.

"of course I want to," he says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. relief loosens my chest. "I just don't want you to regret anything."

"I couldn't ever regret this." my eyes travel over his frame, over the little scar beneath his chin. he angles my face up to examine my features. there's a smirk on his face.

"then what are we waiting for?" his hands move to encircle my waist, tugging me to him like I'm something long-awaited, like he needs my weight against his. our lips meet again, my head tilting as we kiss deeply, my fingers twining in his soft hair. I'm standing on my tiptoes as I do it, and one of his hands reaches down to squeeze my ass. he grunts as my pelvis moves against the quickly-forming hard-on in his pants. I can feel it against my stomach as he ruts against me just slightly. I smirk.

"sit on the couch again." I whisper when I pull away. he's holding my face with one hand, staring into my eyes with the kind of dominance that tells me he knows exactly what to do. but I appreciate that he follows my request, pulling my hips toward him as he backs up and sinks onto the cushions. he sits, awaiting my next move. when I sink onto my knees and settle between his legs, he bites hard on his lip. I don't move at first, willing to draw out this beautiful moment when he's watching with undivided attention.

"what are you doing down there, sweetheart?" he feigns innocence when I give him my doe eyes. I run slender fingers over the erection in his pants, his quickened breath an indicator of just how needy he secretly is. I revel in it.

my free hand wraps around his upper thigh, digging my nails in slightly. he's so gorgeous, and the tension of his muscles beneath me is enough to break my resistance. I start to palm him through the fabric, torturing slowly while he runs fingers through my hair and tries not to buck up against my touch. I finally get around to undoing the button on his pants. he waits impatiently. I tug them down his legs, lingering on the waistband of his boxers. when they come down as well, another kind of knot forms in my tummy. he's perfect.

"oh my god." he throws his head back when his dick hits his stomach, the pleasure of releasing it its own sensation.

"hm?" I wonder aloud, wrapping my hand around the base and starting to slowly pump him. he raises his head to look at me.

"you're just... doing so well." he breathes. I grin at how easily I've got him; I was worried about being too shy or him being more experienced, but he's greedy for me. I love the power I have right now.

I surprise him by flattening my tongue against the underside of his cock, dragging it up over the throbbing vein and pausing at the top. I let him stare at me with my mouth hovering over him, the head resting on the tip of my tongue. he moans when I begin to kitten lick the precum that leaks out, grip tightening in my hair as it comes out of the ponytail I made earlier. the veins in his arm clench as I sink slowly onto him. my cheeks hollow. his jaw drops open, dewy skin catching the light, as I start to suck on him.

"fuck..." he trails off. I begin to bob up and down, doing tricks with my tongue and swirling around the head, savoring every single second. his desperate touch, the way he bucks his hips up involuntarily when I try to take him to the hilt, all of it causes me to moan. vibrations draw out sinful noises from him as well, those heavenly sounds that he litters with my name. my hands rest on his thighs at first, then move up to rest on the warm, taut skin of his abdomen. I crave every centimeter of his skin, his contact, especially when I can feel the rushed rise and fall of his panting. I give him full use of my throat, sliding over him and moaning with every tug of my hair. he mutters profanities, praises me, struggles to keep his eyes open just to see me peek up at him from beneath my lashes. his expression tells me he's got plans for me.

"if you don't stop, I'm gonna cum, baby." he groans, smoothly tugging me off of him. there's a slight popping sound and I settle onto my knees, staring up at him. the smile on my face is unmistakable. I love that I can do this to him. I grip his legs and pull myself up into his lap, drawing myself across him just before his erection, glancing down at it. his hands rub over the tops of my thighs, tracing over the curve of my hips and resting on my ass. I start to roll my body down, my lips finding his throat as I suck and bite. my tongue licks over his Adam's apple and he shudders, drawing me closer so that my stomach brushes his cock.

"stop teasing." he starts to undo the straps of my overalls, chuckling a bit to himself as they fall easily. I blush.

"pretty sexy." I joke. Matthew suddenly grabs my chin, holds me in place so that I look him dead in the eyes.

"you're perfect." he smiles admiringly, then toys with the hem of my t-shirt. I reach down, pull it off and toss it somewhere in the room. I'm not wearing a bra, and Matthew slides his hands up my waist, ribcage, pausing just below my tits. when I grab his fingers and place them over me, his dick twitches.

"excited?" I smirk. his fingertips seem to have a mind of their own as they begin to toy with my nipples, the pad of his thumbs teasing me. I sigh, chest pushing out towards him desperately. he holds my body like he's worried I'll crumble, but also in a way that connotes a deep longing. something spilling over.

"can I take you to the bedroom?" he asks me breathlessly, one of his hands leaving my chest to stroke his own cock. the sight makes me groan helplessly while I grip his shoulders and grind against his lap. he picks up the pace for himself. "I can't wait any longer."

I nod eagerly, gasping when he stops touching himself to pull up his pants, hoist me up into his arms, and stand, carrying me with surprising ease down the hallway of my apartment. I point him to the correct room and he laughs when we get inside.

"you're messy." he laughs, although I'm not sure if he means the scattered papers around my bedroom or the whine that issues from my throat as I reach for his clothed dick while I'm pressed to him. it's sitting against my navel and I want to see his undone expressions.

I ignore the playful comment; he lays me down gingerly on the bed, straightening up to gaze at my figure before I push the rest of the overalls down my legs and cast them off. he lets out a giggle as I pout at the work I have to put into getting naked.

"stop laughing..." I blush, smiling. but I'm giggling too. he grazes the inside of my thigh, unable to keep from touching me while I discard my panties.

"I'm sorry." he laughs in a way that shows he isn't sorry at all, but the soft kiss he plants on my lips tells me it's all endearing to him. I wrinkle my nose slightly. for the first time being naked around him, I feel surprisingly comfortable. he watches me with a quiet adoration, like I've spun sugar and gold between my fingers. unable to contain myself anymore, I grab fistfuls of his shirt and undo the rest of the buttons. every second that his skin isn't against mine is a new kind of torture. it comes off easily and then the pants come off, too, until we're just staring at each other.

"do you still wanna do this?" he speaks carefully with me. I don't know where to look-- at his perfect chest, stomach, the purplish bruises already forming across his throat, or his enraptured face. it's almost overwhelming, and the waves of desire crash over me, hindering my words.

"yes," I nod. "yes, yes, yes." the word keeps falling from my lips even as he crawls on top of me, burying his nose into my collarbone and kissing feverishly. one hand supports his arm beside my head while the other reaches down to part my legs. I sigh at the cool air that's interrupted by his dick rubbing over my folds. he starts to grind down, drawing out every second of foreplay while I try to catch my breath. my eyes tilt to the ceiling, fluttering shut. I bask in every sensation. his warmth, his weight, all of it presses down.

"do we need a condom?" he asks softly, his cock throbbing against my center.

"birth control." I shake my head. he nods against my skin, allows me to tangle my fingers in his curls. "I'm clean."

"me too." I reply. he grabs my hip and yanks it towards him, pulling his chest away to straighten while he lines himself up at my entrance. he's concentrating on the place where our bodies meet, eyes full of lust when they peek up at mine.

"tell me if you need me to stop." he says softly.

"okay." I can't think of anything else. every cell of my existence is consumed with thoughts of impatience, and when he slides into me, my thighs tense and my mouth drops open.

"Matthew... oh my god." my voice is more like a mewl, in shock as my walls squeeze around him like they're trying to reject the sudden pressure between my legs. his jaw clenches, sinking into me until he reaches about halfway.

he lets out a surprising groan, leans down to kiss my shoulder as he finds a sweet spot. our chests are pressed together and, judging by the way he wraps an arm around my waist and lifts my torso to his, he likes the feeling.

we stay there a moment, him trying not to hurt me. but then I lift my pelvis up, trying to take more, and he inhales sharply.

"do something," I beg him quietly. "please."

I feel his lips curl into a smile and he pulls his face up to see my expressions. his hips push forward, my body sliding up the bed with the force. he watches my eyes roll back, my ribcage expand, my face overcome by pleasure. his gaze is unrelenting with lips slightly parted as he begins to thrust in and out of me.

I'm already a panting, moaning mess beneath him. he touches his nose to mine, swallowing each other's breaths while he moves.

"is this how you want it, baby?" he smirks, getting lost in his own lust. I nod and he gently turns my face to his. "tell me what you want."

"more." I sigh, hips again raising to meet the thrusts that are growing more forceful each time. my nails drag up his back, the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair and tugging at the ends. he sinks his teeth into my neck lightly and moans. I wrap my legs around his torso.

"such a pretty girl..." he growls in my ear. his grip on the sheets tightens when I clench myself around him, drawing him impossibly closer to my core. I can't help the helpless moans spilling out of me. I'm insatiable right now, scratching at his shoulders until I'm sure I'll leave red marks. he groans lasciviously at the clawing, ramming into me with an unrelenting voracity.

"oh my god," I yelp, back arching as he hits my g-spot. "right there, Matthew." my pleas fall on receptive ears: he holds me tighter to his chest and pounds into me.

"you like getting fucked by older men?" he whispers dirty things in my ear and I nod quickly, hardly able to speak through the ungodly sounds escaping my mouth. I cling to him and he lets me, treating every limb like it belongs to him.

"yes-- fuck, yes." I moan, almost sliding out of his grip from how hard he goes.

"you can take it," he breathes out, fingertips digging into my ribs while he holds me up. he's leaving marks that won't go away for a while, remnants of the full power of his desire. I want more, writhing and using my limited mobility to grind against him. he chuckles darkly over my skin. "look at you."

"Matthew, I'm gonna--" I gasp when he slams into me particularly hard. "I'm gonna cum."

"good." he shudders slightly, that attitude showing again. he reaches his hand up a moment to run through my hair. "cum on me, princess."

my lips part and I try to gulp down air, but it's impossible with the way he's holding my attention. the thing about Matthew is that he's so sweet and gentle that whenever he looks at me like I'm a plaything, it shocks my insides. they turn to jelly, eager to please and quick to satisfy. he switches so easily with me, and he doesn't even need to request my submission. I give it more than willingly.

"fuck me..." I pant out, feeling my pussy start to clench over and over around him. my orgasm fuzzies the edges of my vision, creeping up my spine until it's arched. "oh fuck-- Matthew!" I practically scream while my frame gives out. I'm shuddering, crying out at the absolute euphoria wracking my body.

"scream my name, baby." he groans, his own orgasms approaching quickly. the fluttering of my cunt around him is causing the vein in his forehead to throb. he rocks into me, the headboard knocking into the wall while he nears the edge. "such a good girl for me."

I nod and meet his thrusts with my hips while I ride out my orgasm, inadvertently finding myself wound up again. the pleasure of his fingers when they reach between our bodies to rub my clit causes me to buck into him, whining mercifully while he gets me off again.

"oh--" he sucks in a breath when I squeeze, keeping him here with me. "you feel so good."

he starts to lose control, hips juddering to get as deep as he can get.

"can I fill you up, baby?"

"yes." I reply immediately. he smiles a little, lifting me up more so that he can hold me under my ass while he pounds into me so deeply, I can feel his dick brushing my cervix.

"oh my god," he moans, the sound desperate as I feel him twitch and spill inside of me. he keeps pushing as though to keep his cum within me, panting over my skin. "such a tight little cunt."  

the circles on my clit, combined with the sinful things he continues to say, cause me to whimper and climax all over again. I moan his name, absorbed in the warmth of his seed in my stomach.

"you want more?" he slows his thrusts but pleasures me through my orgasm while I nod helplessly.

"I'll cum in you again tonight." he promises, taking my shaking, weak form as a sign to withdraw. both of us wince at the sensitivity until he lays me back down on the bed so gently, it makes me question if what we just did was real.

neither of us speaks for a moment, trying to regain our composure as he rolls down onto the mattress beside me. I stare up at the ceiling, feeling him drip between my thighs.

"that was..." he turns his head to gauge my reaction. I don't even bother to hide the satisfied grin on my face.

"amazing."

"yeah?" he rolls over onto his side and places one large hand on my stomach. his touch makes me bloom.

"mhmm." I hum. his face is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, a beautiful sight that makes me want to kiss him all over again. I didn't know it was possible to feel this way for someone so quickly.

"can I get you anything?" he smiles. I don't say anything at first, only reach out to cup his face in my hands and pull him to me for a chaste peck.

"no, thank you." I rub my nose with his. "I'm gonna take a shower and make something to eat if you want to join me."

"definitely." he examines my features once more as if to assess damage. but there's only pure joy painted across my face. "are you sure I didn't go too hard on you?"

"you can go harder tonight." I tease.

"what about your painting?" he suddenly recalls the project lying in the living room.

"rain check." I shrug. he laughs, wraps an arm around my waist.

"alright, then."

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™ | Planning The Trip

Part One of my "Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™" headcanon series

Includes: (The Whole Gang) Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Vision, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeyson

Word Count: 3.9k

Relationships: The Avengers x F!Reader, Ambiguous; just how we like it ;)

Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™ Master List

→The whole idea starts when the team is lounging at the compound doing regular™ team things

→A.K.A Wanda, y/n, Pietro, and Vision are in a pile on one of the couches cuddling, Clint and Nat are across the room playing pool, Bucky is making ramen in the kitchen, Steve is trying to convince Bucky to add an egg or something for more protein, Bruce and Stephen are talking neuroscience and bickering over techniques of spinal fluid something, Thor and Loki are fighting over the remote before Loki finally rolls his eyes and picks up the book y/n had left on the coffee table, Sam is asleep on the floor, and Tony is just tired

→In the madness though he picks up on the conversation happening between the four people on the couch

→“You’ve never been to Disney World?”

→Three rounds of “no” “nope” “I’ve only had a body for a year, y/n. When would I have gone to Disney World?”

→”Okay, yeah, good point, Vis. But y’all would love it. I haven’t been since high school but I want to go again so bad. We need a vacation.”

→Tony doesn’t even stick around to hear the rest, he’s already walking away while speaking to FRIDAY, telling her start pulling up the Disney site and analyzing it, disappearing to his lab and using all of his monitors to compare the resorts and try to decide where to stay that everyone would like (and where they would all fit because there’s too many of them)

→It doesn’t take him long to realize they’re going to need large accommodations

→Bruce is the first to notice that he’s gone, sneaking into the lab and scaring the hell out of Tony

→“Whatcha’ doing?”

→“Ah shit-- Bruce! How are you so quiet?”

→And then he points to the seven open listings on the monitors and explains that the team needs a break and that he heard y/n talking about Disney World and that he wants to surprise the team-- Bruce agrees immediately (the man is always in need of relaxation)-- and that’s how the team’s geek squad ends up playing Disney Dad #1 and Disney Dad #2 and planning the most extravagant vacation in less than three hours

→They have it down to a science after the first twenty minutes-- dividing what needs to be done and tackling it individually while bouncing ideas off one another

→“Do you think they want to eat at Beauty and The Beast Castle or Ariel’s Grotto the second night?” “I’m not sure-- book them both.” “Tony we can’t--” “FRIDAY, book them both.” “You got it Mr. Stark.”

→There’s a lot of Bruce wondering if what they’re booking is too expensive and even more of Tony reminding him that he’s a literal billionaire and that he could buy the Disney company if he wanted to-- that still doesn’t stop Bruce from suggesting more frugal methods from time to time-- it only makes Tony want to spend even more money because you need to lighten up, Banner

→The next person who realizes Tony and Bruce are gone is-- surprisingly-- Sam

→Honestly it’s only because he has to pass Tony’s lab on the way back from his room and he sticks his head in to tell them that “Romanoff and Barton ordered pizza if y’all want any… holy crap is that Disney World? Are we going to Dis--”

→Tony literally grabs him by the collar and tells him to hush it, birdman before pulling him into the room and explaining his plans for the second time-- “Yes, we are going to Disney World and I want it to be a surprise.”

→Sam just nods, his eyes on the screen and his brows beginning to push down and-- “Okay but why are you booking dinner at Mickey’s Backyard Barbecue on the same day that you have fast passes for World of Color at Epcot?”

→And Tony and Bruce blink and are just like “What?”

→And Sam is already at the computer, fingers stuttering over the weird ass hoverscreens while pulling up the page which shows that the World of Color has a whole ass dining experience-- Tony and Bruce have no clue that was even a thing-- and suddenly Sam is the one telling them what to plan because, as it turns out, this man loves Disney World and has been upwards of thirteen times and knows it inside and out

→Thank gods for Sam because these two Disney Dads™ were really shooting blindly into the abyss of trip planning without ever having gone to Disney World-- he has to shift around fast passes, dining reservations, water park tickets, and even the family portrait session that Tony demanded Bruce add

→He shows them all the things they don’t even think to plan-- firework shows, dessert parties, literally all of Downtown Disney-- Tony wants to be mad but he’s too busy picking his jaw up off the floor when Sam manages to book them for an After Dark Party in Magic Kingdom

→Bruce gets so excited when Sam tells him that’s a thing that he almost gives the plan away when Natasha comes rushing to see what all the noise is (it’s Banner jumping up and down like a toddler) -- he has to rush to the doorway, make up a lie about him dropping a piece of equipment, and then walk her back to the common area and play a round of pool with her to keep her questions at bay

→It’s all fine because Sam puts the final touches on the plan and has Tony give the order for FRIDAY to book it all and then it’s ready to tell the team

→They sneak back into the common area, it’s nine pm and everyone just looks so worn out

→Stephen is literally half way to snoring, legs curled under him on the love seat, doing that thing people do when they’re falling asleep and their head slumps and then they spring back awake, repeating the process an embarrassing amount of times but nobody’s even paying attention

→Steve and Bucky are talking quietly in the corners about whether or not they should just go to sleep because it’s Thursday and there’s really no point in staying up any longer

→Clint and Thor are sharing a bag of popcorn and half watching John Wick while discussing the inaccuracies of the movie-- “If he had a bow none of this would have happened.” “Or a hammer.” “Yeah, that too.”

→Yeah, they’re exhausted, and it makes the Disney Dads™ and Sam that much more excited to share the news

→Sam’s twiddling his hands behind his back and sharing smiles with Banner who’s trying to keep his excitement at bay and Tony is rolling his eyes but smiling too and for a moment nobody notices their cheshire grins and nervous foot tapping until finally y/n lifts her head from Pietro’s chest-- who complains at the action and lifts his head too-- and lazily asks

→“Tones, what on earth are you smiling about?”

→And the man opens his mouth but before he can even get the words out Bruce and Sam are already jumping up and down again and screaming “We’re going to Disney World!”

→And the room goes dead silent for three beats-- one, two, three-- and it feels like a million seconds and Tony’s face is dropping slowly and he’s ready to be like sike and then she jumps up, literally stepping on Pietro’s stomach, hurtling the back of the couch like a damn track star and rushing the man at full force, flinging herself at him and jumping into his arms and there are tears streaming down her face and she’s screaming

→“Tony you didn’t! Oh my gods you didn’t! You’re lying oh my god no! Are you serious?”

→And he’s nodding but he still can’t get a word in edgewise because she’s still rambling-- “You heard me oh my gods! You heard me and you did it! Tony that’s insane and reckless and oh my god I love you! Are we actually going? This isn’t a trick? Please don’t let this be a trick!”

→And he just laughs and spins her around and tells her that no, this isn’t a trick I’m not the mischief god here and Loki rolls his eyes but he’s also kind of excited despite the frown on his face

→They’re all excited

→Pietro and Wanda and screaming with Sam, slapping each other and just full on freaking out like children, incoherent and happy and raring to just go already

→In turn this wakes Stephen up who hears the madness and jumps up, on edge and ready to literally fight before he realizes what’s going on and calmly sits back down, nodding his head but not speaking because if this literal grown man opens his mouth he knows he’s going to freak out too because holy shit Disney World-- even sorcerers like Disney!

→Steve and Bucky are kind of confused-- they just barely remember Snow White when it came out but Disney World? They made a-- what is it? A theme park? Regardless they’re excited, ready to break the old men lull they’ve fallen into-- Bucky hears y/n ask if Tony booked water park tickets and gets super excited

→Vision is also confused but he sees everyone getting turnt over Disney World and decides that he is also excited-- Wanda momentarily stops being hyped up to ask him if he’s waterproof in which he goes into explicit detail about how yes, he is and he’ll show her if she’d like and she has to slap her hands over his mouth and tell him to hush

→Thor and Clint also turn into children but they’re the run around the room yelling types as opposed to the stand in a circle and scream types-- the gang is apparently just like fifteen children who barely manage to get things done apparently because they’re all hyped as fuck

→Clint sprints over to Nat whose hands are already up, ready to fight the man off because she knows what’s coming, but he’s too fast and too happy and uses all his assassin training to dodge her kick, grabbing her around the waist and spinning her around until she’s giggling and slapping his back

→“Natty we’re going to fucking Disney World!”

→“I know you lug, I heard Stark too. Let me down!”

→He doesn’t-- he just shakes her harder, cheering with the rest of them

→Thor slumps down next to his brother, nudging his shoulder-- “Migardians are strange”-- and Loki nods but pulls out his phone and starts looking up what’s actually at Disney World and-- “Look, brother, our home… wait is that us?”-- and the brothers get sucked into a rabbit hole of the Norwegian pavilion and whatever the hell the Frozen ride is and why their pictures are there

→It takes thirty minutes for everyone to calm down enough for them to actually have a conversation about what on earth Tony and Bruce and Sam did-- it takes another ten minutes after that for Stephen to finally break through the chatter to ask the most important question-- “Guys, seriously. You can ask about the plans after. The main question here is when are we going.”

→And Tony glances at Bruce and shrugs and is like “Tomorrow.”

→And they all erupt again-- y/n and Wanda because they have to pack and Stephen because normal people don’t just up and go on Vacation, you’re supposed to make time and Clint and Pietro because holy shit we’re going to Disney tomorrow!-- but Tony just brushes the worry off and reminds them-- again-- that they’re superheroes and that he’s a billionaire and that they can go on vacation whenever they damn want

→Cue fifteen more minutes of freaking out and y/n tackling Tony and then tackling Bruce and then, finally, tackling Sam who scoops her up and all but tosses her in the air before thanking her profusely for putting the idea in Tony’s brain

→They spend the next few minutes fangirling together-- Sam raves about all the food he’s going to eat-- Mickey bars, corn dogs, pretzels, those huge turkey legs-- and y/n talks about how she wants to get all the autographs she can-- especially Goofy and Pluto-- and then Sam mentions the After Dark Party and, like Bruce, she freaks out

→Finally Wanda has to split them up, grabbing y/n with one hand and hauling her over to the other redhead who’s still being held hostage by the resident archer and grabbing Nat with the other-- when Clint protests she curls her fingers, warning him with a pinch of red magic, and he holds his hands up, backing away slowly but telling Nat she’d better come see him before they leave

→On the way out Steve asks where they’re going and Wanda almost threatens him too until Nat tells him they’re going to pack for tomorrow-- he then turns to Bucky and reiterates the idea to a less than enthusiastic super soldier who tries to argue that I can pack in the morning but Steve just isn’t having it-- it takes five minutes but finally Buck agrees (but only after Steve says Bucky can just throw his stuff in his bag)

→The girls spend the rest of the night giggling and packing, holding up dresses and putting them down, shoving things in each other's bags and dancing to a playlist of oldies from Wanda’s phone-- Nat is the most boring packer but after some threats to get resident archer involved she gets her act together

→Pietro comes in when he’s done and Wanda scoffs at what he has packed but he only shrugs, slumping on y/n’s bed and giving her grabby hands until she rejoins him

→“But Pietro what if I forget something?”

→“You worry too much-- can’t Stange make portals?” He has a point

→What they all pack:

→Tony: Suits and graphic t-shirts. He’s either rolling up to Disney World in a Metallica t-shirt or a full three piece suit there’s no inbetween. He’s really not concerned about packing-- he can just buy whatever he needs there. After a text from y/n though he throws in a few pairs of shorts that he didn't even know he owned and his M.I.T. hoodie. He tops it off with a few gadgets he thinks he might need-- FRIDAY’s chip and some nanotech-- and he’s good to go. Billionaires don’t need to pack.

→Steve: Clothes and toiletries. Boring, basic, forgets swim trunks until he sees Bucky put his swim trunks and nothing else into Steve’s bag. That’s how he remembers most things actually; by looking at what Bucky doesn’t put into the bag. Along the way he suggests what the super soldier might want to pack while adding a few extra of his own just in case. After thinking about it for a few minutes he adds two books-- one for each of them. He also adds some tools-- a screwdriver and some pliers-- in case Bucky’s arm starts acting up. He’s sure Stark will have something but in case he doesn't, those will hold it over.

→Bucky: Swim trunks. And, when Steve begs, he grumbles and adds a few button downs and henleys. He also sneaks in a few knives, burying them in the henleys. He watches Steve pack for him though and leaves it at that-- what’s the point of packing when the super soldier can just do it for him? He’s not stupid-- he’s tired and Steve is fussy. He’ll have what he needs and if he doesn’t then he’ll just make y/n go swimming with him. Then he won’t need anything. Easy peasy.

→Nat: She’s the most level headed packer of the bunch, spare maybe Bruce and Sam. She Packs what she’ll need-- not too much and not too little. If anything she packs too many of Clint’s hoodies (three). Part of that, though, is her knowing that he’s probably going to forget one. She packs her normal toiletries, making sure to add an extra stick of deodorant and a bottle of Wanda’s red nail polish because-- despite the fact that she spends an hour watching Wanda pack her entire room-- she just knows that the woman forgot a bottle of that stuff and that she’ll be upset if her nails look chipped in the pictures. Wanda and y/n make her pack a bikini despite the fact that she has two scars from Bucky still and they threaten to get Clint involved if she tries to refuse-- “I suggest you put that little black number in that bag right now unless you want some aggressive compliments, you hear me woman?” She didn’t have to be told twice.

→Clint: Not as much as he should. Never as much as he should. He packs boxers, a pair of swim trunks, a few regular shirts and shorts (not enough), a couple nice shirts and a pair of jeans, and his toiletries. He’s gone longer with less but-- like-- he doesn’t have to this time? Nat walks into his room as he finishes packing and takes one look at his bag before marching to his closet and adding a hat, a pair of sunglasses, a jacket, a pair of sweatpants, and socks because who the hell doesn’t pack socks when they’re going to be walking around for days, how the hell are you an accomplished assassin Clint?

→Wanda: She literally packs as much as she can-- think the essentials times three and then some, like five different dresses, two leather jackets (even though y/n reminds her that Orlando is hot), her laptop and her ipad, two pairs of headphones. She has a notebook, a sketch book, and a regular book. Six bikinis and a one-piece. Three hats, four pairs of sunglasses, enough panties to last a month, let alone a week. She packs heels, boots, sneakers, flats, and sandals. Two purses and a backpack. Wanda Maximoff is the epitome of team mom-- anything Nat and y/n forget she’ll have it. She also packs a few things that she thinks Pietro will forget-- a few nice outfits for nights out and his main toiletries. Oh-- and sunscreen! Lots and lots of sunscreen!

→Pietro: Well, let's just say that it’s a good thing Wanda thinks to pack some things for Pietro because this man barely remembers his toothbrush let alone his phone charger. He gets the basics-- the bare necessities-- like three t-shirts, a pair of shorts, some (?) boxers, and like seven pairs of shoes because with how fast this man is he’s going to need them badly. He does, however, remember to pack his bathing suit and that’s more than a few people on the team can remember. Poor baby just wants to get there already-- he can just buy whatever he forgets.

→Vision: A very strange assortment of items. He doesn’t need clothes-- he can make whatever he would like appear on his body-- but he does want to feel included so Wanda gives him one of her backpacks and he puts like kind of random items into it. He sees a phone cord and shoves it in and like a hairbrush-- all items someone will need eventually but not him (later will find out that it’s the cord to Sam’s Iphone and will hand it over and have the audacity to say you’re welcome Samuel after doing it).

→Sam: He packs at least four ball caps. Nothing besides that really matters; he just knows how fucked you are if you don’t bring a hat and he’s bringing enough for the people who forget. As much as Bucky gets on his nerves he also packs him one. Besides that he packs normally-- t-shirts, shorts, shoes, socks, boxers-- all regular amounts. He freaks out a little when he can’t find his phone charger but he’ll just buy one when he gets there. He also brings a Polaroid camera and a shit ton of film-- some of his team members have never been and he will be documenting it all.

→Bruce: He’s the most boring packer and that isn’t a bad thing-- it’s the reason he has so many doctorates-- because he’s smart and level headed. He packs the clothes he needs with one extra of everything. He packs his toiletries. He doesn’t pack his whole room and he doesn’t pack nothing at all. He’s perfectly in the middle-- a Disney Dad™! He does, however, forget his swim trunks-- oops.

→Stephen: One backpack with a t-shirt, sweatpants, and swim trunks. That’s it. Why would he pack anything else? The man can open a portal whenever he needs! He’s always one step away from his bedroom! Stephen simply flicks his wrists and can change and rejoin the group in less time than it takes the rest of them to pull shit from their bags and wait for the washroom to free up. It’s actually a genius play.

→Loki: Despite being the most outwardly unenthusiastic he packs almost the exact same way that Wanda does. He’s a nervous packer. His brother laughs but, like, he has a point. Safe is better than sorry. It’s comical that he packs like five sweaters though considering that he can snap his fingers and make the sweater appear. All his clothes are either green or black. He packs at least one all black suit. Thor has to force him to add a red Hawaiian shirt and he scoffs at it and shoves it to the bottom. Definitely packs three pairs of swim trunks because he doesn’t like putting them one while they’re still wet. He doesn’t even know if he’s going to go swimming but he’s still doing it anyway. He also packs the scrunchie y/n gave him to keep his hair out of the way and when Thor tries to say shit about it he pulls a dagger from thin air and just chucks it. After dodging it Thor asks why don’t you just make your clothes appear the same way?

→Thor: Enough but, like, definitely not enough. The normal things but like less. He figures he’s going to be spending most of his time in his bathing suit anyway. Loki tries to remind him that he can’t go shirtless in the parks (he looked it up already) but he doesn't listen. It really is a good thing his brother can make things appear from thin air. He’s the type of guy to be content in a pair of flip flops and an open button down. He does, however, bring one of those dad-esque fanny packs and somehow he makes it look hot.

→Y/n: Literally packs the same as Wanda, if just a tad less. So many clothes that it’s insane. She, however, has the added bonus of her old Mickey ears-- a pink sequined pair that are a little worse from wear but still pretty. She packs a bucket hat to pin collectable pins to. She makes sure to leave extra room in her suitcase for souvenirs. She’s had her eye on the luxury bath salts from the Grand Floridian ever since the Disney Instagram posted them a few months ago and now that she’s going she won’t be leaving without them. She also packs the strapless dress she’s been meaning to wear for months now-- she doesn’t know who’s going to be there to admire it but she’s sure there’s at least one person who will. Besides, Nat’s been telling her to wear it for ages.

[johnsamericano]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 10:

кιм נυиgωσσ

23 days of NCT masterlist.

taglist: @notbeforelong @silent-potato @whathamelon @unknown5tar @ajhdr @mrcarbonatedmilk @curieouscapt

warnings: unprotected sex (reader’s on the pill), y/n is kinda odd but in a good way, thigh riding (? Sort of.

“Please, Yuta. I need you.” You pleaded, falling onto your knees as you held onto his hand.

“Stop, people are watching.” He pulled you up, slightly vowing to the students staring at the little scene. “I’ve already told you I’m too busy with my own projects.”

“Yuta.” You whined, feeling like you were running out of options.

“I have a couple friends that might be willing to help you, but I can’t promise anything.”

As expected, all of them rejected you. Everyone was too caught up with their own work to care about yours. But one magnificent day, you found your muse. You met him at the cafeteria, he was simply eating pizza, yet he looked like a model.

He pretended not to acknowledge your piercing gaze, but as you started walking to his table he couldn't help but blush, playing anxiously with the pages of his textbook. Why was the goddess of the art department walking towards him?

“Hi, I'm y/n.” You casually sat in front of him, extending your hand towards him as if this wasn't the first time you'd seen him.

“I’m Jungwoo.” He was literally the epitome of cuteness, his pretty cheeks tinted pink and his brown locks casting shadows over his forehead.

“What’s your major?” You rested your chin over your palms, eyeing the book on the table.

“Mechanical engineering.” He surely didn't look like an engineer, but that sort of made him even more attractive.

“That's cool. So listen- wait, before that, can I grab a French fry? I'm starving.” He nodded, his eyebrows knitted together. “Thank you.”

You chewed on the savory fry, moaning at the flavor.

“So, what were you saying?”

“Oh, right!” You cleared your throat. “So for my final project, I have to paint a human portrait, but it turns out, none of my shitty friends wants to help me.” He couldn't help the small laugh escaping his lips. “Unbelievable, right? So I had no other choice but to hunt down the perfect muse by myself. I was about to give up just when I saw you, sitting here all by yourself like some mysterious rom-com guy.”

“Do you want me to be your muse?”

“Well since you're offering, I'd be more than happy to paint you.” He was about to object, but you resumed your nonstop chatting. “Of course, I’d pay for your time, not too much though, my part-time job doesn't pay that well.”

And that's pretty much how he ended up meeting you every Tuesday, sitting for two hours straight while you painted his gorgeous face. The mood was always cheerful with you around, always making small talk and provoking some smiles from him. He got to know you better during the month you spent together. Jungwoo realized you were the most authentic person he'd ever met, maybe that's why everyone on campus was so enamored by you. On the other hand, he was nothing like the shy boy you first met at the cafeteria. He was so bright, his laugh so pretty that it made you want to hear it every day.

“This is our last session.” You announced as soon as your canvas was fixed in place. “Time goes by so quickly, don't you think?”

“Yeah, sure.” You noticed the saddened expression on his face.

“What’s wrong, woo?” He loved the nickname you decided to give him on your first session, it made him feel closer to you.

“It’s just a pity that we won't get to see each other as often anymore.”

“Who says we won't?” You started moving the paintbrush over the canvas, adding the final details to your portrait.

“You still wanna hang out with me?”

“Of course I do! You're finally opening up to me, I won't risk losing the progress we've made.” His heart felt like it’d escape his chest any minute.

“I thought you were just using me for your project.” You gasped, approaching his seating place with the paintbrush still between your fingers.

“How dare you, Kim Jungwoo?” There was a dramatic pause before you painted the tip of his nose.

“You didn't.” You wiggled your eyebrows, running away from him as he stood up. “Get back here!”

“Stop!” You threatened him with your brush, back pressed against the wall. “I won't hesitate to paint you again.”

“Scary.” His chest was touching yours, faces barely centimeters away.

“Where’s the shy Jungwoo I met?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” His knee positioned between your legs, pushing against your core. “What is it with that face?”

“Have you been deceiving me from the beginning?” You tiptoed, trying to hold back the small whine threatening to fall from your lips.

“No.” He raised his knee, this time, the imminent whine managing to get past your mouth. “I really was shy around you, but you're so easy to be with. I feel like I can be myself when I'm with you.”

“By yourself, you mean your horny self?” He started moving his limb back and forth, making sure to apply pressure on the right spot.

“I wasn't planning to do this, I didn't even know you wanted to see me after your project was done.” His finger pads danced over your neck, causing goosebumps over the sensitive skin.

“Well, then, are you gonna kiss me or should I take The first step?” He giggled before attaching his mouth to yours, a variety of new sensations growing at the bottom of your stomach. “God, I wish my project would've been related to nude portraits.”

“I would've definitely called the cops if you had asked me to be your nude model.”

“Mean.” Your face inched closer to his lips once again, slightly biting into his skin.

“Are you alright with this?” He lightened up the pressure on your heat, making sure you were both on the same page.

“Yes. But I don't know about making love in a classroom, though.”

“Making love?”

“I don't like the way ‘fucking’ sounds.” He chuckled. “Would you rather have me calling it sexual intercourse?”

“Stop talking before my dick gets soft.”

He lifted you with ease, sitting on the stool you usually used with you on his lap. His hands rubbed the sides of your thighs affectionately, slowly lifting the fabric of your purple dress to reveal your panties. He wasted no time on moving them to the side, quickly using his digits to make sure you were wet enough.

You helped him undo his jeans, clumsy hands struggling to get the zipper down.

“Allow me.”

“Be gentle, alright?” You placed your hands behind his head, toying with his brown locks as he aligned himself with you. He nodded. “I need verbal confirmation, woo.”

“I promise to be gentle, y/n.” You felt his tip prodding at your small hole, bracing yourself for the imminent pain. “Look at me.”

He started sliding inside you, your fingers accidentally tugging his hair. He didn't complain, though, too immersed in your face to even notice. You glanced at him, noticing how handsome he was from up close. His eyes looked like they carried the stars- no, the whole universe, you'd definitely have to paint them one day.

“Can I move?” You nodded, holding back the smile creeping up your lips as he started thrusting upwards. “Not even in my wildest dreams would I have imagined we'd end up like this.”

“Well, I'm glad you accepted to be my model.” You let out an open-mouthed moan, his dick hitting your G-spot.

“Pill?” You nodded, letting him do all the hard work while you enjoyed yourself. “Pretty.” He kissed your throat, holding your glutes to push himself further into you.

There were no words needed to know you were both incredibly close to release, just a few more thrusts had your pussy pulsating around him, his warm cum coating your walls.

“This is the best love-making session I've ever had.” You let your body fall against his, causing him to lose balance and almost fall down. “Sorry.”

“Well, we can always repeat this. Maybe I can actually be your nude model for your next masterpiece.”

“Who is this guy?” He chuckled, the corner of his eyes picking the image of the recently painted portrait. “Don’t look!”

But he was already admiring the product of your hard work, and it was amazing, to say the least. It was a picture of him smiling, sunlight coming in through the large window panel beside him and directly hitting his face.

“If you don't get an A, I'll write a complaint.”

“I like your way of thinking. I'm getting the feeling that you and I will be a power couple, only if you want that too, of course.”

“Let’s go out for dinner and I'll think about it.”

[alecmagnuslwb]

Photograph - @doubleredweek Day 1

Read on AO3

Jason walks leisurely down the hall of the Queen family cabin; he’s still getting used to being welcome here even if he has a key and an open invitation these days.

He left Roy in the study that’s more like the laboratory of a mad scientist with a specific arrow fetish talking with Oliver at length about some new trick arrow and the detailed schematics of it to seek out Lian.

Last night had been what Jason’s pretty sure has come to be her most anticipated Saturday of every month. Sleepover night with aunt Mia and grandma Dinah, which also means date night for Jason and Roy which usually means a nice dinner and sex in rooms that aren’t as private as their bedroom and occasionally means busting up a criminal front and then having a quickie on a roof.

Somewhere down this long hallway Lian is fast asleep, still conked out from the night before that was no doubt filled with far too many cookies and a bedtime triple past what hers usually is.

He takes his time looking at the many framed photos that line the walls. These aren’t the Queen family portraits or red carpet moments that the general public gets to see, these are Dinah Lance specials. Somewhere along the line on one of her tours with her band she’d picked up a camera and just never stopped clicking.

The in between moments are what she calls them, they’re her favorite kind to capture. The pure, unfiltered moments of the people she loves most. Lian occupies most of the wall these days, a grandchild edging out just about everyone else on the photo priority scale.

There are ones of her as a baby and one’s all the way up to as recent as last week’s bi-monthly Oliver Queen chili cookout. Jason smiles at the photo then grimaces at the memory of washing all that chili out of her hair.

A few other new ones have been peppered in from last week, Connor and Kyle in a rare moment where Kyle isn’t three galaxies away, Mia holding a bowl of chili the size of her head. He’s nearing the end of the hall close to the family room the girls use as their base camp for sleepovers when he stops dead in his tracks.

Because on the wall between a selfie of Dinah and Ollie on some beach and picture of Emiko casually flipping off her brother on Christmas morning is Jason and Roy pressed close together on a park bench, Roy’s arm slung across Jason’s shoulders light smiles on both of their faces laughing about some dumb joke Roy had made. He remembers the day, a not too hot, but not too cold spring afternoon they both had free so they took Lian to the park. Dinah had run into them on her way home and she had been immediately dragged over to the swings by Lian. Jason hadn’t even realized she had her camera on her at all.

It’s a rare photo of them, they haven’t exactly been at this very long. Jason only moved in three months ago after nearly two years of subtle dating. Dating as superheroes is hard enough, add in that one half of them is often wanted by any number of federal agencies at any given moment and the other half is raising a four-year-old daughter on his own and it gets even more complicated. So they’ve taken their time, keeping things quiet for as long as they could even though it killed Roy not to shout it from the rooftops. The nature of keeping it slow and quiet meant photos hadn’t been a priority.

Add in that Jason habitually shies from cameras constantly and it’s likely this is maybe only the second or third photo of them out of costume and not tacked up on wanted board somewhere that’s ever been taken. It’s definitely the first one that’s made it onto the Queen family wall.

He feels weirdly honored. He knows they’ve accepted him, Ollie somewhat reluctantly and the others nearly without hesitation, but he didn’t think he was considered family, family. Not the kind that made it onto the coveted family walls, more like the kind that came to events and treated their family member with love and respect so he was welcome, but never quite fully in. Jason was content with that, as long as he and Oliver could have civil conversations and he got to keep loving Roy and Lian without any interference he was perfectly happy.

This though. This is beyond that. This he never expected.

“Hey, you’re here!” Dinah says pulling his eyes away from the photo. She makes her way down the hall towards him, looking far more put together than any woman who hosted a sleepover with a four-year-old the night before should at 8:30 in the morning.

She pulls him in for a quick hug and then leans against the wall beside the photo.

“You like it?” she asks with a smile. He nods still kind of shocked it’s even there in the first place. “You’re a hard one to get pictures of,” she says with a chuckle.

She taps lightly at the glass frame. “I never quite manage to get your face in one, it’s like no matter how stealthy I am you know I’ve got that camera pointed your way. Creature of bat habit, I guess, huh?”

Jason shrugs, “Something like that yeah.”

“When I was going through my camera roll and spotted that one, I quite literally shouted with joy, Ollie thought I was watching a Blades game,” she laughs with a fond shake of her head. “You were the only member of the family not on the wall, even Jade has one with Lian and she never comes to the chili cookouts.”

Jason’s heart skips at beat at the word family a no doubt shocked look on his face that Dinah, always perceptive Dinah catches onto immediately.

“Oh, Jason,” she says reaching out a hand to comfortingly rest on his arm. “That’s another bat habit. Of course you’re family.”

Jason’s not one for crying and he’s definitely not one for vulnerability in front of anyone that isn’t Roy, but for a moment he feels like he might just break those rules of his in front of Dinah. He shakes it off quickly putting his hand on top of Dinah’s for one quick squeeze.

“It’s a good picture,” he says. “You should print a copy for us, Roy’s always complaining that the best photos he has of me are crime scene pictures.”

Dinah laughs and the emotional tension Jason hadn’t quite intended for dissipates just as he hoped it would.

“I’ll get it done and give it to you guys at dinner next week,” she says as she walks around him and gestures to the door at the far end of the hall. “Let’s go get the princess so you can take her home.”

Jason nods looking back at the photo one last time a small smile on his lips before he follows after Dinah to get Lian, before he follows his family.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Tales of the Bulbury Valentine

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x female reader

Genre: romance / fantasy / time-travel au

Warnings: mentioning of spirits / a sex scene but no details / the concept is a little like Narnia for the time-travelling, I guess?

Word count: 7270

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day! This story was entirely impromptu. I had a dream yesterday with Jinyoung and it was so intense that I spent all day writing it out. I hope you all enjoy it.

Chuckling softly when you looked up at the place your feet had carried you to, you walked up the short set of stairs to the front door and went inside.

You hadn’t meant to come here, of all places, but it wouldn’t be your first time studying within these walls. Still, you had a lot to do, and there was no time to head off elsewhere.

You had to admit, you felt at home here.

“Well, hello again!” the clerk behind the counter exclaimed happily, and you beamed a smile at her.

“You look fetching, as always, Polly.”

Glancing down at her flapper-styled dress, Polly then shrugged. “I’ve worn better and worse here. Are you coming to the party later?”

“Party?” you echoed, glancing up at the board of events behind her. You laughed and shook your head. “Oh, I don’t have a need to celebrate Valentine’s Day.”

“You don’t have to have a need, Y/N. But I see your bag is full. The study halls on campus too crowded today?”

“I guess now I know what all the noise was about,” you admitted sheepishly, and pointed to the closest hallway of the manor house. “Is the library free from the party?”

“What soiree would we hold in there?” she teased, and you rolled your eyes, thinking of countless wonderful opportunities that could be hosted within there.

The library was your favourite place within the estate house, after all.

“I’ll see you later, Polly. The Medieval era awaits me.”

“Not within this place, it wasn’t built until the fifteenth century!”

You laughed as you waved the woman off, greeting a few of the other paid actors as you walked down the familiar hallway to the room at the far left. You could hear all the fuss happening in the grand salon as you passed on by, a pink balloon escaping the room in the process.

You giggled. “When were balloons created?”

“The first attempt was in eighteen twenty-four, so they’re rightfully placed today,” a voice answered, and you turned, grinning at the woman in a lavish bell-shaped dress that seemed to take up more than half the walking space in this corridor.

“You know everything, Marguerite.”

“Not everything. But I do seem to know an awful lot,” she confessed, giggling with you as you both entered the library.

Glancing at your casual attire, she frowned. “You’re not dressed up.”

“I’m not a paid actor here at the estate,” you responded with a small smirk, propping your book bag next to the desk. You placed your hands upon the dark wooden desktop and sighed happily. “I came here for this desk, not for any party.”

“You and this desk,” she griped, shaking her head so much that the ornate wig she had chosen to wear almost toppled off the pins she had used to secure it. Holding her hair, she then smiled at you. “We welcome you every time.”

“I’m grateful, truly.”

“What are we studying today? The French Revolution?”

“Medieval Crusaders,” you corrected, and she scrunched up her nose. “Hey! History comes in many forms, Marguerite.”

“Perhaps you can be a mastermind behind a medieval love story for a play held in the theatre room later this year.”

You laughed and shook your head. “I’m a trained historian, not a writer.”

“Then you can co-direct with your facts and I with my interest in scriptwriting.”

“Perhaps, I could.”

“We’re expecting a lot of visitors today. I put an advert in the paper,” she mentioned as you sat down at the desk and pulled out your belongings. You smiled up at the owner of the estate and nodded as she continued to talk to you about the vast Valentine’s Day plans.

You supposed a place like this needed to get in on all the holidays to bring in patrons outside of the usual curious folk.

It was because of Halloween two years prior that you had stepped into the Bulbury Estate, to begin with. It wasn’t like all museums. Sure, each room was dedicated to some era of history, ranging from the fifteenth century to the nineteen-fifties. However, it was a living environment, and hardly a single mannequin was used. Instead, Marguerite had a small team of historical actors who helped her bring the past to life every day here during the tours.

You found the library on that first night here, the party being held in the grand salon nearby. You had gotten over the noise and opted for someplace quiet. The library door had opened right when you went to enter, and you had shrieked, especially when the man before you looked as if he came from the past himself.

“Y/N?”

Blinking out of your fond memories of the place, you looked up at Marguerite curiously. “Do mind the spirits for me in here as best as you can.”

“Oh, but of course. They are welcome to stay and keep me company as long as they’re quiet.”

Marguerite was naturally quirky. However, her biggest obsession, aside from wearing the most flamboyant of vintage outfits, was the spirits. You hadn’t actually met one yet, but you humoured the woman every time. She was invested in these spirits to the point she talked of them on a first-name basis quite often. They had guided her to buy the run-down estate ten years ago, so she said, and with a stroke of luck, she struck gold – literally – in the backyard and was able to pay for the repairs to be done quite quickly. Since then, she was adamant they ruled the house, and she merely managed it on their behalf.

“I worry about Thomas and Bertha causing trouble today. It is their favourite holiday of the year.”

“Then I hope they can enjoy some quiet time in here with me,” you offered with a grin, gesturing to the vintage armchairs in the room.

“I shall tell them so,” Marguerite announced with a clap of her hands and then a gasp left her. “Oh, dear! I left Joseph unattended in the salon. Who knows what that child has done to the decorations already!”

You didn’t know if Joseph was a spirit or living person, but you ushered the suddenly frazzled woman off and then sat down at the desk. Pulling out a thick textbook about the crusades, you picked up your pen and began to scribble down notes as you read. Aside from the murmur of noise that reached the library from the festivities of the day, you were alone for some time.

Until the door suddenly opened.

Glancing up immediately, you couldn’t control the smile that formed on your lips.

Nor could Jinyoung. “You know, we really need to stop meeting in this room.”

“Granted, it’s the one you’ll most likely find me in every time. But I happen to agree.”

Closing the door behind him, Jinyoung came to your side and peered over your shoulder at your studies. He placed a hand upon the table to balance himself, and you began to inspect the muscles in his exposed forearm until he cleared his throat.

“Your essay topic sounds interesting.”

“I’m enjoying it.”

Jinyoung laughed. “I think you’re the only person I’ve ever met to say they enjoy their essays.”

“Then why study in the first place if you don’t enjoy it?” you wondered and Jinyoung pointed at you.

“You’re not like the rest.”

“I don’t intend to be.”

Sharing another smile, you then turned your focus back to the books jarringly. “I suppose I better…”

“Yes, and if Marguerite finds me not in the Victorian kitchen talking to guests in ten minutes, I guess she’ll fire me.”

“Your Aunt isn’t that cruel,” you told him, and Jinyoung shrugged playfully.

“Maybe if I play hooky with you, her favourite visitor, she won’t mind.”

“I’m hardly her favourite. I’m certain that’s Bertha and Thomas.”

Jinyoung shook his head. “Not you too. The spirits aren’t real. She uses that as a tactic to look kooky to her patrons. It keeps people coming back for more of her stories.”

“You and I both know they’re real,” you countered, gesturing to the portrait of the married couple on the walls. “You’re insulting them by dismissing their existence.”

Jinyoung walked back to your side and leaned down towards you. “Have you seen one of them yet?”

“No, but-”

“Have you experienced anything spooky here at the estate?”

“The door suddenly flying open on the first night I was here.”

Jinyoung stood back up and folded his arms over his chest. “You opened it, stop denying it.”

“I did not! You did!”

“We can argue about this all day but--”

The static sound of the walkie-talkie device in Jinyoung’s pocket interrupted the heated debate and he groaned, pulling it out and spoke into it. “Yeah, I’m on my way.”

“Duty calls. Who are you playing today?”

“Henry, the servant boy who wants to learn how to cook,” he announced, flicking his suspenders lightly over the linen shirt under it. “And a servant I shall be since Emma is playing Lady Crocrombe. See you around, Y/N.”

You were slightly disappointed to see the back of Jinyoung. From the first night on Halloween until now, he was part of the reason you liked coming here. It was unintentional that you arrived on the estate’s doorstep this morning, but you couldn’t deny your hope once you walked through the front doors that Jinyoung would also be working today.

Your feelings for him made you feel warm and giddy.

However, he didn’t get far. Yanking on the door handle several times, he glanced back at you hopelessly. Getting up, you approached him and the stuck door. “It can’t be locked, can it?”

“Nonsense, who would lock a door here?”

“Move aside, let me.”

“Not to sound egotistical, but if I can’t open it, how will you?” he grunted, and you shoved him aside then, placing your hands on the handle and gave it a firm yank.

It didn’t budge.

“We’re locked in. Call for assistance,” you instructed logically, and Jinyoung nodded, fishing out his walkie-talkie. It didn’t seem to connect to anything, the static sounding different this time. You reached into your pocket for your phone, but suddenly there was no signal.

You both stared at one another, perplexed.

Then the phone began to ring. Not the one in your hand, but the old vintage one sat upon the desk. You slowly turned your head to look at it and followed Jinyoung’s cautious steps across the room to it. “I thought that was a prop.”

“It is. What would it be connected to?” Jinyoung murmured, staring at the phone handle before he inhaled a deep breath and answered it. “Hello?”

You couldn’t hear who was on the receiving end. However, Jinyoung visibly relaxed and started to explain what was going on. After a moment, you realised it was Marguerite talking to him, and cast your eyes across the room whilst you waited for the instruction of what to do next.

You had visited this room more than fifty times, and whilst you were certain you couldn’t remember every book title on the bookshelves that lined the walls, you had looked at them often enough to be familiar with the shapes and colours in the very least. One seemed to stand out to you all of a sudden, and you walked over to the black spine, tilting your head to the side to read the gilded title along it.

You heard Jinyoung hang up the phone, and blindly gestured for him to join you. “Have you seen this book here before?”

“Book?” he repeated, coming over. “Which book?”

“This black one. Tales of The Bulbury Valentine.”

“Never heard of it,” he said, peering over your shoulder again. You were surprised by how close he was to you, and your heart fluttering felt nice. You were slightly dejected when he shifted to your side. “Marguerite mentioned she’s tied up with an influx of visitors so she’ll let us out when she can.”

“Right. Well, that sounds fair.”

“I didn’t know that phone worked. Bizarre, don’t you think?” he continued, and you nodded, your fingers reaching to touch the spine of the book.

“Completely.”

“You’re not fully aware of what I’m saying, are you, Y/N? Just pull the book out if it’s got your attention.”

“I’m not one for Valentine’s Day stories, Jinyoung.”

“Why? Hasn’t Cupid ever shot an arrow your way?” he teased, and you groaned loudly, letting go of the book.

“I’m sure he’s shot many at you. Or at all the women around you.”

“Why do you say that?” he questioned, wriggling his eyebrows and smirking when you didn’t answer right away. He stepped in closer again, and you were certain he knew that he made your heart play up whenever he was near you. “Maybe he should have shot you then too.”

“Don’t be daft. Cupid is a folklore at the best of things.”

“Says the historian. Surely, you should know something about Valentine’s Day.”

“Lupercalia.”

“What?” Jinyoung asked, blinking frequently.

“They say it was the Lupercalia ritual in Roman times that started the ancient version of Valentine’s Day.”

“Huh.”

“Lupercalia was a fertility pagan festival to bring in the start of spring and growth. Saint Valentine has been written in the bible and has several ancient merits as well.” Looking at Jinyoung’s bemused expression, you sighed. “So, I know a little about the tradition. It comes with studying mythology in my first year.”

“So, what happens?”

“What do you mean?”

Jinyoung folded his arms across his chest again. “To Valentine’s Day. When did it become a gimmick?”

“I wouldn’t call it a gimmick, Jinyoung.”

“You just said you don’t do Valentine’s Day stories. Do you still believe in the romance of it all?”

“I don’t know what I believe in, but I do know that the history of it becoming what it has is pretty interesting.”

“So pull out the book. You like history, shouldn’t we learn more together?”

“I’m supposed to be working on my essay,” you mentioned, looking over at your discarded study and then back at the book. You grinned at Jinyoung. “I suppose a short look won’t hurt us.”

Reaching again for the spine of the book, you pulled it out from the shelf and opened the cover.

There was only one thing inside. “A key?”

“It’s not a book?” Jinyoung questioned, lording over you to stare at the puzzle before you. Sharing a look, Jinyoung then reached for the key and pulled it out from the book. “Where do you go?”

Looking at the gap in the shelf, you noticed you could see light shining through. “There! The lock is in the bookshelf.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Jinyoung breathed, sharing another glance with you before slipping in the key. You heard the lock click and a section of the bookcase swung into a secret room.

You both peered inside, trying to decipher if it was safe to step in. “Does Marguerite know of this secret room?”

“Probably. Maybe not. My Aunt is hard to keep up with.”

“We shouldn’t go inside it then.”

“Logically, no. But aren’t you curious, even just a little?” Jinyoung asked, and you nodded swiftly, taking his hand that he held out to you without any further thought.

You were surprised by how warm he was.

“Let’s leave the door open so we can come back, okay?” you suggested, following Jinyoung into the dusty room.

“Or this could be a horror film in the making, and it creakily shuts behind us,” he mentioned, and you squealed when as soon as you were both inside, it did just that.

Gripping onto Jinyoung tightly, you then thumped him with your spare hand. “Now, what do we do?!”

“You begin to fall together,” a hushed little voice mentioned in the dark, and before you could shriek at the statement, you began to descend at a fast pace through, well, you couldn’t really tell.

Was it time? Realms? You weren’t able to decipher anything apart from it felt as if your falling was endless and Jinyoung’s hand was growing harder to grip onto.

You could barely see him now, but the way he tried to grapple onto your hand made you realise he didn’t want to lose you either.

Eventually, you did, and as soon as you could no longer see him, you fell with a thud onto something soft.

Springy.

Bedding?

Opening your eyes, you then blinked several times. It was day time again, and you thanked the light for greeting your eyes as they strained to take in your surroundings. You were certain this was still the manor house, but not of the present time. Sitting up in the bed, you realised you were up in a bedroom in the west wing.

“It still looks the same,” you breathed, noticing how well Marguerite had done with restoring it. It was as if she had been to the past herself and knew exactly where to place each bit of furniture.

“That makes zero sense,” you chided yourself, though after blinking some more, nor did the notion in your head about this being the past.

“Marguerite!” you called out, and jumped when the door opened, Jinyoung’s aunt dashing into the room.

“Yes, My Lady?”

“Lady—what do you mean?” you asked her and took in her outfit. It was the plainest thing you’d ever seen her wear before. You started to laugh. “You, a servant?!”

“Did you fall ill overnight? Shall I fetch a doctor?! Oh, the Mistress won’t be happy to hear of this at all! I was told to check for any and all chills before your wedding day, and I was certain I caught them all!”

“Mistress? Wedding day? Marguerite, you are talking nonsense. And you look entirely plain.”

You stopped for a moment, frowning at how your accent and word choice sounded different. Older, in fact.

You really needed to stop reading so many regency au stories.

“This is always how I look, My Lady.”

“No, you wear the most flamboyant of outfits. Lace upon textured fabrics and lush petticoats!”

Marguerite started to bounce on the spot, growing increasingly frazzled. “Oh my! You have caught a chill!”

And before you could answer, she dashed out the door and shut it behind her.

“What on earth just happened?” you asked yourself, pulling back the blankets and walking barefoot across the wooden floors to the mirror by the wall.

As you caught glimpse of yourself, you were relieved to find your appearance was still the same. You weren’t anyone else and wondered if you had fallen in the secret room and hit your head and were now concussed.

Pinching yourself, you whined when it hurt to do so.

“I’m not dreaming.”

Pacing across the floor in your nightgown, you raised a hand to your mouth in thought. “Marguerite is acting weird and called me by a lady of status. But she’s the one who owns this place, so why is she dressed as a lady’s maid?”

“Where is Jinyoung?” you asked next, and jumped when the door opened.

You were met with familiar eyes that rounded upon seeing you and then diverted to the walls at the somewhat sheerness of your clothing.

“My Lady, you shouldn’t be out of bed if the chill has caught you! Doctor Park, please forgive her lack of modesty.”

“Uh, er, right,” Jinyoung managed, peeking another look in your direction. You gave him a pointed look back, and his eyes went straight to the ceiling again.

“I’m perfectly fine, Marguerite. It is you who is acting peculiar.”

“Back to bed, My Lady, so the physician can check if your health is quite alright. Your marriage to Lord Maynes is this afternoon, and we must ensure we are sending him a healthy daughter of the manor.”

“I suppose my sister Caroline could step in if I’m not able to,” you offered and then frowned at the name.

Who was Caroline?

“I’ll check Miss Y/N over now if you don’t mind,” Jinyoung gruffly stated as soon as you were back under the blankets. Staring at you momentarily, Jinyoung smiled weakly before directing his next instructions to Marguerite. “I’ll need some water.”

“Of course,” she said, going over to the basin in your bedroom.

“Not that water!” he cried, and Marguerite’s hands shook with surprise. “I uh, will need it fresh from the well.”

“Is that truly necessary?”

“Yes. If a wedding is to go ahead, then it must be at its freshest.”

Marguerite nodded resolutely and dashed out of the room, leaving you both alone. You stared at Jinyoung, hoping he had some answers. He merely shrugged. “When I woke up, I was in a small house, and Polly called me her brother.”

“Polly’s here too? Do you think this is all staged then?”

Jinyoung stared at you. “I said, I woke up in a small house. Not here.”

“So you saw the outside world. Is it modern or-”

“Are you really asking me when we look like this, and you’re dressed in something my great grandmother would wear?”

“It’s rather comfy,” you admitted, and Jinyoung couldn’t contain his chuckle.

“I wasn’t quite expecting to see you in so little just yet.”

“Yet?” you echoed, but he gave you no answer, fishing in his leather bag and looking at all the instruments he pulled out. You shook your head. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“I know that, but given how strange you normally are, and no doubt how you acted upon seeing my Aunt, they’re all convinced you’ve caught something terrible, and the wedding won’t go ahead. From what I’ve gathered, you’re to marry some Lord who will help with the prosperity of the village.”

“Thomas?” you offered and then shook your head. “No Thomas was a…”

“A what, Y/N?” Jinyoung prompted when you trailed off.

Paled, you didn’t blink as you stared at Jinyoung. “A doctor.”

“Bertha was the second eldest daughter of this house. Caroline was barely fifteen when her sister was meant to be married off,” Jinyoung added on, and you stared at him with interest. He coughed awkwardly. “So maybe I’ve been around when my Aunt talks her nonsense a few times.”

“I’m Bertha, and you’re Thomas?”

“And this is a nightmare. What do we do to escape it?”

“Well, what did they do?” you enquired, finding no answer immediately.

Jinyoung got up and went to the window. “Marguerite is finally at the well now.”

“Can’t you say I’m terribly ill?”

“That would ruin the family.”

“Bertha did that by leaving Lord Maynes for Thomas, no doubt,” you airily offered, and Jinyoung spun around, nodding as he returned to your side.

“She married Thomas.”

“Yes, I know of that,” you snapped, the light bulb that had gone off in Jinyoung’s head finally lighting up in yours. “She didn’t marry today.”

“Nor will you. Get dressed now!”

With some effort, you managed to get into a simple empire styled dress, donning a light coat Jinyoung found for you in the wardrobe before taking his hand. Hastily putting on shoes without anything under them, you allowed Jinyoung to take your hand again.

He began to pull you towards the door he came through, but you stopped, looking at the panel in the wall of your room. “This way.”

“There’s no other exit.”

“I’m Bertha right now. This is my room, and I trust my instinct,” you announced, tugging him over to the panel and pushing on it. A tiny corridor appeared, and Jinyoung gave you little time to admire it, shoving you inside and shutting the panel behind him.

You let out a triumphant giggle on being right.

It was arduous in places to navigate, but the secret hallway led to a set of stairs that wound around the house until you spotted a trapdoor. Unlatching it, you then crawled outside, brushing the dirt off your skirt as you waited for Jinyoung to climb out.

He grinned at you. “We’re so looking for this when we’re back.”

“For now, we need to get away so let’s worry about trapdoors and hidden staircases when we’re not escaping, shall we?”

“You’re sassier than I expected.”

You looked at the man who reached for your hand effortlessly and started to run with him across the back of the garden towards the woods. “You hardly know me.”

“That’s not true. I know some about you.”

“That I am history mad and would rather come to your Aunt’s manor museum than spend time in modern places? That’s probably all.”

“You have the most interesting colour of eye too,” he confessed, and you stared at his side profile then, watching his ears turn pink from the admission.

“I’m not sure what made me swoon more then. The fact that you noticed something about me or the way you worded it.”

Jinyoung recovered, thanks to your sentence, and grinned at you. “The fact you swooned is enough for me.”

“Alright, Doctor, it’s on you now. Where did Thomas take Bertha?”

Staring at the small cabin deep in the woods, you were stunned. Jinyoung, equally amazed by the discovery, let out a small whoop of excitement. “It actually is here!”

“You saw it in your head?”

“Vaguely. He directed us here.” Jinyoung opened the door and let you inside. You sat down with a whine, looking down at your ankles that had been rubbed raw from your travels without any socks on.

Jinyoung cleared his throat as he crouched down in front of you, removing one of your shoes before looking up at you. “Do you reckon they were the ones who guided us to this strange world?”

“Maybe they were annoyed with you for not believing they exist.”

“You pointed out that I knew they did.”

“But as spirits,” you corrected, and Jinyoung sighed. You hissed when he pulled off your other shoe, your heel worse on this side.

“It’s a good thing I’m a doctor.”

Unable to hide your amusement, you laughed gently until Jinyoung began to treat the wounds. He did an excellent job with the tools he had, and you wondered if he was just that capable or if Thomas had guided him with this as well.

Jinyoung grinned up at you once he was done. “Better?”

“Much. Thank you.”

There was comfortable silence as you both took in the cabin. There were the basic amenities. A cooking area was nestled next to the open fireplace, and there were two armchairs, one that you were seated upon, facing it.

A small dining table with two chairs and a modest bed filled the rest of the space.

It would do.

However, you would need to work hard for it too.

“There’s little food stored here,” you mentioned once back on your feet and exploring the place.

Jinyoung had just come back inside. “There’s an outside toilet, though it’s not great. But what’s worse is there’s no real firewood. It bet it gets cold around here, so we better gather some wood.”

“How do we go about getting food?” you wondered, and Jinyoung gave you a grim look. You nodded. “Well, I guess we have a lot of adjusting to do.”

By nightfall, you were both exhausted. You had helped drag bits of a fallen tree from the forest surrounding you for Jinyoung to chop up and stacked it inside and by the wall of the cabin for subsequent days.

By luck, you found a chicken coop out back and even better was Jinyoung’s cooking skills as he boiled the bird over the fireplace for dinner. You had managed to uproot some vegetables from a tiny garden and dinner was enough to fill your stomachs.

After some time spent quietly around the fireplace, one too many yawns had sent you both over to the bed.

Jinyoung shook his head. “We’re doing this out of necessity.”

“Neither of us will get any sleep on an armchair.”

“Absolutely not.”

“And we’re adults. Sharing a bed will be fine.”

“It’s a small bed, but we’ll make do,” Jinyoung concluded nervously, and you nodded equally as awkward, before both climbing under the blankets and laying beside one another.

You were stiff for several minutes, staring up at the ceiling. Chancing a glance at Jinyoung, you were surprised to find him watching you. It didn’t make you flinch, rather you smiled. “Do you think Thomas and Bertha loved each other before today?”

“No,” Jinyoung stated, rolling onto his side, so he was fully facing you. You mirrored his actions and propped your head up with your elbow. “I think he was just a friend.”

“Maybe they liked each other a little. I mean, he risked a lot by taking her away from the house on her wedding day.”

“She wanted to escape, what should he have done? Told her no? Left her to an ill-fated match? I can understand why he helped her escape. No one should marry another without love involved.”

You smiled lazily. “You’re quite the romantic, Doctor Park.”

“Please, just call me Jinyoung, My Lady.”

You giggled. “I’m hardly a lady of status.”

“I don’t know, you suit the role,” he said, and you watched him for a moment more.

“Maybe that’s why I come to the manor.”

“Because you’re Bertha in the present day?”

“Do you have a PhD in anything?” you asked tauntingly, and Jinyoung laughed, shaking his head. “We’re just two normal people, really. So were they.”

“Who fell in love,” Jinyoung breathed out, staring at you intensely.

With the humour now gone, you felt your breathing change, growing restricted with all the flutters in your chest. Jinyoung seemed to wrestle with a similar reaction and then cleared his throat loudly, swapping to laying on his back again.

The moment now lost, you awkwardly wished each other a good night’s rest and eventually drifted off to sleep.

You had hoped when you woke up that it would be in the library of the manor where you had last been. However, finding yourself nestled into Jinyoung’s warm side wasn’t all that bad. If you had to be stuck in the 1800s, you couldn’t hope for a better person to be with.

Jinyoung stirred awake shortly after you, and after marvelling his bed hair and him pointing out your own, you both got to work.

Day in and out was much the same. You cultivated what you had, you cleaned and collected wood together, and you even got used to fending off the earth for food to cook each night. He would improve your home little by little, and you became skilled in sewing new coverings or mending clothes along the way.

It brought you both closer to one another, and for a while there, you almost forgot the tally of days Jinyoung had been counting of your stay. It felt comfortable being with him each day and night.

However, when Jinyoung pulled you over to where he had been marking down your stay, you gasped. “It’s been a hundred days already?!”

“Do you think Bertha and Thomas trapped us in this world so they can live as us in the present?” Jinyoung mentioned bitterly, and you shrugged, slumping down into an armchair in shock. He approached you soon after and crouched at your side. “Not to say I’m not enjoying your company. I am. I do. But I kind of would like to go home. I’ll praise my microwave and ready-to-eat foods so much once I’m back.”

“And a flushing toilet,” you offered with a laugh. “Oh, and a shower. Gosh, I miss a good shower.”

“Is the lake nearby not doing it for you, huh?” he asked mischievously, and you pushed his arm off the side of the chair playfully.

“It’s sufficient.”

“You don’t take your undergarments off.”

“I’m washing them too as I wash myself,” you objected, your cheeks flushing with the thought of how easily Jinyoung took his shirt and pants off whenever you went to the lake. You didn’t watch him do it, of course, but you had seen his shoulders and chest, and that was enough to fulfil any desires you had for the man until the next lake visit.

Jinyoung chuckled. “You’re thinking sinfully right now.”

“You are too.”

He shrugged. “You don’t give me much to think like that over.”

“A lady shouldn’t bare herself unless it’s to her husband in these parts,” you stated dramatically, and Jinyoung didn’t laugh as you expected him to. Losing yourself in his gaze as he had already done with you, you instinctively moistened your lips.

You both had been dancing around the unspoken feelings for one another for quite some time now. Naturally, the more you bonded, the more you fell for Jinyoung. He was playful yet incredibly capable. He was there to help you when it was too much and had shouldered your tears whenever you had fits for home.

Even without this experience, you had crushed over him, but now it was beyond a crush.

You had fallen in love with him.

“Was this how it happened for them too?” Jinyoung whispered, and you knew what he meant right away.

“Perhaps,” you said back, your hand reaching out to hold his.

It had been your favourite thing to do all this time. No matter the time of day or night, reaching out to hold his hand made you feel connected, grounded even. Right now though, his touch held a charge that had built to a point that started to buzz throughout you.

It was then that Jinyoung captured your lips in his. The buzz turned into a rush, and you pulled him up to you from the ground, your lips not parting as he, in turn, tugged you from the chair. Now standing, your arms moved to stabilise your balance by hooking together around his neck, your body flush with his.

This kiss was yours alone.

Although you knew you were being guided by the past lovers, this moment was spurred on by your own feelings that had grown. You could taste the hunger, the passion upon his lips and feel it upon your skin as his hands took purchase of your hips, moving downward until he reached your thighs. Hoisting you up, you curled around Jinyoung, pulling back for another breath only to crash down upon his hot mouth once more, kissing him eagerly as he carried you both over to the bed.

Laying you down, he placed a knee between your legs and finally pulled back, his dark gaze washing over you lustfully. “What are we doing?”

“You know exactly what we’re doing, Jinyoung. Something long overdue between us.”

He groaned before leaning down to capture your mouth against his again, hands exploring, trying to undo one another’s clothing. It was easy enough to get his shirt and suspenders off, but your dress slowed Jinyoung down, and he grew impatient with it being in the way.

Sitting up and pushing him back, so you were now resting upon his thigh, you reached for the ties of your dress and loosened them off. Holding up your arms, Jinyoung swore under his breath, his palms pushing the fabric up and over your head.

Just your undergarments remained.

“A lady shouldn’t bare herself,” he reminded of your statement previously, and you smiled, still holding your arms above your head for him to take it off. “Not unless it’s to her husband.”

“Will you marry me then just to take it off?” you asked, and Jinyoung cursed once more at your direct approach. “I’m certain Bertha and Thomas weren’t married whilst they lived in these woods.”

“Are we playing them still right now?” Jinyoung asked, and you shook your head.

“In our lifetime, being intimate can happen regardless of being married or not.”

“In our lifetime, we also have protection,” he pointed out, the flames within his eyes dampening with the further logic he placed over the situation.

You didn’t want this to end here. You only wanted one thing, and that was to feel the culmination of your feelings for him, emotionally and physically. Kissing him with demand, Jinyoung’s resolve broke, his hands taking to the bottom of the fabric and only pulled away to get it over your head. Taking off his pants, he stopped and stared at you.

You finally were as bare as he was.

“I’m in love with you,” he confessed, and you nodded, resting your forehead against yours.

“I know. I am with you too.”

“I know,” he replied with a shared smile, capturing your lips and heart once more.

Two years or so had gone by since you found yourself in this strange world. You had stopped counting how long exactly it had been in this little oasis you shared with Jinyoung. You enjoyed the simple life at his side and the ecstasy that came with loving him during the nights. Somehow, you hadn’t fallen pregnant yet, and even though you had both taken vows last summer in a tiny church in another village, your marital life was childless.

You had to admit you were starting to feel as if your womb would forever remain barren.

Finding your menstrual cycle had arrived like clockwork once again disappointed you, and you wondered why.

“Perhaps it’s the environment,” Jinyoung mentioned, and you shook your head.

“I’m not going back to the township. Out here we can be whoever we want to be.”

“We can be that there as well. We’re married now. They can’t break what we vowed under the eyes of God apart.”

You remained against the idea until one morning someone from your household finally travelled this far into the woods to find you. Marguerite was relieved to see you alive and well, begging for you to return to the house. “They will forgive you of your betrayal, My Lady.”

“What of Caroline?”

Marguerite sighed. “She married the Lord in your stead. She’s rather happy now. She is with child again already.”

You swallowed difficultly, nodding once. “Again. Her second?”

“Third. She bore twins for the Lord.”

Jinyoung reached for your shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “And of Y/N’s parents?”

“They have entrusted the estate to you.”

“Not Caroline? Nor Abigail?”

Marguerite smiled. “It’s time to come home. Your father has fallen ill, and he wishes to see you before he leaves this earth.”

Leaving the cabin was painful. Your lives had been set up there, and yet, you were curious to see the manor again. As Marguerite had assured, your family welcomed you home with open arms, grateful to see you alive and well. Jinyoung was accepted as your husband and took over some of the affairs when your father in this world passed away. Your mother soon too joined him, and it was now your estate with Jinyoung.

But it didn’t quite feel like home.

“My Lady?”

Opening your eyes, you smiled weakly at Marguerite’s appearance. “I’m tired today.”

“You’ve rested enough now, don’t you think?”

“No, I feel I need more sleep.”

“Jinyoung is already on his way back.”

“Back where?” you asked groggily, and when you received no answer, you sat up immediately, noticing the room was now empty.

Getting out of bed, you found the floor beneath you gave way, and the same falling feeling you had experienced four years ago started again.

When you woke up this time, you were nestled in the library next to Jinyoung, your head upon his shoulder.

“Quite the adventure you two took today, huh?” a voice mentioned, picking up the book you held loosely and looked it over.

Blearily looking around yourself, you sat up, staring at Jinyoung when he reached out for your hand. Helping you to your feet, he then let you go. “I suppose Emma needs me in the kitchen.”

Once hastily excused, you stared at his Aunt for some time. Her expression felt knowing about the journey you just took. “It’s the same day?”

“What year did you think of it to be?”

“I just… that dream felt longer than a day. More like years.”

“I’m sure it was,” she answered with a smile, the glint in her eyes confirming your suspicions. “Thank you for looking after the spirits today. They always seem to be on the lookout to play matchmaker. It would have been a disaster if I let them loose on just anyone.”

You didn’t know what to say back, a small smile gracing your lips before you pointed to your things. “I uh, I better clean up.”

“Will you stay for the party, Y/N?”

“I’m rather tired,” you excused, and Marguerite laughed, nodding along.

“Yes, I suppose it was a long journey back too.”

She left you then, and you stared up at the portrait of the couple in the room, wondering just how long they had been watching over you.

And Jinyoung for that matter.

Not really knowing how to comprehend all that had happened, you gathered your books and belongings back into your bag and shouldered it.

It felt odd to be doing tasks you hadn’t done for four years.

Or a day. You couldn’t quite understand time right now.

Still, you took your time, going into the bathroom and rejoiced over hot water when you washed your hands, and then headed to the exit.

Instead of leaving, you turned for the grand staircase, taking yourself up to the bedroom in the west wing.

You marvelled at how identical it was. “Marguerite has been there more than once, I’m sure of it.”

“I think so,” Jinyoung announced, and you spun around, staring at the distance between you both. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I don’t know what’s acceptable or not in this realm.”

“I guess we have to get adjusted to modern times again.”

“In this year we weren’t married,” he mentioned, stepping closer to you. “Not even dating.”

“No, we were almost strangers. A pair who fought over a door opening between them two years ago,” you announced with a grin, and Jinyoung chuckled.

“What if we both agree that Bertha and Thomas opened that door between us?”

“Then I think we’d have to agree that they also took us someplace today,” you answered, taking a step towards Jinyoung. He reached out for your waist, and you almost hummed with happiness.

It felt just as natural as it had before.

“And in that world, we fell in love.”

“Will we in this world?” you wondered as Jinyoung tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“It is Valentine’s Day still. Should I take you on our first date?”

“Was our first date back then when we chopped wood together?”

Jinyoung laughed and leaned down to brush his lips over yours. “I promise I have no need to chop wood in this lifetime.”

“You were awfully good at it, though.”

“So you did watch me.”

“Intently,” you divulged, slipping your hands up over his chest and resting them on his shoulders. “I’d like that date.”

“I’d like it too.”

“And then what happens after it?” you asked, chewing your lip with anticipation.

“Well, it’s our turn to tell the story. Thomas and Bertha have their world, but this is ours. Whatever happens next, we’ll have to write it down in our own book.”

“The Tale of Love: Then and Now,” you named it, and Jinyoung laughed, hugging you warmly.

“Whatever it’s called, so long as you remain close to my heart, I know I’ll live happily ever after.”

_________________

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

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[bloodypapercut]

common people (g.w. x reader)

hi loves! i’ve been listening to pulp so much and everytime common people plays i immediately think of george so i wanted to write something. i hope you all enjoy! <3

(requests are open)

word count: 2.8k

No prank, no act of mischief, no joke had ever managed to coerce the feelings that resided within George at that moment. The memory had been playing in his head for weeks since that day in Hogsmeade. The vivid image of her nose and cheeks dusted pink as snowflakes landed in her hair, her hand gripping at paper bag from Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop, and her hair whipping around her. He was consumed by her being, she radiated a sense of comfort and warmth that George had never felt from a complete stranger. She intrigued him in every imaginable way, he wanted to know everything about her, each sense in his body was heightened simply by being in her wake. It was the way she carried herself, something about it just seemed so different and enticing. He contemplated going up to her, but he knew with Fred right by his side it would not end well. So he watched from afar, unaware of Fred repeatedly kicking snow in his direction, a mediocre attempt on his behalf to capture his attention so they could go to Zonko’s.

It was breakfast, the bustle of knives and forks against plates, teaspoons against teacups, and the early morning chatter saturated with frivolous morning civility integrated into the usual dissonance of the great hall. George couldn’t bother to act interested in the conversation Fred and Lee tried to reel him into, whatever it was they were talking about was insipid compared to what he had in mind. Pushing around the strawberries on his plate with his fork, his head lulled against his palm, an attempt to subtly survey the room in order to find that girl from all those weeks ago. He’d seen her roaming the halls occasionally, or sitting hunched over a book quietly scribbling on a piece of parchment, or speaking in hushed tones to her housemates, none of it had helped his undying curiosity. She plagued his thoughts, he could relate almost anything to her somehow, despite the fact he had not once spoken to her. She was an enigma and he wanted nothing more than to know everything about her, to learn every habit, every favorite, and every detail.

He brought his cup of orange juice closer to his lips but as he looked around the room once again he saw her. She was leaving the great hall, a leather bag hanging on her shoulder loosely and a pile of books resting against her hip. There it was, that overwhelming cloak of emotions resting on his shoulders once again. Without thinking he rushed to her, no plan present in his mind.

“Hey, hi.” He panted, planted his hand against a pillar trying to catch his breath. She spun quickly, nearly dropping her books. As her gaze cast down at the hunched boy, she wondered what on earth he was doing saying hi to her, or if it was even directed at her.

“Hello? Um are you alright, you look a little red?”

“All for you love.” He winked, still struggling to steady his respiration. Her laugh was just as awkward as the situation and she tried her hardest to divert her attention to anything but the ginger in front of her. The crumbling stone walls, the rusty nails that the portraits hung on, the ornate handles on the classroom doors, she tried but she couldn’t. Because she was just as enthralled by his presence as he was with hers.

“I’ve seen you around.”

“So have I, Weasley.” She smiled warmly, an attempt to alleviate the tension.

“Is that right?”

“Indeed it is.” Another moment of uncomfortable silence followed.  

“Well, um anyway I was wondering if you’d like to go to the lake together sometime? If you want that is don’t feel pressured to say yes just because I asked you, it’s completely okay if you don’t-”

“Hey, calm down, yeah sure I don’t see why not.” The weight of her hand felt right against his forearm and he wanted to hold it in place forever, he grinned bashfully at her hand, which didn’t go unnoticed as she had squeezed his arm upon seeing his line of sight.

“4?”

“4.” She nodded before letting go of his arm and walking off, not bothering to glance over her shoulder.

After that afternoon together they became inseparable. Their lives orbit around the other and they learned everything there was to know about their partner, well almost. There was one thing she had kept from him, something that would normally be considered frivolous but in their case was quite the contrary. She hadn’t revealed that she was a part of the Rosier family, a pureblood family, similar to the Malfoys or the Blacks. Though she was treated with nothing but disdain for being a 'traitor' by her relatives, she was still technically a Rosier. She felt wrong for keeping it from him, but she never let that convince her to divulge her secret. She tried convincing herself that it wasn’t important, that it didn’t change anything. But she knew it did, it changed everything. No matter how many times she tried to delude herself, the intrusive thoughts that never stopped urging her to tell him continued their unabating blathering. Though she knew she never acted like them or shared their mentality, she knew how it would come across and she knew how George would react. A member of the Rosier family, a family known for possessing ostentatious pride due to their pureblood status dating someone part of a family deemed to be a stain on the sacred 28. Y/N was scared to lose everything she had with George, she was too afraid of the unknown so she kept it from him for as long as she could. That was a mistake, a huge one.

Everything seemed to be fine but one afternoon, when Y/N found that George wasn’t where they had agreed to meet she grew concerned. Her footsteps echoed as she ran to his dorm, worried he was hurt or in trouble.

“I know.”

“What are you talking about Georgie.” Her laughs were forced and stiff, she found it unusual for him to be so solemn. But as his shoulders deflated and his back hunched over his book she knew something was wrong, and she knew what it was. Before he could utter a single word she had already started berating herself in her head. How could one be so selfish? So inconsiderate and dull?

“You never told me? Why didn’t you ever tell me?” The incessant beating of her heart filled her ears, almost deafening her and making her unable to hear George’s voice, the voice that was usually filled with joy now sounded devastated and tumultuous. Tears had already threatened to cascade both of their cheeks and it was just a matter of time before someone started weeping.

“I didn’t think it mattered, I just wa-”

“But it does matter. It matters so much, are you completely oblivious to how the world works? How unfair it is to people like me? To people in my family? We’re a joke to people like you, so what was this all about?”

“I- George I’m with you because I love you, that’s all I swear. I’m not like them, I’m not.”

“So why'd you hide it then? Why couldn’t you just tell me?” His voice was hushed and fragile, he struggled to keep a steady tone, by instinct he remained stoic but his voice revealed how betrayed he felt.

“I just wanted a simple life, where it didn't matter your last name or your class or your blood purity, I didn’t want this to change our relationship. I wanted to be like everyone else. I want the future we always talk about, I don't care for any of that pureblood mania.”

“No! No you can’t say that not when you’re literally in one of the most prestigious and honored pureblood families. You don’t understand how bloody lucky you are Y/N! Honestly, have you ever realized that? You can do whatever you want and even if you fail you will never fall on your arse, but me, no I can’t do that if I failed I’m fucked. You can get away with anything with a simple call to your father, you can buy your way to the top. Why would you hide this from me? All this time, was I some charity case? Did your family force you to be with me just to get dirt on mine?”

“What? No! George! No...I just didn’t want this to change things and I’m sorry I’m so so sorry, I love you so much I was just scared please .”

“You’re just like the rest of them.”

“Oh, I- if that’s what you think, I’ll just leave you be, I’m sorry.” With her head hung low and tears clouding her vision she made haste to locate the doorknob and rush out of his room. She ignored the frantic footsteps and calls of worry from Hermione and Harry as she bulleted out of the common room. She ignored Fred and Lee who were sitting on the bench in a corridor as they scribbled onto sheets of parchment, she ignored Luna who tried to grab her attention, and Cho, and Angelina, and Neville, everyone, she was verklempt and if anyone even gave her a look of sympathy she knew she’d break down in tears.

The rest of the afternoon she stayed quietly in her bed, curled up in a ball with crumpled tissues surrounding her. She felt guilty for crying, she had brought this onto herself. That didn’t stop her though because upon realizing what she had done, the image of George so distraught, so disappointed, plagued her mind and broke her heart even more. It was something that would plague her memories forever. It was ruined, they were ruined.

Days dragged like molasses dripping from a spoon, every walk between class there he’d be, leaning against a pillar while throwing his head back in laughter, or during meal times, his arms flailing as he retold a story about a prank, or in the library his head lulling to the side as he waited for Fred to determine the missing ingredient for a potion they wanted to perfect before selling it. It hurt her, seeing that he was completely fine without her, like everything was normal. He was everywhere, and even if he wasn’t physically, mentally he was. The words rang in her ears again and again ‘you’re just like the rest of them,’ it stung each time it repeated. She was starting to believe that she was just as bad as they are, just as selfish and malevolent and spiteful. It clawed at the abyss of her mind, dragging her entire being into a spiral of endless darkness.

The air was cold, the kind that nipped at all your nose and made it hard to breathe. The walk from Y/N’s potions class to herbology wasn’t pleasant as her fingers turned numb and red. The stone flooring crumbled under her black school shoes as she kicked the pieces that already broke off. She watched as the pebbles ricocheted from the toe of the black vinyl to a slightly elevated stone tile, she’d focus on anything but the things that lingered in her subconscious. It had been working in her favor for the past couple of weeks, or months, she couldn’t really tell, everything blurred into one continuous string of agonizing events. She found herself being unaware of what was in front of her because without even realizing it she bumped directly into the boy she’d been trying to make sure her thoughts were devoid of. On instinct, his arms immediately gripped her forearms and her hands pressed against his chest. Time moved slower than ever as their eyes slowly raked up from where their hands were to the eyes of who they were on. They scrambled from each other, muttering pathetic ‘sorry’s and speed walking with promptitude to opposite ends of the corridor.

The worst part was that no matter how often they tried to steer away from the other, they’d always cross each other's path. It got to the point where they weren’t even trying to hide their yearning to talk, they’d openly send longing stares but would never act on their desires. So much was unsaid and they realized they couldn’t just leave how things were, they had to talk about where they stood. The conclusion of that conversation was unclear and that’s what frightened them the most. The reality was that every day they refused to communicate out of obdurate pride, their relationship became more and more decrepit. George felt doltish and penitent, he didn’t mean what he said, he was hurt, angry and confused. Y/N felt guilty, she hurt the love of her life due to her selfish wishes to avoid confrontation.

It had been about 2 months, 2 agonizing, and treacherous months. George finally cracked, and much like the way things had started between them, he was looking for her in the great hall. He searched, pushing himself up slightly against the table, for any sign of her, anyone who would know where she was. It didn’t take long as he found Luna’s prolific hair, and there she was sitting right next to her. He could see her pushing around the vegetables on the golden plate in front of her, her cheek resting in her palm as a dejected countenance presented itself on her face. It saddened him to see her beautiful face so full of despondency. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to talk to her, he’d gone crazy without her. He abhorred pretending it didn’t phase him when he wasn’t with her, she had become a vital part of his life in such a short time. He knew she meant well. He wanted to fix things, he had to. Swiftly George dug through Ron’s back to grab a piece of parchment and scribbled using the quill Hermione was using, to the both of their dismays. He acted before he could fully process what his plan was because before he knew it he was faced with Y/N. Her eyes widened upon his arrival but before she could think of anything to say he placed the folded piece of parchment in front of her plate and dashed to the Gryffindor table. Dropping her fork she unfolded the parchment and smiled softly at the scraggly writing she adored so much.

'Astronomy Tower at 8?'

-----

She feared that she'd collapse as she feebly made her way up the steps to the astronomy tower. Her gloved hand held the note firmly, hoping that there was still a chance for them to fix everything. As she rounded the corner to ascend the final steps she found George sitting there.

"Y/N, you came" He breathed out, almost in disbelief.

"I'll take any chance to see you again." She mentally berated herself for saying something so sappy, but she noticed his eyes widen and his back straighten slightly.

"You're early."

"So are you."

"Yeah, I- uh yeah. I wanted to make sure I didn't miss you." A heavy silence fell upon them and they bore holes into each other with their apprehensive stares, waiting to see who would speak first.

"I'm sorry." "I'm sorry." They blurted at the same time, but Y/N nodded for him to continue.

"I didn't mean it, any of it. You're nothing like them I know that, just shocked me y'know? I should've never said those cruel, demeaning things to you, I know who you really are and I love you. Merlin, I'm so deeply and madly in love with you, and I really hope I haven't screwed us up. I understand if you don't want to get back together, after everything, but please if there is still a part of you that wants 'us' to happen again, tell me."

She nodded enthusiastically throwing herself into George's direction, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face between his shoulder and neck. He immediately pulled back slightly to grab her face with his hands, rubbing her cheeks with his thumbs. He pressed his forehead against hers and smiled so hard his face hurt.

"I meant everything I said, about the future and wanting to spend it with you. My mother and father...they're relatives but not family, they've never felt like home the way that you do." She felt him nod against her forehead. He held her chin between his index and thumb, tilting her head so her lips met his. He ghosted his lips over hers, brushing past them before connecting them softly. The warmth he's always felt ever since he saw her returned, and it cloaked his senses as he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. After minutes of fervently compensating for lost time, with roaming hands and whispers or repeated 'i love you's and plans for their future, they pulled apart. Standing in silence in each other's embrace, they knew they'd make it through all the tumultuous times ahead because they had each other.

[drinkingthemoon]

BRB I’m Shifting to Twilight

So about a month ago I discovered reality shifting through TikTok and have since fallen deep down the rabbit hole.  If you’re unaware, shifting is basically the process of moving your consciousness out of your current reality and into a new one that matches your desires.  It goes off the multiverse theory, that there are infinite realities existing simultaneously and we actually shift every second with every choice we make.  Since realities are infinite everything is possible.  Lot’s of people are shifting to Hogwarts, for example.

You script what you want to happen.  You can write yourself into the wizarding world and be friends with the golden trio or you can shift to a world exactly like this, the only difference your appearance or job.  It’s important to note that scripting is not the process of creating a reality, it’s more like choosing the reality you want to be in.  Since every possible reality exists anything you script is already real.  There are no constraints, you can go anywhere, do anything, and you can have more than one desired reality too.  Want to go to Hogwarts, be a Marvel superhero, and a K-pop idol?  Go for it, you can have as many DRs as you want.

When you shift you leave behind what is called a “clone,” which sounds scary but it’s actually just you.  Your awareness moves into your new life and in this reality your clone takes over, behaving and feeling exactly as you do unless you script otherwise.  You can script that your clone will clean your room or study for your classes, take care of themselves and others, etc.  You can also script how time moves.  You can make it so that a year in your DR is only a minute here.

My current DR is my own Twilight AU (and no I’m not ashamed don’t come for me.)  I really went overboard on my script to be honest.  Scripting isn’t even necessary but people recommend it just so you have a clearer picture of where you’re trying to go.  Most people write up a page or two describing their desired appearance, personality, relationships, and life.  My script is nearly seventy pages.  I wrote out in depth profiles detailing the pasts and personalities for everyone in my DR, used Face App and Photoshop to create totally original character portraits, and poured over the official Twilight illustrated guide to make sure I had all the details necessary.  I even used Google Maps to make custom maps of Forks that are CR accurate but with all the locations from the books in their proper places.

Yes, I’m fucking nuts.

I’ve been immersed in this for thirty days now, though I’ve only truly attempted to shift maybe twelve or so times.  I haven’t managed it yet.  This is where my frustrations come in.  Shifting is supposedly all about belief.  If you don’t truly think shifting is real and that you can do it, you won’t.  Everyone is different.  Some people shift on their first try and for some people it takes weeks, months, or even years.  This is partly what trips me up.  One cannot shift if they don’t believe they can, but is it even possible to truly believe something so outrageous and too good to be true?  Part of me does believe it, at least I keep telling myself that I do, but I also have doubts.

There are tons of “methods” that you can research and attempt in order to shift.  Many involve affirmations, counting, meditation, inducing sleep paralysis or creating lucid dream portals, etc. but people say that even methods are unnecessary.  Shifting is easy, apparently you can literally close your eyes in this reality and open them in another the same second if you truly believe in yourself.  This is a major issue to me for some reason and is actually starting to impact my mental health negatively.  It’s basically saying that if you’re not shifting then you only have yourself to blame.  You don’t believe enough, you don’t have faith, you’re getting in your own way.  “Just go home,” everyone says.  “Shifting is as easy as breathing,” they claim, and if you can’t do it it’s because you haven’t done enough work on yourself.

I did get super close once.  I was in bed, lying perfectly still for nearly an hour trying to induce sleep paralysis (as it is supposedly one of the easiest methods, shifting through SP.)  My entire body was numb, I felt disconnected from my limbs, lights were flashing behind my closed lids and it felt like I was falling.  These are all the common shifting symptoms but I think I started affirming that I was in my DR too soon and pulled myself out.

Despite coming so close I still don’t know what I believe honestly.  Are we actually shifting into a real alternate universe or are we just splitting our consciousness so that our awareness goes into a sort of hyper-realistic hallucination?  I find it easier to believe it’s more like a waking dream than an actual existing destination, but does thinking that mean I won’t shift because I’m doubting it’s validity?  It’s infuriating.  According to the many people who claim to have shifted everything feels exactly as real as it does here.  It’s supposedly nothing like a lucid dream, everything is solid and you are fully awake.  You can do everything there that you can here plus more and you don’t ever have to leave if you don’t want to.  Once you’re there you can stay forever.

I think I’m going to take a break though.  Breaks are important apparently, you need to have high vibrations and lots of energy in order to shift and I’ve been feeling very drained lately.  The trying and failing while so many others are claiming to succeed is making me depressed.  I’ve been actively trying to detach from everything in this reality and am partially succeeding but that just makes me feel worse every time I fail to wake up in my DR bedroom.  I don’t want to be here anymore, my family doesn’t feel like my family and I miss the friends I have in my DR even though I technically haven’t met them yet.  That makes me feel guilty though, which I’m sure is also impeding my shifting.  I want to leave behind my friends and family and pets and it makes me feel like a bad person.

I am grateful for what I have in this reality, but this isn’t my home.  I'm not happy here and I haven’t been for 12 years now.  If there is even the slightest possibility that I can escape into a universe where I might actually like myself then is that so selfish?  I don’t think so.  And the people I know here won’t even know I’m gone.  They’d be better off with my clone in truth, he’s going to be a better friend and do a better job here than I ever could.  That’s how I scripted him anyway.

I do believe in shifting and I am going home.  In truth I’m there already, I just have to get my awareness to switch over.  I want the constant cloud cover, to inhale the scent of fresh rain and run my fingers over the squishy moss-covered mother logs.  I want to walk through the misty forests and feel their chill.  Falling in love and eventually becoming a practically indestructible immortal is really just a bonus to me.

God, I sound fucking crazy.  Sigh--  

     -Astral  

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Throwback Thursday

[I’ve always adored Stephen’s scarred hands--so painfully damaged and yet so eloquent and beautiful, as they are emblematic of his soul’s journey. In this excerpt from ‘Friday in the Park with Stephen’, a new friend literally takes the opportunity to show him the beauty he can’t see for himself, through her eyes. On my permanent wishlist--or if I should ever strike it rich--is to commission a piece like the one Hope creates for him.]

He found a large manila envelope waiting on the desk in the study he had commandeered as his own.  It was marked in one corner ‘Please Do NOT Bend’, addressed simply ‘Stephen Strange’, and had to have been hand delivered, for there was no stamp or postmark—and in place of a return address was the inked image of a small but vibrantly blue butterfly, leaving him without a doubt whom had left it for him.  Intrigued, Stephen carefully slit beneath the sealed flap and pulled out two pieces of 11 x 14 cardstock that had a piece of sketch paper sandwiched between them.  He thought that it must be the portrait Hope had done of him, as that sat on the grass in Washington Square Park, and he smiled broadly despite his exhaustion, recalling the pleasant way they had whiled away the day, of their evening stroll to Hope’s place in Brooklyn, of the starlight kisses they had shared—and most especially of how reverently she had held his hand against her cheek, gingerly kissing his scarred flesh...Stephen let out a slow breath, and with hands that tremored from his old injury, removed the sketch from its protective cover.

“Whoa,” was all he managed, thunderstruck by a new image which Hope has so faithfully rendered.  

The paper itself was similar to that in her sketch pad, but even to his untrained eye, of higher quality.  She had titled the piece The Nature of Beauty--and had depicted a beauty he had honestly not believed was there.  Her Artist’s eye was truly keen, for she had captured his every minutia from memory alone.  The back of his left hand was displayed as though on its side, with his right hand draped across that wrist.  She had added both his bracelets (fashioned of bead and leather, gifted to him by the elders of an Indi village after he had vanquished a Blight Demon that had laid waste to nearly half their fields) and his watch; he recalled her curiosity at him wearing a broken timepiece, and how she had only nodded in understanding when he replied it held sentimental value beyond any question of time, respecting his privacy enough not to press for more.

Hope had thoroughly filled in the details, even down to the cracks on the watch face. His fingers were relaxed, though his right index finger was held just slightly bent—and upon it sat the Blue Morpho, it’s wings and body so meticulously portrayed that Stephen could almost see it flutter slightly.  She had drawn the piece in blacks and greys, with the subtlest hints of color at the his beaded bracelet and his watchband--though the butterfly held the echo of it’s true color, in sky blue chalk (so like the color of the sky that afternoon) which she had treated with a some kind of fixative to keep it from smudging.  He found the sketch reminiscent of DaVinci’s detailed, realistic style, in his multitude of studies of the human form—the perfection of the human form which he had ever worshipped. Lastly, Hope had placed the date in the lower, righthand corner, and her initials bordered on the sketch itself.

But his favorite detail—one he never would have guessed he would find pleasing—was her depiction of the scars upon his hands. Hope had not stinted in depicting the weals that marked them, but she had given them an unexpected softness that left him with a soft appreciation in the center of his chest.  Stephen decided on the spot that he would have it framed right away, to hang above the small desk in his quarters; it would be a gentle reminder of that old axiom ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’—and of an extraordinary soul whom fate had somehow sent in his direction on a sunny, spring afternoon.

Hope had taped a note loosely on the reverse of the sketch, which he removed with care. It read:

Dear Stephen,

I hope you enjoy this piece as much as I have enjoyed creating it.  This is the original, of course—but I have kept a scan of it for my portfolio.  At the least, perhaps it will remind you that beauty is well beyond skin deep, and others often see what we think of as our flaws in a kinder light than we see ourselves.

You may not know this, but in many cultures blue butterflies symbolize joy, beauty, and good fortune—most appropriate when I think how lucky it was that our paths came to cross that day.  Thank you for allowing me the privilege of trying my best to capture the unique beauty of your hands…scars and all.

Sincerely,

Hope

PS   I promised patience, and I swear I am a woman of my word.  But please do keep trying, Stephen—as I’m certain that our paths are meant to cross again. xx

                         ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞

[If you’ve read this in full, I thank you, Kind Reader. And if you’d like to read more, Stephen and Hope have the chance to deepen their relationship--amidst plenty of angst--in my fic 14000604 .]

[sisterofiris]

Everyday life in the Hittite empire

Have you ever wondered what your life would have been like if you had been born in central Anatolia 3500 years ago? No? Now that I’ve brought it up, are you curious to find out?

Well you’re in luck, because that’s just what this post is about. So sit back, close your eyes, and imagine yourself in Anatolia - that is, modern Turkey. Are you ready? Can you see the mountains, the red river and the towering buildings of your capital, Ḫattuša? Can you hear the chariots driving up the road? Can you feel the electric brewing of a storm in the distance?

Then let’s go.

(With a brief disclaimer: while I study Hittitology, this is not intended as an academic-level post. It was written to give general, approachable insights into Hittite culture and can be used as writing inspiration or to titillate curious history nerds around you, but if you’re writing an academic paper on the subject, I would recommend you check out the bibliography instead.)

About you

First things first, are you older than five? If so, congratulations on being alive. Child mortality in this place and time is very high, so you’re one of the luckier ones among your siblings. You probably have at least a couple of those; you may even have as many as six or seven, especially if you come from a well-to-do family with access to good healthcare. When you were little, your parents might have told you the tale of Zalpa, in which the queen of Neša gives birth to thirty sons then thirty daughters who marry each other, but you know this only happens in the stories - not to normal people.

When you were born, your parents rejoiced regardless of your sex, as sons and daughters are equally valued in your society (albeit for different reasons). Your father took you on his knee and gave you a good Hittite name: maybe Armawiya, Ḫarapšili, Kilušḫepa or Šiwanaḫšušar for a girl, or Anuwanza, Kantuzili, Muwaziti or Tarḫuzalma for a boy. Gender-neutral names, such as Anna, Muwa and Šummiri, would also have been an option. Many people around you have Hurrian or Luwian names, even if they are not ethnically Hurrian or Luwian themselves. (This is comparable to the modern popularity of Hispanic names like Diego, or French names like Isabelle.)

It’s hard to say what you would have done during childhood. While your earliest years would have been spent playing and babbling in grammatically incorrect Hittite, by the age of six or seven you may well have already started training in the family profession. If a girl, you would have been taught to weave by your mother; if a boy, you might have helped your father out on the farm, tried your hand at making pottery, or spent long hours learning cuneiform. (There may have been careers requiring gender non-conformity, as there was in Mesopotamia, but as far as I am aware this has not been proven.) You know that even the noblest children are given responsibilities - king Ḫattušili himself was once a stable boy.

Now, as an adult, you are a working professional contributing directly to Hittite society. You look the very portrait of a Hittite: as a woman, you have long, dark hair that you probably keep veiled, and as a man, your hair is around shoulder-length and your face clean-shaven. Ethnically, though, you are likely a mixture of Hittite, Luwian, Hurrian, Hattian, and depending on when and where exactly you live, maybe Assyrian, Canaanite or even Greek. There’s a fair chance Hittite might not actually be your native language. Still, you consider yourself a Hittite, and a subject of the Hittite king.

Well, now you know who you are, let’s get along with your day!

Your home and environment

Your day begins the way most people’s days do: you wake up at home, in your bed. As an average Hittite, you probably sleep on the floor rather than on elevated furniture. Your floor is either paved or of beaten earth, and your house itself has stone foundations and mud brick walls, with a flat roof supported by timber beams. Windows are scarce and small, to keep the indoor temperature stable.

Outside, the rest of the settlement is waking up too. Statistically, you live in a village or small town, surrounded by forest and mountains. Summers here are hot and dry, and winters cold and snowy, with spring and autumn being marked by thunderstorms. Most inhabitants work as farmers, relying on the weather for their survival. Contagious illnesses are a constant threat - under king Muršili II, the land suffered a deadly plague for twenty years - as are enemy invasions. If you live within the bend of the red river, in the Hittite heartland, consider yourself lucky; if not, your settlement could well be shifting from one kingdom’s property to another and falling prey to both sides’ raids on a yearly basis.

Admitting no enemy forces are in the area today, you take your time to get up. You might tiredly stumble to the outhouse to go pee. Eventually, you’ll want to get dressed.

Clothing

As a man, your clothes comprise of a kilt or sleeved tunic, with a belt of cloth or leather. As a woman, you wear a long dress and, if you are married, a veil. All clothing is made from wool or linen, and a variety of dyes exist: red, yellow, blue, green, black and white are all colours mentioned in texts. If you are rich enough, you may be able to import purple-dyed fabric from Lazpa (Greek Lesbos) or the Levant. You will also want to flaunt your wealth with jewellery, regardless of gender.

Of course, your shoes have upturned ends in the Hittite style. Historians will tease you for this. Don’t listen to them. You look awesome.

Mealtime!

It’s now time for one of your two daily meals (the other will take place in the evening, after your work for the day is done). This will be prepared at the hearth, a vital element of every home, and which is likely connected to an oven. The staple of your diet is bread; in fact, it is so common that “bread”, in cuneiform texts, is used as a general term for food. It is usually made from wheat or barley, but can also be made from beans or lentils.

Worried you’ll get bored of it? You needn’t be: your society has enough types of bread that you could eat a different one each day for a whole season. Fig bread, sour bread, flat bread and honey bread are just some of your options, along with spear bread and moon bread... yes, in other words, baguettes and croissants. (Something tells me the Hittites and the French would have a lot to talk about.)

You also have various fruits and vegetables available: cucumber, leek, carrots, peas, chickpeas, lentils, beans, olives, figs, dates, grapes, pomegranates, onions, garlic, and more. Your diet is completed by animal products, including cheese, milk, butter, and meat, mainly from sheep and goats but also cows and wild game. Honey, too, is common.

These ingredients can be combined into all sorts of dishes. Porridge is popular, as are stews, both vegetarian and meat-based. Meat can also be broiled and quite possibly skewered onto kebabs. And of course, food would be boring without spices, so you have a variety of those to choose from too: coriander are cumin are just two of them.

As for drinks, you can have beer, wine, beer-wine (good luck figuring out what that is), milk or water. If you’re well-to-do enough, you may own a rhyton, a drinking vessel shaped like an animal such as a stag or bull. Don’t forget to libate to the Gods before drinking your share.

Daily work

The next thing on your plate, after food, is work. What you do depends on your social status and gender, and most likely, you do the same work as your parents did before you. You could be something well-known like a king, priest, scribe, merchant, farmer or slave, but don’t assume those are all the possibilities; you could also be, for example, a gardener, doctor, ritual practitioner, potter, weaver, tavern keeper, or perfume maker.

It’s impossible to go into detail on every career option you would have in Hittite society, so for the sake of brevity, let’s just discuss four - two male-dominated, and two female-specific.

Farmer

As a farmer, you are the backbone of your society. You and your peers are responsible for putting food on the plates of Hittites everywhere, thus ensuring the survival of the empire.

Like many farmers, you live on a small estate, most likely with both crops (or an orchard) and livestock to take care of. You may own cows, sheep, goats, pigs, horses, donkeys, and/or ducks. Your daily routine and tools aren’t that different from other pre-industrial cultures, though you have it a little rougher than most due to the Anatolian mountain terrain. If you have the means, you hire seasonal workers - both male and female - to help out as farmhands, and you may own a few slaves.

You get up early to milk the cows, and at the onset of summer, you or a hired herdsman may lead your livestock up to mountain pastures to graze. Depending on the season and the work that needs to be done, you may spend your day ploughing the fields, harvesting grain or fruit, tending livestock, shearing sheep, birthing a calf, repairing the barn, or various other tasks. Make sure to take proper care of everything: new animals are expensive, and losing one could get you into a precarious situation. In particular, you’ll want to keep an eye out for bears, wolves, foxes, and even lions and leopards.

Scribe

Few people are literate in Hittite society, and you are one of the lucky ones. You have been learning to read and write in three languages (Sumerian, Akkadian and Hittite) since childhood, and after long years of copying lexical lists and ancient myths, your education is now complete.

As a scribe, you are the dreaded bureaucrat. In a small town, you likely work alongside the town administrator, recording tax collections and enemy sightings as well as corresponding with other towns, and with the capital. You and your peers are the go-to people for officialising marriage agreements and divorces, drawing up work contracts, and creating sales receipts. If not in the town administration, you could also work in a temple, recording the results of oracles, cross-checking the correct procedures for a ritual, and making sure everything necessary for a festival is available. If you are particularly lucky, you may be employed by the nobility or even the palace, and be entrusted with such confidential tasks as writing the king’s annals or drafting an international treaty.

Regardless of where you are, two things are essential to your job: a stylus and a tablet. You may be a “scribe of the clay tablets”, in which case you will need to carry around a bit of clay wherever you go (and some water to moisten it). Otherwise, you are a “scribe of the wooden tablets”, in which case you use a wax tablet in a wooden frame, which requires less maintenance. It’s unclear whether these types of tablet are used for different purposes.

Fun fact: you likely have a few pen pals around the Hittite empire. After corresponding with other scribes for so long, you’ve started writing each other messages at the bottom of your tablets, asking each other how you’re doing and to say hi to each other’s families. Your employers needn’t know.

Weaver

Weaving, to a Hittite like you, is the quintessential female activity, along with textile-making in general. Like farming, this is a backbone of your society: without weaving, there would be no clothes, and without clothes, well, you can’t do much.

As a weaver, you produce textiles for your family and in many cases also for sale. You work in an atelier within your home, along with the other women of the household, keeping an eye on your smallest children as they play nearby. While your husband, brothers or sons may transport and sell your handiwork, you are the head of your own business.

You are skilled in multiple weaving techniques, and can do embroidery and sew fabric into various shapes (including sleeves - take that, Classical Greeks). You create clothing for all sorts of occasions, including rituals and festivals, outdoor work, and winter weather, and if you are lucky enough to be commissioned by the nobility, you put your best efforts into clothing that will show off their status. Don’t try to cheat anyone out of their money, though; prices are fixed by law.

Old Woman

Contrary to what you might expect, you don’t need to be old to be an Old Woman - this is a career just like any other, though it probably does require a certain amount of life experience and earned respect. As an Old Woman, you are a trained ritual practitioner and active in all sorts of cultic, divinatory and magical ceremonies.

Most commonly, you are hired for rituals protecting against or removing evil. Your services may solve domestic quarrels, cure a sick child, or shield someone from sorcery (a constant threat in your society). This is done through symbolic acts like cutting pieces of string, breaking objects, and sacrificing and burning animals, which are of course accompanied by incantations - sometimes in Hittite, sometimes in other languages, like Hurrian.

Far from a village witch, you are high-placed in Hittite society and trusted by the royal family itself. You have taken part in major rituals and festivals, including funerals, and you perform divinatory oracles too. This last responsibility gives you a large amount of influence over the king and queen; if you establish that something should be done, then it almost certainly will be. Use this power well... or not.

Your loved ones

After a long day ploughing fields, writing tablets, weaving clothes or reciting incantations, it’s finally time to reunite with your loved ones. For adults, these likely - but not necessarily! - include a spouse and children. You may just live with your nuclear family, but living with extended family is also common, and there may be as many as twenty people in your household. Siblings, aunts and uncles, parents, grandparents, children and babies all share the evening meal with you, and some nights, you might gather afterwards to sing and dance, tell stories, and play games.

You also have relationships outside of home. Friendship is valued by Hittite society, with close friends calling each other “brother” and sister”. You might meet up with them regularly at the local tavern for a beer and a bit of fun. Someone there might even catch your eye... Interestingly, there are no laws against that person being of the same gender as you. So, same or different gender, why not try your luck tonight?

Greater powers

It’s impossible to spend a day in the Hittite empire without encountering religion. The Land of a Thousand Gods is aptly named: Gods are in everything, from the sun to the mountains to the stream at the back of your house to fire to a chair. You should always be conscious of their power, and treat them with respect. Though there are few traces of it, you may have a household shrine where you make libations or offer a portion of your meal. Your Gods may be represented by anthropomorphic statues, by animals such as a bull, by symbols such as gold disks, or even by a stone. Either way, treat these objects well; the divine is literally present in them.

You should also be wary of sorcery. Never make clay figures of someone, or kill a snake while speaking someone’s name, or you will face the death penalty. Likewise, always dispose of impurities carefully, especially those left over from a purification ritual (such as mud, ashes, or body hair). Never toss them onto someone else’s property. Has misfortune suddenly struck your household? Is your family or livestock getting sick and dying? These are signs that someone has bewitched you.

Some days are more sacred than others. You participate in over a hundred festivals every year, some lasting less than a day, some lasting a month, some local, some celebrated by the entire Hittite empire. The most important of these are the crocus festival and the purulli festival in spring, the festival of haste in autumn, and the gate-house festival, possibly also in autumn. The statues of the Gods are brought out of the temples, great feasts are held, and entertainment is provided through music, dance and sports contests. Depending on how important your town is, the king, queen or a prince might even be in attendance. All this excitement is a nice break from your regular work!

Sleep and dreams

Phew, what a busy day it’s been. The sun, snared in the trees’ branches, has set on the Hittite land, and you are ready for bed. Time to wrap yourself snugly in blankets and go to sleep.

You may dream, in which case, try to remember as much as you can. Dreams can be a vehicle for omens. Maybe, if the Gods are kind, you might catch a glimpse of what the next days, months and years hold in store for you.

Good night!

Bibliography

Beckman, Gary, “Birth and Motherhood among the Hittites”, in Budin, Stephanie Lynn, Macintosh Turfa, Jean, Women in Antiquity: Real Women across the Ancient World, Abingdon 2016 (pp. 319-328).

Bryce, Trevor, Life and Society in the Hittite World, Oxford 2002.

Bryce, Trevor, “The Role and Status of Women in Hittite Society”, in Budin, Stephanie Lynn, Macintosh Turfa, Jean, Women in Antiquity: Real Women across the Ancient World, Abingdon 2016 (pp. 303-318).

Golec-Islam, Joanna, The Food of Gods and Humans in the Hittite World, BA thesis, Warszawa 2016.

Hoffner, Harry A., “Birth and name-giving in Hittite texts”, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 27/3 (1968), pp. 198-203.

Hoffner, Harry A., “Daily life among the Hittites”, in Averbeck, Richard E., Chavalas, Marc W., Weisberg, David B., Life and Culture in the Ancient Near East, Bethesda 2003 (pp. 95-118).

Marcuson, Hannah, “Word of the Old Woman”: Studies in Female Ritual Practice in Hittite Anatolia, PhD thesis, Chicago 2016.

Wilhelm, Gernot, “Demographic Data from Hittite Land Donation Tablets”, in Pecchioli Daddi, Franca, Torri, Giulia, Corti, Carlo, Central-North Anatolia in the Hittite Period: New Perspectives in Light of Recent Research, Roma 2009 (pp. 223-233).

[nicknellie]

I hope that this didn’t take too much time to do so that you were able to get your schoolwork!! This is definitely after the fact but I wish you the best of luck with your work.

(Accidentally forgot to answer about Reggie having a box similar to Rose’s so I’m going to do that briefly)

1. Unlike Rose’s box which was going to be used by someone else Reggie’s was just going to be used by himself also probably only looked at by the rest of Sunset Curve so he probably didn’t think/care about what it was going to look like.

2. The fact that Reggie would go to Luke’s parents and ask for baby pictures is perfection. Also the fact that he just casually stole a box of baby photos and or has pictures of a random baby (if it’s not Bobby) is hilarious and I was laughing so hard at that.

3. Yes, and that would explain that why Reggie didn’t recognize the box at first just because it was a mindless one he made, maybe not even one of his boxes that he put thought into it (what photos/items should I use ect) but just random stuff

Now onto this post (just starting at 2 so the numbers line up)

2. Yes, maybe the guys don’t even get a chance to ask him what’s wrong but Reggie randomly blurts this out and then about five minutes later they’re all crying. Bobby forces all of them to talk, even Alex.

3. Yes that’s exactly what I mean! Just because although he does have his moments of indecisiveness he’s mostly not really an indecisive person so once he believes in some thing he stands with it 100%. For sure, if someone (usually Alex) points out why/how he was wrong Luke will admit that he was wrong (depending on the reasoning it’s mostly begrudgingly)

4. You took the words right out of my mouth and I also love the fact that you said that it’s usually when he’s writing and not in general, because I feel like outside of writing Luke tries to be as conscious as he can about his bandmates well-being and stuff. (‘Luke, once again you are not a solo artist if that was the case then Reggie would already have a country album out and me and Bobby would make our own little band of ourselves just to spite you’ Alex at some point)

5. Alex definitely has quick wit, however a lot of time he just doesn’t say it (unless it’s the boys)

6. Oh, that’s just hurtful thinking about that. After they passed Bobby was never the same, especially since everything that he loved and did had so many memories of the boys that for the longest time he couldn’t do some of them without thinking of them. Also when he went to the garage he was so overwhelmed with memories and the fact that they would never be anymore Sunset Curve memories.

8. Yes, I love that so much. Also I think part of the reason why the police alerted Emily and Mitch was because Luke was supposed to be a missing person so once Bobby confirmed that the body was Luke’s that’s when they were reached out too (long shot but just thinking)

The Rubik’s cube aw, maybe that’s the one thing that Bobby took just to remember them (a drawing of Reggie’s and a small jigsaw of Alex’s)

10. The theme park idea is genius, and I love the detail of Reggie feeling like a proud parent although the boys would gladly go onto a ride that Reggie is comfortable with (for some reason he loves roller coasters as long as they up closer to the ground, with being afraid of heights definitely not not something that goes up high). However Reggie doesn’t want to be a problem and has no issue watching them for a ride or two, hence the feeling of being like a parent.

Yes, and although Alex can tell that it’s a lie, Reggie gets rather emotional about it. (Reggie might have been the one who gave him the drink with the 6 shots of toffee nut and burst out into tears upon realizing)

11. That’s exactly what they are like, I feel like people may be able to tell that Reggie is lying however that’s a normal thing that he does so he easily could not be. (He is)

Luke “where is your kitchen by the way?” Patterson is the great thing I’ve seen. (yes Bobby is so causal to a point that it’s very obvious that it’s not causal hence for it being easy to tell that he’s lying)

13. Phew, wasn’t sure if I would be able to get the link to work or not so I’m glad that it was! (They are so talented, and that is such a great drawing of Reggie in my opinion)

Line dancing, yes also they random break out into square dancing. (Also the boys in cowboy hats and cowboy boots, all the fashion, is an image that I never thought I would need in my life)

14. I’m glad that you liked it! Also yess, also I just want to see one of the boys kind of make fun of Caleb with the devil point of view (bonus points if ‘nick’ is there and has to see everything)

Also I completely forgot to comment this last time, but Reggie is a huge Johnny Cash fan and those three songs are his favorite from the artist. (They are the most played songs and whenever the other boys hear them they are so done but eventually start singing along)

15. Also just randomly has Star Wars characters in the drawing, for the longest time a small Han-solo is what he used instead of a signature.

16. Wait yes I love that. I wasn’t thinking along those lines but that’s exact what happens. Reggie would also be the one who always tried to eat the batter (as does Luke and technically they are both banned from the kitchen)

17. Oh my goodness young Alex. I completely agree with what you said, also picturing a baby Alex with frosting all over his face from baking gone wrong

19. Yes, also Reggie randomly has the boys join him for dancing in the rain (thought of that due to the fact that you said rain is relaxing so Reggie would just always want to be out in the rain but not when it’s storming)

20. This is literally it’s the mindset of anyone who meets Alex

Even Willie gets on board, especially when he fell off his board (worst line I’ve ever said but Willie would be the pun making type of person)

Also if it was for anyone else then Emily and Mitch wouldn’t let them however since it’s Alex exactly as you said ‘boys let’s get in the car’

21. Yes, Alex always randomly shows up. Even has his own key for whenever he needs to stay there but no one is around, honestly Mitch doesn’t have a lot of characteristics (I mean the song is mostly focused on Luke’s mom and stuff) so him being a supportive father figure is everything

23. Agreed, I want all of this. Honestly anything and everything Rose is needed

24. I just want more performances from both actors because they are fantastic. Also the fact that Flying Solo didn’t have Flynn singing at all was a lost opportunity to be honest. Not sure if you’ve seen lemonade mouth however with Flynn as their rapper they would be that band

Willie and Alex singing together is everything I need, just a duet needs to be in season 2. Also we were robbed of them dancing and I blame Caleb, so them dancing is also needed in season two.

Exactly, Flynn is so loyal and we need more of her (also her and Carrie moments)

25. I agree I think it took him sometime to go to therapy. (Possibly when he had Carrie just because he didn’t want to fail as a father and thought it would help him stress less about being a father, also raising a kid with no support from his friends that would’ve definitely helped out)

26. Wait yes, I want to see all of this as well. Especially him explaining his actions and apologizing, and that idea of him being their manger is brilliant. Going on with that, just like with Sunset Curve he books the gigs and stuff and Flynn is their social media manger (just because she can not be apart of the band somehow)

27. I didn’t think about that fully but yes, the fact that Julie is getting older and he’s not would definitely hurt him

28. I love those songs titles, we also have ‘if you wake me up at 4AM again it will not be nice’ ‘Bobby I don’t care how much I love your pieces if you keep leaving your yarn in random places I will scream’

30. Yes, yes, that is precisely what happens and the only way Ray should find out that the boys are ghosts. Tia Victoria does react that and her and Alex bonding is everything (also her and Willie bonding because)

31. There are so many ruined photos and Reggie being so upset about it which is exactly what causes Bobby to master the skill.

32. Alex always has about five stickers, some that are for Reggie and a handful that fans also give to Alex because they can. Legitimately Sunset curves fan base is so supportive and one of the best boy band fan base ever. Luke was once given a portrait of the bandmembers as animals and it is probably framed somewhere, also Bobby has one that someone painted of the band. Honestly the reason why Alex was probably given a jigsaw is because Reggie randomly said that he liked them to a fan and they just had to give one to Alex.

34. Yes, Luke also got stuck in a fridge once much to everyone’s confusion. Him randomly being in a suit of armour is the greatest thing I have ever heard

35. Willie is extremely photogenic, yes. Legitimately Reggie has so many pictures of Willie and Alex and Willie being photogenic has just cause Reggie to take even more. And once this discovery is made, on the photography account there’s a lot more photos of someone skateboarding (also just in general photos of Willie). Just photo shoots with Reggie, like everyone has had one at some point (even Carlos)

37. Alex just gives Julie a massive hug, all of the time and especially when she is sad. Also she definitely takes that hoodie, all of them take his hoodies. Legitimately by this point it’s not just Alex‘s clothes it is the bands (also Flynn has a hoodie) (Willie has takes hoodies)

39. Wait yes, (possibly could’ve been Trevor who gave Carrie that idea for costumes because he remembers when Sunset Curve did). All of those colours fit so well, also I can kind of see Bobby is yellow. They definitely have matching onesies, like two or three pairs to be honest.

Best photo ever, that is exactly what they look like

40. Alex teaching Willie how to dance is adorable and I’m just thinking about how cute that would be. Due to seeing Willie dance during ‘the other side of Hollywood’ Alex thinks that he would be able to waltz pretty well (at least be a better beginner than the rest of the band who can’t dance) and then is mistaken very quickly

This is just me saying the boys about 100 times because I can’t say three names together apparently 😂😂

You know the drill, under the keep reading 😂

I did manage to do my school work thankfully! We won’t mention the fact that I handed in every single piece late, but I don’t really think that’s my fault, it’s theirs for not explaining how all this was going to work. Anyway! Not the point! I keep getting so excited to respond to these lmao let’s gooo!

1. Yeah exactly, he was probably more concerned with just finding something to hold all his random bits and pieces. Or I just thought right now it could be like not just a “normal box” but maybe like an old case for his bass? Like he got a nice newer one and needed something to do with the older one, and it had locks so that was handy, so he just uses it for that. Or another type of less boring box maybe idk

2. Lmao yeah I laughed so hard when I came up with it and I like I totally think he would! Like if he couldn’t find real Bobby photos (I reckon there weren’t many anyway) then he just got those and Bobby was like “Reggie that baby looks nothing like me” and Reggie just shrugs like “close enough”

3. Yeah exactly! As if he’s only just starting to make the box and is putting whatever in it, not just the things that mean something

Ok now non-box-related stuff lol

2. Yesss omg I love that. They’re just in the middle of playing through a song and Alex notices that Reggie is slowly dropping out and turning distant and he stops drumming (which makes the other two stop playing as well) but before any of them can ask Reggie what’s up he just kind of explodes. Tears all round, mostly Luke because he’s so guiltily relieved it’s not just him feeling like this

3. Totally! Alex points out all the logical stuff and Luke is just frowning the whole time like a furious puppy, and when Alex is finished he just says “right Luke?” and Luke just keeps scowling but nods at him. Doesn’t work if Reggie or Bobby try it, it does work when Julie does it, and surprisingly also works when Willie does it (because Willie is really good at reading people, as seen with Alex, so he knows how to approach any situation like that)

4. Yes exactly Luke is so caring (like in ep 7 when Alex is practically attacking his drums and he just gives a quick “hey Alex you alright?”) it’s just sometimes he lets his passion get in the way, that’s usually where music comes in! And omg that’s so perfect lmaooo I live for Alex kindly telling Luke off to get him back on track I love it

5. Yeah he knows the boys won’t take him seriously but he’s more careful around other people - the first time he says something sarcastic to Julie that he meant as a joke he worries for like a split second but then she immediately comes back with something terrible (because we all know Julie is terrible at comebacks and does not have Alex’s quick wit) and from then on they have this friendly-mean banter going back and forth between them

6. Yes exactlyyy 🥺😭 I feel like he went back to the garage once and then either he couldn’t make himself go back there ever again OR he couldn’t make himself leave for a long time and stayed there alone for days on end - either way he suffered a lot, being alone with his thoughts and his guilt. He started trying to talk to the boys - like Julie talking to her mum when she runs out of the Orpheum in ep 9. “I don’t know if you can hear me guys, but I am so sorry. I’m sorry I let you down, that I wasn’t there, that I can’t make this right. I miss you so much and... I don’t know what I’m ever going to do without you.”

8. Ohhh yes that makes way more sense actually, I like that a lot! They probably just passed Bobby as he was leaving the morgue and they were coming in to see Luke and that hurts to think about actually oh god. And yesss he so took the Rubik’s Cube and for a long time he would fiddle with it when nervous; he never managed to solve it though, not even once

10. Yes definitely!! He loves rides like the Spinning Teacups (or whatever variation they have at the theme park of that ride) and it’s Luke who will sit out on that one because the spinning makes him feel ill. He’s less happy to sit out than Reggie is because he worries he’ll miss out on the fun, but he’d rather not vomit everywhere. Now it looks like I’m going off on a theme park tangent so I’m just gonna let it happen - Alex adores rides, there’s nothing he won’t go on. Like he’s unafraid even though people would expect them to hate it but he knows they’ve been tested and they’re safe so he’s more than happy to spend all day on the biggest rides. Bobby likes water-based rides and logflumes and stuff like that - they always make sure they go on those at the end of the day because they have to do it for Bobby but they don’t want to walk around soaking wet all day. Reggie likes getting/taking photos with all the dressed up mascots wandering around, Luke is thrilled by any interactive rides (except ghost trains because we’ve already established he hates horror movies and he thinks it’s like being in a horror movie), Alex also really enjoys just wandering around the big park and seeing people have a good time, and Bobby actually likes co-ordinating their day and making sure everyone gets to do what they want to

Yes I can totally see that! Like Reggie somehow didn’t know what one of his best friends was allergic to and felt so guilty afterwards. It’s a sore spot, they can’t bring it up or he’ll just start crying and hugging Alex for hours on end. Reggie will say “I’m so sorry Alex I could have killed you that day!” and Alex just goes “dude we all died anyway”

11. With Reggie it always turns into a game of “is he lying or is this actually some totally messed up thing he really did?” The most difficult time anyone’s ever had to figure it out was when he said he’d met Queen Elizabeth - like yeah it’s unlikely but it’s definitely the sort of thing Reggie would somehow accidentally do so??? (It was a lie, but not on purpose - he thought he had met her but it was just some random old lady at a store)

13. Omg yes!!! I feel like they just get bored during the day and Luke would just go “hey Reggie, come and Dosey Doe with me” and it would turn into all four of them dancing around the studio. And yes I think out of all the unlikely things I want in season 2 full cowboy outfits is very high up on my list

14. Ahskfldo YES Nick witnessing the entire thing!! Assuming lifers still can’t see the boys next season it’ll be so funny if Nick can see them because obviously he’s actually Caleb so he has to mentally restrain himself from reacting at all to them mocking him because he can’t reveal himself. So it’s just Nick shaking with anger and Julie saying “Nick? You okay?” and how biting back something mean about the boys and growling “fine” instead. And yes 100% Reggie plays those songs on repeat and the guys pretend to hate them but they can’t deny good music when they hear it so they do join in

15. THAT IS THE CUTEST THING EVER OMG THANK YOU FOR SAYING THAT! A tiny Han Solo in the corner of every piece, no matter if it’s Star Wars or not omg I love it I will never get over this

16. Yes lmao both of them are trying to sneak around Alex and duck under his arms to get at the batter and he’s just like “GUYS I am literally using an electric whisk, are you trying to get your fingers chopped off? Don’t even answer that, you’re banished from the kitchen, goodbye. Go annoy Bobby instead”

17. That is so cute omfg and like all over his clothes and in his hair. He just looks an utter mess but he’s smiling so wide and is the cutest baby ever (he was easily the cutest baby out of Sunset Curve, Reggie as a close second)

19. Wait yes I love that! Reggie’s just like “y’know it’s a lovely day outside d’you want to go dance with me” and Alex just goes “Reg it’s tipping it down. Of course” and it takes a while but Luke and Bobby eventually join them. Lots of splashing in puddles because the four of them are literal children and think it’s funny

20. That is the greatest thing ever andkdllf and I love how that was literally my reaction after episode 1 of the show too like wow Alex really is just that lovable. That pun as well I literally laughed out loud - I’ve reblogged/added to a post a while ago where I said Reggie and Willie communicate with each other only in ghost puns so I wholeheartedly support that. And exactly! If Luke suggested throwing eggs at anyone else’s house he would be sent to his room but he mentions it’s the Mercers’ and Emily just goes “I think we’re out of eggs, I’ll need to go shopping first, come on”

21. Yes omg idk why but the image of Alex having his own key is the sweetest thing ever - maybe because it symbolises him finally having a place to call home?? And yes I totally agree, Mitch doesn’t have a lot of characteristics (I wrote a massive list before where I made a load of headcanons about him because he didn’t have enough screen time lol) and he would develop so much if he took Alex under his wing

24. Omg yes you read my mind! She so should have had a verse in Flying Solo! Like thinking about it it’s totally plausible that Julie read her the poem before and Flynn, being Flynn, wanted to add her own verse about how much she loves Julie and how she’ll always be there for her! Or she could have at least like added harmonies or something?? Idk it’s just that Flynn is in the music program too and frankly I’d like to see her do a little more music. And I haven’t seen Lemonade Mouth but I did see a commentary video about it on YouTube (I think it was I’M LEMONADE MOUTH by Danny Gonzalez if you’re interested (but that might not be the title idk)) and if I’m remembering it right then YES absolutely! And yes exactly Willie would have danced with him if Caleb hadn’t made him leave! I’m still really angry about that because just think about how much fun they would have had together!!!!

25. Omg yes! I love that, I agree that it was because of Carrie being born that made him finally go. He wanted to be strong for her now that he finally had a second (third I guess?) chance at getting family life right and he knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind for it. And omg that mental image 🥺 if the boys had lived they would have been Uncle Luke, Uncle Alex, and Uncle Reggie to Carrie (and possibly even to Julie if they stayed friends with Rose too) and they would have raised her and maybe she would have grown up to be a little nicer and she and Julie and Flynn would have all stayed friends 🥺😭

26. Yes yes yes!! He gets back into his role of managing the band and even though the boys haven’t totally forgiven him he still finds himself able to write good music again and make jewellery again and he steps foot in the garage for the first time in decades because he has his band back and he feels so much happier and freer and he’s just ecstatic to have another chance!

28. Lmfao yes those are perfect! “Bobby I don’t care how much I love your pieces if you keep leaving your yarn in random places I will scream” was written after Reggie tripped over a bit of yarn that was somehow stretched all the way across the garage like a trap and when he fell he somehow managed to get totally tangled up in in

30. Omg yeah I can totally see her and Willie bonding!! I feel like Willie is kind of like an old soul and can just get along with everyone but he takes a special liking to Victoria for whatever reason and loves finding ways to talk to her

32. Yes! Sunset Curve just have the nicest, friendliest fan base and everyone is kind and respectful and all they want to do is give them stickers and fanart! Luke absolutely adores that portrait omg so Reggie and Luke would be puppies, I feel like Bobby could be a cat, and Alex would be something like an owl or something idk but they just are all captured as whatever the perfect animal for them and it’s adorable. Yeah you’re right I think Reggie just likes talking to fans and casually mentions it one day and the fans show up to the next gig with a 1000-piece puzzle for Alex

34. In a fridge omg I love it that’s brilliant. The boys laughed at him for a solid hour before helping him get out

35. Yes to all of that I love it!!! I also thought about Ray helping out - like he can’t see Reggie, but he goes along to all these photoshoots (and mostly can’t see who they’re taking pictures of either) and helps with angles and lighting and says well done to Reggie whenever he does a good job - Ray can’t see but Reggie smiles so wide at that

37. Ahsklfskdlfl yeah Alex has no hoodies left because they’ve all gone to a different band member or Flynn or Willie

39. YES OH MY GOD. When Carrie was just starting Dirty Candi she was saying about how she needed something to make them stand out and Trevor just immediately said “matching outfits, colour co-ordinated” without even thinking about it

40. Oh absolutely - but at some point Alex has to wonder if Willie is tripping so often because he can’t dance or so that Alex is forced to catch him. Willie is very eager to learn how to do lifts and stuff like that (even though it’s been years since even Alex did them) and he thinks it’ll be romantic. It is, but not because the lift is like this perfect moment, because it’s them messing up and being silly and just enjoying each other’s company 🥺

Not gonna lie this whole post might be my favourite we’ve made so far 😂

[love-bokumono-fics]

in your opinion, which harvest moon or sos games are worth playing and which are not? Are the older titles worth it?

So I have to confess, I have played relatively few HM/SoS games to completion. "Completion" meaning: over a year in-game played, got married, had a kid, and/or completed whatever story there is to be done. I am also of the mind that if something makes me happy, regardless of how old, or objectively "bad" it might be considered, it's worth playing. It makes me happy, it's time well spent.

So if you're looking for an actual critical, and well thought out review of the games, I am not the blog to ask. There are lots of other people out there who have given more thought to the matter than I have.

For the record, the games I have played are: Back to Nature, HM 3 GBC, (More) Friends of Mineral Town, Island of Happiness, Save the Homeland, SoS1, Trio of Towns, SoS Friends of Mineral Town, and I'm working my way through Pioneers of Olive Town.

I've played a little bit of Tale of Two Towns, and A New Beginning, but I didn't get very far in either of those before getting distracted with other things. I enjoyed them while I was playing, but also neither of them captured my attention enough to stay invested long term. Make of that what you will.

I never played any of the titles that were released on Game Cube or Wii, and I basically didn't play anything between 2007 and 2014. Which some people will say is when the best games came out, and I missed out on the best titles, but I never played them so I can't offer an opinion on them. And I haven't played any of the Harvest Moon titles since the split.

So of the ~25 games that we have under the Hm/SoS umbrella, I've played 10, and 4 of them are technically the same game remade on different consoles so let's say 6. Several of the games I played as a literal child, and when I upgraded to the next technology generation, I lost my ability to play them. Others I picked up again as an adult and thoroughly enjoyed my time playing.

As for the "worth" of the game, it really depends on what you, personally, want from your game. I've already given you my definition of "worth". I realize it is not Everyone's definition of "worth". Nonny, I suspect, that since you're asking me in the first place, "it makes me happy" isn't the only reason you want/need to invest time and effort into playing a game. I cannot tell you which games you think will be "worth it."

I think each game has it's own value. It offers something that other's don't. Different characters, different farming mechanics, different stories, and I think each one, in its own way has some value to impart on the players.

My long-time favorite game has been the Mineral Town games, ever since we got BTN in 2000 I fell in love with the premise, the characters, the setting. I bought the gameboy versions when they hit stores, and they are the games I most consistently return to when I want something comfortable.

Compared to recent games though, the Mineral Town ones are Really Basic. And while I love the games for their nostalgia, I know some people will be bored to tears by them of they go from playing the more recent games to that. Even when FoMT hit the switch last sumer I had a bit of whiplash going "oh, there's so little on the calendar, and I only have how many different crops to grow? nothing grows in winter? okay." because I had just come off from playing Trio of Towns.

If you want to be busy and have 100 goals to meet, stick to the newer games. If you just wanna chill and do whatever, try some of the older games if you can.

I think, if you have the time/ability to go back and play the old games, and you want to do it, then by all means, go for it!

A lot of them are only available to play on technology that a lot of people don't have floating around their homes anymore. If they didn't get a next gen port to an easily accessible console, so unless you still have a functioning PS2 or GBA, you're not going to have the chance to play them. Yeah, emulators are out there and they work, but in my experience they're also annoying and buggy, and not an ideal way to play the games. If you have the consoles, but not the games, getting your hands on copies can be very expensive.

You are already prone to play the old games. You're gonna play them regardless of my opinions on them. You're gonna shell out the cash or set up the emulator, or dust off the Wii and pray it still works, and i hope you enjoy your time playing!

These games have been coming out over 20+ years at this point, and while many of them are just remakes/reskins/girl versions, that's still so much time covered in video game technology. And comparing the earliest games to the most recent ones is more of an exercise in frustration and futility. You're never going to find the right answer.

(I also don't know what your personal gauge for 'old' is, Nonny. Because Old for me are games that are 20 years old. Old for you might be games that are 5 years old, which was like... last week from my perspective, so...)

All this to say, I guess I'll give a brief opinion on the games I have played, and y'all can make your decisions as you please from there.

Back to Nature/Mineral Town Games: My OG game. Always holds a dear spot in my heart for nostalgia. Love the town, love the characters, love the music, can do no wrong, a very enjoyable, if basic, farming game. Easy to play for a bit, set down for a while, and pick up and play again without feeling like you've forgotten you were in the middle of something important.

HM GBC 3: Pretty sure I was 10 last time I played it, so grain of salt. I found it more boring than the MT games, the town and maps were smaller, none of the characters had portraits, I didn't really get all of the details to make the farm work. I'm sure if I went back now as an adult I would have a better time, but I have no desire to emulate it. If you want to emulate it, go for it, but be warned that if you play as a girl, the game ends after you get married. Doesn't do that if you play as a boy so...

Save the Homeland: I kept going back to replay this game for years. I thought the premise was fun, and I always wanted to try and get all of the endings, but never did. I would buy it again in a heartbeat if it got remastered. Different from other games tho, in that you only get one year to play and get an ending, and once you do, the game restarts you at Spring 1 and nobody knows who you are again. You get to keep your animals and house upgrades, but there's no dating and marriage.

Island of Happiness: I love the setting and the characters, but god FUCK that weather system. Can't get shit to grow unless you obsessively track if it rains and how sunny it is and it completely ruined the game for me. I tried playing it again a couple years back and couldn't be bothered to keep tracking stuff. I never once unlocked all of the crops or livestock on any of my playthroughs. Did manage to play long enough to get married once.

SoS1: The game that convinced me to go back to buying new stuff after IoH kind of put me off new HM games for the better part of a decade (I had FoMT to replay it was fine). Liked it well enough, thought some of the characters were a bit bland, but still enjoyable enough to get married and have a kid. Unlocking all the vendors is a bitch though, and I still haven't gotten them all. A fine game, but if you're only going to play One 3DS game, I wouldn't suggest this one.

Trio of Towns: This one ties with FoMT as my favorite game! I love everything about it. The Characters, the setting and premise, the music, the depth of events. There's so much to do, there's never a boring day, but that can also feel overwhelming if you're the kind if person who tries to do everything at once. Not as easy to pick up and put down as some of the more basic games, but it's very replayable in my book and I keep coming back to it.

Pioneers of Olive Town: It's a middling game for me. Like SoS1, it's fine, but unlike SoS1, there's very little to do in the game. I completed the "main story" in less than a year without putting in much effort to complete things in a timely manner. The characters and the game had So Much Potential, particularly after 3oT, and all of it fell flat in my expectations. Plus some of the technical issues we all experienced at launch. Now, I'm still playing it, I don't hate the game, and the updates have made things better. But with the story done and all of the characters feeling a bit Flat, I'm biding my time between DLC updates to see if I want to marry any of the special candidates instead of the base game characters. I'll probably keep playing long enough to get married and probably unlock everything on the farm, but beyond that I'm not super invested.

My final verdict is, if you have a 3DS, get Trio of Towns, if you only have a Switch, get Friends of Mineral Town. If you want to put forth the time and effort into acquiring the old games, or emulating them, by all means go for it.

[fiveisnumber1]

Hoo boy this is gonna be a long one so I apologize in advance. I'll try to keep it short tho. So you recommended me these songs and here's my view on them. I decided to mention them by name in case someone else wanted to listen too:

Last Dance - Diplomacy

This song is pretty much word for word Five's thoughts in the apocalypse. He's "looking for a way out the door" or how to *create* a door in his case. He's quite literally haunted by reader's ghost who "won't let him be" cuz he imagines her with him all the time. It's her vision that nags him to keep going when he's ready to give up so he can "find my way back to (reader)"

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

I feel this song is very sad, speaking of Five's regret of Time Traveling. He'd literally wish he could go back in time to when he first met reader and warn his younger self to not be an idiot or else he'd lose reader or at the very least, not "ride along with (her)" to make sure she doesn't get stranded in time too. "I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you" is pretty self explanatory. He had reader, he lost her and wishes he could change things.

Lately III - COIN

The house is too quiet. So I sleep in my car. I'm losing my magic. I hear your voice in my head, I think that I'm working too hard. But who, who am I-I kidding? I want you right back in my arms.

I can see these lyrics being from both reader's and Five's perspective but more Five cuz everything around him is quiet. He literally "lost his magic" as in his ability to time travel til he could figure out the equation. He can hear the reader's voice in his head both encouraging him but also telling him to rest when he works himself too hard but obviously it's more important for him him to get back to her so she's in his harms again.

Thirteen - Armors

This made me think of a "what if" from readers perspective or just the beginning of their friendship when Five defied his father to meet and befriend her. It could work in reverse too since readers parents also wanted to have her avoid the Hargreeves but I guess I thought of Five more cuz he had more to lose from disobeying Reggie and befriending reader. The lyrics of "going out on Friday/tickets for the dance" and getting "your dad off my back" and becoming an "outlaw for my love" makes me very much think of Reader not putting up with Reggie's bullshit and encouraging Five to break free of him even more.

Lover of Mine - 5SOS

This one was possibly my favorite. The chorus was everything.

"When I take a look at my life And all of my crimes You're the only thing that I think I got I right I'll never give you away 'Cause I've already made Already made that mistake".

It's so clearly Five talking about the Reader after be comes back. Maybe his residual fears of doing something wrong and losing her. She's the only thing he did right after his time at the commission killing so many people, his self loathing makes him feel like coming back to save her and his family is the only worthwhile thing he's ever done. The first part of the chorus as well, God knows we've come up with so many dancing headcanons for Five and reader so I didn't repeat that. And the verses, I feel could be more of Five blaming himself for all the regrets reader has. I could see the second verse as reader though cuz she knows what Five has been through "the world fall from his eyes" so she literally wants to "kiss the regrets goodbye" so they can be at peace instead of him constantly blaming himself for what happened.

I also am going to try my best not to analyze every single song in detail (although I do have a lot of opinions) so let's jump in my (hopefully) brief reply. This is where the fun begins.

Last Dance - Diplomacy

We were dancing through the city, And you were looking pretty, you held me close. 

Even through the white lies we both talked. Oh-oh, We were running far away, oh-oh, From those words we can't say

So this first line is Five remembering the night that he danced with the reader. Straightforward. The second line though is about both the reader and Five and how they hid their feelings from each other. They continued to talk and be friends even though they were both lying to themselves and each other about the strength of their feelings. They were running away from opening up and expressing how they really felt (the words they cannot say)

Let me took another moment. Painted such a foot prints in the snow. But we've reached another road short. Going through emotions we both know.

I like to think that the footprints in the snow are the ones that they left together before Five left and jumped into the apocalypse. It was the last moment they were together. Also, both Five and the reader are constantly going through the same emotions of hurt, loneliness, regret, love. They both know those feelings.

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

I've been searching for a trail to follow again, Take me back to the night we met.

This line can be about the reader and Five. Both of them have been dropped into unknown situations. They’re both now lost in life and are searching for a sense of normalcy like they had when they were with each other, but they still haven't found that path or trail to follow since they separated.

And then I can tell myself, What the hell I'm supposed to do. And then I can tell myself, Not to ride along with you.

I think for this line from the reader's perspective is that now that she’s in this whole new time, a whole new reality, and she doesn’t know what to do. She can’t tell herself how to change things or move forward because she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do to accomplish that. And I think for the line “not to ride along with you” it’s the opposite of Five. Instead of Five wanting to not have brought her through time, it’s the reader wishing she held on and went along with him.

I had all and then most of you, Some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Haunted by the ghost of you. Oh, take me back to the night we met.

Like you said self-explanatory but both Five and the reader want to go back to the simpler times when they had each other.

When the night was full of terrors, And your eyes were filled with tears. When you had not touched me yet, Oh, take me back to the night we met.

All I picture is the scenes I wrote where they’re both just crying over finally coming to the realization that they had truly lost the other. The reader on her knees below the portrait of Five above the fireplace and Five holding the now deceased in his arms. Both of them shedding tears at the terror of the situation and how they wished they could go back to when they met and start over so this would never have happened.

Lately III - COIN

Be honest with me. Do you, do you, do you wanna be honest with me right now? I swear to God it meant nothing.

I can see this as Five asking himself why he did what he did. Why did he not listen? Why did he jump through time? Looking back wanting to jump through time and defying Reginald really meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.

The house is too quiet

This line can also be applied to the reader because she’s staying in the empty academy house. There was once the sound of all the academy kids but now there’s nothing.

Thirteen - Armors

I don’t have any specific lines but I agree that overall this is definitely the reader trying to convince Five to break free of Reginald’s grasp and live life with her. She’s not going to force him hence the line “If it's no, then I can go. I won't make you.” but she wants him to be able to do normal things with her like go to a school dance without it being a problem.