#not like it makes a practical difference considering i only upload twice a year at best

[sorikkung]

people interacting w wgoin in my notes... this would be a rly bad time to say all my writing will probably be on hiatus for the indefinite future huh

[quokkacore]

mojave, mo’problems (m)

summary: throughout your life, you’d been told that a life of crime was the loneliest of all. now, however, your boyfriends, johnny and jaehyun, a pair of bank robbers, and you, their getaway driver, beg to differ.

pairing: seo johnny x jeong jaehyun x fem reader

genre: SMUT, fluff, minor angst, found family, criminals!au

warnings: poly relationship, language, guns, mentions of cops (acab!!!), armed robbery, mentioned physical, mental and emotional abuse, reader, johnny and jaehyun are from broken homes, mentioned alcohol abuse, overuse of pet names :’), unprotected sex (dont be silly wrap ur willy!!), JAEHYUN HAS NIPPLE PIERCINGS, minor daddy kink? its used like,, once, dirty talk, threesome, boyxboy, soft dom johnny switch jaehyun, sub reader, hair pulling, slight overstimulation, orgasm denial, spitroasting, praise kink, size kink, mentions of double penetration, blowjobs, cunnilingus, general filth

song recs: stevie nicks & don henley - leather & lace ♡ nct 127 - fly away with me ♡ lana del rey - national anthem ♡ triple h - retro future

word count: 9.4k

a/n: this was originally uploaded to my old writing blog on july 22nd, 2020. there were a few things in the original a/n that i wanted to keep. one, due to how multicultural los angeles is, i imagine the reader being latina or bipoc, but i make no mention of skin color!! two, i blame the w korea johnjae photoshoot for this. the room they were shooting in and the hawaiian shirts totally gave me desert motel vibes. and finally, pls stay safe, wash ur hands, and pls keep urself informed on current issues with resources like this carrd. <3

Burbank, Los Angeles, California, 12:22 PM

“You both remember the plan, right?"

"Yeah, John.”

“Oh my god, Johnny, we went over the plan seven times last night and twice on the way here. We know what to do.”

Johnny huffed, staring pointedly at you before rolling his eyes.

“…Fine. We’ll take less than fifteen minutes, okay? You know what to do, smart girl."

You looked at Johnny, who was sitting shotgun next to you, as his hand came up to touch the back of your head, gaze warm.

"Be careful,” You said, eyes moving to the rearview mirror, where you met Jaehyun’s eyes, “Both of you.”

Jaehyun nodded, his hand coming up to cover Johnny’s. “We will be. You be careful too, baby.”

You mirrored his action, nodding, and watched as they got out of the car to walk one block down to the bank. You watched them until they disappeared from sight, drumming your fingers on the steering wheel to calm your nerves. You were grateful Johnny had chosen this quiet, relatively empty street to wait on, avoiding calling attention to yourself.

Even after two years of doing this, it still made you nervous to wait for their signal to drive up to the front with your face mask on. One of the two burner phones you’d acquired a week prior was burning a hole in your pocket, the other tucked safely into Jaehyun’s.

You let out a deep breath, letting your eyes close for a moment, briefly thinking back to the first time you’d met them. You were nineteen, Jaehyun was twenty-one, and Johnny twenty-three.

Downtown, Los Angeles, California 3:48 AM

Two years ago, you had been working a shitty job at an old 50s style diner in the more dangerous side of LA to scrounge up enough money to run away from a less-than-ideal home life. The only noise of the diner, coming from the old jukebox in the corner crooning out some old Stevie Nicks song, was broken up by two tall, handsome men entering and sitting at a booth from across each other. You were immediately wary of them. They were obviously trying not to draw attention to themselves, but it was a bit difficult with their statures and hunched backs, leaning close to each other and whispering in rushed tones.

Still, after gathering your pen and notepad, and grabbing a pair of menus, you approached the table, doing your best to put on a customer service smile despite your feet aching and head pounding from your exhaustion.

“Welcome to Ernie’s. Can I get you boys anything?” You asked quietly, setting down the menus on the table. The two men exchanged glances, before the taller one spoke.

“For now, two black coffees would be great—”

“Actually, can I get a burger with some fries?”

Your eyes darted to the shorter one, who was sporting a small, friendly smile as he fiddled with the menu.

You nodded, pulling out the notepad to write down the order. “Do you still want both coffees, or…?”

“Uhh, sure. Why not, we could use the caffeine.” He chuckled softly, and your smile got bigger at the pleasant noise. Even through the early morning hour daze, you could pick up on his charm from miles away.

“Sure thing, I can bring you guys the coffee right now, but your burger and fries might take a little bit. Anything else I can get you?”

The taller man on your left gazed up at you with wide brown eyes rimmed with dark circles underneath, totally devoid of any emotion. “We’re good, thanks.”

As you approached the kitchen window to hand the cook the order, you were able to pick up on a few not so subtle murmurs.

“Why are you in such a good mood, Jaehyun? It’s three in the morning, Yuta bailed on us and the shipment is coming in four days and we don’t even have half of a plan.”

Pouring the coffee as quietly as you could, you strained your ears to listen. Maybe if you hadn’t been so exhausted, you wouldn’t have eavesdropped, but you’d been working since 10 PM. Your head hurt, your feet ached, and you were in the mood for some entertainment, and now your curiosity had been piqued.

“Babe, calm down. I told you I have another guy who could work as our getaway driver—”

“I wouldn’t get into another car with Yangyang behind the wheel if I were covered in full fucking body armor. And I’m sure as hell not letting him be our getaway driver!” As you set the old white mugs on your serving tray, your breath hitched at his agitated whisper.

Getaway driver?

“We’re robbing a bank for Christ’s sake, Jae, not playing bumper cars.”

As you turned to face the two from behind the counter, they immediately tensed. You pretended not to have heard anything, flashing them an innocent smile as you cautiously set the mugs down on the table.

“You’re lucky I made a new pot a half hour ago! Not too hot, but not super cold either.”

The man on the right, who you now knew was named Jaehyun, had tried his best to put on his first smile, but it wasn’t working too well. It looked slightly too forced, too tight-lipped to be believable. “Thank you…” He said through somewhat gritted teeth, briefly glancing at your nametag, “…Y/N.”

“You’re very welcome,” You replied, tempted to know what would happen if you added on his name since you’d only heard it while eavesdropping, but quickly decided against it.

“If you need anything else, don’t be afraid to let me know.”

You quickly headed back to the counter, pretending to mind your business as you wiped down the counter. They murmured to each other about needing a fast driver, and the taller, stricter man, who you soon learned was named Johnny, was grumbling about needing someone able to drive as fast as this Yuta guy or even faster.

You remained silent, but all too pensive over the tempting ideas popping into your head upon hearing about their predicament.

All too soon, Jaehyun’s food was ready, and you brought it over, an innocent smile plastered once more over your face as you set it down, but said nothing when you straightened yourself. Unmoving, you met Jaehyun’s eyes. His dark eyes looked slightly alarmed, gaze darting between yours and Johnny’s.

“You know,” You hummed, after taking a deep breath, “For two people planning a crime, you’re both incredibly stupid. You do realize I heard basically everything, right?”

The two men stiffened again, momentarily panicking as they locked eyes, but that quickly melted into confusion when you giggled at their reactions.

“That being said, you’re also both incredibly lucky that Doug, the cook, is a ‘Nam veteran who can’t hear out of his left ear, and that I am a very fast driver who is in desperate need of some good cash.”

Johnny’s eyes were unreadable. “You. A waitress. A fast driver.” His teeth were gritted, and his tone agitated.

“I hate to toot my own horn,” You sighed sarcastically, unsure where your sudden confidence was coming from, “But I know what I’m talking about. I grew up around cars. Both of my parents are mechanics. I practically grew up in their garage. I have some older cousins who drag race on the weekends and taught me how to. I drove my first car when I was like, twelve.”

“What if we say no?” Jaehyun asked, eyes now void of any friendliness, “What then?”

You held up your phone, which had been hiding in your apron pocket, 911 already dialed. You saw Johnny swallow when he saw the numbers, Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. You felt a surge of power rush to your head, having caught the scarier of the two men now looking like a deer in headlights.

“All I need to do is call. I’m sure the cops would be thrilled to take a look at all the weapons you say you have in your trunk. I want in. You either do this with me or not at all, assholes.”

The two stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. They seemed to be having an entire conversation with just their eyes. You tried your best to hide the shaking in your knees and the tremble in your fingers, to ignore the fact that this could easily backfire. If they were considering robbing a bank, they were automatically dangerous. One of them could easily have a gun with them here, and they could very easily pull it out and use it to hurt you or Doug.

Finally, Johnny sighed. He didn’t look very happy, but there was a glint in Jaehyun’s eyes that gave you catharsis.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Johnny said in a cold voice, “Let’s talk business.”

Everything had spiraled from there. You took them for a drive around the city to show them just how fast you could be, they opened themselves up to you being their third musketeer. The first time you robbed a bank, they were there to comfort you after you panicked at the idea of living on the run.

Eventually, you found out about their relationship as lovers, and they found out why you were so willing to drop everything and run away with two strangers, among other things. The story of how you drove your first car at twelve because your alcoholic parents were too wasted to drive to the grocery store, how you were cautious to hide the scars of cigarette burns along your inner forearm. After that, they opened up to you as well.

Why Jaehyun ran away from a promising life studying pre-med at an Ivy League University where expectations were eternally piled onto his shoulders, like Atlas holding up the sky. Why Johnny left suburban Chicago behind for LA at sixteen, tired of the monotony of a normal life where everything in his life had to look perfect, everywhere except behind the curtains of his house because his parents couldn’t stand him being attracted to both women and men, since it wasn’t befitting of the perfect family they so desired to be.

Somewhere along the lines, your strange business relationship of robbing banks and splitting the money equally three ways blossomed into something just as strange, but even better, something you’d never expected. You found yourself falling in love with the both of them, growing into the loving family you’d always wanted but of which you’d always been deprived. They both became fiercely protective of you, and after months of them calling you love, baby, sweetheart, princess, they finally asked you to become a permanent part of their relationship, and you accepted.

You expected so many things to happen in your life, but never to fall in love like this. And it was better than anything you could have asked for. They kept you safe and reminded you that you were worthy of love, something you hadn’t felt growing up.

The sudden vibrating of the burner in your pocket snapped you out of your reverie, and you quickly pulled on the black ski mask over your face before you started the car, not hesitating to speed towards the bank. You could hear police cars in the distance, and you took a deep breath as you rolled up to the front door, where the boys were currently exiting, bags full and guns out.

Your chest swelled with a strange sense of pride as they bolted into the car, shouting at you to drive.

Outrunning the police was a challenge, as always, but you were always faster, despite the fact that the boys had to keep telling you to wiggle your fingers since they were so stiff on the wheel and the last thing you needed was for your hands to cramp up now. Sure, you damaged the car a bit, but you could care less. This wasn’t actually your car. This was the car you’d hotwired almost a week ago, the real getaway car was hiding in a rather empty parking building, which you managed to enter and exit without much difficulty, now riding in a blue station wagon rather than the red Pontiac you’d driven to the bank. You all pulled off your masks, Jaehyun laying down to hide himself from the view of the window behind you.

Soon enough, you were out of Los Angeles, driving east towards the state line, and Jaehyun settled into the back seat. You drove for hours, the mood in the car finally having settled into an excited one a few minutes after leaving LA.

“How much did you guys manage to pull out of them?” You asked with a grin, and Johnny and Jaehyun shared a look, something that they always did.

“Baby girl, we managed to get 900,000 dollars from ‘em, we got ‘em good.” God, if you weren’t driving, you would have kissed Johnny then and there. Instead, you shrieked, “Nine hundred thousand!? That’s the biggest amount we’ve pulled yet!”

Jaehyun leaned forward, resting his chin on the front seat as Johnny looked back at him, pressing a soft kiss to the younger’s lips. “We’re celebrating big time, tonight,” Johnny declared once he pulled away from Jaehyun’s lips, much to Jaehyun’s dismay.

“How much longer till we get there?” Jaehyun asked, deep voice rumbling with satisfaction, mostly undeterred from Johnny’s teasing.

You glanced at the clock built into the dashboard, green lights blinking 4:18 PM. “I could get us there in two hours, but I don’t wanna draw attention by speeding. I’d much rather get to the motel at around eight.”

“Take your time, baby girl,” Jaehyun told you, leaning over even further to press a warm kiss to your temple, and your fingers stiffened on the wheel once more, “Whatever you feel works best.”

“Not too long, though,” Johnny added, “I don’t wanna piss myself before we get there.”

Both you and Jaehyun processed what he said, and immediately burst out laughing afterwards.

Yeah, these were the idiots you fell in love with.

The desert seemed endless, nothing in sight for miles but arid dirt and plants along the road. Somewhere along the road, as the sun began to set in the distance, Jaehyun pulled out his real phone from one of his suitcases in the back of the car, playing soft rock for the three of you to listen to as day turned to night, and the lampposts on the side of the road turned on.

There were far and few towns in between the vast expanse of desert, and because of that the stars shone bright in the limitless sky. When you saw the first flash of the moon up above, a song Jaehyun had put on had just ended, and a familiar Stevie Nicks song started playing afterwards. You smiled to yourself, humming along to the soft, tinkling melody.

Lovers forever, face to face                         

My city, your mountains

Stay with me, stay

I need you to love me

I need you today

Give to me, your leather

Take from me, my lace…

Eventually, after an eternity, you passed the sign you’d been so looking forward to seeing.

Welcome to Verona, Nevada

Population: 1,239

The motel wasn’t that hard to find, as it was just off of the highway. Johnny signed in in under 10 minutes, and you settled into the room on the second floor as quickly as you were allowed. The room smelled like mothballs and the carpet looked like it had once been a deep forest green, but was now a dark brown.

Yes, it was disgusting, but this was necessary to lay low for a while. Posing as three friends on a road trip crashing in a dingy motel for the night was generally the ploy. Next morning you would be out on the road again, driving further away from LA, then after a few days, you would finally return back to your shared apartment.

The three of you carried in the suitcases where the bags had been hidden in, and while you were stretching your legs and Jaehyun was showering, Johnny ordered three large pizzas using the phone on the nightstand.  

You lay down on the large, lumpy mattress a few minutes later, grabbing the remote and turning on the small, ancient TV across the room. The bed was lower than what the average bed was for some reason, and you suspected that the frame had broken at some point, and that the motel either didn’t know or didn’t care.

Regardless of how the mattress felt, your eyes started to droop despite flicking through the channels. You could feel your mind start to relax as you let go of your driver mindset, releasing pent up tension and alertness. Johnny turned to face the TV, sparing you a glance with his eyebrows raised.

“The news?”

“You know it, big boy."

He stalked over to where you were and plopped himself down to sit next to you, not hesitating to pull you into his lap. You smiled as he wrapped his hands around your waist, large hands spanning across your skin easily. The TV, now stuck on a channel showing some melodramatic Mexican telenovela, seemed to fade into the background.

"You did so well, today, baby,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “We all did really good.”

You smiled softly at his gentleness, hands meeting his on your waist, before turning your head enough to meet his gaze, nose brushing against his. His big, brown eyes were hooded, whether from tiredness or admiration of your features, you weren’t sure, but you gave it no further thought once he pressed his lips to yours.

His lips were slightly chapped, and you made a mental note to nag him later to drink more water. One of his hands came to brush some hair out of your face, and you became hyper-aware of each of his movements.

“Hmm, Johnny…"

"Shh, baby girl, let me kiss you a little bit more.”

When his lips came back to yours, his movements became more aggressive, pushing his tongue into your mouth as his grip on your waist tightened. Your breath hitched as you sucked on his tongue, whining softly against his mouth.

“Fuck,” you heard Jaehyun groan from the other side of the room, and Johnny pulled away before you could protest. Your eyes cracked open, hooded eyes finding Jaehyun bathed in warm light from the bathroom. His hair was still kind of damp and he hadn’t bothered buttoning his shirt up.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Johnny greeted, and you bit your lip at the teasing lilt in his tone, “Care to join us?"

"I was gonna wait until after dinner,” Jaehyun said, setting his towel on one of the chairs in the room, “But if you insist…”

“Jae,” You called, voice soft, “Come here, pretty boy.”

Jaehyun smiled as he approached you, standing right in front of you and Johnny, who had now started pressing kisses against your neck. “You want a kiss, princess?”

You nodded as best you could with Johnny sucking on your neck, pouting up at Jaehyun, who in return leaned down and grasped your face before pulling you into a kiss. He tasted like the watermelon bubblegum he always carried around in his pocket. One of your hands came up to comb through his wet, brown hair, nails scratching against his scalp, and he groaned quietly against your lips.

“You’re both so hot,” Johnny murmured against your ear, and you whined at his deep voice, both you and Jaehyun pulling away to look at him, the two of you evidently affected by what he was saying.

To say Johnny was the leader of your relationship was a bit of an understatement. Johnny was the mastermind behind most of your heists, and commanded a presence over both you and Jaehyun, wherever you were. Where Johnny went, you and Jaehyun followed with few objections, trailing behind him like ducklings. Johnny, in return, accepted his more dominant role easily, and did his best to take care of you both.

Sometimes, you wondered if your upbringings influenced the dynamics of your relationship. Maybe Johnny was  eager to dominate the both of you because he was raised under strict, controlling parents dictating his every move and treating him as their little puppet. Jaehyun submitting to Johnny, but not to you, out of the need to please as a kid who had been emotionally neglected but forced to live up to his family’s expectations. And you, submitting to both of them because you were forced to take care of yourself and your parents from a young age when it should have been the other way around.

The moment was broken by a knock at the door, the three of you immediately tensing up. “It’s just the pizza guy,” Jaehyun whispered in reassurance, taking a deep breath, but it didn’t do much to calm your nerves.

“Jae,” Johnny said, nodding toward him, looking alert, “Look through the peephole first. Wait for me.”

Jaehyun nodded, standing slowly. You were taking deep breaths in an attempt to keep yourself calm, but the possibilities of it being anyone but the pizza guy were causing your heart to beat into overdrive. LA police. Nevada police. State troopers. The FBI. Those weird Hungarian guys Jaehyun pissed off a few months ago. Suddenly it was all of them, waiting to burst into the room and take your family away from you.  

Johnny set you down on the bed, flashing you a soft look before pulling the back of his button up to reveal a gun hiding in the waistband of his pants, putting a hand on the grip, just in case. You stood, watching as Jaehyun slowly approached the door to look through the peephole, his eyes dark and eyebrows furrowed, heart pounding in your chest. He shut one eye, looking through the small hole in the door, before allowing his shoulders to slump a moment later, and giving you both a thumbs up.

Coast clear.

You sighed in relief, sitting back down on the bed as Jaehyun stepped away from the door. Johnny handed Jaehyun his gun, pulling out his wallet from the pocket of his pants, and swung open the door, beginning a casual discussion with the delivery man as he pulled some money out of his wallet, before grabbing the pizzas and telling the guy to keep the change.

He closed the door, waiting a few seconds before sighing in relief as well and slumping against it.

“Jesus fuck, that’s one way to kill a boner,” He muttered, looking up as Jaehyun set down the gun on the nightstand.

“Y/N, you should have seen your face,” The younger man said while he stifled a laugh, coming closer to wrap his arms around you, and you huffed.

“Fuck off,” You told him, rejecting his embrace, and pouted, “I was genuinely about to piss myself.”

Jaehyun laughed again, and you retaliated by punching him in the arm, but not too hard, but he still grabbed your hand and pulled you towards Johnny, who had since set the pizzas down on the desk and locked the door again. He opened a box and grabbed a slice, and your spat with Jaehyun was forgotten, especially after having been on the road for over eight hours without stopping to eat.

Jaehyun grabbed another slice, eagerly taking a large bite before his eyes turned to the TV, which was still playing the Mexican telenovela. He raised an eyebrow after a few moments.

“Why are we watching Pasión de Gavilanes?” He asked, reading the name of the show as it cut to a commercial break.

“I was looking for the news,” You replied, giving Johnny a sideways glance, “But someone had other ideas.”

Johnny shrugged, already on his second slice of pizza. “You didn’t seem to mind,” He said after swallowing his food, eyes alight with mischief. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t deny him, and watched as he walked back to the bed, where the remote lay abandoned. He began switching through the channels until he finally stumbled upon the nine o’clock news report on a random channel, and the three of you quietly made your way towards the bed, all three of you waiting for the exact same thing.

And when it came, it was amazing. You were the main story, the breaking news of the armed robbery that had occurred in one of the safest parts of the city.

The three of you huddled together, occasionally getting up to pick up more slices of pizza, all relishing in having your egos stroked as the reporters all went over the details of the heist, how, when the police searched the getaway car (which had been mysteriously abandoned), no trace of any of the thieves were found, that any and all fingerprints didn’t match with any already registered in the LAPD’s database.

“The FBI has already involved itself in the investigation, believing this is the work of the same perpetrators as the Municipal Bank of Santa Monica six months ago, where two assailants…” The female reporter faded into the background, and you nodded to yourself, finishing your pizza happily. You peeked over at Jaehyun, who had a smug look on his face, satisfaction evident. You looked back to the TV as the scene changed, ignoring Johnny as he shifted next to you.

“We have no way  to identify the perpetrators,” A representative for the FBI explained, “All we know is that the suspects are two males, both taller than six feet, and a female of unknown stature. All are believed to be between early and mid 20s.”

You zoned out for the rest of the report, content at both the fullness in your stomach and the lack of evidence the police had against you, before feeling Johnny shift next to you again. You furrowed your eyebrows, turning your head to look at him, only to raise your eyebrows as you realized what was going on.

Your eyes looked down to Johnny’s hand, which had drifted to between Jaehyun’s legs. Jaehyun was slumped against Johnny’s side, panting quietly as Johnny’s hand groped him roughly. Johnny’s gaze met yours, dark eyes twinkling.

“And to think he told us off for not being able to wait,” He murmured, and Jaehyun hummed at the deep roll of his voice. “Come on, princess. Help me make him feel good.”

You nodded, knowing better than to disobey Johnny when he got like this. You lowered yourself to your knees, crawling towards Jaehyun. Johnny moved again, this time sitting behind Jaehyun so he could begin to unbutton Jaehyun’s shirt. You placed yourself in between Jaehyun’s legs, hands coming up to touch the tent in his white shorts.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” You sighed, reaching to unzip his pants. Jaehyun looked down at you, face flushed, but eyes still burning with lust. “That desperate, baby?”

“For you two, always,” You answered quietly, pulling his pants down as he wiggled his hips. Johnny slid the button up down the younger man’s arms, leaving Jaehyun in black boxers. You glanced at Johnny, who was kissing the back of Jaehyun’s neck, big hands sliding up and down Jaehyun’s toned torso, purposely avoiding the metal studs embedded in Jaehyun’s nipples, something you knew Jaehyun loved for Johnny to play with. You bit your lip, not missing  the fact that Johnny was rocking his hips steadily against Jaehyun’s.

You eyed the bulge in Jaehyun’s boxers hungrily, feeling your core heat up at the thought of what was to come, before pulling down the garment and freeing Jaehyun’s dick. He hummed at the feeling, and you didn’t hesitate to wrap a hand around it.

Jaehyun’s head fell back, breath hitching as you pressed a kiss to his tip, and Johnny chose that moment to tug on the piercings. “Fuck, John,” He muttered, eyes squeezing shut.

“Don’t be mean, pretty boy,” Johnny cooed, fingers flicking the nubs incessantly, “Y/N’s helping you out too, don’t ignore her.”

“Y-Y/N—Shit, baby, nngh…”

You smiled at his whine, before taking his tip into your mouth, Jaehyun’s hips instinctually moving to thrust into your mouth. Your hand moved to stroke what you couldn’t fit into your mouth, listening to Johnny whisper filth into Jaehyun’s ear, not letting up his fingers, despite Jaehyun’s squirming.

His pretty face was flushed, letting out soft moans as Johnny tugged on the metal and pressed open mouthed kisses against his neck. You closed your eyes, focusing on hollowing your cheeks and making him feel good. He hissed when he hit the back of your throat, and your eyes opened as you forced yourself not to gag. Drool was pooling in your mouth, threatening to spill down your chin.

“She’s so pretty like this, John…” Jaehyun’s voice sounded breathless as his hands wound into your hair, keeping it out of your face. Your eyes screwed shut, whining quietly at his praise.

"She’s fucking gorgeous when she’s sucking cock,” Johnny growled against Jaehyun’s neck, voice guttural and dangerous, “And she loves it. Isn’t that right, princess?”

Jaehyun’s hand tightened against your scalp, trying to pull you off of his cock. “Give him an answer, baby girl.”

You pulled away from him, hand still gripping his shaft, still pumping slowly. You gasped for air, and the spit that had been gathering in your mouth spilled onto your chin, and they both groaned in unison at the sight. “I love it, John,” You murmured, meeting his dark stare. “Baby, you’re both so big, you both stretch me out so good.”

Jaehyun groaned again, and Johnny hummed, pressing a kiss to Jaehyun’s temple before he stood from the bed. He pulled you up on top of the bed with them, pulling you into his lap. You wrapped your legs around his waist, smiling to yourself as you felt something hard poking at your core. “Jae,” Johnny hummed, and Jaehyun shuffled over to meet you both.

“Spit in her mouth,” Johnny ordered quietly, and you whimpered in delight. Jaehyun looked at you with mischief in his eyes, before grabbing your chin. Your mouth fell open without need for an order, and he pressed his nose against yours. Then he opened his mouth, and you moaned when his spit fell onto your tongue.

“Don’t swallow yet, princess.” Johnny’s voice was deep, dark, and you knew he was thoroughly enjoying watching the both of you. You kept your mouth open, as one of his hands came to hold the back of your neck, drawing him closer to you. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, before opening his mouth and spitting in yours as well.

His eyes never left yours the entire time, nearly black with desire. His face was flushed, and the hand on your neck was hot.

“Swallow,” He growled against your mouth, and you couldn’t bring yourself to disobey. When you opened your mouth to show him how good you were being, he groaned and pressed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Your hands busied themselves unbuttoning his shirt, while his hands groped your ass, forcing you to grind against him. You moaned his name, and his tongue found itself into your mouth, taking the lead of the wet, messy kiss.

Your mind was quickly hazing up at the feeling of Johnny’s clothed cock rubbing against you through your denim shorts, but you still picked up on the sounds of skin against skin and panting coming from your left. You pulled away from Johnny’s lips to look towards Jaehyun. Johnny took this chance to tug your shirt off, leaving you in a plain purple bra. Your breath caught in your throat when your eyes fell to Jaehyun’s hands, Johnny’s lips trailing down to the skin of your collarbones.

Jaehyun had one hand stroking himself at a steady pace, the other wrapped around the base of his cock, as if he were trying to stave off an incoming orgasm. He was watching the both of you with eyes darker than the Mojave desert in the middle of the night.

“Jae,” You whined, breathless against Johnny’s frame, “C’mere and kiss me, baby.”

“Yeah?” Jae answered, just as breathless as you, quirking an eyebrow up, “You want me, needy baby?”

You nodded in response, one hand reaching out to him. He leaned forward again, and your eyes fluttered shut as his lips landed against yours.

Jaehyun’s kisses were so different from Johnny’s. Jaehyun was gentler, but he didn’t need to tease you by letting you dominate the kiss and then taking over. No, Jaehyun dominated the kiss from the beginning, plump lips sliding against yours, hands leaving his cock to caress your sides, brushing over Johnny’s hands very briefly. Then, they moved to your back, unclipping your bra and discarding it somewhere on the bed.

He pulled away from your lips, and Johnny, who had been sucking a purple mark into your shoulder, did the same. You noted that all of your chests were heaving. Johnny’s hands were still moving your hips against his, and the pleasure left your mind reeling.

“You close, princess?” Jaehyun asked, and you shook your head. “N-not yet, but… s-soon.”

“Look at how pretty our baby girl is, Jaehyun,” Johnny murmured,  dark eyes glittering in adoration as he watched your hips speed up of their own accord, rutting against him like a mindless animal. Jaehyun hummed in agreement, leaning his head against Johnny’s shoulder. Your head tipped back, unable to handle both of them looking at you, looking through you, as you fell apart on Johnny’s lap.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N. So good for us, baby girl.”

By now, the fabric of your shorts and your panties against your core were starting to feel uncomfortable, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were so lost in hazy pleasure, head swimming with nothing but thoughts of your two lovers. Your hands linked around Johnny’s neck, trying to find something to tether yourself to the mortal world, because you were certain that if you didn’t, you would float off into space, never to be seen again.

“Ah, f-fuck,” You said, “L-love you both so much…”

Jaehyun’s hand caressed your neck, before coming to caress your cheek. He moved your head as well, forcing you to meet his eyes. His eyes were warm, clouded with desire. Your gaze flickered between his face and Johnny’s, and you whined again. They were watching you wordlessly, in a way that made you feel safe, loved, needed, and even though it’d been about a year and a half since they started looking at you like that, it never failed to make your head spin in love and arousal.  

Johnny let loose a lazy smile at your words, hips bucking against your own. “We love you too, princess. You’re so sweet, do you wanna come soon?”

You nodded desperately, opening your mouth to answer but moaning instead when Johnny pressed you down even more against his cock. They both laughed at your noise, and you just had to laugh along with them.

The laughter died down a few moments later, and you felt yourself dangling over the edge. You just needed one little push, and a little push is what you got when Jaehyun turned his face to Johnny, and the older man met him for a kiss. Johnny growled against Jaehyun’s lips, biting down on his lower lip, and Jaehyun’s hand ran through Johnny’s hair, now sweaty and damp.

The sight of your lovers making out in front of you tipped you over the edge. Your eyes screwing shut, their names and profanities spilling from your mouth, moaning as the pleasure started in your hands and feet, before spreading up your arms and legs and taking over your body. Your hips didn’t stop moving, seemingly having a mind of your own, trying to draw out your orgasm as you clenched around nothing. All too soon, the sensation washed away, leaving you pliant and breathless in Johnny’s arms.

Your eyes opened to find that they hadn’t exactly broken away. They’d stopped kissing to pay attention to you, but they were still close enough for each other’s lips to remain against their own. When they finally separated, a small trail of spit connected their lower lips.

“That was so hot,” Johnny groaned, pressing your head against his chest, which was now bare, somehow. Jaehyun must have slipped off his shirt at some point without you noticing, you concluded in your frazzled state of mind. You closed your eyes as you allowed your breathing to return to normal, vaguely aware of your boys kissing each other a bit more.

“How are you doing, princess?” Jaehyun said once you had calmed down, no longer panting. His hand was caressing your side up and down, almost as if he was comforting you. You straightened your posture to look up at him and Johnny, giving them a soft, sleepy smile. Johnny’s big hands squeezed your hips as he spoke. “You wanna stop, or do you wanna keep going?”

You nodded, brushing away a damp strand of hair that was in your face. “I still haven’t gotten fucked by either of you,” You mumbled, “What makes you think I’m stopping before that happens?”

The pair exchanged a dark glance, wicked smiles gracing their faces before looking back at you.

“Clothes off,” Jaehyun ordered, “Now.”

You moved off of Johnny, legs wobbling slightly, to lay down next to them. You popped the button on your shorts and pulled down the zipper, watching as Jaehyun undressed Johnny, doing the same with his shorts as he kissed down the older man’s neck. You were left in now ruined cotton panties, the drenched fabric clinging to your folds in an awkward way. Your eyes turned to the pair in front of you as Jaehyun pulled down Johnny’s boxers, leaving him naked as well. They faced you, and Johnny grabbed you by the ankle, dragging you towards them with a soft smile on his face. You laughed quietly, the noise dying when Jaehyun grabbed your other leg as well and parted them, before lying in between them, face inches away from your core.

“John, baby,” He said, craning his neck to stare at him, “Can I…?”

“Go ahead, pretty boy,” Johnny replied, as he lay next to you, “Y/N made you feel good earlier, and we need to get her ready for us, right? You can return the favor, can’t you?”

Jaehyun nodded, and Johnny raised an eyebrow as he moved to lie next to you. “Words, baby boy.”

Jaehyun gulped, hands resting on your hips. “Yes, John.”

His hands reached for your panties, his eyes meeting yours as he pressed a kiss to your thigh. Your hand brushed some sandy brown hair out of his eyes, and you hummed as you watched him pull down the last piece of clothing, discarding it. “Jae,” You mumbled, “You’re so pretty, baby.”

Jaehyun smiled, the tips of his ears turning red. It had taken you a few weeks for you to put it together when you started dating, but you eventually figured out that Jaehyun loved getting praised. Anytime you or Johnny said something about how good or handsome he was, how nice he made either of you feel, he’d turn to putty in your hands.

He grabbed your thighs, pulling them over his shoulders, his face close to where you needed him most but did nothing. He was riling you up, you knew he was. He loved to do this, loved to wait how long he could wait before making you beg. “Babe,” You murmured, “Jae, please don’t tease me.”

His eyes twinkled with something you couldn’t read as he pressed another kiss to your thigh, big, rough hands gripping your hips possessively. “You beg so nicely, princess. How could I refuse?”

He lowered his mouth to your hole, and your eyes squeezed shut, hissing out at the sensitivity. Johnny pressed a kiss to your forehead. The hand that wasn’t tugging on Jaehyun’s hair shot out to grasp Johnny’s forearm. Johnny responded by grabbing your hand and guiding it to his cock, and you obeyed his silent command by wrapping your hand around him, pumping him slowly.

You could hear his breathing right next to your ear, combined with the wet sounds Jaehyun was making as he mouthed along your slit. You weren’t sure what to focus on, letting out a high keen as Jaehyun slid a finger inside of you, his mouth coming up to suckle on your clit.

“Ah, Jaehyun, baby,” You whined, hips trying to move, but being stopped by Jaehyun’s other hand, “F-feels so good.”

Jaehyun hummed against your clit, the vibration causing you to squirm even further, crying out his name. Already you could feel the familiar sensation in your lower stomach again, forcing you to focus on Jaehyun’s mouth, alternating between sucking your clit and flicking it with the tip of your tongue.

“You like how he’s making you feel, baby girl?” Johnny asked a few moments later, and you nodded as he pressed his forehead against your temple to whisper into your ear. “You like the way he’s being a good boy and eating your pussy like he’s starving?”

You nodded again, whining even louder when Jaehyun added a second finger. Johnny’s hand rose to your breast, teasing your nipple as your head fell back, hand falling into a sloppy rhythm against Johnny’s cock. He pinched harshly, and you tried to move away from his grip, but he wouldn’t let you. “Neither of you seem to want to use your words today, huh? Come on, princess, tell Jaehyun how much you like it.”

You opened your mouth, trying to speak, but shrieking when Jaehyun’s fingers began to thrust into you at a rapid pace. Your hips were bucking wildly against Jaehyun’s mouth and fingers now, despite his best efforts to hold you down.

“J-Jae, fuck, fuck, fuck… Ah, your fingers are s-so big… They’re fucking me so good, I-I’m so sensitive, I don’t think I can h-hold on much longer…”

“Aw, already?” Jaehyun teased from between your legs, fingers not letting up as he slowed down their pace, “It’s only been a few minutes.”

“Jaehyun,” You whined, grasp tightening on his hair, “I’m gonna come, p-please…”

“No.”

Your eyes shot open to glare at Johnny, breathing heavily as Jaehyun removed his fingers from your aching core, and your hand stopped its movement against Johnny’s dick. “Why not?” You whined, and Johnny sat up, propping himself against the faded maroon headboard of the bed.

“Because you’re not cumming again until both of us have.” His tone was stern, leaving no room for argument. His gaze, however, was warm. “Now, what’s gonna happen is this: you’re gonna get on your hands and knees, and pretty boy over there is gonna fuck you from behind, and you’re gonna let me fuck your face. Can you two do that for me?”

He was giving both you and Jaehyun the chance to drop it now, disguised under the illusion of a command. But you didn’t want to stop. You rarely did when it came to your boyfriends.

“Yes, John,” You and Jaehyun answered at the same time, looking at him. Johnny grinned, patting his thighs with both hands.

“Come here, Y/N. Hands and knees, like I said.”

You crawled over to him, eyes not leaving Johnny’s face. His dark eyes followed yours, face covered with a light sheen of sweat, hair brushed back to reveal his forehead. You leaned forward when you got to the spot where he ordered you to be, pressing a kiss to his jawline. Your mouth trailed down to his neck, smiling against his skin when you heard him sigh in satisfaction.

You felt the bed shift as Jaehyun came to kneel behind you, hands trailing down your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your kisses trailed down Johnny’s tan skin, past his collarbones, across his pecs, down his stomach, ghosting along his right hip. Your lips left his skin as Jaehyun gripped your hip with one hand, using his hand to grind his dick against your soaking folds.

“You want me to put it in, baby?” Jaehyun asked you, and you nodded without hesitating, your face heating at your desperation. “Yes, Jae.”

“Suck Johnny’s dick and I’ll do whatever you want, lovely girl.”

His words were accompanied by Johnny’s hands touching the back of your neck, not pushing, but still commanding a certain power over you, still compelling you to lower yourself onto his cock.

One thing you’d learned very early on from having sex with both Johnny and Jaehyun, you thought as you let your mouth relax around Johnny’s dick, was that they were both bigger than the past lays you’d had. Jaehyun was a bit longer, but Johnny was thicker. Regardless, they both had the power to leave your legs shaking, and your throat scratchy for days.

Once you’d allowed your jaw to loosen enough, you began bobbing your head up and down slowly, tonguing along the underside of the shaft. Your hands held you up, grasping Johnny’s toned thighs for support. A rush came through you as you realized that those thighs were what had made you come earlier, and that helped you push Johnny even further down your throat.

A groan bubbled out of Johnny’s throat, and Jaehyun took that as his sign to push into you. You moaned against Johnny, and his groan got louder, hands pushing you even further against Johnny’s pelvis. You held back the urge to gag, forcing yourself to focus on breathing through your nose despite the intrusion in your mouth.  

Jaehyun’s movements started slow, letting you get used to the both of them fucking into you from both ends. He let out a low hiss as you clenched around him, hips grinding against you in a way that had you seeing stars.

It was as if they were connected telepathically, something unspoken between the two of them that always confused and amused you. You felt the amusement again as they both sped up the movements of their hips at the same time, a gradual buildup from teasing, subtle grinding, to harsh bucks of the hips, fucking in and out of you as if you were their own little tool for pleasure, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Any noises that left you were either muffled shrieks of pleasure as Jaehyun pounded away at your still sensitive pussy, or gagging noises, as Johnny’s hands forced you up and down his cock, bottoming out into your throat whenever he wanted to prolong little bursts of ecstasy. Tears were running down your face as he did so, and when he noticed, he let out a strained laugh.

“Hey, baby girl, are you crying because of my dick or Jaehyun’s?”

He pulled you off of him, and you took the chance to catch your breath before answering a few seconds later.

“B-both,” You moaned, and Jaehyun grunted in acknowledgement.

“Good,” He hummed, and you bit your lip as you fucked back against him, “Using our little girl like this feels so nice, doesn’t it, Johnny?”

“It feels fucking fantastic, pretty boy,” Johnny answered as you craned your neck to kiss along his shaft, “She’s so small, but she takes us both like a fucking champ. Maybe next time we should stuff her pussy and her ass at the same time… would you like that, angel?”

You cried out enthusiastically, stomach twisting at the suggestion. Jaehyun threw his head back, letting out a guttural groan.

“Oh, she’d love that, baby. You should’ve felt how much tighter she got when you said that.”

Johnny grinned, and lifted you off of his cock one more time.

“Hey, Y/N,” He said, lifting your chin to get you to look at him.

“H-hey, Johnny,” You whimpered, and Johnny pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Get off his dick, princess,” He told you, loud enough for Jaehyun to hear, “I’ve got an idea.”

Jaehyun stopped his movements, pulling out of you. You whined at the sudden emptiness, and Johnny patted your head to calm you before standing. Given that the bed frame was a lot lower than most beds, it allowed him to tower over both you and Jaehyun as Johnny propped the younger man up, then told you to sit in his lap, letting Jaehyun slide back inside of you.

“I wanna watch you both,” He murmured lovingly, carding a hand through Jaehyun’s hair, who hummed happily. Your mind was turning fuzzy fast, clinging to Jaehyun and pressing soft kisses to his jaw.

“Can we still touch you, Johnny?” You asked, voice small, flashing him big, pouty eyes that he could seldom refuse as he sat back down at where he once was.

Johnny nodded, his hand moving to your head and repeating the movement he’d made on Jaehyun’s head. “Of course you can, baby,” He answered, “But you’ll do it when I say so and how I tell you to do it. Is that okay?”

“Yes, Johnny.”

“Okay.”

Johnny smiled at the both of you, and slowly Jaehyun began his rhythm again, fucking in and out of you slowly, before speeding up again. Your lips trailed down to his neck, sucking on a spot you wanted to leave a mark on, and your hands came up to toy with his nipple piercings, mimicking what Johnny had been doing to him earlier.

Jaehyun groaned, eyebrows furrowing and eyes fluttering shut as you began to move with him and tug at the piercings. He turned his head to lock eyes with Johnny, who was stroking himself as he watched the two of you gradually lose control against each other’s body. The two held each other’s gaze, Jaehyun’s eyes lowering first as he pressed a kiss to your  sweaty forehead.

“John,” Jaehyun pleaded, voice deep and teasing, “Come here, daddy, I wanna jack you off.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow. You and Jaehyun only brought out daddy when you wanted to be little shits to him and tease him more than usual. Nevertheless, he relented, standing and walking around the bed. Your eyes peeled open a few moments later, finding Johnny standing to the side of you, cock being stroked by Jaehyun as he continued to roll his hips into you.

Given that the bed was lower than usual, and Johnny was freakishly tall, his dick was more or less level with your faces, and through the hazy pleasure of Jaehyun pounding away at you, you got an idea.

You leaned slightly to the side, pressing a kiss to the head of Johnny’s member, and Johnny groaned as he realized what you wanted to do. Jaehyun seemed to like the idea, his hips fucking into you even faster once he registered what was going on.

Johnny used his knees to lean against the mattress, allowing you to lean back into your original position as he tipped his head back.

“Our dirty girl,” Johnny hissed, “You want cock so bad, don’t you? Can’t handle just one fucking you, you need another one down your throat.”

Jaehyun pulled you off of him. “Give him an answer, sweetheart,” He ordered, before taking your place and taking Johnny into his mouth.

“I’m yours,” You told them, “Want you both all day, all night, ngh, always… I love you both s-so much, I can’t handle not being fucked like this ever again…”

“You belong to us now, baby. We own you, body and soul.” Johnny’s voice was slightly strained now, but his words still held the same effect. You were eager to agree, unable to say anything as Jaehyun hit the one spot inside of you that had you crying out his name.

“Fuck, Jae! Right there!”

Jaehyun pulled off of Johnny’s cock, pulling you into a bruising kiss as he continued to hit your sweet spot time and time again.

“Yeah, you’re gonna cum again soon?” Jaehyun asked when he pulled away, and you nodded, before turning to Johnny and taking him into your mouth again.

“Don’t forget, princess,” Johnny said, “You can’t cum until either of us have. Understood?”

You nodded, trying to hold off the impending wave that was soon to crash on you.

“I’m so fucking close, Johnny,” Jaehyun mumbled, and Johnny gave a garbled agreement when Jaehyun’s free hand came up to stroke along with your hand.

“Me too, baby,” Johnny groaned, “You gonna fill Y/N up? Cum inside that tight pussy of hers?”

Your legs wrapped around Jaehyun’s waist, before you pulled your mouth away from Johnny, opting to stroke him as Jaehyun took him into his mouth once more.

“Give it to me, Jae,” You begged, voice shaky.

Johnny came first with a loud, “Fuck!” He watched as you and Jaehyun took turns licking away the cum as it shot out of the tip of his dick, tongues meeting occasionally as you both mouthed along the head.

“Shit, you’re both so good to me.”

Jaehyun’s orgasm came moments later. He buried his face in your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist as his pace turned sloppy and sporadic, filling you with hot cum as he groaned out both your name and Johnny’s. You whimpered at the sensitivity of your insides as he twitched against your walls, painting them white, but you didn’t stop bouncing in his lap.

“Y-you both came,” You moaned, desperate to cum. You could see on Jaehyun’s face that he was growing sensitive as well, but his hands on your waist weren’t stopping you at all. “Please let me cum, I’ve been a good girl…”

Johnny sat behind you, letting your head roll onto his shoulder. One hand wrapped around your neck, not squeezing, but still tight enough to send a thrill down your spine. “Yeah, you’ve been really well behaved tonight, baby. You weren’t as bratty as you usually are, hmm?”

You couldn’t answer, not when his other hand reached down to tap away at your swollen clit.

“J-John, ah—”

“You wanna cum, baby girl?”

You nodded, eyes squeezing shut as your hips took on a mind of their own.

“Then cum, sweetheart.”

And somehow, his deep, warm voice triggered your orgasm.

You threw your head back, almost positive that what you were speaking in tongues rather than actually saying anything coherent. You clung onto Jaehyun with one hand, writhing in his hold, and reached back to grip Johnny’s bicep. Beneath your eyelids, colors danced around you. You were certain this was what heaven felt like, and that this was some sort of divine ascension…

Verona, Nevada, 10:06 PM

When you managed to come down, you felt groggy, and your vision felt hazy, as if you were in a dream.  The only sound came from the three of you, breathing heavily as you recovered from what had just happened. The room smelled like sex, sweat, and oddly enough, greasy pizza.

“Y/N?” Jaehyun murmured, “You still with us?"

You nodded, trying to ignore the scratchiness in your throat. "Yeah… ‘m good. Came really hard.”

Johnny chuckled from behind you, before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Certainly looked like it, baby.”

You smiled, eyes drooping already at the tiredness you were beginning to feel.  

You settled down between the two of them, ignoring the smell of sweat emanating from the three of you all together. Yes, you loved being like this, sandwiched between your two favorite people, but you couldn’t deny that the body heat radiating from everyone, plus slight tackiness of sweaty skin against more sweaty skin made you want to cringe. And as much as you loved the idea of Jaehyun’s cum staying inside of you, it was slowly beginning to trickle down your thigh, further contributing to your growing discomfort.

“I need to shower,” You finally mumbled, rubbing your eyes sleepily, before pouting. Looking around the motel room, you noted that it was dingy enough, you didn’t want to imagine the bathroom. “How bad is the bathroom?”

Jaehyun groaned, hand coming to rub at his forehead in disdain.

“Oh, it’s fuckin’ nasty.”

“...Shit.”

[hes-writer]

Instagram

Based on: harry is on tour and y/n posts a picture with a co-worker on a night out and he gets jealous and frustrated cause he hasn't seen his girl in a while.... he does something stupid that goes viral and breaks her heart but the co-worker is just a really good friend of hers and is happily married or something.... idk if it's a good idea but you can make it very angsty cause i love it hahahah (ooh-so-laura)

Word Count: 1457 words

Warnings: fluff, angst

Being on tour meant that Harry was away from Y/N for most of the year and that completely takes a toll on a relationship. It wasn’t because their love for each other lacked in any way, shape, or form. It was just that distance can strain even a strong relationship like theirs in subtle ways. So subtle that Harry didn’t even notice that he had gone a couple of days without video calling his lover, or that she wasn’t updating him every hour on her annoying work colleagues-- which was unusual for her, considering that she was practically attached to her cell for hours on end. 

So when Harry finally had the time off to catch up with the rest of himself, alongside the buzzing environment of traveling and touring-- his first instinct was to grasp his phone and dial Y/N’s number, not even considering the time difference of their home to his location for the next twenty-four hours. 

He waited and waited for what seemed like forever--he thought it was interchangeable considering he hadn’t talked to her in ages--he was surprised (not really) that it went to her voicemail. Harry knew that Y/N loved her sleep. He switched off the Clock app, finding out that it was only a quarter past nine and there was absolutely no way that she would be asleep at this hour. 

He tried twice, to no avail. His eyebrows furrowed in wonder and curiosity, lips pursing in a slight pout as a sudden wave of sadness overcame him and he realized that he’d probably have to wait for a bit more time until he got to talk to Y/N. 

---

As private as he is, Harry still kept up to date with the latest news through social media. He has been extra cautious as of late ever since he accidentally posted a picture of him wearing a cartoon shirt to his public Instagram story, mistaking taking it for the green, ‘close friends’ button. He made sure to keep his thumb a few centimeters more away from the sensitive screen as to not accidentally double-tap a picture he had no intentions of liking. He scrolled quickly, his eyes boring the screen in a swift glance, not really being interested in anything he was seeing. 

He soon moved on to his next task--to check everyone’s story. Loud sounds and pounding music got lagged through as he tapped on the right side of his screen, cutting off the video midway. He was still uninterested. 

Harry refreshed his feed, letting the loading logo swirl through circularly. Needless to say, he was stunned when he saw Y/N’s latest post, uploaded only a few minutes ago. 

There it was in large format, a picture of his girl and a--not going to lie-- a very decent looking man in a slick navy blue suit with a red tie. He figured he would’ve been more up-front of his obvious distaste of the man if he hadn’t worn such a color-coordinated suit. Snickering to himself, Harry thought he could probably show him up with a Gucci patterned suit of his that he’ll pull off no matter what. 

But nonetheless, the look was effortless and Harry was sure that he would’ve liked the man very much if it weren’t for Y/N appearing beside him. That alone caused a scowl to appear on his face and the next thing he knew; he was calling his girlfriends’ number with forceful taps of his calloused thumbs.

Y/N looked great, obviously. And maybe that’s why he was impatiently muttering to himself for her to pick up the phone. Harry didn’t know if he should complement the dress she wore or mention the fact that her lipstick was perfectly painted on her pouty lips, or how her hair was styled in a way that reminded him of date nights that ended in passionate lovemaking.

His chest ached suddenly, emotions overwhelming the fact that he missed his girl so much added with the boiling jealousy bubbling in his blood. The call went to voicemail and normally he would patiently wait a few minutes before calling again. However, Y/N’s profile rimmed a colorful hue, indicating that she just recently uploaded a story. 

He didn’t know what to make of her actions-- if she deliberately ignored him or she simply did not hear her ringtone alarming that he was calling. He called again. 

“Who’s that in your photo?” He growled, demanding for an answer instead of greeting his lover.

Y/N furrowed her brows at his sudden rough voice filling the speaker of her phone, “Hello to you, too”

“Who was that?” Harry repeated. He couldn’t help his fingers from fidgeting against a stray string of his knitted jumper. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“That was Kevin,” Y/N answered loudly, loud music blaring through her soft voice. “Did you like his suit? He said it was Gucci, but he wouldn’t let me see the tag,” She chuckled at the end, oblivious at the burning jealousy coursing through Harry.  

“Kevin, huh?” Harry mocked. “I’m sure it was Gucci and I guarantee that he wouldn’t mind taking it off to show you,”

He could hear you excusing yourself from the crowd. His phone speaker muted to a quieter atmosphere--he assumed you moved outside. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“God, Y/N. I haven’t seen you in so long and the first thing I see is with you and some other guy!”

“And whose fault is that?” She bit back, hoping to get some sense into his head before she hung up. 

Sighing in frustration, Harry changed to a decent attire, quickly grabbing the things he needed for a night out. Needless to say, the next morning was interesting for both of them. 

———

Headlines of Harry were plastered everywhere, mostly discussing his wild night out wherein pictures of women grinding against him were linked. He didn’t have an ounce of alcohol last night, but the hazy atmosphere of the club surely made his mind boggled. 

“Oh shit,” He muttered silently to himself, sitting up in his otherwise empty hotel bed. 

—-

Y/N understood that he was busy as of late, especially since he was in the middle of touring. Their video calls for the past couple weeks dwindled into a good morning or good night message and as much as she wanted to beg him for a few minutes to see his faced in a pixelated screen--she knew that he just didn’t have enough* time to do so. 

But apparently he had enough time to go out. She thought. She shook off the thought, knowing that jealousy and jumping into conclusion never ended in a quiet stupor. 

Instead, she examined the pictures closely as much as the blurry pixels let her. Seeing the emptiness in his eyes and the slouch of his shoulders caught her attention. His hands were to himself, seeming as though he did not care enough to push the women off of him but had no intentions to enjoy the movements against his body. And frankly, Y/N should be angry at him for doing something so stupid. But she also couldn’t ignore her instincts that all he needed was a reassurance that their love was still very much alive. 

She called him. 

“Y/N!” Harry agitatedly explains the events of last night, spewing out that he did not do anything that would taint his conscience or ruin the relationship they had. It put Y/N’s mind to ease knowing that her initial assumption was right—he just needed her to be there for him. 

“It’s okay, H. I understand,” She responded softly, playing at the end of *his shirt that she was wearing. 

“Y-you do?” His voice came out childlike and scared. She could imagine his lips pursing in a pout. 

“It’s alright, Har,” Y/N relaxed her tense muscles, “You wanna tell me what happened during our call?’ She giggled at his behaviour, to which he groaned in protest. 

“I’d rather not,” He shook his head, his dimple making a slight indent on his cheek.

“You were jealous weren’t you?” 

“Of course not. I was just wondering because if it was from Gucci, then Alessandro would’ve shown it to me by now,” He muttered quickly, lips pursing and pressing a lie to cover up his embarrassing actions. “And I kind of miss you,” He added quietly. 

“Right, of course,” Y/N let a few seconds pass before replying, “And I miss you too,”

“So, Kevin is …?” Harry let his thoughts trail off, brows pinching together as he waited for her answer.

She laughed at his prying tone, “Kevin is happily married and you are, too.”

----

thank u for the request !!

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[bettsfic]

Hi Beth can you tell me how you stop subvocalizing when you write. I tried but I never succeeded

do you mean stop subvocalizing when you read? i don’t know how to stop subvocalizing in writing. i’ve never really considered trying it, because i don’t think it would make me write any faster?

anyway, i’m going to assume you mean how to stop subvocalizing when reading. for those who don’t know what subvocalizing is, it’s a holdover habit from learning english by sounding words out phonetically. you probably learned the word “cat” by sounding out each letter and hearing yourself speak it. then when you got old enough, you realized you didn’t have to say the word out loud anymore; you could say it in your head. for many of us, we never stopped learning to read by saying words in our heads. that adds an additional step to reading -- if you stop at every word and speak it internally, it takes a lot more time than just recognizing the word and moving on. in other words, you don’t have to “say” a word in your head in order to derive its meaning. you can just look at it and know what it means.

there are also many readers who naturally dropped that habit, or many readers who never developed it to begin with. some of the research i did treated subvocalizing as an egregious reading sin, but i don’t think it’s a bad thing at all. in fact now that i know how to read without it, i still kind of prefer it in an indulgent kind of way. without subvocalizing, i miss out on the meter and cadence of sentences that i would otherwise be able to mentally hear. both reading a word and hearing it helps retain what i’m reading and store it in long term memory. when i subvocalize, my comprehension is much higher. you could hand me a book i read three years ago and tell me to find a certain line, and i’d probably be able to do it, because i could remember where it is in the book and what part of the page it was on.

however, i used to only read one way, at one speed. it didn’t even occur to me that you could read in different ways, or why you’d want to. even when i subvocalize, i’m not a slow reader, but i’m slower than many writers. i read about 10k an hour, so a novel would take me 8 to 10 hours to read, longer since i check my phone all the time and get distracted too easily. there’s a lot of overlap between hyperlexia and hypergraphia in terms of having a near-religious relationship with words, but a big way to differentiate it is speed and struggle. i write fast and a lot and it feels like my default state of being, but i definitely can’t read fast or a lot (at least, not naturally), even though i’d like to, and most of the time i have to force myself to do it.

one of my major concerns with the phd is that i knew it came with an astronomical amount of reading, and i was afraid i wouldn’t be able to keep up. so i started playing around with apps where you could upload an epub file and it would only show you one word at a time in rapid succession. i tried to read war & peace that way. that method didn’t really work for me for a lot of reasons. one, i like my eyes to be able to move. two, i would miss words if i blinked. three, it was just very stressful. four, there was no way to read physical books that way, and i like reading physical books just as much as i like ebooks.

i went back to google and started reading articles on speed reading. i found out that eye movement is a very important factor. when your eyes move, you actually can’t see anything. it’s only when they stop that you take in information, and your brain automatically puts together what happened between movements. i figured out that my eyes were stopping more or less at every single word on a page. the first thing i did to eliminate subvocalization was to only allow my eyes to stop at the beginning and end of each line, and i was really surprised how easy it was and how much i was able to retain just with that change. 

but i still found myself reading aloud in my head. i tried some visualization exercises, in which, while i read, i was just thinking of a droning noise, like a microwave or something. i tried imagining there was duct tape over my mouth. all of those worked to some degree, but in the end it just took practice and intention. also, when you do the eye-bouncing thing, there’s really no time to subvocalize. your brain registers clusters of words, takes in the info, and you’re forced to move on. it also helped that i named my different reading speeds:

scanning: reading to find something, no focus on comprehension or retaining information. i do this when i’m doing research for a paper, or if i’m working through a boring novel and am only interested in one character. i can “read” an entire book in one sitting with this method, but i wouldn’t have any idea what happened in it. i do subvocalize once i find the thing i’m looking for, but then i stop when i start scanning again. 

skimming: reading to get a general gist of something. i do this for class readings because i only need to know enough to participate in a discussion. this is where i do the eye-bouncing thing i described above. no subvocalizing here. i can read a novel in a couple hours doing this, but it still takes a lot of energy and focus. this type of reading still feels like work to me. 

pleasure reading: this is when i want to read something for fun. full subvocalization, eyes stopping at each word so i can enjoy it and remember it. the downside is that i read so thoroughly the first time that i rarely re-read anything. the only books i’ve ever read twice all the way through are harry potter and the hunger games. until recently i didn’t understand why anyone would read anything twice, when you could just pluck the story from your memory.

close reading: this is reading at the microscopic level, where i pick apart a text sentence by sentence. usually i only do this for editing or teaching purposes, or if i’m specifically trying to figure out how a writer did something. i tend to lose big-picture comprehension with this method, and i can’t read long works this way, only a few thousand words at a time before i burn out. 

i hope this helps! happy reading!

[minghaocouture]

Fearless: Chapter 10

Pairing: Werewolf!Jeon Wonwoo x Vampire!Reader Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Non-Idol Au Warnings: Language WC: 3.4k+ AU Lore:  Vampire Coven Info/Wolf Pack Info/Lore Info Tag List: @moon-asia @uglychildd @woozisnoots @hwangjangmi @rjsmochii @fluffyhyeju @darkacrimson @skjdln​ @moonchild9499​

Couldn’t Tag: @unbaeknownst, @Angelmingyu

A/N: We’re just gonna pretend it’s not 1am and I didn’t upload this super late lol. I also wanted to leave you guys with a little cliff hanger <3 

Chapter List:  Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9/Chapter 10/Chapter 11/Chapter 12/Chapter 13/Chapter 14

It was far too early for it to be this loud in this house. Running on a different internal clock than the other occupants of this house proved to be more of an issue to you than you had originally thought.

Now here you were, head hidden under a pillow as you tried to block out the rummaging and chatter from downstairs. You were trying to get over your previous prejudice of the wolves and their pack, but as of this moment you were finding it really hard not to keep hating them, if only for the noise they were all currently making.

A groan left your lips as you heard another loud crash from downstairs. Rolling over and burying your face into the mattress, as if that would help. Hell it didn’t even block out the small laughter in the room you were currently in. Peeking out from under the pillow, you glanced over to the bed that Wonwoo had slept in the night before. He was now sitting up and staring at you, laughing at your struggle. To add insult to injury he apparently decided that sleeping shirtless was something that was okay, even with you in the room. 

“Oh laugh it up, wolf boy. We’ll see who's laughing when I find a way to wake you up in the middle of the night.”

“I mean, I could always stay over at your place and give you the opportunity?” The suggestion had you quickly exiting your pillow hiding place and sitting up to face him. Eyes wide as you stared at him, confused by his sudden bold words. “Or...you could call me late at night until I wake up. That works too.”

Rolling your eyes at his quick backtracking and letting out a loud yawn, “I mean, the first one is kind of an option, but I’m still not too sure if i’m going to have a ‘place’ after all this is over with.” You retorted, lifting your arms in the air as you stretched. Working the muscles a bit so they would be less tense. You had been trying to not think about that. Becoming a stray wasn’t something you would want to happen, after all it wasn’t like you wanted to be basically alone for the rest of eternity. Which is what would happen if you were cast out, you definitely weren’t going to join a different coven. It’d feel wrong.

“Well, what’s...what’s the deciding factor? I, well none of us really know all that much about how Vampires work, well besides the basics. And...how to kill you.” That was fair, you barely knew about werewolf living. Deciding to lighten the mood a bit, a grin made its way onto your face.

“Alright, I’ll tell you that if you tell me why all of you look about the same age. It’s...actually kinda weird.” You knew that Werewolves weren’t immortal like Vampires, but something about how everyone in this house looked the same age was a bit off putting. It wasn’t huge, but it was strange, you figured that packs would have like older wiser wolves, like your Coven’s with the Venture, not just a bunch of people in their 20s. 

A brief moment of realization hit you, causing your eyes to widen as your thoughts raced. If you were Wonwoo’s mate and he was...only 20. That was, understandably, a bit weird. You were well over a century old, and if he was 20 you were old enough to literally be one of his great great great grandmother. That had to be creepy.

Apparently you had been broadcasting your thought process across your face, cause once again that familiar deep toned laugh spread through the room and causing a rather strange chill to tingle down your spine. It wasn’t a bad chill, just unexpected. Masking that feeling with an irritated scowl, you grabbed your pillow and hurled it at his head. Catching it, he placed it on the bed next to him before speaking up again.

“That actually has to do with our mates. We stop aging when we turn 20 until we find out mate. Well, find and actually uh…’mate’ with the mate.”

“So you won’t age unless we have sex?” You questioned, not bothering to tiptoe around the subject. “Wait...wait a damn minute. You won’t age unless we have sex? How old are you then?”

He paused for a moment, taking a minute as he seemed to be thinking about his own age. Which honestly was something you could relate to. After so many years alive, they kind of just start blurring together.

“I’m going to be 93 this year.” The relief you felt at those words had you letting out an audible sigh. At least you weren’t some creepy old woman compared to him, that would have just been weird if he had actually been 20. Well, to you it would have been. You knew others, mainly Soonyoung, would disagree. Though he definitely wasn’t the best example, considering he still considered himself to be 24 despite being 132.

Realizing that you had once again become lost in your own mind, you turned your attention back to Wonwoo and noticed that he was staring at you. The look in his eyes caught you off guard, it was almost as if you had just hung the stars in front of him with how intent his gaze was. It seemed that now with this mate business out in the open, he didn’t feel the need to hide anything. It didn’t make you uncomfortable, and in fact you wouldn’t mind seeing that look more often. Letting out a small cough to focus yourself once more, you decided to hold up your end of the exchange.

“So, technically all the major decisions in the Coven are made by the Inner Circle. Which includes our Venture, Soonyoung, the Primus, Junhui, as well as two of the other members, Minghao and Chan.” You began, unfortunately Vampire politics was extremely annoying to deal with at times, which is why you weren’t going to go into what a Venture or Primus was unless he asked. Thinking about it, you honestly didn’t know how Minghao put up with it all, he seemed to hate it almost as much as you did.. “I’ve technically got one vote in my favor, and probably one against me, but i’m not too sure how Chan and Soonyoung will react so it’s all up in the air.” 

You were pretty sure that Minghao was still on your side, at least you hoped he was. Despite his neck being on the line too, you knew that he wasn’t the type of person to throw others aside, he was loyal if nothing else. You could say the same for Junhui, but he had been pretty upset though, and if Junhui was upset then Soonyoung would probably listen to him and if that happened then you knew Chan would as well. So basically it all would depend on how Junhui reacted to you...walking out after yelling at him...and basically inviting him to kick you out. 

So you definitely hadn’t done yourself any favors. 

You hadn’t realized that Wonwoo had gotten up until you felt the bed shift a bit as he took a seat next to you, his hand reaching for yours and the instant comfort you felt at that contact was almost ridiculous. A thought passed through your mind, wondering if the feelings that were rushing through your brain were simply from this mate thing between the two of you...or if they were real. That would be a question for another day though. 

“I’m sure everything is gonna turn out fine. You gotta trust them a little, Covens are kind of like families right? Just like our pack. So i’m sure they’re going to look out for you too.” You weren’t sure if he knew how much those words meant, and you certainly weren’t going to tell him. After all, you had to keep at least some of your tough image. Though...around him you could probably drop it...just a little bit.

You felt yourself subconsciously scoot closer to him and without even thinking about it you found your head resting on his bare shoulder. He tensed at the added weight but soon the hand holding yours had adjusted to where it wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer. You weren’t sure if the Mate thing had anything to do with how you were feeling, but you weren’t about to move now.

“I’m sure you’re right.” 

You weren’t sure how much time passed, the two of your just sitting there in silence. But it wasn’t long enough.

The door to the room practically slammed open and you felt your body push itself as far away from Wonwoo as you could. Going so far as to even shove him away as well. Eyes snapping to the door you were greeted by Mingyu, who’s grin could only be described as ‘shit-eating’. He really did have a punchable face, and he was only proving it more. 

“Cheol wants you guys to come to breakfast.” He said, obviously holding back laughter as he looked between the two of you. If looks could kill, you were sure that Mingyu would have been dead twice over just from the look Wonwoo was giving him. More than that if you were being counted in the equation. 

You groaned as you watched Mingyu close the door, making over exaggerated kissing noises, followed by the sound of footsteps and him yelling something to the other wolves. Which you could assume was related to what he just walked in on. Meeting him for the first time, you were already wondering how someone like Wonwoo could handle being his roommate. 

“Is he always like this?”

“I love him, and he is my best friend...but yes, yes he is.” 

***

You were pretty sure you were only here so Seungcheol could keep an eye on you. It’s not like you were eating or anything, and the only reason you had a seat was because Sana was still bed ridden. It seemed that some people weren’t taking too kindly to you intruding on their breakfast, and the atmosphere had gotten so tense since you arrived. So it was going about as well as you had expected it to. 

A few of the pack, mainly Wonwoo, Vernon, Jacob and Felix, did try their best to seem welcoming but everyone else present was definitely more on edge with you around. Especially Changbin, and if you were being honest his constant glaring was starting to get a bit annoying. First he complained about having to keep the curtains closed while you were around, then it was he didn’t want to sit across from you at the table, and now it was a completely different story.

“Why does she have to sit in here? It’s not like she’s going to eat anything.” 

You felt your eye twitch ever so slightly, your jaw clenching in irritation. It was harder to fight your more stubborn and temperamental nature, but you were playing nice so attacking him (even verbally) would probably put you on thin ice. Despite knowing this, you weren’t one to sit back and get verbally harassed.

“She’s a guest, we’re not just going to make her hang out around the house alone.” Which was definitely Seungcheol’s code for, ‘she’s technically still an enemy so we don’t want to give her free range of the house’. It didn’t take a lot to read that guy, he was a good leader or Alpha as they called it, but he was an open book. 

Changbin scoffed, shoving another serving of rice into his mouth before he did. To his left Felix let out a small sigh, obviously wishing the other male was in a better mood. The male across from you, the taller stone faced one who you were fairly certain was named Hyunwoo, spoke up.

“Have you heard anything from the human? Or your coven?” 

His question had you shaking your head, but you did pull your phone out to check once more just in case someone had messaged you during, what you were calling, the worst breakfast...ever. You weren’t surprised to find a plethora of messages from Hyunjin, asking where you were and over all just kind of freaking out, there were also several from Siyeon, Kevin and Yuna, and even a few from Gahyeon and Eunbi. None from Minhyuk or any of the inner circle though. Which was what you expected. The inner circle was probably trying to decide what to do with you and well, Minhyuk likes hearing about the drama from a distance.

“Nothing from the Inner Circle, no. I am planning on checking in with Minah around noon, and if she agrees to the plan then I’ll go grab her from the bar and bring her back here.”

“And how are you planning on doing that? It’s not like you can go outside before dark and get her. And your whole plan is useless if the stray sees the two of you together. Or did you not think of that?” Once again Changbin decided to speak up, gracing your nerves with tiny spikes of irritation. “Or is there even really a stray in the first place! I still don’t believe you’re telling us the truth. You were probably just a distraction so one of your other disgusting friends could attack Sana.”

If you cared less about your phone, you probably would have broken it with how hard you were squeezing the device, but thankfully you knew self control. Or at least you pretended like you did. It seemed though, that Changbin was just determined to push your buttons, and you’d had enough.

“You know, I didn’t take this shit from my Coven, and let me tell you, i’m not going to be taking it from you.” You began, trying to cool your expression as you stared at the male at the other end of the table. You heard Wonwoo sigh from next to you, of course since he knew you the best he probably saw this snap coming. “Kiddo, you can hate me all you damn well want, but I want you to remember that I’m here to help you. So I’m gonna need you to back off.”

A loud slam sounded through the room as Changbin’s palms met with the hardwood of the dining table. A low growl slipped from his throat as he glared at you, obviously about to jump across the table to make this more of a physical confrontation. Silence fell over the room as his harsh gaze met your stoic one, sure you were pissed but this wasn’t the place to 100% lose your cool. From your side you heard a small growl leave Wonwoo as well, it was almost sweet that he felt the need to defend you, but you certainly didn’t need it. 

“You think throwing a tantrum like this is gonna make me leave?” You questioned, a brow raised as you stared down the male who you assumed was younger than you. “It’s not gonna work, I am the Queen of tantrums and loud outbursts and let me tell you now, you don’t scare me.” It was definitely stupid to edge him on like that, especially since you were a guest. You’d probably come to regret it later but for now you were going to show that you weren’t someone that just got walked over. He would understand that.

For a moment you wondered when you started sounding like Minghao, maybe his general attitude was affecting you after all this time. It was amusing to think about, if this was how he and the others felt whenever you acted out. You’d have to question them...well if things worked out in your favor that is. 

The air was thick with tension as the sound of a chair scraping against the linoleum cut through the silence.

“Changbin, sit down and finish your breakfast then go and get ready for your classes. ” It wasn’t too surprising to see Seungcheol standing from his seat at the end of the table. He was almost like a father, vaguely you wondered how old he was, it was impossible to tell just by looking at him. His eyes then found themselves looking directly at you. “And you, come with me.” 

Would it be safe to say you were in the doghouse now? 

Sliding your chair back, you felt something grab your wrist. Looking down you noticed it was of course Wonwoo, staring up at you with concern. Concern that you brushed off. Sure you had probably just pissed off the leader of the group that was housing you, and he could easily attack you or resend his invitation to the home which would end up hurling you outside into the unforgiving and burning sun, but that was too negative to think about at the moment even for you.

Despite your attempt at being nonchalant, Wonwoo gently tugged you closer to him so that his lips ended up right next to your ear.

“If you need me, just call.” the words caused you to chuckle slightly.

“You’re sweet, but I’ll be fine.” Was all you said in return, pulling away from him and following Seungcheol out the double doors of the dining room, to the right down the hallway and into what looked like a living room. 

Once inside, you heard a sigh escape from the male as he took a seat onto one the weathered arm chairs. He gestured vaguely for you to join him and sit down. Taking the free chair on the far left of the room, it was a pretty comfortable chair. You definitely weren’t thinking about taking it with you or anything though. Glancing back over at Seungcheol, you watched as he lifted a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. 

“You’re really not making this any easier for any of us.” 

“Excuse me, for not just sitting around and taking shit from someone who is probably half my age. If not younger. ” You retorted, rolling your eyes. You could tell from watching Seungcheol that he was a good leader, probably better than Soonyoung (though with Soonyoung gone all the time, the bar wasn’t super high to begin with) but leadership can definitely take it’s toll. 

“That’s the point. Changbin is only 33. He’s still technically a kid by our standards and he’s a little rough around the edges but…” he trailed off, you could see that he didn’t really want to talk about this. It probably didn’t help that you were a complete stranger. “The point is, even if he attacks first. If you fight back I have to be on his side.”

“That sounds like something a shitty leader would say.” The words slipped from your lips before you could even think of stopping them. You could tell that Seungcheol was taken back by them almost as much as you were. “I mean, should a leader be willing to tell their people when they’re in the wrong? I’m trying to play nice here for the sake of both of our groups, but I’m not just gonna let him talk shit to my face. Fixing things is a two way road, I can’t do this if he’s unwilling to even look at me without the intent to rip my throat out.”

“I understand but-”

“No, I really don’t think you do. I’m sticking my neck out to help you guys. I might lose my place in my Coven, my family, because I’m here. I’m not gonna do that, and get trash talked by a fucking kid.” The anger from the dining room, the fear from your current situation, everything seemed to be finally reaching a head. Your limbs shook lightly as you stared him down, not with an intent to fight, but with all of the emotions you were currently feeling. 

He lifted a hand, stopping you from continuing. The room filled with silence once more as he seemed to contemplate your words. After a moment, he nodded solemnly.

“You’re right. I guess we’re all trying to work on ourselves during this. If we do go through with the mission tonight, Changbin will stay home. I think it’ll be best for everyone that way.” 

Before you could respond, the loud tone of your phone rang through the room, signaling a phone call. Seungcheol gestured for you to answer it, which you were going to do with or without his permission. 

The caller ID was definitely not a name you were expecting to see. 

Soonyoung.

[reeesea]

Something Sweet: Part Seven

~sweet home~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

pairing: minsung, han jisung/lee minho

warning: mild language

words: 4.7k

summary:  Home is where your bros at right? right.

a/n: I actually like this chapter, shocker. i hope you enjoy 

ao3

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

Minho stared at the video file sitting on his computer, on the familiar application site that had been haunting his mind for the past couple years. The debate he found himself in with himself on whether or not to submit another application, had become his default subject of thought for much of the past few weeks. All building up to right now. Something had tipped the scale though. Something that reminded him if he didn't submit an entry this year, that he might as well have given up on his one dream. His one goal. The only thing that had been keeping him motivated through university. So once again he found himself rationalizing, and knew that if anything he had to try, at least just one last time. 

Upload complete, Thank you for your entry!

Minho sighed loudly. He had sent it in. The first part of the application. It was just a basic dance routine supplied by the academy. He had practice and recorded it all within one sitting. Having been a part of a dance crew for much of the past year had allowed him to quickly pick up choreography and perfect it. The other reason being that he wanted more than anything to get the overbearing presence of the audition tape out of his head space as soon as possible. A heavy sigh left his lips as he laid back down on the studio floor, not too long after a ping of his phone revived just enough for him to check his messages.

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

2:50 pm

Minho-hyung!

I hope your day has been going well~

Sadly, no updates on when ill be free :/ 

They’re working us hard for the debut

It’s alright Ji, work hard!

You better be taking care of yourself tho...

4:03 pm (new)

Have you heard this song? Made me think of you :)

{link attached}

I hope you like it!!!!

Oh, no i havent

I’ll give it a listen ^-^

As of late it wasn’t uncommon for Jisung to send the older songs he thought he would like. Always saying some cheesy line that was so blatantly sweet it made Minho flustered everytime. This time of course was no exception. 

Ping.

HYUNG THAT EMOJI

Asjdnjsfma

I knew I was rubbin goffon you 

Kkkkk

Dont get too ahead of yourself 

atleast I can still type coherent sentences

~goffon~ 

Boo :p

Why Jisung was so persistent about sending him songs was lost on the older, but it was a sweet reminder that someone was thinking about him. It had been a while since Minho had even imagined that someone took a few minutes of their day to actually consider how he was doing. It didn't quite make sense to him that suddenly out of nowhere, there was his boy, man, person, who purposefully took the time to dedicate brain cells to his existence. Wild. 

Minho hurriedly clicked the link to the song that Jisung had sent. It was an upbeat song, with a strong but subtle strumming of a guitar to keep the song’s pace just quick enough to be comfortable. “There's no one else that could ever hold me like you do.” The lyrics were in the realm of positive longing and companionship, but the dips into minor chords and tone of the singer created a mood of desperation. More than anything, the song brought forth a story to Minho. One that he could see with his eyes close and feel his body wanting to move to. 

A smile stretched across his face, as he rose from his spot on the floor, dusting off the dull ache and pressure in his shoulders from having just finished a routine not even 10 minutes ago. 

“But I know that I'd be crazy, Not to wanna be the one to keep you up all night”

Woah there Jisung, at least take me out to dinner first. He made a mental note to tease the younger later about his “Made me think of you :)” line later. Already stretching and drawing a plan in his head, Minho took his phone and saved the song, pressing the repeat button twice, to allow the guitar chords and chorus harmonies to carry on endlessly. A smirk stretched into an excited smile. Not wanting to jinx himself, a shy “finally” was whispered in the back of Minho’s mind at the surge of inspiration, but not spoken aloud just yet.

---

Flashing lights, heavy makeup, hot clothing, and too much fog from the smoke machine is all Jisung had thought about for the last couple hours. 3RAHCHA was in their last photo shoot for their debut. The concept photos would be released later through the week, slowly revealing the three members and their group as officially signed with JJP ent. 

The multicolor lights had been running through his vision for so long that as soon as he walked into their Green Room, he had almost forgotten what color everything actually was. Looking in the mirror he saw the blonde highlighted streaks in his hair had settled nicely, slightly slicked back. The stylist had surely done their jobs well. Painting the three rappers up to look less like the nightcrawlers they were, and into something that leather and fishnet clad superstars might look like was definitely a challenge. Jisung had his makeup done just enough to give his eyes a smoky look to them, and grey contacts to emphasize his gaze. The ensemble he had on looked like something that had come straight from a catwalk. Fishnets crawling up his arms from his gloved hands and an asymmetrical shit he for sure would not have been able to put on without the help of his stylist-noona. All that plus some leather pants and combat boots, he definitely looked more like his persona J.One than the notorious hoodie clad couch potato named Jisung he usually found himself as. 

Having just finished his own solo shoot, he signaled Changbin to head on to the set as he returned. The older nodded from his chair in front of the makeup station, as the artist finished the final touches to his eyeliner. Jisung watched as the shorter rapper walked out to the set in a white puffer jacket that he somehow pulled off, even with the bright red pants he wore. A part of Jisung was thankful his stylist hadn’t taken that many liberties with his outfit, but the makeup and outfit Changbin wore really only emphasized his intimidating stare and the wideness of his shoulders. It was undeniable that their concept photos would come out well. 

Chan, who was seated on a couch, eating some of the provided sandwiches, was already hunched over his computer and mixing equipment again, airpods in. Probably working on tracks for their third comeback knowing him. Not wanting to jump right back into work Jisung snagged a few snacks from the buffet and found a chair he could lay on. Listening to music that wasn't work had become a rarity for Jisung in the years he had been with 3RACHA. Of course he always tried to stay on top of the recent pop and hip hop trends, but straying any farther than his trusty morning and workout playlists was more than unlikely. 

Lately though, Jisung found himself looking through a lot of random indie, alternative, “western” pop, and especially dance music. The versatility of the genres was comforting to Jisung in the rather turbulent state his emotions and mental state have been in, as the debut approached. Also Minho. Meeting Minho definitely had introduced a whole new set of feelings Jisung was still working on navigating. As he listened to the different songs that populated this radio, he told himself he was just looking for some inspiration for his lyrics and 3RACHA’s new music, but even he knew that was mostly a lie. 

Ever since that night at the bar with Minho he found himself always considering the older and what he would think of a song or how he would dance to it, or if he would even like it. After pointing out that he liked a particularly upbeat pop song with melancholic lyrics, during their impromptu karaoke session, Jisung had been delvinging into all related categories to find songs he thought the older might enjoy. He wanted more than anything to inspire his older companion? Partner? (that was a later Jisung question.) but he wanted to repay the man who had allowed him to get out of his creative slump. That night, as soon as the youngest rapper had returned to the 3RACHA “house” he felt the start of at least 5 separate tracks and choruses appear in his brain. His two hyungs jumped into action along with him as Jisung desperately tried to write and record everything that was jumping out of his brain at once. 

Jisung remembered Chan’s smile and encouraging words as he fitted a few of his new verses to songs they had previously put on the shelf. After finding a particularly emotional but upbeat song he immediately wanted to send it to Minho. He always got hung up on what to say with the link. Other than the thought vomit that occurred every time he chooses to send him a potentially good song: “Found this song? U Like???” No Jisung, what are you five?? “I think you will enjoy this song. Please give it a listen? :0” No that just sounds desperate. 

“You doing alright there Ji, I can hear you sighing through my earbuds?” Chan peeked out from under his styled bangs with a raised eyebrow, sending Jisung into a red embarrassed mess that he had been caught. He hoped his layers of foundation would cover it up. 

“Yeah fine fine, don't worry. I’m FINE.” Attempting to hide Jisung curled up tighter into his arm chair. Just be casual Jisung it's a song not a marriage proposal dear god. “Have you heard this song? Made me think of you :)” Good, yes fine. Send.

Minho responded immediately and cutely with an emoji that made his heart jump a little. Minho would respond always with a variation of a “Thanks! I’ll go listen”, but Jisung had yet to receive any confirmation that the older actually enjoyed the links he sent, much less had found some inspiration in them. At this point the only thing he could do was hope. He wanted nothing more than Minho to be smiling because of him.

--

Officially exhausted, it wasn’t until late when the 3RACHA boys had finally made it back to their apartment. The day Jisung had, had been anything but short. Almost collapsing immediately on the couch. Sana notified them that she had already ordered food to be delivered for dinner and that they should go to bed as soon as they had finished eating. Chan looked like he was about to pass out on the couch before the food even arrived, which was more than likely at this point. After their shoot they were immediately sent to a few other meetings laying out their marketing and schedule plans for the upcoming weeks. Although glad they were able to part with their artistic and career decisions with their company, it did add a lot of work and responsibilities to the trio. 

Jisung’s phone had died somewhere after meeting 3 of 5 and he had submitted to having to carry the lifeless brick with him anyway. Not ideal for his wandering mind and anxiety that comes with a few too many stressful meetings. Once finally arriving home he went and plugged his phone in at the charger on the kitchen counter. Lighting up with notification buzzes as it rebooted back to life. 

[ 5 new messages from Lee Minho hyungie]

Immediately cursing himself internally for not bringing his charger with him, he opened his messages from Minho ignoring all others. 

[Lee Minho hyungie]

5:45 pm

Hey Jisungie, just finished up practice!

Actually may or may not have danced to the song u sent…

Maybe I’ll show you some day hehehehehehehehe ;)

7:21 pm

Han Jisung, did you forget your charger again >:/ 

Well I’m off to my late shift, I hope you have a good night~

Jisung always found himself smiling at Minho’s before work texts. They were always so cute. Either some sort of sweet well wishing or some other Minho-esque goodbye, along the lines of “don’t die mysteriously while i'm gone ;p” or “Have a good night, try not to miss my WONDERFUL company too much <3”. (The hearts always made Jisung grin hard, even if they were sarcastic)

This night though, Jisung found him almost jumping in victory at Minho’s text. 

[Lee Minho hyungie]

12:35 am

YOU DANCED TO THE SONG

Really?!?!?!

What did you like about it? 

When can I see????

You better not leave me on read after work!

Jisung tried to imagine what kind of dance Minho would do to the track he sent,and suddenly found himself flush at the thought of watching the other dance. Somehow, watching Minho dance, felt more intimate than any other situation that they’ve shared. Thankfully Minho seemed to want to hold off, so at least of the time being Jisung’s heart was safe. The exhaustion and stress from the day faded ever so slightly as soon as he thought of Minho with coordinating blush to match. 

Jisung you lovestruck fool.

“Jisung! Food’s here!!! If you don't hurry Chan’ll eat your portion again.”

“HEY! It was one time.” Laughter filled the apartment gently as they all respectively fought gravity to get up and make their way to collect the food from the delivery man.  

---

Minho tore up the stairs and through their apartment door as quickly as he could without spilling the carry out food he had in his arms. The clock was ticking a little past midnight and fear set in that the older would miss their planned celebrations. 

Bursting through the door, “Did I beat him?!” The oldest was frazzled from rushing in order to beat their third roommate home from work.

“Barely! I was afraid you wouldn’t make it, with having to bring the carry out.” Hyunjin’s sigh of relief was visible throughout the boy's now relaxed body. He had spent the last ten minutes hoping that they would still be able to pull off their surprise party for the youngest. Pacing around and failing to come up with any backup plans if Minho had been later than Felix. Thankfully for them both, Minho had a way of always being on time. 

“Hey all that matters is I made it. Is everything else ready?” Looking around Minho could see that Hyunjin’s bed was transitioned back into the couch setting and that the floors had been tidied up. A couple stray balloons littered the floor as well as a home made “happy birthday felix” sign hung from their living room screen divider. 

“Yep, I've just been waiting anxiously for you to get home for the past half hour.”

The door handle of their apartment began to jiggle, signaling the two boys to spring into action. Minho setting down the carry out, and Hyunjin frantically lights candles on the small cake on the coffee table. The door swung open, revealing a disheveled after-work Felix wandering through the door. As soon as the boy turned toward their living room, he was accosted with shouts and the flailing limbs of his hyungs. 

“Surprise!!!” “Happy Birthday!!!” 

Felix’s smile erased any of the signs of exhaustion off his face immediately as soon as he spotted his hyungs excited expressions. The cake, the streamers, the balloons, and sign all sparked some joyful tearing of his eyes as he set down his things and made his way to the small cake with a few random lit candles on top. The clock had crossed over into the next day as Felix had made his way home, that he had almost forgotten that it was now technically the early morning hours of his birthday. Coming home to joyful cheers instead of their usual exhausted silence had given him a certain happiness that he hadn’t realized he was missing. 

For all of three of the roommates this was their first time having a celebration in their small home together. By now the sense of home was undeniable and without realizing it all of them had begun to consider each other and their shared 3 room apartment, home. 

The disjointed singing of happy birthday followed by the laughter and conversation surrounded their coffee table as the three enjoyed their small carryout feast and cake. The warmth that their company gave each other lasted well into the night.

“Hyung! It's my birthday, stop eating all the cake!!!” 

“I have no idea what youre talking about Lixie.” Minho says while actively taking another bite of their 2 person sized cake. 

“Hyung!” The laughter of the oldest filled the room followed by the other two’s not too long after.

“Happy Birthday Lixie~” The smile hadn’t left the freckled boys faces since he had sat down, and remained as he pulled his two roommates into a forceful hug. It was his birthday so the boys both submitted to the clingy nature of their third roommate, as always.

---

It was late into the early morning by the time Minho had checked his phone. 

[ 5 new messages from Rich Boy Han Jisung]

A soft pang of guilt hits his chest after reading the younger’s texts and realizing that he did in fact leave the other on read for the better part of the last two hours.  

2:43 am 

I’m so sorry Sungie!

We were celebrating Felix’s birthday, and I didnt check my phone…. 

Look at the cute cake we got him!

{photo attached}

Minho sent the selfie of the three of them with Felix’s cake, if anything just to lessen the guilt in his chest. Hoping that the cuteness of Felix’s smile would be enough to forgive him for low key ghosting him for a few hours. Minho knows that on the days Jisung has the most schedules are the hardest for him mentally, and he always tries his best to be there for him and send him a message or two to lessen the load on those nights. The fact that he hadn’t been there tonight filled him with some worry. A part of him hoped that the younger would’ve been asleep by now but their late night track record did not exactly support that. 

---

Jisung had been lying painfully awake in his bed for an hour when he heard the buzz of his phone. Slightly upset with his body for not giving into the exhaustion he had gathered from the day, and just letting him sleep, he turned to the side table to check the messages. Awake fully ,but only mentally half conscious, he read through his messages:

Minho. Oh, yay, it's Minho.

Felix’s Birthday. Oh right he had mentioned that coming up.

Cute cake. Aw that cake is really cute… wait. 

Birthday.

I have one of those, around this time to- 

I missed my birthday. I forgot my birthday. Everyone forgot.

The cute picture Minho had sent was so filled with happiness that Jisung almost let the pain slide and pass the moment by. But something just didn't feel right in letting himself forget his own birthday. The fact that the others hadn’t remembered didn’t bother him too much. Chan, Changbin, they were all busy with schedules and he can't blame them. Especially since he, himself had forgotten. No birthday text from his family either. Unsurprising though since he rarely got in contact with them since moving to Korea in high school. He forgot though. 

He wasn’t quite sure why this was bothering him so much. Some people don't even celebrate their birthday, or remember how old they are, but Jisung had always prided himself on never letting his work take over entirely who he was. To exhausted-Jisung, he couldn’t help but feel like this was one step toward losing the grip on who he was, and that was in itself, terrifying. 

The coldness of his bed and the dark expanse of his room seemed to only perpetuate the way Jisung felt. Floating, alone, lost. His insecurity was starting to come into focus, and no wonder it had been keeping him up. He had been spiraling for days probably, without even knowing it. The buzz of his phone lit up his face, snapping him out of his own thoughts for a moment. 

[Lee Minho hyungie]

2:50 pm 

You okay Jisung? 

I hope I didn't wake you

Jisung noticed that the app had revealed that he had read the messages and was indeed awake. Unfortunately, exhausted-and--spirling-Jisung was the only one present enough to send a response. Hopefully Minho wouldn’t mind him too much. 

You didn’t wake me, was already up :/ 

It looks really fun hyung

I just realized something too

My birthday was yesterday

I forgot it

Jisung found himself fighting the watering of his eyes as he sent those messages. Why was he crying? He just forgot, he was busy. It was okay. Right? The tears seemed to only cloud his vision more, blocking him from reading the messages from Minho that were buzzing and populating the screen. Not bothering to wipe his eyes, he let them blurr.

Wh- do you- mea- ???

Jis--ng ar- y-- ok--?

I-- sorry i- di-nt -----

---- wa-t --- ca-l?

--sung?

A few moments passed, without him realizing it, as his phone buzzed some more, screen changing to the incoming call screen. Sucking up his tears and drying his damp screen, it took a few tries before answering the call.

---

“Jisung!?” Jisung nearly flinched, just nearly. 

“Hi hyung, How was work?” hoping to cover up his tears by changing the subject. Jisung thought it was a pretty good attempt.

“How wa- what, no. Jisung are you okay?” There it was again. The undeniable worry in Minho’s voice. Ow. 

“Yeah I’m okay.” Despite Jisung’s efforts it was obvious to Minho that the other had in fact been crying. Not wanting to push the younger though, he allowed him to change the subject

“.... okay, I just want to check in on you. I worry you know, Sung!” 

“About me? that's silly hyung.” The distance in his tone replaced Jisung’s usual brightness, and it hurt Minho to hear it. 

“I don't think so. How am I to know what my favorite customer is up to? You may be a soon to be rap star but that doesn’t keep you from ignoring your hyung.” Even though Jisung giggled at that, the irony of the statement wasn’t lost on Minho. A wave of guilt washed over his chest as soon as he said it. 

“I am sorry though. For not answering sooner and everything.” 

And for reminding you of your birthday, and making you cry, and not being there to make you smile.

“No don’t be sorry! That’ll only make me feel worse for bothering you… I think the exhaustion was just making me delirious, I haven't been sleeping well these past few nights.” Minho had to fight his initial protective instincts that told him to scold the younger for not taking care of himself, because a part of him knew that the younger was certainly trying his best to do so. 

“Well if you can’t sleep ever, just call me okay? I’m usually up from my shifts anyway. Plus if I'm not up surely one of my roommates is. Felix will probably never let go of you once he finds your birthday brothers." Hearing Minho's laugh lightened the tight pressure that Jisung hadn't realized had been settled in his chest.

"Okay hyung, i'd like that I think."

"You better. My time rarely comes free, and this is a limited time offer." Jisung’s laugh is a little bit more enthusiastic this time. 

“Of course hyung.” A silence came over them for a moment. Not an awkward one, more of a point of realization and relief. Like the feeling after having a good cry, in Jisung’s case. 

“Happy belated birthday Jisung.” 

“Thanks hyung… Did you have a fun time with Felix?” 

“Yeah! It was actually a lot of fun. Just some carry out and cake after work, but it was good to relax with them. We don't always have free time together, and haven’t had the chance to celebrate anything until now. Hyunnie luckily found a cake on sale at the mart today, sparking this whole thing.” 

Minho remembered the frantic call from the younger as he delved into his plans for giving Felix the “perfect surprise birthday celebration” because he had “found the perfect cake to match Felix’s cuteness.” It was on sale. Also because “Come on Min-hyung Felix would absolutely do the same for us.” Explaining the situation to Jisung really did solidify the fact that Minho knew Felix, would in fact, plan some adorable birthday celebration for the older two if given the opportunity. 

“What would you guys have done if he hadn't found the cake?”

“I’m not sure maybe it would’ve just been a carry-out celebration.”

“Still sounds really nice hyungie. You and your roommates seem so close.” 

“I suppose shared rent does that to people.” Minho laughed it off but he had begun to cherish the brotherly bond that had grown between his roommates. 

Not having ever considered it before, the fact that the roommates were only able to buy a cake because it happened to be on sale, revealed to Jisung that their financial situations may have been farther apart than he realized. Money had never been a barrier that Jisung had to face, always having family (or honestly Changbin) help pay for his living and pursuit of his dreams. Sure he’s had part time jobs in the past but he never found himself worrying about not making enough each month. Not going to university definitely was a large factor in maintaining his “affordable” lifestyle.

“It's nice you do things for each other. I can't remember the last time my hyungs and I have done something together that didn't have to do with our music.” Jisung started to feel some sort of jealousy at the closeness that Minho and his roommate had found in each other. Financial guilt and emotional jealousy are a strange combination for a half conscious Jisung to say the least. 

“Are those fools not taking care of my Sung properly? Illegal, tell them to call me I have to yell at them too. They better not be working you too hard.” 

‘My Sung’ Jisung almost choked. Almost. 

“Nonono Hyung! They take care of me fine, we're all just exhausted with work.”

“Hmmmm okay they get a pass this time, but please relay my threat.”

“Okay okay I will.” 

“You should probably get some rest soon. You're busy tomorrow right?” 

Jisung yawned in response, which was enough convincing for Minho that he needed to rest. 

“Okay looks like it's sleepy time for hardworking Jisung~”

“Wait hyung!” Jisung wasn’t quite ready to sleep yet, even though his body was actively fighting him.

“Yes belated birthday boy?”

“Thank you for not letting me be a sad gremlin all night. It would've been nice to have spent my birthday with you, but you still made me feel better.”

The musings of sleepy Jisung were just about enough to let the fondness burst from Minho’s chest. As much as he continues to hide it, the fondness still seeps into his voice, “Of course, Jisung we always have next year.” A promise he wasn’t sure he could keep but Jisung always made him want to try new things. 

“Next year?” The sleepiness had definitely taken over, making his voice much softer than his usual bright edge. 

“Yes next year... Goodnight Sungie, call me back if you can't sleep okay.”

“Mmkay, G’night hyungie.” Already half asleep by the time he hung up, Minho was glad that the younger was finally able to rest. Glancing at his roommates huddled together on the couch already drifting off, Minho accepted that it was his turn to finally rest knowing that all his younger companions were all safely sleeping. Hyung instincts he supposes.

-----

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

[justlightlysedated]

sugar and spice and everything nice

Michael looks down at the address written on the paper in his hands and sees the name of the bakery written in Isobel's loopy handwriting, and then looks back out of his windshield at the shop he's parked in front of. 

It's nestled between a bookshop and a coffee shop, arguably the best place to be if you're a bakery, especially with the name, Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice.

But the display in front of the window looks like it came out of a spread for the fictional magazine, Witches Brew Weekly, and Michael wonders exactly what kind of cake Isobel had made here.

He also wonders exactly why she's throwing a Happy Divorce Party, but sometimes it's better to not understand the workings of his sister's mind. He goes crazy trying to figure her out on a daily basis.

Michael inhales deeply, and tells himself that looks can be deceiving, prime example being himself and how people react when he tells them that he owns his own flower shop and studied horticulture in college.

He grabs his cowboy hat from where he'd set it on the passenger seat and puts it over his head as he gets out of his truck.

Michael walks towards the bakery, eyeing the display with some more interest as he gets closer.

The spiders crawling all over the cupcakes look too real and are creeping him out a little bit, but there is something oddly charming about the three tiered cake depicting the beheading of Anne Boleyn.

Michael walks in through the door, and jumps a little when there is a creepy haunted mansion style doorbell ringing through the room announcing his presence.

He bites down on the smile that wants to pull at his lips and looks around the place.

The color scheme is all dark, mostly black and white but with dark red and dark purple accents. There are three display cases practically caging in the six small tables with two chairs each, made up of glossy purple wood and black glass panelling one with normal looking breakfast pastries and muffins, the other with a different kinds of cupcakes each depicting a Summer yet halloween based theme, like two ghosts snorkeling or a skeleton tanning, and the last, right in front of double doors that Michael is sure lead to the kitchen with a register perched on top and a few baskets full of what looks like freshly baked bread, and underneath on display through the glass beneath a sign that says, Our Specialty One of a Kind Divorce Cakes, No Two Cakes Will Ever Be the Same, We Guarantee, are an array of cakes that could pass for wedding cakes if it weren't for the terrifying scenarios being depicted.

Before Michael can get any closer to see what he can make out beside the one where it looks like a tiny fondant bride is tossing her tiny fondant husband into a wood chipper, the double doors opens, and a young woman with long dark hair held away from her face by a black visor with the name of the bakery and the skull and crossbones design that is at the front of the store stitched with holographic silver thread on the rim. She's wearing a black apron with the name Rosa stitched in the front with the same holographic silver thread over an outfit that wouldn't be out of place in the middle of a mosh pit. She's carrying a tray of what looks like caramel apples with a little sign that says, If you spend more than 20$ you get me for free! and looks up, mouth open like she's about to say something and she stops, giving him a very obvious once over, before making a face at the cowboy hat.

She still smiles, bright and wide and a little flirty, red lips coming off more like a warning than a beacon, and sets the tray down in the space between the register and the first basket of bread.

"Well, hello there," she says, as she leans against the counter. "Welcome to Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice, where we make all of your not so sweet dreams come true. What can I do for you?"

Michael blinks at her, "Shouldn't it be sweet dreams?"

Rosa's grin turns all teeth and predatory, "If you're in them, then sure."

Michael just smiles shaking his head a little before he tugs out the paper that Isobel had given him.

"I'm here to pick up an order," he says and hands over the paper.

Rosa takes it and reads it quickly before making a face, kind of like the one she made when she saw his hat.

She walks to the double doors and pushes open one of them yelling, "Someone's here to pick up the Ice Queen's order!"

Michael would protest the use of the nickname but he knows it's probably something that Isobel would like.

There is a startled yelp, and then the sound of something metal clattering to the floor, before someone is cursing low and fervently.

Rosa just lets the door fall close and turns back to Michael, "The Chef will be right with you."

Michael nods his head and casts a look around the shop and his gaze is caught by the window display again.

"You design all of these?" He asks looking back at Rosa. She has that air about her that tells him that she's artistic, but she shakes her head.

"No," she says sounding amused. "Most of the designs are Alex's, except for the spider collection. Alex mostly keeps me around because I'm much better at customer service than he is."

"Which really isn't saying much," a dry voice says from the double doors.

Michael turns towards the newcomer and feels almost like he's been hit across the back of the head with a baseball bat.

While he blinks dazed and confused, it's almost like everything is moving in slow motion.

The vision stands for several still seconds right in front of the door, being illuminated by the light coming from the kitchen, making his messy hair that is sticking up all over the place, kind of glow golden like he has a halo. He's wearing the same visor and apron as Rosa, but his apron is covered in flour and butter and chocolate and what looks like food coloring. Alex is stitched in the upper right corner of his apron in a rainbow colored thread.

That combined with the dark, dark eyes that seemed like they could swallow Michael whole and he would enjoy every minute of it, and the luscious full mouth, that purses into an annoyed expression the longer that Michael stares at him, makes him consider the warmth jolt in his stomach with the utmost seriousness.

He turns to Rosa to say something, turning his back to Michael and Michael's gaze drops right to check out his ass, and it's almost too good to be true.

Michael feels the hot bolt of attraction and the gooey warmth in his stomach combine to conspire against him.

He has the brief and totally insane thought of what flowers they'll have at their wedding and if they would be in season, before he snaps himself out of it and looks into Alex's narrowed pissed eyes and realizes that maybe the whole slow motion thing had been in his head and smiles as apologetic and charming as he can.

"So sorry," he says. "I kind of spaced there for a second. What were you saying?"

His eyes dart over to Rosa who looks entirely too amused, so he probably hasn't fucked up beyond repair.

Not that there is anything to fuck up.

Alex clears his throat pointedly, and Michael looks over to him immediately. 

Alex's brow is still furrowed, but he seems to be more confused than angry.

He inhales deeply like he's steeling himself and then moves to the side and Michael sees that while he'd been busy committing Alex to memory, they'd brought out a rolling stand with a huge open white cake box, the name and logo of the bakery stamped on the side, the cover is propped open so that the cake fits and there is what looks like a black veil covering the cake from view, and Michael's curiosity peaks, overwhelming the stupefying feeling of attraction, and he leans forward, on the only empty space on top of the counter.

Alex's brow furrows even more, but he just takes a deep breath and lifts the veil over the cake.

Michael has a moment where he thinks that he's been transported to a gallery, because what Alex unveils could very easily be mistaken for a painting.

"Isobel wants you to take a picture even though I already uploaded the time lapse video on the shop's Instagram-"

"Is that a replica of Judith beheading Holofernes but with my sister?" Michael interrupts him leaning even closer, trying to get as close a look as possible.

The cake is three tiered and covered in white icing, with a pillow and pearl buttons design, that Michael remembers from the wedding cake that Isobel had when she married Noah, five years ago, seemingly bursting out of the cake, is the bloody scene, depicted in some kind of frosting or fondant, tiny Isobel with her knee right on tiny Noah's chest, one hand in his hair, holding his head at an angle that exposes his neck and the other holding the hilt of the sword, as she slices through. There is realistic looking blood, and Isobel and Noah are very recognizable, and it's literally the most amazing thing that Michael has ever seen in his life.

He looks up at Alex, who blinks twice at him before speaking.

"Yes," he says shortly, bordering on defensive. "I talked with your sister and she told me her story while I sketched out some ideas, and afterwards she chose her favorite."

Michael just exhales and wonders if it would be creepy to tell someone that he just met that he thinks he's in love with him.

"It's one of the most-" Michael starts and stops looking for a word to say, and Alex just sighs, like he's tired and cuts him off.

"Disturbing things you've ever seen?" He says, a little mockingly making air quotes and rolling his eyes.

Michael's complete attention focuses on Alex's fingers, long and pale and strong and covered in rings silver and black, and several bandages.

Michael stares obviously enough that Alex fidgets a little, looking at his hands and scoffing.

"Don't worry," he says dead pan. "It's not my blood. I only save the blood sacrifices for when I'm making pastry."

Michael laughs, a startled burst of giggles that he can't seem to really control, and Alex freezes completely on the other side of the counter, not moving, barely even breathing.

"I was actually going to say, it's one of the most amazing things I've ever seen in my life," Michael says and sincerely as he can.

Alex just stares at Michael with wide eyes, and he looks a little panicked and like he really needs to bail the scene, but as he turns to Rosa, Rosa turns away, heading towards the entrance.

"I'm taking my fifteen minute break," she says.

Alex opens his mouth, and Rosa cuts him off as she pulls her phone out of her pocket.

"Yes, I'll get you the French vanilla iced latte."

He makes another attempt to say something, but the doorbell rings out again, and this time Michael lets  the smile take over his face.

When he turns back to look at Alex, Alex is staring at him with a furrowed brow.

Michael licks his lips, but before he can say anything, Alex is speaking.

"The amount pending is 60$," he says, and moves towards the register, pulling a receipt notebook from a pocket hanging beside the register and starts to write out the receipt.

Michael pulls out the money that Isobel had given him, the amount due plus a large tip.

Michael leaves the money on the counter, and pulls his phone out of his pocket to take a picture of the cake.

He sends it to Isobel and she immediately responds with a bunch of excited and happy emojis, and a text demanding that he hurry up and get back to her place.

Michael slides his phone back in his pocket without answering her, and turns to Alex who is counting the money and putting it inside of the register before he tears Michael's copy of the receipt off the notebook and hands it to him.

Michael takes the receipt and before Alex can say anything else, his eyes fall on the caramel apples with the sign that Rosa had set down earlier.

"Does that mean I get one of those?" He asks pointing at the apples.

Alex purses his mouth and gives him a look.

Before he sighs and looks down at the apples.

"I like experimenting with flavors in my baking and sometimes it works really well, but most of the time it's a disaster. I still test them out on customers to see if they like them."

Michael nods his head slowly, "So the apple is the experiment you're testing today?"

Alex smiles, a quick brief thing that Michael almost misses, before he grabs one of the plastic cake knives from a jar full of them, and a small white ceramic plate.

He lifts one of the apples on to the plate, using the side of the knife, and then sets the plate down in front of Michael.

He takes the knife and places the edge right by the wooden stick.

He pushes the knife down, and Michael expects resistance, so he's surprised when the plastic knife just falls straight through, cutting the apple in half easily, only a slight crunch towards the bottom.

He parts the two halves and pushes one aside and then starts to speak again.

Michael looks away from the interesting layers of mousse and jelly and cookie, and looks at Alex and then can't find himself able to look away.

"It's a dark chocolate mousse sitting on top of a layer of hot mint jelly and a shortbread cookie infused with jalapeños and lime, shaped into a sphere and covered in a shiny red mirror glaze," he says, pointing out every layer with a finger, and looking so animated that he almost seemed like a different person.

"I'm calling it the Poison Apple. The idea behind the flavors is that they'll balance each other out, and I really like a little bit of heat in my desserts, something that I became fond of when I was overseas. But it's not exactly everyone's cup of tea."

He looks up straight into Michael's eyes and stops talking.

Michael licks his lips and looks down at the dessert. 

"That actually sounds awesome," he says honestly, before he looks back up at Alex who flinches a little like he got caught doing something he shouldn't.

Michael just smiles as reassuringly as possible and asks, "Can I have a fork?"

Alex stares at him for another long moment before he reaches down beneath the counter and pulls out a silver fork, and hands it over to Michael, who takes it smiling at Alex, who continues to look at Michael suspiciously like he's expecting something bad to happen at any moment.

Michael just pulls the plate closer and tries a forkful, making sure to get a little bit of everything, and he barely hesitates as he takes the bite. 

The flavors explode on Michael's tongue one after the other starting with the slightly bitter chocolate and then a sharp burst of lemon and the heat coming from the shortbread before there is a soothing coolness coming from the jelly, and Michael doesn't really understand it and he never in a million years would've thought that the flavors would go together, but it actually works.

"Wow," he says and looks at Alex who is just blinking at him like Michael is being confusing. "It's amazing."

He can't help but sound awed. He hadn't really expected it to taste as good as it did, and he wonders how much of it is due to the fact that Alex was the one who made it.

Michael eats most of the case, knowing he's making the most ridiculous faces, but every time it hits him different.

Alex just continues to stare at him, gaze intense, and Michael finds that he really likes it.

He looks up at Alex then, and Alex is licking across his bottom lip, and Michael feels a pulse of heat go straight down the back of his neck, and he doesn't think that he's ever wanted anyone the way that he wants him, right now, but he also doesn't think that he's wanted to keep someone as much as well.

Before Michael can make any decision, Rosa is moving behind the counter, and Michael's gaze falls on her, and he wonders how long she'd been watching.

The knowing smirk on her face tells him that it was long enough.

Alex jumps back, startled and he looks from Michael to Rosa before he grabs the coffee in her hands and walks straight through the double doors not even looking back.

Michael sets the fork down slowly and he looks at Rosa, who gives him a sympathetic smile, before she motions towards the cake with her chin. "Need some help with that?"

Michael nods his head, and Rosa covers the cake back up.

Together they get it secure to the back of the truck and Michael promises that he'll drive slow.

Rosa turns to walk towards the bakery and then she turns back to Michael.

"Look," she says, a protective edge to her voice."You seem like a nice guy, and you obviously speak Alex, but Alex has been through a lot, and if you're just messing with him-"

"I like him," Michael blurts out, and rubs the back of his neck when Rosa looks at him, feeling a little embarrassed as he looks away from her. "I like him a lot. It actually feels a little insane how much."

"Good," she says and Michael's gaze snaps back to her.

"You gotta be a little insane to try and date Alex," she says, shrugging a little as she turns back towards the bakery. "He's really fucking weird."

And with that and a cheerful see you soon that she shouts from the open doorway, almost getting drowned out by the doorbell.

Michael shakes his head and gets into his car.

Something crinkles as he sits and he pulls the piece of paper from beneath his thigh and looks at the address for the bakery.

He's almost completely sure that he'll remember the way to get back here even without an address, but he pulls his phone out and saves the address in his contacts. 

A pop up appears asking him if he wants to add sugarandspice on instagram, and he clicks yes, and starts the truck.

His phone buzzes with a notification and he smiles when he sees rosa.zombie. is now following you.

He pulls away from the curb and finds his head full of thoughts that are entirely premature, but he can't exactly help himself. 

He wonders if Alex will accept edible flowers and potted herbs in exchange for taste testing more of his flavor experiments.

*

The picture posted on Rosa's instagram before seven in the morning is of Michael eating one of the mousse cakes disguised as a caramel apple with a rapturous look on his face, and Alex is staring at him like he's confused and absolutely flabbergasted.

The caption for the picture is:

rosa.zombie. he is eating one of @manelydead's super special recipes. obviously, he's an alien.

Followed by the following comment thread almost immediately after posting:

lizziethestrange HOLYSHIT!!!

delucastyle holy shit

valentimcsexy hoLY SHIT

iamcamiam holy shit

manelydead Don't any of you assholes sleep in???

guerinsflowers @manelydead 😉😉😉

intergalacticbitch @guerinsflowers you fucking better not!

[michael-weinstein]

Leave me alone!

WARNING: This post is a venting-out of boiling anger, which can amount to mental illness. Maybe not for those weak of heart, but for sure for those who caused me so much anxiety, and contrarily, those who want to help me out of this. As for everyone else, read and suffer.

Well, corona, the world is practically on fire, and what else... Oh yes. Things in the relatively more intimate world (that is, for me) - namely, school, my followings on Instagram, YouTube and email subscriptions - keep bothering me to an incredible extent. I was wanting to write this blog post since March honestly, but I didn't find the time and the need to vent everything out. Now, though, that I am really mad, I'm somewhat thankful for the opportunity, because I'm making my opinions known, and merely hoping that they get more circulation than before.

My main classical music following had been Deutsche Grammophon and Decca (through email and Instagram, and - in the case of the latter - 2 YouTube channel subscriptions), the Berlin and Vienna Philharmonic Orchestras (Instagram), Norman Lebrecht's Slipped Disc (email) and the ClassicsToday.com editor David Hurwitz (YouTube viewing). All of the following had, to a certain extent, drive me insane in the past few months, in ways that I can't describe (one time with Hurwitz, it was so much so I needed to vent my anger in this very outlet). To a certain extent, for those who remember, the same happened with the Mahler Foundation in May, but since writing that post, I've come to realize that not only this is pretty much not important (at least much less than it seemed at the time), there are far worse issues that I'll need to address (I won't yet, perhaps to get more reading and get the image fixed, but I'm hoping I will address this important issue relatively soon). My great bane with the BPO and VPO, but especially with DG, came around the time of the Salzburg Festival in August, which was itself a bane all by itself, but by having these 3 leading musical institutions being an important part of the Festival just made me go bonkers. I don't really had a problem with the Festival being held at the time, when corona cases where relatively low, as long as the Festival was being sensitive, and did things on a much smaller scale as they had said at the beginning that they would. But the moment that they do Elektra and Mahler's 6th, whatever social distancing there would occur in the audience, with so many people onstage and/or in the pit, they're just calling for trouble. It is indeed something of a miracle that there were no casualties during the Festival, but I really think it would have been smarter not to take the risk, whatever the need for culture (besides, probably only those who would attend are those who are "jet-set" and are in Salzburg every year for the wrong reasons, but I will maybe discuss that sometime). The Vienna Philharmonic were therefore one of the major partners in the crime, more so than their Berliner counterparts. But, and this is the important part, I would very much in my hoped-for career as probable pianist and maybe composer, but most as conductor, want to collaborate with the Berliners and the Viennese. They are orchestras that I maybe don't need, but I do want to make music with. The same thing can't really be said for Decca and, more importantly, DG. Interestingly, Decca almost seems dead in the way that they rarely post on Instagram, sent a newsletter or upload on YouTube, while DG is excessive beyond normal human standards. I think they post on Instagram averagely 3 times a day, upload on YouTube twice, and send a newsletter each weekend. How the hell can you bear such a thing?! There are more adventurous labels with pretty "big names" (Alpha, Chandos and Hyperion, to name just three), that I would feel more comfortable to record with, than DG, Decca and probably also Warner (I don't follow them anywhere, which is probably just as good, considering the pervious sentences).

In addition, throughout the Festival the Karajan institue also helped to bring in their own click-baiting and "martyring" of their namesake. My attitude to Karajan as man and conductor is more mixed than it was in the past (most of which can be attributed to Lebrecht), but ever since then they made me emotionally sick with statements to the effect that Karajan was the greatest conductor ever. I have to admit that I'm much more of a Bernstein fan, and that I had barely listened to Karajan recently, but the Bernstein Offices never, apart from the centenary, did interviews of the Karajan kind, and even I'm going to admit that some Bernstein interpretations are less well than some others, maybe even than Karajan's!

So now with the Salzburg band-wagoning out of the way, there are two other culprits: Hurwitz and Lebrecht. I've encountered Hurwitz fairly recently, and I should add, that I have rather mixed relations towards him. One day in the morning, I see a video he uploaded and it makes me absolutely mad (see the link above), and then in the evening he uploads a humorous roast with which I completely agree. But generally, I'm just mixed with him. My relation to Lebrecht is also mixed, though generally positive. He has just finished a survey of most of Beethoven's output. However, his behavior regarding the "Schenker storms" is either complete misunderstanding or just outright conservative foolery.

There are 2 other "classical music" personalities which I have to mention. My relation with Mark Berry is very mixed, but he hasn't bothered me as much since March, as the main activity on his blog Boulezian (shows pretty much where he is heading) is concert and opera reviews, and he didn't have much of a chance to that, so I'm thankful for that. I will give him credit though that he is actually one of 2 people whose blogs gave me the impetus to start mine.

The other one is the other "classical music" personality I want to talk about briefly, Kenneth Woods. He is music director of the Colorado MahlerFest, the English Symphony Orchestra, and writer for his blog View from the Podium. I like him very much, as I share a lot of his musical affinities - Mahler and Shostakovich, to begin with - as well as professional insights into music of (among many others) Strauss and - perhaps more importantly from an interpetive point of view these days - Beethoven. I kind of just happen to agree with many of his opinions, and even those which I didn't think of before, I agree with them because they make sense to me. I think that the reason he appeals to me, is because he's a conductor and a cellist (also used to be a guitarist, and does it in his free time!). With the exception of Hurwitz, who was a percussionist in local orchestras, everyone else I mentioned above are scholar-critics. Woods appeals to me because he's a practical musician (and he keeps a rule not to talk about any living conductors, or at least not mentioning them by name). He was an orchestral cellist, as well as a soloist and chamber music partner as well, so he experiences the actual music world of making music from both sides, as cellist and conductor. Hurwitz, Lebrecht and Berry all might have interesting observations, but their ultimate test is in the performance lab, and that is why I like Woods so much.

So far, I've dealt with classical music's personalities and industry. Now I have to deal with my friends and other Instagram followings. It's more irritating, because even though they are dishonest like the "establishment-industry", they are closer in my world in a sense. Yom Kippur was recently, and I can still remember everyone around just going "I'm sorry, God" and all the other standard things one says before Yom Kippur. WHO THE HELL ARE YOU KIDDING!!! Everyone, especially yourselves, know that we promise never to do these things again, and barely an hour has passed since Yom Kippur is out, and we come back to do those things again. Every year it happens. Everyone knows it, it is simply an open secret that nobody either needs or wants to say. I say the same on myself, by the way. Yom Kippur is a complete lie for us, because neither me, you, and even the most just and Mitzvah-keeping person on Earth, are able to keep the promises that we will get better than this. It never happens. Why do we get flodded with this? It's absolutely no worth. You say that you're "sorry about the way I insulted you"? Complete rubbish. Unless you found out that the entire situation was so stupid you can laugh about it, nobody is sorry about anything they said. The king is naked, and as the meme says, "always has been".

My classmates start growing on my nerves sometimes. The way people just ask for answers so immediately and lazily, without having tried to answer things themselves just makes me go mad. I don't have a problem if they try to do it, or if they're in a rush at the last moment, and ask some guys for answers. But when as soon as the assignment is sent, they ask for someone to do the job for practically 10 other classmates (if not more!), that's too annoying.

My teachers, however, go on a different way of making my life difficult. They don't really annoy me by poking their selfish faces at me as much as expecting me to do everything perfectly. Even those who are kinder (in a sense, since I'm one of the good boys, so kinder practically means that they teach better or are more interesting) make me mad. There are only 2 teachers (another comes close) in the entire school I'm able not only to appreciate, but also to love learning with them. Fortunately, one of them is my homeroom teacher. Without these few teachers, I wouldn't care about school at all. It could just go to hell. We currently have a shutdown, but I still remember a few weeks ago that during a math class, I needed to read my score of Shostakovich's 4th just to keep myself from making my mental health even worse than it was (and probably still is). And even during shutdown, things are not improving. Zoom calls were to be a complete waste of time, were it not for my piano lessons and (sometimes) therapist sessions. History class is especially badly taught. The teacher of that class is of the kind of "the smaller the group - the better", because when I was with her in smaller groups she truly was better. Mind you, I'm the nerd guy who loves history (though I'm probably not the only one in our class), and she managed to make history boring. That's a complete failure. Sports class is a complete waste of time in ways I can't really describe. You can only feel it.

I have though been somewhat fortunate since May and June. Because of my critique of the Mahler Foundation and its online Festival, I've got in touch with a 8th-grader (they/them) from Canada, an a college sophomore in English literature from Florida. We three formed an online gang of just us, getting together on the basis of our love for Mahler and Shostakovich. With their advice, having understood that I will need some really fitting music to get me through the year, I've decided that I will listen on my way to and back from school, as well as during breaks, to listen to nothing but Shostakovich. That plan sort of fell through pretty quickly (by which I mean, only 3 days), but Shostakovich was a great part of my phone repertoire in these first 3 weeks of the school-year. In the last week, however, Henze's Fantasia for Strings took over, and it was somewhat fitting, given that the music began its life as Henze's score for Young Törless, an adaptation of the novel by the fairly similar name of Robert Musil, by Volker Schlöndorff (his directorial debut). These two, the 8th-grader and the sophomore, are practically my main lights these times, when we sometimes meet for a call on Discord at night.

However, these few lights are still engulfed by the complete darkness and hypocrisy that surrounds me now. I've had enough! My complaints go out now especially to the education system in this country which is just reacting horribly to the situation! I can simply go crazy from that! All the Instagram personalities, do me a favor, and please do consider those who are probably less well mentally than you are, and stop showing the way you're enjoying yourselves in pools and parties. And cut the "no filter" crap! If something would have really been with no filter, it would be ordinary and dull. To quote Alex Ross, who in turn paraphrases Nietzsche, I'm done with "the lie of the grand style". Less Wagner (in his conservative bits) and his idiotic imitators, Brahms, Mendelssohn, and all those who thought that music stopped with Beethoven, more Mussorgsky, Scriabin, Schoenberg, Berg, Webern, Satie, Stravinsky, Bartok, Shostakovich, Weill, Hindemith, Weinberg, Bernstein, Britten, Nono, Berio, Henze, Messiaen, Lutoslawski, Ligeti, Penderecki, Schnittke, even Boulez and Cage. And please do more meaningful Bach, Vivaldi, Mozart, Haydn, Beethoven, Schubert, Schumann, Berlioz, Liszt, Bruckner, Tchaikovsky, Mahler, Richard Strauss, Debussy, Ravel and Sibelius.

(Quick sidenote: I have to admit, that this post was written in turns, I wasn't commited to write it. Sometimes I got super angry and vented.)

A few days ago, my sophomore friend sent me a link to a Discord server, where she, the 8th-grader and a couple other friends were part of, and asked me if I would join in. I said I would join gladly. This is my first Discord server, and therefore I've got 4 other friends. This is where I feel at home, where I belong (not in terms of family, thank God, but in terms of friends). I really do prefer being with them than with my classmates.

Our educational system is either a joke, or a gulag. What is the point to have being taught the material on Zoom, for averagely 6 and a half hours a day, 5 days a week, and putting even more workload on us than we had been in school physically, and even more than when we studied online from March to June! And then they expect us to ace through the final exams that we have in the next 2 years! Once in the past few months, I've once wondered about a question: would I prefer to ace my exams, but thereafter being so mentally and emotionally shocked that I will need psychaitric treatment? Or should I not do them at all, but still being able to do what I love doing and be happy with myself? After thinking about it for several seconds, I answered that I would prefer the latter, and ever since then I've been saying this to certain people around me unhesitatingly.

Leave me alone! I'm not able to cope with all of this! I'm feeling so empty, I don't even want to eat a whole ton, sleep a lot, or even die! I'm just empty! I'm barely able to play the piano (that is mentally), I just get tired of it almost immediately! I don't want this to happen! Everything loses its appeal to me!

Over the past few weeks, I've come to know Shostakovich's 8th String Quartet, one of the most autobiographical and depressive pieces ever written. It was composed in 1960, when he had just returned from bombed-out Dresden, where there was a movie filmed about the last days of World War II to which Shostakovich composed the music, but more importantly, it was not long after he had suddenly joined the Soviet Communist Party (probably forced to). These 20 minutes of the quartet feature throughout a musical motif - the pitches D, E-flat, C, B-natural. In German notation they are D, S (in German it's actually Es, but the pronounciation is the same), C, H (B is used in German for B-flat). The composer's name, as rendered in German is: Dmitri Schostakowitsch. This is not the first time he has been consciously using this motif (he had already been doing so for nearly a decade), but this is the most extensive use he has ever made of it. It's as if he is obsessed with himself. Shostakovich, as a result of joining the party, was obsessed with suicide, and most of his works from there on consider death, in a way he rarely did previously, death for completely fatalistic reasons, nothing to do with the authorities. The 15th String Quartet, his last, is even bleaker.

The basic point is that ever since I came to know this piece and the school year started, I've used the slogan DSCH as a symbol of protest. I can still remember having half-done math homework, and before scanning them and sending, I scribbled DSCH clearly and furiously across the top of the first page.

The last movement of Shostakovich's 8th String Quartet, a slow fugue on a theme beginning with the DSCH motif, is the movement in which Shostakovich seems to obsessed with this motif the most. And all I can say is that for the past two months, if not even more, I've been wanting to just say "Leave me alone!" for eternity, like DSCH in that movement. Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone....leave me alone...leave me alone....leave me alone....leave me alone.....leave me alone..... leave me alone..... leave me alone..... leave me alone....... leave........... me.......... alone......... leave......... me........ alone....... leave....... me....... alone............ leave............ me............. alone................ leave.............................. me.............................. alone..............................

leave me alone

[beesloosewithcanon]

Fictober2019

Thank you, nonny for the prompt submission! 

I’ll admit - I was half tempted to just write smut for this. BUT - the next part to my Close to You series will be preeeetty smutty. So have a Korrasami Bikini Barista AU scene, instead! (I live in a USA State where there are drive-through coffee stands where the baristas wear string bikinis. It’s a thing I didn’t know existed until I moved here almost three years ago now.) It’s over 4k words. I’ve put a “keep reading” line so I won’t bog down your feed.

If you’re interested in seeing a writing drabble from me for a specific f/f pairing, look at this post and let me know which you’d like to see! (I currently write in Dragon Age, Mass Effect, and Avatar Legend of Korra; I’d be open to also delve into the following fandoms – Avatar the Last Airbender, Overwatch, Stardew Valley, to name a few).

Prompt #8 – “Can you stay?”

Fanfiction – Avatar: Legend of Korra

Pairing – Korra & Asami

***

Asami pulled off her sweater in a fluid motion, tossing it towards her discarded leggings. She looked at the window and then back to Korra, a plea of urgency radiated from her bright green eyes bore straight into Korra’s soul. 

“Can you stay?” she pleaded, emphasized by the way she bit the corner of her lip. “Please?”

Korra swallowed hard and her hand missed the handle of her trusty hand truck, causing her to flail slightly before regaining her balance. She’d already dropped off her delivery and would normally bid the barista a good day and be on her way to her next delivery stop. Korra both loved and hated this particular stop - it was Perky’s Beans, the only bikini barista stand on her delivery route. She loved it because the deliveries were often small and quick, allowing her to keep her day moving; she hated it because it made her feel like a cringy pervert. 

The word bikini wasn’t the right term, as the “uniform” the women had to wear were little more than a string and three minuscule triangles of fabric, one over either nipple and the third covering the apex between their legs. So she usually made her delivery as quick as possible so she didn’t ogle the women working; they had enough of that from the men coming through the drive-through. They didn’t need it from the supposed professional who delivered the milk products.

Lately, the same barista, Asami, was the one working when Korra came by for her twice-weekly delivery. Every morning, Asami greeted her with a warm smile and was always still clothed when Korra arrived, usually in loose off the shoulder sweaters and leggings, as she didn’t don her uniform until the stand opened at 6 AM. Korra usually got there around 5:45 and rarely was there longer than ten minutes, considering the delivery itself usually fit on one trip with her hand truck. But she always took the time to actually unload the products and take the empty crates so the baristas didn’t have to worry about storing them in the small confines of the coffee stand. 

Most of the other baristas simply ignored her while she worked which kept the deliveries quick. Asami, on the other hand, always struck up a conversation with her while she was readying the stand to open. It went from being one of her most dreaded stops to her favorite as she got to know Asami over their short conversations, and would try to get there earlier and earlier every time so she could have more time to talk with the woman. She knew it wasn’t professional, but there was just something about her that Korra couldn’t ignore. 

“Please? This customer always gives me the creeps,” Asami continued to plea. 

Korra glanced out the window and saw a large red truck with a suspension rig that made it almost as tall as her delivery truck. She’d seen the truck here every morning as she was leaving. In fact, Korra couldn’t recall ever seeing a different vehicle to be the first to queue up at the stand in the morning.

“Y-yeah,” Korra stammered. “Of course I’ll hang out. I’m running early on my route anyway and have some time to spare,” she fibbed. She was actually already running late, considering her co-worker Bolin had called out for the second day in a row and she had been given extra deliveries to help compensate for his route being unattended to yesterday. She was only on her fourth stop of the morning when she should have been on her sixth. But she couldn’t find it in herself to say no to this woman. 

“Oh, thank you!” the barista said as she moved forward and took one of Korra’s hands in hers, squeezing tightly as she smiled. The movement brought her breasts together and Korra made a distinct point to look up at her face and not at her barely covered body.

Really, the strings left nothing to the imagination. 

The barista’s smile lingered as she let go. She moved away, pulling a hair tie from her wrist and tied her hair up in a high ponytail, situating herself in front of a small mirror in the back of the coffee stand near where Korra stood. 

What Korra liked about this particular barista was that she stayed clothed as long as possible before she opened the stall. It wasn’t that Korra was a prude, but being around women in barely anything this early in the morning always made her feel like she was invading their privacy. Especially with how close she had to be in the small confines of the coffee stand to get her deliveries put away. She wanted to be a professional and treat the women in the coffee stand like she did her other, fully clothed delivery customers, but she was always averting her eyes and feeling uncomfortable and had learned to simply complete this particular stop as quickly as possible. 

But this barista was different; she’d never actually seen her in her work uniform before and it honestly was more than Korra felt she could handle. The woman had supple curves that paired with her somewhat athletic build. The woman was toned, but Korra was unsure what sport she played to gain her physique, but it was a physique that made her hot under her collar. 

She was glad Asami was focused on getting ready for the day instead of trying to keep talking to her at that moment, as Korra knew she would have fumbled over every syllable that came out of her mouth. She knew she needed to look away. The barista had asked her to stay because a customer was a giant creep. And here she was, staring, unmoving while her mind raced with how goddamn attractive Asami was.

It definitely wasn’t the first time she’d found her attractive. Not by a long shot. Korra had been attracted to her the first time she’d seen her in leggings, a holey sweater, and a messy bun. Her smile was what got her - the genuine way her mouth moved as her teeth shone whenever she saw Korra come into the small stand with her delivery. The way her voice sounded when she asked how she was doing or what was new. She was an effortless kind of beauty. Korra was convinced the woman could have been in front of her in stained pajamas and no makeup and she would still be utterly flustered by her mere presence. 

She bit her lips between her teeth and moved forward. If she was going to be a buffer between Asami and the creepy customer, then she needed to at least look like she belonged in the space. So she moved and knelt in front of the milk fridge and loaded some milk jugs back into the crates she’d just uploaded them from.

She then heard the drive-through window open but decidedly stayed staring at the jugs of milk in front of her. If she looked up, all she would see was Asami’s ass with literally nothing covering it. She gulped and looked sideways - she was too curious not to look.

Asami had put on heels, too, and stood leaning slightly towards the window of the drive-through. The position put her legs, her impressively sculpted calves, thighs, and rear on perfect display. 

“G’morning, Shin. Same as usual?” Asami asked brightly. 

The tone took Korra by surprise and she forced herself to look back at what she was doing. Asami’s chipper tone sounded fake and so unnaturally forced that she was surprised that the customer didn’t pick up on it. 

“Oh, you know it, babycakes.”

Korra gagged to herself. The man’s voice practically dripped with slime. 

“Coming right up!” Asami said and turned around, spinning on the ball of her impressive heels. Korra chanced a look upward and Asami looked like she was withholding an eye-roll. 

“Just let me know if you need me to pop up,” Korra whispered. 

Asami nodded and mouthed thank you before she reached for a cup and then poured ice into it. Korra watched curiously as she pretended to fuss with the contents in the refrigerator while Asami made what looked like an energy drink mixer. Korra eyed the cup as Asami worked.

Why the hell did this guy get up at the crack of dawn every morning to go to a coffee stand for an energy drink? There were cheaper options for caffeine in the morning. But when Korra looked and saw the man’s expression as he watched Asami work, it was clear as day - he came to ogle the women working. His eyes roved shamelessly up and down her body, not even noticing Korra herself. He kept licking his bottom lip and nodding to himself as if he was approving of something.

Korra had the immediate urge to punch him. But she ground her teeth and looked back at her full crates of milk.

“Y’know what would make my day, baby doll?” he asked.

Korra glanced up and saw Asami subtly clench her fist as she reached for a syrup. “What’s that, Shin?”

“If you let me take a picture of you.”

“Shin, you know the rules,” Asami said, her tone fakely flirtatious and sweet but Korra heard past it to hear the annoyance. She then brought a slender finger up to a sign on the window as she mixed the drink with her other hand. “No pictures.”

“Awe, c’mon sweetcheeks. Just for me? I am your favorite customer,” the man said as leaned more against his arm that was perched on his door as he offered his card.  

Korra did her best not to fume. She wanted to help but wasn’t sure how to. She watched as Asami grabbed his card and moved to the register to ring him out, Shin now looking at her chest.

But then an idea shot through her head. She just hoped that Asami would play along. 

“Aw,” she said as she stood, lifting a crate of milk in either hand as she faced the window, doing everything she could to show off her arm muscles. Each crate held four one-gallon jugs of milk, which roughly calculated to be about 35 pounds in each hand. Korra did reps of 50-pound bicep curls at the gym and lifting the crates was effortless. She was thankful for the polo that she had to wear as a part of her uniform, as they were fitted to her arms and made it easier to show off her muscles. “I thought I was your favorite customer?” she said in what she hoped to be a flirty pouty voice. Acting wasn’t something she was good at. But she was willing to give it a whirl to keep this guy from making Asami feel even more uncomfortable. 

Without missing a beat, Asami looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Babe, you know you are,” she said flirtatiously. “And always my first customer of the day,” she added, her voice heady and suggestive. Korra didn’t hear any sound of annoyance, but she did see the thankful look on her face change to one of surprise when she fully looked at Korra, her eyes lingering on her arms. 

Korra might have imagined it, but she was sure that Asami bit her lip. But she definitely imagined it. And even if she hadn’t, she was probably just playing it up for Shin. Especially with how her tone fluctuated when she said first customer of the day - the sexual innuendo wasn’t lost on Korra, nor apparently Shin when Korra glanced at him and he flattened his back to his car seat. 

Korra offered the barista a wink and blew her a kiss, trying to play up her impromptu role before making eye contact with the sleazy man in the window. He looked shocked and leaned further away from the window, his eyes looking anywhere but Asami. She then smiled to herself and bent down and began returning the milk to the refrigerator. 

“Oh,” Shin said from the takeaway window, clearing his throat. “Didn’t know you was taken, pretty lady.”

Asami handed him out his card and his drink. “I’ve told you a dozen times that I’m taken,” she said flatly, not trying to maintain her mandatory flirtatious attitude anymore.

“Well, some girls lie about it, y’know? Rather pretend they have a boyfriend than test the waters with a guy who's interested.” 

Asami shrugged. “I have no idea why women would lie about such a trivial thing,” Asami said, playing up the innocent naivete in her tone but Korra read the bitter sarcasm loud and clear. Shin just gave her an awkward smile and a nod, raising his cup to her before revving his engine and driving off. 

“Well he’s grade A gross,” Korra said as she stood from the milk fridge.

Asami turned around and made direct eye contact with Korra. “I know, right?” She shook her head, the tips of her dark black hair brushing across her shoulders. “If I wasn’t working and had to be nice to him, I would have handled him a long time ago. But here… I have to be miss perky peppy flirtatious airhead.” Asami articulated the last four words with a tilt to her head to either side before she stopped and rolled her eyes. 

Korra frowned, leaning her hip against the counter of the coffee bar and crossing her arms loosely over her stomach. She looked out the window and saw that there weren’t any other cars queuing up yet. 

“They why work here?” she asked, genuinely curious what a woman like Asami was doing here. 

“Because I have to pay for my engineering degree somehow.” She shrugged, setting an empty coffee cup down as she looked through her syrups.

Korra’s frown deepened when Asami wouldn’t look at her as she focused on finding a specific syrup, making her worried that she’d offended her. But before she could begin to articulate her apology, Asami continued.

“Despite how gross some of the people who come through here are,” Asami continued as she pulled two different syrups out and pumped them into the cup. “I make good money doing it. And when it’s slow I can work on my homework. The work is mindless enough that it doesn't interfere with my mental energy that I need for school. So, it works for now.” She then flashed a quick smile towards Korra. “Besides, not everyone who comes through here is all that bad. I have one regular that I really actually quite like.”

“That totally makes sense,” Korra said. “The, uh, money for school bit, I mean.”

Shit. There she went, stammering like an idiot. Of course, there was some cute guy who came through here that she liked. Or maybe she was referring to her boyfriend.

Asami pivoted, her heels scuffing quietly on the wooden floors. She took a few steps, walking directly towards Korra. Her throat felt stuck. Despite being here for the last few minutes while she worked, she had tried ignored the fact that Asami was practically naked in front of her. But now that she was actively walking towards her, she got the full view of how her hips swayed when she walked and how each curve of her body lead into the next. It was impossible not to watch.

The woman was a goddess. And Korra was a mere peasant, unworthy of looking upon her. 

Korra’s collar began to feel uncomfortable when Asami reached out and placed one of her hands gently on Korra’s hip while the other one moved past her. “I need to get in here, babe,” she teased with a wink as she then opened the door to the milk fridge, letting it bump into Korra’s backside. 

Korra finally swallowed but felt the heat of her collar spread up and over her cheeks. “Yeah, yeah of course. Sorry!” and she practically hopped to the side so Asami could work. 

Asami laughed, which caused a whole new sensation to sweep over Korra’s senses. The barista’s laugh was divine and washed over her body in a wave that felt like she’d actually reached out and touched her again. 

She retrieved a jug of milk and poured some into a frothing pitcher and returned the jug to the fridge. “Sorry about the whole babe thing, by the way,” Asami said as she closed the door to the fridge and looked up to meet Korra’s eyes again. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by calling you that and insinuating that we were dating.”

Korra shook her head a little too vigorously. “No worries here! You can use me all you need as your pretend girlfriend if it’ll get customers like him to leave you alone.”

Asami gave Korra a sly smile as she packed the grounds of an espresso shot. “And being perceived as gay doesn’t bother you?” she asked passively as she continued to work.

Korra shook her head, letting her arms drop as she shrugged. “Nah. I mean, I am, so it doesn't bug me one bit.”

“You are?” Asami asked, looking over her shoulder as she moved to heat the milk in the frothing pitcher.

Korra nodded. “I’m bisexual.”

Asami smiled and went to say something, but stopped because the sound of the steam wand heating the milk overtook the small space, making carrying on their conversation impossible. Korra simply watched her work, unsure if she should just start to leave. But something compelled her to stay put. 

Turning off the steamer wand, Asami went about putting the drink together. She was meticulous in her craft, taking more time to make this particular drink than she had for Shin. She even finished it with creating latte art, making the foam look like a heart as it mixed with the espresso before she added what looked like a finishing touch of caramel drizzle on top. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Asami said, an edge of flirtation to her voice as she reached for a cardboard sleeve and a pen, writing on it as she spoke. “I mean, telling my regular cringy customers that I’m dating the delivery man will hopefully keep them on their toes and quit asking for pictures.”

“Ha,” Korra sounded with a smile. “Feel free to embellish all you like. I’m just the humble deliverer of jugs.” Korra bowed, extending one hand out as she placed the other flat on her stomach.

They then looked at each other and broke into a loud fit of laughter at Korra’s intentionally poor choice words. 

Despite still being overwhelmed by how little Asami was wearing, she didn’t notice it as much as they continued to laugh together. Their banter felt natural. They’d built up a good conversational foundation from their many mornings of deliveries while Asami was fully clothed that Korra realized that the conversations itself hadn’t changed with the removal of clothing. The only thing that changed was Korra’s growing attraction to the woman with each encounter. But, she knew it wasn’t professional to ask her out. And besides, she had just told her that she was bisexual. Usually, if a girl was interested in women, she would say “me too” or say she was a lesbian. But Asami didn’t do that. And she had mentioned to Shin that she’d been saying she was taken for a while. She most definitely had a boyfriend. So friendly banter and one sided attraction was perfectly okay with Korra. It would fade someday.

Asami shook her head, laughter still in her eyes as she placed the sleeve on the drink she made and handed it to Korra with a genuine smile. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Korra asked as she reached out and received the drink, the hot cup making her somewhat sweaty palm feel more uncomfortable.  

“I call it special delivery,” Asami teased with a wink. “It’s a toffee hazelnut latte with an extra shot and a tiny drizzle of caramel.”

Korra smiled. She’d only ordered the drink once and it had been about two weeks ago. It had been a miserable rainy day and dreadfully cold out and she was having a hard morning staying warm. Asami had offered to make her a drink before she opened the stand to help her warm up and that had been what she’d asked for. And it had been downright delicious. Despite seeming to do the job to simply put herself through school, Asami was damn good at her job. 

“It’s your drink of choice, right?” Asami asked, her lips pursing slightly as she looked down at Korra, their height difference exaggerated by her pencil-thin and tall heels. 

“Hell yeah, it is! Thank you,” she said sincerely before she reached for her wallet. “What do I owe you for it?”

Asami shook her head and took a step forward, putting a hand on Korra’s forearm as she continued to hold her gaze. “Nothing. It’s my way of saying thank you for helping me with Shin. You didn’t have to, but I really appreciate it.”

Korra smiled, hoping that Asami couldn’t see the blush she knew was forming on her cheeks. “A-anytime,” she said. Asami’s touch on her bare skin was overwhelming. It felt hot and cold at the same time and it sent shivers through Korra’s entire body and she didn’t want the sensation to end. “I’m happy to help. And, uh, free coffee is just a side bonus.” She smiled nervously. 

Asami hand gripped slightly tighter on Korra’s forearm and it wasn’t Korra’s imagination this time - she bit the corner of her lip, too. It looked like she was about to say something, but then a small bell chimed in the small space, causing Asami to look at the takeaway window. 

“Shit, my morning rush is about to start. I’ve gotta get to it.”

“Yeah,” she said as she thumbed over her shoulder with her free hand. “I’ve got people in dire need of milk and should probably head out, too,” Korra joked back, trying to ignore the flipping sensation in her stomach from the sustained contact from Asami’s hand.

The barista smiled at her, her hand squeezing one more time before releasing her arm. “See you Thursday?”

“Absolutely! Bright and early as always.”

“Good. Have a fabulous rest of your day, okay?” Asami said.

Korra watched her for a second. She wasn’t imagining it. There was a blush on her face. It was there. There was no denying it. Maybe she was blushing because Korra was blushing? And now she was staring at her, which probably made it worse. 

Korra gave an uncharacteristically curt nod. “Yeah yeah. You too! Thanks again for the caffeine!” she said as she held up the latte to show her appreciation before she moved back, making a grab for her hand truck that she’d already loaded with the haul of empty crates.

Asami gave her a small wave before she turned on her impressively tall heels and greeted a customer at the window, leaning forward and putting her body on display; Korra was sure that the view of her leaning out the window was marvelous, but she got to see her toned legs and ass again and knew she had the better view.

Korra swallowed hard and maneuvered her hand truck with one hand, forcing herself to look away and not be a giant, sleazy creeper. The last thing she wanted was for Asami to think she was anything like Shin or her other unruly cringy customers.

She opened the cab of the truck to put her coffee down in the cup holder before hopping back out to reload her truck with the empty crates and hand truck. When she hopped back into her cab, she looked at the drink and smiled before grabbing it and taking a cautious sip. 

The drink was utter perfection. It had just the right temperature, had the ideal amount of foam and flavoring that mingled with the espresso shots that were perfectly pulled and not at all bitter, like most coffee shops pulled them. Korra let out a satisfied sigh and leaned into her seat. The truck was still running - the perk to having a refrigerated load - and moved to put the latte back in her cup holder to shift gears to drive away and go about her day when something caught her eye.

Asami’s handwriting was on the side of her latte’s sleeve. Korra looked down at it curiously and blinked. She remembered watching Asami write on it, but was apparently too distracted to remember to look at it in her presence. She smiled and picked up the cup again to see what it said.

From one bisexual to another - what’s a girl gotta do to take you on a date? was scrawled on the cardboard sleeve in pristine handwriting, accompanied by Asami’s name, a small heart, and a phone number. 

She didn’t care that she was blushing this time. She was in the privacy of her delivery truck and her smile overtook her face. She was sure it was spread from ear to ear. She unbuckled her seatbelt with the idea of going back in to talk to Asami, but when she looked up she saw that the coffee stand had three cars deep on either side, she remained seated in her cab. She was too busy to talk about a potential date. 

Still grinning to herself, she fished her personal phone out of her uniformed cargo shorts and entered Asami’s number. From one bisexual to another, how does dinner tonight sound? she texted hastily while she bit her bottom lip. Seeing the note from Asami now was probably better. If she’d known that Asami’s flirtations were serious while she was standing practically naked in front of her, spirits knew what Korra would do. She smiled to herself as she shoved her phone back into her pocket, looking back to the coffee stand. She knew exactly what she would do - she would have been a bumbling nervous mess. She normally was so confident in her flirting, even being called overconfident by a date or two. But there was something about Asami that made her a silly nervous ball of butterflies. 

And she was perfectly okay with admitting that she liked it. 

She put the truck in drive and started to pull out of the small parking lot that held the popular coffee stand. Despite already being behind on her scheduled deliveries for the day, she was confident that she would be able to get off work at a reasonable hour. If she was quick and deliberate, she’d get off with minimal over-time and would have plenty of time to get ready for and enjoy whatever date they planned for the night. If Asami was available tonight, that was.

Spirits, she hoped she was. 

[defdaily]

[TRANSLATION] HIGH CUT Magazine August 2017 issue - JJ PROJECT: You are my destiny

High Cut 203 July 2017 JJ PROJECT : You are my destiny

Translated by igot7_markp

B-boy Lim Jaebeom and Park Jinyoung from Jinhae met for the first time in 2009. It happened during JYP Entertainment 5th public trainee recruitment audition in Seoul. Two boys, whose registration numbers stood one after another as 24th and 25th, were able to leave behind 10 thousand people and get the first place together for the first time in the history. They debuted in drama "Dreamhigh 2" together, released album as JJ Project, promoted with group GOT7 and their hearts literally beat in synch. After 5 years JJ Project came back again. Now in their twenties. JB and Jinyoung, who were involved in producing music and writing lyrics for all 8 songs, stayed humble throughout the interview, but also slightly radiated self-confidence and ambitions. Story of two men, whose side profiles look alike, and who without regrets dedicated themselves to everything, without highlighting specific point but concentrating on every single one at once.

LIM JAEBEOM

Our indestructible relationship with Jinyoung is that kind of relationships, when later you'll be side by side even under the gravestone

Q: After 5 years JJ Project's still staying together and released album on July, 31. You uploaded on homepage "track cards" where you personally read one line from the songs you've written yourself. "Fade Away" lyrics was the really strong ones. "Always shutting my mouth, claiming it's love, you make me forget what kind of person I am" – is it something you've experienced?

JB: Both experience and imagination. First song's theme is the one that always big and common – "thing that bothers me". Sinking into that theme, I wrote basing both on my experience and imagination.

Q: You have been involved in producing and writing all 8 tracks. Which song one was the hardest to write?

JB: "Icarus" and out title track "Tomorrow, Today". Even though the theme of "Icarus" was clear picking right words were hard, therefore I had really a lot of worries. In the beginning when I started working on "Tomorrow, Today" I wasn't entirely sure what I should write about. Park Jinyoung PD-nim cleared it out for me. But for me it's more important to think of what I wanted to write when I've just listened to the music (for the first time). It was difficult to write lyrics about feelings you have, standing on the crossroad not sure of the choice you should make, so people of my age can empathize with it.

Q: I heard that the first thing you do in the morning after getting up is reading three lines from the book out loud? Seems like regular reading also helps you with writing.

JB: Ah, this is completely in the past. (laughing hard) Now as soon as I open my eyes in the morning I'm feeding the cats.

Q: Thinking of it, you own three, right? Nora, Koonta and Odd. Actually I was wondering if those scratches on your arms are cat's work.

JB: That's right. But scratches are not from the cat I own but from the stray cat. I was feeding stray cats and decided to slightly touch them. (smiles) When I walk down the street and meet cats, I don't want to scare them and just quickly go to the nearby convenient store and buy can of tuna to feed them. I also make sure that some food is remained. Because this is the only thing I can do for them.

Q: Seems like you are "Cat's Butler" to the core. I heard you had to be apart with your beloved Nora but now you are back together.

JB: Yes. In fact, originally all GOT7 members used to live together in one dorm, but now a few people moved out. In the beginning I shared the room with Youngjae and it suddenly appeared that kid is allergic to cats. That's why I asked members to change room arrangement a little bit, but all of them refused. (smiles) So I had to leave Nora in the other place for a while. When members moved out and each of us had separate room, I brought her back and she recognized me. When parents drove Nora back to me, she kept crying in the car. But as soon as I appeared in the car and said "Hi, Nora" she stopped crying immediately.

Q: No one wanted to change the rooms with their charismatic leader? (smile)

JB: I gave up a lot. (smile) I'm not sunbae for children, it's more like we are people of the same age group who are working on music together. But I'm really straightforward. That's why when I'm going around in conversation, I'm not sure children understand it and it feels awkward. So instead I'm just extremely cautious, when I talk.

Q: During JJ Project promotion you put GOT7's leader role slightly aside, right? To be honest it's kind of relieving, isn't it?

JB: It is. Really relieving. But I still have another burdens. Two people need to cover space that was filled with 7 people. Since me and Jinyoung don't have really entertaining character, I am worrying a lot if it will be too serious.

Q: I found an interview you gave when you started first activities. Back then it was 19 years old JB. You were asked to describe your teen years in one word and that word was "secret". How about JB's twenties?

JB: I'm still 24. For now, if you ask me, the word is "Vain". There are people who say that you shouldn't think too much and enjoy the time during your twenties, but if I think twice, I think I could have done a little bit better. If to say concretely, I could have been more careful and smart – and now it's a pity.

Q: But after debut you continuously worked hard. After JJ Project you filmed in "Dreamhigh 2" and then after GOT7 debut you promoted quite successfully.

JB: I'm just like that. I often think only about regretting things. With this album, too, when I listened it fully and finished mastering, I felt unsatisfied. "I could have done a little bit better. It's already late to fix it, right?" – this is what I was thinking about. (smile) I put efforts not to lose the heart I had in the beginning (rookie mindset).

Q: If you started to talk about rookie days, as I remember, you were a b-boy before becoming a JYPE trainee, right? I heard during each practice you only ate 1000 won worth vegetable crackers.

JB: Ah, back then we didn't have practice room, so we practiced in metro station. Since I was a student I didn't have money, but because I danced a lot I got hungry fast. Three packs of vegetable crackers costed 1000 won at that time, so I ate them as the refreshment.

Q: You applied for JYP auditions and shared first place with Jinyoung-ssi, right? Then you debuted together as JJ Project, filmed together in "Dreamhigh 2", made it together to GOT7 and now you are coming back as a duet once again. Your relationships must be really indestructible.

JB: Yes, they really are!! Seems like we will be side by side even under the gravestone. (laughs hard) I accidentally saw what fans write. How I do something or Jinyoung does something and we are copying each other's moves exactly in the same way. Unconsciously.

Q: In 2012 interview to the question "JJ Project's position?" you replied "Bottom". Now?

JB: Still bottom. Even though we gained some proficiency, after being left for 5 years I think we need to consider it as starting from the bottom again. The music that was there 5 years ago and music that is coming out now is significantly different. And there are so many skillful singers in the music world nowadays. (smile)

Q: Then I will change my question. Till what floor you want to go up during this promotions?

JB: Hm…If there are 10 floors, I guess till 3,5? The situation when you have already passed the third floor and on your way to the fourth?

Q: Is there a tip you want to give to fans so they can enjoy this album more?

JB: I can't recommend anything. Please, check everything. We put a lot of effort in it. Not only into music, but also into other things. In order to our face and body not look fat, we skipped dinners and got slimmer. (smile) We paid a lot of attention to everything – starting from music video and finishing with clothes. Even when we left the studio we kept sending and receiving ideas via mail, so songs would become even better. We really worker hard. So, please, check everything. (smile)

PARK JINYOUNG

"The day" is the song, I wrote in the plane, when I listened to music and started longing for parents

Q: When decision regarding JJ Project was done, how did you feel?

JY: I honestly asked the company: why now of all time? Since I though there a lot of things we had to accomplish as GOT7. Then I received reply from company that we would represent GOT7 and show people the different color of the group, so it would help GOT7 to grow more. I was infatuated with this answer. (smile)

Q: I guess during album preparations you have also felt how much you have improved yourself.

JY: Somehow comparing to us 5 years ago, we allow yourself more. Ah, and my throat stopped aching. When we prepared first album, my voice broke and also I didn't sing a lot. I only did rap and sang occasionally so my voice had gone. This time my voice cords definitely became stronger. I feel like I found comfortable tone for my voice.

Q: I heard the lyrics you have written are poetic. Especially, "Coming Home" lyrics. "When the emptiness passes, the cold wind blows. When the longing passes, the spring rain falls"…

JY: This is the lyrics I wrote in the airplane while listening to New Age's song. Suddenly I missed my parents so much and felt really melancholic. So I wrote down what my heart felt. When we composed album I found the song that suited those lyrics a lot.

Q: Looking at lyrics, team colors changed significantly after 5 years.

JY: I think it's just two opposites. It's been really bright back then. This time it's a light-beat youth song, which we can sing and dance to.

Q: Which song is your favorite?

JY: My solo song "The Day". I wrote the story I wanted to tell a lot. I can explain what this song is about in one sentence: "That day, when I thought everything was good, that day, when it went away from me so easily and it felt like the world will crumble down, it's vanishing like it was nothing". I live with the thought that things I always liked aren't really good things and things I disliked aren't really bad things. No matter how great the sadness or happiness was, after 1 year the memories of it will start vanishing.

Q: When you read the lyrics you've written yourself, haven't it made you embarrassed or cringe?

JY: I did it with one thought. "I must do it. I can only go home after I finish it smoothly. I have no time. I need to go (home) fast". (smile)

Q: I found an interview that you gave after debut in 2012. In it you explained your teen years as "Preparation". How will you explain your twenties in one word?

JY: Twenties are "Warm-up". (Isn't it and teen years' description same?) Undoubtedly different. Making analogy with health, teen age is like changing clothes. Twenties is like exercising on running machine and riding the bicycle to make your body slightly hot. Since I'm only 24, I haven't "sweated" yet. I guess sweat will appear at 29.

Q: In that interview you talked really detailed about your ideal type. "I'd like if she has something to say when we're sitting in a café and talking. And I wish her face would be natural. Even if she does something to it, it should still be natural in my eyes. I like big eyes and well-defined features. No fringe, just long natural hair falling down her spine. About clothes – just jeans, shirt and converse".

JY: I remember why I said this. It was influenced by Shin Minah sunbaenim's "My girlfriend is a nine-tailed fox". Whenever I receive questions about my ideal type, I describe main heroine from the film or drama I watched and was impressed by. That's why I don't have ideal type now – I didn't watch love story movies recently. (smile) Although I watch movies a lot.

Q: Your hobby is "watching movies alone".

JY: I watched 5 movies over the last few days. "Dunkirk", "Hedwig", "Amazing Spiderman", "My love" and one more. "Dunkirk" is like three part space novel, that cross each other. I like it even more because it has short running time. I cried watching "My love". It's a real story, so tears come out naturally. I'm happy when I watch movies alone. You can fully concentrate not caring about others. And also each time I watch movies I talk to myself. When character does something disappointing, I'm saying: "Aigoo, why are you like that?". I can't do something like this in front if others. (smile)

Q: Even being really busy you find time to watch movies. Do you master your acting?

JY: I really watch it without any thoughts; though people say you should go to study while watching. (smile) No matter how good actor plays, it's not easy to analyze acting. I also visited Pixar Animation exhibition recently.

Q: When you come around don't people recognize you?

JY: When they recognize they are like "It's Jinyoung, right?" and I reply "Right, but sheesh". They recognize me, but since they are not fans, they don't follow me. (smile)

Q: You are constantly busy with one thing or another. You played a role of university student who haven't had girlfriend even once and dreams of becoming a civil worker in 2017 web-drama "Magic School" produced by JYP Pictures, right? The shooting has just finished. It's the first time you play twenty-years old, isn't it?

JY: It is. Even if it's an act, I liked to experience the living of ordinary 20-year-old. Thing I envy the most is an opportunity to live with your family under one roof. It's been a year since I last visited my parent's home.

Q: I visited fan-café on my way (to the interview). You pay a lot attention to fans, so they gave you a nickname "Fan-Jal-Al" (the one, who knows fans). When I looked through SNS, what caught my eyes is that whenever GOT7 fans went to the trips they dress their official goods' dolls "GOTOON" and make prove shots with it. Have you known about it?

JY: No, really? (Manager: You haven't seen even once?) Since I don't use SNS, I didn't know at all. Wah, I'm so sorry right now. Sincerely, thank you. Even though traveling is the time for yourself, they are even going all the way long to bring GOTOONs and dress them. Once the interview finishes, I will search and take a look for sure. When I go for a trip, I will also take a picture with goods and upload it.

Q: Fans highly anticipates JJ Project's comeback. 5 years ago when you were asked "What is JJ Project's position?", you replied "20th floor underground". In your opinion till what floor you will be able to climb with this album?

JY: 5th ground floor? Because on the 5th floor JYP management office is located. Our company's top floor. (laugh hard) I don't have regrets about this album. We have done everything we could. We put our stories in it. Please, enjoy it a lot.

Translated by @igot_markedby7

Interview and photos scans - @GGOONERR_

All rights reserved by HIGH CUT magazine and JYPE

[dimensionsunited]

JANUARY 2020 DIMENSIONS ENTERTAINMENT SCHEDULES & REVIEW

Members may earn 3 points each (up to 6 points) for writing, by the end of February 7 KST:

A solo para of 400+ words based on their monthly schedule (does not count toward your monthly total).

A thread of six posts (three per participant, including the starter) based on their monthly schedule.

Threads do not have to take place directly during an important date listed on the schedule, but must be related to what the muse is mentioned to be doing in the paragraph explaining their schedule/the company’s schedule for the month and/or their thoughts on the mentioned activities or lack thereof.

These schedules may be updated throughout the month if new information needs to be added.

Reminder: December schedule posts are due by the end of January 7 KST.

Overall Company

On an administrative level, employees are busy getting everything together to begin moving operations into Dimensions’ new building next month. On a level more directly affecting the company’s artists this month, Dimensions will be hosting their usual beginning of the year meeting headed by Choi Dongwook as well as the normal consultations on creative and music direction. Choi Dongwook will not be present in the directional meetings this year, possibly sparking rumors his hands-on approach was a phase he’s grown out of as more and more of his uncle’s duties are being delegated elsewhere. The company meeting will emphasize a focus on living up to the investment of a new building this year with concert profits from nearly all artists under them as well as a continued focus in branching out into the Western market with Alien and Unity (and to a lesser extent, Dimensions Soloist 1 and Lucid), and perhaps working on an introduction for 7ROPHY into the market.

Important dates: 

January 24-26: Seollal break (no activities save for specific voluntary individual schedules).

January 27: Meeting for company artists and those who work directly with them (managers, PR, etc.) headed by creative director Choi Dongwook. Dimensions Entertainment’s mission statements and overall plans for 2019 will be delivered.

Various dates: In a tradition started in 2018 by creative director Choi Dongwook, all artists will meet with in-house producers and artist and repertoire department representatives to discuss the styles of music and concepts they’d like to pursue in 2020. No promises are made that their wishes will be met, but the intent is to keep open a clear line of communication.

Dimensions Soloist 1

"Lalalay” and “Noir” weren’t quite the smash hits her previous songs had been, though they still performed suitably, so her schedule isn’t very hectic while decisions on her planned next album are being made on a higher level than her in order to alter it in hopes of more smashing success. She has been invited in to do a video talking about her lyrics. She’ll be expected to prepare a rough version of her explanations in advance.

Important dates:

January 11: Studio K Talking Lyrics video filming.

Dimensions Soloist 2

He’s slated for a late April comeback, meaning preparations begin this month. The track list and concepts will be finalized and confirmed with him at the beginning of the month, so he then will go into the studio to get down the vocals for the mini-album. He has a fanmeeting in Bangkok, Thailand next month so he’ll be expected to practice the songs he’s already released as well as up to three family-friendly cover songs of his choice for the set list.

Important dates:

N/A

Gal.actic

For the bulk of January, Gal.actic will be in the dance studio rehearsing the choreography and performance aspects of their comeback title track until the end of the month comes. On the twenty-second, they’re scheduled to shoot their comeback teaser photos, which will be shot full-clothed in a shallow bath tub. Right before the month ends, they’ll be on set to shoot their music video. The video is low budget and not all that impressive for a company often praised for their music videos, but will showcase the choreography Dimensions has insisted they work so hard on.

Important dates:

January 22: Comeback teaser photo shoot.

January 30: "B.B.B” MV filming.

Alien

They’re back home for the beginning of the month to attend award shows they’ve been nominated for, but then it’s off on the Europe leg of their world tour. Before they leave, they’ll record their Japanese double singles releasing next month: a Japanese version of  “Alligator” and an original song “Swish”. While they’re on tour, they’ll be tasked with filming a few self-cam videos lipsyncing to “Swish” in different locations for a video to promote the song. Management passes down to them that their year is slated to consist of a lot of continued touring and English singles to lead up to the release of their first English album next year. This year, they’ll have one Japanese album release and one Korean album release.

Important dates:

January 5: Performance at Golden Disc Awards Day Two at Gocheok Sky Dome in Seoul, South Korea (also attending: CHARM, Impulse, and Origin).

January 8: Performance at Gaon Chart Music Awards at Jamsil Arena in Seoul, South Korea (also attending: BEE, Lucid, and Femme Fatale).  

January 11: We Are Here tour concert at Placio Vistalegre in Madrid, Spain.

January 15: We Are Here tour concert at AFAS Live in Amsterdam, Netherlands. 

January 18: We Are Here tour concert at La Seine Musicale in Paris, France. 

January 21: We Are Here tour concert at The SSE Arena Wembley in London, England. 

January 23: We Are Here tour concert at Mercedes-Benz Arena in Berlin, Germany. 

January 30: Performance at Seoul Music Awards at Gocheok Sky Dome in Seoul, South Korea (also attending: BEE, WISH, Lucid, Fuse).

MARS

The time has come for the concerts they’ve been preparing for (see November’s schedule for special stages). The content they’ve been filming during practice will begin to go up on Youtube before the concerts, but the members will continue to film before and after on the days of the concerts to get more behind the scenes material. Once they get their two concerts over with, they can rest through Seollal since they’ll be starting comeback preparations next month. Dimensions want them to comeback twice this year as well as get in another round of concerts before the end of the year. After being Dimensions’ most domestically-focused group for a while, it seems they’re giving in to the temptation to eventually float MARS to international fans with time.

Important dates:

January 11: KPop Super Concert in Hanoi at Mỹ Đình Stadium in Hanoi, Vietnam (also performing: Unity).

January 18: LAUNCH concert at Olympic Park Gymnastics Stadium in Seoul, South Korea.

January 19: LAUNCH concert at Olympic Park Gymnastics Stadium in Seoul, South Korea.

7ROPHY

Their comeback comes at the end of the month, but between Seollal and the song being a digital single, promotions are too expansive. Instead of the fan signs they’d have for a comeback with a physical release, Dimensions will have 7ROPHY releasing online content through various channels and making radio show appearances. In addition to the customary Relay Dance video, they’ll split into two groups to film ASMR challenge videos. The group for the first video will consist of the lead vocal/lead dancer, main rapper/vocal, and lead dancer/vocal while the second video will involve the leader/main dancer/lead vocal, maknae/lead rapper/vocal, main vocal, and lead vocal. Dimensions would like them to have two more comebacks before the end of the year it seems, but they’re still reviewing songs for those. In positive news, if they can avoid doing anything too disastrous, they’re predicted to pay off their debt before everyone is required to have moved out of the dorm.

Important dates:

January 22: Release of “Me” digital single & showcase, promotions continue until February 22. 

January 23: “Me” Relay Dance video filming.

January 27: Guesting on Idol Radio radio show.

January 28: Dingo MOVE REC Performance Video filming.

January 29: Guesting on MBC FM4U radio show.

January 31: ASMR unit video one and two filmings.

Unity

Sub-unit CHAMPION’s debut appears to be prioritized over Unity for now, if the way management talks is anything to go by. Initial plans had been for a comeback in the first half of the year, but once plans were finalized, it was considered a better look to investors to push it into the second half of the year. January’s schedule is more focused on keeping Unity’s name out there and giving fans content. Dimensions has worked out a contract for Unity to become one of the faces of Lotte Duty Free, joining Origin and Knight, and they’ll film a CF with a song in both Korean and English this month. They’ll also continue to film content for their Youtube channel. This month, it will be a New Year’s greeting video reflecting on 2019, looking forward to 2020, and wishing fans a happy new year. This will not be scripted, but the gist of what each member will say will be cleared with management first and any necessary edits will be made before upload.

Important dates:

January 4: New Year’s Greeting video filming.

January 10: Lotte Duty Free English and Korean CFs filming.

January 11: KPop Super Concert in Hanoi at Mỹ Đình Stadium in Hanoi, Vietnam (also performing: MARS).

              ↳ CHAMPION

Now that the members have had time to settle into the idea of their new sub-unit, this month, they’ll familiarize themselves with the songs that will be on their debut mini-album and begin recording them in the studio. All of the recording will be done in the studios at Dimensions Entertainment building, as the group is working with their team musically instead of BC’s. Only two songs on the album, “Jopping” and “I Can’t Stand The Rain”, will feature all members, with the other three featuring select members deemed most fitting for the specific song:

“2 Fast” - Decipher’s maknae/main dancer/lead vocal, Knight’s main vocal 2, Unity’s lead rapper/vocal, Unity’s main dancer/rapper/vocal

“Super Car” - Decipher’s/maknae/main dancer/lead vocal, Knight’s main vocal 2, Unity’s leader/main rapper/lead dancer/vocal, Unity’s main dancer/rapper/vocal, Unity’s lead rapper/vocal

“No Manners” - Decipher’s maknae/main dancer/lead vocal, Knight’s main dancer/vocal/rapper, Unity’s leader/main rapper/lead dancer/vocal, Unity’s main dancer/rapper/vocal

Important dates:

N/A

Lucid

Though their music show promotions end on the 2nd, Dimensions has decided to extend their run of fan signs quite a bit longer to continue to increase album sales and lock in new fans that are now interested in them following their number one hit (and the only song to achieve a PAK on the charts in 2019 other than Origin’s comeback). Their awards show run continues but they’re in high demand now for more than that. This will include a return to Immortal Songs 2 as well as a return to MCountdown after the end of their promotional run to do a special stage of a cover of “To My Boyfriend” as a reward for achieving a triple crown. Management is now incredibly hesitant to proceed with a return to their dark concept as had always been planned, but scrapping what had already been planned would waste money, so they can only hope fans stick around for it. Lucid’s second anniversary is coming next month, so they’ll be recording a special anniversary song, “Full Moon”, to release. Now that their old brand contract with a shoe company expired, they’ve upgraded to Nuovo for 2020 and will shoot a CF for them this month. Dimensions is planning a dark concept and a power innocence concept release this year to compare their successes and also plan for the group to tour again.

Important dates:

January 2: End of music show promotions.

January 4: Performance at Golden Disc Awards Day One at Gocheok Sky Dome in Seoul, South Korea (also attending: BEE and WISH). 

January 8: Performance at Gaon Chart Music Awards at Jamsil Arena in Seoul, South Korea (also attending: BEE, Alien, and Femme Fatale).

January 12: Fan sign in Yongsan, Seoul.

January 13: Immortal Songs 2 episode recording (to be aired February 1).

January 16: Nuovo CF filming.

January 19: Fan sign in Gimpo.

January 30: “To My Boyfriend” special stage on MCountdown.

January 30: Performance at Seoul Music Awards at Gocheok Sky Dome in Seoul, South Korea (also attending: BEE, WISH, Alien, Fuse).

[notthetoothfairy]

Alright with You

What is this... a fic?!?!?!?! Yes, you’re reading that right. I’m a bit late but it was @a-simple-rainbow‘s birthday yesterday so I had to honor tradition and do some writing! Happy birthday, my lovely fandom wife! <3 You deserve the world and more, so I apologize that this is just a silly fic and not the world and more. :P

(I’ll upload it on AO3 later, right now it’s late and I need my sleeeeeep)

Disclaimer: This is unbeta’ed and probably poorly written LOL

Inspired by this post

Kurt hates parties. If it weren’t for Quinn’s endless pestering, he probably wouldn’t have shown his face at all.

He wrinkles his nose as he watches a group of jocks start a burping competition.

Yeah, he definitely wouldn’t have come if Quinn hadn’t been so adamant – or rich, for that matter, considering that she promised to buy him lunch for the rest of the school year if he drove her to this one party. The party of the year, apparently. Kurt couldn’t care less about the ranking of this drunken slobberfest they call a party, but he’s not exactly loaded, so the prospect of free lunch was a damn good selling point. Which Quinn knew, obviously.

Also, quite obvious: She ditched him about two seconds into the party, probably to break up or create yet another Glee club love triangle… who even knows. Not Kurt, that’s for sure. But, hey, keeping him company wasn’t part of the deal. Quinn’s objective was to enjoy the party. Kurt is well aware that she won’t be able to do that when all he is likely to provide is snarky commentary.

Ugh, it’s almost like he cares, which is bizarre because this is McKinley’s resident ex-cheerleader barbie Quinn Fabray. If he continues at this rate, he’ll be befriending Rachel Berry next.

Shuddering at the thought, he turns to the drinks table, where he is immediately targeted by Santana Lopez and her signature sly grin.

“Well, well, well, who do we have here?” she asks, faking delight. “What’s your poison tonight, hm?”

With an eyeroll, Kurt makes to push past her. “Not my first rodeo, Satan, I know better than to drink one of your hellish creations.” She blocks his path. “Ugh, you have got to be kidding me. Just hand me one of those cups.”

“What’s the matter, did daddy not allow you to drink alcohol? Or did Quinn Fa-baby momma make you her designated driver?”

Kurt glares at her, and much to his chagrin, Santana’s face just lights up even more.

“Aww, she did! You skanks are just too precious. So… unskanky,” she coos.

Kurt’s growing more annoyed by the second. He hates that Santana is still as unimpressed by his act as ever. The rest of the school has learned to just leave him alone when he suddenly showed up with piercings, bright neon streaks in his hair and a new give-zero-fucks attitude. But Santana is a tougher nut to crack.

He narrows his eyes a bit more for good measure, but she waves him off and reaches behind her to retrieve a light blue solo cup. “There you go, sunshine. Pop or water?”

“Water,” Kurt gets out through gritted teeth. He hates the sugary sweetness of coke and the like, and with water he can at least pretend he’s drinking clear spirits. Or maybe he should do that and just forget about the driving, just like Quinn forgot about him.

But deep down he knows he’ll regret it if he’s not there to take her home, or if his dad figures out he was too drunk to drive. Getting upset with Kurt is way too unhealthy for his heart. Even rebellion has its limits, and Kurt will always choose his dad over his reputation.

He sips his water unenthusiastically, trying to avoid both the dancefloor and the beer pong corner, which results in him creepily staying in a corner near the drinks table, from where at least he can engage in his two favorite sports – people-watching, and, more importantly, people-judging.

He is so enthralled in watching Rachel stealing pathetic glances at Kurt’s step-brother Finn Hudson every two seconds while she’s fake-flirting with two older students that Kurt only notices after a few minutes that she is holding a cup with a very untypical color. He frowns. Bright green, really? Is she that tipsy?

The thing is, Kurt could swear he saw Mercedes Jones sport a pink cup earlier, and everyone knows that if something is available in pink, Rachel will make sure that she has it. Kurt is still traumatized from that one time he saw her bedroom.

He looks over to the drinks station and spots tags next to the towers of cups. The colors are labels. Pink apparently means “taken”, which definitely explains why this is the one time Rachel decided to forgo it. And green is – ah, yeah, “it’s complicated”. Kurt grins. Sure, Rachel. Should have gone with light blue. Single AF, the sign reads.

Kurt tenses uncomfortably as he looks down at his own cup.

Blue.

Santana, that cunning, manipulative devil. Of course she’d be the one who doesn’t buy the rumors Quinn spreads about Kurt’s conquests. She knows Kurt hasn’t so much as touched another guy. Great. He’s gonna have to do something about this. Change the cup to… purple maybe? DTF – down to fuck… ugh, not the best choice but probably what an actually skanky version of Kurt would go for. It’s not like McKinley has an overflow of gay guys who would take him up on the offer. And even if there were gay guys at this party, it’s not like he’s much of a hook-up prospect. His painfully pathetic attempts to get laid at Scandals taught him that. God, maybe he should just grab a full bottle of tequila and kiss this night goodbye.

“Ready to party?” someone shouts next to Kurt. He almost scoffs at them before he realizes it’s Blondie-in-a-Bottle Sam Evans, and he is not talking to Kurt, but to someone next to him, who can only be… ah, yes, Blaine.

Blaine Anderson, the transfer student, who is a bit of a nerd with his gelled hair, dorky colorful bowties and his Star Wars lunch box. Blaine, who may be the only person at the school who doesn’t treat Kurt differently, because – well, because he didn’t know Kurt pre-skank. But also because he just doesn’t seem to mind. Kurt has been paired with him on an assignment once or twice, and if Kurt is completely honest with himself, those were the only times it actively pained him to keep up his tough act. He might have even dialed it down just for Blaine.

As much as he wants to deny it, Kurt has a bit of a crush. Which is not cool. Not cool at all. Unskanky, Santana would say.

He watches Blaine shake and nod his head simultaneously at Sam’s question as they approach the drinks table. Kurt sighs and decides to wait until after they’re done there to change his cup color. He can totally wait for his turn. It’s not like anyone is going to talk to him if he puts his bitchy face on. Which, of course, he has practiced to perfection. So, Creepy Watching and Judging Round Number Two it is.

Getting back into it, Kurt watches Artie Abrams clumsily but somehow successfully butter up to Brittany Pierce, even though they are surrounded by a bunch of very interested, suddenly very pissed off football players.

He chuckles at the way Santana tries to not look affected at all but ends up glaring at everyone attempting to talk to Brittany. Santana thinks she has Kurt figured out? Ha. He’s one step ahead of her. At least she doesn’t know about his pathetic cru-

Damn. He was so lost in thought that he missed the perfect opportunity to slip past Sam and Blaine just as they turned away. Now there’s more people at the stand and as Sam and Blaine move away from the table, they come to a halt right next to Kurt. Shit. How is he supposed to act like he didn’t notice them now?

“Hey, can you hold this?” Sam asks Blaine. “I’ll just be a sec.” He hands Blaine his cup, and Kurt can’t help how his eyes widen when he sees the color. Pink?! Since when is Sam Evans dating someone? Kurt wonders if Quinn knows about it. She usually knows what everyone and their mother are up to.

Blaine stands there awkwardly, and since his blondie sidekick is gone, Kurt dares to give him a once-over. Damn, it should be illegal to look that cute in chinos. Kurt puts his cup to his lips to hide a smile behind the rim. It would have been a smart choice if he hadn’t simultaneously spotted the other cup Blaine is holding. The color makes Kurt almost choke on his water. Audibly.

Blaine turns to him, concerned. “Woah, Kurt, are you okay?”

Damn that purple cup.

“’m fine, thanks” Kurt manages, coughing awkwardly and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Water in the wrong pipe, I guess.” He pauses, grimacing. “Tequila, I mean.”

“Right. Tequila…” Blaine smiles. “I’ll just pretend I didn’t see your Navigator parked down the street.”

Kurt feels a shiver run down his spine at the thought that Blaine might have kept an eye out for his car outside. That’s just… pathetic, Kurt. Get a grip, he tells himself.

“Whatever.” He drawls the word for good measure, trying desperately to nail the tone somewhere between not caring and playful teasing. With a nod to Blaine’s purple cup, he says, “Interesting choice.”

“Rum and coke.” Blaine shrugs. “Pretty classic, I’d say?”

Kurt bites his lip, releasing it quickly. “The color, I mean.”

With a blush, Blaine glances down at his drink. “Oh, I actually would have preferred pink.” He clears his throat. “But Sam poured them wrong by accident, and he’s driving, so I ended up with this one instead.”

Kurt’s careful to not choke on his water this time. So Sam’s not the taken one, Blaine is… what?! Then again, figures. He’s a transfer student. A cute one, at that. Fresh meat and all… McKinley’s singles must go crazy over Blaine. Kurt wonders if maybe he’s misread Blaine’s sexuality.

“Right,” he mutters. Santana couldn’t have picked his cup color any better. Single AF indeed. Fuck this party. “Well, I- I should go see what Quinn’s up to.” He clears his throat. “I’m her DD.”

Blaine blinks, seeming surprised. “Oh… sure.” He shoots Kurt a small grin. “Enjoy the party.”

Kurt scoffs. “Doubt it.”

“Oh. Okay. Uhm… bye then.”

Blaine looks taken aback, and Kurt could smack himself. His stupid temper. He makes an abrupt turn, trying to push the thought of having offended Blaine out of his mind. He shouldn’t be caring about things like dating anyhow. His reputation is on the line. He breathes, one heavy breath in and one out, weaving his way through a sea of hammered people.

He finds Quinn eventually – making out with someone from the swim team in one of the house’s upstairs bedrooms. Of course. Kurt sighs, closing the door behind him when she tells him to “get the fuck out”. As he turns back to the hallway, he almost collides with Mercedes. She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Sneaking off to be alone?” she asks. Kurt can’t decipher whether she sounds snarky or hurt. Out of all the people he’s cut off these past few months, he definitely regrets Mercedes the most.

“Not exactly.” Kurt shrugs. “Just looking for Quinn.”

Mercedes hums in reply. They both do the awkward dance of looking down at their hands and then back up, only to look back down. Kurt’s eyes zero in on the cup in Mercedes’ hands.

He clears his throat. “You’re dating someone?”

For a split second, Mercedes’ face turns red. It’s a good look on her, Kurt thinks, but before he can say anything, her face hardens.

“None of your business,” she says sharply.

“No, no, I know,” Kurt says, holding up his hands. He can’t help but sigh a little. “It’s just…”

“I know.” Mercedes gulps. “I thought you’d be the first to know, too.”

“Mercedes…” Kurt reaches out a hand but pulls it back at the last second, hugging himself instead. Well, this party sucks already, maybe he should just roll with the punches. “I miss you, you know?”

He’s met with another raised eyebrow.

“I know, I don’t show it,” he says hastily. “I never wanted it to be this way, though.”

“I just don’t think any of this is really necessary,” Mercedes says. “We had your back.”

“Well, it wasn’t… there’s- there’s things you don’t know,” Kurt mutters. Karofsky bullying him was one thing. Karofsky threatening to kill him if he told anyone he was gay… very different. “I swear I’d tell you if I could.”

Mercedes bites her lip and smiles a little.

“It’s Sam,” she whispers, leaning closer.

Kurt frowns. “What?”

She holds up her cup. “Sam and I…”

“What?!”

“It’s not that unlikely,” she says, defensive.

Kurt shakes his head quickly. “Uh, no, it’s just – I thought he had a purple cup earlier.”

“Nope.” Mercedes grins. “Definitely pink. I saw him with it just a second ago.”

But it was an accident, Kurt thinks. Blaine said the pink was for him.

“Oh, well… I’m happy for you,” Kurt says, shooting Mercedes his most sincere smile. “Truly.”

“Thanks, Kurt,” she says. “We could hang out sometime maybe…?”

Kurt takes a step back. “I… maybe.”

There’s that sad look again. Kurt closes his eyes to drown it out. Once he feels marginally better, he opens them, bracing himself for more sadness, but – Mercedes is gone.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Maybe he can’t openly be Mercedes’ friend anymore – but the least he can do is make sure her boyfriend isn’t being a dick to her. He almost races down the stairs back into the living room.

Even more people dancing now. Kurt scans the room for any sign of Sam or Blaine. He growls when he spots them. Of course – they are dancing. He tries not to watch Blaine shimmy his hips to the music, and promptly fails. Damn that boy.

He stomps over, pushing himself between them and staring Sam down.

“You better not hurt her,” he hisses.

Sam’s eyes go huge. “What?”

“You heard me.” Kurt narrows his eyes. “I know your cup was supposed to be purple. Blaine told me. You’re more than lucky to get a chance with someone like Mercedes. If you-”

Sam’s eyes skirt around frantically as he steps closer and tries to shut Kurt up. “Ssssh, what the fuck, don’t tell-”

“Oh, don’t want her to find out you’re on the lookout? Is that why you so conveniently switched cup colors, huh?!”

Blaine dances around Kurt and comes up next to Sam, looking confused and a little dizzy. Kurt honestly almost forgot he was behind him the entire time.

“Sam, ‘s Kurt still angry at me?” he asks, his words slurred.

Sam rolls his eyes. “No, he’s angry at me.”

“What’d chu do?”

“Switch cup colors,” Sam mutters. He turns back to Kurt. “Kurt, man, I swear this is not what you think it is.” He inches closer, and if Kurt wasn’t so focused on defending Mercedes, he’d find it cute how Blaine instinctively does the same, almost touching Kurt’s shoulder. Voice lowered, Sam continues, “Mercedes and I are keeping it on the down low for a while.”

“Yeah, right.” Kurt laughs in disbelief. “Which is why you’re both sporting pink?”

“Well, we’re not telling anyone who exactly- that’s beside the point, though.” Sam sighs. “If I was going to cheat on her, why would my cup say that I’m taken, Sherlock?”

Kurt blinks. He hadn’t thought of that.

“Where does it say that?” Blaine asks, looking down at Sam’s cup.

Kurt replays what Blaine told him earlier in his head. He wanted pink, but Sam switched them. He didn’t say anything about the meaning…

“Blaine doesn’t know about the color codes,” Kurt concludes.

Sam shoots him a grin. “I was just messing with him a little. I knew you were going to-” He blinks quickly. “Uh, forget that part.”

Kurt tries to ignore the way his heartbeat speeds up a little at that. What is Sam’s plan? And does it mean Blaine is single after all? And why does he care oh-so-much?

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Blaine asks, alternating between staring at Kurt and staring at Sam.

Kurt gives Sam the sideeye before turning to Blaine. “Blaine, your cup color means you’re DTF.”

“What’s DTF?” Blaine asks immediately.

“How much has he had to drink?” Kurt asks at the same time as Sam says, “Down to fuck.”

Blaine whips around to face Sam. “You told him I’m down to fuck?!”

Sam breaks out into laughter. “I didn’t but you just did…” He turns to Kurt and winks. “I think I’ll leave you to it. I’m gonna go find Mercedes.”

“Sam, wait!” Kurt says, cursing his helpless voice. God, what is he going to with this info now? Sam doesn’t turn around.

Blaine stares after Sam before turning to Kurt. “Kurt, if Sam leaves me here alone, can you drive me home? I could break into a car and try it myself but… I think I’m too-” He sways a little on his feet. “Tipsy.”

“Ya think?” Kurt huffs out a laugh, reaching out his hand to steady Blaine. “Okay, first things first. Have some of my water. And, uh… let’s go somewhere outside to get you sobered up, okay?”

Blaine’s face lights up at that. He reaches for Kurt’s hand, but Kurt withdraws, looking around nervously. He tries to ignore Blaine’s furrowed eyebrows and his pout, instead pushing him through the crowd by the shoulders. When he’s finally got them outside in the miraculously empty backyard, he lets himself breathe. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Blaine watches him, surprisingly attentive in his drunken state.

“Do you hate me?” he asks timidly.

“Wh- what?” Kurt stutters.

Blaine looks down at his feet. “I never know what to think with you.”

“I don’t hate you, Blaine,” Kurt says, stepping closer. “Drink some more water.”

Kurt takes the pink cup from Blaine before he can raise it to his mouth.

“The other cup. That’s your rum and coke.”

“Oh.” Blaine nods, and gulps down the contents of Kurt’s cup, holding it with both hands like a child. Kurt bites back a smile. Why is he even cuter when he’s drunk? When he’s done, Blaine holds the cup up in Kurt’s face. “So, what does blue mean?”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Single as fuck.”

“Are you?” Blaine asks curiously, eyes flitting between Kurt’s face and the cup.

Kurt tries to hide his blush by pushing a strand of pink hair out of his face. “I guess I am.”

“Oh, alright.” Blaine gives a slight nod. “Cool.”

Kurt can’t help but laugh at the way he tries to act nonchalant. “Yeah? That alright with you?”, he asks.

“Yeah…” Blaine drops his eyes and then shoots them back up at Kurt with an intensity that makes Kurt’s knees go weak. “Very.”

“Blaine…” he breathes out, hyperaware of how close their faces are. He clears his throat, looking around for something to do. He decides on setting their cups down on a nearby windowsill. His eyes linger on the pink one.

“Why’d you want that color?” he asks Blaine, putting his hands in his pocket now that he has nothing to hold.

“Hm?” Blaine follows Kurt’s line of sight. “Oh. Uh.” His eyes find Kurt’s again, then flicker up to Kurt’s hair. “I just really like pink.”

Kurt can’t find it in himself to hide his blush this time. “Oh… alright.”

“Yeah?” Blaine smiles. “Alright with you?”

“Oh, shut up,” Kurt laughs. Throwing all caution in the wind, he adds, “I’m not the one who admitted he’s down to fuck.”

Blaine inhales sharply. “I can’t believe Sam told you that.”

“Actually, you did,” Kurt says, tilting his head.

“Oh god, I did, didn’t I?” Blaine asks, looking like he’s trying to read Kurt’s face. “And… is that alright with you?”

Kurt wants to say something witty, or just confirm, or something – but his brain short-circuits and what he ends up blurting is, “I’m a virgin!”

“Oh, well, I mean… me too… it’s not like I meant right now…” Blaine mutters, visibly flustered. His face goes all red. It’s so. Damn. Cute. “I just…”

Kurt squeezes his eyes shut for a second, trying to focus his thoughts. “It’s alright with me,” he says. “Maybe not right now, but…”

“Gotcha.” Blaine exhales, and Kurt can feel his breath on his face. How did they get so close again? Blaine laughs nervously. “Wow, I’m feeling very sober all of a sudden.”

“Yeah?” Kurt feels a rush of heat streaming through his body. “Funny. I feel kinda drunk.”

They’re both silent for a beat, looking at each other, before they lean in at the same time. Kurt’s lips land on Blaine’s a little off-center but they adjust as Blaine pulls him in, threading his fingers through the hair at the back of Kurt’s head. Kurt makes a muffled noise, grabbing Blaine’s shirt on both sides and holding on for dear life, dragging Blaine closer, kissing him harder. He wasn’t prepared for how good this would feel. He wasn’t prepared for how much he would want to-

“Wait, wait, wait,” Kurt gasps out. “Fuck. I-”

“What’s wrong?” Blaine asks, concerned.

“I’m not… we’re not…” Kurt sighs. “This is gonna be a problem. We can’t-”

“Why not?”

“I’m… well… ugh. I have a lot to lose, let’s put it that way,” Kurt says grimly.

Blaine lets his hands fall to his sides, his body deflating.

“Don’t be mad,” Kurt pleads.

“I’m not,” Blaine says. “But I guess I kind of hoped I was a lot to gain.”

There it is again, the urge to smack his stupid head against the nearest wall. Why does he keep doing this to others? To himself? If he could just be himself…

Kurt takes in Blaine’s face, studying his eyes and those ridiculously long eyelashes and thick eyebrows that kept distracting him the first time they had to do an assignment together. He remembers how Blaine’s enthusiasm and his cute quirks pulled him in from the get-go, how he kept hoping they’d be paired together for more assignments… how kissing him just now felt like he could do anything and get away with it…

Oh, to hell with these charades.

Quinn’s eyebrows rise when she catches Sam and Mercedes kissing on the front porch, but they almost disappear beneath her hairline when she sees Kurt on the dance floor – goofing off with Blaine and smiling like an utter idiot. Of course. She should have known. He’d never tell her the truth, but it’s always been kind of obvious how soft he got around him.

“I take partial credit for that,” Santana drawls next to Quinn, leaning her elbow on Quinn’s shoulder. “He needed a bit of a push.”

“Who knew you had such match-making skills.” Quinn makes to turn towards Santana to grin at her but spots Karofsky and Azimio in the crowd, scowling. “Oh, fuck.”

“What?” Santana follows her gaze and balls her fists. “Don’t worry about them. They’re making those faces because I just twisted their nads and put them in their place. I have them under control.”

Quinn shakes her head fondly. “You’re actually a pretty good friend, Santana.”

Santana looks like she wants to disagree for a second but then she just shrugs.

“Yeah, yeah… just don’t tell Kurt.”

Kurt beams when Mercedes and Sam finally show up together, joining Blaine and him on the dance floor.

Blaine and Sam seem to be engaged in a secret conversation involving nods, winks and fist-bumping, so Kurt turns to Mercedes.

“Are we okay?” he asks her.

She smiles back at him. “We’re peachy. Or at least we’re gonna be.”

Relief floods his body. This party is turning out to be so much better than anticipated. And maybe, just maybe… everything will be alright.

[where-dreamers-go]

“Accidentally In Love” Bridge Carson x Reader

Calming and delightful. It was a regular blue sky day without any need to worry about changes in the weather. Which was good considering you were sitting down outside of a small bakery. You had chosen a nice little round table out of the way and tucked beside the building. What any everyday citizen who was lucky enough to work doing what they loved would enjoy. You were that person that day.

You were hanging out with Bridge Carson, your dearest friend in more ways than one, who you had met quite a number of years ago. That being known, you noticed he had been acting different today. He was quiet and seemed to be deep in thought. Not that it was an issue, but the fact that he looked...well...he seemed at odds with something, all hunched in on himself on the chair adjacent to your own.

“Is there something wrong? Bridge?” You inquired, leaning in a little.

Bridge peered up at you. He didn’t know what to say, but he couldn’t get himself to tell you what was truly bothering him. There was a dilemma that he had, he was in love with you.

It was overwhelming his thoughts, consuming his mind, and he couldn’t think of anything else. He’d tried. Countless ways he had attempted. Somewhere around nineteen, he lost track. Headstands seemed to only put you in his mind more.

The Power Ranger even wondered if it’d go away, the love, because if it truly was love that he felt for you then he couldn’t and wouldn’t ignore it. Bridge felt like he needed to confront himself and discuss it all, but he’d never been in love before in order to know what to say. So in his mind, he had been contemplating around the idea and trying to match his feelings to his findings. He knew deep down he had to make a decision because at the end of everyday everything would fall into place.

Wasn’t everyone looking for love?

Shifting in the chair to sit up straighter, Bridge’s gaze went to the concrete ground as he was still deep in concentration.

“There’s something that I’m feeling--that I have. It’s like I’m falling faster and faster, but instead of that sinking feeling in my stomach....it’s all warm and light and almost...fussy. Not a direct fuss, but soft.” He paused for a moment taking a breath.

You found yourself smiling softly, finding his words cute as well as thought provoking. To you, he was usually like that, however this was an entirely different route than his usual linked and trailed-out sentences.

“Everything seems brighter, refreshed, and it feels....breathtaking.” He exhaled, a grin on his face, “sometimes I forget about breathing entirely, which can be good and bad. Because I need to breathe.”

He couldn’t quite stop smiling even as the words seemed to fall right out of him.

“It will probably come off as...cheesy or something, but I don’t want to keep fighting it anymore. I haven’t found anything bad about it. None of it. It’s both good and sweet--the love.” The word foreign on his tongue even though he had thought it over and over in his head. “I didn’t do it on purpose.” He assured you.

Shoulders hunched forward and hands in his lap, Bridge continued keeping his gaze down.

You had to absorb all of his words in fragments. Yet no matter how you fit his words together in your mind, there was still one thing that it lead to.

“You’re in love?” You asked, half excited and half preparing yourself for disappointment if he didn’t mention you.

A question in the air and Bridge still couldn’t wipe away his smile even with a hand covering his mouth. With a couple of nods, he let himself look at you.

“That’s great, Bridge. Well, more than great.”

“You think so,” his brown eyes lit up along with the rest of his face, a new sort of joy.

“Yes, I’m happy for you.” Your hands wrung together, keeping your outer expressions composed.

At your words, Bridge’s head tilted to one side. His smile faltering.

“I--,” he clasped his hands together. “It’s you. I have these feelings because of--for you. I love you.”

Breath caught in your throat, jarring you.

Your best friend being in love with someone and saying so was one thing, but him confessing outright that he loved you was a whole other level entirely. Added how he was looking at you as if you were the most precious presence in his life. It took your heart and mind for a spin. A fall out of your chair spin. In your dreams you would had immediately embraced him or even whispered your own feelings in return. Yet there where you sat, reality had a way of throwing you off guard.

“Do you love me?” Bridge asked softly. His dark brown eyes appeared larger and overall vulnerable.

Internally you were melting, he was so incredibly adorable and captivating. Outwardly your shoulders relaxed and an easy smile found its way onto your lips.

“I do love you, Bridge. Very much.”

“That’s great!”

The brunette no longer was hunched over nor seemingly on the verge of sinking in on himself. He was quite the opposite. Bridge was a beaming light of happiness.

You were a bit at a loss for words. This wasn’t anywhere near how you would ever picture a conversation with Bridge concluding. Well perhaps you had imagined it once or twice. But this was not a dream. This was the beginning of something.

Bridge reached out with one gloved hand in your direction, beckoning you closer.

Standing up briefly as you both scooted your chair forward. The sound of metal’s high pitch screeching as it moved over the ground.

“Can you say it again?” Bridge asked once you were settled, looking at you hopeful and expectant.

It took a moment to understand what he meant. Once you did, you felt your face heating up as you spoke once more, “I love you.”

Bridge was instantly all smiles.

In that moment, the pair of you felt on top of the world. Powerful. Virtually weightless. Anything that you wanted could happen.

Nothing could bring either of you down. High above any worries or paved streets. Two people with a future to share.

Bridge absolutely loved that you were in love with him. Everything seemed to triple in emotions and blur out any surroundings.

Fingers intertwined. Warm. Skin against gloves. With touch, everything seemed all aglow.

Bridge never looked away from your face as his smile never ceased.

Glancing back up at him, you broke into a smile of your own. Again.

The both of you even closer together. Eyes locked. Knees knocking and touching.

You felt so much happiness and love charging through your veins. It made you feel alive. Truly and in the moment. Present and real.

Brown eyes peered down to your lips for a fleeting moment. Not quick enough for you not to notice nor react.

Your eyes flicked down to see his lips; rosy, parted, and smooth. They were closer now than before, gradually eliminating the space between the pair of you.

“May I kiss you?”

Nodding though your heart begun thudding in your ribcage, you shut your eyes gradually, waiting for Bridge’s touch.

Soft. Incredibly soft and gentle. Smooth as a flower petal. The kiss was sweet, but electric and full of vitality. There was an unmistakeable energy like your veins pumped light through your system. Warmth and assurance. Though the kiss only lasted a couple of moments, each was worth every millisecond.

Having pulled back, you both smiled widely at one another. A little breathless from such a short and wonderful bit of time.

“Whoa.” Bridge spoke briefly before he found your lips pressed to his, too overjoyed and already missing the feelings that were exchanged silently.

Your fingers found themselves curled in short chestnut hair. No longer holding his hands.

His arms encircled you. Keeping you close as everything felt new and wonderful. Practically pulling you out of your seat. He wanted to share it all with you. Everything.

The kiss was broken again for some air. Foreheads pressed together as you both had mirrored grins.

“I’m in love.”

~~~

(A/N: This is my first Bridge Carson x Reader that I’ve ever completed and uploaded. It’s different, I’ll give it that. It was inspired by the song “Accidentally In Love” by The Counting Crows. I hope you liked it. Bridge is a sweet little nugget.

If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

ko-fi.com/C0C4FW6I

Best wishes and happy reading.)

[novaent]

** This episode was uploaded at 12PM on Nova Entertainment’s official YouTube channel.

It all starts with the happy song chosen as the opening theme. After the animation gets its moment of shine, the trainees appear again in their broken line. The news of what their positions meant was already shared and now they all knew what the risks were for the following weeks. The only thing left to share was what exactly they’d need to do.

Hyun Bin leans back, looking around at the coaches beside him. “You must be curious what will be given to you this month, so I’ll let the coaches take over.” Yonghwa nods along before speaking. “Unlike the previous month, every week will be completed with a group performance instead of a solo. Your group mates are the ones in the same zone as you are, totaling in four different groups. The theme for this week is time travel.”

There’s a grin on Hyemi’s lips before she takes over. “That’s right. No one will be traveling through time, but we will be attempting. Each week, the groups will have to choose a song from a different time period to perform. Since the '10s are coming to an end with this year of 2019, it’s the best time to do it. The first week will have to be from the ‘90s, the second week from the ‘00s and the third from the '10s.”

“The fourth week, of course, will be explained on a later date,” Minsoo adds in the finishing details. “We’ll keep monitoring you, of course, and assisting you on your training. If I were you, I’d make sure to work extra hard.” Hyun Bin prepares to say the finishing words. “So work hard, or it’ll be your last month here and a missed opportunity at debut.”

A voice somewhere screams cut, a part of recording never showed before in the other episodes. The cameras zoom in a couple of staff members as they rush towards the trainees while holding colorful things in their hands. While they start handing them out, Hyun Bin’s voice takes over until the scene eventually completely changes into a drawing. “To differenciate the trainees between SAFE and DANGER, each of them will have to wear a colorful vest that represents their current position. RED means DANGER; BLUE means SAFE, and GOLD shows who did the best the previous month. It impossible to wear red twice as such thing leads to elimination, but the vests may still change owners after the next evaluation.” Different scenes show the trainees putting their vests on for the first time and then it all just cuts completely.

Ricky appears on his chair wearing the bright yellow as it was his right. “How does the gold vest feel?” The voice questions it. “Ah, this…” The boy lets out a quiet sheepish laugh, gaze falling somewhere below the right corner of the screen. “It’s heavy, to be honest.” He nods. “Not actually heavy, but… it feels really symbolic… maybe of my time training. It’s sort of like a big sign that says I have to do extra well or what’s the point? I mean… we all have to do well but it’s sort of like I have to do perfect. It’s not burdensome, but I feel like I have to keep working to prove, to myself too, that I deserve it.”

This time its Chaeyoung with the same colored vest on to indicate the title that she had won. “How do you feel about the results last month?” They ask her and she crosses her arms. “When I was standing there, I was feeling uneasy at first. During that time, I kept thinking, ‘is he going to leave me last?’ or ‘maybe I wasn’t surprising enough?’. I really didn’t like those doubts but I think it’s because anything he would say, everyone in the room would hear.” Lowering her head, she drops her arms and continues with her response after a brief pause. “Then when it came to me, I thought that if he had anything negative to say that I should view it positively and take that negativity as motivation to do better. But once he mentioned how impressed they were with my singing and rapping, I was so happy that I couldn’t stop smiling.”

A brief scene shows the exact moment she mentioned when she was still back in that room standing in line. “This vest…” Chaeyoung points to the piece of clothing. “To some people, they may think of it as something you would want due to the symbolism it holds. To others, they may see the person wearing it as a threat - a rival they have to overtake. But to me, it has a very unique meaning.” Shaking her head, the girl tries to explain herself. “MVP means ‘the most valuable player’.” Chaeyoung does her best to speak in English before shifting back. “Valuable is something that has great worth. We have P for ‘player. So that means we are a team and the MVP is someone who has significantly helped the team succeed. For me, I think wearing this reminds me that despite this being a competition, we need to work well as a group and I have to do my best to be the glue that can help make it possible.”

When her smile starts to fade along with the rest of the scene, something that has become familiar appears. The camera shows an image from the top of the girls living room, as it did before, and then it changes to the boys. While the images play on screen, the words on the bottom change from ‘Month 1, Week 4’ to ‘Month 2, Week 1’. It was the start of a brand new month.

Solji and Wendy sit together as they go through the lyrics, both of them wearing blue. “What did you think of the song when it first came out, unni?” The younger, Wendy, asks. Solji’s brows automatically furrow. “Yah, are you calling me old? The song came out in November of 1997… I was only four,” she noted. The years of their birth appear below them. While Wendy was born in 1998, Solji was from 1993.

“Unni~” The girl adds playfully. “I’m not calling you old~.” Wendy tries a pout for full effect. “I was only wondering whether the song was one of your childhood favorites.” The screen keeps showing Wendy, except now she is in the middle of her interview. “What do you think of this week’s concept?” They ask her and Wendy lets out a laugh. “Admittedly, the 90s were difficult, since at least three of us grew up aboard. Most of the unnies were still toddlers when majority of these songs came out, while Chaeyoungie and I were born toward the end of the decade.”

“How do you feel about the results” She sighs. “I was mostly thankful that CEO Hyun Bin and the rest of you considered my performance as sufficient enough to be considered safe,” she says with a soft smile that instantly fades. “However, I felt like I was complimented on my singing before being slapped in the face. Figuratively, that is. I mean, I’m thankful that I was given a direction on what I must improve on this month. But at the same time, a little bit of validation would have been nice.” Wendy smiles. “Being in the safe team motivates me to work even harder to show that I deserve to be kept in the project.”

The one next on the seat is Solji. “I feel really good,” she admits. “I mean, I know there is still a lot to be worked on, but I’m very happy with how the first month went as a whole. Honestly, to hear the comments give to me… I’m very thankful.” A smile appears on her face. “To hear Sajangnim himself telling me that he wasn’t expecting me to impress him…” she chuckles softly. “Well, it’d be a lie if I said that I wasn’t nervous when he started with those words.”

“How do you feel about your placement?” It is Sunmi now, another member of the SAFE zone. “I don’t feel like I deserve my spot in the safe zone.” They ask her if she’s insecure. She shakes her head. “My performance this first month wasn’t the performance of a five-year trainee and for that, I should be in the danger zone. It wasn’t a good performance and honestly, the group performance, in the end, didn’ help my standing much either.” When they ask her if she thinks she did worse than everyone, she shrugs.

“I can’t really say if I was really the worst of the group but you have to evaluate everyone fairly. The fair thing would be to evaluate me as someone with more experience than half of them there. So for someone with my caliber of experience, I did badly. It’s just the reality.” Sunmi looks off for a moment. “I think people should learn to be more self-critical.”

The girls in red sit together in their own circle. It’s not easy to know you’re in danger and that much is evident in their faces. “So-” Yongsun decides to be the first to speak. “This is unfortunate but at this point, we got nothing to lose and everything to gain,” she nods her head. “How do you feel about the results?” The voice asks her this time and the girl leans back on the chair, glancing down. “Somehow, I felt lacking- Hyuna suggested the song for the last week and I thought it wasn’t a bad pick but none of the other songs were good picks either.” She smiles anyway. “I wasn’t eliminated but punished because I had been a trainee for a less amount of time. Not prepared enough and then I don’t stand out enough.”

When it’s Hyuna’s turn to speak she doesn’t sound too enthusiastic. “I have nothing to say. I feel the same as I did when I started this show.” She shrugs, reaching up to pull onto the blue vest. “I’m safe. There is nothing else to it. I suck at dancing. I’m good at rapping, which is something the public already knew.” After that, she takes a deep breath. “Can I leave now?

There are two girls now side-by-side. The cameras stare at them while they stare at their own lyrics sheet. Meiqi knocks a fist against her head to her to focus. “Sorry, I zoned out for a second,” she laughs dryly before continuing. “Are you sure we should give me that many parts? Hyun Bin said my singing isn’t that good so maybe you should take one more part of mine…” Yongsun is the one sitting with her and she quickly shakes her head. “No, I won’t do that. You need to prove Hyun Bin and everyone wrong - practice makes perfect and I’ll support you to the best of my own abilities. You just gotta remember the lyrics and I think you will do just fine.”

While she gives the other a smile, the background music clearly gets more serious. They focus on Meiqi’s reaction. “Was that supposed to be a joke or…” She looks down at her paper, taking a deep breath. For those who didn’t remember it, a flashback to the girl forgetting her lyrics during rap week plays followed by the CEO himself sharing his thoughts about it at the end of the month. “Yes, joke.” Yongsun nods her head, but the editing team makes it clear that the air feels much denser than the type you’d have after a joke.

Meiqi pulls the sleeves of her shirt over her knuckles when it’s time for her interview. “It was hard to hear,” she admits through a heavy sigh. “I’ve never… been criticized so heavily. But he’s right. It’s disheartening to hear it, you know? But it’s even worse when you know it yourself. When you think you’re decent, but then you make all these mistakes that you know aren’t you. When you let  nerves get in the way and you start doubting yourself at a level you never have…” Tears start piling up in her eyes but she doesn’t let them fall. “I know I belong in the danger zone,” Meiqi’s voice cracks, forcing her to take a deep breath. “But I don’t like being in it.”

The girl appears again in front of a camera inside her empty room. She runs a hand through her hair, pushing it back even when it’s not falling into her face. “You know that saying? ‘New year, new me’?” Meiqi switches to English for the common phrase and then goes back to Korean. “I want to change it to ‘new month, new me’ because that’s how I feel right now.” She giggles, tosses her hair over her shoulder and continues. “Cam, do I look good in red? I’m going to do my best to look good in another color. Make sure to cheer me on, okay?” The girl pouts. “To everyone who believed in me, I’m sorry for disappointing you. I’ll work hard so that I can be a Meng Meiqi that you can proudly say you are a fan of.”

Someone else is fidgeting with their vest, and it is still very red. Kaeun tries to straighten it out, but it proves to be difficult. “Honestly, I thought that was the end for me. I wasn’t expecting this division, per se, but I’m glad to stay a little longer. I think I’m starting to grow attached to this place and the training, a little. Sajangnim’s words… aligned with my thoughts. I’m still searching for what I truly hope to do as a trainee, and it’s not easy.” She smiles, hands resting on her lap as she speaks. “And I was thinking maybe, just maybe, I want to rap and dance. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and there probably isn’t enough time to become an amazing rapper, or dancer, all at one go. How many steps I can progress, I’d be happy with that alone.” The girl nods, leaning against the chair slightly. “Also, this red vest isn’t all that bad looking either. I think it stands out.”

Chaeyoung walks inside an empty practice room and remains still momentarily while closing her eyes. While she does so, a text appears on the bottom of the screen to let the audience know that was not a still picture. The girl finally opens her eyes and looks at the came, getting a bit closer to wave. “Hi! I don’t know if the other member told you, but we’re going to be performing ‘I’m Your Girl’ by S.E.S.” She chuckles. “But before I resume practice, let me end this talk with one of my favorite parts from this song.” Chaeyoung takes one of the water bottles and uses it as a microphone. She starts by humming the melody before saying the first line. “I like S.E.S y’all!” And so she turns the bottle towards the camera as if it would sing the missing line. The trainee does the same thing again before laughing.

The SAFE girls are the firsts to perform and the same song Chaeyoung had given the pleasure of introducing is the one that plays. It’s a famous song that even recent female idol groups made sure to cover. Being formed by only the best trainees, they make it a good and cute performance. The DANGER girls ended up choosing the same artist as the last group, but still a different song. The angelic aura of S.E.S takes over the segment and all the girls get to shine with their talent and dreamy visuals.

The week returns to the past, right after the results are given. Hosung heads straight to his room, climbs up to his top bunk and buries himself under the blanket with his face towards the wall. He’s clearly crying, but he doesn’t want to show that. “I’m fine,” he whispers it loud enough for the cameras to catch.

Someone else follows him into the room and the same path the boy had taken before. Hugo carefully slides in beside him, wrapping an arm around him. “Hey…” The other shifts slightly so that they could both fit a bit better but he’s still facing away. “Hey… congratulations on being safe. You deserve it. Blue never was my color…” He tries to lighten the mood with a joke but it trails off weakly. “I really messed up, didn’t I?” Hugo buries his face into the back of the other boy’s shoulder. “Blue is your color, it will be. Don’t give up hope, yeah? Show them why they need you, like you showed me.”

Leaving their bed behind, Hugo is the one who appears sitting in front of the camera. “I’m safe,” he tries to say with a smile but it proves to be hard. “I feel very conflicted right now. Last week when I was here, I was saying I couldn’t leave Hosung behind, and now that’s exactly what has happened. I don’t know what to do. I wish I could help him… I hope he can move up to the safe team with me. Then everything will be good.” He nods.

Hosung shows again, except this time he is with Haknyeon, another member of the DANGER zone. “Hyung,” the younger says. “This feels familiar, huh? Cat dog from the MGAs.” Hosung looks away from the mirror and towards him with a smile. “Yeah, cat dog from the MGAs.” Haknyeon continues. “Could you… help me a bit more with my singing this month? I don’t want to bring you or BamBam hyung down… I want to be useful!” He says, determined.

The smile on Hosung’s face turns a little brighter and a bit bigger. “Of course I’ll help you with singing. Although, are you sure you want me to? CEO-nim pretty much told me I sucked.” He shrugs before pulling Haknyeon into a one-armed hug. “Better than being told that you’re frankly an awful sing,” the boy tried to impersonate Hyun Bin to the best of his abilities. “I think you’re a good singer, hyung, that’s why I want you to help me.” He smiles. “Yeah, well, I think you’re a fine singer,” he replies patting the other’s cheek affectionately. “And thank you for thinking that I’m a good singer. If just one person likes it then it’s all worth it.”

Hosung’s interview is next to air. “What are your feelings after last week’s review?” They ask him and Hosung picks at the red vest to show them. “As you can see, I’m wearing red. Normally I love a good strong accent color but this time…” He takes a shaky breath before continuing. “Was I surprised by my critique from Hyun Bin CEO? Yes. Am I happy to be on the chopping block? No. I take full responsibility for not training my vocal techniques to the level that they’re supposed to be at.”

“So who in your group will take responsibility if you all should fail?” He opens his mouth but it takes a moment before the sound comes out of it. “I will take responsibility. We are all working together in a democratic fashion but I will say that I am the one who is trying to keep them on task.” When they ask him if he’s the leader, he denies. “I wouldn’t use that label, no, more like… manager? I take notes, make sure people are eating, drinking, and resting…”

It’s a practice room this time, and the people inside aren’t wearing red. Jungwoo holds onto his water bottle while he approaches Ricky with a smile. “Feeling good? I would’ve picked you for MVP too. You helped me a lot during the group week.” Ricky looks over to him. “Oh… I think so… I guess so. Thanks… I’m glad you’re here. You did good.” He glances down. “To be honest, I’m nervous. The expectations are really high for us. It’s important that we do well.” While he speaks, Ricky fiddles with the hem of the vest. “We can’t just show a better side of us than the other teams and leave it at that, we have to be better than ourselves. Always.” Jungwoo sucks his lower lip between his teeth, chewing on it. “I know.” There’s still a smile on his face. “I feel the same way. There’s not any less pressure on us being on this team. I feel like we have to work even harder now to prove we belong here. We deserve this.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t… offer to help sooner,” Ricky utters. He pauses, leaving an awkward breath suspended between them. The scene fades over to Jungwoo’s interview. “Haknyeon is on the danger team.” His brow furrows deep. “He’s got such talent for dancing and I thought his rapping was really good! I’m really worried for him.” The boy clasps his hands together tightly on his lap. “Of course I’m worried for the others too. I don’t want anyone to go home. But Haknyeonnie is my best friend. I want to debut with him.”

Jungwoo goes quiet for a moment. “I’m glad Ricky got MVP, though. He really deserves it, especially after last week. I was going to drag the whole team down, but he really helped me with my part, and he did his own amazingly too. Wow, he’s really a force to be reckoned with.” Meanwhile, Haknyeon appears to share some similar feelings to Jungwoo when it comes to him. “It’s tough. Terrible. I let myself down.” He pauses. “If I’m being honest, I feel angry at myself. At the start of the week, I couldn’t stand to look at myself in the mirror because seeing the red uniform made me so sad.” He looks down at his uniform and grips at it. “But I felt that… I should channel that anger and sadness differently. You know, to not let myself down again. I want to debut.”

SAFE boys start to follow along about the same path as the girls did as they take on a bright concept to start things off. The song picks are quite a contrast to what’s famous nowadays and the style change is quite apparent. The DANGER boys go for something more intense instead. The rap-heavy song features a demanding choreography which the three boys manage to handle through most of the song. It’s only the first week, but things were already getting interesting.

The camera shows an image from the top of the boys living room, and then it changes to the girls. While the images play on screen, the words on the bottom change from ‘Month 2, Week 1’ to ‘Month 2, Week 2’.

The girls are shown enjoying their meal at the common room as it’d be expecting them to. It cuts to the inside of one of the bedrooms where Sunmi sad with a packet of chips in her lap and tears in her eyes. She turns to the nearest camera and wipes her tears. “I’m alright,” she says. On the other side of the door, Wendy leans closer to the door and appears to understand what was happening inside of it. The girl returns with a cup in hand and enters their room. “Sunmi unni? Are you okay? I brought you some tea.” The girl sets the drink on top of the dresser. Sunmi doesn’t appear too interested in it. “I know that fate works mysteriously but it sucks, you know?”

“How do you find working with the girls from the safe group?” They ask Hyuna. “I love it,” she replies in a heartbeat. “I really, really like it. Everyone has something they add to the group and it’s really refreshing to see them all work hard and adapt, help each other. It’s a motivating environment. I wish we wouldn’t change. Is that selfish?” She asks, grin pulling on her lips as she laughs. “Being in the safe group is a first for me. Nova likes their dancers, and I’m… I’m working on it, but I have quite a long way to go before I even manage to get on the level of some of the trainees here, like Sunmi, for example.”

Wendy is the one to appear after her. “What’s different about this song compared to the previous weeks?” The girl looks pensive before she gives her reply. “We rarely get to do playful and flirty songs,” she says with a fond smile. “This is our chance to show off our fun and sexy side!” She bursts out laughing. “What’s the biggest challenge for you this week?” And she replies making a face. “I’m not sexy enough,” she answers flat-out. “I mean, you’ve seen the girls I’m with, right?”

The scene changes to Wendy as she tries making flirty faces at the mirror. She giggles at herself before winking. “Unnie~” She whines at Hyuna who is beside her. “How do you do it?” The other lifts her eyes from her lyrics sheet. Hyuna blinks for a second before moving closer to the younger. Instead of doing a wink, she looks at Wendy and lifts her hand to gently grab her chin and make her face her before winking at her. Wendy blinks and maintains eye contact until she starts to laugh.

Chaeyoung appears on her seat sporting the golden vest people aimed for. “I felt that I was experiencing so many emotions at once, especially this week? I couldn’t help but wonder a lot. For example, last month we were evaluated on whether we could sing, dance, and rap well, right?” The girl begins to explain her train of thought. “Then on the fourth week, we were given a task where we had to incorporate that because that’s what you see some idol groups do. But this week, I kept contemplating moreover what is the purpose of this month’s missions? Was it a review for us to see the history of music throughout the decades?”

She purses her lips as she shakes her head. “Then during the song selection process, that’s when I began to think ‘what if Hyun Bin sajangnim is testing us to see if we can adapt to various concepts?’. If we stuck with the same one throughout this month, that would be a boring performance, wouldn’t it?” Chaeyoung confesses out loud. “At some point, I even asked myself ‘what if he wants to see us adapt in general? Both in concepts and roles?’ Like rappers singing and singers rapping?” The girl tilts her head. “I thought about that a lot and it reminded me of theatre. When the actor cannot perform on stage, you have the understudy. They have to be ready for anything that could happen. Throughout this week and last week, I imagined myself as that.”

“It’s been… interesting,” Solji nods her head. “When the mission was first given, it didn’t seem that difficult, but then, as we got to picking out the songs, we realized that we didn’t know the earlier years as well as we thought. And then, of course, the later years are just so jam-packed with music that we’re much more familiar with so it was decision overload,” she chuckles. “But I think having more options is good. After all, we can talk through why something would work better than something else.”

Kaeun takes her sit, a girl with a red vest. “I liked this week’s challenge a little more, I think? S.E.S sunbaenim’s song is a long-time classic, but this week’s song was something that I sort of grew up with a bit more? It fits us, or that’s what I like to believe. Always be confident in yourself, right?” She shows a smile with a finger gun. “There’s more of a strong rap focus this week. I think that makes me nervous but, a little heart fluttering? Being in a smaller group really made me realize how much work one had to prepare because we all want to come out of the performance doing well. Since there’s only 3 of all, each of us has to do our roles really well, that’s how we help the group”.

One of her groupmates appears next. “How was our performance last Sunday?” Meiqi chews on her lower lip. “I think it went well…?” She raises her tone slightly at the end of the sentence. “I don’t want to jinx myself though… I know I’m not supposed to be proud or happy of this thing,” she says while pinching at the material of her red vest. “But I’m grateful for it, in a way. It put me in a group with two hardworking, talented, truly beautiful people. I’m really happy to go on stage with these two by my side.”

It’s the same girl, but she approaches the camera with her hoodie over her head, concealing her hair. “Cam, have you ever wondered what I would look like if I was a boy?” Her voice comes out muffed and one tug on the string unravels it and her hood falls to reveal a dark, short wig. Meiqi does her best to imitate a smoldering look. “What do you think? From today, tell people that I’m your boyfriend.”

The DANGER girls start things this time around. They’re all dressed up exactly like someone would to cover a boy group song. Their choice is strong and intense unlike their choice for the previous week. It’s a good contrast and the three girls make a good job out of their challenge. The SAFE girls also went on an opposite route from the first week, but still different from the DANGER girls. Instead of strong and intense they went for sexy and flirtacious. It’d be hard to compare the two now that their concepts are different, but people always enjoyed picking sides.

Jungwoo is laying down on the practice room floor, chest rising and falling in desperate rapidity. “How are you doing?” He calls over to his practice partner and lays still for a moment longer before stretching out to reach for his water. “Feeling good about the trick yet? I’m not.” Hugo hobbles over and descends, laying half on top of Jungwoo, head resting on his chest. “Hold me,” and he drapes a jelly-like arm over Jungwoo’s frame. “Gross,” the other complains. “I sat here to cool down. You’re not helping.” Yet he does nearly nothing to push Hugo off, just a half-hearted little shove at his floppy arm that does not nothing.

“I hate this. Dancing is so hard, especially for me with no natural ability to speak of,” Hugo complains. “It is hard,” the other agrees. “But we’ll be okay. We gotta be.” Hugo starts to move around, sitting up. “Alright, let’s get back to it.” He sighs, and Jungwoo sits along with him. “I want to debut,” he admits. “And I don’t want to leave anyone behind. But we can’t all make it, can we?”

The boy sits in front of the camera and stifles a yawn, obviously tired. “Our teamwork is great,” he smiles. “Picking songs was hard, of course. We had a whole decade of music to go through, but we all seemed to be on the same page. Last week, I was sad about who I didn’t have on my team. This week, I’m excited about who I do have.” His practice looks about just as tired on his own interview. “I’ve been working extra hard. This week’s performance is no joke.”

Hugo proceeds. “I’ve worked hard for performances before, but not endlessly like this. You get through one week but it doesn’t stop, becuase you have the next week to worry about. I imagine this is what an idol’s life must be like during promotions.” He gives a nod. “Huidong hyung has been helping us a lot with our dancing. With his help, I think I’m improving a lot faster now. He’s a good leader and a good dancer, too. It’s really comforting to be on his team.” The man smiles.

“What are your thoughts on this week’s theme?” They ask Hosung this time. “I think the song for this week is… different than what people would’ve expected of us. More mellow and not as upbeat but it still does a good job on showcasing the rap skills of our two members. Originally, the vocal parts are really high so I had to adjust it to fit my range but overall I think we fit well together.”

Haknyeon shares the same color of vest as he does and proceeds with his own answers, nodding before he speaks. “I’ve been working hard. Last week we did a song from the 90s… I was born in the year 2000 so that was interesting,” he says. “We’re doing a song from the 2000s this time. I was nine when it came out, so I know the song.” Haknyeon pauses for a moment. “Honestly, it’s still a little tough, but I’ve come to accept the reality of things. I’m in danger but being sad and angry at myself won’t do me any good. I’ve been trying to channel all of… what I’ve been feeling into putting on a good performance.”

“It’s been a month and a half. Do you miss anyone?” He doesn’t have to think much to reply. “I miss my mum. I miss having her homecooked food, I miss hearing her voice… I even miss fighting with her,” he lets out a weak laugh. “But I need to make her proud here,” the boy smiles.

The DANGER boys go first, as the girls did. As metioned by the members, their choice is more mellow instead of upbeat but also allows them to show their skills well. Meanwhile, the SAFE boys are the one going for intensity this time around. It’s a nice contrast and it’s interesting to see how every group followed the same strategy, but each one of them decided to take a different path. After they’re all done, there are still two weeks left and the fourth remains a secret.

EPISODE FIVE TEASER: It’s the end of the second month, and the possibility of eliminations leaves anyone nervous. Flashes of red and blue go by the screen as the trainees give it their best. But there’s a twist, it seems, expect it’s nothing that can be confirmed through a teaser. As the show goes by its halfway mark, will your favorite contestants make it until the end?

**Note: None of the performances were shown fully, but separate videos will be posted IC on Nova’s official YouTube channel during the week of each trainee’s full performance.

[donnnoir]

Dallas, TX                                                                          June 30, 2019

Well Friend’s, although currently I suspect there are no readers of my crude blog.  Other than those that may have an interest from the Shadow Government’s perspective.  They always keep tabs and monitor my actions and interactions at large or singular.  An annoying fact of Life as me.  So hopefully at some point and time in the future an interested party will have numerous pages to sort through.  I am trying to get all my material under one or two roofs / forums which can and are accessible to everyone.  At least that is my hope and the intention of all this.  Granted it also allows me an outlet to vent some of my frustrations and the various events, occurrences and histories with this and more that I have Lived and experienced throughout my Life.  Now in such a spirit I am posting a electronic log entries after I arrived back in Austin TX, following the events I experienced in Southern California.  Which events culminated in my being shot twice in my left leg and subsequently ran over by an F-350 dually pick-up, running me over from toes to my head being dragged under the dual tires on the driver’s side of the vehicle.  Needless to say it was an interesting evening.  I was run over on East Anaheim St. about one hundred feet from the intersection with North Henry Ford Ave., on the south bound side of East Anaheim heading back toward Long Beach, I believe the location is still in Wilmington. With the location of my being shot some distance from there and that being approximately 325 North Lecouvreur Ave., Wilmington.  These events happened on or around the 5th of March 2018.  I was transported to St Mary’s Hospital at 1050 Linden Ave. Long Beach, CA..

The following are a series of electronic entries to an ad hoc journal at the time.  I Post this ad hoc journal in its raw form, the only editing being for the most part that of correcting some of the major spelling mistakes.  Hopefully I  have retained the jagged nature of my mind set at the time.  I freely admit that upon my return from California for the first time in my life I was showing signs of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.   I still have on occasions bouts associated to this PTSD.  I trust as coming events unfold and I have New Obstacles and Challenges to focus my attention and thereby forestall the elements of the Disorder.  Thus I Post this warts and all.  Without regard to its chronological or content of order. Because of this I will no doubt be covering much of the data, information and stories at a later Posting.  I will also be Posting the images of my hand written journal, as the loose leaf entries that I have adopted as my handwritten format.  Since every log or journal I have started has been stolen repeatedly.  So I now write on whatever loose leaf papers I have before me in the moment.  I hope to Post those as packaged folders Postings in their chronological order.  There is a degree of overlapping entries between this Posting and those of my handwritten entries.  Bear that in mind should you actually elect to read all of these.  Most of the entries some date and location headers.   I hope that in doing this that no seeming contradictions arise, especially since I am the source.  I welcome any inquires from any reader of my material.  Thus I submit the following:

Welcome, seems it has come to this. I am going to attempt to compose my thoughts and histories via electronic medium. My reservations must give way to practical realities. Not to mention the fact that each and every one of my previous logs / journals has been stolen from me. A immensely annoying recurring theme.

Thus I am going to try and make a virtual journal. Presumably I will augment this with the additional paper journal. Which will then be uploaded into a file of images. The hope being the combination will effectively accomplish the task. Towit that of providing a record of my life including events in the extreme. Additionally I wish to leave behind in some convoluted fashion my diverse understanding of things. By far I would consider the latter to be a far greater contribution to the brain wealth of humanity. I would like to think that should any of this writing come to light. It does so some time in the future . When the more fantastic elements can be seen in historical context. Such that what would otherwise be seen as speculative ventures into science fiction writing, will be known as simply fact. Because believe me when I say I truly wish and hope to be / will be wrong, regarding that which is to come. For a change!

Sigh… I must take a break, now. Necessity requires I consider many issues, not the least of which is where to start, and how best to proceed. Besides the fact I have not developed the requisite manual dexterity to type with my thumbs.

Monday July 2, 2018 … Killeen Texas

Sigh… damnit all to hell! I am having one of those rare days when I feel anxious, overwhelmed to the point of feeling trapped. I do not know if it is possibly PTSD related. I suppose I have to accept that as a issue with in me from now till the day I die. Regrettable not to mention humiliating for me. Granted, I suspect that the the cannabis Jade bought had a little something extra in it. So she could anesthesias more effectively giving her a reprieve from the increased infra-sound, ultrasound, microwave along with the entirety of the electromagnetic emissions I am at present enduring. I am concerned for her and her son Joey's well being. Despite her being one of the girls / operatives / victims of our government’s illegal covert initiatives know as MK Ultra. She is a bundle of contradictory issues and personalities. Your typical Golem. Her biological father is Warren Causey. He was George Bush Sr. right hand even prior to Sr becoming head of the Central Intelligence Agency. Causey was Sr's go to man for wet works and deep black bag operations. Especially if the back side had a tail which could be exploited for control of any or all parties involved. Causey is a true satanist and worse. He recently developed a rapid onset of Alzheimer’s. Not quite as sever as my own father and name sake Donald Paul Williams. But the timing of both though separate is suggestively coincidentally to events associated to me and those involved in FOXing me. I suspect brother Magnus of being petty. Grinding and hammering on old grudges. Along with becomingly increasingly punitive in operational objectives concerning breaking me to the point of my “losing” it. At which point and time my only anticipated options would be to appeal to their overview and / or full capitulation to their agendas. Thus far I have successfully thwarted their attempts. Yet it has come at an immense cost to me, across the board. Okay in anticipation that I may never acquire the journal I started last year upon my departure from Long Beach, California. A long walk beginning by The Queen Mary and which ultimately landed me in Salt Lake City, Utah. It is becoming increasingly incumbent that I reiterate elements I previously wrote down back then. You would think it would be a simple straightforward process. Naturally such is not the case, for a variety of reasons. Not the least of which are context and my desire to avoid sounding narcissistic, or worse disillusion. Yet failing to do so will ultimately end in me portraying myself as such, even more so. Besides I really hate repeating myself, sorta a pet peeve of mine.

To the uninitiated this is going to sound ludicrous and insane. However, any comprehensive primer would require volumes of esoteric information, along with accompanying commentary and should include appropriate citations. All from tomes that are closely guarded. That I am denied access to permanently and utterly. Thus it is best to proceed directly into the matter wading through the initial convolution, realizing by degrees it will work out becoming about as clear as mudd. The luciferains according to their Canon refer to me as “The Dark One”. It is an appellation pulled directly from their actual scripture as initially iterated  to Cain from lucifer, himself.

Obviously atheist may take exception to these concepts, especially the language used. There is not much I can say in response to their misgivings. Because their beliefs lack the framework from which to attach this model. Hell most individuals beliefs also in like fashion lack similar mental framework. Yet most have allowances or the tools where with the modular architecture of their minds are able to “build out” an additional wing to the mansion in their minds which houses their understanding of “reality”. At the very least they can entertain the blueprints to an “add-on” to their mansions. Similar to the operations of our minds “cognitive consistency”. Dr Richard Alan Miller is fond of noting “I would never have seen it if I hadn’t believed it”. Or by extended reference the belief that if you have enough information to postulate a coherent question, you already have enough to know the answer. You just have to convince yourself of it. The implications are profound. Stretching into metaphysics and the issues of faith preceding the miracle(s), and even magick! All topics I have and will continue to touch upon in my ramblings. But I go too far afield of my primary focus. Simply, I am The Dark One. This is both metaphoric and literal. For the few people whose sight allows them to to clearly see into the underlying spiritual realm of our world. Because all things that “are” where first created in spirit. Elsewise they would not exist or remain lifeless sterile elemental at best. There are also at worst case possibilities, but we will forego any such dialogue for the moment. Everything we see and interact with has a corresponding spiritual aspect providing impetus to the whole. Usually the spiritual aspect even resembles the physical expression, although at times the proportions differ. A fact that I know I will touch upon in other areas as topically necessitated. Nonetheless if one was to see our spirits they much resemble the physical form of our bodies, though a bit taller (note this is a foreshadowing hint, to a vastly different topic I Will Be Addressing. At times I may interject future foreshadowing hints, though sans the extensive explanations). Depending on the scope of vision applied a person may / can see many other things. For my current model I am going to stick to issues of direct correlation to what we perceive as the physical world.

Okay, yes I do know I tend to take a long round about, seemingly loquacious manner, almost tediously so in my explanations. This is due to the fact that words are nebulous, our ability to effectively communicate was fractured becoming compromised long ago. As a consequence, for clarity's sake I find this too wordy manner necessary to minimize confusion later in the discussion. By degrees we lose our way, or perpetuate our lost condition. Therefore it is by incremental degrees I am trying to more properly realign the various skewed beliefs we all hold. It is simple geometry, trigonometry or if you prefer vector math. If your initial bearing line is off by a few degrees, as you proceed further down its vector, or direction of travel where you end up will be considerably different than you meant to be. I wish to be aptly clear as to this fact early in my shared discourses.

Back to the proximate relationship of the spirit to our physical nature / condition. Also know that our spirits are gender specific. The entirety of humanity in this expressed Creation, the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve. Have migrated to this plane and place from Our Heavenly Home. That being a higher plane of existence, a organized realm of Love and Light. We, being all of us from Adam, Lilithe, and Eve till the last child of Eve is born, we are they that kept our first estate. Thereby earning both our right and place to be born here in this that by our common assent / consent / agreement we agreed would be real, thus we call it reality, simple. Wherefore, this being real by our mutual assent, means by extension that our actions here shall have real consequence to our station thereby effecting our progression. Those within Our Divine Family that rebelled and failing to reconcile back into the Family are denied participation in the progression of this estate and the subsequent assignments as to which paths we are to be assigned to in our individual journeys to progress back home.  Meaning, i.e. lucifer and the one third that fell (more properly “that were cast down”) with him. At times I will refer to lucifer as lucy or louie a small affectation I have over the years grown fond of as pet names for he who would seek dominion through his lies. Know that for my part I have always viewed our existence as an ongoing extension of the war in Heaven. Even as a toddler this was simply the nature of the world, in both a literal and metaphoric sense. Lucy is playing an end game gambit. As to our day to day offenses he for the most part cares little, seldom choosing to involve himself.  As I try to tell people; we can do bad all on our own, we don’t need the devil or louie's help. Matter of fact regrettably this particular Creation is an aberration. Most Creation’s do not have a Lucifer, who refuses to repent and reconcile, and worse yet becomes Satanish.  In so doing thereby becomes completely nonredeemable. Fit only to be cast out beyond the dark realms / dimensions. So far that not even a god could ever hope to make it back to Our Heavenly Home. Heady fanciful stuff, with a touch of discordance due to conflicting superlatives, I already know. From the presumed position of our understanding as a whole it is the best I can do with our shared mythos. The presumed contradictions fade as our understanding increases. Please accept I know little, next to nothing. What little I may grasp, has been fought hard to obtain over a tumultuous lifetime.

One of the hopeful eventualities concerning our collective situation in this Creation which I try to communicate to those that appear to show potential for understanding the following idea. Is that, Once we “eventually” progress through this Creation. As our then on going progression continues through multiple future Creations we will in all probability never encounter another such circumstance / Creation wherein any of those will again be with the added burden of a Satan / Lucifer persona to add complications to our individual, group, and familial progress. Who would threaten to usurp Creation from G-d and all of us. We can do bad all on our own. We really don’t require an objective excuse or archetype on which to pin our failings. If you are acquainted with the Book of Revelations, in its pages are the clues to understanding Lucy’s actual focus / agenda for our Creation. For we are eternal beings, Children of Divine Parentage. We live through infinite eternities, progressing and striving to Perfect Ourselves unto the Image of Our Heavenly Mother and Father. Now I sound like a some traveling revivalist preacher. Might as roll out the tent and tambourines, hahaha.

Wednesday July 4, 2018 – Killeen, Texas

Well happy 4th of July, U S of fucking A. Not to be cynical, but here we are celebrating another Independence Day in the Land of the Free. The irony is inescapable. Sadly too many individuals become distracted and lost in the perpetually shifting landscape of dysinformation. Yes the horrors these people revile against are very real and indefensible. Except in the losing of perspective, failing to see that these innumerable struggles are purposely being generated to engage the population to distraction. Usually these horrid distractions are set cross ways of social and cultural lines. This formulaic tactic is meant to ferment hostilities, hate and conflicts across the associated strata. This has been repeated throughout history to create wars, fracture our social structure, warp our values, and indoctrinate the population en mass with beliefs such as to reshape our view of reality shackling all of us to a diminished image and sense of self along with the entire human race. Once we accept this warped view as the archetypal potentiality of us all. We are guaranteed to sell ourselves and our brethren into slavery. In due course I will be discussing at length the geopolitical history within the framework of our limited knowledge of what we recorded since the flood. Rather what we have been permitted to know of said records. The fact that much as been redacted from the common brain trust passed on to us via academia. Those alabaster halls occupied by self appointed guardians of the approved versions of knowledge and information released to us vulgar unfortunate masses. So burdened, I shall pass this Holiday celebrating the antithesis of its traditions.

Continuing in the same vain as previously began prior to the day’s celebrations, in much the similarly convoluted fashion as before… I, The Dark One of Occultic Lore. I have been told; that I have done things no one in the history of the world has ever done previously. Personally I can only cite one quality as being demonstrative of such high praise. Though in all honesty I am more often than not being chastised for lacking focus, being lazy, acting the fool in the face of my enemies, or being cavalier in my affections, or placing myself at undue risk of life and limb, and the list goes on and on ad nauseaium.  This from the select few who know and understand who and what I am.  Those who may actually care about me, and would see me fulfill that which I have been foreordained to do whilst sojourning here. The totality of our circumstance here, now at this moment, we soon shall enter perhaps the most critical and precarious point of our history and that of this Creation.  I am all too well aware of this along with that which shall soon come to pass shortly.  This awareness, I experience across multiple vectors while being cognizant of a sea of permeations which ultimately stream toward a specific Crux in Our Familial Aggregation (I am trying to develop appropriate nomenclature – wherein I avoid certain more readily common labels or descriptors and/or appellations. Whose usage has been subverted into the double speak practiced by the various satanic and blood occultic families which run the world. Who have ritually (via trauma) conditioned and indoctrinated their acolytes, golems / victims to hear and respond to accordingly, never in a positive manner. Wherefore it is incumbent upon me whenever possible to avoid affirming these, even to the point of reinventing the ascribed nomenclature.) within this Creation. As a consequence I must stumble through idiomatic constructs, ungainly though they be. Believe me if you knew and understood the actualities ascribed to words and the double or multiple meanings applied to them within the Families. The evils, the pain, the denigration of the individuals / victims usually by those nearest them; ultimately by extension it eventually infects and corrupts societies unto the world at large.  You would weep an endless river of tears unto filling the seas, if you could see this in your minds eye properly.  As long as this perniciously malicious spiritual / familial / multi-generational / social / cultural pathogenic practice continues, our struggles will end in naught. Hence into this morass I must seek to keep my appointed task. How best to explain this? I have spent the majority of my life in the haze of denial.  Avoiding my differences.  Putting off my preparations for that which is to come.

Since approximately twenty four plus months prior to Operation Jade Helm our covert Intelligence apparati, including elements of the ruling shadow government began a concerted effort at Foxing me. The on set of Operation Jade Helm and its scope marked an exponential increase in expanded efforts against me.  Now, let me make clear Operation Jade Helm’s purpose was not solely to target me, there where many targets across the greater portion of the United States of America.  Death dealers and various squads of assassins executed / murdered an increasing number of American Citizens, most had been identified for some time to be exterminated.  Impunity seems to have become the operational by word.  The extremes demonstrated continuously since that time defy all reason. Defining the architects of this action as being criminals is almost quaint.  This level of criminal insanity goes beyond the point of being treasonous. With the majority of resource allocation comes from “military Intelligence” which then utilizes other military resources and supplies.  Thus it is that we have been duped into financing our own demise.

For purposes pursuant to their agendas, they have labeled me a domestic terrorist.  Thereby presumably justifying illegal exercises and persecution of my person.  Rationalizing by extension similar acts against my family and anyone I may care about and or Love. Death for them would be preferable to the horrors their personages have been and are being subjected. I know I sound ludicrously paranoid with delusions of grandeur in the extreme. Hahaha….  gosh how I wish, hope and pray such were the case. I make this record in defense of myself and my actions. Naturally I fear all my good intentions with their accompanying actions are for naught. I realize that upon my death as allotted to the sons of man, as to the first part, my character will be maligned in the worst manner possible.  A issue I will address at length later in this on going exposition of myself and my misadventures as they may be.

Thursday July 5, 2018.  Killeen Texas

Despite my misgivings it seems I survived all the pops and bangs of our nosiest of American Holidays. A joyous circumstance to be certain. From now till my last day of my allotted life as unto the children of men, my life hangs in the balance. The ante to live my life as it were.

My current accommodation over the past almost six weeks has been with an old flame and friend Jade Causey – Chamlee, and her 18 year old son Joey, whose given name was Freddie. Bless their souls for extending to my worn out arse a place to stay and recover. Regrettably my physical recovery is taking much longer than I anticipated. I am fully aware my expectations regarding the time necessary for a complete recovery was / were unreasonable. But I need to set the bar high to keep from being complacent. Now had my situation been inclusive of adequate financial resources I would be at least relatively close to my timetable. I would have had access to better medical, dietary, living and therapies. Hell my injuries would have been properly tended to at the hospital in my initial admittance. Instead I continued to be the object of curiosity and experimentation. With little consideration to trying to give me appropriate medical care. I have come to know what to expect, due largely to my younger brother's general attitude. Wherein he rationalizing what him and others do to me, as simply a matter of effect associated to the who and what I am. It is rationalized that if  I, Donn am this special chosen person than he/I should be able to survive everything, whatever it may be.  Because if he/I don’t than obviously he/I am not that special and thus not protected from on High.  Horrific logic used to rationalizing a growing list of atrocities committed against my person. A ugly fact of my reality, one I anticipated. What issues make this whole fucked up process unacceptable, malicious, acutely painful and unforgivingly egress is the manner by which they have targeted and used others. Especially my younger brother, father, son, Tiffany, Revaka, Heather, Angie and numerous others. They have been tortured, abused and treated as disposable commodities. All are scared and precious, some are very unique with abilities reaching into arenas not generally accepted or understood in today’s world view. Yet these individuals are denigrated, abused in some of the most deviantly sordid manners. Most are ultimately destroyed, first robbing them of their minds, bodies and in some final insult of their very souls. As it appears that they are being harvested for physical vehicles to have demons placed in their bodies. Yeah, I suppose I could say it in some sort of more politically correct parlance as “aliens” from a lower resonating dimensional reality / realm. Somehow I find that by doing so it fails to communicate the malicious evil inherent in the process. I find the old nomenclature to communicate the Truer meaning. Though some eras of our past carry their own obvious failings magnified exponentially by ignorance while fueled by misguided zealotry. They were not called the Dark Ages for nothing. Similarly different cultures, societies, periods, places and times have fallen to various abysses of Darkness. We have this false mental image of life on Our Earth proceeding in some linar fashion from primitive man (including Adam, for those of a theological inclination) struggling out of caves. Fighting against their own primitive brain / mind which was trapped in a diminished brain pan capacity from questing for fire against ignorance and superstitions. With us being the cumulative beneficiaries of this on going process. Peoples of those ancient times could not have been as intelligent as those today. Therefore they could not have grasped the concepts we do. Some of the most ridiculous fallacies of logic ever presumed to rationalizing and justify conduct or beliefs. Matter of fact the inverse is actually True. But what the fuck could I possibly know!

Sadly my frustrations are rearing their collective heads as it were in my writing. I wish I had been more diligent in securing my journal I started last year upon my departure from Long Beach towards Utah. I was more focused recording relavent issues in a contemporaneous fashion. Not to mention a considerable investment in explanations dealing with a variety of associated topics. Grrrrr… all I did then was walk and write. I may soon be in a recurrence of such, shortly. I can no longer abide where I am. All the more so under these conditions. Deep in my mind I am aware of happenings which require my attention. Not to mention my friend’s household is not psychologically conducive to my state of being. At least not in a healthy way, good intentions not with standing. My largest obstacle to my leaving believe it or not, is my need for acceptable footwear. Flip-flops aren’t going to cut it. Hell they are wholly inadequate to even walk just up the street a block or two. I must admit the sidewalks and streets of California were well suited for walking.

Monday July 9, 2018.  – Killeen, Texas

As Pooh would be apt to say, “Oh bother”. I feel for the most part Tigger. Bouncing all about spinning, twisting, flipping… as well on my head as my tail. I am most acutely wanting to find my focus once again. My communication skills seem heavily compromised. Not that I was ever able to write as effectively as the great Nobel Laureates. Generally speaking I could at least maintain some linear cohesion in my writing.  Physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally I am shaken.  Much as if my being was trapped in the tremors of advance Parkinson’s. In similar fashion my expressed thoughts and experiences lack focus, my abilities at lucidly articulating my larger life occurrences is choppy at best. Failure is NOT an option! No matter how I feel or how events are or may effect me, I must regain my composure and find my center. While reacquiring my skills of teaching and sharing what I have learned.  Please excuse me if I don’t edit the foregoing entries. As convoluted and murky as they may be, their relevance contemporaneously can not be diminished. Hopefully they will in due course provide a benchmark to juxtaposition future writings and notes thereby effecting a glimpse into my state of being at the time of writing.  Grrrrr…….

They have done a very good job of isolating me. All the more so, as I try to come to terms with the potential cost to those I would seek commerce with across all levels of our socioeconomic strata.  If what I endured while being the object of a Foxing protocol by our shadow government’s covert intelligence community are any indication. Anyone who associates with me, either at mine or their initiation is subject to become targeted for retribution as punishment to me. Too high a cost to blindly impart with out consideration to finding possible means of mitigation. Or at the very least terms whereby I am ultra selective with whom I interact. Along with the rationale for said interactions. Soon enough our social dependency will require I abandon all such pretext or attempts at shielding anyone from consequence. I fear that time shall be upon us/me far too soon. Perhaps I am again being exceedingly naive. My efforts are most probably for naught. An on the at large canvas of the bigger picture my presumption at damage control will only result in a larger area and impact of effect upon our society as a whole. Not that I am some savior or prophet, far from it actually. In the grander scale of things, I might best be referred to as a “wild card”.  Meaning that in any analysis of the interaction of variables, one may with a degree of certainty predict the outcome of any issue, contest, conflict even war. However should certain individuals or a very small dynamic group of individuals enter the forum. Suddenly the landscape of the matter shifts radically to the point that the original outcome no longer applies or is meaningful. We have numerous examples of such occurrences throughout our histories. Of salient import to us here in America is The Battle of Thermopylae, and the 300 Spartans. We all learned about continents in school. Did you ever notice that Europe and Asia were counted as separate despite being one land mass. The reason is that Western Culture and Asian (Oriental) Cultures being vastly different it was traditionally ascribed to them being two separate continents. We may naively presume to ridicule such a blatant indulgence as arrogance. Yet there are fundamental reasons for this error being valid. We as the heirs of Western Culture, need to understand the mythical / legendary impact of these distinctions upon our mameic memory, especially those of us of the West. From Greece to Rome, then following our Angelo – Dutch (Iberian) roots it is transmitted to us. The importance and permanent impact of the actions and sacrifice of Leonidas and 300 Free Spartans against over a 1,000,000 servile basically slaves to a potentate deemed quasi divine, carved out a legacy of Freedom which stands even today. An Epic “wild card”. There are many others, most are lost to us today. With the occasional exception that survives in our Epics, our Mythologies, our Legends. Most such stories are the blending of factual events with older religious or semi religious traditions. Which aliteration was a common and accepted means of teaching the lessons of both convanents in a factual and metaphoric means. Much the way Jesus Christ taught using parables, allegories composed to have layers of meaning dependent upon the degree of understanding had by the student. So a natural continuation of this is to be inclusive of many historical events, along with the trans literal substitution of the individuals to those of prophecy or the the Divine or Angelic intercession of some ancient history. These depending on circumstance would be iterated and reiterated in verbal traditions to be celebrated in the retelling, usually in association to particular annual festivals. Such as the case with the Saga of the Norse Kings. A subject I hope to have the opportunity to entertain at length later in my writings, scribblings. The vast majority of my ideas, concepts, models and histories can generally be attributed to greater minds than mine. As has been said before, the reason I / we can see so far is that we stand on the shoulders of giants, those that have come before us. Yes I paraphrase taking a degree of liberty. More particularly to hopefully retain its original meaning.

Funny I have been much as I am, the entirety of my life. Before I commence an in-depth sharing of many of the somewhat unique occurrences and events that have brought me to this proposition in time. I wish to clarify and reiterate some postulates. Elsewise a portion of my own records and logs may well be used against me. Principally by interests who would wish to call my lucidity and grasp of reality into question, in the hopes of indicting or coloring my character via my words. No doubt they shall do so nonetheless. I only wish that my original is sufficiently vetted in the sane understanding of reality has to be a defense to my honor and mental facilities. Thus, again – I am No prophet! Nor am I an Alien. Hahaha… Nor am I some savior! As far as religion – I will say as was told to me by what would be termed alien contactees, or more specifically those that I felt and believed we’re genuine. Of the many I personally met back in the 1970s. According to these individuals as to the subject of religion and the Bible when broached to the various aliens these contactees interacted. All the aliens responded that yes the Bible was more or less correct and that it was wholly applicable to us, our Creation, and Our G-d. I know not at all what they say on the popular shows in the media today. Hmmm,…. As to my personal religious beliefs and inclinations, I am Mormon by conversation and have been excommunicated for many more years than I care to mention. By the way my excommunication was due wholly to personal moral matters not issues of doctrine or beliefs of Faith. So if somewhere in my upfront acknowledgements, you find me wanting of naïve. Fine, do or do Not as is in you, or as is your want. I make no apologies, nor seek to compromise in some misguided attempt to achieve an accord or consensus. Rather quite to the contrary, I share, present, seeking dialogue broader than an account of the happenings surrounding my life. Simply because I am appalled by the amount of lies and disinformation being used to indoctrinate the populace. Add to this the lack of corrected and broader views from the dreadfully homogenous perspective droning from damn near every sector. The present modalities disgust me, breaking my heart such that I would to weep day and night for Our collective Family. Yet better spent are my efforts in defense of the Truth and an improved accounting of our histories and circumstances. In pursuit of same I find I must submit my private life and experiences to general scrutiny. The majority of which I have never shared with anyone prior to the last six to eight years. I have desired to live a rather conventional life, for the most part. Realizing that soon enough I will forever be denied the Joy of such.

To this end and the accompanying process I submit some of the earliest memories and events of my life and childhood. One of my earliest, if not the earliest is being in my crib prior to the age of two. My father was working for numerous government and governmental contractors at the time. Naturally I don’t recall those details. Our family had just moved to Southern California. We were living with my mother’s sister somewhere in East Los Angeles. Their home was the typical Spanish Colonial. Anyone familiar with the style and form of such. Know that hallways usually converge into a common room, you cross to the hallway leading to the room you have as your destination. In this pass through common room is where my crib was stationed. Probably the best location for it and me. So the various women could occupy my attention should I become fussy. An many times this common room was an area where the women would congregate as my recollection is. Well across this room was a pantry closet, with selves and full of the sundry items found in such for the time. In the coming and goings of my family and relatives there were numerous occasions that would find me unattended, alone in my crib. It was during one such interlude that the commencement of a reoccurring vision / dream began. I having been left alone to my own devices (parenting back in the day). When the door to the aforementioned pantry slowly opened wide. A beautiful female Golem, her physique had the appearance of red bricks. Yet the contours of her form were singularly female. Rather she had distinct curves with aquiline sculptured features. Most hauntingly she had these striking blue eyes. She never spoke a word, her eyes spoke volumes to my initially shocked mind. As the sounds of returning relatives approached, she gracefully returned from whence she came. On the first couple of occasions I witnessed this I raised a bit of a commotion. I was not yet verbal, and in all honesty I was a late talker. Well the relatives thought I might have seen a rat. So they dutifully opened the pantry to inspection. The pantry was then as it always was, with neither a rat or exquisite Lady Golem. This parade continued off and on for the majority of the our short time residing at my aunt’s house. Usually the Lady Golem had those blue blue eyes, though green and grey versions are among the visits. Each and every time she would come to the side of my crib, moving her head, or tilting (cocking) it just so. Always her eyes full of questions and disbelief. Her eyes seemed to express; You? You are the one sent? Hmmm… You don’t look like much! Look more like a little wet rodent, but who knows?. This was more or less the sentiment expressed in her eyes. Following my first encounters I became accustomed to her visits and would actually miss her on the rare occasions of absence. Needless to say from early childhood I saw the “world” differently than others around me. I also learned to accept this altered perception without fear, understanding its validity within the accepted context of what is “actual” or the “concrete” reality of our existence.

If you may recall back in the haze of school days. During various lectures the teacher's would sometimes use what is commonly referred to as an over head projector. Depending on what was being taught, it was also common practice to layer over lays. These would either complete the image or at times super impose other images as needed. Sometimes even as multiple layers of over laid transparencies. Some of you more contemporaneously educated individuals may never have seen such primitive presentations, having known only power point. For those so blessed what I describe next may be Greek to you. For the dinosaur amongst us most should have some recollection. This model is the closest I can use to illustrate how the world appeared to me growing up as a child. Usually I would see what could best be described as up to two transparencies overlapping the “real world” in general. I could even lift these overlays to get a clearer view of what was being presented before me. At times these would both be at in the foreground of “reality”, other times both would be in the background, while at other times it would be split one in front and one in back. Yet there were numerous other configurations, sometimes completely unrelated to the happenings around me (foreshadowing alert). Gradually this ocular affect of the world began to diminish till it no longer was within my field of vision. By the time I was around sixteen to seventeen years of age this effect was effectively gone. Since then I have experienced this only a handful of times. I usually take a different approach, I will address momentarily. One of the proximate results almost immediately of perceiving my world in this manner is that I usually know the scope and degree that anyone is lying. As an adult it is not quite as prominent as in my childhood. Though there have been exceptions. As a direct consequence my earliest life lesson was in due course the hypocrisy of the adults around me. Everyone would profess such devotion to “the necessity” or importance of always “speaking the Truth”. Yet I would be punished to no end for pointing out the hypocrisy of the fact the adults more often than not lied as suited them. I learned to keep such to myself. Something I still do to this day. I tend to filter or make allowances far too much now as an adult. Invariably leading to greater complications. Besides transparencies certain images or objects would “float” across my field of vision in similar transparency manner. Some of which I could not decipher any context or meaning at the time or since. To begin to place elements of this visual experience I need to explain tangent events of recent.

The advent of the Internet and the information highway is as with most such paradigms, both a blessing and a curse. Dependent largely upon the nature and supposed inclination of man. We are all no doubt familiar with the media platforms of Facebook and YouTube. Like everyone else to some degree I have had occasion to surf around doing research or simply for mindless pleasure. Back prior to Jade Helm, when my Old Lady (though she was substantially younger) Tiffany and I were keeping house in Austin, Texas. I noticed a YouTube video regarding the Apollo 20 mission. Oh by the way according to my histories the Apollo lunar missions went up to 20. I wanted to see what was been discussed along with what twists and turns the disinformation specialist spin their distractions. Which if you can determine it sometimes conclude what they are trying to hide or if their direction of spin is a “z” vector you can sight 180 degrees opposite to determine the landscape they don’t wish you to see. You may consider all this a large investment of mental energies, it is just how my mind works at times automatically. Back to the Apollo 20 video. In the video there was some general discussion of aliens, their nature and origins. During this open dialogue, there was a series of various old clips. I presume were some how removed from the archives of NASA. Many of the older non-defined clips I was quite familiar with the images. Not because I have ever seen them as photos, images, clips or video. At the time I was floored, since previous to that moment I was unacquainted with their context or related meaning. These objects I use to see in the exact same configuration and involved in the exact motions approximately forty years earlier as I was growing up. Matter of fact judging from the age of the imagery I would have to conclude I was witnessing them contemporaneously as a child. Without the context of outer space or NASA I had presumed I was watching some complex interactions of some sort of strange protozoal life from. I even remotely as concerned they had some how become infected to my cornea, so prevalent we’re the objects across my vision. So striking was their imposition upon my sight that more than four decades later their association was immediate and most assuredly certain. One less mystery to worry about. Yet the implications are troubling profoundly. Both of myself and the world at large, considering how maliciously the world's population has been lied to and manipulated. The ends of which are too shocking and horrible to ever discuss. Although in previous conversations at moments of weakness I have divulged a greater portion than may have been prudent.

Wednesday July 11, 2018.  – Killeen, Texas

You may right so wish to ascribe or diagnosis me as having a form of delusions inclusive of all types of hysteria, grandeur, psychosis with severe religious obsessions. For what passes for psychiatry today within the public ledger domain, you may be correct. I would offer in defense a extensive lifetime containing a ongoing accounts of a similar or even greater note. Although I am not a Moses, peoples of another time would recognize me as being touched by The All Mighty, as it were. I will at least own any such appellation. Am I some righteous man deserving of beautification unto sainthood, I would argue Not. At best I have tried to be a descent man, who speaks the Truth as much as possible. I am burdened by an additional commitment.

Back in my youth, being around nine years old. I had a singularly profound series of visions / dreams. I repeatedly dreamt my death, accompanied by the various permeations associated to reaching same. The process took several days (nights) between three to five. Being so young I didn’t think to take particular note of the days my dreams were thus occupied. They obviously had a unique feel with a equally sensational intensity, they still abide with me today. I distinctly recall a voice of sorts coming to me following the last night of witnessing this panorama of my life's end (as are the days accorded to the sons of man). Now this voice which came unto me, I presume it was within the precincts of my mind. Not that it would have mattered greatly since I was alone when it came unto me. Nor did I think to ask from whence or whom spoke. I knew and could feel the light of our Divine Home as I heard the intent along with the presumed words. It was a simple dialogue, stating; “this is how it ends, this is what you have come to do. You need not do it. You have the right to choose. However if you are to complete this task. You must choose to do so now.”. Being a precocious and arrogant child, I immediately presumed that if I had been sent to do such, than the obvious was that I was the best candidate to accomplish the prescribed task. Armed with such infallible logic, I whole heartedly accepted my calling understanding it would come at great cost. Now granted, an understanding of the true scope or magnitude or the enormity of the cost or suffering I fully lacked. I have spent my life preparing. I have come to know that even at the prescribed time I will lack of my own what is necessary. I shall present to the task my all, trusting in Our G-d to shore me up to complete that which I would do. Subsequent to acceptance of this appointment I am to keep in the near future, my sight / vision increased. The frequency and quantity began increasing dreams, visions, revelations, transparencies along with my general perceptions increased. I now openly own the fact that I see the world through the eyes of the mystic. Only recently was my sight dampened. A heart breaking topic the occasion of which surrounds losing my Love Tiffany. The subject of which shall also be laid upon the alter for examination by the modern day augers. Find what fault if you will, I care little. Only know that matter and its accompanying are for later. I must at present attempt to continue in this established vain of thought recounting events long past in my short life. Besides the notations contemporaneous to me and my circumstances or any of the other tripe I have need to spew forth. Believe this, if I could accomplish my foreordained task without sharing, discussing or placing ultimately for public review any of this – such would be my desire. Painfully I have had to come to terms with the ugly reality I must prostrate myself to assure I am able to do what needs be done. Onward thru the fog, as it were.

Without going into specifics too much, early on I displayed another aptitude. Sometime around first to second grade. My Dear sweet mother recognized I somehow had a hand in the going ons of the other children that back then composed the group of children who had commenced to being around. Now my mother was blessed with a keen intellect. Which included the wisdom to not over think somethings. Instead wherever possible if there was a direct and simple solution to apply one's efforts to the solution. Thereby allowing life to continue on as meant. Almost elegant in its simplicity, usually quite effective in solving any problem, a quaint provincial version of Occum's Razor. Consequently the solution was simple, as she noted; “son, I don’t know what you are doing. But it is wrong. Apparently you need my help understanding that.”. There after I regularly got my hide tanned. Until sometime around the age of seven plus the realization that just because you could do something; does not mean you should. And that everyone is entitled to make their own choices. Afterwards the occasion necessitating my tanning ceased as a consequence to those particular actions. By no means did I fail to earn other occasions of corporal punishment as befits a young boy trying to find his wings, so to speak.

Growing up making my way through our education system of public schooling. I never cracked a book. Now one should not presume schools and childhood were smooth sailing. Quite to the contrary, in second grade my school in southern California labeled me “retarded”. Lacking a separate facilities or classes you were simply shoved to the back of the class with similarly challenged children. Nor did they have to test the child or give notice to the parents. Following a few weeks at the back of the class I began to demonstrate “odd” behavior. Which my always observant mother was quick to question. She went to the school and raised holy hell. In actuality it was more of a racially motivated issue. My parents being divorced, the school only saw my Hispanic mother. Being profoundly dyslexic, their initial assessment was that I was a Mexican, and you know you can not teach their kind. I was going to a all white school at time. Not to mention kindergarten in Watts. During the riots in 1965. I had to have police escorts to school. While I still have very distinct memories of the entire family sleeping in the living room with all the doors and windows blocked and barricaded against the rioting blacks. A sort of difficult time growing up. Believe me I know what racism is like. I am not going to hold my tin cup up on that lame ass subject. The fact that there are those in this country that hold onto this issues as the reasons for all their troubles. Or that there are groups and individuals who exploit this history for their enrichment. All this does is allows an ever expanding rifts in our society. The age old axiom of divide and conquer. Yet we all seem oblivious to this, instead we rush to our own deaths.

Thursday July 12, 2018,. – Killeen, Texas

Aaagh, fuck, damnit…. I fucking swear. Why do I even try to help anyone. Generally they hold to their own practices of appeasing the least common denominators by which they live. What can I say. As gracious as my hostess and her son may be. I doubt if I can tolerate much more of their dysfunctionality sans any self realization or objectivity. And they wonder about Joey meeting someone (female). I can’t imagine the woman who would find any of this manner or lack of is appealing. I try to maintain perspective because I do recognize the roots of most of the antisocial behavior. Even if it expresses its self differently than one may anticipate. I just don’t have the tolerance I usually do. In my current condition of convalescing from my injuries, makes me subject to the vagaries that define the lives of normal people. Due to the obvious singular quality of my life I have had to come to terms with the fact that I do not process anything in like manner as my peers. An before everyone thinks I am trying to sound all superior or some such, please note that I am continually making stupid mistakes principally due to my own naivety. We all have this aspect wherein we judge our circumstance and that of others from the pigeonhole perspective. Everyone else's view though differing from each other falls within a given area, or a few degrees of each other. Mine falls a extreme distance outside of what could be considered the norm. Nonetheless being very human I continue in the belief I perceive “reality” much as the other person from a similar understanding and values system. Invariably this attitude finds opportunity to smack me in my face by its differences. Each and every time I am recalled that, oh I knew better because I am fully aware of the differences and should have factored accordingly. Even now at this more venerable point in my life I find one of my biggest failings is naive belief in the character of my fellow man. Yet if my assertions as to my last day as are allotted to the sons of man be True. For the greater part I will be doing so for the entirety of Our Familial Aggregation. Even for those who seek only to cause me and those I Love and care about, harm or maliciousness. Because that is the way of things in our Creation. Soon enough the vile evil shall reveal itself, the kid gloves shall come off and life will never be this peaceful again. If it be the will of he who sent me I will seek to balance many scales of injustice. Till then I must endure and prepare as best I can.

Well enough complaining about friends who do their best given the circumstances. I appreciate all they have done on my behalf. Especially since to a large degree they grasp what potentially may be the cost. Even if in some small ways they may have been influenced by the same malicious or “Bees”, that seek to be the cause of my failure. For such is the nature of things in the abyss. Especially considering the length of time I have elected to spend wrapped in the confines of twisting throughout what we commonly refer to as “reality”. I generally feel more comfortable surrounded by its miasma and ickor than anywhere else. As much as it may appear to be a contradiction it ultimately is fact. Sigh!!!

For the time being I guess I will change the temporal focus of my entries. I can seldom stay focused on any particular time frame for an extended period. Doing so usually causes me to shift to the associated memories which become very visceral in nature. Soon it begins to become a tad overwhelming. All the more so once framed in relation to the present context. I sincerely hope that suffices and is remotely coherent. I am usually deconstructing my conceptual models and ideas into a form more acceptable to being understood. Sometimes I become lost in the process to the point I know what I mean despite the fact that the words and or syntax are nonsense. In conversation I sometimes have to stop and ask if what I have postulated or presented in the dialogue makes sense. I know it all made sense and sounded good in my head. Aaah but I can’t always presume to have effectively communicated the same.

Saturday July 14, 2018.  – Killeen, Texas

Well here it is the weekend, somewhere in Who-ville are working stiffs cheering at the arrival of the ritual with its time off. It has been interminably long since I have have lived a life so constrained as to include the simple Joy of a defined weekend of days off. Hell I am usually engrossed in my vocation daily. With my ever prevalent purpose always driving me. For the most part I have become unfit to be amongst civil company. Yes I am conversant. I am genial enough when in mixed groups. I tend to empathic of those around me. I genuinely give a damn as to the well being of others. Even so, the inescapable Truth is that the darkness is too imbued into my being. Because of the darkness of my spirit, I have become rolled into the ubiquitous abyss of our “reality”. Though it does not effect me quite the same as others its taint has woven into my fibers. Not being much of a liar I lack the necessary tools to hide it from general view.

Wednesday July 18, 2018  - Killeen, Texas

Well damn, I sometimes really get fucking frustrated.  At one level I am perpetually detached from the day to day focus and obsessions of everyone around me. I can’t bring my mind to focus on the general ideological concepts propagated by the geopolitical theater. Which resembles an episode of the moppet show as far as I what it appears. Are the offenses and injuries less or non-existent to my sympathies or moral indignation; not in the least. They still represent injustices and crimes which need to be effectively dealt with and hopefully the scales will balance. Even so, I just can not seem to get all worked up over these slight daily travesties. All the more so since I tend to view all these for what they are within the larger perspectives and plans of globalist / occultic families. Typical divide and conquer, or simple distractions from their primary objectives. I can appreciate everyone’s sentiments and attitudes that the scenarios of what is to come are not perceived as real or likely. Hell even I given enough distance and time begin to feel as though none of it is possibly factual. Except for the fact that I have lived a life associated to these eventualities. Even when I was in the thick of things all those involved would tell me bold faced lies as to what was occurring. As if to make me question the obvious, because the obvious Truth of the matter was outside any social norms. I guess there are those for a convenient lie is preferred to Truth too extreme to accept. I have been at this life, spending the majority of my existence living in the abyss. Which is everywhere, it co-exists with whatever social or cultural conventions occupying our realities of the moment.  It is ubiquitous yet invisible to all but those who have had the misfortune to have grown up in its mists, or the uninitiated. Due to my unique occular abilities I am sort of self initiated. It took me a little while to come to understand the meaning of this subset of our world. I have always seemed to rub against this sub culture, even as a child. A odd fact which has taken me many years to come to terms with it. Even then it was a process of educating myself to be able to grasp the entirety of the concepts. Though outrageous beyond belief, it is nonetheless part of a larger pool of knowledge I have fought long and hard to achieve. We are a phenomenal expression of life, even across the multiverse. For all our uniqueness, we are seemingly determined to trivialize who and what we are. More importantly the processes and manner whereby we are to accomplish our purpose “here”.  Truly phenomenal!!!

Yet I digress. I am simply getting on my soapbox, whipping the horse, so to speak. Grrrrr…

How best to convey some of the basics back into the discussions and open forums in our sea of opinions. A perplexing problem one that has vexed my soul for almost three decades. I suppose the real source of my reservations has principally revolved around my own reluctance to be centrist to any reintroduction in a general dialogue. Much to my consternation it is plain that to accomplish this and thereby facilitate me being able to keep my appointment in the future, I must find the where with all and means to personally become directly a part of our social dialogues. I can freely admit to my own megalomania. I try not to buy into it myself. I shan’t feed such feelings or Mali-adpted inclinations. What ever a person's tendencies, we fail our own interests in doing so. To the point of it becoming a all consuming psychosis. Our histories are replete with the villains who are consumed by base desires at the cost of all else. Not that such is my fear. Rather I prefer to do what I can from a position far from the limelight. We don’t always get to choose how best to accomplish our goals. My non-object oriented way of thinking I suppose. Aaagh, this is an area I would deeply desire some assistance. Not to mention the realities of presently being impoverished. I had best get used to my condition, I fear I shan’t know any other for some time to come. I guess I need to find the way and means to broadcast my ugly mug on to the internet. I guess I will start some YouTube type of series. I need to really get my act together!

Amazingly as we and our solar-system has traversed the apogee of its elliptical orbit with its sister star. This having occurred back in December 2012. We are now accelerating towards our sister star on the side closest to our Galactic Center. We will soon be re-entering the flows of Magick. They are part of the natural order of things. Think of it as a higher order of physics. We conveniently suppose a posture of superiority over some earlier more organic beliefs or systems of interactions within our realities. Although witchcraft, paganism, shamanism, and various other practices have been collectively maligned for associated practices related to satanistic practices (which Are very evil). In many such cases we have throughen the baby out with the bathwater. I am not trying to condemn nor make excuses, only to ask for a broader open review of these strangely different beliefs and practices.  Many times they are simply corrupted versions of our Judaeo-christian thought, beliefs and practices. Sometimes I even find missing pages of our religious histories amongst these. An to borrow a quote;  “We are too hasty when we set down our ancestors in the gross for fools for the monstrous inconsistencies (as they seem to us) involved in their creed of witchcraft.” - C. Lamb.

Friday July 19, 2018.  – Killeen, Texas

Now as to my disjointed quaint manner of writing, I am recalled of yet another quote from Webster’s,  “Prolix, Diffuse. A prolix writer delights in circumlocution, extended detail, and trifling particulars. A diffuse writer is fond of amplifying, and abounds in epithets, figures, illustrations. Diffuseness often arises from an exuberance of imagination; prolixity is generally connected with a want of it.” [1913 Webster].  As to which, my confused manner may be likened, I leave such determination to those who due to some pathological compulsions decide to continue on through the disjointed tediousness of my log.  Excuse my quoting, it but appears the best and most eloquent descriptive means external to my own critiques. Wherein Webster provides what I believe is a more accurate description of my loquacious manner and style of communication. Bleck, ugh…

On to more relevant matters. As I continue to play my game of catching up to the current state of affairs in my existence. Jumping back to around August last year, at the time I elected to take my leave of the Long Beach / Wilmington area of the LA Basin. The majority of occurrences I previously wrote down in a contemporaneous log as I walked out of LA ultimately reaching Salt Lake City, Utah. With a brief momentary stay in Las Vegas, Nevada. My mind aches at the memories from that time. Regardless, there may in the retelling be wisdom or beneficial information for myself or others. Sorry if some of this has a choppy feel to it. There are mountains of unresolved emotional context and histories, which continue to elicit extremes within me. I hate sounding apologetic from the get go. Not that any of the vacillating diminishes the importance of the material or what I endured.

In July of last year, my younger brother was arrested and placed in presumably Twin Towers downtown Los Angeles. It was involving drugs and a handgun. I saw him and the P.O.S. , earlier that night. I already knew there were going to be problems. Additionally I had been indirectly informed my situation was about to become difficult. No more niceness regarding my treatment, operational dictums were changed. Initially I was was acutely aware my younger brother was not in police custody. I figured he was being held some where on or around the federal facilities of Terminal Island in the Port of Long Beach. Later parts of my sight of his circumstances were confirmed to me, though the exact location never has been (foreshadowing). Sometime during the second week of his presumed incarceration. He digitally appeared in the system with the appropriate arrest date, and information. To this day I am not convinced of the terms and conditions accompanying this purely “staged” event. No doubt there were days he was in the Twin Towers facility. Anything else is highly suspect at best if not solely manipulated data for the purposes of the Op. Nonetheless, I was sorely put upon. Due to the determinate fact that whatever had previously as well as on going to date are the proximate results of his being “my brother”. I was aware my brother was not my brother. I later would describe the fact as, “my brother was murdered on the mesas of New Mexico 4 (5) years prior”. I freely declared the fact, even with my younger brother present. At the time of his arrest I had invested two years trying to awaken and heal his soul. During this ordeal, he was on goingly conditioned (subject to various satanic trauma assisted by ultra high technologies deployed by our Shadow Government for the purposes of mind control). I can not escape a degree of culpability. Many may seek succor in the belief that I was not responsible, nor the individual inflicting these horrors to my younger brother. I acknowledge the physical reality as being so. However the moral reality is that, We are our Brother's keeper. An for myself it has a immense literal quality. We are all part of Our Larger Familial Aggregation, what we do, say or do not effects all. While in my particular case, he is my younger brother – same Mother and Father. I have known what to expect from the future all my life. I have even attempted to convey this knowledge in abstract to my brothers. Granted I did Not know that in recent times the evil practitioners of these vile satanistic rites had made a huge technical breakthrough. It use to be, if an individual attained adulthood free of these practices or influences, then they would die free of its chains. Obviously a person could freely elect to cultivate any base desires or perverse inclinations. By “choice” being the operative mandate, those chained to the MPD / DID minds of victims of Satanic Ritual Abuse (SRA) are forever robbed of any choice in the matter. Not even I can “set” them free or the chains forged in their infancy and childhoods. I can only unlock the gates and offer them the means to heal. The process is long and painful, requiring more years than anyone can live to hopefully heal. Sadly as each victim is considered chattel to the perspective heads of each “family”, who is in turn property of another. Hence there are functionally twelve Satanic Patriarchs seated at the heads of their “family”. Under Satanic Dogma they consider themselves “gods” of their worlds. According to their beliefs you exist as titled property, if not than you are of no consequence thereby you do Not exist. The worth of you and yours is less than the trash sent to the dump.

Sunday July 22, 2018 – Killeen, Texas

Continuing with similar point of fact as discussed, it may all sound or would be considered linear, a straightforward affair. Appearing almost orderly, locked in some strange perverse dance. When it is anything but. Take into consideration the matter of succession. You might be inclined to infer that being Patriarchal, it is a matter of patrialinacal father to son. The reality is far from such Familial Sensibilities. Simply put, upon the death of the head of any household. He, who inherits is the male gains control of his clan by right of arms, or force. Basically if you are not yet feared enough to demand your seat as the heir to the estate. The one who rules does so because he has murdered and killed all the opposition by blood rite according to Antediluvian Law. Meaning you not only kill your opposition, the action is inclusive of all males of immediate consanguinal association. The wholesale murder also removes any potential blood retribution by those who possess an immediate claim to do so. Secondly it demonstrates to clan members at large the vicious response dissent will meet. Terror then substitutes conditioned context within their trauma-based mindset vicariously confirming that male's natural right to head that Family’s Branch of the Larger Familial Group. If you can remotely rationale order from such chaotic slaughter. You more than likely were raised under such paradigms, or your values are perversely twisted and I recommend you seek professional help from any school of thought practicing a highly structured value system, preferably based on some well established benevolent religion. Notice I qualify said using the word benevolent. Cause if you use the most liberal definition to the concepts of religion you could quietly slip satanism or luciferinism in as established religions. The distinctions are sufficient as to invite debate. One I feel is much a waste of time for all parties. Generally I ascribe it principally to a matter of semantics shackled to vastly differing modalities of operations defining values. Our time can be better spent educating ourselves up and out of overly cerebral arguments designed to trap us in artificial concepts posing as reality. A overwrought process favored by Academia in defense of entrenched theories dressed in the ideology we refer to as the “Scientific Model”.  Yes, I have great disdain for what passes for education and schools of higher learning. They have long since been co-oped into the problems they were meant to free us from being slaves. I will tuck that soapbox away now, thank you for your indulgence.

What is even more incredible is the fact that this insanity is governed by their own set laws and rules. They even have a court system with defined jurisprudence. Not any sort you or I could consider properly legal. Rather it is more a system to maintain the “status quo” based on traditions, precedence, along with a strange quasi religious tones from Antediluvian Laws. Even known lies are acceptable if left uncontested but those who have standing and recognized Familial context. Elsewise the stated lie will stand as fact, enforceable to the fullest extent to which the system can accommodate.

Now if you followed that loose explanation, allow me to attempt to give an overview of some of the semi-societal interactive relationship between myself and these psychopaths. Especially above the standing rank and file victims constituting the entirety of the Families. I have a singularly unique interactive connection to them, their Families, their politics, traditions, religious dogma, technologies of the Shadow Government, including possible contingencies for what is to come. It is a chaotic and confusing dynamic paradox. Perpetually in a state of change, in recent times there has been much difference of opinion concerning how to acknowledge or interact with me. Technically I am a nonentity, because I exist outside the direct consanguineous relationship, nor am I amenable to joining their point of view. I remain in opposition to them, their practices, beliefs to the extent of being fundamentally adversarial to “them”. It is worth noting I have been at this so long that everyone I know or deal with daily belongs to this subset of our society. Almost all my friends, associates, girlfriends or anyone else comes from some blood occultic families. Some even to what capacity they are able seek to support me in my efforts. I am alive today because some evil bastards simply decided not to do as they were instructed. Knowing full well the consequences for siding with me. Try to understand these individuals have lived corrupt malignant lives, they hate themselves but are forbidden to take their own lives. There is virtual nothing they can do to truly cause those over them to flip out or take offense. Yet they do recognize that my stumbling about is upsetting. Having run around everywhere doing what I do. I have always done so without a net, so to speak. It is a source of boarder line amazement, more particularly they think I am “bat-shit” crazy! Nonetheless I am still here. You may know people who collect body art, fashionably tattoos these days. I sometimes joke of my own collection of scars and injuries to my body. Thankfully I heal exceptionally well. Most of my scars heal to the point of being almost unnoticeable, if you did not know my histories. It is an exhausting hobby, painful too! A frequent refrain I hear while being admitted to the ER or ICU has been, “Mr Williams, you are very lucky to be alive”.  “Yeah Doc I hear that allot. Do the best you can.”.  It has become somewhat of a ongoing joke, amongst friends and family. These days those groups have become ultra thin. Another reason I make this record of events in my life including improved contemporaneous writings. We can all hope for such. Believe me if it was up to me, no one would know much if anything about me, or my life. I have been, or more correctly I have allowed myself to be forced into a dreadfully unpleasant set of circumstances, as I have whined concerning previously.

Okay Sherman set the way-back machine to the 80’s and 90’ of the last century. Seeing patterns across the country in the minds of crazy ass bitches, now I do Not mean that in a bad way. I have a immense affinity for beautiful crazy ladies. Now as I was saying, the imagery within their minds was too consistent to be coincidence. The language of our sub- conscience is imagery, archetypal, motifs, iconography, mythical, dreams, visions, will of the wisps and whimsy. I believe we all “see” much more of one another than we choose to accept. The largest hurdle to understanding is this compulsion to read or understand what we “see” before the picture is finished assembling in our minds. This tendency has been increasingly pushed into smaller and smaller bits. Which as a negative exponential inverse function has become more and more confusing as to be nigh meaningless with each subsequent reduction. Hence at a time when we should be more connected to everyone. We find increased feelings of isolation and alienation. No matter how much we communicate with our neighbors next door or abroad we have less consensus or feelings of commonality. We sequester these feeling with their accompanying anxieties, less we inadvertently offend anyone. Like what the Fuck! It is part and parcel of the Adult World. Being offended or offending others is how things get done. Usually for the best interests of everyone. Granted we should strive to be engaging to achieve our goals, short of violence or intimidation. Yet as any honest government would gladly concede. Once negotiations by normal means come to an impasse then comes negotiations by “other means”. The debased conduct of sordid persons is best met with our best foot forward, right up their ass! Like most animals, immediacy tends to be the most effective in correcting Mali-adpted conduct. Back to the horse I rode up on, hahaha.

At any rate, over the years I began to solve the underlying issues. I actually came to my own work arounds prior to fully grasping the centralized source or the impact of its implications. Years later I did begin to hear limited bits of information over the internet. Although it did take me a while before I started to correlate the “conspiracy theory” data with what I was “seeing” in women throughout the country.  Largely because few had any real coherent information. Eventually, information concerning Project MK Ultra and our government's Psy-Ops programs sufficiently surfaced to flesh out the details. As a child, young teenager I was familiar with the government’s LSD experiments for a variety of reasons, mind control being one aspect. Frankly I can not believe there are people today who do not know or refuse to believe that our government conducted such experimentation on the populace. It was just common knowledge in the circles I travel. If you read the Program Outline for MK Ultra it has an extensive list of lines of “study” information was to be explored, accumulated with a focus of deriving paradigms of control on individuals, groups, countries, cultures, and from that to the world at Large. The Globalist, New World Order, G-7, Trilateral Commission, Illuminati the individuals and their constantly shifting panorama of institutions and foundations are continually sifting beliefs and cultures in an multi-generational game of Three Card Molly. Degree by degree all the world’s various societies and Cultures have been manipulated via global misdirection with large quantities of restructuring of values and beliefs. Till everyone on Earth thinks good is bad; and bad is good. I should think we have all heard these arguments before, usually framed as the delusions of conspiracy theorist. All rather convenient as a means explaining away any descent or even an open fair discussion. Our social structure has drifted far from where we should be. Starting in 2020, everything is going to change and never be this pleasant or nice again. Well at least not till after the Second Coming. Hahaha, despite sounding …...

[greencrusader13]

Rogue: The Razimarr Quartz Story Chapter 1: Childhood (Part 1/4)

Looking back at this chapter for the first time in years makes me realize that my own style has evolved quite a bit. This is a part of the first chapter to the Raz story I started three-and-a-half years ago, practically untouched until I opened it again. The whole chapter is several thousand words, so I’m going to piecemeal it a bit. I’m also probably only going to upload the “Childhood” arc anyways since it’s going to be subject to the most revision and editing once I’ve completed what I personally consider the end of book one, and I doubt that there’s going to be demand for more.

Check out the #raz tag if you enjoy this, and feel free to like and/or reblog!

The miners moved wraith-like as they were once again summoned into the black depths underground as they had been every day for longer than anyone in town could remember. In summer they had struck rocks for hours on end, but found no coal. When autumn followed they worked until their hands were bloody and blistered and weak, but still found no coal. In the cold now they traveled down into the dark, hoping their vain hope that they would find coal. They would likely do the same in spring.

It was the sort of day that seemed moments away from snowfall, with the uneasy stillness looming over the mountains while autumn turned to winter. Grey skies overhead blocked out all of the three suns overhead, giving the world its only known manner of darkness.

Razimarr Quartz watched the miners march single file from his rock overlooking Coalfell Mine on the far side of the town for which the mine was named. Buried in a natural curvature of the mountains, the mine seemed a black spot in the world, delving deep into the earth without end. It was as good of a place as any to spend his time on a day like this. After all, there wasn’t any place else for him at the moment. Though he knew they would notice his absence, Raz decided to skip lessons that morning. His parents likely wouldn’t care anyways.

His friend, Terasas Feldspar, sat to his right, scraping his feet against the roughness of their rock. The pair of Catfolk boys had grown up together only a year-and-a-half apart in age. Being the older of the pair, Terasas was slightly taller than Raz, though the difference between the boys was marginal. All else about them was different. Red and ruddy-brown fur covered Terasas’ body, the brightness of which made him stand out compared to Raz’s dull gray and black. Terasas was loud, energetic, and usually cheerful. Raz found it difficult to match most days.

They had been sitting for some time now. In truth, Raz was unsure how long specifically since taking watch on that rock, but he wanted to stay for a little while longer. If they left now there was the chance they’d be caught by an adult and forced back into the classroom. Neither of them wanted that.

“I’m hungry,” Terasas said matter-of-factly, a cloud of fog forming at the words.

Raz said nothing. Not really any point in commenting. Hunger clawed at his belly too, but they would be hard pressed to find anyone else that wasn’t hungry to some extent. Money was not easy to come by, a good meal even rarer. Raz didn’t think he could handle another night of his mother’s cabbage stew, not with how much water she used, yet now even that sounded appetizing.

Cold wind swept over him, and Raz shuddered at the sudden intensity of it. His clothes – riddled with small tears and holes – were not in any condition for the imminent winter. His coat back home was little better, and Raz preferred not wearing it anyways unless his father forced him. Terasas’ mother Dinae sewed his clothing on the occasion that the rips became too bad. Raz’s own mother would on the days Dinae wouldn’t, though Cisna Quartz did little to hide her irritation whenever he approached her on the subject.

Raz shivered again, his claws involuntarily digging into his rock. Terasas noticed Raz’s reaction to the cold, glancing over at him with that concerned look he was all too familiar with: his ears would twitch back ever so slightly, while his eyes narrowed. The corners of his mouth would seem unmoved, but they always turned down into a pursed frown. The softness in his green irises always carried a reassurance, an indication of care.

“Mama could make you a coat,” Terasas said. “Papa went on a hunting trip a bit ago and brought some extra leather. You might be a bit warmer.”

Raz nodded. “I’d like that.”

The offer was kind, but Raz knew no coat would come. Tessir Feldspar usually sold whatever meats, furs, or leathers he got from his trips, hoping to earn coin for games of chance than make what limited use he could of whatever he caught. There wouldn’t be anything left. Still, Raz appreciated the offer all the same.

They returned their gaze back to the miners, the last of whom disappeared into the mines. The whirring and clanking of the lift echoed from the blackness as they descended deeper into the earth, carrying on for several seconds before ending altogether. Silence fell on the mountains save for their own breathing and the sound of Terasas’ feet kicking the rock.

“That in’t gonna be us, right?” Raz said finally.

Terasas cocked his head to the right. “You mean miners?”

“No, I in’t talking about them.”

“Papa says they get lots of coins for going down there.”

“My uncle Marah was a miner. He died in a tunnel collapse when Papa was a kid. Papa says it in’t worth it.” His father had told him the story several times, usually while consuming his liquor. Raz shook his head. “But that in’t important.”

Terasas shrugged. “What then?”

“I mean walking in a line every morning t’ some place that makes us sad all the time,” Raz said. “Both Mama and Papa hate their jobs. I don’t want t’ be sad my whole life. I don’t want to be hungry all the time, or stuck here forever.” He reclined back against the rock, staring up at the silver sky above them. “I mean, there has t’ be more out there than just this.”

Terasas leaned back as well, flopping his arms behind his head. “Sure, I guess? But where would you go? Most grown-ups can’t even afford t’ leave.”

Raz let the question hang in the air. In truth, he had no idea where he would go if he left Coalfell. His world ended at the mountain ranges: the furthest away from town he had ever been in his life was with Tessir and Terasas on hunting trips. Bellbridge nearby might be a good place to start, but it was barely any larger than Coalfell. There had to be more out there…

There had to be.

Droplets of rain splashed on his face. Raz recoiled, pushing himself upright while rubbing at his nose with his palm. The rainfall began picking up pace, freezing cold beads of water now pouring from the sky. A storm would hit soon. The rain was merely a prelude to the inevitable winter tempest.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Raz said.

A clock chimed from in town square some hours later. An accident in the mines; it was the only explanation for why the bells would ring at that time.

Once…

Twice…

Three times. Three deaths. Such was life in Coalfell.