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beepen · 3 years

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all I did was buy Hades and play it. now it’s been 3 weeks and

than and zag are idiots, here’s a thing. i love them. fuck.

hypnos is a little shit

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There was something about Death that Zagreus believed should be savored, or rather, handled with great care. He didn’t know much about the ceremonies mortals held for their dead, only that Than had mentioned rituals and burials in the few conversations they’ve had about it. Thanatos wasn’t willing to give more than that, claiming he never had time to stay so long and observe the culture in which mortals laid their dead to rest. He simply followed the calling deep within his chest that led him to whatever unfortunate soul he was to take next, and afterwards, leave.

Zagreus hoped there was more to it, though. Not Than’s work—he hoped it was as simple as he described—but the mortals and how they deal with death. Did they honor it? Did they honor him? Did they understand that death was part of life, that they went hand-in-hand; that death...that Death was beautiful….

And gentle, Zagreus quietly mused, peaking around the corner to the West Hall with a bottle of Nectar carefully cradled in his arms. He didn’t even want to jostle it; it had to be in perfect condition. Nothing short of perfect should ever be gifted to Death Incarnate. It wasn’t a rule or anything, of course, just Zagreus’ own personal belief. It should be, though. It should be a rule. If he wasn’t on such bad terms with his father, he would ask that he make it so.

“You just missed him, Zagreus.”

The familiar voice lured Zagreus’ gaze from the empty spot at the end of the hall to Achilles standing at his usual place, just outside the King’s chambers. He had a knowing look about him, subdued yet piercing in his read of Zagreus’ dejected body language.

“He left moments before you arrived,” he informed, and Zagreus huffed in frustration, straightening from his little sneak position and walking towards the old warrior, still mindful of the bottle curled in his arms.

“You mean to say he left after having seen me emerge from the river.” Zagreus meant for it to be witty, but he couldn’t help the bitterness in his tone. Nonetheless, Achilles gave him a warm smile, albeit more out of pity than anything.

“Perhaps. Although he does have a rather demanding job.”

“Of course.”

Zagreus would have thought himself a narcissist for assuming Thanatos would leave in spite of him rather than because he had a duty to fulfill, but the accusation didn’t transpire simply because Chaos was feeling a little bored. Than had been avoiding him, that much was clear. If it weren’t for his obvious absences over longer-than-usual amounts of time, then it was the way in which he disappeared before Zagreus could get a single word in. Zagreus had known Than long enough to realize when the god was hiding away. And right now, Than was hiding from him.

Sighing, Zagreus loosened his hold on the bottle of Nectar and held it up to Achilles, keeping his gaze on the extravagant marbled floor. If Than was hiding from him, then it was probable he wouldn’t take too kindly to an unwanted gift. And Zagreus didn’t want to pressure him….

“For you,” Zagreus forced out, lifting the bottle higher for Achilles to take. “A token of my appreciation for everything you’ve done for me...you’re more of a father than my own—”

“Zagreus.” The interruption prompted Zag to shift his gaze from the floor to meet Achilles’ fixed stare. “I am honored, truly, but I’ve yet to find the time to drink the one you have already given me. Surely this one belongs to someone else?” He raised an eyebrow, as if trying to hint at something, trying to help Zagreus understand without outright saying it. The twinkle in his eyes was all-knowing.

“Yes, it was for....” Zagreus stared briefly at the little balcony, where Thanatos would be, if only he were there. He wanted more than anything to somehow find him and ravish him with gifts. Though, that would be too overwhelming for the gentle, moody god—and far too forward. Not to mention impossible, given how Zagreus is practically chained to the Underworld at the moment. There weren’t many places he could travel to in search for him.

Sighing, he shook his head and forced the strange desires to untangle their greedy threads from his heart. He nearly shoved the bottle of Nectar at Achilles.

“First come, first serve,” he joked, waiting for the old warrior to accept the bottle. Achilles didn’t bother even looking at the gift, instead reaching past it to comfort Zag’s shoulder.

“Thanatos will come back—this is his home, afterall.”

“Well, yes. But he won’t come back to me.” Zagreus immediately regretted the words the moment they slipped out, feeling unbearably selfish and exposed to his true feelings that he had, up until now, successfully avoided.. “I mean—that’s not how I meant to say it. It’s just...he’ll be back for you, for Nyx, Meg, and Hypnos, even. But not me. I’m not part of the reason he returns home.”

Not that Zagreus had any right to be. He was trying to leave the place Thanatos called home, for gods’ sake. And without telling him. Than had made it known he was upset about it based on their latest, and perhaps last, confrontation, but Zagreus knew Thanatos hardly revealed even a glimpse of what he truly felt. He couldn’t imagine how hurt Than really was….

Achilles’ grip on his shoulder tightened just barely, laughter twinkling in his eyes. “Prince, you are far too dramatic.” He didn’t elaborate further, almost as if the words were for his own amusement rather than to appease Zagreus’ worries. He backed off, hand slipping from Zagreus’ shoulder, and finally acknowledged the bottle still held up for his taking. “Keep that, and wait for him.”

Zagreus didn’t know what was so funny; the possible end of his friendship with Than was no laughing matter. And he didn’t want to give this bottle to Than anymore, anyway. It was all shaken up.

“Really sir,” Zagreus stepped forward, ready to shove the bottle in Achilles’ embrace if he had to. “It’s yours. I bestow it upon you.”

“I’m fine, dear Prince. In fact, I’m a little offended you would offer me a gift meant for someone else.”

Zagreus balked, interpreting Achilles’ slanted smile to be one of mockery. “Well I’m offended you won’t accept my gift! A gift I quite literally died for, might I add. Besides, I’m only going to offer you more in the future; there’s an abundance of them in Tartarus. Far too many for me to keep but enough for everyone to have multiple. I’m quite certain I will have another by the time Than shows his pretty face. Now, please sir, I demand you take this!”

He couldn’t possibly outstretch his hand farther, but he certainly tried his damned hardest, only for Achilles to cross his arms and shake his head. That slight smirk still adorned his face.

“Forgive me, Prince, but I do not accept your gift.”

Zagreus nearly growled. “Take it! I’ll stand here forever if you don’t!”

“You know as well as I that every soul, shade, and god alike are aware of your inability to stand in one place.”

“I—! I can stand in one place! I’ll do it now!”

It was only a few moments later that Zagreus was seen stomping away from the Great Achilles in humiliated anger, for the old warrior was correct: the Prince could not, for the life of him, stand still.

“Oh, shut up,” Zagreus grumbled, red hot in the face and fire at his heels (literally).

*****

Achilles was not his father, so he would not directly defy him as he did Hades, but he’d be damned if he walked away with a hurt pride and did nothing to make himself feel like a winner. So it was no surprise when he gave the wretched bottle of Nectar to Hypnos, practically announcing it to the entire House as if he were awarding a hero. Hypnos was glad to accept it, feeding off of the Prince’s drama and loudly proclaiming his thanks with a big smile until they were shouting back and forth, like kids playing pretend. That is, until Nyx urged them to be quiet, warning them that Lord Hades would be back any moment and that he did not tolerate the smuggling of Nectar.

And if Nyx heard them, then Achilles most certainly did too, and Zagreus walked back to his chambers with an inflated ego and his pride back in order, ready to tear through his father’s domain once again with the viscous intent to cause problems.

And caused problems, he did. The more chambers Zagreus tore apart, the more he began to think Achilles had purposely infuriated him. He was the one who trained Zag, afterall. He knew how to stir up trouble even better than the Prince himself, and it was a surprise to no one that the old warrior irritated Zagreus enough that the wretches of the Underworld cowered before his wrath.

Zagreus didn’t even know what he was so mad at. He was just riled up, stuck in his thoughts, so distracted he paid no mind to the aches and strains of his body from unconsciously pushing himself. He thought of nothing; just let the time pass and the monsters be slain, allowing his irritation to consume him entirely. It was almost impossible to recall the conversation he had with Meg, if any. The Fury may have said something upon his arrival, but Zagreus was in no position to respond, so they just fought.

Zagreus only acknowledged her defeat after the Lernagon Hydra crumbled to dust. By then he had ripped Asphodel a new one, with little to no recollection of how or when he got to this point.

“Must be a new record,” he mumbled to himself, the first he’d spoken since he jumped out of his window. He never made it this far….

His awareness came back to him, dragging himself down from the clouds he had been lost in. He took a second to catch his breath as he was made aware of how much his body hurt. Drinking from the fountain dulled it somewhat, but, gods, he must have been one hit away from collapsing. He wanted to collapse now, let the Styx consume him and heal him. And perhaps, now that his little fit was over and he had ransacked enough chambers to appease his emotions, apologize to Achilles for how rude he was back at the House. But up next was Elysium, and he had never been there; never was allowed to step foot in there. He wasn’t going to quit without going as far as his body physically allowed.

He didn’t expect Elysium to nearly blind him with its lush plants and sparkling sky, just as he hadn’t expected Asphodel to be so hot. It was far cooler up here, thank the gods, but he had to stay in the first chamber a few moments longer so his eyes could adjust to the brightness. He broke some precious pots too, of course. All of them, actually, and with a conniving grin on his face as he recalled his father yelling at him to stop being an ignoble brat.

Never.

Laughing almost maniacally, Zagreus dashed into the next chamber with newfound vigor, completely aware this time and not shrouded with overwhelming adrenaline. Every hit he suffered hurt more, but his focus allowed him to dodge more often and think properly, and he completed the chamber with only a few more scratches added to the ongoing list of wounds.

He was feeling good, confident. Anxious still, because he had never survived this far and had no idea what awaited him behind the next door, but what was the worst that could happen? Death? Ha.

And as he practically skipped into the next room, the toll of a bell stopped him in his tracks, draining all the warmth from his body as the already green chamber flashed an even greater, colder shade of green. Zagreus, although yielding under the sudden chill, still found himself wrapped in a blanket of familiarity, of something so beautiful he couldn’t find the words to describe it. That alone was enough to keep him from freezing to the bone.

“Thanatos…?” He whispered. He hoped. He dreaded. His heartbeat picked up, and his soul tried to rip itself from his body, drawn to the figure zapping into existence right in front of him. For a split second, wings encased Death’s godly form, dissolving as soon it appeared. A detail that was hardly noticeable, but Zagreus noticed it everytime and wished it lasted longer. He yearned to see those wings again.

“You’re easy to track down,” Than said, in a voice that was soft yet piercing, the pronunciation of every word perfect and clear. It caught Zagreus’ immediate attention, keeping his feet planted where they were. He smiled; he couldn’t help it.

“Aw, you were looking for me?”

And there it was: the slight downward twitch of his lips, the furrow of his brows, and of course, the subtle scrunch of his nose. Teasing Than was the best.

“No,” was Than’s indignant answer, and Zagreus of course didn’t believe him. “It was simply an observation of the debris you’ve left behind. I just happened to be in the area.”

“And you also just so happened to follow the trail, knowing it would lead to me?”

“No—! Ugh.” Flustered, lovingly so, Thanatos wielded his scythe. “Fight or die, Zagreus. Or, perhaps, do nothing, while I do all the work. Like how it's always been.”

Zagreus smirked. Well, he definitely wouldn’t mind sitting back and watching Death annihilate Elysium’s best warriors. He knew the god would make swift work of them. But to miss the opportunity to fight alongside the God of Death? Why, how could he decline such an offer?

Before the first shade could even materialize, Zag was on them, hacking and slashing like his body didn’t scream for him to follow Than’s advice. It was exhilarating, exciting. They worked as a team rather than competitors, Zagreus even pushing enemies into Thanatos’ dark circle of death. Than took notice, stopping to give Zagreus a confused look, before disintegrating three Brightswords at once.

Beautiful. Beautiful.

A few more Brightswords materialized, including a Greatshield and some Chariots, but they met their demise quickly before they could so much as breathe. Not that they needed to breathe; they were dead.

And now you’re deader, Zagreus mused, finishing off the last one while Than, ironically, floated and watched him do the work, perhaps giving him a pity kill. Zagreus didn’t keep track of their last competition and he wasn’t about to now; he’d let Thanatos worry about that. Though, he could estimate that he himself killed about five, while Thanatos...more than that, probably?

With the last warrior slayed, Elysium was quiet and peaceful once more, as Zagreus imagined it would be if he was sentenced to live his eternal life here. He took this opportunity to gather and absorb the dark energy a few enemies dropped, thinking about Nyx’s gift when he felt eyes watching him.

Goosebumps riddling his skin, he turned towards Thanatos, who continued staring a moment longer before offering his hand. Zagreus, confused, tilted his head and waited for an explanation. Upon receiving nothing except for Than’s unreadable expression, he took the invitation and shuffled closer.

“Your reward,” Thanatos mumbled, yet it was clear as day. Energy popped in his upturned palm, the remnants clinging to Zagreus’ skin and melting into the tissue, the bones. Zagreus watched a few scratches heal themselves. His body still ached, but his vitality grew stronger, like he could withstand more.

“Centaur heart,” Zagreus muttered, and he tilted his head back, traveling up Than’s floating form before stopping at a pair of two golden orbs. “Why?”

“It was a tie.”

“Oh.”

Zagreus was suspicious, but he didn’t speak on it. If Thanatos wanted him to stay home, like everyone else apparently, then he wouldn’t have given him something to keep his body going unless it was well-earned. Death was honorable like that.

“Ah,” Than cleared his throat, and standing this close Zagreus could see the beginnings of discoloration dusted across his cheeks. “My brother—Hypnos, that is—gave me a bottle of Nectar a little bit ago.”

Zagreus didn’t react to the random statement at first. He wondered why Thanatos was telling him, but also, how Hypnos could have gotten another bottle himself. The God of Sleep didn’t travel nearly as much as his older twin, or even Zagreus for that matter. Though, Zag supposed maybe he didn’t really know where Hypnos went when he wasn’t dozing off by the entrance to the River Styx. He always assumed the god was off sleeping somewhere more comfortably. Or maybe—

Wait. Zagreus frowned. He sensed something was amiss; something wasn’t right. The bottle, the one he gave Hypnos just before his most recent escape...he wouldn’t...couldn’t have…?

His eyes widened. No. Nonono—

“He said it was from you, Zagreus. That you asked he give it to me...as a gift.”

For the second time that day—or night, whatever—Zagreus found himself sputtering with disbelief. Irritation, embarrassment, anger, betrayal, amongst other feelings he refused to acknowledge—he couldn’t sort out which ones he felt the most.

“That—” he tried, but the words were locked in his throat, clogged together so he could hardly talk, hardly breathe. How dare Hypnos give away a gift Zagreus had given him. And how dare he thus give that same gift to Thanatos, lying in his name on top of it all!

“Zag?”

The nickname made Zagreus flinch and want to wilt away, perhaps turn into a butterfly and hide in Than’s chiton forever. At least until Than eventually ran into Hypnos, where Zagreus would then use the element of surprise to strangle the sleepy god. But to hear Than call him by his childhood nickname rather than cruelly addressing him as ‘Zagreus’ enveloped the Prince with so much nostalgia and belonging it ached. What was the point of rewarding Zagreus a centaur heart if he was only going to wound him like this moments after?!

“I...Than.” The exchange of nicknames felt natural, but Zagreus was ashamed. It was enough to zap him out of his momentary panic, and he briefly locked eyes with Death before taking in not only the concerned tilt of his brow, but also the specks of flustered gold alighting his face. Than was...flattered, to say the least. Zagreus wasn’t so oblivious he couldn’t figure out that much. But it wasn’t because of his doing; not really. He could go along with it, pretend that it was, but. That wasn’t right. Death should be honored. This was not honorable.

Upon the sigh Zagreus released from his emotionally-constricted lungs were everything he had managed to feel in less than a second after the reveal of Hypnos’ betrayal. Whatever the reason for it, Zagreus wouldn’t accept the benefits of it, if any. He wouldn’t accept the outcome if it wasn’t truthful.

“Thanatos,” he began, the name not as sweet on his tongue, “That gift...was for Hypnos, not you. I never asked him to hand it off to you.”

The look on Than’s face was hard to read at first—perhaps a mixture of confusion and horror—but Zagreus hated it. Desperately did he wish to replace it with the bashfulness from before. That feeling he had felt earlier, to bask Thanatos in gifts, was back full force.

“You mean to say…” Than’s voice trailed off before his expression hardened. “This is a prank, then.”

“No! Of course not. Not by me, at least.” When Than didn’t look convinced, Zagreus stepped closer, reaching for his dark Chiton but pulling back when he noticed Than’s shoulders stiffen. “I swear, Thanatos, on my father’s name. I gave him the bottle and that was it. Maybe...maybe there was a miscommunication? Or perhaps he overheard—”

He stopped himself there, looking past Thanatos at nothing in particular. Maybe Hypnos overheard his back and forth with Achilles? He was right around the corner, afterall. And if Nyx could hear Hypnos and Zagreus, then Hypnos would have no problem eavesdropping on the happenings of the West Hall. If that’s the case, maybe Hypnos believed he was doing a favor by giving the bottle to its original intent?

“Overheard what, Zagreus?”

With another sigh, Zagreus gave up. “Okay. The Nectar was for you.” Before Thanatos could process the words, Zagreus rushed the next sentences out, fearing the god would think it was all a joke again. “Originally! It was intended for you, at first, but you weren’t at the House. You—you’re rarely at the House, and it’s clear you’ve been avoiding me as of late, so. And the bottle, it was shaken up. I couldn’t just give something like that to you! I wasn’t sure you would even accept a gift from me anyway so I tried to give it to Achilles but he wouldn’t accept it because he said it wasn’t for him even though I was obviously giving it to him and we may have argued about it loud enough for Hypnos to hear but he didn’t say anything about it when—”

Zagreus, whose words were starting to blend together as he quickly rambled his explanation of things, abruptly stopped when something small and hard was thrusted against his chest. He was nearly pushed back from the force of it, and he scrambled to hold onto the object when Thanatos pulled his hand back. Confused, Zagreus stared down at his hands.

“Do you ever stop talking?”

Zagreus had to force himself to look away from what appeared to be a butterfly, mesmerized by the intricate designs he could briefly make out before giving Thanatos his attention once more. He wasn’t looking at him, rather, his head was turned to the side, arms crossed with his scythe cradled between the bulge of his biceps. Dust of gold once again sparkled the soft glow of his cheeks.

“You shouldn’t worry about giving me anything, Zagreus. I’ve no interest in the little souvenirs you find in your futile attempts to escape this place.” Slightly, he cocked his head, fixing his golden stare on the small artefact held gently in Zagreus’ grasp. “But if you insist...you’ll have no choice but to hold onto that.”

A flash of green, a schlink, and Zagreus was alone in Elysium.

Than’s swift exits always left a hole in his chest, but this time he didn’t bother dwelling on it, the weight of the butterfly in his hands keeping his heart full and healthy and...happy. His fingers smoothed over the coolness of it, its subtle ridges and edges a fine testament to the workmanship it must have taken to create something so beautiful. And the colors—shades of purples and grays with a green tint on the outer rims of the design, giving the butterfly a glowing effect—reminded Zagreus so much of Thanatos, and the beauty of Death.

The Prince’s tendency to ramble, although grating to the ears of most in the House of Hades, seems to have avoided what would have been a terrible rift between the likes of Life and Death, courtesy of a telltale lie; but the Prince’s desire to strangle the God of Sleep still stands as is.

Blood trickled to the tips of Zagreus’ ears. “What are you talking—? Ugh, just shut up!”

#thanzag #hades supergiant #zagreus #thanatos #hades

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florenceandthemachine · 3 years

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hear your heartbeat

happy birthday to the incomparable @elisela!!! just for you, please enjoy a good fake-dating au with plenty of idiotic and family members abound.

12.5k - on Ao3

—————

“I’m telling you, Scotty. New York has been good to me. Maybe we should just renounce California and stay here for the summer.”

“Don’t joke about that, dude.”

Stiles laughed as he shouldered his phone, taking in the city air as he strolled along the streets of Manhattan.

Needless to say, Manhattan was far from home—while the city certainly was his vibe, Stiles was no stranger to tamping down the champagne tastes that clashed with his tapwater budget. The little shitbox apartment he got through NYU’s housing program was almost a thirty minute train ride from school, but Stiles figured that when he was more or less trapped on campus for nearly fifty hours a week, he could justify spending his breaks wandering the streets of Manhattan and really taking in the city.

On today’s agenda, Stiles was looking forward to wandering around a farmers market that literally stretched on for city blocks. There were fruits and vegetables literally as far as the eye could see, spices and roots and mysterious tubers of all shapes and size, but Stiles didn’t give a flying fuck about the food—his real interest were the vendors and the shoppers.

He had learned early on that open air markets like this were perfect meeting grounds for mythical beasts of all shapes and sizes, so, what better palace for him to do some… field work, so to speak?

There were nymphs who had full bouquets of beautiful flowers that lived suspiciously long in their vases as long as you complimented the blooms on a regular basis. Dryads who sold the most delicious fruit he had ever tasted, even if they charged six bucks for a pear.

Stiles had learned early on to avoid the fae—basically, any stand that sold crystal or metalcraft. His first time at the market, he had somehow wound up spending nearly four hundred dollars on quartz; the moment the money had left his hand, the stall had all but vanished in front of him.

“The people are good here. They’re fast. Blunt. Sarcastic. My kind of people.”

“Uh huh.”

Scott liked to call their whole situation lucky.

When Stiles applied to NYU’s doctorate program, he expected rounds and rounds of interviews, lists of deadlines he needed to memorize, and some less-than-subtle digs at his proposed field of study (which was fair, honestly—he knew that criminology and mythology rarely mixed).

What he didn’t expect was Scott, though, the bro of all bros. When Stiles told him he was applying to NYU, Scott had cheered him on, helped him prepare, and then immediately applied to different veterinary positions through the state.

(Scott was golden, obviously—he had years of training, letters of recommendation from everyone he had ever met, and him being a werewolf basically made him the animal whisperer.)

At the end of the day, Stiles got to pursue his passion thanks to a hodgepodge of grants at NYU, and Scott was awarded a fellowship in veterinary medicine through the Bronx Zoo. What kind of weird twist of luck would let the best friends wind up together across the country like that?

So, yeah, Scott called it luck.

Stiles called it karmic retribution for their supremely fucked-up years at Beacon Hills High, but even he could admit that ‘luck’ sounded nicer... and if Stiles was being honest, ‘luck’ was definitely the best way to classify his meeting Derek Hale.

Derek Hale was smart, he was sarcastic, and he could go toe-to-toe with Stiles over completely obscure things for literal hours. He was a first-year professor at NYU, who had the tiny office right next to the broom closet Stiles had managed to shove PHD desk into, and he was probably the only other person in the program that took mythology seriously (meaning he was the only person who didn’t make Stiles want to put his head through the wall).

He was also hot as fuck, but that was beside the point. Stiles had a little bit of a massive crush, but that was also beside the point.

They had built up a fast friendship based on a series of arguments about the Necronomicon, of all things, and Stiles loved the thought of being friends with someone who didn’t know him as the weird kid in high school who knew way too much about ritual sacrifice and circumcision.

He had evened out a lot through undergrad. He was still awkward, sure, but he was awkward with a refillable prescription for Adderall and some sort of brain-to-mouth filter.

(Honestly, the fact that Stiles had managed to avoid making a single joke about the werewolf who was stuck teaching Mythology 101 really did speak volumes to his newfound maturity.)

Speaking of Derek, though…

“Stiles! Hey, Stiles!”

Stiles almost jumped a foot in the air as he heard his name called, doing a spectacular near-drop-mid-air-catch of his phone as he regained his footing, turning on the spot to see a taller woman with jet black hair waving him over.

She was… okay, she was gorgeous—dark hair, smooth skin, someone who looked like she just stepped out of one of the windows on Fifth Avenue—but Stiles was decently distracted, because standing beside her was Derek Hale, the object of his extremely private affection for the past few months. Who, for whatever reason, was standing there looking like he wanted the sidewalk to open up and swallow him whole.

“Scotty, I’ll see you tonight, yeah? I gotta go.”

Stiles pocketed his phone as he cautiously made his way over to the pair—trio, he corrected, because there was another woman with them, looking incredibly more invested in the conversation now that another party was joining them.

He hiked his canvas a bit higher up as he smiled, trying to remember where he had seen the two before… students, maybe, but if that were the case, they would know Derek, not Stiles. They weren’t faculty members, he was sure of that. Donors to the program, maybe?

Well, if they were donors, Stiles sincerely hoped that Derek would have tried harder to wear literally any expression other than his current ‘bitter and miserable’.

And if they were donors, why were they so fucking happy to see him?

“I’m Laura. This is Cora.”

The taller of the two women extended her hand confidently as Stiles got within arms reach, and he instinctively reached out to take it, Cora following suit. “Derek has told us all about you. I have to say, I figured there was at least a ten percent chance you were made up, but… here you are!”

“Here I am!” Stiles was officially lost, but he kept his smile up, cheeks pinking up a little bit as he turned back to Derek. “You’ve been talking about me?” he asked, his voice on the line between flattered and teasing, nudging Derek playfully as he tilted his head.

“Stiles, I—“

“Of course he has! Derek’s a private guy, sure, but you can’t be surprised he told us about his new—“

“Laura—”

“Lord, Derek, calm down. You already had your big bisexual awakening, I’m allowed to be excited to meet your first boyfriend.” Laura shot back, her glare rivaling Derek’s absolute best ‘listen to teacher’ look, and Stiles could see the muscle in his jaw start to twitch. He probably would have done something, but… he was basically short circuiting, brain trying to keep up with whatever the fuck Laura had said, because Derek now had his arm around Stiles’ waist.

Derek had a big bisexual awakening?

And a boyfriend, apparently?

How had Stiles missed that??

“Stiles, these are my sisters, Laura and Cora Hale.”

Okay, great, they were Derek’s sisters. Stiles didn’t even know that Derek had sisters, which was a little sad if he thought about it.

Thankfully, he didn’t have long to think about it, because Derek—

“This is Stiles, my… my boyfriend. Now stop bombarding him. Give him half a fucking second before you go a thousand miles an hour.”

Oh—oh God. Stiles was the boyfriend.

He had seriously missed something, then—he didn’t think he had confessed his feelings for Derek anytime recently, or he probably would have died from embarrassment. Scott was really good at hiding his phone when he was drinking, which ruled that entire scenario out. Stiles could be forgetful at times, sure, but he thought he would remember if he had managed to score himself a boyfriend.

He looked up at Derek, trying to ignore the sudden burn of contact where their bodies were pressed together, but his brain was extremely focused the moment that he caught the look on Derek’s face, there and gone in a flash. He felt the hand squeeze at his waist, and the message was clear enough.

Please.

Ah, well. Stiles was always good at bullshitting, and this was no exception.

“No, no, Der, it’s fine! It’s good to meet you both, sorry, I wasn’t even expecting to see Derek until… uh, later, let alone meet anyone new,” Stiles said, his voice 100% betraying his nerves as it picked up an octave.

Laura’s voice was much more evenly toned, even if it was a little teasing. “Oh? You two have big plans tonight? We aren’t interrupting anything, are we?” she said with a grin, giving the distinct impression that even if they were interrupting, she and her sister wouldn’t be leaving until they were good and ready. Stiles felt his mind kick into overdrive, waving the question aside.

“Oh, nothing like that. We were going to meet up with my friend Scott for dinner, introducing the boyfriend to the best friend, you know how it is,” he continued, hoping his little chuckle wasn’t too terribly fake as he reached up to pat the lapels of Derek’s jacket, letting his fingers linger a little too long on Derek’s chest as he nodded.

He hoped that she knew how it was. Hell, Stiles didn’t even know how it was. He hadn’t exactly been rolling in romance since moving across the country.

“Well, if you say so,” Laura mused, raising a perfect brow, head tilted to the side. “You look like you’re about to pass out, Stiles. You alright?”

And, okay, Stiles knew enough to know what that meant. It meant that her super-sonic ears could hear his heart trying to break through his ribs with a staccato beat, typically a tell-tale sign that someone was lying, but… maybe he could work that to his advantage. He swallowed, voice a little tight as he laughed, waving the concern away.

“Sorry, I just wasn't… planning on meeting the family today,” Stiles said, probably the most truthful thing he had ever said. “Usually I’d try to prepare a little more, you know, make sure I’m wearing something nice and avoid putting my entire foot in my mouth. Maybe just a toe or two,” he said, relaxing minutely as Cora snorted from her position near Laura’s elbow.

Okay, so self depreciation was a good way to avoid suspicion with all the Hales. Got it.

“Well, if you both have plans, I’ll make this quick,” Laura said, her voice deceptively charming as she sidled up next to Stiles, though he certainly wasn’t going to complain about the way Derek’s hand tightened around his waist. “The semester is up soon, what are your plans this summer? Never mind, move them back. We’re having a family reunion the week after finals, and everyone is dying to meet baby brother Derek’s new boo after all the stories he’s told.”

…stories?

He looked up to Derek again, who was now blushing up to the tips of his ears, which—okay, cute—but which told him absolutely nothing and offered him exactly zero defense.

“Actually, I already have a flight booked as soon as my spring contract is up. Heading back to Beacon Hills for a few days, and—“

“Wait, did Derek already invite you?” Laura asked, her expression pleasantly surprised, and Stiles was speechless for a half second before Derek stepped in.

“No, I didn’t invite him because I’m not even going, Laura. Besides, he has his own plans with his own family,” he said, and Stiles blinked as he tried to keep up. “And what do you mean, they’re excited to meet him? I was very clear that the further I can keep him away from you and Mom, the better.”

Laura only rose a brow as she turned back to Cora, who took a beat before looking up from her phone, her expression halfway guilty as she clutched the device. “I uh—I may have just sent a picture of you two to the family group chat.”

Stiles choked on a laugh as Derek gasped—actually gasped—and pulled his phone from his pocket, making the mistake of releasing Stiles’ shoulder to unlock the device, looking absolutely scandalized as he glared at Cora.

It wasn’t long before Stiles had a similar look on his face, though, as Laura took advantage of his free arm, linking her own with his as she started to walk. “Alright, Stiles, here’s the deal.”

“Cora, you little—hey! Laura, get back here with my boyfriend!”

“Calm down little brother, the adults are talking.”

“He’s younger than I am!”

“So, Stiles, like I was saying,” Laura started, oblivious or ignorant to the way Stiles' mind had absolutely reeled when Derek had called him his boyfriend for the second time. “Derek hasn’t been home for more than a day visit since he moved out to this dump, and no one has raised a stink about it in years. This year, though, is… important,” she started, and Stiles nodded idly as he mentally ran through the calendar in his head.

The semester was over in just over a week, with finals crammed into three days after that, and then—oh, the full moon.

No, Stiles corrected himself, the blue moon. The first blue moon in May in probably… thirty years, if he had to guess. He nodded up to Laura as that clicked into place, a flicker of curiosity crossing over her face as she continued talking.

“We won’t take up that much of your time—it’s only like two events, I promise, and I also promise Derek will personally take care of whatever flight changes you have to make so you can still get some time with your family. After all, it’s not your fault my bonehead brother tried to exclude you until now.”

“I’m not a bonehead!” Derek said, his tone of voice just exasperated enough that Stiles sighed, carefully extracting himself from Laura’s grasp as they slowed to a stop near the curb of Fifth Avenue, the noise from the farmers market blending in with the sound of traffic as he turned back to Derek.

“Alright, hang on, hold up,” Stiles started, his tone firm enough to stop the three wolves in their tracks, Derek and Laura wearing matching expressions of surprise as they stopped in their tracks—even Cora was peeking over her phone, clearly interested, and Stiles couldn’t blame them. It had probably been a long time since either of them had been stopped by a human.

“Laura, Derek is not a bonehead. He’s smart, and he’s sweet, and he’s very kind, and it’s okay that he’s a little more private. Yeah, he’s also a stubborn asshole, but… well, that’s one of the reasons I like him so much,” Stiles said, the first genuine smile in the entire conversation gracing his face as he looked at Derek again. “But you know your brother. Did you really think that catching him off guard across the country in person was going to be the best way to convince him to visit?”

He was fine taking their silence as an answer, honestly.

“Now, Derek, that being said, I… if you are comfortable with it, I can rearrange my plans and come down with you. If you’re not comfortable with that, that’s okay too. Meeting the family—at least, the rest of the family—is a very big step,” he continued, his words very pointed.

(Yes, Derek, meeting the family would be a very big step for someone you weren’t even dating, please pick up on the subliminal messaging here.)

“But even if you’re not comfortable with me being there, I think you should still go down. I’ll get to spend plenty of time with my dad, you shouldn’t have to be all alone up here while I’m gone.”

Moving to smooth over the lapels on Derek’s jacket again, Stiles only barely tampered down a noise of surprise as Derek intercepted his hands, pleasantly shocked by how easily Derek’s warm, smooth fingers slipped between his own lanky digits.

Stiles felt his cheeks pinks up as he cleared his throat, doing his best to act normal, because he was… well, he wasn’t lying. He had absolutely thought about Derek being alone here in New York while Stiles was gone, but that was more in the sense that Stiles would miss him.

He just didn’t know that Derek might be missing some family, too.

Besides, he may not have known that much about the intricacies of a normal, family pack, but Stiles knew enough to know that a big event like this would probably be good for Derek, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

Even if Derek was going to reject his offer and go down alone.

…because Derek was going to reject him.

Derek was going to reject him, right?

Stiles had been fairly sure of that when he offered, but judging by the way Derek couldn’t meet his eyes after something as simple as holding hands, Stiles might have just fucked himself over. Derek opened and closed his mouth twice before he finally let out a huff of air and looked up, doing a remarkably good impression of a guilty animal as he looked at Stiles.

“…you’re sure you don’t mind?”

Fuck.

“Derek, I wouldn’t have offered if I minded,” Stiles said, and that much was at least true—but before he could say anything else, Laura was squealing in his ear, wrapping both of them up in a hug so tight Stiles almost had to remind her that he was human, but he was able to breathe again as the car next to the curb chirped.

“Thank God, Stiles, thank you for getting through to him! Oh, Nana is gonna flip out when she hears who’s coming—Derek, you know you’ve always been her favorite—Stiles, do you have any dietary restrictions? Derek, send me his number, and—no, Cora, you are not driving us back to the airport, move your ass—“

Stiles looked up to Derek, his expression somewhere between bemused and fearful as Laura rambled on, but… well, the apologetic look that Derek had on his face wasn’t much reassurance.

“—and Stiles, you’re going to love Beacon Hills. Bye boys! See you in two weeks!”

Stiles was left, partially shellshocked as Derek’s hand slipped from his own, the need for the facade no longer essential as the shiny silver rental car pulled into traffic.

“… Derek, since when the fuck are you from Beacon Hills?”

—————

“Scotty, stop laughing, this isn’t funny.”

“Dude, are you kidding me? This is hilarious.”

Stiles groaned as he shoved another slice of pizza into his mouth, ignoring the burning sensation that spread across his tongue as he tried to pack as much melted cheese as he could into one bite.

Scott’s apartment had been their go-to for the entire time he and Stiles had been in the city—not because it was huge and glamorous, not by any means, but Scott’s shoebox had a door between the bathroom and the living room, and therefore it was the best place for bro-time by default.

Stiles had loudly complained about the entire situation when he and Derek showed up on Scott’s stoop, firmly planting himself in his favorite of Scott’s chairs—the ‘old man’ recliner next to Scott’s little television, the game on screen forgotten as he recalled their harrowed tale.

“Stiles, if you weren’t comfortable with it, why even… okay, no, don’t you dare answer me until you swallow,” Derek snapped, and Stiles rolled his eyes as he swallowed a few times, sticking his tongue out at Derek once his mouth was empty.

“Good. Thank you for pretending to be an adult. Now, why did you even offer if it wasn’t something you were comfortable with.”

Because it was supposed to just be a gesture, Derek. Because I didn’t realize you would take it as a serious offer, Derek. Because you were supposed to say no, Derek.

… because I didn’t want you to be alone, Derek.

Honestly, as surprised as Stiles was that Derek took him up on his poorly-timed moment of goodness, he was even more surprised that after Laura drove off, when he numbly asked if Derek wanted to come over to Scott’s for some pizza, Derek actually said yes.

Derek Hale was being social. Alert the media.

(Well… maybe ‘social’ was stretching it a bit—Stiles didn’t know if it was a territory thing or what, but Derek had turned hilariously, awkwardly stiff the moment he stepped inside Scott’s apartment.)

“I offered because I’m nice, dick, but don’t even think that you can turn this on me. Derek, they knew my name. They knew what I looked like. And yeah, I mean, I’m a complete catch and all—oh fuck off, Scotty—but what in the actual, literal fuck?”

Stiles didn’t think it was possible, but somehow Derek got even more tense, shoulders tightening up toward his ears as he looked down. It took a moment before he answered, but Stiles knew by then that Derek usually had to… wind himself up to talk about some things.

“My mother lives on the opposite end of the country, and even then, she still managed to set up twenty four blind dates for me last year. Twenty four, Stiles. That’s basically one every other week. Do you have any idea how much small talk that is? And how much I hate small talk?”

Yes, Stiles thought, to both of those questions. He would never admit this out loud, of course, but thinking about one of the most intensely private people that he knew stuck at some shitty little coffee shop trying to chat with some random female on behalf of his mother was hilarious to a degree he couldn’t fathom.

It definitely wasn’t a redirection of his own… personal feelings that may or may not be directed at Derek. Not at all. Nope.

“So, around the time the spring semester started, when my mother let slide that she had passed along my number to yet another perfectly eligible barista, or something, I panicked and told her I had a boyfriend. And then she asked for a photo, and the most recent one on my phone was that selfie you sent miming your own death in the stacks, so…”

“Oh fuck, Derek,” Stiles started, downing the last of his beer. “Your big bisexual awakening wasn’t just you trying to get out of your mom setting you up on dates, right?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, ass,” Derek said, rolling his eyes as he shook his head. “The two events were completely separate.”

Stiles laughed at the thought, but even then, his mind was reeling. If this wasn’t a recent discovery, how in the fuck did Stiles miss that for so long?

“Well, you’re lucky Scotty and I had a flight booked anyway. I won’t let you face them alone, not when you have a picture perfect boyfriend to show off now—what role should I take on? Doting, love struck fool? Rebel without a care? Some sad forlorn loser who… okay, no, that one is too close to home.”

Scott stood up and laughed as Derek glared at Stiles again, but it didn’t take a genius to see the tiny smile on his face, or the way his shoulders eased as he leaned back into the couch.

“Alright, this is getting too intense a conversation while the game is on. Want another beer, Stiles? You, Derek?”

Stiles made a vaguely affirming noise as he wove his hand in Scott’s direction, eyes drawn back to Derek yet again as the other wolf politely declined, his own attention affixed to the television as the game picked back up.

Derek was… not a particularly expressive person, Stiles knew, and part of that was because Derek had what Stiles affectionately called ‘resting grumpy face’; at least, he did privately, because the one time he said it out loud Derek had thrown the Encyclopaedia of Demomorgons at his head.

So, to the outsider looking in, Derek might have just seemed uninterested in the game; but Stiles had been watching Derek work for the better part of a semester, and he knew perfectly well how to tell when Derek’s resting grumpy face formed an actual frown. Which it did. Because apparently, the Mets had personally offended him.

“I’m sorry, are you seriously glaring at the Mets? While they’re winning?”

Derek leveled Stiles with the most unimpressed glare he could as Scott laughed from his kitchen, walking back into the living room with two beers. “God, I hope he was. It would be nice to have someone with taste in the apartment for once.”

“Scotty!” Stiles gasped, clutching his heart as Scott handed him a beer, extending the claw on his thumb to pop the top off before he handed the bottle over. “The Mets are a treasure, okay? If God lived in New York, she’d be a Mets fan. I have suffered much for my Mets in my lifetime, and they—woah, Derek, you okay?”

Stiles’ charming cliches would have to wait, because when he looked over to Derek, his humor dropped immediately. Derek had gone white as a sheet, jaw slack as he stared at the beer in Stiles’ hand.

He stared back and forth between Scott and Derek, trying to figure what the hell had just happened; it wasn’t until he watched Scott pop the top off of his own beer, looking between the two of them, did Stiles put two and two together.

“Derek, you… you had to know that Scott was a were, right? Like, you had to. He—Scotty doesn’t do subtle.”

“Me?! Stiles, you called me a wet dog for like a month after I fell into the Hudson.”

Derek let out a sort of choked noise as he shut his mouth, coming back into himself as a bit of pink dusted his pale cheeks, hands moving in front of his face. “Of—of course I knew, but—you knew?!”

“Dude, I’m studying mythical lore and criminology. I’m the one who taught this furry fucker how to control himself. Of course I knew, I... oh my god. You didn’t know that I knew—uh, that I know.”

Matching looks of realization dawned on Scott and Stiles’ face as Stiles stood up, putting the beer down on the coffee table. He moved next to Derek as he sat down on the couch, keeping his movement slow, reaching out to pat Derek’s leg like he was a frail old lady.

“Derek, I know.”

After what felt like an age and a half, Derek melted into the couch, a huge sigh leaving his lips as all the tension in his body bled out like a string had been cut, burying his head in his hands.

“We’ve had arguments about wolves in pop culture. I’ve offered to help you out with your coursework every full moon for, like, the entire semester. Dude, you had to know that I knew, there’s no way I didn’t—Derek!” Stiles felt his giddy laughter bubble over as Derek shot him a red-eyed glare through his fingers, his scowl somehow less intimidating now that everything was out in the open.

Okay, Derek wasn’t just a wolf, he was an alpha. That was… interesting.

“God, you two really are perfect fake boyfriends. Two halves of a whole idiot. Derek, are you sure you don’t want a beer? Or maybe something stronger, if you have to deal with Stiles?” Scott said easily, laughing as Stiles immediately protested, though the way Stiles eased himself next to Derek wasn’t exactly subtle, either.

—————

Scott may have been joking, but by the time finals had come and gone, Stiles had accepted the fact that he would have to forgo booze and opt for a mainline of caffeine to keep up with Derek. How one person remained so meticulously organized, Stiles would never know—but in the amount of time it took for Stiles to wrap up his grant work for the semester, Derek had given four exams, proctored three more, cleaned out his office, and shared the updated flight itinerary with Stiles.

“Wait, wait, hang on,” Stiles had said, tripping over an empty box in his tiny office as Derek handed him his updated boarding pass. “Why do we have to change our flights? Scott and I are already booked, you can probably just join us, right?”

Derek rose a perfectly sculpted brow as he tapped the ticket again, shaking his head. “Hey, I promised you’d spend as few days as possible with my family, and I intend to keep that promise. The sooner we get in, the sooner we start that clock, the sooner you get to spend the rest your time with your dad.”

Stiles blinked as he looked down to the itinerary, eyes scanning over the earlier time—and it was non-stop too. That would be a bit killer on the legs, but Stiles could handle that, maybe he could take some time to sleep or pester Derek for...

“Uh, Derek... this ticket is for first class.”

“I know, Stiles, I booked it.”

“Dude, there’s a reason Scott and I booked an economy ticket with a layover in Bismarck. There’s no way I can pay you back for this.”

If looks could kill, Stiles would be... maybe not dead, but at least set on fire. Derek sighed, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders as he rolled his eyes.

“You’re not paying me back, dumbass. You’re already doing a ton for me with this little... charade, the least I can do is make sure your frail human body—“

“Hey!”

”—is comfortable in a lie flat seat.”

“Look, I appreciate that, but I’m not leaving Scott alone on his flight in coach just because of our... fake... whatever.”

Stiles’ voice trailed off in curiosity as Derek sighed, his cheeks pink as he pulled the paper out of Stiles’ hand, pointing to the second half of the sheet—where MCCALL, SCOTT had been printed in big, bold letters, that Stiles had completely ignored.

“... you got Scott a ticket too?”

“Of course I did. He’s your best friend, I wasn’t going to ask you to leave him behind just for me. Besides, who do you think I got your information from to book the flight?” Derek said dryly, as though his deadpan delivery could cancel out the ruddy color to his cheeks, or the way that Stiles’ stomach flip flopped when the reality of that sunk in.

It was nice that Derek acknowledged the importance of their friendship, in the way that tugged at the little space right beneath his sternum, but something about the way Derek so quickly dismissed himself was... concerning.

Stiles couldn’t help but play that little bit of their conversation over in his head as he packed, as he hopped on the train, as he met up with Scott and Derek in security.

Scott, bless his heart, was absolutely elated—his excitement was almost tangible as they dropped off luggage, walked through security, and stood around at the boarding gate. Derek had to smack the both of them to get them to stand up when first class was called to board, and Stiles idly wondered if Derek regretted associating himself with them when he and Scott managed to trip in sync as they went down the jetway.

Derek and Stiles were seated together, of course, and once Stiles got over the novelty of not having a middle seat on a plane, he liked to imagine he fit right in—easing back into the seat, enjoying the comfort of the little blanket he had been given, grinning at the flight attendant as she checked in with them.

(Scott was one row ahead and across the aisle, close enough that Stiles could lean forward and smack him if he wanted to... but the moment Stiles saw his seat mate, a pretty woman with dark hair and impeccable eyeliner, he knew his best bro would be on a different planet for the entirety of the flight.)

His grin slipped a little bit, though, as he thought back to the conversation surrounding the tickets, and he looked up to Derek as he settled in a bit further.

“So, we never went over what role I should be taking on.”

“Stiles, just be yourself. You’re funny enough, and you generally mean well, they’ll love who you are.”

Yeah… who he was. Well, who he was was someone who was going to be dangerously invested in a fake relationship that would probably end terribly for him, so that was fun. He sighed as he settled into the seat, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he debated on where to go from here.

No time like a non stop plane ride to have a potentially awkward conversation, right?

“Dude, we’re friends, right?”

“We’re fake boyfriends, don’t call me dude.”

Derek’s tone was teasing as he flipped through his SkyMall, a small smile on his face, and Stiles felt a little bit of the tension ease out of his shoulders as he buckled in.

“First of all, I have called many boyfriends ‘dude’ before,” Stiles started, ignoring Derek’s snort of laughter, “and I’m being serious. We... we are friends, right?”

Be it his words or his awkward energy, Derek looked up, surprise on his face as he closed the magazine and stowed it away as the plane bumped down the taxiway.

“Of course we are, Stiles. You’re like... the only person I talk to at work outside of teaching, that’s light years ahead of most of New York as a whole.”

“I mean, I’m glad to hear, I just...” Stiles chewed on his lip as he turned in his seat, weirdly soothed by the roar of the engines as the takeoff roll started. “You know about my dad, and about my school, and about Scott, and those are basically the three important things in my life,” he started, letting out a sigh as Derek just stared at him blankly.

“It’s fine that you’re a private person, I can respect that... seriously, I may not understand it, but I can respect it,” Stiles said, grinning as Derek shot him a look, lowering his voice again as he leaned over the divider between them. “But I didn’t know that you were from my hometown, too. Or that you had sisters, let alone other family. I should have asked, I guess, but... you know you can talk to me about things, yeah? Even after all this is over, you’ll always be Derek to me. Not just another Hale.”

Stiles’ was smiling as he gently bumped Derek’s shoulder with his own, watching the way different emotions warred over his face, biting back on the urge to babble on so he could give Derek the time he needed to respond.

“We’re... we are friends, Stiles. We are.” Derek insisted, looking down to his linked hands as the plane continued to rise. “Sometimes, I just... I’m not great about talking about myself.”

For a while, Stiles thought that was all he was going to get, and honestly, he was fine with it—it wasn’t until the fasten seatbelt sign chimed off and the flight attendants passed out little bottles of water that Derek spoke again, his voice low as he cleared his throat.

“My family is huge. Like, big enough that we need spreadsheets and flowcharts to organize family events like this. I know they love me, and I love them too, of course I do, but I made some really, really stupid decisions when I was younger… I know they forgave me for it, but...”

Derek sighed, taking a deep breath as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Sometimes it’s hard to be around them and still be okay with myself, you know?”

No, Stiles didn’t know. He only had his dad and Scott growing up, but he nodded his head encouragingly as he took a sip of his water.

“I actually have four siblings. Mark is the oldest, and then Taylor, and I’m right between Laura and Cora. They’re betas, like my dad; my mom and I are both alphas, her mom, too…” Derek continued, and Stiles smiled as he settled into his seat.

By the time the flight landed, Stiles’ head was full to the brim with Hale family trivia, names, faces, teasing stories, and the warmth that had danced across Stiles’ chest for the past year or so had bloomed into a full-on fire.

Would it lead to his downfall? Probably.

But when he saw how Derek smiled when he remembered Mark’s graduating medical school, or heard the pride in his voice when he talked about Laura’s charity work, and the genuine joy he got to see when he heard another story about Derek’s childhood… well, that was all more than worth it.

—————

“I think you should kiss me.”

Stiles had to stop himself from laughing at the look that Derek shot him, doing his best to keep his body language casual as he leaned against the gas pump at a tiny station outside of Beacon Hills, though he knew his heart was going at about a million miles a minute.

“I—you—what?”

“Derek, I’m an affectionate dude, in case you couldn’t tell from all the hand holding. And if you’re going to freak out if I kiss your cheek, then you should freak out now, not when we’re in front of your family.”

Stiles knew full well his heart betrayed his confidence, but seeing Derek’s ears go pink as he dumped the armful of snacks Stiles had asked for into the back seat was a welcome sight—it was always nice to know that Derek’s cool and controlled exterior could be ruffled up once in a while.

Somewhere between the rental kiosk and the gas station, Stiles had decided that he was going to go all in on this. His little crush was already stuck right in the back of his throat and would be unlikely to dislodge any time soon, so he figured that indulging himself in the fake relationship Derek had set up for him… well, it wouldn’t do any good, but it was unlikely to make things worse for him than it already was.

It was a little weird being alone with Derek—Stiles didn’t realize it until now, but between meeting Derek’s sisters and meeting the rest of their family, this was the first time they had been alone together. They had other staff members at school, or strangers around the city, or Scott (who had politely declined a ride back to Beacon Hills with Derek and Stiles, choosing instead to split an Uber with his pretty new friend, Kira).

“You know, as far as first kisses go, usually they’re a little more romantic than just a demand. You’re supposed to woo me, Stiles,” Derek said, his sarcastic tone betrayed by his shy little smile as he pulled the nozzle out of his tank, closing the gas cap as Stiles gasped in mock offense.

“Hey, I said you should kiss me, not the other way around. Why should I have to be the one to woo?” Stiles started, sliding into the passenger’s seat as Derek followed suit. “After all, this relationship wouldn’t have even happened without your instigation, so why should I… uh… Der?”

Stiles’ voice trailed off as Derek’s hand sunk into the soft crook at the juncture of his neck, effectively cutting off his entire train of thought as Derek’s thumb pressed against the hollow of his jaw.

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“O-Okay.”

For a minute, all Stiles could think of were those cheesy old rom-coms, where fireworks would go off, or bells would chime, but kissing Derek was nothing like that. It was the comfort of wrapping yourself in an electric blanket, instead of the shock of jumping into a frozen pond; the familiar buzz of goosebumps over his skin over a bolt of lightning. He felt a surprised little noise leave his chest as Derek’s tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue flicking out instinctively to drag along Derek’s bottom lip, hands coming up to rest against the wolves chest.

Stiles could feel his heart beating through every inch of his skin as the kiss broke, struggling to remind himself how to breathe as he opened his eyes again, his nose brushing against Derek’s as he let out a little huff of a laugh.

“Was that enough woo for you?” Derek asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, and Stiles smiled as he nodded his head, savoring the way that neither of them moved back. Derek’s hand was warm against the crook of his jaw, his own palm flat against Derek's chest, and it was natural, it was so nice, it was—

Fake. It was all fake.

Stiles sighed, closing his eyes as he gently leaned in and pressed their foreheads together, that mantra playing through his head as he pulled himself back. He buckled himself in easily as he took in a deep breath, his goofy grin still in place as he looked back up to Derek.

“See? Now you can honestly tell your mom we had our first kiss at a gas station and that it was magical and I totally rocked your world.”

“Is that what happened, though? I mean, if you wanted me to kiss you so badly, you should have just asked,” Derek said, the sarcasm thick in his voice as he started the car, and Stiles laughed as they pulled out of the lot, his hand finding Derek’s easily once again.

Their silence remained comfortable as they left the city skyline behind and basically blew through Beacon Hills, the trees inching closer to the road as they wound through the preserve.

Finishing off a bag of M&M’s, Stiles cleared his throat as he crumpled up the wrapper and chucked it in the back seat, sucking a little bit of melted chocolate off of his thumb. “So. Is this regular introducing-the-boyfriend-to-the-family nerves I’m looking at here, or is this introducing-the-fake-boyfriend-to-the-family nerves? You don’t have any weirdos in your family, do you? An ex-felon auntie? A cousin who doesn’t quite get personal space?”

Stiles grinned as Derek laughed, oddly comforted by the sound as Derek shook his head. “Nothing exciting. A weird uncle, I guess. Lots of cousins, you should basically abandon any idea of personal space as soon as we walk in, and plenty of human family, too—so you won’t be alone in that. As far as felons go, well… none of us have been caught?”

“Hey, game recognizes game, it doesn’t count if you don’t get caught. And I can work with a weird uncle.” Stiles laughed at the sheepish look that Derek shot his way, his fingers still happily wrapped up in Derek’s warm hands. He could almost feel it when they crossed over onto the Hale land, the huge, white house as much of a giveaway as the shrieks of joy that even Stiles could hear from the property.

“They’re gonna love you, you know?” Derek’s voice was soft as he pulled the rental into a long row of cars, nearly lining the road leading up to the house, and Stiles felt the snarky remark die on his tongue as Derek caught his eye, his expression somewhere between grateful and wistful as he turned the car off.

“Maybe, but…” Stiles sighed as he popped his door open, chewing over his next words carefully. “But if they do, it’s because they already love you.”

He took it as a personal victory when Derek turned away, his ears pink again, and Stiles couldn’t help but grin as he followed the werewolf up the path to his family home.

The Hale House was probably as huge and impressive as the Hale family itself from the outside, and Stiles did his best not to gape like a fool as Derek opened the door for him, his hand finding the small of Stiles’ back as they stepped into the house. Polished floors, huge, high windows, a grand staircase that was the definition of grand, and—

“Derek!”

—and another unfairly attractive Hale moving forward to greet them. Tall, broad, dark hair with just a splash of salt around the temples and the goatee, shining a million watt smile on Derek and Stiles as he wiped his hands on his probably-uncomfortably-tight jeans.

Jesus, was everyone in this family gorgeous? Stiles was going to get a complex.

He looked up as the stranger and Derek briefly hugged, watching the halfway-subtle way they scented one another, Mark’s head buried in Derek’s neck for a half moment before they pulled away. If Stiles strained his ear, he could have heard something along the lines of ‘be nice’ as Derek pulled back; if the situation weren’t so funny, Stiles probably would have blushed.

“Don’t listen to him, I’m always nice. I’m Mark, and you…” Mark started, his million watt smile back in place as his eyes dragged over Stiles’ body, “... you must be Stiles.” Stiles snorted as Mark pulled him into an easy hug, catching Stiles just a little off-guard as he was wrapped in another pair of arms.

Apparently Derek’s family was an affectionate bunch. Stiles didn’t know if it was a wolf thing or a Hale thing, but either way, it was good to know.

“Mark, uh, Seattle, right? You’re the surgeon?” Stiles asked, clearing his throat as the hug carried on just a bit too long, regaining some footing in the introduction as he pulled back. “Derek’s told me a lot about you.”

That was… mostly true, Derek had told him enough about Mark to thoroughly embarrass the older male, and Mark looked like he expected nothing less as he laughed, holding Stiles’ shoulders as he stood at arms length. “Yeah, I’m sure he did, but it’s probably all garbage. After all, how can you really describe a wonder like me in words, huh?”

He actually winked, and Stiles honestly couldn’t believe that this dude was for real.

“Der, nice job with this one. He’s cute. Kid, is my brother treating you well? Cause, you know, if Hale is your taste, you can do much better than—”

”Mark—“

“Oh, lighten up Der-bear, there isn’t enough Botox in the world to get rid of those scowl lines. It was a joke. Now come on, everyone’s out back.”

Stiles laughed again as Mark put Derek in an easy headlock, ruffling up his hair as he led them outside, immediately filing ‘Der-bear’ away for future use as they stepped out into the backyard.

The backyard, which was absolutely filled with Hales.

He felt his heart do a funny little lurch as he was hit with the sheer family of it all—all dark haired, all gorgeous, and for just a moment, he wanted to smack Derek upside the head. There were probably generations of Hales here; Derek had all this family, this built in support group, and he was just going to spend the summer holed up in New York?

“Alright, Siles, we’re gonna keep you in with the main family and keep you away from the cousins,” Mark started, artfully ignoring the way Derek was swatting at him. “Uncle Peter all but insisted that Mom come pick him up, so you’ll get to avoid them until later tonight, but who you really want to watch out for is—“

“Is that my grandbaby?!”

Mark stiffened as Derek perked up, and Stiles couldn’t help but snicker as a bony hand shot up, grabbing Mark by the scruff of his neck, pulling him off of Derek with a flourish that would probably seem overly dramatic if Stiles didn’t know just how much werewolf strength was packed behind it.

“Derek!”

“Hi, Nana.”

Stiles couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as Derek leaned in to wrap his arms around the older woman—she was a good foot shorter than he was, her movements loud, with light skinned with the same tell-tale black hair that the rest of the family had. What caught Stiles’ eye, though, was the way Derek scented her—it was the same way Mark scented him, a familial nudge that Stiles read easily as a sign of deference.

Whoever this Nana was, she was clearly the woman in charge here.

“You know, we’re all technically her grandbabies,” Mark started as he reappeared at Stiles’ shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck, his childish pout painfully obvious as he pointed his words. “But you wouldn’t know it with the blatant favoritism she shows for Derek!”

“Mark, don’t be such a baby,” Nana Hale said as she pulled back from Derek’s hug, patting his cheek affectionately. She raised a brow in a spectacularly unimpressed fashion as she turned to look at her eldest grandson, sighing in mock disappointment. “Not that I thought a career based off of liposuction and face lifts would have brought you some maturity.”

“That’s—I don’t just do—Nana!”

“Now, who do we have here? Derek, are you going to introduce me to your special friend?”

Ignoring Mark’s protests easily as she turned her attention, Stiles felt his heart pick up again, his eyes flicking to Derek as he beamed; Stiles wasn’t sure if he was happy to see Mark get smacked down, or if he was happy to introduce Stiles, but Stiles would have literally killed a man to see Derek smile that brightly on a regular basis.

“Nana, this is my boyfriend, Stiles Stilinski. Stiles, this is my grandmother, Ger—“

“Nana Hale will do just fine, thank you very much,” she interrupted, pulling a face that made Stiles grin—he could absolutely relate to someone who would rather set their birth name on fire than own up to it. “Now, come here, let me get a look at you.”

Stiles stepped forward and hesitated a half moment, not sure if he should try one last time for a handshake or wait for her to initiate a hug, but before he could make up his mind she had her hands clasped on his elbows, a grip like iron stopping him in his tracks.

“Scrawny little thing, aren’t you? We’ll take care of that, don’t you worry. It’s good to meet you, sweetheart, let’s get you some food.”

“It’s good to meet you too—and some food sounds great,” Stiles said with a laugh, ignoring the fact that he was still full of junk food as Nana Hale all but preened beside him. Her grip was gentle but unyielding as she dragged him to a table that was piled with food, giving a half wave to Laura and Cora, who were stationed beside a punch bowl the size of a fish tank as he kept himself a half step behind Nana.

Stiles wasn’t dumb, okay? He knew how to make nice with wolves, and more importantly, he knew how to be subtle.

(He didn’t like it, but he knew how to do it.)

“Uncle Derek! Get Uncle Derek!!”

Thankfully, the moment was over in a flash as Stiles heard a familiar name called out in a high pitched squeal, looking back out to the yard where a hoard of kids had just caught sight (or scent?) of Derek, immediately abandoning the rough-and-tumble games they seemed to be wrapped up in to run toward Derek as fast as their little legs could carry them.

Derek immediately tensed, a manic grin on his face as he prepared to run, body twitching as he caught himself before taking off. He sent a look Stiles’ way that was somehow both apologetic and asking remission, and Stiles sighed as he smiled.

“You better run, Uncle Derek. They’re gonna get you,” Stiles said mock-seriously, only barely keeping a straight face as Derek instead ran straight to the kids, making all sorts of comedic noises as they mobbed his legs.

Fuck, he was cute.

Stiles’ attention was pulled off of Derek as he felt eyes on him, subtly scanning the yard before he made eye contact with another adult in the family, who was very shirtless, and very sweaty, and very much walking toward them with a bright smile on his face.

Okay, Stiles was definitely getting a complex.

“You must be Stiles!” he exclaimed once he was closer to their little group, and Stiles had never been as thankful for a child as he was for the tiny body perched on top of the other males shoulders, because he was just about at his ‘hugging gorgeous people’ limit. He was still sweating, for fucks sake, but Stiles supposed that even a wolf got tired out when they had eight kids hanging from their body until Uncle Derek stepped in.

“I am, and…” Stiles was about to assume this was the firefighter sibling, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the kid on top of his shoulders smiled, and Stiles was absolutely smitten. “And who is this little guy?”

The distraction was apparently a welcome one, because shirtless dude’s smile grew even wider, reaching up to pat the kid on a mop of curly hair before he lifted him up and over, holding him at chest level. “This is Isaac. Isaac, can you say hi to Stiles? He’s your uncle Derek’s special friend.”

Stiles literally felt his heart melt as Isaac gave a shy little wave, looking up at him with big blue eyes. He couldn’t have been older than three or four, and Stiles smiled and waved back as Isaac was set down on the ground.

“You wanna go play with Uncle D?” Any hint of shyness was forgotten the moment the question was asked, taking off toward Derek as fast as his little legs could carry him, which… wasn’t very fast, but was very, very cute.

“They all yours?” Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked over to Derek, who now had at least six kids hanging off of him. He smiled as the other male shivered, shaking his head quickly.

“God no, just the three. Erica and Boyd, and Isaac too, now that the adoption has been finalized. Those kids basically run the joint, Derek included—as long as you don’t mind the occasional toddler mobbing, you’ll fit in just fine.”

“Thanks, random shirtless man, I really hope so.”

Stiles grinned as Laura choked on a mouthful of punch, the weirdness of the situation apparently just now visible to her as she sputtered, punching her brother in the arm. “Oh god, Taylor, what is wrong with you! Go put on a shirt, you can’t just—you didn’t even introduce yourself, I swear—Stiles is a guest, you weirdo!”

They kept bickering back and forth as Taylor pulled an undershirt on over his head, the whining turning into background noise as he poured himself a glass of punch. He knew perfectly well what Laura was trying to say—Stiles is a human—and he was pretty sure he was mostly flattered by everyone trying so hard, but any coherent thought left his head as he took a bite of the ribs, watching Nana Hale grin out of the corner of his eyes as he groaned in delight.

“God, they really do have Derek wrapped around their pudgy fingers,” Cora mused, and Stiles nodded his head, swallowing. It was honestly hilarious to watch Derek try to manage all those kids by himself; they seemed determined to pile themselves onto his head and shoulders, and he could almost see Derek sweat, trying to make sure he didn’t drop anyone as Isaac managed to wriggle his way into Derek’s grip.

He tilted his head in consideration, taking a sip of his drink before he spoke up.

“Yeah, he always did strike me as that kind of Alpha.”

He couldn’t help but savor the way the conversation ground to a halt around him, Laura and Taylor both sucking in a deep breath as Mark shattered the glass he was holding. There probably was a better way to acknowledge that he was in on the secret, but as funny as it was watching Derek’s siblings tiptoe around the fact, he figured it was best to rip the bandaid off in one go.

Even if it meant he had the attention of the Hales closest to him in one second, flat, Nana’s burning red from where she stood with a plate piled high with food.

He probably should have been nervous, but as he looked back at Derek, he could tell it was the right choice—Derek was all smiles, waiting only a beat before he popped his fangs and playfully snapped at one of his little nieces, the air soon full of squealing laughter once again.

Keeping his gaze even, Stiles smiled in thanks as he took the plate of food Nana offered to him, watching as her eyes melted back into their darker, human color. She was staring at him like he was a particularly complex puzzle, and she wasn’t alone—Cora looked hilariously outraged that she didn’t realize sooner, and even Mark was looking over him with renewed interest as his hand healed.

“I knew you were a smart boy. He told you?”

Nana’s question was accusing, but not unkind, and Stiles shrugged it off easily as he popped a chip into his mouth.

��He didn’t have to. My best friend was bitten when we were both fifteen. He didn’t have… anything, no alpha, no pack, just me and my mad Googling skills, and we’ve had plenty of supernatural run-ins over the years. Derek didn’t tell me because he didn’t have to tell me—I’m not anything special, but I’d like to think I can spot a non-human from at least fifty feet. Maybe more on a good day.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”

Stiles jumped as he heard Derek’s voice from behind him, and it truly was a credit to his poise and sophistication that he only blushed a little as Derek’s arm snaked around his waist. His body was warm, far warmer than it had been ten minutes ago, and Derek’s breath came a little heavy as he kissed the back of Stiles’ head.

“You are definitely something special.”

“You—you absolute cheeseball, what is wrong with you—” Stiles managed to get out as he shoved at Derek’s shoulder, his entire face burning red as Laura and Cora both gagged. Any residual awkwardness melted away as Nana’s sharp laugh cut through the air, the sound putting him back at ease as he leaned back into Derek’s warmth.

Somewhere between the fortieth round of storytelling and the gathering moving back into the house, Stiles needed a breather. Derek’s family was huge, and loud, and honestly, Stiles loved it—but it wasn’t long before he felt an itch beneath his skin, his fingers buzzing against his thigh, the muscles in his jaw a little too tight.

Stiles had expected Derek to be pretty popular in the family—what he didn’t expect, though, was that he would be anything more than an introduction and the same polite questions that everyone gave the new boyfriend.

“Wait, no fucking way did the two of you take down a Kanima, Stiles, I’m calling bullshit right now—“

Derek’s siblings were great, but they were also the worst; the minute they found out that Stiles had his own supernatural background, they were pestering him for stories, demanding his opinion of things, getting more and more exasperated with his entire life the more he shared.

Stiles knew that his life was crazy, okay? He didn’t need the constant reminders or the slack-jawed shocked expressions to reinforce that fact.

“Jesus, we didn’t even know that there were any wendigos in the state, and you knew an entire family of them?”

The only stories he flat out refused to talk about were the… issues he had had with hunters through high school—this was a party, after all, and he didn’t want to be the one to bring the vibe down by talking about the one time an assassin held a gun to his head to try and draw Scott out.

Fun times.

“What do you mean, you just know a banshee? And set her up with a hellhound? Dude, who are you?!”

Kissing Derek had, oddly enough, only exasperated the situation. In less than a day, they had gotten better at trading little affections back and forth; but instead of helping Stiles calm down, they only increased that thrumming nerves that bounced around at the base of his skull.

Which sucked, honestly, because kissing Derek was… really, really nice.

Stiles waited until another cousin who’s name he would never remember caught Derek up in a conversation about another tradition he couldn’t follow before he squeezed Derek’s hand, taking the opportunity to stand up from his spot on the couch and slip away.

The Hale House was huge, and outside was no exception; Stiles soon found himself on the porch, a huge wraparound wooden structure with built-in benches that let you enjoy the kind of view that made Stiles remember why he loved home so much. He treated himself to a few pictures of the sunset over Beacon Canyon before he flopped himself down on a bench, rubbing at his neck.

“Stiles? Everything alright?”

He had half expected Derek to follow him out after a few moments—but to his surprise, it was Nana Hale that sat beside him, her cheeks still pink with laughter as she tucked a jet black flyaway behind an ear.

“Is—oh, no, it’s great! Just wanted to, uh, snap a few pictures of the view.”

Another half truth—he was full to bursting with those lately.

“I know that our family can be… a little overwhelming,” she said, her tone even as she rose a brow, keeping her gaze forward as her fingers drummed a pattern into her knee.

Stiles hummed in agreement, his own smile a touch more genuine as he looked over to her. “Maybe, but that’s not a bad thing. When I was growing up, I spent so much time wondering what it would be like, to have siblings, and cousins, and… well, it might be a lot, but it’s a lot of love, too. I’m really glad Derek has that kind of support.”

Nana’s fingers stilled against her knee as she turned to face Stiles, and for the first time, Stiles was really able to get a good look at her properly. He could understand why she was the matriarch of the family, and how she had kept that title so long; even if he hadn’t witnessed her taking Mark down less than four hours ago, there was a whole other kind of strength that she was showing here, radiating off of her in waves.

“He does. But he doesn’t just have us for love and support... or was I reading the way you look at him wrong?” Her tone was teasing as she rose her brow, and Stiles felt his cheeks pink up spectacularly as he coughed, his eyes flashing back to the window for only a moment before Nana patted his knee.

“Don’t worry, the house is completely soundproof. Those nosy little pups can’t hear a word we say. Now tell me, how long have you been in love with my grandson?”

Now fully, beautifully red, Stiles groaned as he hid his face in his hands, Nana’s laughter ringing strong and clear as she stood up and walked toward the railing. “Oh don’t be so dramatic, I have no intention of spoiling that surprise until you’re ready to really woo him with it. And you’d better woo him! You know as well as I do that he deserves the romancing.”

Her tone softened as she chuckled, trailing off with a sigh and a sort of wistful smile as she shook her head. “New York has been good to him. You have, too, I think. California was… a rough part in his life.”

Something in the way she phrased it got the investigative side of his brain thrumming, his curiosity piqued as he remembered what Derek said on the plane.

‘I know they forgave me, but… sometimes it’s hard to be around them and still be okay with myself, you know?’

The nosy part of him wanted to pry, to dig a little more, but his eyes flicked back to the window again, where Derek and all four of his siblings were doing a terrible job at acting like they weren't trying to stare him down.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll tell me when he’s ready.”

Apparently, that was the right answer—Nana’s face softened again as she smiled, nodding her head, beckoning Stiles into standing up. She put her hand in the crook of his elbow easily, steering them back toward the house in a way that allowed no room for compromise.

“You are going to be good for my Der-bear, I know it.”

“Oh, I mean, I hope so. Derek deserves that, and I definitely—“

“Just let him be good for you, too.”

She reached up and patted Stiles cheek as he stared at her, dumbfounded, automatically opening the door for her as she walked back into the house. His expression was mirrored in the matching expressions of slack-jawed shock from all five Hale siblings, all staring at Stiles as Nana started in on another family story that would be sure to embarrass Mark, or Laura, or anyone who wasn’t Derek.

He meant what he said, of course. Derek deserved someone who would be good for him.

Somehow, that was the problem here.

—————

“Stiles, you reek of nerves. All I can smell is nerves and bell peppers. It’s not a good smell. Are you going to tell me what you’re freaking out about, or what?”

Stiles jolted as Derek called him out so effortlessly, pulled out of the trance he had fallen into as he watched Derek work, pushing around some of the barbecue from the night prior with some fresh chopped veggies into a delightful spur of the moment stir fry.

Derek was also as dressed down as Stiles had ever seen him, in a light grey henley and a dark pair of jeans, and that was even more delightful than the stir fry.

“Wait, you—that’s just something you can do? Oh god, your entire family must have known how nervous I was yesterday, did they—“

“Stiles. Breathe.”

Right. Breathing. He could do that.

…. maybe.

The truth was, Stiles could honestly say that he was having a great time back in Beacon Hills.

Derek and his family were great, no lie, and fake relationship aside, the researcher in him was absolutely thriving seeing how a huge, well-established pack worked with one another. They were literally a well oiled machine, the personification of the old ‘it takes a village’ metaphor, and the only thing that amazed Stiles more than how well they worked together was how well they adapted to Stiles being there.

Of course, he thought a big part of that came from having the Alphas on his side—not just Derek, but Nana too.

(“I can’t believe she hugged you,” Laura had hissed after yet another glass of infused punch. “When she met my last boyfriend, she threw him off the porch.”

“Well, Stiles is a fragile little human,” Taylor had snorted, ignoring the way Stiles smacked his arm, “and Hank was a major, prolapsed asshole.”

“Well yeah, but that’s not the point!”)

As great as Derek and his family was though, getting to come home and surprise his dad early… well, there was no place on the planet he would rather be than wrapped in a signature Stilinski hug, the kind of hug where you held on just a little longer than you needed to so you can pretend you definitely weren’t crying.

He got to watch a game with his dad, he got to sleep in his old, lumpy-ass childhood bed, he got to make breakfast in his mom’s kitchen.

So yeah. Great time.

Or at least, it had been, until a text rolled through after he kissed his dad goodbye that morning.

der-bear: Do you want to come over for lunch? Nana has everyone out of the house, Mom and Uncle Peter showed up this morning and he’s already driving everyone crazy.

sent: sure man. want me to bring anything? :)

der-bear: Don’t worry about it. Besides, I figure we should talk before the bonfire anyway.

And just like that, something brought around a cloud to rain on Stiles’ parade.

“Is it about tonight?” Derek asked, and if Stiles’ hadn’t been so laser focused on his cooking technique (his arms, okay, he was staring at Derek’s arms) he probably would have missed the way Derek hesitated when he asked, like he was afraid of the answer.

He picked himself up off of the barstool at the island in their gigantic kitchen, leaning against the counter closer to Derek, reaching in to pluck a chunk of onion out of the pan, skillfully avoiding the swat from Derek’s wooden spoon. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you… You know we’re looking forward to having you with us, right?” Derek asked, spooning some of the food onto two separate plates, using his claws to rip two fresh chunks of bread off of a loaf. “But if you don’t… I mean, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be there if you don’t want to.”

Stiles frowned as he accepted one of the plates, pulling the smaller chunk of bread off of one of Derek’s claws, mulling his next words over. “As long as you want me there I’ll be there,” Stiles said slowly, because there really was no way to politely say that Stiles would rather throw himself into the sun before his mythical lore studying ass missed out on observing pack activity on a blue moon.

“Why would you think I didn’t want you there?” Derek asked, looking like he was offended at the very notion, sliding a fork to Stiles as he sat down at the countertop, that offended look only growing as Stiles snorted.

“I dunno, I thought you might have changed your mind about it. Dude, you sent me a ‘we should talk’ text. I’m no expert, but I know that nothing good follows a ‘we should talk’ text,” Stiles said around a mouth full of bread, but any degree of playful levity he had gone for was sapped out of his voice the moment he saw Derek look back down at his plate.

“That, uh. I do think we should talk, but not about that. Stiles, I...”

Ah, fuck. Derek’s ears were pink again, and for once, Stiles thought that was a bad thing.

Stiles did his best not to panic as he thought through things, wondering what he had fucked up, because he just knew he had fucked up a little something. Maybe he had come on a little too strong last night, maybe he had gotten too comfortable with his crush, maybe—

“I was thinking that maybe… we shouldn’t be faking this anymore.”

—or maybe, he had fucked up a whole lot of everything.

Stiles felt his heart sink through his shoes as he swallowed his bread, his appetite suddenly gone. He brushed his hands on his jeans, giving a few short nods, swallowing again as he pushed back from the table a little bit. He thought for a moment that he should argue against it, but Derek had a sad puppy expression splashed across his face, and Stiles wasn’t strong against that on a good day.

“Oh.”

He could feel Derek’s eyes tracking him as he started to move, standing up and starting an easy track around the kitchen, flexing his fingers before he rubbed his palm with his thumbs, an old habit he had thought he had kicked back when he graduated from Berkeley.

“I think, uh, maybe you should wait until you’re back in New York to tell your family?” Stiles started, missing the tiny smile on Derek’s face before it melted into a look of confusion. “You should tell them I broke up with you, not the other way around, I don’t mind being the bad guy,” he added, staring down at his hands.

“Wait, Stiles—“

“No, seriously, it’s fine,” Stiles interrupted, putting a smile back on his face, because he knew this was going to be coming at some point. Derek had made up their entire relationship, and Stiles had worked hard to remember that the reality of it was… that it wasn’t reality. He was the one with the inconvenient crush, he was the one who had gotten stupid. This was all on him, and taking the high road to bow out gracefully would be too.

Or, at least, it should have been. But Derek had abandoned his seat as well, halfway following Stiles in his trail around the kitchen, putting his arm out against a countertop to stop Stiles at a turn.

“I said I wanted to stop faking, Stiles.”

Hell, when had Derek gotten so close to him? Stiles blinked as he backed up against the counter, Derek’s arms closing him in, and suddenly he was getting an up close and personal look at Derek’s lips, and his eyes, and the way the blush was going back up his ears, and—

...why was Derek blushing?

“I never said anything about wanting you to leave.”

But why would Stiles be staying if… oh. Oh.

Realization dawned on Stiles’ face as Derek blushed and looked down, moving his hands a little bit closer against the counter, and Stiles felt a shiver run down his spine as he felt Derek’s thumb settle right along his hip. He had to clear his throat before he could speak, swallowing down the hope that was threatening to bubble over, chewing on his lip as he put one hand on Derek’s chest, the other gently tipping his head back to look him in the eye.

“Dude, if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, you gotta spell it out, I’ve had a crush on you for like forever and if I’m mis-reading this—”

“I told you. I’m your boyfriend, don’t call me dude.”

Stiles laughed again, elation making him feel light and giddy, finally breaking eye contact with Derek as he felt his own blush burn through the back of his neck.

“Stay, Stiles. You belong here. With me.”

Rather than even try to form a coherent response, Stiles dropped one of his hands, cheeks still a ruddy color as he looped a finger into one of the belt loops on Derek’s designer jeans, pulling him just that much closer.

“Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Oh, thank God—"

—————

Yeah, Stiles thought hours later, still feeling the warmth of Derek’s smile against his lips as howls sounded off around the Hale House, moonlight swirling around him from the vantage point he had on the porch.

This was exactly where he belonged.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #hale family #teen wolf fic #fake dating #everyone lives #two halves of a whole idiot #this is actually my first sterek fic ever lmao HOW WILD

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moonsubinpr · 3 years

Text

[Lee Soo Hyuk — 35 — he/him] Introducing MOON SUBIN. Word on the street is they are a PRESS SECRETARY FOR THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY affiliated with the DEMOCRATIC PARTY. Though they are RESERVED and INTIMIDATING, they can also be DEPENDABLE and HARDWORKING. In the chaos of New York City, they’re sure to fit right in.

Biography. Ask. Wanted Connections.

I. WRITER’S INTRODUCTION

First of all, I want to introduce myself. You all can call me Jackie, and I am a twenty-one year old graduate student residing within the Eastern Standard Timezone (EST). I have been roleplaying for about 10 years now, however, I took a hiatus from writing on Tumblr due to migrating to other platforms that are more mobile friendly in terms of writing. Now that I have a greater availability, as well as not fond of the newfound style of roleplay on platforms such as Twitter or MeWe, I have returned in hopes to better develop characters and build better connections with other writers. Aside from writing, I enjoy spending quality time with my cat, going out to explore newfound areas, thrifting, reading, and watching random reality television shows. I look forward to getting to know everyone! Feel free to message me for plotting, headcanoning, or for a casual conversation.

II. BASICS

NAME: MOON SUBIN

AGE: THIRTY-FIVE

DATE OF BIRTH: 1986 MAY 31

GENDER: CISMALE

PRONOUNS: HE / HIM

SEXUALITY: PANSEXUAL

HOMETOWN: IOWA CITY, IOWA

AFFILIATION: THE GOVERNMENT

JOB POSITION: DISTRICT ATTORNEY’S PRESS SECRETARY

EDUCATION: BA IN JOURNALISM FROM NYU

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: SINGLE

CHILDREN: NONE

POSITIVE TRAITS: ELOQUENT, INDEPENDENT, INTELLIGENT, RESPONSIBLE, MATURE, REASONABLE

NEGATIVE TRAITS: RESERVED, BLUNT, INTIMIDATING, DEMANDING, SARCASTIC

FACECLAIM: LEE SOO HYUK

III. POINTS ABOUT THE MUSE

Moon Subin was born into a rather average household in Heukseok-dong, Seoul, South Korea. His mother, a down-to-earth woman with a contagious smile, worked alongside her mother as a food vendor in one of the city’s largest market. The two were acutely known for their blood sausages as well as jangeo-gui (grilled eel). In fact, this is how the young woman met the young businessman. Running from a class with only a few cash in hand, he stopped at mother’s spot, asking for anything he could get with the amount of money available. She laughed at his lack of time management, and he only stated that he’ll make time to see her better next time. The following day, he returned and sat to chat with the woman.

Subin was unplanned. The two were not yet wedded when discovering that the woman fell pregnant. However, never did the young couple refer to the baby as a mistake. Rather, they saw Subin’s life as a blessing to better plan for their fast approaching future. During the time in which the woman was pregnant, the man was offered an opportunity to continue his university studies abroad. Sent to Iowa City, Iowa, the young couple packed their belongings and settled within the United States. It’s in this city where Subin would be born, granting him American citizenship despite his parents yet to become naturalized citizens.

Falling in love with the environment, the mother and father went through various means in order to further extend their stay within the country. From a student visa to a work visa, the father was granted more time to better prepare for the examination of becoming U.S. citizens. While his father began to work in a local company specializing in medical prosthetics, his mother worked at a local Chinese restaurant where she befriended Chinese immigrants who helped her with assimilating into the culture.

Subin grew up in an environment where he witnessed the benefits of hard work. His parents worked many hours in order to provide for him as well as to their community. He found this to be admirable, and this encouraged the young boy to succeed in his academics so that he could provide for his parents in the future.

He became interested in the field of communications due to constantly acting as the translator for his parents when making doctor appointments or trying to pitch the best deal at a cars dealership. Words were fascinating, and he especially thought this was the case after reading a number of novels written by authors such as H.G. Wells and Amy Tan. His interest in communications got him involved with the morning news at his middle school and high school. During his four years at high school, he also participated in Model UN and the Debate team. These involvements were the result of his great achievements in social studies courses, and his teachers encouraged him to get involved with these extracurricular activities.

Due to awards achieved in high school, he was granted a scholarship to attend New York University in New York City. Although his parents did not want him to leave their home, they eventually came to terms that this would be good for his future successes. Thus, he went to attend NYU for a Bachelors in Journalism with a minor in Politics. Thanks to amazing professors and establishing connections through networking events, the young man was able to maintain a number of internships---such as volunteering for the current Governor’s former campaign in the creative team for marketing. He later volunteered alongside CNN professionals, and he gained an internship experience with the Manhattan District Attorney’s Office as Press Office Intern. By the time he graduated from university, he’s already met a number of influential, powerful people of the big city.

Upon graduation, he was able to get a job at the Manhattan District Attorney Office as Press Officer due to his wonderful performance during his internship with the office. He held this position for two years before being promoted as Deputy Press Secretary for the office. However, in less than 2 years, he was able to maintain the Press Secretary position due to the former Press Secretary’s leave to another office. In another year, he was granted the position of Deputy Director of Communications for the Manhattan District Attorney’s Office. Subin held this position up until he was given the opportunity to work as the city’s District Attorney’s main Press Secretary.

During his years working for the city and learning about the mishaps behind the scenes, Subin has been able to learn a lot about the dirty truth. He is aware that some of the crimes dealt with in the office are a result to the existing gangs within the city. Although his DA remains slightly oblivious to the people surrounding them, Subin maintains awareness due to the connections he’s established during interviews as well as conferences. They threaten Subin to keep quiet. They ask Subin to twist the truth. He does what keeps him safe, but he holds the knowledge close to his heart. The quiet man knows a lot----perhaps more than what the gangs wish for him to know, and this can be dangerous. One never knows what he can do with all of this knowledge. He could expose them to the public whenever he dares to do so. If he really wanted to, of course.

But, for now, he keeps quiet. He does his job and remains cordial with those he establishes some sorts of connection with. If someone he cares about, though, ever gets hurt, he’s not sure what he’ll do. No one knows.

IV. WANTED CONNECTIONS

Any and all possible connections within the Government. I would love to further develop and establish connections within the affiliation in order to better understand Subin’s position in the government as well as with Law Enforcement, for he works within the District Attorney Office; therefore, he has connections with lawyers as well as officers. This can be good or bad, I am open to all possibilities.

For those in Media, Subin is responsible for addressing those in Media in order to report information given by the DA. Those in media could have interviewed Subin, have gone to a number of his press hearings, as well as questioned his intentions or morales within this position. Anyone who does not trust him is very much wanted. A person who trusts him a lot is also wanted.

To those in any gang, people who has paid him or threatened him to withhold information from the public is very much wanted. Give me some angst in regard to perhaps threatening his family. Perhaps people question how Subin can offerd such a luxurious home or car, and this could be due to payments accepted from those within these organizations. I am open to anything.

I am also interested in a secret relationship that should not be a relationship, however, the two continue to pursue one another in sexual and romantic rendezvous. Subin is not entirely the most relationship-orientated person, however, due to a lot of stress within his career, some fun would be favorable.

#pinned.#wb.intro

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inkwell-attitude · 4 years

Text

Liebster Award

The ever-wonderful @ettawritesnstudies nominated me for this! Thank you so much, it means so much to me that you would consider me for it! I always love any way to spread some positivity and encouragement through the community :D

Etta explained the award as “similar to a writeblr tag game meant to introduce you to new blogs and get to know the authors behind them!” She was the one who brought it to tumblr, since it originated in blogs/writer’s websites.

Rules: 1. Thank the blogger that nominated you 2. Answer the 11 questions the blogger asked you 3. Nominate 11 bloggers 4. Ask your nominees 11 questions 5. Notify your 11 nominees

Questions: 1. What’s your favourite part about the writing community?

I love the support everyone always gives to everyone else! Everyone I’ve seen has given nothing but support and enthusiasm for both their writing and others writing, and it really makes me happy to see such a wonderful community.

2. Do you prefer writing dialogue or description, and why?

I prefer description because I love the whimsy I can add to it. Being able to concoct a scene and describe things in ways other than “the sky was blue, the grass was green” is lots of fun. I’m also kind of bad at conversations irl (between my ADD and my minor stutter, I don’t tend to finish a lot of sentences lol) and I think that rolls over into my writing a little bit and makes dialogue a bit harder for me to figure out.

3. Do you have any creative hobbies outside of writing, and how did you get into them?

I am a self-proclaimed proud jack of all trades because I see a craft or activity and MUST try it out. My brain sees a tactile hobby and goes feral. I just really enjoy learning new things :D The recurring hobbies are drawing and very minor animations, but I also have been into embroidery, polymer clay, woodworking (miniatures eeeyyy) and cake decorating?

4. When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?

Two nights ago? I usually get 7.5-8.5 hours of sleep because I just can’t function without sleep. Idk if you can call it a good nights sleep because I tend to wake up several times during the night (how many times is too many?) but I don’t usually have trouble falling asleep.

5. Are you reading/watching/listening to anything right now that you’re excited about?

I’m watching Ann with an E with my mom right now and it’s delightful! it’s a very very lovely show and it’s made me want to re-read the book.

I’m also keeping up with the Dream SMP minecraft series, and lemme tell you I have not been this emotionally invested in a story for a LONG time. Sure, I’ve been excited about some things in the last few months, but I don’t think I’ve really been attached to a story and characters like this for a while. (Plus, every single fanart and fan animation I’ve seen has been tremendously well done and more often than not gets me emotional lmao)

6. What’s your favourite YouTube channel?

I don’t know if I have a favourite? Because I hop around between interests so often I tend to change up my subscriptions a lot, too. Currently, I really like Cheyenne Barton, Technoblade, GeminiTay, and Annika’s leaf

7. What writing advice would you give your younger self?

DO WRITING SPRINTS! This is one of my favourite things now and it’s helped break the habit of “write one sentence, edit it, write another sentence, edit it, delete the first and re-write it” habit. Plus, it’s just a really good exercise to stretch your creativity.

8. What’s your opinion on color coding?

top notch! I think sometimes it can be overdone (throwback to jr. high me color coding everything in my notes to the extent that it was detrimental to my studying) but it really helps me out with things. I color-code vocab words and important persons in my class notes now :D

9. Is there a specific theme or aesthetic that underlies all your stories?

If there is, I haven’t seen it. I think it’s funny that Odds & Ends and The Paths That Bind are actually kind of similar (so far) except one is lighthearted feel-good comedy, and one is corruption and angst and trauma :’) Maybe there will be similar themes, but they’re both in the beginning stages so it hasn’t shown up yet.

10. How many WIPs do you have?

I actually only have two WIPs! I have a few other concepts I’d like to explore in the future, but they’re currently sitting as one-sentence explanations in my notes folder and will probably stay that way until I figure out a more solid plan for Odds & Ends and The Paths That Bind. My irl schedule is very hectic and I’m an inherently tired person, so I’m trying to be more intentional with creative projects and realistic on which ones I want to be able to dedicate my time to.

11. What’s your wildest dream as a creator? (For example, do you want to see fanart of your ocs, have a movie made of your book, etc.)

I adore the idea of someone making an animatic or one of those lyric comic things (idk what they’re called) for The Paths That Bind. So much of it is inspired by music and I’d love to see other people’s takes on the history and events of the story and which songs they would associate with it.

Questions for my wonderful nominees!

1. What’s the earliest story you remember writing? How old were you? 2. Are any of your characters “comfort characters” for yourself? 3. What’s your go-to snack? 4. How do you visualize your wips? Movie-format? Animatic? Comic? 5. What’s your favorite part of each season? 6. Would you rather one (or all) of your wips be made into a movie/tv show or a graphic novel series? 7. Is there a particular form of imagery or symbolism that recurs a lot in your stories? 8. What’s a book (or book series) that you absolutely adore and wish everyone would read? 9. Tell us about your favorite video game and why you love it! (If you don’t game, tell us about another hobby you adore!) 10. What’s the last dream you remember having? 11. How has your writing changed from when you first started? (We all get better, but have you noticed any distinct changes? More/less dialogue, different kind of descriptions, different narrative styles?)

Here are 11 wonderful, talented writers I’ve met here, and everyone should absolutely check out their blogs!

@aelenko

@uraniumwriting

@hueynomure

@writingamongthecoloredroses

@musings-and-writings

@stardustspiral

@druidx73

@eurydice-is-gone

@atomic-insomnia

@chloeswords

@hannahs-creations

#tbh i was a little hesitant to do this #because i'm so inactive on here and i haven't written in a while #but it's about positivity! not productivity!#even if i'm not consistently active on my wips #i still consider them active projects #and i AM going to keep writing them at whatever pace suits me #also everyone should absolutely check out the folks tagged above #they're all insanely talented #tag games #liebster award

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eabhaalynn · 5 years

Text

My 11 Songs of the Decade (because 10 would be boring and is overdone.)

Cigarette Daydreams – Cage the Elephant

The song… This is the closing song of Cage the Elephant’s 2013 album, Melophobia, and the third single released from this album. It describes the pain of someone’s search for their own identity through the musings of a parted lover.

For me… To this day, this is the song I cry to. This always has been me and my friend Iona’s song. It will forever be inseparable from the Ulster Museum and Botanic Gardens in Belfast, from rainy summer’s days and rants about our seemingly massive problems with GCSEs and girls from school. When she went abroad for her gap year, I couldn’t bear to listen to it. It’s another one of these songs that manages to articulate what it feels like to be young and thinking too much.

Key lyric…If we can find a reason, a reason to change Looking for the answer If you can find a reason, a reason to stay Standing in the pouring rain

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvVJ0v6Vta8

Ribs – Lorde

The song… This is a deep house influenced electronica song that discusses Lorde’s stress over ageing. It was released on her debut album, Pure Heroine, in 2013. It begins ambiently and builds to become increasingly more frantic as the song progresses.

For me… Despite being released when I was a young teenager, this song was written when Lorde was sixteen or seventeen. It articulates exactly what it feels like to be that age, at that stage of life. I’m quite sure teenagers across the globe can relate to that. This song has been the soundtrack of my teenage years, the imagery is both relatable and accessible. Listening now, it gives me a sense of nostalgia, a yearning to be back where I was a year, or two or three years ago. Even now, it is the sound of being alone in a crowd. It is musically perfect, and a piece of exceptional songwriting.

Key lyric…This dream isn't feeling sweet We're reeling through the midnight streets And I've never felt more alone It feels so scary, getting old

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4qaeoz_7cyE

Sign of the Times – Harry Styles

The song… This is Harry Style’s debut single as a solo artist. It was released in early 2017 and appears on his self-titled debut album. It is a power ballad with eclectic influences from genres such as soft rock, indie rock, glam rock and psychedelic soul. It features Styles’ vocals alongside choral harmonies throughout. It is essentially about avoiding emotion during times of grief and hardship.

For me…This is the song of me leaving school (for the first time). Listening to it now coughs up all the feelings of relief, and yet uncertainty. Excitement, but also nerves. Summer 2017 was a turning point for me. I had had a terrible couple of years over my GCSEs, and overall, my second school was a far better place for me to be than my first one ever was. At the time though, I didn’t know this. Sure, how could I? This song helped me figure out my feelings, and make sense of feeling happy when I really didn’t know what I should have felt at all.

Key lyric…We don't talk enough, we should open up Before it's all too much Will we ever learn? We've been here before It's just what we know

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qN4ooNx77u0

Ride – Lana Del Rey

The song… This song comes from Lana Del Rey’s third EP, Paradise, released in 2012. It served as the first single of this re-release. It is a ballad that includes, among other themes, parental problems, loneliness and alcohol misuse. Del Rey sings over a string drenched, piano driven melody.

For me… This is the song of every summer. It has never been an exceptionally happy song for me, but it is the embodiment of what it is to feel young and alive, if a little bit tired. The glamour of it, alongside the acknowledgement that everything isn’t perfect, but that they will be okay if you just go with the flow, was exactly what I needed at the time it was released. The blissful uncertainty of the summers of being 14 and 15, partnered with the irrelevance of the future, is exactly what this song will always be about for me.

Key lyric… Been trying hard not to get into trouble But I, I've got a war in my mind I just ride, just ride

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Py_-3di1yx0

Don’t Delete the Kisses – Wolf Alice

The song… This is the second single from Wolf Alice’s second album, Visions of a Life. It is characterised as dream pop, synth pop, shoegaze and indie rock. Frontwoman Rowsell referred to it as “one of those, you know, ‘head out the window on a long drive’ kind of tunes.’

For me… If ‘ribs’ is the sound of being seventeen, then surely this is the sound of falling in love. This song is the ultimate love song. I am absolutely convinced of it. It is greater than any one person as it is simply the sound of the feeling. I am very lucky that I actually was falling in love for the first time at the time this was released. I will always be indebted to Ellie Rowsell for being there to tell me in plain English how I was feeling. This song has defined every ‘lovey dovey’ mood I have been in for the last two and a half years. I’m sure most people of my age feel the same. It was written for the era we are living in and it is perfectly suited to it.

Key lyric…I see the signs of a lifetime, you 'til I die

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WqxE-zppu30

Motion Sickness – Phoebe Bridgers

The song… This is the third single from Phoebe Bridger’s 2017 Debut album ‘Stranger in the Alps.’ It describes “being in love with someone who is super mean to you… like conflicted feelings.” Bridger’s stated to radio station KCRW that the song was written about fellow musician Ryan Adams.

For me… Admittedly, I discovered this song late in the decade. But it’s a song about feelings. Like, really hard feelings. This decade, and especially the latter half of it, threw up a lot of feelings, about a lot of things. I suppose this is fairly standard for most people approaching the end of their teenage years. It’s angsty, without being too bothered about anything. It’s raw and honest; articulating everything I’ve felt about everyone at one stage or another, and I’m equally, I’m sure it articulates enough people’s feelings about me.

Key lyric… You said when you met me you were bored And you, you were in a band when I was born

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9sfYpolGCu8

A & E – Brand New Friend

The song… This illustrates the rise and fall of a relationship, and in doing so highlights the more melancholic acoustic side of Northern Irish indie pop group Brand New Friend. It was initially released in 2016 as the closing song of their debut EP, American Wives, but was remastered and re-released on their 2017 album Seatbelts for Airplanes.

For me… This is the song of the medicine application. Bearing in mind I know this band, and know that there is a well-developed meaning to the song that has nothing to do with me, this is the song that I have listened to, and seen live, countless times from the day I decided I wanted to be a doctor to the day I got into medical school and beyond. It is a rare and beautiful connection to have to a song like this, and one for which I am forever going to be grateful. Now, I can’t hear the song live without bawling my wee eyes out. I have come so far, and the band have too, and the song has been with us every step of the way. That truly means the world to me.

Key lyric… She wants to be a paramedic / Wants to save a strangers life / Now she wants to hold my hand / Does she know she’s saving mine?

https://open.spotify.com/track/5RmOfF1s5zW2B942H9OGXT?si=hsauA8iXQN6mXQnL8s0fBw

Brazil – Declan McKenna

The song… McKenna initially self-released this song in December 2014. It is critical of FIFA, of their awarding of the 2014 World Cup to Brazil without addressing the deep rooted and extensive poverty affecting the Nations people. It gained widespread media attention throughout the FIFA corruption scandal, before featuring on his debut album, ‘What do you think about the Car?’ in July 2017. It is an indie rock song that is driven by guitars and synths.

For me… This song was the sound of 2016 and 2017. It was released a while before this but I was fairly late jumping on the bandwagon. It’s a political song, speaking of the injustices behind FIFA and their 2014 World Cup in Brazil. As an angry little leftist, I have always appreciated this. I can only appreciate it more knowing that Declan McKenna himself was only fourteen when he wrote it. For me the song has many happy memories attached to it, from the long summer walks from my house to the nearest village to see my friends who were working as sailing instructors, to attending a tiny gig of Declan McKenna’s in the Oh Yeah Centre in Belfast and being about 6 feet from his face while he was 6 feet from the cusp of fame.

Key lyric…Because you've had your chances, yeah you've had enough I'm gonna burn your house down to spread peace and love

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=duHjQ3BE6D8

Robbers – The 1975

The song… This is the sixth single from the 1975’s self-titled debut album. It was released as a single in May 2014. The song’s concept follows an ill-fated robbery, and was inspired in part by the 1993 film ‘True Romance.’ It is essentially about a relationship in which the partners are too focused on each other to notice the destruction they are each causing.

For me… This song is fairly definitive of my teenage years as a whole. The narrative of a toxic relationship that the writer could not, or would not leave, was one that I always managed to connect to, across all aspects of my life as a young teenager, encountering uncomfortable situations within school and with different people and groups of friends. Matty Healy was (and honestly still is) one of the biggest crushes I’ve ever had. I’ve now heard this song live three different times, at three completely different phases of my life. It is a song with so much meaning, and yet one that has grown and evolved with me throughout the decade.

Key lyric… Now everybody's dead And they're driving past my old school And he's got his gun, he's got his suit on She says, 'Babe, you look so cool'

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iyy3YOpxL2k

Get Well Soon – Ariana Grande

The song… This is the final song on Grande’s 2017 album ‘Sweetener,’ it is a soul ballad with layered vocals, and is inspired by Grande’s personal anxiety and trauma following the May 2017 terrorist attack following her concert in Manchester. In memory of the 22 victims of this attack, there is a 40 second moment of silence at the end of the song.

For me… I am, and have been, a very anxious person for a very long time. This is something I have never really hid away from, but also never felt up to talking openly about. This song manages to describe the feelings associated with anxiety in a way I have never heard any mainstream musician attempt before. Ariana’s concert which was attacked in May 2017, that which inspired this song, immediately followed her concert that my father and sister had attended, and so the whole song and sequence of events is and always has been very close to home for me.

Key lyric…I'm too much in my head, did you notice? (Girl, what’s wrong with you? Come back down)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXU4P6j3TNY

She’s Thunderstorms – Arctic Monkeys

The song… This is the first song from the fourth studio album by arctic monkeys; Suck it and See, released in 2011. It originated when Alex Turner was looking for a new way of complimenting someone. It begins with an Eastern inspired riff and is fairly heavily guitar led, characteristic of this period in the Arctic Monkey’s discography

For me… I’d be lying if I said this isn’t one of my favourite songs of all time. I chose it for this list because it is my favourite song by the arctic monkeys, who are my favourite band. Its subject, Alexa Chung, basically leads the life I wish I had. Even more so at the time this song was written than now. I remember being twelve or thirteen and just wanting someone to write something like this for me. The sheer detail of the lyrics is beautiful and so captivating, they played a huge part in helping me find my love for music in an accessible way. I loved, and still do love, the relationship they had. I feel like it translated so well into his music, and into the popular culture that shaped my teenage years exceptionally well.

Key lyric…Here is your host, sounds as if she's pretty close When the heat starts growing horns She's thunderstorms

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQSQnHh4rPE

#music #songs #arctic monkeys #ariana grande #the 1975 #lana del rey #phoebe bridgers #lorde #declan mckenna #brandnewfriend #cage the elephant #wolf alice #harry styles

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lost-your-memory · 4 years

Note

Hi! For the prompt thing, could you do "Zero fucks given. Next please", supercat? Thank you! Have a nice lockdown :)

Heeey thank you for the prompt and for the lovely words on the previous one! I hope this one will please you as well. After Bhutan, let’s travel to Washington D.C and have some classic Cat Grant, ‘cause we all miss her.I know I was supposed to keep it under the 2K words limit ... Well, this is 3K words but you know ... Oops? ---

Cat is barely ten minutes in when she loses her patience.

There are unorganized piles of documents threatening to spill over her desk, all the lights on her phone are blinking red with missed calls and voicemails and there’s not a single cup of coffee in sight.

“Oh for the love of …” Cat swears under her breath, already striding toward her desk.

The sound of her heels hitting the luxurious wooden floor is enough to induce the beginning of a migraine and, not for the first time, she misses the soft carpeted flooring of her carefully designed CatCo office. She drops her purse on the chair strategically placed in between two massive French doors and fishes out her phone and a glass case before moving to her desk. She turns her laptop on and takes one glance at the still blinking phone display before raising a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, to try to alleviate the ever growing pain.

She slowly sits in her plush, comfortable chair and takes a deep breath before opening her mouth.

“DYLAN!”

She stares at the door across the room, waiting for her exceptionally incompetent assistant to show up.

She’s seething, clearly not having expected that level of sheer laziness and utter amateurism from the cohort of assistants she’s already gone through since she got here.

She would have thought that her position at the White House, as Olivia’s right hand, meant that she would get the best of the best, la crème de la crème but sadly, she’s been stuck with wannabe politician who could barely handle the phone. It is telling that James Olsen, who once manhandled the phone for her, did better than any of the poor, useless souls that she’s been stuck with and at a time, he’d been an editor in chief and awarded photographer.

The door finally opened and young man with short blond hair and deep blue eyes popped his head through, looking downright terrified.

“You called, Miss Grant?”

Cat notices how the pale blue color of his shirt, perfectly ironed and stretched around his tanned neck, clashes with the crimson red tie. That fashion mistake should be motive enough to fire him, Cat briefly thinks. Only Supergirl was able to pull off that god-awful combination of childish colors.

“Come on in,” Cat gestures for her assistant to approach the desk.

The man pales, and he looks like he wants to be anywhere else in the world, but he eventually closes the door behind him and takes a few steps into the office. His real name isn’t Dylan and Cat knows it but so far, no one had been competent enough to earn the right to be called by their actual name.

“Have a look, Dylan,” Cat distinctly enunciate the wrong name, knowing he won’t say anything about it. She gestures for her desk and asks “What do you see?”

The wrongly named Dylan glances down at the desk and frowns, looking utterly confused. He’s almost shaking, Cat can tell from the way he’s tightly holding his hands together in front of the buttoned jacket of his suit.

“Uh, Miss Grant?” Dylan asks, obviously not understanding the question.

Cat lets out a deep and aggravated sigh. She brings her hand to hoover above the blinking phone display and waits but nothing happens. The look of utter confusion in the man’s eyes only deepens.

“For God’s sake!” Cat sharply stands up and places her palms flat on the surface of her desk, leaning forward to be able to stare right into the man’s eyes. “The phone is exploding with missed calls and voicemails, there are piles and piles of paper stacked on my desk and where the hell is my coffee?”

That seems to finally sparkle something in the man’s eyes, a gleam of recognition. He looks almost relieved and then words spill out of his mouth.

“Oh, if it’s a coffee you want I can …”

Cat pinches the bridge of her nose again, closes her eyes and takes another deep breath.

She raises her other hand to signal for Dylan to stop talking. Thankfully, he’s not that obtuse as to ignore that order, and so she takes a moment to count backward in her head. When she finally reaches zero, she opens her eyes and stares into the terrified blue eyes.

“Pack up your things, you’re fired.”

She slowly sits back in her chair and with a typical flicker of her wrists, she finishes dismissing the new former assistant.

---

“Cat, it’s the tenth assistant you’ve fired,” Olivia sighs, accepting the heavy glass of Scotch her friend is handing her. “You’re only six months in the job and my chief of staff is already threatening to quit.”

Cat chuckles and comes to sit in front of the president, in one of the luxurious and comfortable armchairs that match the couch on which Olivia is settled. She’s got her own glass in her hand, half-full of a honey-ish beverage that gently swirls with every move her wrist makes.

“That’s because Russell doesn’t like me, it has nothing to do with the level of turn-over in my team,” She sarcastically retorts.

“Probably, but you still fired Donovan, who also happens to be the nephew of a senator I was hoping to get endorsed by …” Olivia reproaches before taking a sip of her drink. She hums appreciatively. “Oh, that’s good Scotch.”

“Zero fucks given. Next, please!” Cat retorts with a shrug.

That gets a reproving look from the President of the United States.

“Come on, Olivia. You know I don’t like nepotism and beside, that boy was utterly and desperately useless. He once announced that the French president was on the line for me but when I picked up, I got to talk with the king of Belgium …”

Olivia now looks positively horrified. She shakes her head, lets out another sigh and then decides to chase it all with another sip of Scotch.

For a moment, they stay quiet and enjoy their drink, as well as the soft music that plays in the background, a piece of Vivaldi’s four seasons.

The many high windows along the wall let in the fading light of the late summer day.

The skyline view is far away from the one she had from her penthouse in National City but it’s still decent enough so she can watch as Washington bathes in the golden halo of the late afternoon. On the other side of the sky, it’s already dark enough for a few stars to start twinkling.

“You know you won’t ever find someone as good as her, right?”

Olivia’s words are soft and gentle and when Cat tears her eyes away from the view, she falls into a pair of knowing brown eyes. She hates that her friend can read her so easily, but she doesn’t deny that she’s got a point.

“Oh, I know,” Cat whispers, trying not to be overloaded with memories of Kara. “I’m not trying to.”

“Aren’t you?” Olivia counters, leaning forward to place her glass on the coffee table in front of her.

“I’m not, I promise,” Cat nods, bringing her own drink to her lips and savoring a few sips before adding. “I have impossibly high standards but even I know that finding another Supergirl to be my assistant won’t be possible.”

An amused smiles graces Olivia’s lips at that, and she lets herself fall back against the cushions.

“Ah, so the cat’s out of the bag, so to speak …” Olivia muses, extending her arms on either side of her, along the slope of the couch. “I was wondering …”

Cat scrunches her nose and glares at her friend.

“You know I have cat puns,” Cat grits out, slightly annoyed that the President of the United States would even make one in the first place. “And yes, of course I knew. I’ve known since the very beginning but I figured that one day, she’d tell me herself ... "

“Careful, Cat, you sound bitter,” Olivia arches a brow, her smile still firmly in place.

“That’s because I am. I branded her, you know …” Cat retorts, standing up from her armchair and going to her liquor cabinet to pour herself another glass. “I helped Supergirl be the hero she is today, by giving her a name, a platform and a reputation, by protecting her identity … and she never told me who she really is.”

“That may be so, but she doesn’t owe you anything,” Olivia gently replies and when Cat rises the decanter in her direction, she simply shakes her head no. “Beside … you probably left before she got a chance to tell you.”

Cat replaces the alcohol atop her liquor cabinet and comes back to her previous spot to face her friend.

“I didn’t leave because of her,” Cat states, making the Scotch swirls at the bottom of her heavy crystal glass.

“No?” Olivia throws her a knowing look. “You could have fooled me …”

Cat grits her teeth and looks away to the falling night. More stars are now blinking in the sky, neighboring a shy crescent of moon while Washington slowly blurs into an indistinct shadow.

“You should call her, you know,” Olivia offers, checking the phone she just pulled out of her pocket. Whatever she sees on it has her frown.

“Everything alright?” Cat asks, purposely ignoring her friend’s advice.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Olivia replies, already putting her phone back. “Also, nice try but I know you heard me. You might think you’re not looking for someone like her but I know you, Cat. I’ve known you for a long time and despite the fact we didn’t talk for many years, I can still read you pretty well.”

Olivia stands up and grabs her glass, finishing it bottoms up. She then moves to retrieve her jacket, pulling it on and adjusting it before turning back to face Cat.

“Call her, Cat,” Olivia says, flattening the lapels of her jacket. “Do something, otherwise you’ll live with “what if” and “maybe” and I remember how you hate it. Be a big girl and follow your own advice : in order to survive, we must keep daring …”

“Diving,” Cat corrects, despite the fact she did use the word daring as well.

“I mean, that too but what you do in bed is your business,” Olivia smirks and Cat gasps before laughing out loud.

She didn’t see this coming but then again, Olivia Marsden had always been full of surprises, from the pot brownies she used to cook in college to the fact she was an alien.

“Seriously though, give it a try. What’s the worst that can happen?” Olivia asks, the malicious gleam in her eyes having been replaced with something far more serious.

Cat doesn’t answer the question and Olivia seems to know that this time, she shouldn’t insist.

“Anyway, I have to go Cat,” Olivia says, already walking toward the entrance door. Cat stands up and follows after her friend to make sure the bodyguards at her door will safely take her back to the car.

“I will see you tomorrow at the office, probably first thing in the morning since Russell asked for a meeting about you going through so many assistants in so little time …”

“Eh, let him barks, it’ll keep him busy while I find someone myself,” Cat chuckles, moving to drop a kiss on her friend’s cheek.

“Call her,” Olivia says again before exiting the loft, the door closing behind her after those last words.

---

“I hear you’re having trouble finding a decent assistant these days …”

Cat smiles around the rim of her glass and looks up to the night sky.

Supergirl’s floating a few inches up, her cape fluttering softly in the quietness of the night and her golden hair flowing freely around her delicate and otherworldly features. The moon at her back gives her silhouette a pale, silver glow that truly makes her look like a goddess from another universe, a mythical creature.

“Good evening, Supergirl,” Cat greets her, raising her glass in a mock-toast. “Care to explain why you conveniently show up on my balcony minutes after I sent a text to my former assistant?”

Supergirl floats down a few inches, half of her body disappearing behind the ledge of Cat’s balcony until their eyes are approximately at the same level. The light that spills out from Cat’s bedroom enlights Kara’s small smile and makes her eyes shine ever so dimly.

“I could spring some lie on you, say that Kara told me that you texted and that it made me want to check on you myself but what would be the point?” Kara asks, her voice soft and quiet but still clear, carrying into the night. “We both know you were never fooled, not even that time you saw Supergirl and Kara Danvers at the same time in your office.”

“To be fair, I never truly understood how you managed such an exploit,” Cat nods and takes another sip of her drink. “Anyway, no you never fooled me. How could you, with the way you were always darting out of the room with the flimsiest excuse, every of those times coincidentally happening whenever Supergirl’s presence was required? It’s like you forgot that I am a journalist, before and above anything else.”

For a moment, Supergirl looks almost outraged, but then she laughs and the sound echoes into the night like a sweet melody.

“That’s fair, I was never good at lying, despite the whole other identity situation …”

“Would you tell me?” Cat asks, searching into Kara’s eyes. “You real identity, I mean …”

Kara looks a little hesitant for a few seconds but then, she flies up and closer.

Her boots softly land on the balcony floor, and she stands up in front of Cat, a hand resting on the symbol on her chest.

“My name is Kara Zor-El,” Kara says, reverence lining her voice.

Cat notices the way Supergirl stands, tall and proud, with her chin up and steel in her jaw. She’s royalty, framed by the stars twinkling behind her golden mane and the moon hanging high above her head.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to finally tell you, but I wanted to protect you, back then.”

Cat doesn’t say anything.

She’s been abducted by the Silver Banshee and Leslie Willis once, so she knows the risk of being tied to Supergirl. She can understand why Kara never told her about her alter-ego. It still stings a little but she understands anyway.

“Why now?” Cat eventually asks, looking up to meet Kara’s eyes.

Kara seems to hesitate for a moment, suddenly looking thoughtful and distant at once.

“Someone very dear to me once told me to put on my big-girl pants and to own up to my power …” Kara eventually whispers. “I think it’s time I finally followed that advice but that’s not all. See … my sister also got good advice from someone dear to her. Someone who told her that life is short, and she should kiss the people she wants to kiss.”

Cat’s heart misses a beat when Kara takes a step forward. The smell of wind and flowers overload her senses, and she almost forgets to breathe, drowning in Kara’s presence.

“That’s … good advice indeed,” Cat whispers, getting lost in the baby blue of Kara’s eyes.

“I thought so,” Kara smiles and then adds “I really, really, really want to kiss you now, Miss Grant.”

Cat can feel her heart go wild in her chest, beating frantically against her rib cage, drumming in her ears and pulsing in her temples. She’s been hoping for this moment for so long she can’t wrap her head around the fact it’s about to happen.

“Then … what are you waiting for, Kara?” Cat whispers, slowly enunciating the right name.

It’s all it takes.

The kiss is mind-blowing, full of all the pent-up frustration they’ve been suffering through for years. It’s deep and a little blunt, with Kara’s playful tongue exploring the inside of Cat’s mouth and hands roaming along the flexed muscles stretched underneath the superhero suit. It lasts and lasts and at some point, Cat eventually feels the need to come back up for some air.

She pulls away, one hand tangled in Kara’s hair and the other clutched around the rim of Kara’s cape. Their breath come out ragged and irregular but Kara’s smile is blinding, full of joy and hope.

“Damn,” Cat whispers, a little dazzled.

“Speechless is a good look on you, Miss Grant,” Kara teases, dropping a kiss at the corner of Cat’s lips.

“Cat. Please, call me Cat,” Cat says, looking up into Kara’s eyes. “Beside, don’t get too smug, it will take a lot more than just a kiss to render me unable to speak.”

“Is that a challenge, Cat?” Kara asks, tilting her head to the side as interest sparkles in her eyes. The way she pronounces Cat’s name sounds like a secret and a promise at once, it makes Cat tingle.

“Only one way to find out,” Cat offers, stepping backward to her bedroom.

She lets a hand slide along Kara’s arm, until it reaches her hand. Their fingers instinctively intertwine and Kara instantly follows, her smile full of wonder and her eyes as bright as the thousand stars shining in the sky behind her.

#Sentences prompt #Supercat #Kara x Cat #My writing #Five words prompt #Supercat fic #Cat just have high standards only Kara can meet okay #I don't make the rules #Olivia is the MVP #I just love Olivia and Cat's friendship

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rhetoricalrogue · 4 years

Text

Wayhaven Week, Day 2

For the @otomefandomevents Wayhaven Week 2020.

Prompt: Tender Pairing: Mason/Zoe Dawson Warnings: Mild PG-13 type swearing. This is Zoe I’m talking about. Possible spoilers for Book 2′s carnival mission. Word Count: 1,650 Summary: Sudden motherly interruptions put a halt to a somewhat enjoyable evening.

“Does it bother you?”

Zoe frowned as they walked, slowing down as they passed several groups of people. “What? The lights and the noise? I mean, a little, but that’s mostly because carnivals aren’t really my thing. Too many people around and too many opportunities to steal your things right out of your pockets.” She gave him a sideways glance. They’d been at the fairgrounds for over thirty minutes and she was ready to leave. “I’m more worried about you. We’ve been walking around for a while, you want to wander somewhere quieter?”

Mason shrugged. It was true that the saccharinely sweet smell of cotton candy mixed with the repetitive calliope sound being loudly broadcast over a speaker he couldn’t pinpoint was giving him a pounding headache, but time taken to get a breather away from the noise and grating smells that at times felt like nails raking over chalkboards only meant that they had to remain in them longer than he would like. “It’s fine.” He paused, eyes scanning the crowd ahead of them. “No, I meant the whispers. People noticing you’re with me.”

“Ah.” She stuck her hands into her jacket pockets and shrugged. “Not really?”

He rolled his eyes. “You sound so sure.”

“I mean we’re supposed to be here on a date, so no, I don’t mind. People are probably more shocked to see me out with someone since I haven’t done the whole relationship scene in a while, plus this is a small town; there’s bound to be talk.”

Mason mirrored her body language. “That’s a damn shame.”

“Shame that I’m single, or shame that the good men of Wayhaven haven’t gotten to have the full Zoe Dawson experience?”

He snorted. “Good to see that you don’t have a fragile ego.”

They continued to walk, Zoe snagging a hot pretzel from a vendor partly as a way to blend in and partly because she was starving after not having anything to eat since lunch. She offered a bite to Mason, who shook his head. “So…”

He tapped out a cigarette, looked at the large group of children nearby, and put it back into the pack. “What?”

She looked at a bunch of mothers she recognized from doing school safety programs standing near the child-sized rides and waving to their kids as they passed them. As soon as they saw her looking in their direction, they gave nervous smiles and turned away, but not before doing a second glance in Mason’s direction. Zoe assumed they were feeling guilty about being busted for staring. “Your hearing is a lot better than mine. What’s the mood?”

“Happy go-lucky? I’m going out on a limb and guessing it’s normal for carnivals.” He absently rubbed at his forehead and while he didn’t say that the lights from the row of carnival games were bothering him, Zoe noticed him squinting and steered them down a less brightly lit avenue behind a few tents where they could still see what was going on around them.

“I was talking about, well, the scoop about us.” She gestured back towards the group of moms they had passed by. “You think we’ll win any popular couple awards by the end of the night?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you were the type to give a damn what anyone thought.”

“I don’t. It’s just idle curiosity, that’s all.”

“Ah.” He smirked and stepped closer to her. “You know what they say about curiosity and cats, Detective.”

She grinned and closed the gap between them. “That satisfaction brought them back?”

“So, you’re thinking about me satisfying you?” He gave her a toothy smirk when she looped her arms over his shoulders to bring him closer, her breasts pressed against his chest tightly enough that he could all but feel her heartbeat against his own ribcage.

She shivered as his hand palmed her hip, his warmth sinking through to her skin. “The question should be, could you?”

“Oh Sweetheart.” Mason ran the side of his nose against hers before moving to nip his teeth at her jawline. “You have no idea how -”

The crackle of the radio in both their earpieces made them jump apart. “If the two of you are done,” Rebecca stated, her voice stern. “There is a mission to get back to.”

Mason winked as Zoe scowled. “Yes ma’am,” he said, clicking on the radio at his collar. “We were just discussing…”

“That was a discussion?” Felix snickered. “It looked more like you were…”

“Deciding to head out to the fortune teller tent,” Zoe interrupted. “Which we were just leaving to go do!” Without thinking, she grabbed Mason’s hand and started walking away from behind the tents and back into the fairground proper.

“Hey, why the rush?” Mason tugged on her hand and deliberately slowed down the pace Zoe had set as they all but stalked through the crowds, pulling her back towards him. There was a flush high on her cheeks and one look told him that she hadn’t been embarrassed about being caught flirting.

She was angry. Mason didn’t need three guesses to know that it was because she couldn’t stand her mother telling her what to do.

“We’re here for a reason,” she replied, her tone clipped and posture rigid, almost as if she had slammed the relaxed, flirty side of her behind a thick barrier. “So let’s get on with it.”

Well. There went all the fun for the evening. “We’re heading that way, why rush?” He squeezed her hand and smirked at her. “Keep running around like that and people are going to think you’re not having a good time on this date.”

She sneered. “I thought you didn’t do dates, Mason.” With that, she let go of his hand and continued to stalk away.

His temper almost let her, but then he saw how she curled into herself, her hands gripping her elbows so tightly that her fingernails bit into the fabric of her jacket. Push people away hard and fast enough and they won’t be able to hurt you, he mused. I got your signal, Zo. “Maybe I don’t,” he said, his long legs closing the distance between them before they got back to the louder part of the fairgrounds. “Doesn’t mean that maybe I might want to try it once, though.”

Zoe snorted. “To see how the other half lives?”

“Something like that.”

She slowed down and sighed. Her shoulders were still tense when she brought a hand up to press her fingers against the bridge of her nose, but Mason could feel the anger and aggravation slowly drain away from her. “I’m sorry. You're not the one I’m angry with, I was wrong to take it out on you.” She reached out and took hold of his hand, almost as if it were an extension to her apology. “It’s not your fault that she brings out the worst in me.”

He twined his fingers with hers. “Yeah, I can tell.” He gave her fingers a little supportive squeeze, much like she had when they first arrived. “Come on, the sooner we do this, the sooner we can get the hell out of here.”

Zoe laughed and squeezed his fingers back. She leaned against his arm as they walked, the fortune teller’s tent coming into view. “For the record, I really was looking forward to spending more time with you.”

He leered. “Looking to get me alone, Sweetheart?” He let go of her hand to drape his arm around her shoulder, tugging to bring her flush against the side of his body.

She rolled her eyes, but wrapped her arm around his waist to stay where she was. “Always, Sunshine.” She looked like she wanted to say something more, but decided against it in favor of tugging on the collar of his jacket and bringing him close enough to press a kiss against his cheek, her lips grazing the corner of his mouth.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

She reached up to wipe a smudge of dark red lipstick away from his cheek before resting her head against his shoulder. “For putting up with me when I’m being a moody asshole.”

“Oh? And what else could I get for sticking around?” She couldn’t see his smirk, but she could all but hear it.

“I guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.” Giving him one last squeeze, she moved away and walked up to the tent. “Just so you know, I do more than kiss at the end of a first date if I like the guy I’m with.”

Zoe put a little saunter in her step as she walked towards the tent, smiling as the dark chuckle at her back almost seemed to wrap around her like an embrace. “I guess I better make sure you like me, then,” he told her, stopping next to her to read the placard near the entrance of the tent.

She set one of the nearby flowers into the designated bucket and they both watched as if by magic, the ties holding the tent flaps closed fell away. “Age before beauty.”

“You just want to check out my ass.”

“Every job has its perks.”

Mason grinned as he stepped inside the tent, his eyes scanning the interior. Even though he was supposed to be focused on the mission they were assigned to, he couldn’t help but let his focus stray back to Zoe as she moved behind him.

She caught his eye as she stood beside him and the small yet open smile she threw his way made something flip in his chest. I do more than kiss on a first date.

Mason stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and smirked, suddenly having all the motivation he needed to make sure this date, however fake it was, went off without a hitch.

#wayhaven week 2020 #the wayhaven chronicles #twc detective #f!detective/mason #zoe dawson #agent mason #my writing

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etlunainmorte · 4 years

Text

"Trust me, V."

"(Y/N),... I should not have dragged the both of us in this hopeless situation. Forgive me,... "

"You came. That's all that matters."

"It's true what they say: when there's a will, there's a way."

"You said, please, say yes. And I said, yes! I'm going to the New Year's Ball with you, V!"

"Parting is such sweet sorrow,... that I shall say good night 'till it be morrow. Let us meet,... in the land of dreams. In a beautiful garden,... somewhere only we know. See you soon, my love."

"Stay with me, please. Until I fall asleep."

"Seeing you happy,... is the only single thing in this world that keeps me going. So, please, smile,... and be happy. Don't ever blame yourself for what happened in the past. It was never your fault. Live for the people you love. Smile,... for there are people who truly loves you. And they would never leave you, no matter what. Don't forget about that."

"I do,... take Lord Victor Blake as my husband. I promise to love and cherish him above all else. I will take care of him and support him. Through thick and thin, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health. If your soul shall seek mine after death, then I shall wait for you in the next lifetime. Then, the next. I will wait for you, for as long as it takes. J - just,... don't forget about me, alright?"

"I do,... take Lady (Y/N) (L/N) as my wife. This fool will love and cherish her above all else in the world. I promise to care for her, to support her through thick and through thin. If falling for you is a sin, then I refuse to repent. Like a river that flows to the sea, or a fool rushing in, I have fallen deeply in love with you. I cannot help myself from falling in love with you, my dear darling (Y/N). I will stay with you, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. And I shall never stop from loving you, even after my death. My soul shall seek yours, and we will be together again,... in our next lifetime. And the next. I will always love you, my dear, beloved (Y/N). Until the end of time."

...

I will,... fulfill your three wishes,...

... no matter what it takes.

I will make you,... the happiest woman on earth.

Love me tender, love me sweet.

Never let me go.

You have made my life complete.

And I love you so.

Love me tender, love me true.

All my dreams fulfill.

For my darling I love you,

And I always will.

Love me tender, love me long.

Take me to your heart.

For it's there that I belong.

And will never part.

Love me tender, love me true.

All my dreams fulfill.

For my darling I love you,

And I always will.

Love me tender, love me dear.

Tell me you are mine.

I'll be yours through all the years,

'Til the end of time.

Love me tender, love me true.

All my dreams fulfill.

For my darling I love you,

And I always will.

***

🌸 Three Wishes 🌸

***

For my darling, I love you,

And I always will.

You smiled as Fleminger's performance came to an end. He knew the man possessed such a wonderful singing voice? Not to mention a deep fondness for all things Elvis Presley?

"That's such a beautiful song." You told V as you leaned on the railing of the Grecian balcony just outside the mansion where he led you.

"I never expected Elvis Presley to be," V answered in a low and soft voice as he joined you. " ... such a poet. Those words are,... truly heart - warming." And it was true. He has been listening to that song on loop the moment Nico introduced the King of Rock and Roll's more mellow songs to him.

You hummed in agreement, trying to ignore Salvador as you heard him calling his boss for the third time. "I wonder where Lancaster went?" You finally asked as your eyebrows furrowed in disgust after mentioning your former lover's name.

"Who knows,..." V answered, not wanting to divulge the fact that he felt the presence of Vergil's Yamato a while ago. Where on earth did Vergil bring that doctor, anyway?

"V?" You piped in a few moments later when the sound of applause and cheers from inside the mansion died.

"Hmm?"

All of a sudden, you were at a loss for words. There was something truly deep and mysterious within those hypnotic green eyes of his. More than ever before. You felt it when he looked at you and invited you outside a while ago, and partly because of that ( and your almost unhealthy addiction to romance novels and chick flicks ), you somehow knew what would happen next. You just didn't have the strength to confirm or admit it. It's not that you're worried about it, no.

It was more like,...

... you felt that this was a truly wonderful dream that would vanish as soon as you stirred in your sleep.

And you didn't want this dream to end.

"Thank you." So, you told him instead. "For inviting me here." Looking up at him, you smiled and squeezed his arm next to yours. "Thank you so much."

"Anything for you, my dear." V answered as he heard Fleminger speaking once again.

" ... the runner - up for the King and Queen of the Ball goes to,... Dante and Trish! Congratulations! If you two may, please, step forward. Thank you!"

"Wow. That's Michael Jackson for you, I guess." You said as you listened to the wild cheers and hoots. "And now, Lady will receive her Queen award - "

"(Y/N)?"

You looked up once more at the man, surprised when he suddenly interrupted you. "Yes, V?"

"I know this is awfully late but," He began, and took out a pastel - colored notebook from his breast pocket. The thing that Nico handed him. " ... this is your Christmas present. Well, Nico was the one who thought of it first. Then, the others helped. All of us collaborated."

"Aww! How sweet of you! Thank you so much, V!" You exclaimed as you received the notebook from him. Excited to see what's inside, you began to turn the pages but, then, you remembered. "Wait. I don't have a Christmas present for you! Oh, my God! I forgot! I'm so sorry, V - !"

"It doesn't matter, dear." V answered, smiling at you. He, then, nodded at the notebook in your hands. "Please. I would like you to see it."

You nodded, once again ignoring all the noise inside the mansion, which was honestly a bit different from before. Not cheers, nor applause but, something really weird. Were they,... objections of some sort? You opened the notebook, and saw,... something that made you smile silly! It was - !

"Hey! This is," You looked up at V as you pointed at the photograph. So, it is a scrapbook, after all! " ... this is our Halloween event!"

"Yes." V answered with a smile and a slight wince, reeling at the thought of him dressing up as a mystical blue Genie for Halloween. The body paint! The steel pot!

Stand in a steel pot, she said, V thought ruthlessly. It will be fun, she said,...

"Everyone is here! Dante and his weird costume. Nero, Kyrie. Wait, Kyrie was dressed as a Witch? I thought she was the Girl from Ring. Oh, and Avery and Roman as Morticia and Gomez!" You turned to the next page, saw the next picture, and laughed even more as you helplessly shook your head. "This is when we watched Star Wars! Was Nico spying on us?"

"I couldn't deny that, unfortunately." And V was saying the truth. Nico and his familiars did follow them all day in the shopping district, despite his strict instruction to leave you and him alone. And they managed to produce tons upon tons of stolen shots of you and him.

"This is crazy! Oh, and these are during the Christmas party for the children! The kids enjoyed seeing Griffon as Grandma so much. Oh! And they love your violin - playing, too, V."

"Thank you."

"These are such wonderful pictures!" You complimented as you looked at the photos one by one, vastly enjoying them. But, when you reached the next page and saw the next photograph, your heart seemed to stop beating.

And V? He felt his breathing hitch. It's as if he was forced to stand at the edge of a cliff with someone pointing a gun at his back.

And at the same time, Fleminger spoke once more.

"And to start our last dance for this evening to be led by our King and Queen runner - up, may we call on our special guests for tonight? Let us give a warm round of applause to Ms. Jam And The War Veterans!"

"V," You whispered, confusion getting the better of you as you stared at the strange vintage photograph of yourself dressed in an exquisite gown as you stood at the top of an awfully familiar - looking staircase. " ... I,... don't understand,... "

"Please," V pleaded as he laid his hands on yours, urging you to keep looking. " ... see the photographs."

Trusting V's words, you continued browsing, and as the music started, you felt your consciousness leave your body.

The way you're dressed in these photographs. The setting. Everything.

It's as if,...

... somehow,...

... you've gone back in time.

Never thought that you would be,

Standing here so close to me.

There's so much I feel that I should say.

But words can wait until some other day.

Unable to form an appropriate response to the photographs, you went on browsing, until you found an old letter attached to the next page of the scrapbook. Gently grazing the old stationary with your fingers as if it was a really fragile thing in danger of crumbling, you read the letter.

"Love and harmony combine,

And round our souls entwine

While thy branches mix with mine,

And our roots together join."

But, it was Sir William Blake who said it, and not me.

For, if I' am given the chance to send you a different poem that I have written myself, I would give you none.

My dearest, how could a foolish man such as myself form oh so eloquent words to write poetry if he is in awe of the beauty right before his very own eyes?

And because of that, let this foolish man send you these heartfelt words, instead:

Good night, my Little Wanderer.

My Evening Star.

My Beloved Muse.

My Little, Innocent One.

My Little Lamb.

~ Yours truly, Victor Blake.

"Victor,..." You muttered, looking at the familiar swirl of the letter - sender's handwriting. Then, turning to the next page, you saw,...

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice,

Then kiss me once again.

It's been a long, long time.

Haven't felt like this, my dear,

Since I can't remember when.

It's been a long, long time.

You'll never know how many dreams

I've dreamed about you.

Or just how empty they all seemed without you.

So kiss me once, then kiss me twice,

Then kiss me once again.

It's been a long, long time.

"V is this,...?" You muttered as you saw photos of you together with V but in the same vintage setting.

And in those old photos, you two were always together. Laughing, reading, playing music, walking hand in hand.

You two,... were always together.

"Are we,...?" Your mouth forming incoherent words due to utter disbelief, you turned to the page to see the very last photo. Of you and V surrounded by a group of friends throwing flower petals at you. All of you looked so happy and cheerful, and it looked as though you two were just married.

And those clothes you were wearing,...

... they were the same, exact ones that you and V were wearing this exact moment!

They were,...

... vintage wedding clothes!

And you chose to wear it because you felt something really strong and emotional and sentimental about it! No wonder Avery was so surprised about it!

You and V,...

... were your great grandmother and this Victor Blake's future lives!

"You know, V spent a lot of time in this room last October." Is what Avery told you before when she showed you your great grandmother's bedroom.

Did V,...

Did V know all about this?!

"(Y/N), I know it's confusing but - " V began, very nervous because of the revelation.

"We have always been together, you and I." You told him. Looking up at him as you inched closer towards him, you went on. "No wonder I feel this way about us! The answer is right here! V, you and I were together!"

"I,..." V stuttered, then gulped. He couldn't possibly predict what your reaction would be about this whole plan ( since his mother's necklace was stolen, he had to think of another thing to give you, and that's when Nico suggested this ). At first, he thought you would consider this as a well - collaborated practical joke ( he did hesitate a lot about this, but decided to just go with it as he had no other last - minute option left ), knowing that things such as photographs could be altered nowadays in a way to make them look old. He never expected you to be this,... accepting. "Well, you see, it's a very long story,... of what happened last October. These,... chain of events,... that led me to you. But, it can wait. I will tell you everything. I promise." He took your hands, which still held the scrapbook, and raised them to his lips. Giving them a kiss, he finally uttered the words you never realized you have been waiting for. Until now. "I would adore to hold you in my arms for the rest of my existence. However, I cannot force you to choose. I will never do it."

"But, what if I want to choose?" You asked V with a knowing smile, giving him the one huge hint he never knew he desperately needed. Until now. "What would you tell me?"

And the poet took this hint as a massive opportunity. Oh, yes, indeed!

"(Y/N) (L/N), would you stay by my side,... one more time?"

A smile creeping up on the corners of your lips as overwhelming feelings of joy flooded your chest, you shook your head, and declared, with all your loving heart and longing soul, "Not one more time. I say, yes, now, tomorrow, always, and forever!"

"I adore you, my lady." V whispered as one of his arms went around you and pulled you close to him. "I love you so much, (Y/N)!"

"I love you, too, V." You answered, and oh, how good it felt to finally say it!

You briefly saw the twinkle in V's eyes before being pulled closer to him. And as your eyes closed the moment you felt his warm breath brush against your face, you couldn't help but let out a little sound of shameful excitement.

Hey, no one could blame you. Not now when his lips began moving rhythmically with yours. Not now when his hands travelled up and down your back in that very delicious caress. Not now when he seemed to pull you closer to his body, not having enough of this long - desired contact.

And definitely not now when he whispered over and over again how much he loved you and how much he wanted to be with you as he showered you with his love.

All of these wonderful things, this very unpredictable and yet romantic evening, this memorable moment shared between the two of you,...

... you will cherish this for as long as you lived.

Ah, yes! At long last! Finally!

And V? He actually never noticed it, nor the awesome display of fireworks in the clear night sky as Fleminger's party drew to a close, and the sound of the Carillion church bells nearby, signaling the very first hour of the year, but he finally fulfilled your very last wish.

Vitale Sparda has fulfilled all of your three wishes, and he could never explain the feeling of warmth that overwhelmed his heart as you two shared this loving moment, this very passionate kiss.

And he will cherish this moment with you forever.

Love me tender, love me sweet.

Never let me go.

You have made my life complete.

And I love you so.

Love me tender, love me true.

All my dreams fulfill.

For my darling I love you,

And I always will.

Love me tender, love me long.

Take me to your heart.

For it's there that I belong.

And will never part.

Love me tender, love me true.

All my dreams fulfill.

For my darling I love you,

And I always will.

Love me tender, love me dear.

Tell me you are mine.

I'll be yours through all the years,

'Til the end of time.

Love me tender, love me true.

All my dreams fulfill.

For my darling I love you,

And I always will.

***

🌸 I hope you enjoyed listening to my singing voice, winkwink! 🌸

🌸 @la-vita , @dreaming-gamer , @birdgirl69 , and @v-vic . 🌸

***

"How long have you been staring at those two?"

Fleminger turned just in time to see Adelaide walking towards him, her hands on her hips and her eyebrow raised. And this made the man smile, as he couldn't contain the happiness in his heart upon seeing her.

"Well?" Adelaide asked, stopping just three feet away from him and crossing her arms.

"Why do I suddenly feel like I'm being scolded by my prom date for leaving her?"

"Don't you dare dodge my question, Flanagan Allen!" Adelaide barked, and all of a sudden, Fleminger saw that young woman again.

That young woman,...

... who was his sole purpose for living.

"Is it wrong to take pride in one's,... accomplishments?" Fleminger asked her as he nodded at something outside the mansion.

Realizing that Fleminger was observing V and her grandchild happily watching the fireworks display from the Grecian balcony, Adelaide was beyond furious. Slapping the man's arm as hard as she could, she said, "How dare you, Flanagan Allen!"

"Don't you want those two lovebirds to be happy?" Fleminger questioned, offended and hurt as he rubbed his arm.

"Well, I want them to be happy, of course! But, I don't want you to intervene! You may think you are the greatest match - maker in the world, but those two got together on their own effort! You are just the one who put them in vintage fashion and placed them on the dancefloor like puppets in a circus show! You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"

"My, my, you're on fire,..."

"I'm always on fire."

"That's why I fell in love with you."

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" Fleminger received another slap in his arm as Adelaide let out a very crisp curse. "I thought you're married to Reginald!"

"And I thought you swore to never see me again,..."

"Seriously, Flanagan?! Until now, you're being like this?!"

"Like what?"

"Annoying! And irritating! And pompous!"

"And still in love with me?" Fleminger added with an apologetic smile that caught Adelaide off guard. "Aha! So,... I'm right!"

"Shut up. I don't intend on going back with you." Adelaide shook her head, turning away from him, still defiant.

Exactly like the Adelaide he fell in love with.

"Is that the news that got to you after all? That I married Reginald?" Fleminger asked her carefully, not wanting to waste this once in a lifetime opportunity. "I have waited five long decades for you to speak with me again. But you didn't answer all the letters I sent you."

Reaching out a hand, the man gently made the woman turn around to face him, and the moment she did, he felt as if they're back during that time as their younger selves. During that time before those decades worth of blunders occurred between the two of them. And now that she's here, all he intended to do was to fix the problem once and for all.

"Listen to me very, very carefully." Fleminger told her. "Reginald and I were never married, nor were we in any form of relationship. I told you that lie that we were together because your father wanted me to leave you."

"And you're saying this to me now?" Adelaide hissed, becoming overwhelmed with that familiar feeling of sadness once again. "Do you honestly believe that I would - ?"

"He told me that I' am too poor to be with someone like you. That I cannot afford the life you deserved. So, I had to lie and make you believe that I cheated on you. I had to make you leave me. For your own sake."

"Why didn't you tell me the truth?"

"Because I'm a coward. I could never face your family after all that. I had to think of a way to get you back. To get us back. I studied hard, I graduated with honors, I worked even harder. I achieved the,... ideal man,... that your father wanted for you to be with. And by the time I went back, I found out that you have already moved on. Got married to a mere accountant and had children. Living a content life under a small roof. You got married to a man who was supposedly lower than what I' am now. Inferior."

"Stop,... talking about my husband,..." Adelaide, being a very soft and emotional woman deep down, felt her tears already pouring from her tired eyes.

"But, I never held a grudge against you. You're understandably hurt, and you wanted to move on."

"What did you do,... when you found out?"

To this, Fleminger only smiled weakly. "I lived,... a very wasteful life. It took me many years to get back up again when I know I actually couldn't. Not without professional help, mind you. But, all it took was one tiny idea that got me springing back up to life once more, as hideous as it sounds. And this tiny,... idea,... has sprouted well,... like a majestic oak tree.

"For thirty years, I've been arranging these,... grand parties,... trying to get two strangers to be together each year. Or, at least I thought I have the power to do something for others which I couldn't do for the both of us when we were young."

"The King and Queen." Adelaide added.

Ah, so the rumors are true! Of a man who arranged parties just to get two people together because he couldn’t be with the love of his life, himself!

Oh, how tragic,…

"Yes. And no one deserved the title of King and Queen for this evening except for those two." Fleminger said, gesturing once more at the happy couple on the balcony. "Unfortunately, I have to disqualify the both of them for,... inappropriate behavior."

"Is that the reason why you left the titles empty?" Adelaide asked, her voice no longer laced with anger and hurt, but of pity and understanding. Pity that she and the man she once loved wasted five decades of precious life all because of an awful misunderstanding, and understanding because it felt like they were finally set free due to poor Flanagan's confession and honesty.

Ah! Such fools we both were,...

"That is the reason." Fleminger sighed. "But, I must say. You have taught her the ways of the Jive well."

"How did you know I taught her?"

"You have always been a great dancer. Besides, knowing you, I,... could somehow feel that you would rise to my challenge and show up to one of my New Year parties. With your well thought - out vengeance, that is." With a huge grin on his face, he added, "And you did."

"Huh." Adelaide crossed her arms once more. "Funny you should arrange your first ever grand New Year's Ball a year after my husband died."

"Funny you should ignore all of my invitations until now."

Flanagan and Adelaide looked at each other, and during this small moment of understanding, something clicked inside each other's heads. Like the sensation of putting the very last piece in a puzzle that has been left unsolved for many decades.

And then, they both smiled. The kind of smile they didn't have for so many years.

And it honestly felt good.

"Oh, I don't know!" Adelaide exclaimed as she stretched her limbs like she was a teenager once more. "You don't seem spry now like how you used to. And you don't look like you could pull off a kick or two."

"Oh, I'm very curious to find out, myself." Flanagan replied as he stretched his back, ashamed to see his stomach bulging because of it. Then, offering a hand to Adelaide, he asked, "May I have the honor of this Jive, my lady?"

"Certainly." Adelaide answered with a mischievous wink and a devilish smirk as she took Flanagan's hand, having the full intention of making the man suffer not only with Jive but through at least five more types of ballroom dances.

***

🌸🌸🌸

***

#vitale sparda #devil may cry 5 #three wishes #v x reader #v x you #chapter 15 #love me tender

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tillidontneedfantasy · 5 years

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‘Romance’ - Camila Cabello REVIEW: Shamelessly In Love

“You know it's been a long time coming,” Camila Cabello sings on the Grammy-nominated smash “Señorita” (which is the most-streamed song of 2019) featuring Shawn Mendes, their follow-up collaboration to “I Know What You Did Last Summer” from 2015. When she sings this line, it’s unclear who the ‘you’ is: Mendes or the audience. Shortly following the release of the track on June 21st, 2019, Cabello and Mendes were seen multiple times out together, displaying affection publicly that would suggest that they are not just friends...because, as she explains, “friends don’t know the way you taste.”

At the release of these stream of photos, many were quick to decide that this must be a stunt as a promotional ploy for the collaboration; but anyone even slightly invested in either one of the pop stars’ lives and music knew that it was, in fact, a long time coming. To any skeptics left, the timeline outlined (yet scattered) throughout Cabello’s second solo studio effort, Romance, should suffice as ample evidence that it’s the real deal, not that she needs to prove it, anyway.

Speaking of that timeline, the main takeaway from Romance’s story is this: men are idiots who don’t realize what they have until they can’t have it anymore. Unrequited love finally turned in favor just too little too late...until it’s not. As two sides of the same coin, “Should’ve Said It” and “Feel It Twice” showcase the two different internal reactions we women go through when someone we wanted for so long doesn’t want us until we’ve moved on with someone else: spite and sorrow. On one hand, she’s dismissive, and on the other, she’s remorseful. In the end, though, this tale has a happy ending, as she seizes the opportunity to finally be with the person she wanted “two years ago” despite the risk. The result? A full, shameless immersion into a world of unapologetic romance.

STRONGEST TRACK(S): “Bad Kind of Butterflies,” “Living Proof”

Although unlike anything else Cabello has released thus far in her solo career, “Bad Kind of Butterflies” is a compelling and straightforward confessional to her partner that despite her love for him she wants another. “What do I lose if I don't choose and keep it to myself?” she ponders, before ultimately landing upon a decision: “Warning me it’s a mistake, I just know I gotta make it.” Camila deserves some credit here; few people possess this kind of bravery. Many times, people in this situation do keep it to themselves, and then either end up unhappy, live in regret, or make mistakes instead of making an honest choice that will hurt fewer people in the long run. The beautifully haunting production that builds as the song progresses literally gives you the type of bad butterflies she’s describing, as if you’re the one moments away from your possible doom, or maybe an exciting new beginning, or both. Making a choice to follow your heart might trigger an upheaval of your previously planned life-course, but it is never a mistake. Luckily for Cabello, it seemed to work out.

On “Living Proof,” the last pre-release and latest single, Camila indulges in the cliche of linking worship and sex; however, instead of playing as overdone and tired, it just works, mainly due to Cabello’s outstanding vocal arrangement throughout, especially the harmonies in the last chorus. The track is sonically soft and sweet, so hypnotizingly complemented by Cabello’s flawless execution of such a high register; aside from Ariana Grande, no other pop artist can make it seem so effortless. Although the omission of a choir for the bridge and/or outro might be seen by some as a wise choice to balance the cliches, I kind of wish she did it anyway, and her inclusion of one during her wonderful performance on the Ellen Degeneres Show makes a strong case for it too.

WEAKEST TRACK: “This Love”

Perhaps the waltz-like nature of "This Love” is supposed to mirror the dance that Cabello and the subject of this song are playing at, but it fails to do so. When hearing the instrumentals for this track, you are expecting a loving, romantic song. Instead, the listener hears yet again about the games being played by this man and the back and forth between them. The lyrics feel incongruent with the music, and though the track is not bad, it might leave the listener unsatisfied.

THE IN-BETWEENS

There are plenty of other tracks to satiate the desire for pure romance, as promised. “Easy” and “Used To This” are two gorgeous tracks that perfectly encapsulate what it’s like to allow yourself to be loved when for so long you were unsure if it would ever happen the way you envisioned, making it very easy (no pun intended) to feel happy for Cabello (and Mendes), even so much so that you might find their love endearing enough to temporarily forget that Instagram video (you know the one) (sorry for making you remember it again). Cabello successfully experiments on the sultry “My Oh My” featuring DaBaby, which for some reason is a digital exclusive, and the dramatic and honest “Cry For Me,” which bluntly publicizes a sort of selfishness that most humans have felt but would deny, and gets better with each listen. Other tracks, however, such as “Liar” and “Feel It Twice” tire out quickly.

BEST PROSPECTIVE SINGLE: “Should’ve Said It”

Cabello sounds most authentic and commanding when she infuses her Latina roots with her pop inclinations. “Should’ve Said It” is effective, unique, and showcases all of Camila’s strengths in a catchy package to which many girls around the globe can easily relate. As Cabello chastises her muse for not knowing what he had until it was gone, you can’t help but vehemently agree while tapping your feet. Can’t you feel it turning into a power anthem already?

***

Even in her Fifth Harmony days, Cabello exhibited an unprecedented stage presence. Her first solo album, Camila, proved her star and staying power. There are many ways in which she has leveled up since, as displayed throughout Romance: her vocal range and control are much stronger and cleaner, she has trialed new musical styles that surprisingly suit her, and the production on almost every song is intriguing enough to make you want to listen again. However, the album feels lyrically lackluster; maybe this is because Camila proved to be a great lyricist with her debut, and the quality of writing on this album seems to match its predecessor rather than exceed it. That is not to say that great lyricism implies Shakespearean prose; sometimes, simplicity works just as successfully, if not even more so, as it allows for accessibility. The closing track of Romance, “First Man,” is an example of Cabello’s moving utilization of such simplicity. On an album that can feel repetitive at times considering its subject matter, an ode to the love Cabello shares with her father comes a bit out of left field, a refreshing final pull at the heartstrings. Mentions of jackets for cold weather and making it home safe remind us all that love- whether it is romantic, platonic, or familial- is loudest through the little things. Camila is clearly full of love, and if she continues to build on her ability to tap into it and express it honestly, the sky will be her limit. Grade: 3.5/5

DISCLAIMER - REVIEWER’S BIAS: I never cared for Fifth Harmony much when they were together, so Camila was not really on my radar until she was suddenly on everyone’s with her hit “Havana.” I remember watching her perform it on some awards show and being absolutely blown away by her stage presence. I knew she would be opening for Taylor Swift’s reputation Stadium Tour, and since I of course was attending I decided to listen to Camila shortly after its release, and I was surprised at how much I liked it! Although I enjoy this album very much, I was expecting a bit more from Romance; none of the songs have felt as special as “Consequences” or “Something’s Gotta Give” or “Havana” from her debut, and although I don’t think an artist should ever try to replicate past success or follow formulas that they think might get them there, I feel like that extra punch I was expecting from this album is missing. I still think she did a great job though- I was completely blown away by her vocals and the production, and I am excited to see where her career takes her.

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gltrngold-a · 4 years

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— ♥　♡　♥　THE SOVEREIGN ♥　♡　♥ —

“It's more like a song on a policeman's radio, how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple to slice into pieces.”

— crush, richard siken

｢ jodie comer. 23. female. she/her. ｣ welcome to cerulean pier, home of many mythological beings. did you know that our resident REGINA COLERIDGE is the child of ENYO? they don’t, maybe that’s why they’re known as the SOVEREIGN around town. they are PERSUASIVE & ENERGETIC, but also JUDGEMENTAL & CONCEITED. they are also currently AN ACTRESS. don’t say anything, but they are hiding THAT SHE ANONYMOUSLY SMEARED A COMPETITOR IN A MAGAZINE TO GET A LEAD ROLE. ｢ shannon, 20, she/her, bst. ｣

— ♥　♡　♥　basics ♥　♡　♥ —

name: regina florence coleridge age: twenty-three birthdate: 27 august, 1996 — cambridge, england zodiac ( sun ) sign: virgo orientations: pansexual, panromantic relationship status: single label: the sovereign occupation: actress

faceclaim: jodie comer height: 5 ft 8 in

— ♥　♡　♥　personality ♥　♡　♥ —

mbti: estp-a enneagram: seven, with an eight wing hogwarts house: slytherin temperament: choleric theme song: copycat by billie eilish

hobbies: martial arts, running, binge-drinking ( oops. ) spinning, astrology, tarot ( don’t tell anyone ! ) partying, mostly. modelling / being people’s muse in general captivates her.

— ♥　♡　♥　favourites ♥　♡　♥ —

songs:

new rules by dua lipa all i ever wanted by basshunter what hurts the most by cascada

television series:

green wing (2004-2007) community (2009-2015) fleabag (2016-2019)

books:

confessions of a teenage drama queen (dyan sheldon, 1999) good omens (neil gaiman and terry pratchett, 1990) bridget jones’ diary (helen fielding, 1996)

films:

home alone (1990) bill & ted’s excellent adventure (1989) drop dead fred (1991)

— ♥　♡　♥　summary ♥　♡　♥ —

okay so here’s the hoedown throwdown about cerulean pier’s party princess, regina! tw for drugs and alcohol mentioned, though not in detail, below.

i think there’s definitely sidney pierce from gypsy in her. and a little hayes morrison from conviction.

extrovert #1 and snack fiend. chaotic bisexual bastard.

obviously she doesn’t know anything about her life pre-island, but she still sounds english. perfectly received-pronunciation and lovely, and yes, people stay jealous and pressed about it.

her ( fake ) father is a politician. and as you can imagine, politics was the true love of his life, in and outside the home, and it didn’t exactly foster the closest relationship with him.

because of that and the obvious absence of her mother — enyo — she’s never really gotten the sense that anyone owes anyone commitment ?

she did briefly progress with her one serious relationship, but with that having ended two years ago, she’s mega regressed, folks.

regina is a little too willing to throw hands, start fights, etc. ( she came out to attack people and she’s having such a good time right now. it’s the enyo in her. ) it’s a personal favourite thing of hers to throw hands with rings on. it’s pretty and painful and what’s better than that?

through back-room connections ( in some ways scrupulous, some ways not ) the eighteen year old was given a place at the prestigious drama school, and became the muse of a leading director.

however, that didn’t come without being willing to play the game. did i mention the one who came with her to drama school? her best friend, who was the other person who caught the director’s eye.

so regina did what seeing her father in politics for so long taught her: go secretive, go underhanded, and it will get you far. because she was never taught not to. sabotaging others subtly while smiling too-sweetly to their faces had made her queen bee, and it was a strategy she wasn’t going to be letting go of any time soon.

she’s got acting awards, people! they sit in pride of place on her mantelpiece and she cares for them like they’re her own children. so yeah, ‘gina’s pretty darn famous and she’s having a great time with it. getting herself entangled romantically and otherwise with the elite is her favourite game!

she’s just a messy bitch who lives for drama. and the world is giving it to her.

she’s developed several issues with alcohol and substance abuse over the last couple years, especially since her break-up. it’s an unfortunate side-effect of the crowds she got in with, and never really having the influence in her life to pull her away from it / tell her to go to rehab. someone really should do that.

— ♥　♡　♥　wanted connections ♥　♡　♥ —

fans — she’d hardly be famous without them! give me people who know regina’s work and love her for it. we can plot whether they get on or if it’s a never meet your idols kind of scenario !

nemesis — someone who just can’t stand regina, no matter how she may try to swindle and charm them. they’re determined to let cerulean pier know who their ‘queen bee’ really is.

squad — bring me ye party-goers, ye chaos-creators, ye bitches! there’s no queen bee without a hive, and there’s no group of people regina coleridge loves more than her guys and gals. getting themselves in the magazines since the very beginning, baby!

best friend — the one regina stabbed in the back to get the acting job. they still don’t know it was her, they’re still absolutely brilliant friends, and regina feels no remorse for it whatsoever, so let’s give ourselves some fun future angst here. after all, it’s a secret she’s been sitting on for five years without telling.

unrequited crush — let’s force regina to face the reality of there being someone she wants but she just can’t have. fun slap in the face here. she needs it.

one night stands — past, present, or future, the promiscuous party princess truly is down for whatever (when it comes to you) !

eventual romantic interest because let’s make her feel something. could be slow burn. doesn’t have to be. let’s talk about it.

#gods:intro

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somedaywithflyingcolors · 4 years

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Tymee Thoughts Tuesday #1

February 25, 2020

1. EDSA Revolution and Imelda Marcos

Today, the Filipino people celebrates the 34th year that we were able to overthrow a dictator, Ferdinand Marcos through collective action. And this was not a single dictatorship, it was conjugal. Ferdinand Marcos ruled hand in hand with her wife, Imelda Romualdez Marcos. The “beautiful” and extravagant Imelda.

Under the Marcos Regime, they were able to stay in power for as long as 21 years. They declared Martial Law which lasted a good eight years with the excuse of extinguishing rising communist threats (exaggerated to extend and increase their power). During the regime, 70,000 were jailed as political prisoners. 35,000 were tortured. Almost 3,000 were killed. Human rights were violated.

Luckily, this week, I have had the chance to watch two documentaries featuring the iconic First Lady. Ramona Diaz’ Imelda (2003) and Lauren Greenfield’s The Kingmaker (2019).

While Ferdinand Marcos seems to be very predictable and lawyerly-like, Imelda, with her beauty, wits, and charm, is very spontaneous. The narcissistic woman and her edifice complex seems to make her appear someone not to be taken seriously. This was all part of the act. The 3,000 pairs of shoes, the lavish dresses, the terno, the hair, it was part of her brand. She wants to appear as someone laughable but she does that with the intent to manipulate us.

In the Ramona Diaz documentary, she goes on explaining her absurd theories of life from apple to apple and here obsession with beauty as part of the Circle of Life -- how beauty is love applied. It was funny at first and would make you believe that she needs psychological help (fun fact: in the kingmaker it was revealed that she was actually brought in a psychological hospital in New York where the doctor aid that she’s okay, she just could not take politics, so Ferdinand said that he will give up politics for her, which obviously didn’t happen, but after that incident, Imelda is a new person). Afterwards, it starts becoming horrifying.

This quote from the documentary reveals how out of touch Imelda was with the reality of the situation. Truly, the best villains in a story are those that think they're the hero.

Let’s now jump to the Kingmaker!!! This one talks more about the rise authoritarianism, how the Marcoses are going back power. It acknowledges that Imelda is an unreliable narrator but is a very instinctive and powerful political animal.

A great point that hits home is when a footage jumped on the kids in a high school asking what their thoughts were on martial law. All they said were positive (but untrue) accounts of the Marcos regime. The history was revised. The memory of tortured heroes, forgotten. The children had a Utopian view of the Martial Law Era, seeing it as a time of economic progress and discipline, when it fact it is very far from the truth.

That said, it show the importance of writing our histories, sharing them with the world, because with the rise of authoritarianism, the strong-man narrative of Rodrigo Duterte (our current president), one the only ways that we do not fall to the same mistakes of history is to study it, remember it, and learn from it. It is scary to imagine another Martial Law, but seeing the political climate now, the future is not very far. We need to educate more, be vigilant. Hold our line and contribute in our nation-building. Contribute in defending our freedom.

Another feature of the film that I didn’t know before was how Imelda displaced 254 families, a community in Calauit, an inhabited island, just to house the animals coming from Kenya. Now, the safari and its animals, with no budget, no veterinarians, are suffering. The community in there were suffering as well. This is a metaphor for the Regime’s way of using their power as well as their priorities once in power.

Some key takeaways:

- The EDSA Revolution was not bloodless. The revolution began 14 years ago. Saying that it is peaceful and bloodless disregards the unsung heroes that were killed in the process.

- The Filipinos are very forgiving. What we Filipinos should learn is that while we can forgive, it is also important that we hold those that wronged us accountable. It is almost unthinkable how a family of someone that plundered an estimate of half a trillion peso can still return to power.

- As much we can, we must also continue to speak of the people that were against this dictatorship as someone to emulate. One person from the panel said that for every time we are angry and mention the Marcoses name, we must spread the names of the people who toppled the dictatorship ten times so as to have someone to emulate and be known. People like Edgar Jopson, Archimedes Trajano, Primitivo Mijares, Pete Lacaba, Emmanuel Lacaba, Lorena Barros. They are the heroes that need to be broadcasted more in this narrative. Less of the narcissism of Imelda and more of the injustice and violations of democracies during that time.

-Duterte and Marcos are experts of the Filipino Psychology. While we academics tend to be very rational and logical, these politicians know how to tickle the minds of the Filipinos to allure them into believing that they are someone that they could trust. Now, they not only use the media. They also use weaponize the Internet in a way that would benefit their narrative. Their propaganda continues with all the lies and the fake news.

Sorry this was mostly me talking about Imelda and their injustices during their time in power. I still have so many words and I really can’t help but be outraged. It was just so outrageous to think that (1) they are slowly going back in power, (2) they have no remorse nor guilt over what they did, (3) they have single (double??)handedly affected the influenced major key factors of today’s time, mostly relating to the economic status of the country.

ANYWAY, here are some of the other thoughts that have passed through and plagued my mind through the week!!

2. Valentines Day Podcasts

Because it is still February, go on and check some of the cool podcasts about it!

Here’s Usapang Econ Podcast that discusses the economics of love and valentines!! (In Filipino, sorry international audience :( )

And this episode of Debatable by Nina and Kyle that discussed some debate motions about love and valentines. I really enjoyed their chaotic energy there. I ship the two too, so that’s a plus! (Seriously Kyle, why would you leave Nina hanging on your Valentines Dinner for a Bumble Date??)

3. You will be judged not by what you do but by what you did not do. Some musing on where best to spend my time.

I have been thinking about the organizations that I need to join and the things I need to do to be able to land a good job once I graduate. I want to do an internship. In the my course, an internship is voluntary. In the Philippines, unlike in the US or other Western Countries, becoming an Intern just because you want exposure on something is not the fad. Internships are a mandatory thing needed before you graduate. However, I don’t want to just go with the flow. I want to gain real life experience on real things, especially on the work that I am most interested in. This was triggered by this Rappler Article regarding internship, wherein, apparently, aside from a CV, I also need to pin a portfolio of a work that I’ve done. I am beginning to become convinced that for me to land a good job someday, I need to begin looking for connections related to the job that I want to do. A thick CV won’t cut it. I want to maximize my skills and opportunities here in college while I still can.

Tomorrow, I will be awarded as one of the University Scholars of my University. It can be assumed that I am a good student, I get good grades, pass my work on time. But am I really limited just by the grades that I earned inside the classroom? Should I rush into looking for a workplace or should I just continue doing the things that I’m currently doing (because it seems to be working). Should I dare to be more than what I am now?

Because that entails sacrifice. It may mean less time for family, less sleep, less time for myself. God knows how much I value my time alone. But God also knows how much time I waste for resting and sanity breaks (a little bit too much break tbh). Another fear that I have is going against the harmonious relationship that I think I have now with my family. Saying that I want to do an Internship, which is not included in the curriculum, may raise some eyebrows from the people in my family. I think I need more courage to explain to them the value of doing such things. I remember a saying that I don’t know where I remember from (maybe in the Bible, but I can’t find it): You are judged not by the good that you do, but by the good that you choose not to do. What am I not doing? How can I be better?

#EDSA34 #NeverAgain #NeverForget #EDSARevolution #MartialLaw #TheKingmaker #ValentinesDay #Valentines #Tymee #Thoughts #Filipino #imelda marcos

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scarlettswxtch · 5 years

Text

Darkest Side of Me | 1

Characters: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You’re recruited as a new Avenger with powers unlike any other. With a tragic past blurred from birth, who will be at your side when you realise who you truly are?

Word count: 3,310

A/N: hi guys! this is my first post and fan-fiction, hope you enjoy it! I may turn this into a Bucky x Steve x Reader love triangle if you guys want me to. I did a little something with Steve and the reader that could be developed so let me know your thoughts! On a further note - I made this because I love writing and I love marvel so what better way to express that than write fanfics for my fellow marvel lovers?? Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: This fanfiction is M Rated, and the men (really only Steve and Bucky) will all be dominant guys, if you’re into that sorta thing. However, this chapter is totally PG :)

DARKEST SIDE OF ME

PART 2

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay here Miss, the rest of the Avengers will welcome you with open arms.” said F.R.I.D.A.Y as you went up the elevator, your fingers restlessly tapping the side of your thigh from agitation - You weren’t usually agitated, but it’s fair to say in this situation, it was justifiable.

You had already met the infamous Tony Stark, courtesy of Nick Fury as he very un-thoughtfully appointed the ridiculously confident man as your ‘babysitter’ (as Tony so elegantly put it). At least Agent Hill had, thoughtfully, advised Nick to introduce you to Nat and Wanda, in which he thankfully complied.

You first met Nat a few days ago, and you had seen each other a few times since. She was a redhead and a sinfully pretty one at that. Her hair reminded you of the burnt orange sunset over Camara Bay, it was warm and it tumbled over her shoulders like rusty water. She was sweet, yet there was an air of wisdom about her that only those which have seen the worst could have. Then there was Wanda, the gorgeous, all-powerful brunette.

“Thank you, um-”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y”

“Right,” you say and sigh as the elevator doors ring to signal you’ve reached your destination. You took your lower lip between your teeth and began chewing, fiddling with the strap of your bag and taking a deep breath as the doors opened to reveal Tony Stark’s handsome, smiling face. Seriously...he was good looking for a man his age.

“Ah, there’s my gorgeous niece,” he said, “took your time getting here”.

You rolled your eyes at that “I’m not your niece, and I wasn’t aware I was on a schedule.” You grumbled as you walked passed him.

“You technically are” replied Tony and you turned to raise a brow at him in question “Fury appointed me as your babysitter, that practically means I’m your long lost and awesomely cool uncle.” he finished with a bright smile and you sighed at that, shaking your head in surrender. “Anyway, the team is waiting to meet you in the living room, we should head over before they die from curiosity.” He said as he sauntered over to you. Apparently, the team had been curious about you all week - which is slightly unsettling. You wondered what Tony had told them.

“You seem nervous” he mused, sipping on his shiny glass cup which most likely contained some sort of whiskey. You shrugged at that, hitching your bag further up your shoulder as you assessed the walls - everything was covered in art, sculpture, marble and glass. The Avengers clearly lived like royalty.

“I guess I just don’t know what to expect,” you mumbled distractedly.

“Understandable,” Tony replies, stopping at the edge of the entrance to face you. He sighs as he stares down at you with mellow eyes “You shouldn’t worry, they’ll like you.” he assures and you raise a questioning brow “What makes you so sure?”

He offers a tight-lipped smile, seeming awfully fatherly right then; a pang of melancholy hit you hard. “Because I do”, he says, and you nod at that, hoping he was right. The last thing you needed was to be stuck with a bunch of people who disliked you, not that you’d care much anyway. “Now come on,” he says as he ushers me to enter the room.

Instantly, you’re greeted by a very exuberant living room, but then again - it was the Avenger’s base, so it wasn’t surprising. The room was like a perfect magazine cover. You were afraid to sit in case you’d wrinkle the fabric or stain it with something you didn't even know was on your pants. The couch is cream but inlaid with fine green silk; leaves embroidered so delicately that they might have landed there in spring and just sunk in, but you knew they took hundreds of hours to sow. The white curtains are linen, the kind of white that is untouched by hands and devoid of dust. A cursory look to the right shows you the almost hidden cords that are used to open and close them. There is a television, a bookshelf and chairs arranged around the bespoke fireplace which leaps with a gas flame. The paintings are incredible, not casual abstract work, but expensive renaissance art. The floor is a high polished wood, dark and free of either dust or clutter.

You barely had time to assess the room any further before your attention was grabbed by a very unnerving feeling. Every single set of eyes were boring into you; assessing and some wary with curiosity. You hated attention of any kind but always got it. Tony cleared his throat before he turned to the group: “This is our newest addition, as I’m sure you already know,” he said, giving you a tight shoulder hug, awarding him a glare from you to which he humorously winked at.

Nat and Wanda were the first to react, getting up with smiles as they greeted you “Finally,” said Wanda as she approached. Her hair was as waves of pure earth, softly reflecting the light of the outside sun blazing in through the windows; each strand moving freely in an ocean born breeze, a compliment to her kind eyes. “We’ve been dying to get a new female addition to the group” and with that, she hugged you tightly.

“All this male testosterone is starting to choke us to death,” Nat mumbled and gave you a small smile as a greeting, her orange sunset locks capturing the light in vibrant ruby hues. Nat was less affectionate than Wanda, and out of her usual black on black uniform, she looked incredibly mundane.

“I can only imagine,” you said and grinned at them. Your eyes scanned the living room, finding various handsome eyes studying you with curiosity. They watched you, studying how well your Amazonian figure fit against your clothing. How the captive aroma redolent of roses and meadow fresh lavender lingered in the room long before you entered.

But it was the set of pure icy blue eyes that stopped you dead in your tracks, they were staring right back at you. Even from afar, they were unmistakable. The man was absolutely gorgeous and utterly captivating in every way. Handsome and young, looking to be in his early to mid-twenties at most, his fair skin and incredible bone structure were flawless. His dark hair was a messy kind of perfect. And his lips. Your heart rate increased as you watched them curl into an enticing smirk. Oh my.

You blinked, the burning hint of a blush flying across your cheeks. How long had you been staring?

“Welcome to the team.” A voice said from beside you, snapping you out of your daze. Your eyes shifted to meet a handsome blonde man with eyes almost as blue. You blinked slowly. He was handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice. A prominent jaw curved gracefully around and the strength of his neck, showing in the twining cords of muscle that shaped his entire body; strong arms, bold thighs and calves, a firm chest and abdomen. He was an Adonis.

His eyes twinkled knowingly. “I’m Steve,” he said with a smile. “Nice to have you on board.” he finished and offered his hand for a courteous handshake. You stared, unable to help yourself. You placed your hand in his, nodding with a shy smile “Pleasures all mine,” you said. He studied you too, feeling that eerie sensation when you witness someone truly beautiful: that strange and sad feeling; that doomy vertigo. You were enticing and lovely at the same time. He let your hand drop.

Steve blinked, and his lips moved. “That’s Sam,” he said as he pointed to the dark-skinned man on the couch. He gave you a broad smile and a sarcastic salute which you returned right back with a smirk, making him chuckle. “Welcome to the crew,” he said before Steve pointed to a short-haired man “Hey,” he said as he offered you a nod and a large smile as a greeting “that’s Clint,” Cap filled in for you and you gave him a smile back.

“And that’s Bucky, our very own Winter Soldier,” he said as his eyes moved to the icy-eyed man on the couch. To your dismay, he wasn’t much of a talker - he simply offered you a nod in greeting which you returned. His eyes flickered between you and Steve, a flash of something unknown passing before his eyes.

Nat leaned into you “Don’t be offended if he doesn’t speak to you, he’s kind of a brooder.” she whispered and the side of your lips helplessly curved into an understanding smile.

“No hard feelings” you mumbled back to her, watching as the soldier’s gaze lowered and lingered on the curve of your lips. He imagined they’d taste like rose petals. His eyes snapped back to your dazed ones, making your cheeks tint pink once more. You looked away.

Tony clapped in announcement “More importantly, we have, quite literally, been waiting for you all day so let’s get down to the festives”

Your brow arched in question “Festives?”

“Tony had the brilliant idea of hosting a movie night for you,” Nat said, her gaze shifting to meet Tony as it turned narrowed “though I objected because clearly, she might want some space to get used to her surroundings.”

Your gaze flickered from the scattered food on the table to the stupidly massive TV-Screen. Your lips tipped up “Depends on what we’re watching”.

“We had a vote” Clint interjected, “The Titanic won because Tony, Steve, Wanda and Nat are a bunch of sappy bastards.”

Your eyes rounded in feigned horror as you turned to look at Tony “Tony, you’re a great guy, but I would honestly rather stick a pitchfork in my eye than watch that horrid movie.” you said as you tapped his arm in mock condolence. “Maybe next time”

You turned to see Sam and Clint chuckle at your comment “I like her already” Sam said to Clint as he chuckles at Tony’s dramatic hurt expression.

“You guys go ahead and have movie night without me, I’m gonna go upstairs and unpack” you said, gesturing to the bag hanging from your shoulder as you offered them a salute in farewell.

And with that, F.R.I.D.A.Y lead you down the corridor, up a flight of magnificently curled glass stairs and to a wide corridor. “This would be your room Miss” said F.R.I.D.A.Y “Mr.Stark insisted we didn’t decorate it, he thought you might’ve liked to”

“Thank you F.R.I.D.A.Y” you aid and peered inside - it was simple and plain with a white silk covered double bed, and some other expensive looking furniture. “Please don’t hesitate to contact Mr.Stark if you need anything” F.R.I.D.A.Y informed.

And with that, you were left on your own. You peered around once again and sighed as you walked inside. This was to be your home from now until gods know when. Your gaze landed on a digital clock by the nightstand - 11:34pm, it said. You wouldn’t be getting sleep anytime soon so you started to unpack your clothes, neatly folding them and putting them away in the large, walk-in closet clad in marble and glass.

A folded picture came into view, and you stopped, eyes blinking slowly, you grabbed it out of your bag. A picture of your ex-husband - smiling wide, blonde hair framing his lovely face. He reminded you of Steve, his face endlessly beautiful and his eyes impossibly green. The memory of his death swirled in your mind, making your eyes close over in pain. You blinked back tears at the memory, and the pain it caused you. The tears flowed unchecked, dripped from your chin. You were too sad to cry out or wail, you just stood there as still as a statue. You were lost in the torrid vortex of the moment, forever tormented by a past that could not be undone.

Humans are frail, fleeting creatures. You had no place with them and it was naive to think you did. Even Fury himself didnt know the extent of your powers. He took you in because you were an immortal, a goddess of much the same status as Thor himself, if not more grand. Your mother and father father were gods from one of the nine realms of the universe. Your father was from Vanaheim, to be exact. And your mother? you knew nothing of her. You knew you were of Hel, a place of death and doom, the end of the Gods and Goddesses. They said life could not be created in the realm of death, but your existence was proof of otherwise. Vanahiem, however, was the home of the Vanir Gods, masters of sorcery, life and magic and their ability to predict the future. You knew you were the daughter of two elites, so your blood ran pure. You had mastered the art of mimicry, healing and telekinesis. Fortunately, the art of future telling wasn’t something you were gifted with. From your mothers part is where your darkness comes from - your touch could be one of life or death if you chose it to be so. The darkest part of you is a soul harbinger, an illusionist. When you took people's souls, it increased your magical powers. The unity of light and dark swirled inside you like waves. Serene yet stormy, it was a paradox.

Your eyes flipped open and you tightened your jaw, tucking the picture safely. You got up and put on your pyjamas. Your eyes skimmed the clock which signaled it was now nearing 4am, so you sauntered out of your room and down the stairs, hoping no one was awake.

The kitchen was empty and the living room was scattered with empty sweet packets and soda cans, so you assumed everyone had gone to bed. Thankfully, there was also no one in the terrace, so you wondered outside and leaned onto the glass bars, staring up at the sky in thought. Stars lit the sky like snow-flakes in the night, yet appeared still, like an old photograph. You smiled to yourself, feeling the wind blow your hair into a tousled mane. Humans had now idea how the stars moved, how galaxies tumble and dart.

You had been banned from Vanaheim for being born of Hel, forbidden to step foot in it. They were afraid of your existence. You were seen as impure, your blood was not gold like theirs. Your hair was not impossibly golden, nor did it sparkle like sunshine. Your eyes were not pure white and glittering like those of the Vanir. Instead, you resembled the place of your birth.

You had spent most your life on Earth, respectfully. There was no reason to stay elsewhere. Not even Asgard, with all it’s Gods, would grant you refuge. Not even the darkest parts of them dared to keep Death’s daughter. You had never met your father, you only knew glimpses of him - his pure gold hair and his glittering eyes, sometimes passing over you in your dreams. You knew he was still alive, because he was immortal, like you. Your Earth mother, Dione had taught you everything you knew - independence, kindness, beauty, grace, control. But she had also taught you things a father should teach their son, because she knew you would be alone for the rest of your life. Here on Earth, when people are so fleeting - immortality would never be a gift worth cherishing.

You licked your lips, looking away from the sky and as your eyes turned to meet a withering rose. Your head tilted to the side as you picked it from it’s stem and used your powers to let it hover in front of you as it twirled into life, something like golden liquid ran through it before it’s petals turned back to their vibrant red. You had power to give life and take it, two beautiful sides of the spectrum. Sometimes you wondered if where your father came from there were things as lovely as earth’s nature.

“Beautiful.” you heard a voice say from behind you. You whirled around, startled. Your eyes met those very same wonderfully blue ones that had entranced you earlier. You watched as he came closer and crouched before you to pick the rose that had fallen. He held it in-front of you as you stared helplessly into his eyes. Gods, you felt as if you could just get lost in them forever. Their lightness was beautiful.

His gaze flickered from the flower to you “Can’t sleep?” he asked and you swallowed. His voice was like silk. It was unnerving that he made you nervous, it wasn’t something everyone could do. You studied him with curiosity, and he studied you with wonder. Your complexion had an impeccable hue. Your eyebrows eased down gently to your dark, long eyelashes. A sculptor could not have fashioned you any better. He remembered your smile earlier, beguiling as it lit up the room. It could jolt anyone, like an electric current. And your eyes, he thought they were like two jewels melted onto snow.

You blinked, as if to wake yourself from a daze. “Something like that” you replied, as you took the rose from between his fingers.

He nodded and walked past you to sit on the chair by the corner of the terrace. You looked at him in uncertainty, before you plopped yourself down beside him. “And you?” you asked after moments of silence, he turned and raised a brow in question “Can’t sleep?” you said, mimicking his earlier question. His lips tipped up ever so slightly, that smirk was even more appealing up close.

“Something like that” he said, mimicking your earlier words and making your lips twist into a small grin.

“Penny for your thoughts.” he murmured.

“What?”

“What were you thinking about before I interrupted you?”

You took at deep breath as the side of your lips tipped up teasingly “If I wanted you to know my thoughts, soldier, I would’ve said them aloud.”

“Fair point.”

Your head titled to the side, eying his metal arm in curiosity before your gaze snapped back up to his “But I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours”, you teased.

“What makes you think I have thoughts worth sharing?” he asks with an arched brow.

You took a deep breath before trailing your finger down his forearm, a whisper of a touch as you saw the metal shift, he jerked at the contact and your eyes snapped to his. God, they were so much more beautiful up close. The icy blueness of them generated a feeling like you were being pulled into a lake of frozen emotions. It was like all the myriad shades of blue swirled together to form a whirlpool. The depth of them was startling, like he had seen a thousand tragedies. This was a man broken, much like you. You could sense it in his soul; a kind of tragic beauty.

“I’m much more perceptive than I seem.” you say, taking your hand away from his arm as you lifted yourself from the seat.

“Sweet dreams” you mumble. You wrap your gown around you, the silk caressing your skin. He watched you, entranced by how effortlessly graceful you were. Even the slightest movement; a curve of your mouth, the flicker of your sparkling eyes, any movement at all - was lovely.

He watched you walk out of the terrace, and you could feel his gaze boring into your back. When you left, the sweet aroma of roses and lavender lingered still into the early hours of the morning. Something told him you were going to be trouble he couldn’t avoid.

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purplesurveys · 7 years

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199

Have you ever read the Hunger Games series? No I never got into both the book and film series. I wish I did read the books though...oh well, it’s never too late to start on them. When was the last time you ran into something? There’s so many things I could run into though haha. I guess the frog that I met while I was taking some trash out a couple of days ago? Do you enjoy dressing up? Sure. I love parties. Do you live in the city or a rural area? In the middle. I literally live right before the city and right before the more province-y part of town. Would you say you have a sense of style? Yeah, my friends have pointed it out occasionally. It’s never intentional and I never wanted to project a certain image, but whatever.

What's your biggest fear? These surveys have made me realize that aside from cockroaches, I am also very terrified of fire. :-( Have you ever been bitten by a wild animal? Not bitten, although I got pecked by this huge bird in a mini-safari because it caught me taking a picture of it when I was 12. Are you close to any of your cousins? I’m close with one. We’re quite older, and everyone else is much younger so I can’t really build the close and personal relationship that I would want to have with them. Have you ever been lost in the woods? Nope I wouldn’t want to do anything that will put me in that situation. Where did you last travel? I was in Vigan last September. Do you enjoy driving? I love the independence aspect of it–my mom can’t ever say no to my plans now because I’ll always have the capability to drive anyway. But that’s the only advantage, really. Driving is exciting for the first few months but then you realize Manila traffic takes out at least four hours of your day everyday just weaving in and out of traffic. It’s ultimately tiring. What song did you last listen to? Tell Me How by Paramore. If you have a job, how often do you work? No job. What time do you normally go to sleep at night? I can’t give you an exact time but it’s usually between 9 PM and 1 AM. Do you watch a lot of movies? I used to but I’ve temporarily lost my muse for it. Hopefully the upcoming awards season will rouse my interest again. Do you like Tom Petty? Never listened to his music. Would you rather have snow or rain? I mean just because I’ve never seen it, snow. Do you own a lot of sweaters? Nope. I only have one and it isn’t even mine, technically. It’s too hot to wear sweaters any time of the year, so why spend several hundred bucks on something I doubt I’ll be able to wear more than twice a year? Have you ever tried rock-climbing? Oh man I always wanted to but was always lazy when there’s an opportunity hahaha. Ever ridden in a police car? No. Favorite decade of music? I don’t have one. I have favorite genres and they encompass various decades instead. Have any of your best friends been your best friend longer than a year? Yes. For longer than a decade, really. The only best friend I had who wasn’t able to hang on was Sofie, but even that had been longer than a year. Ever witnessed a murder? No. I’ve seen my loved ones getting murdered in my dreams, but never one in real life. Do you care what people think of you? My friends, yes. Anyone else, I don’t see why it should concern me. Does your room have a ceiling fan? No, I find it too old-fashioned for my room. Would you consider yourself poised? I have my moods, and that’s all thanks to my Classic Hollywood phase hahaha. I learned all of my etiquette from Audrey Hepburn. Have you ever tried blogging? Yes. I made a bajillion Blogger accounts but only made one entry with each of them. I had a lot because I would forget my username and password as soon as I made my first post and proceeded to abandon them. Favorite television channel? I don’t watch TV. Have you ever lied under oath? No. I’ve never even been under oath. What are your religious views? I don’t have any other than I never agreed with anything that’s ever come out of Catholicism, and that’s coming from 17 years of experience. Are you a romantic person? I’m super sweet in private. Otherwise, in a public setting, I’m hesitant to be showy. Just because I know it would annoy me if I saw a couple who’s a little into their PDA. Would you consider yourself a flirt? No. I never had the opportunity to find out for myself. At what age do you plan to be married? 27-29 should be fine. Do you eat a lot of junk food? Hah. When did you last go on vacation? September. Are you resilient? I can be. It will ultimately depend on the situation at hand. Have you ever failed a subject before? No. I’ve failed tests, but never a class. If so, what was the class? Do you wear more bright or dull colors? Dull. Wearing bright colors would be very out of character for me. Do you know anyone who has attempted suicide? Yes. What's your favorite quote? I give different answers to this question all the time. Right now it’s, “Next time you point a finger, I might have to bend it back or break it off / Next time you point a finger, I’ll point you to the mirror.” from Paramore’s Playing God. Would you consider yourself mature? Yeah, at least more mature than the wild party animals that are the business students in my school. How many clocks are in your house? Several. I can’t be bothered to visualize and start counting right now. Do you play any sports? Yes. I play table tennis. What is your biggest life regret? This isn’t my doing and it’s not really a regret, but I’ve always wanted to see the person I would have turned out to be if I wasn’t raised in the detrimental environment I was raised in. Like, who would I be if my mom didn’t put me down mentally and emotionally every single day? What kind of outlook would I have if I had parents who had jobs that allowed them to be constantly at home and thus would be able to actually build a connection with us? How happier would I have been if I didn’t have to spend every time wondering if my relatives would nearly attack each other to death, intoxicated? It’s really saddening and I apologize to myself every day for not being given something better, even though I don’t even know who to blame it on. Have you ever been injured in a car accident? No, I’ve been in veeeery minor ones. If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be? I’d love to be in a museum right at this moment. Have you ever had highlights in your hair? Never did like highlights. Favorite fast food restaurant? Jollibee. In what country were you born? Born and raised in the Philippines. Are your eyes more than one color? Nope. Have you ever caught something on fire? NOOOOPE. I’m scared of fire so when I do have to deal with it, I’m careful as all hell. What would you consider your biggest flaw? I’m way too sensitive. If someone takes even the slightest, most innocent dig at me, rest assured that it will stay with me and could change the way I look at myself. What do you think your best quality is? I’m fiercely protective of and loyal to my loved ones. I’d put them first before me any day. Some have noticed that I kind of sacrifice too much in order to benefit the other, but I’ve never seen that as a bad thing. My specialty, really, has always been being there for people. Do you enjoy listening to others' problems? I don’t enjoy the fact that they have a problem. I do enjoy that they trust me enough to tell me all about what they are going through and went to me for either support or advice. Do you keep any plants in your house? Yup, we have several in the living room. What is your mother's occupation? I have no clue. Last time I bothered to ask, she was some kind of secretary in one of the departments of the hotel she works in. Do any of your friends like your musical style? I don’t have a distinct musical style, that belongs to my other friends who give more attention to the aesthetic they put out haha. But none of them enjoy my punk rock taste, definitely. What are you most looking forward to? Our field trip for our art studies class next Saturday. What was your favorite television show as a child? My first-ever favorite was The Wild Thornberries and Hi-5 with the original cast. Then I moved on to Spongebob, Fairly OddParents, Drake and Josh, and The Suite Life as I got older. Are you afraid of insects? Completely. Are you cold-natured? I’m not sure what this wants to refer to. How old were you when you got your first pet? I may have been 5 when I got my first goldfish. Did you/do you enjoy high school? For the most part, yes. I went through a lot, but the reward from it is that I learned so much about myself in return. I gained a lot of friends, finally knew which types of people I want to build connections with, and I also grew a lot closer with my batch that I will never stop referring to as my sisters. I never viewed my academics as very important since I figured early on that it isn’t going to matter in the real world and in the long run, so I didn’t stress myself out on them as much as everyone else did. My only enemy was the Catholic vision of the school. What would you say was your favorite age? 16 was my happiest age. What annoys you most about social networking? I hate that homophobic, transphobic, and racist people are allowed to have accounts. Are you the center of attention most of the time? Definitely not. What are you currently reading? I’m not reading anything but after this I hope to start on my readings for history class that I’ve been putting off for ages hahaha. When did you last go to the library? I have no clue. April? Are you ill at the moment? Far from it. Do people tease you about anything? Nope. How late did you stay up last night and why? Around 10 PM. No reason. I wanted to sleep earlier but couldn’t, so I watched videos and read articles to make myself feel sleepy. Have you ever written poetry? Only when I had to for English. Curtains or shades? I have shades, but prefer curtains. How many people have you spoken to in the last hour? Two. Do you tend to text a lot? Yes, but the only person I text is Gab hahaha since everyone else is reachable on Messenger. Still, I text a lot. Ever lost a great best friend? Yes. Losing Sofie was kind of sad, but I got over it quickly. I also lost Gabie for a while. What is your favorite kind of flower? Answered this before. I love all flowers except anthuriums. I’m not sure about other countries, but in the Philippines that’s the go-to flowers for cemeteries and I’ve since grown to hate how it looks. How tall are you? 5′1″ or 5′2″. Haven’t checked in a while so it could be either one. Do you own any guns? No. I don’t have a reason to own one. What would you say is your favorite book of all-time? I’m afraid a book hasn’t had that much of an impact on me yet. Do you think you're living a good life? No. What's your least favorite part of the day? The afternoon when the weather is at its most humid :( Plus everyone just seems to be a little more dead at that time of the day. Are you an over-achiever? Hahahaha, no. No matter how well I perform there’s always someone else that makes me achievements almost laughable in comparison. Have you ever won an award for a speech? No. I’ve gained recognition, but not an actual award. Do you tend to curse a lot? Yes. Have you ever played on the Ouija board? No. Always been fascinated with it. Do you sleepwalk? I don’t. Have you ever slept on the floor before? Yes, I’ve had to several times. Are you a fan of public displays of affection? Fan is a creepy way to put it. I don’t mind PDA, people are allowed to hold hands and hold each other by the waist and such. It becomes meh when it goes too far like excessive cuddling, but thankfully I rarely witness that. I do remember one couple openly making out in Universal Studios in Singapore though. In a line for a ride. Filled with families. I wanted to make gagging noises so bad ugh. When did you last attend a yard sale? Years ago. Do you wish your life were simpler or more interesting? More interesting, of course. What goals do you wish to accomplish tomorrow? I want to get started on a homework for my major, and get more readings done. When is your birthday? April 21st. Which is worse: going blind or deaf? Bad question. What was the best part of today? Eh, it’s been pretty slow today. Nothing so far, really. Do you attempt to stay away from drama? Ugh for fucking sure, yes. I know some people who are still obsessed with high school level drama. It’s fun to watch it from afar.

What liquid did you last drink? Water. Do you ever prefer to be alone? Majority of the time. Have you ever had a deadly animal as a pet? No. My mom wouldn’t let that pass. Favorite Disney movie? Toy Story or Tangled. Have you ever been to the beach? Many times. If you have, how many times have you been? ^ What was your dream occupation at age ten? I wanted to be an author at the time, so not really far off from my present aspirations to work in mass communication. Are you terrified at the idea of weight-gain? No. I actually want to gain a little so that I can fit (nicely) into clothes that I do want to wear. I’m naturally thin and something that people tend to skim over about being skinny is that very few articles of clothing can complement your figure. Do you drink a lot of water? Yes. Love water. I’m responsible for finishing up the pitchers in the fridge all the time. Does your room have carpet or hard-wood floors? Hardwood. Do you take naps daily? Most of the time I can’t, since I spend the whole day in school. Who were you named after? I was told that I was named after the Swedish singer also named Robyn, but my parents’ versions change EVERY TIME I bring the question up. I have no idea why they can’t give me a straight answer. Do you plan on traveling this spring or summer? Yes if my dad happens to be home at that time of the year. Do you know anyone who is colorblind? I don’t think so. Have you ever been a teacher's pet? Ugh no. I stay away from that particular spotlight. What is your absolute favorite hobby? Exploring museums and other cultural sites :) I also love watching movies. How many times a day do you brush your teeth? Once. Twice at most. Ever been to a tanning bed before? No. I have no use for one and I don’t even know how to operate them, and I’ve seen the tanning bed part from Final Destination 3 enough times to know not to mess with them haha. Are you satisfied with your financial stability? I’m alright with my parents’ financial stability. Who is your favorite actor/actress? Kristen Stewart. I also like Kate Winslet but she’s in my shit list for now because she defended Woody Allen.

Are your nails painted? They aren’t. What's the meanest thing you've ever said to someone? When I was a kid, around 9, I used to tell my siblings all the time that I wish they were never born and that I were an only child instead, since I was always fighting with them for attention. I wasn’t raised a brat and I hate that I ever said that, and it’s really because of the environment I was raised in. I heard those words from my relatives and other people, and I just mimicked it because I thought it was an alright thing to say. Do you ever accidentally talk to inanimate objects? Yeah I say sorry ALL THE TIME to inanimate objects I bump into. What's your favorite flavor of ice cream? Cookies and cream and any flavor with an unusual concept. I tried spicy chocolate ice cream before, best thing ever. Have you ever kissed someone of the same gender? I would prefer to kiss somone of the same gender. Do you receive any hate mail? No. I got hate stuff on my Ask.fm once and since I don’t tolerate negativity on any of my social media, I went ahead and deleted my profile altogether. Have you ever sent a letter in the mail? Nope. If you could, would you have a pen pal? That seems sweet, but no. What color are the pants you're wearing? My shorts are blue. Have you ever had a stalker? I haven’t. What is your life philosophy? People don’t have to be blood to be family. Who last sent you a goodnight text message? My girlfriend. Do you own any clothes that are your favorite color? I have lots of black clothes; but as much as I love pastel pink, I have nothing of that color. Have you ever been in a hot tub before? Of course. What's your favorite comedy movie? White Chicks hahahahahahah.

#survey #surveys

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xiumin-on-this-shit · 7 years

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All My Idols Ch 32: The Things I Do For You

This is for the armies following me! I probably spelled something wrong but I’m tired so if something is really wrong please tell me and I’ll deal with it later. Enjoy and good night! And if anyone is curious, the story about going to the concert is true!

This is a horrible idea, I think to myself standing outside the new Bighit building, a duffle bag hanging off my shoulder. But I force my feet forward until I’m wandering the halls in search of one of the occupied practice rooms. It doesn’t take very long to find the noisy group of boys jumping around eagerly, barely trying to dance but they do the foot steps perfectly based on muscle memory at this point. I standing in the doorway doing the foot motions I know to the crazy baepsae dance. As the end comes closer the loser of rock paper scissors should be stepping forward to do their punishment dance. It’s Jungkook who looks about ready to bust out his normal silly dance when he notices me and beams. It only takes him a second to rush over to me and pull me into the center of the dance circle and begins spinning me around.

I can’t help but laugh as the giant boy spins me until his legs can’t hold him up anymore and topples to the ground, pulling me with him. We are dying while the others try to pull us a part. The young man and I both reluctantly release each other, allowing me to greet al the others.

“Good to see you found your way okay,” Namjoon gives me a strong hug.

“How are you feeling after your first performance?” Hobi wonders.

“My first performance? Who the hell cares about that? You guys are going to the Billboard Awards this week! That is freaking amazing!” I beam at them. The group of boys blush. “I wish I could go with to support you guys!”

Jimin gives me the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on his pretty face, “Can you?”

I shouldn’t have said that, now all of them are doing it, “You guys I have work, I’m sorry for even suggesting it.”

“Noona, don’t apologize, we completely understand. But don’t you ever want to go back to America? Even to visit?” Tae plops down on the floor next to me.

“Sure, there are a few places I would like to return to but I’m in no rush to go back. I have everything I need here. Next tour I’ll tag along for a few concerts, I’ll show you some great places I’ve been.”

Yoongi strokes my head, “I can’t wait.”

“So Joonie, have you thought about what you are going to say during your acceptance speech?”

The leader shrugs, “How can you be so sure we will need one? We are up against some great artists.”

I scoff, “You are kidding right? Have you looked at the polls? You guys are killing it! Yes you are up against some great artists but you are great too you know. You guys have worked so hard, it’s time the other side of the world started realizing it.”

“Our princess is so sweet,” Jin basically throws himself at me, forcing my back on to my back with the older on top.

“Hyung get off,” Jimin whines.

“I thought we were dancing?” Hobi gently kicks the older, who now has his arms wrapped around me in strong hug.

He mumbles a quiet thank you before attempting to move away but I pull him back into a just as tight hug. The others are confused by our sudden very lovey behavior but when Jin and I stand up they seem to brush it off. I roll my shoulders and stretch a bit, “What are we doing first?”

“Well you seem to be a fan up baepsae, should we try that first?” Kookie offers with a sly smirk.

“Yes! I make no promises that I will do it well this first round. Who should I copy?”

They hum but Hobi asks, “Who do you want to follow?”

“I usually copy Kookie,” I point to the youngest who is smirking even more, making me almost regret my honesty.

“Great! Come on Noona! Hyung! Start the song!” He grabs my hand and drags me to his starting place.

“Shouldn’t we break it down a bit for her first?” Joonie suggests.

“Let’s just jump in and see what she knows first, than we can go back and correct what we need to fix,” Hobi counters.

“It’ll be fine Joonie, I got this,” I mostly lie.

The boys look a bit uncertain but play the music nonetheless. I stand in Jungkook’s shadow at first, confused on exactly we are doing that but the minute we begin I’m being twirled in front, staring myself down in the mirror. So I try to focus on the moves and less on where I should be headed, with Kookie behind me I can’t really follow him. The boy just pulls me along by my hips, or waist, or just my belt loop, to say it was driving me insane wouldn’t do my feelings justice. I kick my legs up, expecting Kookie to stay a few feet behind me so he could do the moves himself but instead he is at most a foot away, as if he is just there to watch and escort me around.

I try to distance myself from the boy a bit, swinging around with the others, purposefully going the wrong direction but he is always there pulling me back. God this kid is driving me crazy. Though it would be a lie to say I’m not enjoying it. His eyes scan every inch of me during body rolls and hip thrusts, half way through the song someone stops it. We all freeze to see Yoongi standing by the speakers with a scowl on his face.

“Jungkook if you aren’t dancing you are out, Charlie can just dance in your place,” The older man decides.

“But Hyung.”

“Out!” Jungkook pouts but goes to sit on the floor facing us, Yoongi starts the song over and I find myself back where we began. I’m spinning around on my own this time, bouncing around, waving my legs like an idiot but Kookie seems to be enjoying it. I even catch the others staring during my little dance with Hobi and Jimin, hoping and praying I can do it half as well as Kookie, going from cute little bunny hop to hip thrusts without much in between.

Tae whistles and yells encouraging words, I send a wink his way. Being his normal ridiculous self, he pretends to faint, distracting me from whatever I’m supposed to do next. His scrunches as he laughs at himself, that face just melts my heart, I find myself forgetting the dance and lunching at him. My arms around his neck, legs around his waist in a koala hug that the other seems to enjoy.

“What is up with everyone being so clingy today,” Yoongi whines as he pulls me away from Tae into a hug of his own.

“You know why,” Jimin snaps coming to join our little group.

I cock my head, “I don’t, I would like to be informed.”

Namjoon sighs, “We are nervous about next week and you calm us down.”

“What?”

Jimin weasels his way pass Yoongi’s arms and rests his head on my shoulder, “You calm us down. You make us feel like nothing could ever bring us down, like we are the most amazing thing you have ever seen.”

I wiggle out of their embraces and clap my hands together, “Everyone sit your ass down, we apparently need to have a talk.” The are confused but obey my command, forming a little group on the floor in front of me. “Okay, let me just clear this up for all of you. You guys are amazing. Without any doubt I can say that. I love you guys so much, both as my friends and as idols. You guys have no idea how much I loved and respected you back when I was just fan. I was living with my grandparents one summer in another state when I found out you guys were going to be on tour in Chicago, which happened to be 8 hours away. So you know what I said? I said I wasn’t going to go, I worked and my family would murder me for even trying to go when I had a flight out of the country the morning after the concert. You know what I really did? Three days before the concert I was like fuck it! Bought a ticket for me and the one other Kpop fan in the state, lied to my family, and drove eight hours to see your concert, just your concert. The minute you finished we got back in the car and drove home, barely made it to the airport. We almost died on the way home, I should not have driven 16 hours in less than 24 with no sleep but oh my fucking god guys… it was worth it! You guys killed it! It was one of the best moments of my life! So don’t you ever say that you aren’t amazing! I almost died for you! That is how much I believe it you!”

They all stared at me for a moment, kind of dumbstruck by the rush of words out of my mouth. Jin stands up, his eyes narrowed, not the reaction I am expecting, “You did fucking what? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

“Oppa, I think you are missing the point,” I try to counter but the others come up and agree.

“That is ridiculous! Charlie what would we have done if something had happen to you?” Hobi worries.

“You guys didn’t know me at the time, remember?” I chime. “Also in case you guys forgot I also jumped on a plane to come here after planning for like a few weeks.”

“Now you are missing the point! Thank you for doing that to see us but don’t ever do that shit again!”

I roll my eyes at them, “I would do it again in a heart beat.”

“No!” Joonie scolds, “Why do that when you can literally call us and we will go through hell to get to you?”

“For the thrill,” I muse. “And of course for you guys. I would cross a country for you guys. You don’t understand how much you mean to me. Now I thought we were here to dance, Kookie, show me how to do that thing from Blood, Sweat, and Tears. Up, up, boys lets do this!”

Two hours later I would say I’m a professional at BTS dances, or at least I’m not just flailing my arms anymore. Also, I can successfully do Kookie’s weird push up, body roll thing from blood, sweat, and tears, so I would say today was a great day. The others are tired and lying on the practice room floor when I decide it is time for me to go. After a lot of hugs and whining Namjoon is walking me out. At the front door of the building I turn to my escort and hug him tight.

“You know you don’t need to worry right? You guys are going to be amazing. Just don’t stress okay? You are so smart, I wish I was half as smart as you, but remember you don’t need to know every single English word. I don’t. So if things are hard to understand don’t panic, just ask, okay?”

He sighs, “If anyone needs to stop worrying, it’s you. Your little story gave me a boost in confidence, I know we got this.”

“If you need to practice your speech you know where to find me,” I hum with a big smile. Namjoon surprises me by cupping my cheeks, being so tall he towards over me, and I feel like we are in a drama.

His thumbs caress my cheeks softly, “I feel like I don’t tell you enough how much I appreciate you. Thank you so much for everything you do.” He kisses my forehead with those soft lips before stepping away, taking his warmth with him.

My face flushes, “Joonie.”

“Good night Noona, sleep tight,” Once again he kisses me, on the cheek this time. He goes back into the building, his ears just beginning to turn pink. I’m so thankful for my tan skin because I would be blushing so bad right now. I’m used to people kissing my head, checking me out, hugging me, holding me, but I don’t something felt so different with that. My god, I’m still blushing.

The Night Of The BBMA (I may be wrong on times but I believe it was like seven or eight in the morning when they started in Korea)

“Do we really need to make a big thing about it?” Seungri whines next to me.

“You can go,” Youngbae and I say together.

“Free up some spots,” Youngbae glares from where he sits on the other couch with Dae and Seunghyun. Jiyong is on my other side, I’m resting my head on his shoulder, his arm is around mine, Seungri is leaning back so his basically on top of me. We have been watching this for what feels like forever, the performances are cool but after being to so many Korean award shows and concerts it’s much less exciting. I root for the few American artists I still listen to but I’m not very up to date on everyone. But it is going to be worth it to see those dumbstruck faces of the people who don’t know the amzing artists who are on the other side of the world accept the award they deserve. My fingers run through Ri’s hair as he munches on popcorn. He feeds me a couple, the others glare at the interaction.

“When can we turn this off?” Seunghyun yawns.

“When they come on stage,” I scowl at him, “You can go to sleep you know.”

“Not after you woke me up at seven in the god damn morning on my day off,” He snaps back, so cranky.

“I made you breakfast, doesn’t that count for something.”

He sighs, “Yes, I’m sorry, it’s early.”

“Hyung it’s like eleven now,” Ri points out.

“Just shut up,” He growls back.

“I think it’s happening,” Youngbae points out excitedly, though I think it be because it means he can go back to sleep. I pop up in my seat and jump right to my feet to stand only a few feet from the TV. They don’t complain, just let me do what I want. My heart is racing when the nominees are listed, even though I know they are going to win I can’t help but shake with nervousness. When the speakers open the card and BTS’s name pops up I’m screaming. Literally screaming with joy to the point Seunghyun throws a pillow at me. I peek over my shoulders to see them pouting, as happy as they are about BTS winning they still don’t like when I’m fan girling over other people. But for now they can deal with it.

They all go up, looking damn near sinful in their suits, grinning ear to ear like the idiots they are. I’m bouncing on my toes as the go to the stage and accept their award. Of course Namjoon does all the speaking, talking about how grateful they are to be there and how amazing their fans are. I’m on the verge of tears when they start walking away but Namjoon stops back at the mic and smiles at the camera.

“One last person I need to mention, our number one fan, our princess Charlotte. We love you,” With that he winks at the camera, the other members hold up hearts and blow kisses. I’m dying. I’m actually on the floor dying. I’m kicking my legs, rolling on the ground in a fit of giggles. My heart is freaking out in my chest, I can’t believe this. Moments like this my life becomes surreal, my everyday life feels like a fairytale in its’ self but now I feel like I fell down the hole to wonderland.

“Those boys have death wish,” Seungri pouts.

“They can’t just confess like that on international television!” Jiyong joins in.

I smirk at him, “They just did!”

After one more fan girl scream Jiyong rolls his eyes, wraps his robe around him and shuffles back to bed, mumbling under his breath, “I tell you I love you everyday.”

“And I scream a little bit inside every time,” I wink at the green haired man.

#bts #bts win #bts bbmas #bbma #jungkook #rap monster #nam joon #j-hope #jin #jimin #Yoongi #suga #taehyung #big bang #GD #daesung #top #seungri #taeyang #all my idols #kpop fluff #bts fluff

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