#the ending of this has no business being that funny about the tresses thing

[rarephloxes]

@lucienvanserraweek, free day!

I’m so happy to announce that this is a collab with my dear friend @ratabrasileira!!! Go show the beautiful drawing she did some love!!

rating: G

words: 2.2k

Elain searches the woods for flowers and finds more than she ever expected. Sleeping Beauty Au

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Elain left the cottage barefooted, the soft cushion of the grass comfortable and well known to her feet. The familiar and gratifying feeling of calm earth beneath her, steady and grounding, more than enough reason to forego any sort of shoes.

Roses, Feyre had chanted, the dreamy look in her sister’s eyes persisting ever since her chance encounter with a newcomer guard at the town square, the prettiest ones you can find, please?

Elain had not the courage to tell her younger sister that she had picked fresh flowers just the day before, funny-shaped pink blooms Elain found at the lip of the stream near the border.

So, she had picked her basket - the one Nesta had gifted her on her last birthday, handmade by her older sister herself; a beautiful, intricate thing done with the hard-earned love of the hardest Archeron - and left, a spring to her step and a tune brimming in her throat.

The woods, the townspeople said, were older than the village by unaccounted years, and therefore filled with deep, wondrous and dangerous magic.

Elain, as well as her sisters, was orphaned too soon. A wasting sickness that had scourged their village had taken away both of her parents, one after the other, leaving only a nearly of age Nesta, a doe-eyed Elain, and a tear-stained Feyre.

Many years had passed since, the nebulous, all-consuming pain of the absence of their parents soothed by time. Despite her grieving, it never escaped Elain’s thoughts how lucky she was to have such wonderful people in her life: her kind neighbors; the quaint, energized people of the village, who never missed a chance for celebration; the old grouch at the square who made wooden figures just as her father once had; Feyre’s laugh, her creativity and Nesta’s attentive strength.

The woods, magical and mysterious, were a source of peace in Elain’s little life, too. A balm made of soft sunlight, fresh, perfumed breeze, and the singing quietness of wildlife.

She walked, shawl hanging on her elbows to ward off the slightest of spring chills. Elain sang to her heart’s content, a lively lyric dancing on her tongue and bouncing on the leaves of the tallest of trees, her heart soaring with each note she presented to her loved woodland.

With Feyre’s wishes in mind, Elain followed a path towards a grove, the humidity at her destination perfect for the birth of deep pink roses which best complimented Feyre’s complexion.

She crossed the sturdy old bridge that allowed passage over the river, her cottage’s mill no longer audible from where she stood.

“Hello, Mister,” Elain greeted the white, wild bunny, its twitching mustache smelling the air twice before hurrying on fast jumps towards her, a cupped palm of berries awaiting the animal’s eager mouth, allowing her to scratch its head “You’re rather famished this morning, aren’t you?” she asked. The bunny agreed with what seemed like and affirmative ear twitch before her furry friend scampered away to a nearby bush.

Then, singing about poets and kings, Elain continued her path through the meandering trees, her basket filling with dark, juicy berries - a few of them already staining her lips red - and multicolored flowers.

A bold, red little bird landed on Elain’s extended finger and enchantingly sung with her. Its melodic chirping lacing and harmonizing to the girl’s sweet voice, their impromptu duet accompanied by the rustling leaves and the gurgling stream.

How wonderful Elain felt, surrounded by nature, connecting to the air around her as if it had birthed her itself, offering it her voice. Respectfully reaping the charming flora, she found on her way, breathing their scent, befriending the forest animals, and spinning on the tip of her toes on the soft soil.

As she stopped dancing, her skirts still swishing around her calves from the last of her twirls, Elain noticed a magnificent shrub of the blooms she had braved the woods for, jewel-bright pink petals shining under sunbeams, as if the tress had organized themselves to create a spot of light for such earthly beauty.

Right then, the strangest of things happened.

With her heart jumping to her throat, beating frenetically against her ribs, Elain noticed a beautiful horse. Saddled, with a gleaming chestnut coat, dark eyes downcast, calmly munching on the grass near its hooves.

It wasn’t unheard of, horses in the woods, wild or otherwise, they were not far from the main road, but that was not what made Elain’s skin prickle with alertness.

A well-taken care horse as such must have a rider nearby.

“Samson,” called a male voice “There’s not much left to go.” The horse shuffled his legs, huffing before turning its nose away, back onto the moss.

“There will be carrots,” the voice tried again, with a tone of simulated indifference.

Caught like a fish on a hook, the horse’s great neck snapped up, looking at its rider, as if expecting the vegetable all at once. Stoic as the pair of them seemed, Elain had the impression Samson was kindly spoiled.

Elain, who could hear the rich sound of the stranger’s voice, had not yet distinguished his form in the shade beyond the grove she entered, but following the stallion’s gaze she finally sighted him.

Oh, but what a beautiful man he was.

Stranger was tall and broad-shouldered, with an old, silvery scar marking the side of his face, slitting his brow and narrowly missing his eye - which seemed to be a disconcerting shade of brown. He had the most vibrant shade of red hair she has ever seen, dark like autumn leaves and silky like water.

He was the most beautiful human she has ever seen.

Stranger, however, had yet to notice her.

And as handsome as he was, Elain was clever enough to realize that a quick, silent escape was the safest option.

Slowly, she walked one step back.

The crunch of the branch beneath her foot echoed loudly, too loudly to be confounded by an innocuous wildlife sound.

Elain couldn't raise her eyes to look at him, attention glued to the sword holstered at his hip.

“Be not afraid, lady. I’ll take my leave in a moment,” Stranger said in a placating tone, palms deliberately upraised for her benefit.

The woods turned to music at the exact moment their eyes met.

A world-altering spark of recognition lighted in her mind.

A stranger in the woods, merry music, dancing fireflies, and singing birds, trees being led by the wind as if women in a ballroom, her vision spinning, and her body lighting up like fireworks. A hand on her waist, a choreography her body must have been made for performing, such ease it was to allow it to guide her away.

Dreams, she remembered, wonderful dreams which always kept her under her covers for a moment too long, always ending way too soon, leaving longing as a dent in her pillow.

Now he was right in front of her.

“I know you,” she whispered, words slipping through her lips like birds escaping a cage, her hands shaking.

He was dressed in well-made traveling clothes, dark pants, finely done knee-length boots she had only ever glanced upon whenever wealthier people crossed the town to check on their local businesses, but those deftly dressed gentlemen couldn’t have looked better than the man even with the priciest of fineries. Elain resisted the urge to press her hands to her cheeks, heated and pink from noticing Stranger only wore a thin, unruffled poet’s shirt, - his cape and hat using the nearby trees as hangers - its open laces revealing golden skin and wisps of red hair.

Elain had never felt self-conscious of her looks or clothes, the townspeople dressing similarly to her (even if Elain herself had one of the best sewing hands in their village). Her current outfit was a simple corset with boning made out of prepped hedgehog spikes, the plain fabric embellished with neat seams and picturesque figures Elain had stitched herself; a brown, light skirt - easy to wash and easier to hide soil stains - and, what now she deemed absurd due to the grime on her nails, no slippers.

“And I, you,” he answered as in a daze, hands falling limply at his sides.

“Do you hear it?” Elain made her voice firm, lifting he chin but with her knees slightly bent, ready to run.

“Yes, my lady,” he took a step, then two, until a stretch of his arm would land his hand on her shoulder.

But he didn’t move to touch her.

Elain swallowed, the breeze cooling her body, eyes downcast, legs now motionless and nearly failing her.

“Why won’t you let me see your eyes, my lady?” She couldn’t be sure, for she knew him not, but there was pleading in his tone.

“I’m afraid, my lord, that if I look at you, I’ll awake and leave this dream,” she whispered, surprised, but not fearful, of her words. “And you’ll fly away from my grasp,”

Suddenly shy of her newly found boldness, she turned her back to him.

“I’m-" She started, voice small.

“No, please.” Elain saw a shadow over her shoulder but wouldn’t dare to guess. “Forgive me for my requests, my lady, you need not give me anything, I-”

He sounded... embarrassed.

She found it endearing.

The song of the woods shifted to a village rhythm she knew well.

“Dance with me,” he called.

A gasp fell freely from her mouth, the ghost of a touch on her hand.

Slowly, she turned back to face him and realized her mistake.

His eyes were not brown, but a vibrant russet shade, complimenting his hair better. Elain had heard only the continent bred humans with the most varied and colorful bodies.

“I forgive you,” she mouthed, her throat no longer functional.

There were callouses on his palms if from holding reins or sword fighting, she couldn’t determine, but they were so gentle against her skin she barely put any mind to it.

A blast of sound surrounded them, as if the song recognized their meeting, rejoicing in their movements, magnifying their volume to ensconce the pair of them in a cloud of magic. Elain allowed her stranger to spin and lead her in the dance of her dreams.

She couldn’t help to laugh and smile and giggle as they swayed in impossibly rehearsed arrangements, his wide, carefree, delighted grin pouring sunshine into her chest.

Time turned to a growing bloom, following the natural, slow, unpreoccupied pace of life. A hundred dances thrummed with them while the small pointer of the square clock circled once.

At that time, the resounding, deep clang of the church’s bell chiming twelve times broke through the magic steering the couple.

Elain ceased her steps, the pang of reality downing on her face, awareness washing the enchanted fog in her mind.

She let go of Stranger’s hand, the melodies dimming to a quiet hum, tempting her as a distance siren song,

“I must go,” she told him, yet unable to move.

“So soon?” he asked earnestly, arms lovingly tightening around her waist, not caging, only a gentle embrace.

“Oh, please, I must have my leave. Your lordship certainly has somewhere to be. I don’t even know what to call you-“ she babbled in a rush.

Stranger pressed his nose to the sliver of skin above her neck line, as if he couldn’t help himself, as if she were a saint and he a devotee. Elain lost the breath in her lungs, head lulling back, her words cutting themselves short.

“It’s yours,” his lips brushed the slope of her neck, “My name, my heart, my soul. It’s all yours. I’m Luc-“

Hurriedly, Elain lifted his head and pressed her pointer and middle finger to his mouth, “You must not tell me your name,”

“I heard your voice,” he admitted, a portrait of hope in his face, gently grasping her wrist “I deviated from the road to look for the angel whose song I was lucky to listen. But the singing stopped, as it was never there in the first place,”

“The woods have a mind of their own” she whispered to herself, eyes roaming around as if searching.

“I found you once I let Samson rest for a moment,” he continued, uninterrupted, as though afraid she would vanish in a poof of light.

“Please, my lady. Can’t you see? One is never to deny a gift from the Gods,”

“Are you a believer, Stranger?”

“Now, I am,” he said, his gaze unfaltering, “Will you allow me to reveal my name to your Ladyship?”

“I’m no lady,” she said, taking her hand from the warmth of his, regretting it immediately, “I must have my leave,” How would she explain her tardiness to Nesta? Oh, how reckless she was acting.

“At least allow me to take you to your home, my lady,”

Elain knew deep in her gut as clearly as she knew the color of the sky and the name of her favorite flowers that he would never hurt her.

But her oldest sister warning echoed in her conscience, coiling its limbs around her, refraining her voice.

The universe, it seemed, understood her decision.

Samson let out a loud neigh, attracting her love’s attention for just long enough.

“I’ll see you in my dreams,” she promised as he turned around to watch his horse.

And ran away, deep into the woods.

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Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes and comments make my day.

Special thanks to @moononastring and @silvergriff for hosting this awesome event, @separatist-apologist for being the kindest and most considerate beta reader I could ever hope for.

I’m building a tag list! If you want to keep up with my writing, let me know :))

I may or may not continue this? I really want to mesh this with a bunch of other ideas I have on my notes!!

[deepdarkdelights]

Content Tag Game!

Thank you @yoongsisbae for tagging me! I love Handshakes of a Lifetime, by the way, it feeds my need for OT7 wonderfully 😫💜

1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?

Oh boy, okay: Twilight, Black Butler, Attack on Titan, My Hero Academia, Teen Wolf, Young Justice, Batman Arkham Knight (video game), Marvel, Once Upon A Time, Narnia, Doctor Who, Rise of The Guardians, HTTYD, Fable (video game series), Percy Jackson

2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?

BTS 💜

3. how long have you been writing?

Okay, this is kind of weird, I wrote my first fanfiction when I was nine but never published it, when I was twelve I began posting to Quotev and Wattpad so I would say...eight years? I refuse to look back at either accounts because my writing was horrendous...I was a child.

4. on which platforms do you post your stories?

At this point in time, Tumblr and ao3.

5. what is your favorite genre to write?

Dark / Yandere / Horror. Anything that would make you freaked out I guess 😅

6. are you a pantser or a planner?

Uh, a bit of both? I usually have an idea of what I want to happen in a story so I have a vague outline, but as I am writing I tend to add more things and branch out from the plan. When I first started writing and posting to Tumblr, I used automatic writing and was a full-fledged pantser.

7. one-shot or multi-chapter?

If I had to choose, one shot. I feel less tied down and not as pressured to write when it comes to a one-shot. I would like to make a multi-chapter story one day though!

8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?

I like usually something longer, so anywhere from 6-10k is good for me.

9. what is your longest published story? is it complete?

Actually, 10 Seconds is my longest story because it has multiple chapters. At this point in time, it is 38,250k.

10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?

Hmmmmm, probably Predator. It was my first fic after the end of The Bouquet Series and I got to flex more of my creativity and relax with it. It was fun to play with more classic horror tropes as well.

11. favorite request you’ve written and why?

I don't really take requests, I did ask for help in writing Tae's fic for The Bouquet Series and I had two asks that suggested an actor element and that was how Cut was made! So, that 😂

12. are there reoccurring themes in your stories?

Hm, the concept of time is rather prevalent in a lot of my fics now that I think about it. Weather and location are reoccurring, I like to write scenes in forests or scenes with rain. I think another common theme is not to trust grandmothers as funny as that is, in two fics we have had grandmas with bad intentions! Also, references to good and evil, Hades and Persephone, Adam and Eve, temptation, as well as predator and prey dynamics.

13. current number of wips?

Three! One is currently being written, and the other two are in the planning phases.

14. three things you have noticed about your own writing?

(1) It's fucking long 😂. I always go in with a plan to write something shorter, 8k max, and I always end with a fucking monster of a story. I also tend to overexplain, I think. (2) A lot of my writing is describing an action, facial expressions, scenes, and inner monologue. I think that is my way of trying to immerse readers or make them see my exact vision. But it can be pretty tedious and probably boring to read. I need more dialogue too, I feel like I spend too much time showing instead of telling. (3) Sometimes I think I sound like a high and mighty asshole like I am trying too hard to be profound or something so I try to dial it back a bit.

15. a quote you like from a published story.

"He could tell she had injured her head as well, scarlet drops of blood had streamed down the contours of her face and a pool of blood had formed beneath her sprawled tresses. She looked like she had a crimson halo beneath her head, carving its way into the soft, white snow under her. She was ethereal, like an angel that he had found just after they had been dropped from heaven. Forever resting, forever beautiful, and forever young." (The Stranger)

16. a quote from an unpublished story.

"Loving you has been the one pain I always want to endure. Being with you sets my heart on fire, it makes my muscles ache, it makes my lungs burn, and everything so much more complicated. But it’s the best brand of pain I could ask for.”

17. a space for you to say something to your readers.

Hi! I hope you enjoyed learning more about me and my writing if you stopped by and read this! I have been having a tough time writing as of late, but doing little things like this has made me very happy and has made me want to write more often! I am still working on my next fic, progress is going a little slower though. School starts soon too and I am going to be working two jobs and hopefully going back to cheerleading. So let's spend as much time together as we can before I get busy again! I am still aiming to write during the school year so wish me luck! Thank you for reading 💜

I tag: @chummywchimmy @chimchimsauce @chaoticpuff17 @sinning-on-a-sunday @celestial-moonlight @unfurlingtwinklingstarx @scribblemetaetwo

[popculturebuffet]

House of Mouse: The Stolen Cartoons Review (Patreon Review)

Hello all you happy people! It’s Patreon Review Time. Since my 5 dollar or higherr patreons get 1 review a month, Kevin my 10 dollar patreon is using one of his to celebrate the 20th anniversary of House of Mouse by having me review a random episode a month. And for this month we’re going all the way back to the start with The Stolen Cartoons!

I already introed house of mouse back when I reviewed “The Three Cablleros” episode but for a refresher: House of Mouse is a 2001 cartoon about Mickey and Co running a club. Mickey is host, Minnie plans the show and runs the books, Donald tends to the VIP”s and co owns the club with Mickey, Goofy is head waiter,  Daisy runs guest services, Horace is technical support, Clarabelle is a gossip monger with no clear actual job, and Max is Valet. The show was used to repackage shorts from the short lived show Mickey mouseworks, using the club setting as a wraparound and said club was attentend by all the various characters from the disney canon. It’s as awesome as it sounds. 

The voice cast, which I didn’t intro thorughly last time, was equally awesome with all the actors for the characters at the time, all legends in the industry. Wayne Allwine as Mickey,who played the character from the late 70′s to his death, Russi Taylor as Minnie and the Triplets, who did the same and was also married to wayne, Tony Anselmo, who should be thorughly familiar to readers of this blog and donald duck fans as his voice since Ducktales, Voice Actress Tress Macneile as Daisy, likewise,  Jason Marsden as Max and Voice Acting Legend Jim Cummings as Pete. All except Allweine i’ve profieled before on this blog in various other series, but Wayne, outisde of a very minor role in black cauldron, only voiced Mickey, and to me is the defntiive voice for the guy, though Chris is getting close. 

The other notable members of the cast i havent’ covered are April Winchell, who while tremendous, I will save for an episode Clarabelle is actually in more, and Bill Farmer. I have a great amount of Love for Bill and like everyone here, he was a vertran of the industry by the time he showed up in this series. His defining roll far and away is goofy, who was, to my delighted surprise his FIRST voice audition, having studided PInto Colving’s voice well to the point you can barely tell the difference between the two, and having inherited the roll around the same time as Russi and Tony. He’s the voice of Goofy I and most kids from the 80′s onward have grown up with and is the best at the roll by far, having chances for depth and nuance Pinto wasn’t allowed with the Goofy Movies and other works. IN general he’s just THE goofy to me. He’s also the voice of horace and pluto, and currently voices Hop Pop in Amphibia which is super noteworthy as looking at his filmography like a lot of the sensational 6′s va’s he’s only voiced goofy or Pluto for most of his career. But hey like Tony, if you only do one charcter might as well be the fucking best at it. He also has a show on Disney Plus with him and dogs I need to watch yesterday. 

So with our cast out of the way, and not much history to go into, join me after the cut and we’ll see how House of Mouse got it’s start and if it was a good one. 

Breaking from my usual format for House of Mouse and doing the shorts as they come up int he main story for two reasons: The first is that the shorts are integral to the plot and the second is that there’s way more main story this time around than usual, likely to properly set things up. 

So we open at the House of Mouse with Mickey Adressing the club and showing off the general premise of this being a club for all of the various heroes and villains of disney to hang out and what not. He also presents the house rules which are no smoking (Fair and should’ve always been a thing), no villianous schemes and no eating the other guests, all helpfully demonstrated as he says them. We also get to see the others in action: Minnie handling the schedule and the crew, Donald welcoming the guests, and Daisy running the desk and getitng brainwashed by Jafar into giving him a table. Max also is providing his job as Valet which surprised me because I genuinely thought he didn’t join the cast till season 2.. despite the fact he’s right there in the credits.. which are the same for ALL THREE SEASONS. 

So things are going well.. so naturally that’s when Pete shows up to try and ruin things. Look he’s having a hard time after the divorce.. several years ago. Okay maybe he’s always just been a dick and that’s why he’s divorced in the first place. Point is he naturally wants to shut the club down, boot them out, and wreck up the place like any natural cartoon villian or real estate scum bag landlord. Pete just happens to be both because he can multitask. .and because it’s basically the same thing you just have to be animated for one of them.  Thankfully whoever the previous Landlord was, i’m going with Shere Kahn given the setting, his roll in tailspin and the fact the obvious candidate, scrooge, would make no sense here given a later episode where he guest stars, wrote into the contract that as long as the show goes on, they can stay in business. Pete stews over this and naturally plans to stop the show while Minnie, in a cute bit, comforts a nervous mickey and just tells him to play some cartoons. So...

Pluto Gets the Paper: Wet Cement and Donald’s Dynamite: Magic Act I”m covering both of these at once. But as I said the animated shorts this time are one big sized one and two of the shorter ones to make more room for the story. Which is fair: this is the first episode, and thus needs to set up the premise. The series isn’t story driven but your first episode should still feel like one, ease you into the world and get you situated and THEN can do the normal format. It’s also in the episode’s favor as the heavier story focus meant a BETTER story than most season 1 episodes, on par with the two season 3 episodes i’ve covered so far. 

The shorts themselves are fine. So far this is the only Pluto Short i’ve liked as it has a neat enough gaga: Pluto has to get the paper in wet cement. Why did the paperboy throw it in wet cement instead of in the driveway, I dunno but given this short is well.. short and just meant to deliver on some quick gags, I’m not going to question it. It’s the first Pluto short i’ve covered without any dog sexual harassment, i’m not looking a gift dog in the mouth. 

The other short short played right after is part of a series where Donald ends up trying to get rid of a round bomb that shows up wherever he is....

It’s pretty damn funny, though being a huge Donald fan i’m obviously biased, but even removing my donald duck brand sunglasses, I will concede this was objectively fun.

But the cartoons stop as, true to the title, they’ve gone missing! Horace is found tied up, the cartoons are gone and Pete is obviously responsible. and hilariously so as the rope has his name on it and he says “I don’t know horace horsecollar” There are a LOT of good gags in this one, i’m leaving a lot out for time’s sake. 

So Mickey and Minnie come up with a plan: Mickey sends the.. Quackstreet Boys.... to stall. Now it may shock you but I actually LIKE the backstreet boys. Not to an extreme amount but I did grow up with them, and even now find their music pretty damn good. No my issue is this parody is weak, mostly running entirely on the title pun. The most I can give them credit for is using the outfits from their second album cover. No I wasn’t kidding I did grow up with them. You saw that everywhere so even if I didn’t enjoy their music then and now, i’d know it. But it just feels really weak, like they had no idea what to DO with the boys and instead just slapped them in a lame parody. It dosen’t help i’m not a fan of the classic version of the boys outside of the comics, as I feel later productions should’ve had them actually be distinct, and it took until 2017 to pull that off with the reboot, something I fear may be undone in future productions. Please.. don’t.. you can have Cristina Vee voice them all, I don’t care about the voice I just want to be able to tell them a apart. So yeah I don’t like it but it dosen’t drag the episode down. Just something I wanted to have a moan about. 

So they split up: Mickey, Minnie and Goofy go to shoot a cartoon while Donald runs the club. Naturally he rebrands.. but what really is telling is everyone boos him when he tries to mc.. just for not being Mickey. While Donald does have a massive inferiority complex here, desperately wanting to one up mickey.. with moments like this it’s hard not to see why> He’s JUST as big a star, just as talented , maybe not as nice but just as likeable. He even co-owns the club. But ironically only Mickey Himself, and Daisy of Course, treat him like an equal. To everyone else it’s Mickey’s world and he’s just the sidekick. It’s no wonder he spend sthe entire show desperately trying to outdo mickey: he doesn’t hate the guy, even if he wouldn’t admit it.. but he just wants to be loved too. Sure it’s part ego.

Mickey does return though with the new cartoon. And our only sizeable one so. 

Hickory Dickory Mickey: This is a REALLY good one with a simple enough premise; Goofy wants Mickey to take him to the airport at 6am tomorrow.. which Mickey balks at. 

Seriously i’ve woken up at 3-4am to go to the airport or on road trips. Waking up at 5:30 is pretty standard. Goofy also has good reason to ask as he once BROKE MICKEY OUT OF JAIL. And as seen up top the flashback is done in black and white AND with their old models. I just.. love everything about this and it had to have taken extra effort to make new models for the old models and thus extra money for a quick joke. So kudos best part of the episode. But with his hands tied Mickey is forced to take him and Goofy leaves him his clock which won’t stop ticking. So we get just.. nonstop good gags as Mickey tries to sleep with standouts being his trying to drown it out only to get the tick station, the tock station on the radio and the clock channel on the tv. He also tries to mail it and naturally it comes back thanks to a kangaroo when he ships it to Australia..a nd then get’s progressively batshit as he mails it to HADES (comes back in a puff of smoke) and to the 1920′s (It comes back in black and white with arms and legs). It’s just.. really damn good and I suggest seeking it out. I have liked other shorts better but this was a good one. 

Pete still gloats as they’ll need more cartoons.. only for one to fall out of his jacket and Mickey to shake the rest out. We then get a fun chase between the two, SO many good jokes, my favorite being him dressing up as a dalmation only for Cruella to take measurements, before being cornered by the three and the elephant from tarzan who throws him out.. right next to pepper-ann and her mom “Don’t touch the villian dear”. Good crossover.. and another show that like House of Mouse is not on disney plus don’t ask me why. 

So our heroes win, we get our usual sponsorship and unusually we see the guests leave, a nice bit I wish they did more. All’s well that ends well. 

Final Thoughts: This episode was fantastic. It introduces the cast well, sets up our villian, our basic premise and while only having one major cartoon, uses that as a plot point and it’s a damn good one. A fantastic start to the series and frankly the best place to start if your curious about the show. I’d like to thank Kev for sponsoring this review. If you’d like your own review you can look at comissoin details on my blog or get one guaranteed every month by becoming a 5 dollar patreon. You get one guaranteed review a month, acess to my discord server for my patreons, and to pick a short when I do birthday specials. And contributing to my patreon gets me closer to my stretch goals, even one dollar helps. Next goal not only gets reviews of the super ducktales mini series, but also a darkwing duck episode EVERY MONTH. And with the plug done, i’ll see you at the next rainbow. 

[siryaksalot]

Mink’s thorough and comprehensive list of pros and cons and stuff from the reboot after watching it all! Will contain spoilers. May update as I think of more. By the way, I’m a lifetime fan. I’m 22, so the whole time they’ve been away I’ve been here, loving the original.

PROS:

The animation. It’s great! Maybe the more neon bright colors are jarring after watching the original which is more washed out, but you get used to it. I can’t tell whether it’s Toonboom or Adobe Animate, but there’s a liiiiittle bit of sneaky puppeting of characters if you have an animators eye to look for it. And I do. When something is ESPECIALLY puppeted, I notice it but it doesn’t ruin anything. It doesn’t look cheap, it looks cost efficient. That being said if you HATE this type of animation you won’t be happy. I’m fine with it!

The character design is the big thing here. The Warners look fantastic and super sleek, all the credit to Genevieve Tsai, she’s a genius. Posing of characters is great too. It’s nice having a consistent look. Maybe you’ll miss the variety of the old 8 studios, but it’s okay.

The voices. Despite people saying Tress and Rob are older and sound different I think they sounded just the same. They were obviously well directed. It’s probably not Andrea Romano this time around but that’s okay.

Slapstick. It’s still the same, they didn’t hold back.

The music. Lovely as ever. We miss Richard Stone but it really was good either way.

The songs, lyrically, are all great! Clever songwriting I’ve come to expect.

EVERY PATB segment. I have close to no complaints about their skits. Just one, it’ll be below.

Them saying FUCK the Elmyra spinoff. Brain was busy these 22 years. That show never happened.

GOING HAM on Tucker Carlson. They absolutely tortured the guy. Fuck him.

The Warners still do their regular ol thing, go in on the jerks. I was afraid they’d be knocked around too much but no, they get control and succeed every time. Thank god.

I enjoyed Nils Niedhart coming back for a second round. The Warners have definitely tormented people more than once, it’s cool.

Seeing the inside of the tower more fleshed out! Me likey.

Yakko says sibs a lot. They know I wanted this. He also STILL does his Uhhhh. Good.

He also calls Wakko “baby bro” a few times and I 🥺🥺... gh...

Wakko and Brain saying hell. Wakko ALMOST saying motherfucker.

Yakko trying a few times to sing educational songs and Wakko and Dot having NONE of it. He gets really upset when he can’t do it, which is also hilarious

Yakko actually getting upset when no one is around to laugh at his jokes. I loved it. I’m glad this moment wasn’t dragged out as well.

CHICKEN BOO. CHICKEN FUCKIN BOO. YES IT WAS NICE TO SEE EVERYONE BUT. I LOVE CHICKEN BOO. HE IS TOP OF MY FANLIST.

The old Chubby Baby clown song playing deep and ominously over Nicklewise. LMAO

Like 15 uninterrupted seconds of Wakko without a hat. Baby. Baby boy.

Still got pretty good reference humor. A few I didn’t get, and that’s how you know it’s good LOL

The little Looney Tunes / Loonatics cameo.

CONS:

The “reboot it” song. Seriously, what happened to the voices? Rob sings ONE LINE as Yakko in the song, the rest is someone else??? And you can’t hear Dot for most of it. She’s just mouthing along I guess 🙄🙄

Adding to the previous, about 4 other people besides Jess Tress and Rob are credited for performing that song... so... hm. I don’t know which guy replaced Rob, but it’s one of them for sure.

The first episode in general was weak. Yes yes we get it, you need to be modern now. Just get to the funny skits.

Lack of Scratchy. I liked seeing him when we did but I love him... want more.

Speaking of him, his new long nose is BAD. Gives me Jewish caricature vibes. Bad.

No Slappy. I get why, you’d need Sherri and she might try to get Tom along with her. WB doesn’t want to pay Tom I GUESS.

The Cutening skit. The song sounds bad... it’s just a little weird. Tress isn’t singing it. Without the Warners on screen, you can barely tell it’s Animaniacs at all. The ending is gross. The beginning of it has some great lines, though. Hell I’m using one as my blog title now.

I dunno, the new original stuff didn’t appeal to me. I’m glad it was sparse.

SOME of the “goodnight everybodys” felt forced.

Hm... Dot’s line in the theme being changed. “Dot Has Wit”. I don’t think it was necessary. You can still say she’s cute, we all knew she was way more than her cuteness anyway! The new line throws me off for whatever reason despite being the same amount of syllables. idk, the flow is just odd.

Giving Brain backstory. It’s ... not a bad backstory persay but I feel this is a thing the original writers only have the right to do. I dunno.

The show says on MULTIPLE occasions that it’s “biting satire”. PLEASE... you don’t have to tell us. Over and over. Just make it biting and people will call it that. pointing it out feels SO forced.

Episode 6 having to be pulled because of the fuck up with Brain’s phone number. THAT is unprofessional. Did no one check??

After reflection... there may be TOO much politics. I think it should be toned down. There sure is a lot of Russian collusion jokes. 

NEUTRAL:

The Warners call each other by name a LOT more now. I dig it but maybe it’s a TEEENY bit forced? Idk

Ralph has a brown uniform. Maybe it’s more accurate to the security guards at WB?

Plotz is in a portrait, but no mention of what happened to him. Going to assume he’s dead, LMAO

The new CEO! She’s not THAT interesting but I’ll give her time. She has a name but it’s not even mentioned in the show?? Uh ...

Scratchy saying that Hello Nurse is with Doctors Without Borders now. Good excuse. Good for her.

Saying Yakko can’t do math!! Did y’all see the multiplication song? ok this is a nitpick LMAOOO it’s just silly.

...The anime segment. It’s cool animation, I love Studio Yotta, but idk how to feel. It’s a little much.

The other new lines in the theme. They’re alright, maybe a bit too specific to fit the whole show, but it’s whatever. The conservatives will be mad and THAT makes me happy. 😋😋

The human designs are ugly but they’re definitely supposed to be. The were in the original show quite a bit too.

The reboot gets a solid 7/10 from me! 70% is good, the 30% will be very divsive I feel. It’s a mixed bag, with a majority of the mixture being good. It is NOT on equal footing with the original, but it comes close. If you liked the reboot, haven’t seen the OG? Watch it. I’m serious. Watch it.

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

So it’s still letting me play DbD even though the thing ran out on the 8th. I don’t know why but I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth. I don’t have to spend money that I don’t have.

It’s a Hag. I’m Feng Min. We’re both short af and at this really high loop where I could only see her red stain to gauge how to act. And I slam the pallet on her and run around the corner of the loop, hoping she’ll stay to break it so while she’s momentarily distracted, I can Urban Evade away. She does! I do! It works like a charm! I’m like 10 feet away behind a tree now, watching her circle the same loop over and over trying to find me! It’s great!

IstG, every fucking person I’ve played with, who plays as Felix, ends up being the biggest fucking coward and IDK why!

So I’m doing the Unbreakable, Flip Flop, Boil Over, and Sprint Burst build. I get the Autohaven map with the small building on the one side that’s got 2 doors and like a million windows. And it’s a Trapper who apparently wants a Basement Game. And the Basement is in that building that has all these windows and doors to trap up. Fun! Well, any sane person knows that if you get Chased by the killer, don’t go near the Basement because it’s harder for everyone if you get put down there. So I lead him away. He gets me downed on the other side of the map, pauses to hit someone, breaks the pallet they threw down, damages their Gen, and then picks me up. He has Iron Grasp, Agitation, and Mad Grit. Boil Over is the direct foil to Iron Grasp so this is useful for me. Also, I was Recovered on the ground, thanks to Unbreakable, about 95%, so Flip Flop set my wiggle bar at around 45% already. I managed to wiggle off before we even got to the trapped building, and then Sprint Burst back to the other side of the map. This exact same scene repeated 3 more times before the last time I actually managed to Unbreakable off the ground and Sprint Burst away because he got distracted by the other 3 dudes. It was a long ass game but we all Escaped. I didn’t do that build for the rest of the day because all that wiggle hurt my hand.

Got a Ghost Face with an Ebony Mori. I pohotobomb his first Mori and then run. He Hits me but I stun him and he loses me in Chase. He downs and Hooks the other 3 no problem. So I ended up photobombing his 3rd Mori and then just standing there because I’m not putting in that much effort for the Hatch when I’m already Injured. We crouch and have a stare off. Then he PMs me with a screenie of me photobombing him! He downs me, lets me wiggle off when we can’t find Hatch, so I point to a Hook and let him Hook me. He photobombs my death! I sent him the screenshot! He was funny.

So many Trappers today wtf?

Got a Leatherface who DCs because everyone else was running him around and whenever he’d down me, I’d go to the same corner of the map. My build was all about wiggling out as fast as possible. Boil Over concealed the location of the nearest Hooks to him so he didn’t know where to go the first time and dropped me before I could wiggle off so he could go check. I Recovered to 99% and Meg gets me up and I flee while she runs him. I Heal up the other Meg who then Heals me. I go back to that corner since my gen wasn’t done. Repeat but wiggle off this time. Go back to that far corner. He abandons me to Chase someone else and while I’m almost done with my Gen, he rage-quits.

Ran a Rank 1 Hillbilly for fucking ever. Wasted every pallet on the map in the process but the last 4 Gens got done in that time so that’s okay I guess. He curved me real good at the end though so I sent him a GG even though i died. And dude was telling his chat that his curving isn’t good! Liek fuck man, you got me at an impossibel angle.

Got a Clown using all Clown Perks and Sloppy Butcher. And I was wondering why Healing was taking so fucking long cuz I didn’t know what Coulrophobia did! And even with that BS, I still managed to Escape at the end because he left me dying on the ground in front of a 3/4 open door. So while he went to Hook the last dude, I got myself up and opened the Gate and gtfo!

So I forgot that I was Readied Up because I had an emergency involving the time of the month. I rush to the bathroom and take care of business, realize what I did, and rush back. I’ve gotten into a match and have 3 crows. Pyramid Head just found me. Somehow we got that match to last 20 minutes, and I still managed to Escape despite being Hooked first and being downed in the doorway. Dude was camping one Gen super hard because two distracted him there. I did the last on the other side of the map.

Got a lot of fucking Swamps today(Monday). Sick of them and spawning in the same fucking place each time. The felled tress are pissing me off since the one side of the one map is just loaded with them.

Played some great matches with Twitch streamers today(and I followed them). 

Got 4 matches in a row where I used the same fucking Key in each one. When there’s a streamer in the lobby, I check if they’re streaming and listen in to their side of events. Helps me perform much better so that they don’t have make weird gestures that I won’t understand. 

I once got a chick was giggling at me teabagging her in greeting and she told her chat she wished Claudette would get in her face and have a stare down so she can screenshot how weird it looks. So I got off the Gen and did so. “Wait, can she hear me?” I nodded very slowly. “Claudeet, turn clockwise and then teabag once.” I did so. “OMG! Are you watching the stream while we play?” I nodded again. “Awesome!” I just took orders from her for the whole round and we both managed to Escape. No one else did but does that matter?

Dude #3 was streaming with his 2 friends, and dude #1 was like, ‘saw the Hatch by the one door’. And I run over there and teabag over it with my Key. ‘Holy shit she’s got a key! Get over here! Claudette, Heal me!’ So I did. Dude #2 got downed. ‘Let’s go save him.’ So we did. We each took Hits do he couldn’t get Hooked and then lead all the way back to the Hatch and got the 4-man Escape. 

So I fucked with a Huntress super hard! She went to Hook Bill, and I was following with Breakout. I box her in against the left side of the Hook just cuz I wanted to see if it would work. It did! She wasn’t far enough away to get the prompt so she just turned side to side madly while he wiggled. He got free and I’m crouched in the grass so she didn’t even notice me as she goes to Chase him again. He gets downed and brought back to the same Hook and I morph out of the grass to box her in again! He wiggles out. I was going to do it the third time but she went to a new Hook and I wanted to see if I can trick her into thinking this one Hook is glitched or some shit. So I save him with Borrowed Time and she immediately comes back to tunnel him. He runs her for a Gen and gets downed by that first Hook. Again. I appear like a phantom of the bog and box her in for a third time! In the middle of her mad spinning, the game ends. She rage-quit! I should feel bad but I don’t. It was funny. Also, tunneling Bill the whole fucking match is just shitty. Like, she hard ignored people whose asses he practically groped in passing while in Chase.

I load in to a lobby with a swf group. 2 of them send me party invites so I take the plunge. My mic on my headphones wasn’t working and I had enough time to tell them that before the game started. I had no time to switch headphones. We did good. One was like, ‘we send them a friend request, they’re good. Rank 4 means they play a lot’. So they each send me a request and I accept. I swap headphones and we can finally talk. And no one was threatened by the fact that I’m a girl who is ranked higher than them! ^-^

Dude jinxed us my saying ‘what if it’s a Spirit on The Game?’ and that’s what happened!

My first match with them.

^I just wanted to see if Sprint Burst out the top window could get me onto this thing and it worked!

[griimhilde-a]

              𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑   𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘  :

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟏.  :   THE OUTSIDE.

NAME  :     evangeline   sofia   grimhilde. EYE   COLOUR  :     hazel,   melted   honey,   coffee   fused   with   viridescences.   wildfires   when   the   sun   glazes   over,   hints   of   forest   trees   surrounding   the   warmth.   an   uneven   balance   of   hot   and   cold,   shallows   and   depths.  HAIR   STYLE   /   COLOUR  :     born   with   raven   black   hair,   dyed   a   midnight   blue   from   the   young   age   of   five,   mostly   due   to   her   infatuation   with   the   color   blue   after   discovering   how   blue   the   skies   could   be   from   a   nearly   destroyed   book   hidden   in   their   castle.   pages   littered   with   wilting   paintings,   oceans   blue   and   true,   waterfalls   cascading   into   the   depths   of   the   earth.   muted   sapphires   with   dull   sparkles   and   she   liked   pretty   things,   she   wanted   to   be   pretty.   considering   her   mother   viewed   her   as   her   protégé,   wanting   her   to   be   the   fairest,   even   if   it   meant   keeping   up   a   vigorous   hair   routine   to   maintain   the   sapphire   blues   in   her   silky   locks.   

on   the   isle,   tresses   were   kept   curled   with   perfection   from   a   heated   rod,   dangerous   but   as   mother   always   said,   beauty   is   pain.   often   styled   in   a   v-braid,   a   semblance   of   royalty.   length   was   kept   past   shoulders,   but   grown   just   a   bit   past   mid-back   once   in   auradon.   hair   styles   varied   throughout   the   years   in   auradon,   curls   looser   and   often   side   parted   with   a   braid   for   accentuation.   most   recent   styles   has   her   tighter   curls   making   an   appearance,   predominantly   raven   colored   with   blue   undertones,   and   styled   with   a   simple,   loose   half-up   twist. HEIGHT  :     five   feet,   four   inches. CLOTHING   STYLE  :     on   the   isle,   leather   was   the   dominant   material   used,   and   evie   made   all   of   her   outfits   on   her   own   from   discarded   fabrics   she   could   find.   she   valued   being   original   and   only   liked   wearing   clothing   custom   fitted   to   her   physique.   often   wearing   skirts   and   dresses   with   patterned   leggings   and   heeled   booties,   occasionally   knee   highs.   very   rarely   seen   without   heels,   she’s   been   scrutinized   for   not   having   grown   any   taller   than   she   already   has,   believing   that   she’d   look   prettier   with   longer   legs,   and   often   gives   off   that   illusion   with   her   shoes.   color   schemes   include   various   shades   of   blue   with   reds,   whites,   and   blacks   for   accents.   after   leaving   the   isle,   she   adjusts   to   auradon   city   fashion,   wearing   silk   and   satin   and   cotton   and   whatever   material   she   can   get   her   hands   on,   she   keeps   leather   as   an   accessory,   mostly   only   having   them   with   her   fingerless   gloves   or   hand   wraps.   her   overall   style   matches   that   of   high   fashion,   often   straying   from   the   ‘norm’   while   still   being   classified   as   a   trendsetter   and   fashionista.   color   scheme   remains   the   same   in   auradon,   not   as   covered   up   in   layers.  BEST   PHYSICAL   FEATURE  :     hair   and   eyes.

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟐.  :   THE  INSIDE

FEARS  :     disappointing   her   mother   and   everyone,   failing,   being   and   ending   up   alone,   being   unloved,   being   hated   and   disliked,   being   a   social   pariah,   being   unwanted,   aging,   wrinkles,   any   physical   imperfection   she   can   gain   with   age,   scars,   being   seen   as   ugly,   ending   up   like   her   mother,   hurting   people   with   her   magic,   feeling   trapped,   losing   control,   before   d2   :   the   isle,   coming   face-to-face   with   her   murderers. 

BIGGEST   PET   PEEVE  :     unblended   eyeshadow,   being   underestimated,   people   who   think   being   mean   is   a   personality,   those   without   a   spine,   those   who   won’t   take   no   for   an   answer,   loud   chewers,   passive   aggressiveness.   yes,   i   added   more   than   one.   evie’s   not   the   type   to   have   this   overarching   pet   peeve,   it’s   just   little   baby   things. 

AMBITIONS   FOR   THE   FUTURE  :     simply   put,   she   wants   to   love   herself   completely   and   fully.   but   that   will   take   forever   to   happen   so   she’s   focusing   on   her   business   as   a   designer   and   continuing   to   create   new   trends   and   collections.   for   ballet,   she   strives   to   improve   her   skills   as   a   dancer   and   master   the   roles   she’s   given,   and   just   overall   have   a   status   as   one   of   the   best   ballet   dancers.   she   wants   the   isle   to   be   fully   liberated,   continuing   with   the   vk   program   she   created   with   ben   and   making   the   island   into   a   habitable   place,   not   a   prison.   her   main   goal   is   making   sure   incoming   vks   are   welcomed   and   safe   and   comfortable,   doing   what   she   can   to   help   the   adjustment.   she   also   wants   to   know   auradon   law   inside   and   out   to   be   the   best   lawyer   she   could   be   for   vks   and   those   unfairly   treated   by   the   law. 

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟑.  :   THOUGHTS

FIRST   THOUGHTS   WAKING   UP  :     she   doesn’t   want   to   be   awake.   getting   up   in   the   morning   is   fairly   difficult   with   her   if   she   has   to   follow   an   alarm,   as   she   prefers   to   let   the   sun   rays   lull   her   out   of   her   sleep   and   take   her   time.   but   usually   she’s   kind   of   thoughtless,   mostly   feeling   how   tired   she   is,   how   exhausted   she   is                   depending   if   the   night   had   been   riddled   with   nightmares.   since   she   follows   a   continuous   schedule,   she   doesn’t   really   have   to   think   about   what   she   has   to   do   but   follows   the   patterns   of   getting   in   the   shower   and   completing   her   beauty   routine,   then   acknowledging   plans   for   the   day. WHAT   THEY   THINK   ABOUT   MOST  :      a   hair   out   of   place,   uneven   make-up,   is   she   smiling   too   widely,   is   she   talking   too   quickly,   too   softly   ?   though   intensely   internally   self-absorbed,   evie   cares   immensely   for   others,   so   her   thoughts   are   often   fused   with   her   self-presentation   and   how   to   best   treat   others   around   her   with   utmost   kindness.  WHAT   THEY   THINK   ABOUT   BEFORE   BED  :     how   she   shouldn’t   have   laughed   so   hard   at   something   that   wasn’t   so   funny,   how   she   should’ve   checked   her   hair   because   it’d   been   imperfect   for   far   too   long   and   wondering   how   many   people   had   to   see   her   when   she   didn’t   look   and   feel   her   best,   how   to   better   present   herself   the   next   day,   how   to   make   sure   she’s   not   overlooked   and   unheard,   how   to   better   treat   others   and   not   make   the   same   mistakes   again.   super   analytical   and   detailed,   she   takes   every   micro-expression   and   tone   to   heart. WHAT   THEY   THINK   THEIR   BEST   QUALITY   IS  :     for   the   longest   time,   she   thought   her   physical   features   were   her   best   quality   and   her   ability   to   adapt   and   metamorphosize   herself   into   the   perfect   princess   for   others.   but   ultimately,   she’s   grown   to   realize   her   adaptability   and   perseverance,   stubbornness   and   patience,   among   others,   are   her   best   qualities. 

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟒.  :   WHAT’S BETTER ?

SINGLE   OR   GROUP   DATES  :     single,   she   prefers   to   dedicate   time   to   the   person   she   wants   to   be   with.   she   also   likes   the   attention   and   focus   to   solely be   on   her.   though,   once   reaching   a   comfortable   stage   in   any   relationship,   she   would   like   group   dates,   they’re   fun   with   the   right   pairs. TO   BE   LOVED   OR   RESPECTED  :     loved.   it   seems   ridiculous   to   crave   love   more   than   respect,   but   being   deprived   of   it,   of   what   it   feels   like,   she   wants   nothing   more   than   to   be   loved.   sometimes   it   gets   to   her   and   she   believes   it   defines   her   self-worth,   but   she   truly,   and   genuinely,   desires   to   be   loved   more   than   to   be   respected.   is   it   a   bit   toxic,   to   be   so   infatuated   with   being   loved   ?   maybe.  BEAUTY   OR   BRAINS  :     brains.   before   auradon,   she   probably   would   have   preferred   beauty,   but   only   through   the   projection   of   herself,   considering   she   knew   others   would   pick   her   for   her   beauty,   not   her   brains.   although   she   cares   very   much   for   her   appearance,   and   while   it   may   be   the   first   thing   she   notices   in   a   person,   it’s   ultimately   their   mind   that   pulls   her   in.   and   brains   doesn’t   equate   to   intelligence   or   anything,   it’s   just   beyond   the   concept   of   physical   attractiveness. DOGS   OR   CATS   :     cats.

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟓.  :   DO THEY…

LIE  :     to   herself   ?   all   the   time.   to   others   ?   not   so   much.   she   tries   to   be   as   honest   as   she   can   be,   wanting   to   pull   away   from   her   habits   of   lying   and   manipulation   from   the   isle,   but   she’s   only   gotten   better   at   coating   the   truth   if   it’s   something   that   could   be   potentially   hurtful.  BELIEVE   IN   THEMSELVES  :     to   an   extent,   yes.   but   not   as   much   as   she   should.   she   puts   herself   down   more   than   anything.  BELIEVE   IN   LOVE  :     of   course.   deeply.   wholly.   madly.   fully.   wholeheartedly.  WANT   SOMEONE  :     yes,   but   it’s   not   a   need.   evie   wants   someone,   but   she’s   learned   to   be   alone.   she’s   been   alone   growing   up,   it’s   not   a   difficult   adjustment.   she   wants   to   want,   and   to   be   wanted. 

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟔.  :   HAVE  THEY…

BEEN   ON   STAGE  :     yes   !   dancing   on   stage,   mostly   ballet,   and   through   her   drama   class. DONE   DRUGS  :     no.   CHANGED   WHO   THEY   WERE   TO   FIT   IN  :     yes.   changing   herself   was   a   big   part   of   growing   up   and   adjusting   to   auradon.   evie   might   adjust   to   fit   the   audience,   still,   but   she   will   always   stay   true   to   herself   at   her   core.

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟕.  :   FAVOURITES

FAVOURITE   COLOURS  :     blue,   red,   and   black,   specifically   their   gemstone   shades.  FAVOURITE   ANIMAL  :      all   of   them.   she   finds   all   animals   adorable.  FAVOURITE   BOOK  :     anything   with   romance   and   mythology,   the   odyssey   remains   a   top   favorite. FAVOURITE   GAME  :     doesn’t   play   games,   but   quite   enjoys   trivia   or   dumb   party   games. 

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟖.  :   FINISH  THE  SENTENCE

I LOVE  :     you. I FEEL  :     empty. I HIDE  :     myself.    I MISS  :      me. I WISH  :     to   be   okay.

TAGGED     BY     :     @dogfearing TAGGING     :     @hecrowned , @hadesheiir , @deathhumored ( any ) , @shelcved , @arsonwitch , @rexquondcm , @hiighking​ , @darlingflight​ , @generael​ , @auroriias​ , @femmefataele​ ( any ), @softbrawn​ , and you  !!

[melbee]

Electric Love

Chapter 3 

A David Lee Roth Fanfiction

I'd be safe and warm If I was in L.A.  California dreamin' 

On such a winter's day

- california dreamin’ 

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Okay.. final checks!” Holly sounded out as she put the last box into the Ford pickup truck, (kindly borrowed from her father).

I huffed as I put my bag into the front seat, as I made my way to the back where Holly was. “I think that’s it Holly.”

She sighed as she finally looked at me. “Holy shit, we’re actually doing this.”

“Pretty sure I’m the one who’s moving?” I said as I laughed, making my way to the front, sitting shotgun.

“It takes two, and we’re basically joined at the hip Rose.” She said laughing, climbing into the front seat, and shutting the door.

“Right forgot how obsessed you are about me.” I said as we started onto the road.

“Yeah well...” Holly began to say, as I looked out the window.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be leaving this place.” I whispered as I watched the car go by. I gazed up at the corner store me and Holly used to ride our bikes to as kids, the large Museum full of tacky antiques, and of course the beautiful desert scenery that accompanied every corner of Arizona.

“Believe me, it’s for the best. From the day I met you in first grade, you were never destined to stay in this dry place.” Holly said as she stayed glued to the road ahead.

I gave her small smile, as she flicked her eyes toward me before focusing back on the road. “That means a lot. I never thought I would get out of here.”

“Rose, if there was a spot in the yearbook for the person who is most likely for success, it was always you.” 

I just sighed as I continued looking out the window. How did she know that? I was always quiet, reserved, and never one to go out much. I felt as if I should be doing more, or being more fun and energetic. I figured I would live in Arizona all my life, settle down, maybe get married and have kids.

I guess life has a funny way of changing things.

“So what are you going to do?” I asked as I whipped my head around to Holly. I’ve known her for a long time, but I never quite knew what she wanted to do as a career. She was a good swimmer and competed, but I wasn’t sure if that’s what she wanted to be all her life.

Holly sighed, “I’m sure I’ll work at the diner a bit longer, at least until I punch that sucker like a balloon anyways...” I laughed as I shook my head.

Holly looked at me and smiled, “Maybe I’ll talk to Ralph at the pool and see if I could pick up a job as a swim coach or something.”

I smiled, “Holly, that sounds wonderful!”

“Yeah maybe I’ll do that for a bit, maybe meet a cute European, move to Spain, oh.. and cheer on my best friend as she earns millions as the best fashion designer in the entire country.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I said as I fidgeted with my fingers.

I put my eyes back out the window, as I heard the familiar click of the radio turn on, and the familiar melodies of California Dreamin’ by the Mamas and the Papas turned on.

I heard the tap of the wheel, I assumed Holly had begun to listen to the music, and it must've been lulling, because I soon began to drift off into a deep sleep, the sense of surroundings filling me, and the curiosity of the future in store for me.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Approximately 12 hours later, two cheeseburgers, and taking turns driving the truck, we made it to the City of angels.

“Wow! It’s just like in the movies, but better!” Holly said as she gazed out of the windows at the looming palm tress, and the big buildings.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.” I said as I gazed at the people in fancy and cheap cars alike, the big signs filled with ads for strip clubs, tours, and perfume commercials.

“I wonder how many celebrities you’re going to see.” Holly said, as she turned down another street, toward a sign that was directing us to northeast Los Angeles, and eventually into Pasadena.

We had stopped at a local convenience store and grabbed a map, which I now had facing adjacent to a long a piece of paper which I had copied down the street address. I was fixing my eyes now toward the map, chewing my bottom lip in concentration. “Okay so go straight for about 15 miles, then you’re going to take a right, then a left, go straight-”

“Okay, calm down I’m not a mind memorizer.” Holly said, as I saw her tongue peak out of her bottom lip, as she continued on. “I need a smoke soon.”

“Okay, do you want me to get one for you?” I said as I glanced back at the map.

“Nah, my Dad will kill me if he smells smoke in here. Something about it ruining the interior or something..”

“Oh okay..” As I concentrated on the map. This was so confusing, how did anyone get anywhere in this state? Arizona was pretty easy as it was mainly desert. This city had almost every type of business across every corner of land. If you wanted to go to a strip club, McDonald's, or get your drivers license, you were lucky to have all three within walking distance.

“Wow so cool! Look!’ Holly said as she pointed up at a billboard we were passing by, I looked just briefly to see a glimpse of large letters, and bright colors.

VAN HALEN TWO NIGHTS AT THE ROSE BOWL! GET YOUR TICKETS NOW!

“So cool! I wonder if Lewis could hook you up with tickets, I wouldn’t mind staying a couple extra days.” Holly said as she laughed.

I shrugged going back to the map. “Yeah maybe..”

“Oh come on! Don’t you want to see Van Halen! They’re so hot and so rock n’ roll.”

“Yeah, I like a couple of their songs..” I muttered.

Holly gave me a pointed look. “Okay, so you wouldn’t do anything to get backstage and meet them?”

I put my map down, as I gave her a look. “Holly, me and 50 other girls trying to hook up with them.”

“Woah! So you admit you would want to hook up with them.” Holly giggled.

“Uh.. no. I mean.. I would be mixed in with every other girl trying to get their eyes set on them. What makes me stand out from the rest of the other greedy, fame grabbers?” I said as I shook my head.

“Oh I don’t know.. maybe getting pregnant and having to get married by guilt, and collecting millions in cash as a rock star wife?” Holly said, without a stutter.

My eyes bugged. “Holly, you are fucking insane.”

“I know, you love me anyway.” She winked.

“Focus on the road, we’re getting close to Pasadena.”

“alright.. alright..” Holly said as she maintained her eyes on the road.

Almost an hour later we had finally made it to Pasadena.

It was a lot more prosperous then LA. It showcased lot’s of expensive architecture and Spanish styled roofing, and busy landscapes. I could tell it was a town where the rich encompassed much of the population. 

How much does Lewis make? From the couple phone calls I had received from him, I had not gotten the chance to ask about how prosperous his job was.

“Wow, there must be some rich ass kids in this place.” She said as she looked around at the architecture. 

I snorted, “Yeah no kidding. Pretty sure you’re turning right at this intersection.” Holly jerked the wheel into the turn lane, and stopped before giving me a mean look.

“You know you have to give me at least a bit more time to safely move myself, before you give me directions.”

I slapped my hand down on the map, “You were complaining I was going too fast!”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure a turtle could say directions faster then you could.” Holly said as we began turning onto another road.

The buildings began to space out,  as we began to drive pass large mansions, guarded by strong gates and dangly trees, that reminded me of the streets showcased in Hollywood movies. Does that mean they were fake? There was something so oddly picturesque of Pasadena, that made me believe it was something far different then what it appeared to be.

“Wow, I wonder who lives in those places.” Holly said as we peered to the side to ogle at the gorgeous architecture.

Just as we were driving, we all but slammed on our brakes as we saw a 50′s Mercury all but zoom past one of the accompanying large, expansive  gates, along with a chorus of loud hollers and laughs.

I scoffed as I looked over to Holly who sat there in awe. “Wow.”

“Are you okay?” I asked looking concerned, this must’ve snapped her out of her daze because she began driving once again, as she shook her head.

“Yeah sorry, I just... who the hell was that? Do you think they could’ve been a celebrity?” She said.

I laughed. “They almost hit us, and you’re worried about if they were famous?”

“How cool if they did, and I could’ve met whoever was in that car. It looked like a guy and a couple chicks. Or maybe they were all guys...”

I laughed as I shrugged, “Could very well be the latter.”

“So fucking cool.” She said as she shook her head smiling, as we continued down the road.

I couldn’t help but begin to get curious who was in there as well. Didn’t they have any decency to watch where they were going? Why were they driving so erratically in such a beautiful car? Where they drunk? Where were they going?

I simply just let it go, and sighed hoping that would’ve been the end of those encounters in California.

Oh, how I wish that would've been true.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Sunset Strip, 1982

“Dave you are so funny!” I heard the obnoxious giggle come from the blonde to my right.

I grinned, as I handed the keys to a chauffeur, grabbing her hand and kissing her neck all the way into the club, a troupe of others who had hitched a ride following behind closely.

“Great to see you Mr. Roth, your booth is right this way.” As a waiter, I presumed new as he had no recognizable face to him, lead me the way. It was routine to hit Hollywood’s best clubs on the Sunset Strip, and it was always a good time to reminisce about Van Halen’s early days.

We certainly had come a long way now.

“Call me Dave, or Diamond, or put them together. It doesn’t matter.” I said as I laughed, cueing the chorus of giggles from the other girls who had stumbled their way to the side.

I had checked and now they had seemingly multiplied, lots of brunettes, and bleach blonde hair, and legs. To say it was normal, would be an understatement. They were all the same. But it got me laid, and gave me a good time.

“David...” I heard a whisper come from the side, it sounded like Michael Jackson, and over-tuned whistles. Nonetheless, I turned my way to see a brunette with big eyes, gazing at me with a strange look.

“Yes, sugar?” I said in my best sweet saccharine voice, and a grin. 

She began to rub down my thigh, her spindly fingers grazing up and down like cat claws. God damn how did she pick stuff up with them... “Could you get me a drink?”

I smiled, as I stood a little taller motioning for a waiter to come. “She’ll have a jack and coke.”

She huffed, “No, I want a whiskey sour.” I shrugged as I motioned for the waiter to listen to her, and he simply nodded his head and left.

She continued her incessant clawing on my thighs, that I’m sure would leave marks by morning, as girls began toppling over one another to try to join in on whatever they thought was happening.

“So David, are we going back to your house?” I heard a blonde say to my right, as she twirled her hair, biting her lip as if her life depended on it. 

“I don’t know sugar, I got rehearsal tomorrow.”

She pouted as she latched on to my arm like a leech. “Please, can we come stay, I’ll make it worth your while.” I began hearing the sounds of bird like chirps as other girls nearby began chiming in on the plead.

I laughed as I smacked the blonde’s thigh, grabbing a swig of my Jack before shrugging. “Oh fuck it.”

I heard a loud cheer, before one by one girls began crawling towards me, kissing up and down my legs and arms.

This was going to be a long night.

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[mskinkyafro]

Until Then (RoD x OH Crossover)

A/N: I’ve been wanting to make a crossover fic for some time now and I’m excited to have written, planned, and created such backgrounds to interweave the two MC’s and their books together. This originally was only going to be a simple one-shot but over the last week and a half I spent writing, I’ve been inspired to make spin-off/continuation fics centered around these two MCs. I fell in love with their dynamics and I have to explore them more. Big thanks and shoutout to @jakemckenziesprincess for basically being my beta and making this a better, more concise, and great fic. 

Summary: Aunt and niece, Dr. Katrina Michaels and Chelsea Michaels reunite after years and find themselves bonding over the struggles and pain of forbidden romances.

Side Note: This fic takes place after the finales of both RoD and OH 1, and prior to beginning of OH. 

Implied Pairings: Logan x MC & Ethan x MC

A soft breeze rustles Chelsea Michaels’ brown, curly tresses, slowly pulling her out of her thoughts. She gazes out at the sight of a tranquil lake that typically is filled  with people on a summer day, but today she finds herself alone sitting on the hood of her car. She thinks of how she left the dual lives she was leading behind and now embarking on a whole new adventure. Although adjusting to life in Connecticut and proud of how far she’s grown in the last few months, a part of her lingers elsewhere. 

The sound of whimsical chiming interrupts her time of reflection and she looks down at her cell phone. She swipes on the screen and smiles as the image of a middle-aged man with dark brown skin and kind eyes just like hers appears.

“Hi, Dad!”

“Hi, Sweetheart!”

His eyes look tired, yet there’s still a smile that graces his face as he sees his daughter. Through the time she’s been gone, he’s evaluated his parenting and is learning from the mistakes. There’s still things he’d wouldn’t change but overall, he wished it all went differently. But he can’t change the past nor the pain his little girl went through. He can only be better moving forward.

“How’s the east coast treating you, Chels?

“It's been an adjustment, but good so far! The honor’s summer engineer program is amazing! It’s so much excitement, I’m still processing it all. I mean I can’t believe it’s already been a month since I left.”

“I can,” he interjects with a sad smile.

Chelsea pauses speaking and runs her hand through her hair as she looks away from her father’s  misty eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know things between us are slowly...well you know--and you’re an adult now. But what can I say? I’m still struggling to see my baby girl all grown up.”

“Oh, Dad. I know...I know things were hard. I didn’t make it easier and I know we have a long way to go but we’ll get there. Besides, I may be getting the hang of this new routine but...well I mean it’s--”

He watches his daughter stutter and can see the lack of spunk she usually has. He cuts her off.

“Something’s off though, isn’t it?”

“How’d you know?”

“You forget. I’m your dad. I know when something is bothering you.”

She cracks a light laugh.

“I guess some things don’t change.”

“Me knowing what upsets my baby girl? Not a chance. So is it making friends? Because your old man had trouble meeting others when I first went to school.”

“No, my roommates are cool. And the other students in the program are nice. I really can’t explain it...it’s just I miss-- well I just...” she trails off and looks down at her phone screen. Her hazel eyes connected with her father’s and at that moment he knew what was upsetting her.

“I see.” he murmurs. His tone was a little rougher than he anticipated.

Chelsea briskly turns away from the screen and clears her throat. Her voice is tight.

“Thanks for checking in Dad. I’ll text you later. Love you. Bye.”

Chelsea ends the call before he can say anything else. He sighs to himself and rubs his hand over his face, frustrated. It was moments like this that he wished Nia was alive. Every day he missed his wife and although he managed to raise Chelsea through a challenging time, a girl still needs her mother. Not happy with how things were left he decided to call his sister. At times he didn’t know what to do, and when those times came, he would call his sister. Without any hesitation, he scrolled through his recent call list until his finger hovered over her name and pressed down on the screen. The dial tone rang three times before he heard a familiar, tired voice say,

“Dr. Michaels speaking.”

“I get it, you went to medical school so you’re the favorite between Mama and Pops,” he says with feign annoyance.

“Keenan, I’ll have you know I’ve been Mama and Daddy’s favorite without even having to become a doctor, thank you very much.”

“Sure, Kat. Keep telling yourself that.”

“Oh, I will. So what do I owe the pleasure of this call? It's been a minute since you’ve called. All I got was measly texts here and there.” Katrina says.

“You could’ve called me if you were missing my voice, Kat.”

“You know how busy I am, saving lives and all. You know, no biggie.”

Keenan scoffs and retorts.

“And me being a decorated detective in L.A. leaves me with an ample amount of time?”

“Who’s bragging about accomplishments now?” she teases.

“You know what? You ain’t no good.”

They two siblings laugh together, drowning out the other by their bellows of chuckles.

“But in all seriousness, are things okay? Is my niece okay? I’m sorry again I couldn’t make it to her graduation. I didn’t go into detail at the moment because of how stressed I was on my end, but I…almost lost my medical license.”

Keenan fumbles with his phone at the news before returning to his ear.

“Woah! Hold up?! What?!”

“Calm down, Keenan. The keyword is almost.”

“Kat, when I used to say ‘don’t kill anyone’, I was just teasing but now I’m starting to think I should’ve been serious.”

“Ha-Ha very funny. It's a long story but in the end, I won my case. Also, I got a promotion.”

“Well, that’s a complete 180. What a first year, I’m glad to hear you worked it out. And congratulations sis! I’m proud of you. So, Ms. Big-Shot what’s your new position?”

Katrina clears her throat before she mumbles.

“I, erm, got a spot as Junior fellow on the Diagnostic team. You know, the team that the Dr. Ramsey--”

“The team Dr. Ramsey is a part of. I know of it well. You forget how much you used to go on and on about how great this Ethan Ramsey was throughout your time in med school. You lived up to the annoying little sister in those moments more than when we were kids and you used to follow me around trying to measure my vitamin intake.”

“I was that bad, was I?”

“You were. But forget that, you’re working with your idol. Are you excited?”

“Well...having him as a mentor and other things has been quite the um-- experience. I can only imagine working with him on a new scale will be just as interesting.”

Keenan noticed a hesitation but didn’t press it.

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

“And to answer your previous questions, Chelsea’s doing great. She’s settled in Connecticut. In a town called Manchester, not too far from you I believe. And if I’m honest the last few months between me and her haven’t been the best. They were the worst.”

“What the hell? You two are like peas in a pod. What happened?”

Kennan sighs, “I rather let Chelsea tell you the details. It's mainly her story to tell. Speaking of, she’s why I called. I was hoping you can invite her up to visit you in Boston for a few weeks. I know her program is having a month-long break and from our last conversation,  I think she could use some woman to woman time.”

“Of course. Anything for my niece. Does she need a lift? Manchester is about two hours and with my student debt, a car is not a luxury I’ve invested in but one of my friends has--”

“Chelsea has one.”

“What?! No way. You finally taught that girl to drive? Much less bought her a car?!

Katrina couldn’t hide the disbelief in her voice. She knew after the passing of her sister in law her brother struggled with letting Chelsea onto the busy roads.

“You know after all that happened, I was worried that you might never--”

Keenan interrupts her again.

“No. I didn’t.”

“Oh? From a friend then?”

Katrina hears her brother suck in the air.

“You could say that.”

She doesn’t mention the way he sounded as he answered her.

“Well, in that case, tell her that I’d love for her to come visit. My roommates and I have an extra room she can stay in too. Tell her to meet me at Edenbrook in a few days whenever she gets her things together for a stay.”

“Thanks, Katrina. I think her spending time with you will help.”

“Her and me both.”

The two stay on the phone for a few more minutes before ending the call.

Before long a week passes and Chelsea finds herself five minutes away from one of Boston’s greatest hospitals, Edenbrook. She hadn’t seen her aunt in so long. Her being in medical school in the past years had cut down the amount of time she could visit. Chelsea parked her car in the visitor's parking lot and got out. Once out of the car, she brushes lint off her dark wash denim jeans, adjusts her red tube top and ties the laces on her white converse. As she pulls her hair up into a messy bun she looks in her sideview mirror. Approving what she sees she heads to the entrance of the hospital.

Once inside she’s taken aback by how large and modern the hospital is. After taking it all in she looks around the semi-quiet place in search of someone to help her find her aunt. And as if someone was reading her mind, an older man with a friendly smile noticed her uncertain expression and approached her.

“Do you need help, miss?”

Chelsea smiles gratefully.“Hi! I do. I’m here to see my aunt--”

“Oh is she a patient? If you go to the front desk a few feet in front of us--”

“Oh no. She’s a doctor here. Do you know her? Her name is Katrina Mich--”

“Ahh! Dr. Michaels! Of course, I do my dear. I’d be a terrible man if I didn’t remember the woman who saved my life. She’s made quite the name for herself here at Edenbrook.”

Chelsea was surprised to hear such news from this man but it made her happy nonetheless.

“Wow! I had no idea. It's been a while since I’ve seen her but I’m supposed to meet her right now.”

The man extends his hand and introduces himself.

“First, my dear. Hello, I’m Dr. Banerji.”

“Chelsea. Chelsea Michaels. Nice to meet you, doctor.” she says as she shakes his hand.

“Now that I have a better look at you, I can see the resemblance.”

“I get that from time to time. So, did you have any idea where she could be?”

“Well it's 6:00 pm now and her shift ended a little earlier so she’s probably at Donahues. It's that little Pub across the way.”

“Thanks!”

“My pleasure.”

Chelsea waves at the kind doctor as she walks back outside. As she walks closer to the bar, a man calls out, stopping her in her tracks.

“Hey there, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing all by herself?” he asks, his speech slurred.

Chelsea crinkles her nose in disgust and ignores the intoxicated man as she keeps walking forward. As she reaches for the handle to open the door, the man puts his hand on top of hers, and inches forward. The alcohol on his breath assaults her nose as he continues to speak.

“Hey, don’t be so cold. I’m just trying to get to know you.”

“Well, I don’t want to.”

Chelsea yanks her hand free and takes a few steps back to distance herself from the man.

“Come on, a beautiful girl like--”

“Exactly, A girl. I’m eighteen, creep.”

“Last time I checked, eighteen is legal, sweetie.” he attempts to reach out to grab Chelseas’s arm but is interrupted by a gruff voice.

“Is there a problem here?”

Chelsea turns around and behind her is a tall man in a gray sweater, possibly in his thirties, with piercing blue eyes and a stern expression on his face as he stares down the other man.

“Nope. Just having a friendly conversation.” the man replied, his speech slurred even more than before.

“Why don’t you stop making an ass of yourself and leave this young woman alone who is not interested in partaking in any conversation with you.” the man says as he takes a commanding step towards the drunk.

The drunk man steps away from Chelsea and begins to walk off, muttering under his breath. Once he’s a distance away from the pub, Chelsea turns to the stranger.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to get involved. If he got any closer, he would’ve ended up across the street. ” she says as she lifts her balled fist.

The man’s eyebrow lifted slightly, an amusement flash from his eyes as soon as it was there.

“That’s exactly why I intervened. We don’t need any more PITA patients. ”

“Pita? Erm, never mind, so you’re a doctor at Edenbrook?”

“ Yes. And you should run along. You’re a bit young, aren’t you Bambi?”

“Bambi?”

Right as she was going to question the man, he started to head inside, ignoring her confusion.

Inside, it's decently filled with  patrons but not overly crowded. The biggest gathering is a group of doctors sitting in the center talking and sipping their drinks casually.

As they stand by the entrance, Chelsea squints as she searches through the dim-lighted space. The man was beginning to question her but she spoke before he could get a word out.

“I’m here to find my aunt. I was told she’d be in here and I was supposed to meet her right now.”

She walks forward toward the group, with the stranger lingering behind.

“Who is your aunt--”

He’s cut off by Chelsea’s excited squeal.

“Auntie Kitty!”

Katrina startled by the almost forgotten name, looks up and smiles widely and gets up quickly from the table as her eyes land on her teenage niece.

“Seashell! How are you? Is it six already? I hope you had no trouble finding me.”

She says excitedly as she pulls her into a big hug.

“I’m great! And it’s no biggie, auntie. I got here in one piece. There was a slight hiccup outside this place, but I had it handle--”

“You called that handled, Bambi?”

Chelsea breaks away from Katrina and turns around to gesture to the man behind her who is hidden from Katrina’s view.

“I did. But your assistance was appreciated, Mr...I didn’t get your name.”

Before he could answer, Katrina speaks as she moves closer to the two.

“Dr. Ramsey.”

“Rookie.”

His eyes bore into Katrina’s and the two stare at each other for a while, almost for too long. As Chelsea stood between the two, she noticed a spark between her aunt and Dr. Ramsey. It was so visible she felt as if she was intruding on something intimate, something only for the two of them. She clears her throat, bringing the two back into reality.

“I didn’t realize you two knew each other,” Chelsea says, her eyebrow quirked at the two.

“Rookie here has been a colossal pain in my ass this past year.”

Chelsea could hear the touch of fondness in his voice despite the words he used.

“What happened to being Edenbrook’s brightest, Ethan?”

He rolls his eyes and barely hides a smile. He turns to Chelsea.

“Please tell me big egos don’t run in your family, Bambi or is it strictly exclusive to her.”

“Wait--Bambi? How’d you give my niece a nickname already?”

He shrugs as a man in a wheelchair rolls up toward the three. He faces Chelsea and extends his hand out. Ethan takes this time to excuse himself from the two women.

“Bambi, Rookie.”

Katrina watches him retreat to the bar as Elijah introduces himself to Chelsea, waving the others to come do the same.

“Hey, I’m Elijah Greene. One of your aunt’s roommates, best friends, co-workers, and partners in crime. You know, the entire package.”

“Chelsea Michaels. You all, partners in crime?” she asks with a laugh.

“Oh, Elijah is just exaggerating. I’m Sienna Trinh, nice to meet you.”

A petite Asian woman steps up next to greet Chelsea. Soon, a Black woman, a Polynesian man, an Indian woman, and a Porteguese man follow suit. Kat points at each one and introduces everyone to her niece.

“Aurora Emery.”

“Bryce Lahela”

“Jackie Varma.”

“Rafael Aveiro”

Jackie then turns to Sienna and says, “Elijah has a point. I mean we’ve done some questionably legal things.” Her eyes land on Katrina.

Brye chimes in, “Are you a criminal mastermind like Hotshot over here, Chelsea?”

Chelsea rubs her arms shyly. She stammers a bit before Rafael interjects.

“I wouldn't be surprised if she was.”

“Enough teasing, you two,” Katrina says.

The group laughs as Katrina’s eyes her niece skeptical as she notices her sudden quiet and skittish behavior. Looking her over she finally notices the colorful pattern of pink flowers surrounded by tendrils of blues on Chelsea’s right arm. Staring the teen down, Kat’s voice interrupts all of the side conversations.

“What the hell is on your arm, Chelsea?! Don’t tell me what I think that is!”

Immediately the rest of the friends look toward her arm and look back towards Katrina. Curious to see her in such a parental role.

“In that case, it’s definitely not a tattoo.” Jackie murmurs sarcastically.

“Not helping, Jackie.” Sienna says as she elbows the woman.

Chelsea nervously looks at her tattoo and rubs it absentmindedly.

“So, this is one of the new things that’s happening with me.”

“It has to be fake. One of those semi-permanent tattoos that last a month, right?” her aunt asks insistently.

Her niece avoids eye contact and looks to one of the others, hoping to get a little help.

Elijah chimes in, “You know, I think it looks really badass. Not everyone can rock a whole sleeve tat.”

Katrina glares at the man and he raises his hands in mock defeat. Before she can lay more into her niece Aurora speaks up.

“I was pegging you as a goody-two shoes like your aunt here. You both have the miss congeniality vibe but clearly there’s more to you.”

“I don’t mean to pry but we heard something about this past year has been crazy for you, but I’m thinking that it's crazier than imagined.” Rafael says.

Chelsea shrugs her shoulders and grabs a nearby chair to sit in.

“That’s one way of putting it. This tattoo is nothing compared to the other things that happened. I can’t talk about much because well-- to answer your question, they for sure dance on the line of legality.”

Katrina crosses her arms over her chest.

“Oh boy, how illegal are we talking?.”

Everyone shuffles a little closer to Chelsea, wondering what’s about to come out of her mouth. 

She coughs out “Like...I don’t know, I may have been a part of a crew that may have stolen approximately in total ten million dollars worth of cars.”

There was silence before everyone started talking over the other, however not much longer Katrina’s voice overwhelmed the others.

“What the fuck?! You did, what?!”

Chelsea leans forward and points her finger at her aunt.

“Allegedly.”

“Allegedly my ass! How did you…” her aunt tried to ask but Bryce cut in.

“Woah! Okay so that’s some next level, Fast & the Furious shit. The lives of teenagers nowadays. When I was in high school, the craziest experience was on prom night.”

“Prom. Now that was quite the time. I can tell you must have had some wild ones, Meathead.” Jackie teases.

The others get caught up in reminiscing about their prom days that it gave the two Michaels women time to chat briefly.

“Okay, so now that I’ve digested all of this. All I can say is wow. I’m going to need details later on though.”

“So how mad are you?”

“I’m not mad, I’m concerned. Plus, I can’t have you be the one to freak your dad out,, that’s my job.” she jokes.

The two chuckle and are back to the main conversation when Sienna asks.

“What about you, Katrina? How was your prom? I bet you were Queen.”

“Is it that obvious? I was, but it wasn’t a glorious reign. After the crowning, during the royal first dance, the King got too handsy so I stepped on his foot and caused him to crash into the snack table which split hawaiian punch all over the DJ booth.”

Everyone laughs and Kat’s retelling and Elijah then asks Chelsea,

“So how was your prom, Chelsea? Was it more on the normal side? Handsome date, tux, corsage  the usual set up.”

Hearing Elijah’s question sends flashes to Chelsea’s head of that night with Logan. How surprised she was to see him at Riya’s door. From the magical way it was being so intimate with him to the dangers that were awaiting them after. She shakes her head and gives a simple answer.

“It was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Her aunt raises an eyebrow at her niece but the expression is lost due the growls that roared over the conversation. With a blush on her cheeks, Chelsea speaks.

“I guess it’s time for dinner.”

“My stomach seemed to agree as well.”

Katrina holds out her arm and Chelsea gets up from her chair, links her own arm into Kat’s and  smiles at her.

“McDermots?”

“You know me so well.”

The two say their goodbyes to everyone as they made their exit, Chelsea looked back to make sure Katrina followed and she caught once again her aunt exchanging heated glances with Ethan. She noted to herself to ask more about the two.

“Auntie Kitty, you good?”

With a nod, the Michaels women left Donahues and headed toward Chelsea’s car.

As they approached the bright neon pink 2015 Stuttgart 999 Widow, Katrina’s gait slowed down.

“You’re kidding? This is your car?! There’s no way my brother cosigned on this baby, even though she’s gorgeous.”

She slowly rubs her hand over the hood of the car.

“He didn’t. It was a gift from a friend.” Chelsea says quickly as she unlocks the doors and gets into the driver’s seat and starts the ignition.

The hum of the engine shook Katrina from her inspections and she entered the passenger seat, failing to keep her shock off her face. As Chelsea pulls out of the parking lot and cruises down the road, Katrina’s eyes lock on a picture strip that hangs on the visor. In it, she saw different poses of the same couple. Chelsea and some young man with chocolate brown skin, dark hair with a matching beard. In each photo, the two were pressed together smiling or laughing and in the last still, the two had their foreheads pressed against the other as their lips were inches apart.

“Who’s that?”

Chelsea looks up to what her aunt points at and mentally curses for not hiding the photo.

“He’s...he’s no one.”

Concerned at a cold response, she pressed further.

“I doubt it. He looks like someone important. And you look important to him too,”

Chelsea presses on the gas pedal and Katrina holds her door handle as the car begins to accelerate faster and faster.

“ Looked. E-d as in past tense. Either way, it doesn’t matter.” she replied sharply.

“One, watch the attitude and two, slow down. And clearly, it does.” Katrina chides.

With her patience running thin and out of frustration, Chelsea veers off to park in an empty spot on the side of the road with a harsh brake. The two jolt forward and then back into their seats.

“Drop it!” She squeezes the steering wheel tightly, ignoring the crazy look her aunt was giving her. In a small voice, she continues.

“...Please.”

A tense silence fills the air as they sit momentarily. After a few minutes, she pulls back into traffic and sighs.

“It all started with my clumsiness and not watching where I was going.”

An hour passed as the two found themselves out on the balcony of Katrina’s apartment looking over the city. Katrina sips slowly on a glass of wine as she leans onto the rail next to her niece. The lights below them dazzle into the night. Chelsea breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Now I forget you’re grown up now so I really can’t pull the ‘I’m the adult’ card but just don’t get used to raising your voice at me.”

“Of course, but--”

Katrina waves her hand dismissively.

“I shouldn’t have pushed too far. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

Chelsea shoots her small smile and she shakes her head in disagreement.

“I appreciate it, but it still isn’t an excuse for me to lash out.”

She then pulls her scrunchie out her bun and runs her fingers through her curls as she continues.

“Talking about Logan, just thinking about him at times is hard. Many would brush it off as a whirlwind romance or young stupid love, but I know they’re wrong. Deep down-- deep down what we had is real. Well, it was.”

She wanders from the railing and sits down, her back against the windowpane.

“I know I have my whole future to look to. I know there will be other guys but then again I don’t want there to be anyone else. And I don’t want my future to not have Logan in it. What can I say? I love him. I love him so much.” she admits, her eyes glisten at the weight being lifted off her heart.

Katrina sets down her glass as she crouches closer to her niece and holds her close, rubbing soothing circles on her back. A quiet cry flows out as she sits in the arms of Katrina. She whispers into the crying teen’s ear.

“It’s okay. Love is beautiful and at times, a painful thing. Especially when it’s your first love. I know it seems like--”

Through sobs, Chelsea chokes out.

“That’s the issue though! This wasn’t some typical boy meets girl. This was special! Right now he’s out there-- somewhere and I’m missing him so much, wondering if he’s safe. Secretly hoping he didn’ forget me. This hollowness that’s settled is suffocating me. I feel so incomplete. In my mind, only one person can make me whole again. No one seems to understand that. Do you know what it’s like to want someone so bad but can’t be with them? Because if you can’t then I don’t want to hear some patronizing--”

Katrina lets go of her niece so that she’s looking directly in her eyes. As she cuts her off.

“You’re not the only one.”

Chelsea wipes her eyes as her aunt turns away to look out to the city skylight.

“You feel like you’ll drown under these intense emotions. No matter how hard you try, every thought leads back to him. When the wind lightly caresses your skin, you remember the way he’d kiss you softly. And it takes everything in your power not to run to them, risk it all just to have their love even though everything points to why you can’t be together. So yes, I know exactly how you feel.”

She turns back to find Chelsea’s eyes glue onto her.

“It’s him, isn’t it. Dr. Ramsey.” Chelsea whimpers.

Her aunt scoots closer to the teen and rests her head on top of hers.

“Yeah. Ethan and I...well it’s complicated.”

“I could tell. You both stop when around the other, you forget anyone else is even near.”

“I never thought the man I looked up to would become my colleague, much less someone I’d care so deeply for.”

Chelsea traces small patterns on her jeans as she asks.

“Are you sure you two can’t work something out?

“At the moment, no. There are too many variables. Politics of the hospital, gossip, my reputation, the list goes on.” she sighs.

“So there’s two Michaels women shit out of luck in the romance department?”

“Misery loves company. You see, we’re victims of circumstances and fate’s misfortune. We were dealt a shitty hand and this part of life folded.”

The two sit in small silence, letting the hums of street life surround them. Not too long Chelsea speaks.

“Will it ever get better? How do we cope?”

Katrina reaches to grasp her niece’s hand and squeezes.

“ With time, it will. To cope is another battle within itself. I think for that, we have to do something slightly dangerous.”

Chelsea lifts her head, forcing Katrina to lift her own and look down at the teen.

“What’s that?”

“Hope. Hope that one day that our loves still have a chance. To believe that in time, they’ll come back to us.”

Chelsea takes in what her aunt says and with no hesitation latches herself onto the older woman, hugging her tight.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you. It's nice to have someone who understands.”

“It is.”

The two sat there in their embrace, filled with a new kindle of optimism that only lingered before.

Tagged: @silverlitskies​

End Note: If anyone else reads this and enjoys and like to be tagged in any future crossover fics, just let me know!

[hustlebonezzzz]

We need to talk about Courage the Cowardly Dog

In what seems like a stream of relentless plagues, wildfires burn around the world, billions of desert locusts swarm and threaten African crops, and of course, COVID-19. How could we forget about COVID-19? The bright side of a world-wide pandemic is that this quarantine has provided ample time to revisit shows the shaped my childhood. When I was a kid, Courage the Cowardly Dog was my absolute favorite, hands down. 

The title sequence explains the show perfectly:

“We interrupt this program to bring you… Courage the Cowardly Dog Show, starring Courage, the Cowardly Dog! Abandoned as a pup, he was found by Muriel, who lives in the middle of nowhere with her husband, Eustace Bagge! But creepy stuff happens in Nowhere. It's up to Courage to save his new home!”

And that’s it. Crazy stuff happens, and Courage is left to try and save the day. As I watch it now, I can’t ever picture a show like this being aired today. Many times I’d catch myself thinking, “They let this air??” Some of the episodes are straight-up disturbing or tear jerking

An episode that is both disturbing and tearjerking is “The Mask.” This episode tackles subjects such as same-sex relationships, domestic abuse, and sexual assault. These elements are heavily present within the episode, yet are veiled behind a funny children’s show. The veil is lifted when viewing the episode with adult eyes, and it becomes a realistic animated drama.

The beginning of the episode starts with Courage relaxing outside his home and minding his own business. Suddenly, a frightening masked individual walks onto the scene and beats Courage, all while proclaiming a hatred for dogs. This scene is hilarious as a child for the sheer slapstick humor element. 

The masked figure smashes Courage with a sink because “Dogs are evil.”

We later learn that the masked individual is a cat named Kitty. Kitty hates and beats Courage because he is a dog, and she associates all dogs with an evil dog that is keeping her best friend captive in an abusive relationship. Her best friend is a bunny named Bunny, and her abusive boyfriend is called Mad Dog. Mad Dog is a thug. 

Courage, being the gentle and kind soul he is, decides that the best way to get Kitty to leave him alone is to save her best friend Bunny and show that not all dogs are like Mad Dog. So, in the dead of night, Courage sneaks out and goes to the rundown industrial zone where Bunny is being held captive. A car with blaring hip-hop music comes to a screeching halt in front of a building with busted and boarded up windows. Courage watches and cowers behind another car while Mad Dog aggressively pulls Bunny out of the car. Her facial expression is empty and sad. They enter the building and Courage spies through the window. Mad Dog is upset that Bunny is visibly unhappy, and suspects that she’s thinking about her best friend, Kitty. 

Although we don’t see it, Mad Dog decides to beat Bunny up for thinking about Kitty and not being happy with him. We are only left with this frame:

Bunny is shoved into a pot after being beat by Mad Dog.

As I watched this scene, I was in shock. As a kid, you just assume that he throws her around and roughs her up a bit before throwing her into a giant pot with dirt. Hell, this scene might even be funny to a child. Now, this appears to be an obvious metaphor for feeling dirty or soiled after being sexually assaulted. Bunny was not just being beat up. This episode also does a great job of showing the psychological manipulation that is a part of an abusive relationship. While yelling at Bunny, Mad Dog says “I told you to forget her! I take you from a two-bit joint and make you a class act and you want to make me second rate!” It’s incredible how Mad Dog tries to manipulate Bunny into thinking that this life is the best she could ever get as he screams at her in a dirty, run-down apartment.

The emotional manipulation only continues as Mad Dog tries to comfort her afterwards, asking why things can’t be like the good ol’ days when she still loved him. He makes it seem as if it is her fault for being clearly depressed because of this physically, sexually, and emotionally abusive relationship.

Mad Dog tries to comfort Bunny after lashing out on her for thinking about Kitty.

By the end of the episode, Courage the cowardly dog saves the day and breaks Bunny out of her prison. Kitty and Bunny are reunited and run away together by hopping on a train and never looking back. 

Bunny and Kitty embrace each other after finally being reunited

So yes, this series has always maintained a creepy and provocative vibe throughout its duration, and undoubtedly has some dark themes and screwed up moments intertwined. These subverted themes only become more prevalent the older you get. You don’t notice these surreal elements as a child, and I don’t think you’re supposed to. I certainly didn’t see anything wrong with “The Mask” in my youth. Yeah, of course I felt sympathy for Kitty and Bunny, but there was a happy ending and that made it all okay for me. I saw the slapstick humor of it all, which is the kind of humor that really resonates with kids. It is a vital part of most children’s programming. Without it, this show wouldn’t be for kids, that’s for sure. 

“The Mask” of course isn’t the only episode that touches on sexual abuse. In “Freaky Fred,” Muriel’s creepy barber nephew comes for a visit. Fred speaks through child-like rhymes and always ends it with how he’s been very “naaaaauuuughty.” Naughty is said in a way that is all too sexual, uncomfortable, and violating, whether you are a child or an adult. The innuendo behind the uttering of “naughty” becomes more apparent to a mature audience. 

In this episode, Fred the creepy barber corners Courage in the bathroom and forcibly shaves his pink fur, all while confessing to his compulsive urges to force himself upon others and shave off their hair. He recites a poem about his first victim while doing so: “This dripping here, this droopy curl, unfold sweet memories of a girl, whose tresses, oh they’d twist and twirl, and tempt me to be… naughty.” 

To put it bluntly, it seemed like this scene was mirroring sexual assault based on the dialogue and the overall mood portrayed. Fred likes to force his apparent hair shaving fetish onto anyone who is vulnerable that he can get alone. By the end of the episode, we find out that Fred was committed to a mental institution and escaped. The authorities show up to Courage’s home and take him back. 

Fred’s character design alone only points to him being up to no good, and the smile never leaves his face. 

Fred gazes menacingly at Courage before proceeding to forcibly shave his fur off. 

If sexual abuse is on the table for this series, they certainly wouldn’t shy away from covering parental abuse. In the multiple episodes that feature Eustace’s mother, the audience comes to learn why Eustace’s character is a crotchety old man who takes joy in tormenting and scaring Courage. Throughout all of the episodes, Eustace yells “Stupid dog!” at Courage. It’s even a part of the opening title sequence. When Eustace’s mother, Ma Bagge, is introduced, we quickly notice that she is just like Eustace.  She constantly yells “Stupid boy!” at Eustace and berates him at any chance she gets. For the first time ever, we feel sympathy for one of the most hated characters on the show. Eustace’s whole shtick comes from being mean and cranky. It all comes together and we see that Eustace is but a product of his mother’s emotional abuse, a cycle that we often see in the real world. Other episodes detail his painful childhood, showing that deep down, a mean and cruel old man is not who he truly is. Episodes show that throughout his entire life, he constantly tried to win the love and affection from his mother, however, she always found fault in him and he was never good enough. 

Eustace presents gifts to his mother, Ma Bagge, in hopes of winning her approval.

As said previously, many of the episodes aren’t dark and twisted on the surface from a child’s point of view, but an episode that is heartbreaking whether you are a child or an adult is “Remembrance of Courage Past.” This episode details Courage’s origin story. We see that Courage once had loving dog parents that adored him. Courage’s parents take him to the vet, but in a strange turn of events, his parents are locked in a rocket and blasted into space by the sadistic veterinarian. There isn’t really any rhyme or reason, the vet is just plain evil. The vet asks to speak to the parents in private, and Courage is ushered into the waiting room. He later hears his parents crying out for help and he sees them being carried away in a net by the vet. Baby Courage follows them and sees his parents stuffed into a rocket. Baby Courage is unable to save them because the veterinarian notices that he is in the room and begins to chase him. Baby Courage escapes through a shoot that leads to an alleyway. From here, he watches the rocket blast off and waves goodbye as he cries. This is where Muriel finds him all alone and adopts him as her own. 

Left: Courage’s parents cry out for help from inside the rocket.

Right: Muriel finds Courage all alone in the alley and takes him in.

Seriously, this episode is so sad. We learn that Courage wasn’t truly “abandoned as a pup.” Courage deeply fears losing his current family because of how his real parents were ripped away from him. It was a tearjerker then, and it still is now. Now, he simply can’t bear the thought of ever losing his family again. This motivates him throughout the entire series to save his family no matter what the obstacles and no matter how scared he is.

Now all of the episodes that have been covered thus far were terrifying in their own way, yet there is one episode that continues to linger in the minds of its viewers. The episode in question? “King Ramses Curse.”  But why this episode?

First, a quick plot overview: Courage finds an ancient artifact in their yard. It turns out to be a cursed slab that was stolen from a museum. The police were hot on the museum robbers trail, so they ditched it in Courage’s yard. A resurrected King Ramses appears at their home to retrieve it. However, Eustace found out earlier that day that the slab is worth millions and won’t let King Ramses have it back, despite King Ramses threatening to send 3 plagues, each worse than the last.

King Ramses first tries to drown them, and for a kids show, I’ll admit that it’s pretty intense, but expected at this point. I audibly uttered “Now that’s a curse” as I rewatched. The next plague is just forcing them to listen to a really bad song, bringing the humor element back in and giving a break from the horror. Back to the horror, the last plague is a swarm of locusts that destroys everything in its path. In the end, Eustace refuses to relinquish the slab as Ramses menacingly looms over him. The episode concludes with Eustace being trapped in a sarcophagus, crying out for help. But the unfolding of these surely traumatic events isn’t what scared me as a youngin’.

So why did this episode scare so many children including myself? Simply put, the visuals.

King Ramses, was a 3D-animation overlayed on a 2D-background. Frankly, late 90s and early 2000s 3D-animation was a little creepy looking in general. The art of 3D-animation was still a work in progress. Hell, Disney and Pixar were still trying to perfect it with Toy Story. 

King Ramses stands outside the home of Courage.

Courage the Cowardly Dog had a highly experimental animation style considering the time in which it aired, 1996-2002. The animators didn’t stick to only 2D-animation alone, but instead incorporated elements of live-action, claymation, and 3D-computer animation, amongst other things. The show really had a knack for mixing mediums. What made this show so generally creepy was the way the mixed mediums didn’t fit in with the familiar 2D-animation style. It was unexpected and unsettling. 

Left: Example of live-action element

Middle: Example of 3D-computer animation

Right: Example of claymation featured in the show

While revisiting Courage, I can’t help but notice how this series hones in on the feeling of helplessness and life’s unpredictability. These aspects are part of why this show can be a bit traumatizing to young viewers. Yet this series still shows the value of hanging in there no matter what and doing the best you can despite the circumstances, just like Courage the cowardly dog. 

At the end of the day, elements like the underlying adult themes and the visuals made Courage the Cowardly Dog stand out when it first aired, and it's a show that continues to stand out against the ever changing social landscape. Comedy and horror aren’t synonymous in most of today’s cartoons. It’s been nearly 18 years since the last episode of Courage aired, and 18 years since Cartoon Network has aired a new horror cartoon. That alone is telling. Courage the Cowardly Dog was truly a product of its time and still sparks debates today with its gloomy narratives on society. Cartoons like this are so special because there may never be anything like it again. Even the creators were surprised that they got the OK to air the show, and I’m grateful that they did. 

[chocosvt]

⚬ pairing: soonyoung x fem!reader. ⚬ word count: 12.8K. ⚬ warnings: drugs, alcohol. ⚬ genres: theme of unrequited love, friends to lovers, romance, a good dosage of angst, fluff to mend your heart, spiciness near the end.

✧✎ synopsis: there are lots of bits and pieces that come with being a best friend and soonyoung is certainly taking his time in figuring them out. was it right for his stomach to somersault at the sound of your laughter? was it normal his smile fell when junhui took your hand? he isn’t exactly sure what a best friend really is, but he’s sure of what it’s not.

✧✎ a/n: this was requested to me awhile ago! anon asked for a hoshi!best friend confession w lots of fluff. but ME being ME. i literally cannot write anything without turning it into some angsty, love-laced, fluffy fuckin roller coaster of ??? so..um.. yes… enjoy!!!

If Soonyoung had one wish, he would – without question – wish to glean the thoughts of others, to understand the precise lettering in their head when he stared them in the eyes. Sure, it was kind of lame in comparison to something like invisibility, the power of flight, a wish for a hundred more wishes, but he didn’t really care about those things because they didn’t apply in any way to the one thing he did truthfully did care about: you.

He knew he was rather eccentric to say the least, and maybe that caused some people to glance at him strangely, develop their own notions concerning his variety of behaviours. Soonyoung knew that you at first saw him that way too, and he was perfectly content with that. However the pathway into your thoughts soon became blurry when your relationship escalated.

Because at this moment you were ‘best friends.’

At least in the premature days of your friendship Soonyoung had been fully certain you thought him to be bizarre and oddly energetic. But things were largely different now. The more you know about a person, the more your head fills and fills with the shiny bits of their character; everything that makes them, well, them.

And sometimes the people you meet are so outstanding that you can’t even pluck one word down from a sky full of twinkling adjectives to describe them. So how was Soonyoung supposed to live comfortably when he looked deep within your eyes and couldn’t read their writing? What did you think of him besides a best friend? Did you ever let your mind wander beyond that? He was itching terribly to see within your mind.

Yet he was equally suppressing a fear that you could perhaps gauge into his own galaxy of notions, that you could fix the constellations together and see how Soonyoung’s thoughts about you delved much further than friendship. Hopefully if a genie ever approached you, you would never pick to have the same wish as him. You were more of the invisibility type anyways. 

Soonyoung was a dancer. It built into a passion that burned him hotter than bubbling wax, a compulsion to illustrate an entire story through the art of his movements.

Dancing invited more blessings into his life than setbacks. Twisting an ankle was temporary, but turning the lights off on Lee Chan to hear his high-pitched scream pierce through the practice room walls was forever. Aside from meeting Chan, Soonyoung came to know Minghao, the boy with a knack for photography.

He was always outside the studio at dawn taking pictures of cobwebs that sparkled with dew, or the mute colours belonging to the downtown street as they would blend against a soft, lavender sky. Soonyoung was so extraordinarily close with both boys that he thought it was time to start warming up to the studio’s newest addition, the sharp-featured, broad-shouldered, incredibly long-legged Wen Junhui.

The studio was full today. Chan was busy mounting his iPod to the doc station, Minghao was highly concentrated on tying his sneaker, and even you were there, sitting in a chair off to the corner sipping impetuously from a milk tea and thumbing through your phone. Soonyoung loved having you visit the studio during his training. There was such a prideful glow that encompassed his chest at viewing your complete awe of his performances.

Junhui was the last to arrive. He pulled off his long, wool trench coat and tossed it onto a hook after the duffle bag slid from his shoulder onto the polished floor. Beneath the heavy coat he wore a simple white t-shirt and black sweatpants. When Soonyoung caught a peripheral glimpse of himself in the anterior mirrors, he did a double-take, subsiding with the fact he was wearing exactly the same as Junhui, even down to the stripes along the leg.

There wasn’t much versatility available when it came to practice clothes. It was of course more appropriate if they were loose, comfortable, and breathable. Minghao was usually the one to come in a wide array of outfits since fashion was another dominant area of his life, but still, Soonyoung found his gaze trailing to the mirror a little too frequently to switch between himself and Junhui. He looked at you as well, but you had yet to note Junhui’s presence.

Not that it needed to be a competition.

“So, do you guys just jump in or…? Do you do some stretching, an exercise?” Junhui asked whilst swaying back and forth, his hands awkwardly digging into his hips.

Minghao looked at Chan, but Chan was looking at Soonyoung who was looking at you who was looking at Junhui. It was a mouthful, but the point was that Junhui wore the expression of tiresomely holding a grin much too long for a family photo, desperately waiting for someone to cut the tension and throw him a bone. Soonyoung was sort of the captain who orchestrated the practices, so he took initiative, pulled his gaze from you, and smiled warmly at the newcomer.

“Yeah, we do a bit of stretching first, and play some music to get pumped up. Minghao got you caught up with the choreography for our newest project, right?”

Junhui carded his fingers through his black hair, though the tresses simply flopped back to their initial curtain over his forehead. “Yes,” He then said, “I’ve got it all down.”

“Great,” Soonyoung replied enthusiastically, (he heard your muffled cackle escape the hand tightly woven across your mouth, but chose to ignore you), “Better get started then. How’s the music working, Chan?”

“It’s set up. Do you have any suggestions?”

Soonyoung saw you cross your legs and take a notably loud sip from what remained of your tea. He scoffed playfully at you and inquired, “Do you have a suggestion, [Y/N]?”

“Why yes, I do, thank you for asking,” You responded whilst eyeing him with a composure that suggested you were withholding laughter, “I think that you should play Life is a Highway for your warm-up song.”

Minghao snorted almost too quickly, “You’re so funny.”

“Shut up,” You toed off your flats before tucking your legs close to your chest, “You guys play the same three songs every time. I’m trying to spice up your boring lives.” It was then that your gaze fell upon Soonyoung, and for a split second a tiny, electric jolt smoothed up the length of his spine, the imploring glint of your eyes already sanding away his resistance.

“Please can you play something different, Soonyoung?” You cooed.

Like a wilted flower, he was far too weak to conjure the strength to protest. “Okay, okay,” He agreed, “But it’s Chan’s iPod. He has to have the song.”

“I have a suggestion,” Junhui’s dulcet voice suddenly intervened after remaining quiet amongst the dispute, naming some song Soonyoung had never heard of in his life.

Immediately you squealed from your perch, your hands flailing about, “I love that song!”

Soonyoung heard Junhui’s laughter for the first time, brassy and in short breaths, his face pulling taunt in a wide, ear-to-ear smile that let his teeth and their rosy gums show. You were beaming in Junhui’s direction, babbling on and on about the artist and your love of her music as the boy eagerly nodded and continued brightly laughing. Soonyoung felt his chest tighten, like it was trapped within a balloon that had just popped, the thin plastic pulling so harshly it was almost suffocating. The feeling only became more apparent when he looked between you and Junhui.

“I don’t think I have that song…” Chan mumbled as he flicked through his playlists.

Soonyoung breathed out almost gratefully, “That’s okay, we ca—,”

“I have it actually,” Junhui piped up, “Would you mind using my iPod instead?”

Chan shrugged, “I’ll hook it up for you.”

“Awesome,” Junhui chirped before diving into his duffle bag.

Minghao had finally popped up from the ground and was making his way across the room to grab a water bottle. Soonyoung joined him, and together they hovered at the opposing corner whilst Chan, Junhui and you included swarmed the doc station. Soonyoung couldn’t evade the manner in which his stare adhered to you beside Junhui, how you titled your head up at him, eyes seemingly enchanted.

There was a bitter taste washing into his mouth, though it certainly wasn’t the water. He felt Minghao nudge his shoulder, a warm chuckle then fanning against his ear,

“Careful with Jun, or else you might not have a best friend any longer.”

Soonyoung didn’t possess the right heart to laugh, so he feigned a lousy scoff and began walking toward the centre of the room, the music at last easing through the speakers and echoing between the glossy wood as well as the high ceiling. You returned to your chair, grinning with pleasure and chewing at the straw of your emptied milk tea. Soonyoung was stretching, occasionally tracing his movement in the mirror, though he faced ample distraction.

You usually watched Soonyoung stretch, but now you were watching someone else, and that horrendous, tight feeling in his chest stayed with him throughout all of practice.

Considering that Soonyoung spent nearly an entire day at the dance studio, he was expecting to feel nothing short of fatigue; a particular drowsiness that might tug at his eyelids until it became a chore to keep them locked open. Most days he went to the studio a little earlier than lunch so he could have an excuse to go out on the town and eat with his friends. Besides, they often played nonsensical games, such as whoever tapped the light switch last was the one to pay for the entire meal.

It was usually Chan who lost since he was always occupied with something else whilst his older friends were deciding the game. However, Minghao generously payed the most, taking advantage of a vacant table to call over the server whilst Soonyoung and Chan were discussing the scent of the soap in the washroom.

This particular morning, Soonyoung received a text bright and early from Minghao, his phone vibrating next to his disheveled, spiky hair as an amber spool of sunlight slanted through his curtains. The next thing he knew, he was standing on the bridge just a block down from the studio with Minghao kneeling across the street, setting up what he referred to as ‘an immaculate shot’ of Soonyoung against the sky’s flush, peachy pink colour, illuminated beneath the fire of sun rays.

“I just needed someone to model,” Minghao explained as they walked back to the studio together, “You were one of the first people to come to mind.”

“Awe,” Soonyoung crooned, the faint blush on his cheeks identical to the hue that blotted the sky, “Thanks.”

But then Minghao had to go and throw a bucket of water over Soonyoung’s happiness.

“Next to Junhui. You know, when I first saw him in the studio I wanted to ask if he had ever experimented with modelling. He’s quite defined, like his face was cut from marble or something. He opened up to me a bit when I was catching him up with our dance. He did a lot of acting when he was younger, went to one of the most prestigious schools in Shenzhen, and won first place in a bunch of piano and Wushu competitions. Can you believe that?”

There was that feeling again, that stupid bitter feeling that made itself painfully known by wedging into Soonyoung’s chest like a wooden splinter. He had only walked a short distance from the bridge, but he hardly contained enough breath in his lungs to even sound fascinated or deeply intrigued. Junhui had never given Soonyoung any reason to formulate malice toward him, so why was such a sullen atmosphere suddenly clouding his mood?

“He’s a pretty extraordinary guy,” Soonyoung commended whilst staring straight ahead.

Minghao huffed, sounding marvelled, “No kidding. I mean, yeah, he’s kinda odd, but he’s got a hundred lifetimes beneath all those trench coats. We should invite him to eat with us next time.”

Soonyoung wasn’t properly filtering his thoughts. Suddenly he scoffed, “Yeah, I bet he’s a world class chef too. He’ll just whip up the whole meal from thin air at the drop of a hat.”

Laughter immediately bloomed from Minghao’s chest, the younger then slouching an arm around a stiff Soonyoung’s shoulders and lightly punching him in his side, “I think he has some experience in cooking! Sounds like you need to talk to him more.”

“I think we talk plenty,” Soonyoung earnestly defended whilst steering away from his friend’s grasp, knowing that plenty in his own dictionary meant: ‘as much as I think is necessary, so probably once or twice.’

When Soonyoung was nearing the end of his day at the studio with Minghao, you made the decision to swing by and bring them take-out from a small family business down the street. He was so hungry that hardly any conversation clung to the air apart from slurping, chewing, and drinking noises. Minghao tried to be more civil in his eating, but Soonyoung had known you for so long that he could eat like a starved animal and still meet your warm, adoring gaze afterward.

You then walked back to Soonyoung’s place together, smiling and laughing and haphazardly bumping into each other as day faded into night, fully expecting to receive a brutal shove that made him stumble off the sidewalk in consequence. Whilst Soonyoung took a shower, you threw yourself happily onto his bed, flipping through old comic books that had the particular scent of aged paper and fiddling with his Rubik’s cube that never seemed to change colours apart from when you touched it.

Soonyoung remembered the few times you’d asked him why he kept all this stuff.

He always said something along the lines of, “Oh, y’know, I’m gonna start hoarding now so I can get on TLC,” when in reality it was a far fonder reason that engendered his skin to surge with an embarrassed but candour heat.

He kept them because of you. He was in love with the way you looked when you lay perfectly content across his bed still rumpled from morning, smiling faintly at the fragile, yellowed pages of the old comics he kept on the shelf because you always read them. He was in love with the whittled concentration on your face as you hunched over the Rubik’s cube he won at some spelling bee in the tenth grade, valiantly twisting the cubes, adorably huffing when it was never quite right.

Soonyoung was in love with how you were always patiently waiting for him to emerge from the shower, head poking up from the mattress, your eyes drawn to him as though he were brilliantly glowing. He never got used to the feeling of his heart jumping so profoundly in his chest when you fell asleep beneath his bedsheets either, even when you promised you could stay awake for ten minutes at least as he dried off his hair with a towel.

No matter how many times it had happened, he still felt the same. He still had this feeling that never quieted.

In fact, it blared incessantly when he was with you, demanded to be released because there would come a point when Soonyoung would be incapable of compressing it any longer.

Now that the day was approaching its final chapters, and the sky had bled out its soft, rosy colours into patches of cobalt and dark indigo, Soonyoung wasn’t at all exhausted like he expected. Maybe it was because he had you tucked close against his side, your leg strewn over his lap, your arm curled around his stomach like a tight wire that never lost its shape. He could feel the gentle warmth of your breathing tickle his neck as your head cozied at his shoulder.

Together your eyes were transfixed on the sea of stars that speckled the sky, stretching so far and wide you almost believed you could see the Earth’s curve. It looked like a silk sheet that had been pricked by a thousand pins, leaving tiny breaks of luminescence to shine through from a different world that perhaps constantly glistered with light. A few meters away at the floor of your feet burned a small fire, slowly crackling out its embers.

He was only in his backyard, yet having you pressed so close with entire galaxies looking down on him, Soonyoung felt that he could be in a paradise beyond anyone’s comprehension. It was his paradise, but it only became complete when you were in it with him.

And maybe tonight as you leaned against half an oak trunk, entwined beneath an endless sky and a fire prickling at your feet, its light capturing your expressions like a photo frame, would Soonyoung unearth the courage to confess his heart to you.

“[Y/N],” He hummed, rolling his shoulder gently, “You still awake?”

When you shifted your gaze to blink up at him, your faces were in such proximity that Soonyoung could count each of the golden flames that reflected in your eyes.

“I guess,” You replied, laughing slightly at your own humour, “What’s up?”

This was it, the perfect moment to confess, to put his one wish into action and finally comprehend the pictures your mind illustrated when he intruded your thought. Soonyoung hadn’t planned much to say in advance, he was more about spontaneity, seizing moments as they came rather than charging a current that would never crackle. There was nothing to distract you from each other, just the black sky and cool earth that remained silent as Soonyoung pressed you closer against him with the arm wrapped around your waist.

“Well, actually,” He began, knowing there was quite literally nothing that could make his confession any easier, “I want to tell you something, and I’ve been meaning to say it for a while now, but it’s not like, the simplest thing to tell somebody, especially your best friend, so if it sounds stupid and just totally incoherent then…”

You set your palm on his chest. The very second your stare met his frantic eyes that fluttered faster than a hummingbird’s wings, a weight dropped to the soles of his feet. How was it possible that someone could make him so downright nervous, yet so enamoured and spellbound at the same time? You giggled at how tongue-tied he was. Soonyoung’s laughter mixed with yours, but it was evidently uneasy and oddly breathy and the sincerity of your gaze had brought his heart to pulsate in his throat.

Your brow stitched together as your hand continued to lay on his chest, the mellifluous, innocent chime of your giggles replaced by accumulating concern.

“Gosh, your heart is beating a hundred miles a minute, Soonie. Are you feeling okay?”

No, he fought off the dire urge to scream, but somehow found a single tassel of composure to latch onto. He thought he would be able to elaborate, but then your hand rose from his chest and suddenly your fingertips were brushing softly along his jawline, stroking the sweltering skin with a gaze that could melt thick slabs of titanium. He wasn’t sure if you were attempting to calm him, but it certainly did the exact opposite.

You appeared so innocent beneath the moonlight, yet the fire’s orange glow ignited half your face with such an intense beauty he could hardly break his desire to kiss you right then and there.

Okay, Soonyoung thought, I know what I’m going to say. He’d swallowed the remaining taste of his fear, nodded confidently, and took your hand that sweetly grazed his jaw to hold within his own grasp. But then—

Something buzzed in your jean pocket. And then it buzzed again, and again, and again. You heavily sighed whilst fishing for the device, a lurid sheen bathing your face as you separated from Soonyoung to check your messages. His entire chest thundered to the floor, shattering as though it were a glass vase, his confidence and composure instantly seeping away like the water inside that once gave life to the vase’s beautiful flowers.

When you turned back to look at him, an apologetic glimmer in your eyes, Soonyoung had this sinking feeling his confession wasn’t meant to be tonight.

“I forgot I asked Junhui to pick me up. He’s waiting out front.”

Soonyoung nearly choked. “Junhui’s picking you up? Usually I drive you home.”

“I know, I know,” You replied quietly whilst staring into your lap, “But I thought you would be tired after such a long day, I didn’t want to bother you. Besides, Junhui was really happy to do it, you should have seen him.”

As much as Soonyoung yearned to argue, he wasn’t about to leave what was once a perfect and spectacular night on an unpleasant note. He simply nodded. Your heat that had encompassed his body drifted away into the night as he grabbed the pail next to the fire, silently dousing out the entrancing flames and glowing embers in a tiny hiss. He saw your frown when he set the pail down and led you inside, your arms folded over your chest as the cold air suddenly nipped into your skin.

“That thing you wanted to tell me,” You murmured whilst standing at the doorway to his front porch, “How important was it? Can it wait?”

Soonyoung opened the door for you, smiling half-heartedly as you ducked under his arm and waved at Junhui who had the car running at the end of the driveway. Figuring he should wave too, Soonyoung gave a lousy toss of his hand, this cloud that was heavy and depressing growing denser and denser in his chest by the second.

“It can wait.” Soonyoung really had no other choice but to make that his verdict.

You smiled meekly at him, giving his cheek a small pat before stepping off the porch, hands delving into your pockets as Junhui popped from the driver’s seat to open the passenger door for you. Soonyoung observed how the contours of your face brightened when looking up at Junhui, how your laughter was already echoing into the crisp, chilled air. He wasn’t sure how to describe the feeling that rung through his body at watching you two together.

Soonyoung could only think of the once brilliant fire that lost its heat, its strength, to the wave of water that snuffed out its radiance in a mere second.

Maybe he felt something like that.

Soonyoung sat on a patchy green sofa that had at least four broken springs, ten coffee stains, and twenty-five burnt circles from cigarette ashes, feeling the lowest he had ever felt in his life. He kept purloining Minghao’s silver flask of cranberry vodka and partial gin to take quick, impetuous gulps, hating how the alcohol hardly stung his throat because he was just so damn numb to everything. The party was probably approaching its climax, yet in lieu of enjoying the raw energy Soonyoung was stuck on the stoner’s couch.

Minghao was next to him, but not because he wanted to be. He was simply cognizant to the fact that when Soonyoung let his melancholy consume him, he became even more unpredictable and his behaviour could spike at any given moment. Minghao would rather not get trapped in the whirlwind of his friend’s rage, though he figured he could keep him settled with more vodka if that storm were to start brewing.

Wonwoo orchestrated the stoner’s corner like it was his own business, constantly offering the use of his chrome grinder and organizing his rolling papers in case anyone had the instant urge for a hit. He offered Soonyoung a joint at least three times already. Minghao had declined each invitation for him since the sole thing Soonyoung did was unresponsively stare into the distance, but on the fourth attempt, he finally seemed to break from his musing and accept it.

Using the elder’s lighter, Soonyoung leaned forward with the blunt between his index and middle finger, giving sharp little sparks to the end of the paper until it began to slowly crisp. It had been awhile since he’d last gotten high, but the wispy curls of smoke he exhaled off his lips transiently distracted him from what he’d been blankly staring at. You and Junhui were situated at the base of the staircase across the room, looking with very evident ardour into each other’s eyes, smiling, flirtatiously brushing the other’s cheek or arm.

You were dating him, had been for the past six months.

Well, at least now Soonyoung knew what had been most occupying your thoughts, and it certainly wasn’t him. That initial jab to the chest when you first gushed to him about your new relationship with Junhui was absolutely one-hundred percent terrible. He didn’t think the pain could get much worse. But then the hole in his chest where that jab struck began slowly collecting with this estranged poison. As it filled and filled, the poison seeped and seeped, spreading throughout his body with the burning sensation of a wildfire.

The fire seemed to irreparably char his nerves.

In the beginning it unbearably hurt Soonyoung to see Junhui hug you, kiss you, stroke his fingertips down to your hip before pulling you tightly against his body. But then he noticed himself feeling nothing at those same sights that used to be so painful; there wasn’t even a crackle, a fizzle or a hiss. If he were to glean one feeling, it was emptiness. As he blew the smoke in gentle puffs from his mouth, alcohol scorching hot in his veins, Soonyoung found himself looking at you again.

He supposed that beneath the ashes his heart still beat, and it still beat because it refused to give up on how he felt about you.

He darkly eyed the flask in Minghao’s lap.

“Give me that,” the boy suddenly barked at his friend.

“Are you sure?” Minghao posed with concern, watching Soonyoung eagerly take another hit off his joint before he left it on the coffee table’s ash tray. “Do you want to step outside for a minute maybe? Get some fresh air?”

Soonyoung growled, “Just give me the fucking flask.” He’d already swiped it from his lap, hastily spinning the cap off and taking a long, deep gulp of whatever alcohol remained.

He didn’t even grimace after shoving the flask back into Minghao’s grip, instead scratched a hand through his thick, black hair, further disarraying the strands. Wonwoo had pretty much rolled over in his seat at this point, counting invisible sheep that jumped on the ceiling, and everyone else occupying the stoner’s corner was too blazed beyond coherence to even take note of Soonyoung’s sudden aggression.

Minghao opened his mouth, then silently closed it, following Soonyoung’s clouded gaze to where Junhui had you pressed against the wall, hands slowly squeezing down past your hips to the black fabric of your pleated skirt.

The manner in which your fingers slowly plunged through Junhui’s hair and tugged wantonly at the strands suggested what your mouths were busy with. It certainly was far from conversation. Maybe then Minghao understood what was racing through his friend’s mind as he rose from the couch, using Minghao’s shoulder to steady himself.

“Be right back,” Soonyoung mumbled, not squandering another breath as he weaved his way between small congregations, leaving Minghao to sit on the couch in slight bewilderment whilst the cogs turned in his head.

Feeling emboldened, Soonyoung marched right up to Junhui’s broad backside, an unusual calmness steadfast in his blood even when he could hear the way you softly moaned against the boy’s plump mouth. It could have been the alcohol, it could have been the intoxicating aroma of the blunt still lingering in the dense air, or it could have been the fact that Soonyoung just didn’t fucking care anymore. He was determined that this would be the night he at long last confessed his heart to you.

“W-What?” Junhui stuttered when Soonyoung tapped his shoulder, turning around in a disoriented fashion, his eyes lasciviously hooded and lips shiny.

You appeared to recognize Soonyoung before Junhui had. Surprise leapt across your face like a tidal wave, and whilst Junhui was still processing that someone had interrupted his make-out session, you were harshly swallowing, appearing overwrought beneath the dim lighting.

“Can I talk to you outside?” Soonyoung said very firmly, making it clear he was speaking to you and you only by gently grabbing your wrist.

You licked your lips, eyes darting between your boyfriend and Soonyoung, seemingly unsure on whether you should agree or not. Soonyoung was well aware of the fact he most likely reeked of alcohol and marijuana, his hair was completely strewn in every direction, his gaze not the clearest nor was his patience concretely stable, yet he still prayed that above his manic state you would be able to connect with him. He needed you to share a moment of your time now more than ever.

“Please,” Soonyoung implored, hardly able to care about the desperation rife in his words, “It’ll only take a few minutes.”

Junhui parted the lust curtain draping across his concentration, finally seeming to acknowledge the situation. Well, more like the situation he was more or so not included in.

It was then, as your hand fidgeted to properly hold Soonyoung’s, fingers fitting like puzzle pieces between his own that the boy knew he’d gotten his wish. You stepped away from the wall your body was once pressed against a mere minute ago, quickly stroking Junhui’s cheek whilst murmuring into his ear, “I’ll be right back. Sit tight.”

Junhui blinked a bit mistily, but nodded, allowing Soonyoung to guide you out the front door where the cool night air dusted his skin and refreshed his senses. There weren’t many people out front. A majority of them were walking along the end of the road, talking on their cellphones, presumably calling someone to pick them up or asking a friend where they were parked along the line of blinking car lights.

Soonyoung didn’t want to be too close to the house, nor did he want to be right at the curb. He just wanted to place enough distance between himself and the party that he could hear his own thoughts. You didn’t start asking questions until Soonyoung pulled you beneath the overhanging leaves of a willow tree near the property’s edge, your eyes glistening in disconcertment against the darkness, fingers wrapped around Soonyoung’s hand so tightly that he could feel his circulation dwindling.

“S-Soonyoung,” He heard the dry gulp between your words, “What are we doing out here?”

He then let go of your hand. Instead, he cupped your cheek, caressing in slow, gentle passes along the heated arch using his thumb. It was like the entire world became shrouded in silence as his touch grazed your skin, burning profoundly, with the strength of a catastrophic supernova.

“I’m in love with you.” He spoke softly. The words sounded vastly different aloud in lieu of in his head.

Your expression marginally twitched.

“I-I… What did you just say?”

“I know that sounds so fucking weird for you to hear,” Soonyoung murmured, his thumb pulling back to rub circles upon the sweet spot just in front of your ear, “And I know I couldn’t have picked a worse time but… I’m just so sick of pretending like I don’t look at you every day, wishing I could be more to you. I need you to hear this. I just—I need you to know how I feel about you.”

Soonyoung couldn’t help himself. He’d never felt this consumed by your beauty. Titling your head back, Soonyoung admired you, allowed himself to mellow in the firm warmth of your cheek beneath his palm, how he could only wish to have you closer and whisper everything about you in which he was infatuated by. Every little secret he’d kept hidden over the years, he wanted to tell you all of them, place kisses on your skin in the places that made you tick between each confession.

A breeze then whispered between the swaying fronds of the willow. It delightfully swept upon Soonyoung’s skin and transiently cooled the raging pulse that was practically electric in his veins.

Perhaps he was entranced, but you were a gigantic question mark. Your lips were parted, yet they made no sound. He could feel your pulse thundering behind your ear, yet you stood so still. Never seeing your expression like this before, Soonyoung could only breathe with the faintest rise in his chest. Evidently you were lost, you were panicking, and your eyes were screaming at him with everything he couldn’t read.

Eventually you budged. Your hand rose up and your fingers wrapped around his wrist. The touch could have been everything Soonyoung wanted most in the world.

“Why are you saying this? It’s because you’re drunk isn’t it? Or you’re just high. You have to be, or else... Or else I don’t understand…”

But instead that touch pulled Soonyoung’s comfortable palm from your face and returned it to his side.

“It’s not because – I mean yes, I am a little drunk and a little high – but I’m being completely one-hundred percent serious right now.”

The sheen of your gaze was noticeably lacquering, “You mean as a friend though, right?”

With every word that pursed at your lips, Soonyoung felt his hopes deflating.

“No, not as a friend. I want to be more than friends,” He found himself being verbose, but he couldn’t help in expressing his heart, every sentiment he’d locked inside it for as long as he could remember. His words, they openly flowed, the heat that inhabited his body mounting. “I want to be with you. I want to take you out on dates, wake up next to you, kiss you at the end of every day. I want to be the only person who’ll ever get to touch you, make you breathless but so, so happy. I’m in love with you.”

Emotions repressed to the deepest whorls of his being were welling up within him like rainwater, “What isn’t clicking?”

“What isn’t clicking?” You were beyond flustered repeating his question, soaked in pure bewilderment that clasped onto you, made you involuntarily rigid and tightly wound. “What do you expect me to say to that, Soonyoung? What are you expecting to happen?”

He tangled a hand through his hair, burying his fingers close to the scalp so that it stung and kept him grounded. “I… I don’t know. But I can’t keep it inside anymore.” A look of pain slotted across his face. “I even tried confessing to you that night we were together in my backyard, with the campfire. But it didn’t work out. Even before then I’ve wanted to say something—anything to you, but it’s just so petrifying and I’d never had anyone make me feel that nervous before.”

You were no longer holding eye contact. Your stare was glossing the grass, the stray tatters of dry leaves that had blown in from old wind, your body frozen from how overwhelmed you were feeling. It was only mere seconds that trickled past, though it felt like agonizing hours before you spoke again. Your voice was as strong as tattered cloth, nothing but wisps struggling to remain together.

“But why wait?... I-It’s just that... That you waited so long— ,”

“It’s really not easy, y’know?” Soonyoung chuckled, though it crumbled away in seconds, in the time it took his hand to collapse back at his side. “Having to pretend that you’re not in love with someone? That fucking eats away at you, [Y/N]. It’s the reason I’m telling you this. I just... I don’t want to be miserable anymore, thinking I’ll stop feeling this way about you when I know how untrue that is, when you’re on my mind twenty-four fucking seven and I can’t even sleep because of it.”

There was this sensation pushing at his tear ducts, incredibly hot, scalding even, but he was able to blink it away. However, perhaps you weren’t as tuned at concealing your emotions. A sniffle suddenly pervaded the silence and Soonyoung saw you wipe your hand beneath your eye, your stature shrinking inward akin to a flower kept hidden from the sun.

“I-I’m sorry, Soonyoung. I didn’t know you felt this way… I didn’t know it was bringing you all this pain and I—,” Your tongue peaked out to wet your lips as your fists clenched, nails burying upon the fragile flesh like crescent daggers, “I don’t know what to say to you. I-I don’t. I’m so fucking sorry. I just don’t have the words right now.”

In an instant his expression earnestly softened.

“Hey, c’mon,” He cooed whilst pulling down his sleeve to dot the first tear that had slipped down your cheek, glistening like a little pearl. He knew in the case of a sober Soonyoung, it would be impossible for him to formulate malice toward you because you couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. As elated as he would be for you to return the sentiment, there was still much for you to process.

However, with the weight of the alcohol and the intoxication of the blunt, he was far from sober. He could feel it dragging him down, could feel disarray teetering at his brain’s forefront like a performer balancing on a tightrope.

“It’s not at all your fault, okay?”

Yet he did his best to soothe you, to flatten the creases of your pain. Soonyoung moved timidly, unsure of whether he should pull you into an embrace, but as you sniffled once more and clutched the sleeves of his hoodie in need, he was gliding his arms around your neck, gently resting your head against his shoulder where he knew you were bound to find solace.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweetheart.” Sounded his tender murmur.

It almost felt like a dream, the fact he could stand here with you forever, beneath the slight rustling of willow branches brushed silver and the cool air that ghosted his skin in the gentlest reassurance. Clocks were turning, though the world certainly felt still where you were standing, seconds adding up into minutes as your hair tickled his nose and made Soonyoung smile to himself.

But there persistently remained a shadow prowling at his awareness, the live wires that sparked his senses becoming increasingly dull as the alcohol and marijuana burrowed deeper into his blood. For a fleeting moment he felt like he could be floating, almost as though his body were more weightless than the air sweeping his flushed face. Soonyoung suddenly wobbled. At first you didn’t seem to pay much attention, until his condition then veered toward the inevitable and he swayed slightly before leaning a little too far into you.

Soonyoung felt you shift in his arms.

“Are you okay?” You squeaked, but he couldn’t focus on even a single sector of your body as the rush to his head continued pumping. All Soonyoung registered was that you had stepped away from him.

“M’fine,” Came his slurred response. He stumbled a few misplaced steps toward you before finding his footing. Whatever composure and reason he once possessed, it was slipping, fast.

Your hands gripped his shoulders to steady him. Peaking up at him, watery-eyed and innocent, your mouth then opened. For a split second Soonyoung believed he was truthfully going to hear those three words echo quietly to him and his blood began boiling hot enough to bend metal, the world slightly spinning beyond your frame. Yet instead you were stepping away.

All that remained attached was your hand in his.

“Soonyoung, listen, you need to reunite with Minghao. Those drinks, whatever it was that you smoked, it’s getting to you, alright? We should really go back insid—,”

“Are you in love with me?” He blatantly interrupted, blinking widely and unconsciously speaking louder than beforehand.

Soonyoung watched as your mouth slowly gaped, heard the fluttering of a sentence catch in your throat. It seemed that very meticulously, you were choosing what to say.

“I... I love you but, not in the way that... I mean, I think you’re a really, really phenomenal friend, Soonyoung, and I value what we ha—,”

An impulsive flare whirled to life inside him. The sole thing that seized his body to the same amount as his alcohol and half-smoked joint were his emotions. He couldn’t evade how he cut you off, the words that catapulted from his tongue so distanced from what he would have said in his right mind.

“Don’t do that,” His voice sounded like it was going to split, heart plummeting faster than an anchor to its sand bed beneath the sea, “Y’know I want to be so much fucking more than that. I-I want you, need you, please.”

“I know, Soonyoung, and I wish more than anything that I had the words for you,” You unsteadily warbled, your lips trembling whilst an unprecedented type of hurt cracked between your words, “ I’m so, so sorry, but I just… I-I can’t. I’m with Junhui, and I’m committed—,”

Soonyoung sharply squeezed your hand, an abrupt, indignant pain welting on his tongue, “Y’re with him? When you walked away from getting fucked to be out here with me? With him but y-you’re always staying the night at my place... Fall asleep n’my bed, wear my sweaters in your underwear, kick your legs over my lap so you can have my h-hands on your skin. Say you’re with him but what do you really feel?”

“What are you doing?” A hiss ruptured your voice and the tone drastically flipped. “I’m still out here with you because I genuinely care about your feelings and want to hear you out. You’re the one trying to force this narrative that I don’t actually want to be with Junhui. How do you know what I’m feeling, Soonyoung? How do you expect me to walk back into that fucking party and face my boyfriend knowing my best friend just said he’s in love with me?”

Fingers sheathing tightly into the skin of your hand, he pulled you back into him, looking you square in the eyes. He saw how they pooled with constellations of emotion and turmoil, and they might have looked strikingly similar to his own if it weren’t for the alcohol masking the dark ore of his gaze, the lingering potency still settling from his joint.

“How do I know what you’re feeling? I know because I’m your best friend. I know you better than Junhui ever will.”

With your chin pointed up at him, leaning in so close Soonyoung could see the slight bruising on your lips from Junhui’s kisses, he had to fend off the overwhelming urge to cup your face in his hands – to do exactly what Junhui had done when your body was flush against that wall. Soonyoung wouldn’t care if Junhui walked outside and saw either, if the entire party rushed from within the house to watch his lips connect with yours beneath the willow tree.

Still, he knew there was no way he’d won your heart. In fact, through the thickening of his daze, he knew he’d made everything ten times worse. Instead you huffed at him, snapped your hand free, and whipped around with word that Minghao would be sent to fetch him. You abandoned him beneath the moonlight’s solemn rays, the canopy of drooping branches that enclosed him akin to a metal cage.

The most agonizing part of it all – Soonyoung having to accept the fact that maybe he didn’t know you as well as he thought he did, that all his wishes seemed to crumble when he needed their magic most.

“It’s almost ten o’clock. Did Junhui forget to roll out of bed or something?”

Chan was lying on the shiny hardwood, his arms stretched out behind him whilst he stared into the ticking clock above the mirrors. There had never been a time where Junhui was late to practice at the studio. He didn’t exactly prefer waking up at nine in the morning, which he made very apparent in his texts to the group chat, sending bathroom pictures of himself angrily brushing his teeth with his hair still spiked up on one side from his pillow.  

No one really knew how to respond to the pictures. Soonyoung used to say he only sent them despite just having flopped out of bed because he thought he looked good.

“I don’t know,” Soonyoung replied from his sitting position against the wall, using the outlet next to the coatrack to charge his phone, “Maybe he forgot to turn on his alarm.”

Chan sighed heavily and got to his feet, “Well, I don’t feel like waiting around. We can start the warmup without him.” He then mumbled something about getting his iPod set up, along with listing more reasons as to why Junhui could be late.

Soonyoung wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t really listening either. He hadn’t gotten a message from you in the past couple days, therefore drawing out this strange obsession that included him ceremoniously checking his phone for something that wasn’t even there. Before his confession at the party last month, you messaged Soonyoung quite frequently.

Before you started a serious relationship with Junhui, you had texted him every day.

The bond between you undoubtedly shifted, and Soonyoung believed that the world hadn’t felt like a real place since he poured his heart out to you beneath the weeping willow. When you whipped around and thundered back inside, Soonyoung remained outdoors, staring at the soil your presence had occupied mere seconds ago, unable to feel the cool breeze feather at his cheeks or hear Minghao’s shouts of his name when you had approached him spitting fury.

Word spilt before it even had the chance to be trapped.

Like sand grains slipping through a tight fist, it appeared that everyone and their dog was cognizant of Soonyoung’s confession, his little crush that actually wasn’t a crush at all, but a deep, profound love that he couldn’t ever seem to make tangible. You couldn’t even stand next to each other outside the entrance to the lecture hall or sit next to the other on the bus without the knowing gazes splaying across your skin. A few times you’d both gotten unbearable jokes. “Just kiss her already!” or, “I hope you’re being loyal, huh?”

They would always smile ear-to-ear afterward; crinkle their noses before swinging their hand like it was no big deal, saying, “Oh, I’m just kidding!,” As if the air between you wasn’t already thick enough to slice through like butter.

Of course, this concluded that Junhui caught wind of the details concerning that party and its events, in which Soonyoung had indeed unabashedly confessed to his girlfriend beneath crisp moonlight, surrounded by the shimmering locks of an almost fairy tale-looking tree, hands holding hands and breaths so close they mingled. It sounded quite romantic and definitely something to be alarmed about.

However, Soonyoung made the decision to pull Junhui aside before their first practice after the party to explain that he shouldn’t worry, that you were completely infatuated by Junhui and that his presence in your life was a far greater focus than Soonyoung’s own presence. It was inexplicably awkward, especially as Junhui only looked at Soonyoung with impassive, blinking brown eyes and a parted mouth.

“It’s okay,” Junhui told him, “I’m not scared that she would run off with you or anything.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung responded, firmly slapping him on his broad shoulder, “Definitely not. You guys are great. I just want to put this behind us.”

But Soonyoung never really truthfully, “put it behind him.” He was still in love with you to an extent that couldn’t fit within the universe. It was indescribable. His confession merely scratched the surface of what he truly felt, yet love could be such a complexity that it was best demonstrated through actions rather than words. Well, that’s what Soonyoung learned at least – his words had certainly not been enough. He could only continue to support you as a friend, even if it felt akin to a knife twisting through his heart at times.

Spiraling back to the present, Soonyoung finally looked elsewhere rather than his phone as Minghao returned from the washroom, stretching his arms high above his head. He paused at the corridor, taking in the brightness of the studio as sunlight shone through the windows.

“So, he’s really not coming, huh?” Minghao rasped as he continued his stretching.

Chan was still focusing on the doc station, scrolling through the playlists on his iPod. “Are you talking about Junhui?”

“Yeah,” Minghao sighed, speaking presumably, like Chan and Soonyoung were already supposed to know the reason for Junhui’s absence.

“Did he text on the group chat?” Chan asked.

Minghao’s brow suddenly pinched together, his face hollowing, “Uh… No, he sent it to me only. But—Oh my god! That means you don’t know what happened!”

Soonyoung then felt his phone buzz in his hand.

“What?!” Chan exclaimed after tearing his attention away from his music, entranced like a little child witnessing a magic trick, except the magic was replaced with modern day drama, “Tell me! What happened?”

Peering down at the white light of his phone screen, Soonyoung nearly choked, his eyes opening wide and gleaming almost skeptically as he repetitively read the message, scanned the ID of the person who had sent it to him. Minghao begun speaking quietly, his voice shushed, as though the information he possessed was extremely confidential and ears all over the nation were intently listening.

However, Soonyoung knew he couldn’t stay; in fact he was already leaping to his feet whilst Minghao beckoned Chan over and said,

“Well, Junhui and [Y/N]… They broke up last night. And to make matters worse, Junhui was planning on saying the L word too.”

Chan gulped, “Love?”

“Yeah,” Minghao solemnly nodded, “But, I don’t know, she broke it right off in the middle of his confession. He’s devastated and that’s as much as I know. I figured he wouldn’t show up to practice.”

“Wow…” Chan touched his fingers to his lips, wearing a highly perplexed expression as he seemed to entre a personal musing. But then he was calling for Soonyoung who was in the midst of hastily wriggling on his pullover, grabbing for his duffle bag at the same time.

“Soonyoung, did [Y/N] say anything to you about—Hey! Where are you going?”

His head suddenly popped free from the collar, a hand ruffling out the black fibres of his hair as Soonyoung quickly glanced down at his phone.

“Something came up,” He coughed into his fist, “I probably won’t be back. I’ll explain everything later!”

Minghao hardly grasped the chance to bark out, “What the hell are you talking about?” Before his friend had shot straight like a bullet toward the door, practically toppling onto the sidewalk and grunting an impetuous apology to some lady he ran into. Soonyoung felt the burning singe of his friends’ eyes (not to mention the lady herself) at the back of his neck, watching him dart away from studio without a clue as to what provoked this unprecedented urgency.

All they had to understand was that he would explain himself in the future.

All that Soonyoung had to understand was one simple thing.

[Y/N | 9:58am]: can you come over? please. i need you.

He knew he was a bit late the second he arrived at your porch, the wooden, faded blue steps creaking beneath his weight and his heart ferociously pumping. Soonyoung brushed a hand against his sore ribcage as he knocked on the door, waiting in an anxious coalescence of overwrought nerves and a budding hopefulness. On his way over he’d passed by his own house, which prompted Soonyoung’s decision to shove his duffle bag through his bedroom window to discard the troublesome weight.

However, he then had a small epiphany, found himself climbing and squirming through to grab something that he was unable to leave without.

The doorknob jiggled.

Soonyoung stood in the sweetened, morning air, the birdsong turning into blurred background noise as his breath hitched and the moisture in his throat dried up, waiting for you to appear. Though when the door at last swung open and the sunlight twinkled in the wet depths of your eyes, the sight reminded him of why he charged here in utmost determination. A mess stood before him to put it kindly, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes – so distraught that your lips quivered, bitten bright like rubies, so emotionally drained that once glossy tear tracks turned to matte patterns on your cheeks.

Defeat had spun you around its orbit for far too long. You couldn’t even speak, just glanced at Soonyoung and hiccuped in the preluding fashion of a sob.

Immediately he’d stepped past the doorframe – every bittersweet word of his confession, every aching memory of your relationship with Junhui, every argument you’d ever had completely erased from his mind. Soonyoung solely focused on your comfort, planting his gentle hands against your cheeks, massaging away the damp film that slowly reformed beneath the sore skin of your eyes. His thumbs picked up the tiny, glistering beads and swept each one away.

Your fingers shakily kneaded into his waist, twisting the thick fabric of his pullover as though it would absorb and alleviate your pain.

“You’re okay,” Soonyoung lilted softly, “I promise you’re okay. I’ve got you now, and everything’s gonna be alright.”

Despite your strength being quite meek at the moment, Soonyoung could feel the loop your arms formed around his waist had infinitesimally tightened. Your body surged with the faintest flicker of energy as he rubbed his thumbs upon the warm skin of your temples, pressing a kiss to the space between your brows. As you breathed in tatters, the unstable warmth ghosting at his neck, Soonyoung kissed the space again, this time his touch lasting a bit longer, the tautness of your frame that was like a crossbow slowly loosening.

“S-Soonyoung,” He heard you breathlessly croak whilst blinking at him wetly, “W-What’s w-wrong with me?”

Soonyoung gave your face tender squeeze, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that soaked from between your lashes, “What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong with you, baby.”

But you immediately shook your head, a hiccup sounding at the back of your throat as you grabbed onto his waist harder. “No, no, no,” You chanted, “Please don’t lie, Soonyoung. I hurt you a-and then I h-hurt J-Junhui. That’s all I do a-and I don’t know why. Why do I do this?”

He sighed, the strained cadence and desperation in your voice newly pronounced to his ears. This state of agony you’d wilted into was uncharted territory for Soonyoung – he had to be careful and delicate with his choice of wording. After sticking his arm out to close the door, he took a light grip on your chin using his index finger and thumb, pointing your face upward where he could examine your expression in clarity. You had inflicted pain into his life, yet he could never get angry at you for it.

“Try not to be so rough with yourself. You’re a gorgeous, strong girl, and people are going to fall for that, okay?” Soonyoung humoured slightly, knowing that was merely a sliver of the reasons he’d fallen for you. Still, there remained a serious nuance in his tone. “People are going to come into your life, they’re going to evoke feelings from you, and you’ll evoke feelings from them. Just because those feelings don’t always match up, that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you.”

His thumb stretched out to stroke your jaw, his gaze warm, flaring in amber hues reminiscent of honey.

“You have so much time to discover what you want in your partner. They’re gonna come along one day and sweep you right off your feet, all these things you worry about will turn to dust. I know that for a fact, trust me. But for now, please just focus on yourself, sweetheart. You need some time to heal, alright?”

A cast of sunlight shafted through the glass on the door, pooling in a melted, golden stroke across your face. Audibly you gulped and sniffled, blinking at Soonyoung against the heat of the sun’s ray before returning back to his shoulder, your nose softly pressed to his neck where he could feel that your breaths had exponentially calmed. He smiled, his palm rubbing up and down along your spine, gently easing whatever small sobs you had left into open air. It wasn’t until your arms loosened around his waist and your voice quietly rustled by his cheek that he stopped.

“S-Soonyoung,” You feebly squeaked his name.

“Yeah?”

“Do you… Do you have something in your, um, pocket?”

That’s when it came to him. His face lit up as he dug his hand into the pocket of his pullover, your expression incredibly perplexed as Soonyoung pulled out his Rubik’s cube.

“I do actually,” He chuckled, “This thing! I had to run by my house to come here, and I had my dance bag with me. So I just shoved it through my bedroom window. But then I saw my Rubik’s cube and thought… Well… I dunno really. Maybe it would like, relax you or something since you’ve always liked playing with it. It doesn’t make a lot of sense when I say it out loud.”

He spilt into a wide smile at hearing your laughter. Maybe it trembled slightly and foretold the start of a deep exhaustion, but it allowed Soonyoung’s heart to feel less heavy.

“No, it makes sense,” You giggled, pawing beneath your nose, “I just— I can’t believe you would think to bring that.”

Soonyoung shrugged, speaking with such casualness as he said, “Well, I’m always thinking of you, so.”

Your mouth opened slightly for a transient moment, revealing nothing but a black diamond gap until you seemed to shake away whatever thought plagued your mind. You took the Rubik’s cube from Soonyoung and then looked back into the corridor, sniffling whilst you touched the wall with your hand before sinking down to sit on the floor. Without having to think, Soonyoung slouched down snug beside you, shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg.

Already you were working the different panels with a dexterous speed. Leaning his head against the wall, Soonyoung watched silently, though enjoyed thoroughly. The silence was tranquil and continued as the sun began etching higher and higher into the eggshell blue of the sky, a dusty sea illuminated in warm, caressing light as floating particles shone through the glass door.

He felt a faint weight on his shoulder, peeked down to see you resting against him.

Swallowing as discreetly as he could, Soonyoung harnessed the courage to set his hand on your bare knee, his lips curling when you didn’t protest, just continued to fiddle and experiment with the cube. However, his lungs were teetering on the edge of shriveled leather as you momentarily paused your game to grab his wrist, move his hand higher up your soft, smooth skin until you placed his touch at the inside of your thigh. White speckles tingled in his peripheral vision. He wanted to pinch himself just to ensure he wasn’t dreaming.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” Soonyoung asked whilst peeping at the game from above your head, squeezing the warm skin of your thigh reassuringly.

There was a pause the scope of a heartbeat.

“Stay.” You then replied.

So he did exactly that.

It was a somewhat late night at the studio, a couple rotations past nine o’clock, the streets slowly but surely beginning to teem as most prepared to embark on a Friday night escapade. Minghao had gotten out of the shower fairly quickly, but Chan must have aimed to dawdle or maybe take a nap beneath the soaking hot water and webs of steam. There was hardly any heat left, even when Soonyoung cranked the handle all the way to the right, into the red section.

Still, it felt rejuvenating to peel the sticky clothes from his skin that had once adhered like paper-mâché and stand beneath the water, his eyes closed, hair swept back from his face, hands gliding and scrubbing the ache from his muscles. Minghao had come up with the idea to go out and dine, so whilst Soonyoung would usually be at home at this point, snuggling into bed, probably thinking about he could fall asleep so much easier with you in his arms, he was instead getting ready to stuff his face.

Not that he would ever complain about such a thing.

Roughly two weeks had passed since Soonyoung cradled you in his arms, your tears absorbing into the fabric of his pullover, a hand soothing down your spine in an attempt to crease out your self-loathing. Two weeks had passed since you sat together in the corridor, his gaze trained to how you maneuvered his Rubik’s cube, almost on the brink of solving its puzzle until there was a single panel that didn’t match and you huffed in sheer frustration. The cube was still sitting on your dresser.

Soonyoung never bothered asking for it back. He figured you could make much better use of it than he ever would. Little by little, it felt like your friendship was padding its way back to its golden era, where life wasn’t so serious and there wasn’t this attribute of stiltedness whenever you were alone together. Junhui seemed to be feeling better too. He started arriving at practices a week after the break up, though it was impossible to truly read the writing on his heart. He was an actor after all. Maybe he was just immaculate at hiding his truths.

Unsurprisingly so, Soonyoung’s utter affections for you remained unyielding. When he believed you had attained remarkable stability back into your life, he made sure you were aware of this, in which his emotions were quite possibly never going to change. He wanted to make sure you were okay with everything – that you were okay with his thoughts about you, what he felt when he looked at you, that his desire to have you wasn’t something that imbued discomfort.

Soonyoung remembered telling you this by his campfire as you stargazed together, except there had been no interruptions.

Once he’d gotten out from the shower with a towel rubbing his hair dry, he could faintly hear the muffled conversation shared between Minghao and Chan.

They were speaking quietly, which Soonyoung found rather peculiar considering there was no one else occupying the studio apart from the three of them. He swore that your name as well as Junhui’s had popped up multiple times in the same sentence. Soonyoung was completely aware both you and Junhui were going to be at the dinner. Sure, it was off-putting and questionable, but you were mature and would know not to start anything to create an awkward atmosphere.

Hell – Soonyoung thought that even Wonwoo was invited.

However, Soonyoung’s curiosity was far too puissant. He couldn’t evade pressing his ear against the door, a smirk prancing up his lips as he strained to hear the conversation. It couldn’t be that fucking terrible, probably something about how it would be a little unsettling to have you and Junhui in such proximity.

But then—Oh no, Soonyoung’s jaw had bloomed with rust, nearly unhinging from its bone and clattering to the floor.

“Why are we whispering again?”

“Shh! Chan if you don’t lower your fuh— I mean fabulous voice, I said I was going to explain!”

“Sorry.”

“I-I have some news, but don’t start yelling, okay? Anyways, [Y/N] isn’t meeting us here and walking to dinner with us anymore.”

“What? Why?”

“Well… She’s going to Junhui’s apartment before instea—would you pick your mouth up off the floor? She’s going over to Junhui’s apartment beforehand.”

“How did you find that out?”

“Junhui told me. She texted him and said she wanted to come over.”

“Do you think she wants to get back together? Maybe she changed her mind and does love him. ”

“I have no clue, Channie. I really have no clue. But Junhui’s had some stuff he’s really wanted to say to her. Maybe they’ll come to the dinner as a couple, maybe not.”

“Damn, this is going to destroy Soonyoung. I… I—,”

“I know, and that’s exactly why we’re not going to say anything to him. We shouldn’t assume. We’re not going to assume. He doesn’t deserve this.”

Soonyoung wasn’t sure what the pain felt like exactly. There was nothing physical that could come close to its depth, its unbeknownst strength that abruptly flared within him so potently he could feel even his blood vessels concaving. He just knew it hurt. He knew that sensitive wounds recently set to heal had been torn up without warning, and they poured open, pouring and pouring as Soonyoung’s head thumped against the door, wanting to rail his fist through the wood if there had been no one there to witness him.

Actions weren’t solely reserved for testaments of love. They were just as representative of anger and heartbreak as they were anything else.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

Minghao posed as set his handbag around his shoulder, Chan standing next to him and shyly tugging at his fingers. They both gazed worrisomely at Soonyoung who sat on the table with the doc station, dressed in a fresh t-shirt and black sweatpants, not exactly the primmest attire for dining at a somewhat sumptuous restaurant.

“I never said I wasn’t coming, but I feel kinda sick right now. I might join you guys later.” He heartlessly defended, his arms lying like cement blocks in his lap.

Chan gulped nervously, “Y-You don’t have to make something up if you don’t want to g—,”

“I’m not making it up!” Soonyoung unabashedly snapped, leaning forward slightly and fists harshly balled to collect the energy in his outburst.

Chan didn’t flinch, but he most definitely looked drained, his face paling to that of morning frost. Minghao clearly read the situation much better than Chan, suspicions dangling at his mind’s forefront, however he wasn’t about to voice them and further collapse the situation when what he’d been craving all week was a relaxing dinner, some smooth music, a glass of wine to swallow his stresses to. Instead of interrogation, he decided to give Soonyoung the quietness and air he evidently needed, simply nodding his head with a tight lip.

“I hope you feel better,” Minghao said whilst patting Chan on his shoulder, “We should really get going though. There’s no pressure for you to show up. Do what you feel is best.”

Soonyoung leaned back against the wall, his legs bobbing as they hung over the edge of the table.

“Thanks.” Was all he muttered before Minghao and Chan left the studio, the enticing bustle of nightlife sounding for a mere fraction, until the door clicked shut and Soonyoung was left to kick his feet as cars sped past beyond the studio’s glass window.

Soonyoung was unsure of how long he sat in silence, his head titled to gaze upon the luminescent families of stars that gathered in the black sky. He couldn’t see the moon from his position, but he knew it shone brightly, a silver-bluish glow bathing the polished floor like an ocean light. If there happened to be a thing or two on his mind, it was a question rather than a sentiment.

How could you do this? You seemed to allow yourself to slip so effortlessly back into Junhui’s reigns, as though you were a tiny leaf on the pond, simply following the current that tugged you downstream.

Even when Soonyoung thought he could read you, it only took mere seconds for that confidence to be erased, yet there always remained a lifetime of pain that jabbed him wherever it hurt most.

Getting lost in his head, Soonyoung failed to recognize the figure that approached the studio in haste, which walked up the staircase and gently tried the handle to see the door push open. He failed to recognize the swift patter of its steps, the light citrus of its scent, even the melodic lilt that weaved into its voice as it ventured into the studio. Soonyoung felt like he’d been plunged underwater, his lungs withering to scream yet were unimaginably full of something dreadful.

He caught the figure’s eyes—your eyes, how they timidly sparkled.

You swallowed, arms unnaturally crossed against your chest. “Minghao said you would be here,” sounded your soft-spoken introduction.

There was no barrier separating you from Soonyoung, yet you hovered in the middle of the studio like there was a vast gorge that kept you apart.

Soonyoung nodded, “Yeah.”

You licked your lips, rubbing your arms up and down, “He said you were feeling sick. Is that true? Do you feel any better?”

“Dunno.” Soonyoung answered.

Despite his curt replies, emptiness echoed so loudly in between every pause that he suspected even you could feel a part of it. Very cautiously, you stepped further toward him. He wasn’t some feral animal that was going to burst from its chains and attack you, but you approached him as such.

“It didn’t really feel the same without you there,” You made the effort to potentially ignite some warmth into the air, “Not without your jokes and stuff.”

But Soonyoung indolently blew out the warmth with a cold reply of his own. “What are you doing?” He said. His tone wasn’t sharp, but flat, and he could see how you uneasily shifted at his complete flip of attitude.

Your arms fell from your chest, perhaps a foreshadowing of how you were willing to confront the obvious weight in the room, the dark shadow that prowled directly where Soonyoung sat, staring you down with ice in his eyes, but your gentle words suggested opposite.

“I want to talk to you.” You replied whilst stepping closer and closer.

Soonyoung remained mute, though continued to follow your movement, how you fluttered in step by step until you were standing right in front of him, right at his legs that dangled off the table.

He sat up straight and looked nowhere else but directly into your eyes. It had always been him that shuddered with nervousness, and now the coin had been tossed so that you were seeking trouble in finding composure, a method to ground yourself whilst his gaze prickled you like an intense fever. Soonyoung didn’t split the connection for even a second; he steadfastly maintained eye contact, your faces only inches apart as you momentarily looked to your fumbling hands before shaky laughter filled the studio.

“I-I, um, I have something to tell you, alright? But it’s really, really not easy. I don’t know how you’ll react or what you’ll say or what you’ll think of me but, I don’t want to keep this a secret. I guess there’s no sense in rambling though.”

You took a deep breath, your eyelashes feathering and hands pushing down past your stomach, almost as though your fear was palpable and you were attempting to subdue it.

Soonyoung’s eyes fell to the shape of your lips, how they pursed with the breath you exhaled. Your scent had encompassed him, mild and sweet like the fresh fruit of summer, and moonlight splashed along half your face, illuminating your skin like a glinting crystal. Perhaps he could have possessed more self-control, but this may be the last time he could ever act before what he suspected you were going to say became reality.

“Soonyoung, I need to tell you that I’m—,”

He didn’t resist. A squeak erupted from your mouth as Soonyoung slid off the table, his hands gripping with modicum force at your waist and pushing your back against the mirror. The second your skin seemed to hit the cool glass, a gasp burst from deep within your chest, Soonyoung then seizing the sliver of time to press his lips against your own. For a fleeting moment your body was rigid, though it fell ultimately weak, melted like cream into his touch as his fingertips tightened the silk of your dress into your skin.

Your mouth was soft, corresponding eagerly to his movement, and your teeth were gentle in their quick, teasing bites against the plush of Soonyoung’s lips. This specific moment what was played most commonly in his head, from restless sleep that could never grace his eyelids soon enough to long, morning bus rides where his head had yet to leave the clouds and the sunrise ignited embers in his vision.

But at last, he was kissing you; he was drawing heavy, hot breaths from your chest as he collected your taste on his tongue.

Briefly Soonyoung pictured the party, how he’d sat watching Junhui’s large hands roam your body, dig crescents upon your skin that was softer than a peach with his nails, turn the colour of your mouth a vibrant, cherry red, the sheen of saliva on your lips glossy and bright. But at long last it was Soonyoung’s turn to ruin you – to elicit the sharp, breathy mewl from your chest.

The mere realization further emboldened him, caused him to lick into your mouth whilst your hands trembled, threaded into his hair in tight, concupiscent fistfuls.

Inch by inch his kisses strayed from your lips. Your back was pressed with a more solidified firmness into the mirror as Soonyoung’s hand crept down your waist and tucked beneath your thigh, hauling it over his hip. His fingertips curved fire upon your skin, inducing a sting that overweighed in pleasure than in pain. You titled your head back, heat coursing through his veins when he heard a beautiful moan flutter from your mouth. His lips then reached the sensitive crook of your neck where the sweet scent was most concentrated.

His teeth delicately bit down upon the warm, velvet flesh, the manner in which you arched toward his touch encouraging Soonyoung.

His world was tuned to nothing but your hedonism, the tiny noises you were unable to supress beneath the wet pressure of his tongue against the new, glistening bruise. And it continued like that, blossom after blossom being suckled, nipped and licked into the column of your neck, your chest, fingers knotted into Soonyoung’s hair not to guide him, but to express the euphoria he masterfully summoned at your core.

However, as Soonyoung’s palms cupped your ribcage, and as his kisses adapted a much more sentimental, slower rhythm once they pressed upon the soft swell of your chest, there was a gaping feeling that howled inside him. He couldn’t have you. He shouldn’t even be doing this with you. Where you should have been was at dinner with your friends, enjoying the music, the food, the conversation. Despite Soonyoung’s intimate wishes to continue with your fingers tugging at his scalp in a dull sting, your breathless mewls, your swollen lips gasping his name, he believed you were not in love with him.

A splash rolled onto your chest, tiny and wet, and then another and another. Soonyoung had stopped kissing you, his grasp on your ribcage fading in strength.

“W-What’s wrong?” You questioned whilst he heard that your heart still beat like a metal pendulum. “Why did you stop? It felt so good, really good.”

Undoubtedly the damp trails were leaking from his eyes. They were no longer tinted with a thick lust, but a vacantness that left his irises hollowed and indiscernible. Soonyoung’s vision of his marks on your chest blurred. He heard you gulp, your fingers winding down from their tangled clasp in his black hair to gently cup his face; raise it into the meagre light of the studio.

“Soonyoung? You okay?” However, the very second you peered into the clear lacquer that lined his eyes; he assumed that you understood his answer before he even spoke it.

“N-No.” His voice cracked.

The soft pad of your thumb brushed beneath his eye. “Tell me what’s wrong,” You were notably pleading rather than politely asking, “What’s hurting you?”

He didn’t care anymore. His face plunged straight into the junction between your shoulder and neck, his hands uselessly clutching at the back of your dress, compressing the silk in his hands. Your heartbeat thrummed throughout your entire body, and Soonyoung could easily detect its sporadic pulse with his ear pressed tightly to your neck. He hiccupped and the dam suddenly broke loose, your fingers coaxing down the back of his head in a lambent hope it would soothe him even marginally.

“Y-You don’t love me, you don’t love me, you don’t love me but I’m so fucking in love with you that it’s all I can ever think about. Nothing has ever hurt this bad but I can’t keep myself away from you. I-I don’t know what to do. You’re with Junhui again and I want to be angry at you because how could you fucking do this to me when you know how I feel about you, how badly I want you, how I’d drop everything for you. B-But it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault and—,”

“Soonyoung, Soonyoung,” You’d gotten a hold of his face, fingers gripping into the teary trails that soaked from his eyes, from his gaze that had broken like a glass sheet. “I need you to listen to me, baby, okay? Calm down.” Soonyoung wetly blinked at you, never having experienced such a heartfelt reflection glaze in your eyes.

Sweeping the black hairs that had masked to his flushed, tan skin, you gave his head a small shake, staring at Soonyoung with moonlight slanting across your features.

“You beautiful, beautiful boy who I adore so much I can’t even describe it. I’m not with Junhui, I don’t know where you got that idea from, but I’m not with him. I came here specifically to tell you that—,” Your thumb brushed beneath the plump curl of his bottom lip, “For fuck’s sake, that I’m in love with you! I’m in love with you, and I am being one-hundred percent serious.”

Your hands drifted from his cheeks to the sides of his face, where Soonyoung could feel their slight pressure and their solacing heat.

He wasn’t able to pinpoint that last time he’d allowed his emotions run so rampantly before you, completely abducting control of his body until he felt like a vessel running on autopilot. His face was still damp and there were watered pearls clinging to his eyelashes, though Soonyoung wasn’t as concerned with a little blotchiness marring his vision when you looked at him like you needed him, like you couldn’t live without him.

The tender, grazing movement of your fingertips along his jaw pulled with a feather’s daintiness, Soonyoung sniffing a bit raggedly as your arms then wrapped around his neck.

“If you’re wondering about why I drove to the dinner with Jun, it was just because I left a lot of things at his apartment I wanted to pick up. I was finally feeling well enough to face him on my own… When I broke up with him, I knew exactly why I did it, Soonyoung.” You chewed your bottom lip and huffed in slight amusement, adapting to how it felt to ultimately speak these realizations, these thoughts, aloud.

“I did it because I finally understood this feeling I’ve always had for you, but could never put my fingertip on. I know that I’m in love with you. And, like you said, one day someone is gonna come along and sweep me right off my feet, make me forget about all my worries as though they’re nothing but dust. You’ve always been that person; I guess I just didn’t understand myself well enough at the time to see that.”

Fragile laughter rumbled in your throat, “You really took all my years of blissful ignorance like a solider, huh? I’m not really sure how I’ll ever make up for that.”

Soonyoung hands returned to your waist, clutching with a notable pressure, as if your body was fabricated from the swirling soot of a star that could ghost between his fingertips in a mere second. He straightened his posture, rested his forehead against your own, and peered directly into your eyes that blinked at him with a sentiment he could at long last read.

Without another wasted heartbeat, Soonyoung whispered right at your cupid’s bow, “You can be with me.”

To which a smile blossomed at your bitten, bright mouth.

“I’d love that more than anything.” Your voice slipped into a gentle hush just before the tips of your fingers swept down his neck, guiding Soonyoung forward the tiniest amount to kiss his pink mouth so sweetly.

The night ended on quite an interesting note. Minghao ended up hopping from the dinner table early because he was reunited with the sudden urge to photograph their memorable night; however, he’d forgotten his camera in his dance bag which he left at the studio. The air was chilly and misted, but felt ever so refreshing against his skin heated from many glasses of wine. As he quickly paced down the street, nose buried in his coat and hands in his pockets, he found himself coming to an abrupt stop outside the studio.

With a hammering heartbeat clogging his throat, he vigilantly did his best to peek into the dance studio’s front window, his jaw hanging on by a mere thread as he gauged the sight that had been beautifully framed by a shower of moonlight. Soonyoung’s hands were pressed against your back, holding you close to him whilst your arms cradled his head at your shoulder, fingers just barely combing his hair. Together you swayed, tangled in the other’s company, to a much muffled melody Minghao had to absolutely strain to hear.

Once he saw Soonyoung’s iPod glowing from the doc station, Minghao nodded to himself, a smile crossing his lips at a relationship he never thought possible.

Yet, now that he witnessed Soonyoung raise his head from your shoulder and softly capture your mouth in a slow and gentle kiss, Minghao could see that it was a relationship that made the most sense. As much as he yearned to fetch his camera, Minghao decided to place his own needs aside. Besides, he would most likely return to the restaurant to find Wonwoo offering the server a blunt and Chan shoveling handfuls of mints into his pocket whilst Junhui distracted the front-of-house manager.

Minghao left the two of you to your moment.

Soonyoung had finally attained his wish.

✧✎ a/n: lol starting this i inferred it would only be abt 6-7K... obviously that DID NOT happen! i dont know why my brain is solely programmed to make such long stories. i mean... i have written shorter things... but not very many. hopefully you can see why it takes me eons to respond to requests!! i havent posted smth this lengthy in a while so i hope those who read it had fun!!! comments r welcomed!!

it felt very nice writing a one-shot for soons bc i only have ONE other one-shot for him... and it’s like done in a second. Tragic!!!! anyways, i envisioned this story listening to allie x’s song, catch!! i would have linked the song, however adding links seems to prevent work from showing up in the tags :( if youre interested in listening tho, i guess youtube exists lol. this author’s note is going to become as long as the fic if i dont stfu, sooo... BYE!!!!

[huntertales]

Part Two: It’s Your Duty. (Sacrifice S08E23)

Episode Summary: With Crowley poised to undo all the good they’ve ever done as hunters; Sam, Dean and the reader find themselves cornered. But with Kevin’s help, the Winchesters and the reader bound into one last play against the king of hell. However everything comes with a cost. What must the three sacrifice to seal the gates of hell for good? Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,041.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Closing the gates of hell was always meant to be a team effort until the very end. All though the boys couldn't do much except for sit on the sidelines and watch you do all the heavy lifting, you knew they were always there, supporting you through the journey and offering you strength when you needed it the most. You had a few bumps in the road where you felt a little helpless and seemed like this day would never come, but here you were. The final trial was the only one the boys could overlook to make sure things were according as planned. Sam headed inside the church after you were in there for a while confessing your sins. Dean continued gathering the rest of the supplies you might need, not wanting to take a chance something might go wrong. 

One person who had been absent on all of the action was a certain with his own agenda. Dean forgot all about Cas at this point. He had too much on his plate right now than to worry about what the angel was up to, if he might have hurt his feelings for giving his best friend the cold shoulder. When your girlfriend is in the process of shutting the gates of hell and doing it so while knocked up with his kid, Dean thought his time was better managed here. He was filling up a clip with bullets when a certain someone came out of nowhere, the angel’s voice startling him. Cas always had a knack for showing up at the most inconvenient of times, but he was really outdoing himself when the angel showed up after being gone for a few days. 

"Dean, I need your help." The angel never popped in just to say hello or to ask how things were going. He always was in some kind of trouble, needing the older Winchester's help on some kind of project. Last time he helped the angel it ended with him getting the crap beat out of him. 

"Little busy, Cas." Dean told the angel. Cas should have gotten the hint the man wasn’t available from the situation he was currently invading on. "Take a number." 

"I'm afraid this can't wait." Cas said. Dean rolled his eyes in frustration. It never could for the angel. Whatever kind of mess he landed himself into would have to be put on hold for the next eight hours. The older Winchester didn't take into consideration the both of them had a friend in common that landed himself in a bit of danger. "Naomi has taken Metatron." 

The unexpected turn of events made Dean momentary stop what he was doing to hear more details about exactly how this happened. He stood up straighter and gave the angel a serious expression, letting Cas know he had a few minutes of his time to hear more. "And you know Metratron, how?"

"I've been working with him on the angel trials." Cas explained to the hunter. Dean was taken by surprise at hearing another set of trials that were going on while the three of you were trying to lock hell up nice and tight. It seemed Cas was working on to give upstairs the same punishment. "We're gonna shut it all down—heaven, hell. All of it." 

"Metatron, the guy who was full-on crazy, cat-lady-hoarder angel yesterday—now he wants to save heaven?" Dean question the angel, trying to wrap his head around the information he received just a few seconds ago. He sat himself down on the edge of the open trunk, wondering how someone who had ran away from his roots to avoid helping his fellow siblings in disaster was now trying to be the hero. 

"Yes, he wants to. But I'm the only one who can." Cas declared. The older Winchester heard the realvation before about wanting to close up a certain afterlife. Where it felt like it was their duty for all the trouble they caused. "I can't fail, Dean, not on this one. I need your help." 

"Look, Cas, that's all well and good, okay, but you're asking me to leave Sam and Y/N, and we've got Crowley in there tied and tressed. Now if anybody needs a chaperone while doing the heavy lifting, it's the two of them." Dean said. He pushed himself back up to his feet to face the angel, presuming it was safe enough with the conversation still between them. The hunter admitted another piece of truth about his hesitance of leaving you and his brother alone. "They don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to these kind of things." 

"You should go." Dean flinched at the sound of a voice he wasn't expecting to hear so soon. He turned around to see you had returned with his brother after your confession. You knew exactly what he was talking about without needing him to say the words. It was Sam who pushed his older brother to go with the angel, even giving him a reassuring smile that things would be okay under his watchful eye. "Seriously." 

"Oh, what, and leave you two here with the king of hell?" Dean asked you. You shrugged your shoulders in a casual manner, thinking you could handle this from the way Crowley was situated at the moment. Worst the demon could do at the moment was talk your ear off for the next handful of hours until the human blood started kicking in. Dean was still hesitant about leaving you when you were so close to the finish line. "Come on." 

"Sammy and I got this." You assured him. "And if you can lock up the angels, too...that's a good day." 

Dean felt himself stuck in the middle about what the right thing to do was. He debated about the idea of letting Sam take his place and stick around here to keep an eye on you. And yet there was another part of him that worried about the worst case scenario if something were to go wrong. "Look, I am down with sending the angels back to heaven, just 'cause they're dicks. But the demons? This is on us.” Dean said. He let out a quiet sigh, knowing what the right thing had to be done. "Y/N, start the injections now. If I'm not back in eight hours, finish it. No questions, no hesitation. And Sammy, anything weird happens—and I mean anything—you call me. Got it?"

Both of you nodded your heads to reassure the man you would do exactly that. You tried your hardest to hide your disappointment about how things were turning out for all of you. Dean wanted to be apart of the trials, maybe this was his own version. Before the man could depart with Cas, there was one thing he needed to do before leaving. Dean leaned over and kissed you, in a kind of way that felt a little sloppy and rushed, but you knew there would be a better one waiting for you soon. This was for good luck. You stared up at him and gave the man another warm smile, trying to ease his anxiety about leaving you. 

“I love you.” Dean whispered. 

“I love you, too.” You whispered back to him. 

You forced yourself to take a step back so you were standing next to Sam after you said your parting goodbyes. You watched as Cas placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, and with the blink of an eye, the both of them were gone. You felt your heart sink a little bit at the sight of Dean being forced somewhere else. There wasn’t much wiggle room here considering the circumstances you were under. And it wasn’t like you were facing this last trial on your own like last time. You felt your concentration being pulled away from your thoughts when you felt someone wrap their fingers around your hand and gave it a soft squeeze.

You turned your head to see that Sam was giving you a reminder that you weren’t facing this alone. You gave him a small smile at his kind gesture. Sam headed over to the trunk to shut it so nothing inside would get wet as you made your way back into the church. You inhaled a deep breath at what you were about to embark on. In a little over eight hours everything you had been working so hard for would finally pay off. All those demons that ruined your life, the devil himself, would be locked away forever. And that was just the beginning of your reward for all of your hard work. 

You always secretly hated needles. From the time you were a little kid and forced into getting vaccines and to this very moment when you struggled to get the courage to stick it into your arm. You stood on top of the altar, trying to ignore Sam’s offer of helping you to at least draw your blood. You didn’t know how specific God was when it came to doing these trials. He might get pissed off if you let someone draw the blood from your veins. You managed to do it on your own after a few seconds of psyching yourself out. You hissed out in pain at the pricking feeling you were used to as the needle punctured your skin. You drew out just enough blood like the ritual told you to do.

You had your worries about if this was going to work at all. You had so much demon blood poured down your throat over the years you might be just pumping Crowley up with more. There was only one way to find out. If you learned anything from doing these trials was that they were making you...cleaner. Maybe just enough to do the same for the demon at your disposal. You stepped down and began making your way forward to Crowley with the needle in your hand. He didn’t seem the least bit worried about what you were going to do. The demon honestly thought it was quite funny from the smirk on his lips.

“You really think injecting me with human blood is gonna make me human? Did you read that on the back of a cereal box?” Crowley asked you. You ignored his taunting questions. You forced him to tilt his head to the side and shoved the needle into the right side of his neck, pumping him full of your blood. You stepped back after giving him the first shot of eight. You remembered on the recording of Father Thompson's final run of the cure that there was a horrific reaction. All you got out of Crowley was him staring at you straight in the eye, not even flinching at what you just did to him. "You're miles out of your league, Kitten. See you in an hour." 

You clenched your jaw in frustration and turned yourself back around to where Sam was. You walked back up to the altar and slipped the needle back into the compartment, where seven other empty ones remained. You ignored Sam's worried look as you placed your hands on the edges of the table and tried your hardest not to let this get the best of you. For a second you thought that all of this had been a waste. A monster couldn’t cure another monster. You were out to let out a quiet sigh of defeat, but the only thing that came out of your pain was a groan of pain at what you felt happen next.

You remembered the two trials you completed before had a strange after effect on your body. And it was happening again. You furrowed your brow slightly as your grip around the edges of the wood tightened. For a few seconds you watched as your skin started to almost glow, the same way it did after accomplishing the tasks before. Your lips stretched into a faint smile as you managed to work through the pain, knowing it would subside in a few seconds. You felt your fingers loosen off the wood as you began to feel a little more back to normal from the unexpected reaction that took more out of you than you realized. While you were about to take in a breath, it came out in a sharp exhale at the sudden dull ache that hit somewhere in your body that was unexpected. 

You moved your hand away from the table and to your lower backside when a dull ache hit you out of nowhere. The past few days you had been feeling your body get used to the new sort of movements and weight you had been steadily putting on these past few months. You were no stranger to the occasional back ache. But this…this didn’t quite feel like one you experienced before in a very long time. It lasted long as the pain long as the effects of the trial did, passing by as if nothing happened at all.You tried to take a second to compose yourself so Sam didn’t worry too much, despite the young man witnessing your body’s reaction to the ritual. 

“Hey.” Sam walked over to you and leaned over slightly in your personal space for the both of you were standing with your back to the demon. He gave you a worried expression from how you reacted to the first dose of many. Glowing arms were to be expected, seeing you in pain like you were just a moment wasn’t. “Are you all right?”

“Oh. I’m fine.” You lied right through your teeth, brushing off the incident as if didn’t happen. You stood back up and gave him a smile. “The baby just kicked me or something.”

Sam wasn't stupid. He felt the baby move himself after the first it happened after you got home from losing Sarah. You went to check up on him to see how he was dealing with the unexpected death of an old friend. While he wanted nothing more than to be alone that night, being the overprotective best friend that you were, wanted to at least pretend that everything was going to be okay. You were going to lead with how you were going to figure out this hell business and avenge Sarah's death. The conversation veered off track when you saw Sam wasn't in the mood. So you took Sam's mind off the grief for Sarah when you told him about how the baby moved just a little while before coming to his room. 

And it happened again when the both of you were sitting on the edge of his bed. He felt for himself what it was supposed to be like for when a fetus moved, and how the mother reacted when it happened. “Someone likes their uncle Sammy.” You joked with him. 

The few times that you experienced it while you were trying to figure out the game plan for the final trial you didn’t show any signs of discomfort at the foreign movement from the passenger in your own body, maybe you were a little taken aback at the new sensation. Sam could tell from the look on your face that you were in pain. Like you were getting cramps when it was your time of the month. He lived with the female species long enough to know when it was the time of the month. You always complained about the cramps. Backaches that made it near impossible to bend down for something. But the thing you fussed over most was the dull ache you got in your lower back side. There could've been a million reasons why you reacted the way you did to the first dosage. Maybe it was because of the trials. Maybe not. 

+ + +

“Is this a joke?”

“No. It’s the word of God.” 

Kevin examined a piece of stone that looked awfully familiar to the demon tablet he handed off to you and the boys hours ago. He had gotten himself comfortable in the bunker after making it here and taking a tour of the place to see the dozens upon dozens of rooms it had. While the kid thought his months of hard work had paid off by giving him a roof over his head, the library alone was at least three times the size of Garth's houseboat he had stayed at. He was taken off guard by the sight of an angel he hadn't seen in a while, along with Dean after they exchanged a key to the bunker for the tablet. The sight of them together only spelled trouble. Kevin was supposed to be able to put his life back on track after hitting pause on it for months. He thought he was free from any more prophet duties for the rest of his life. 

"It's a tablet." Dean explained a little better for the kid to understand. Kevin looked up for a second to shoot the man a glare at seeing another one of these cursed things back into his life after the other one caused more trouble than it was worth in the end. "All right, translate. That's what you do." 

"Okay, Um, it's the the angel tablet, which I've never laid eyes on in my life. You want a translation in like six hours when it took me six months and a dead mom to translate a piece of the demon tablet?" Kevin repeated what was being asked of him, wanting to be clear about his new task. He decided it was the perfect time to fix himself a drink from the crystal glass set Dean always kept filled with expensive booze for the rare occasions when it called for a celebration. Kevin sat down on one of the reading chairs nestled in a corner of the library. "And according to your own words this morning...this is not what I do. It's what I did. You told me I was out, Dean."

"Yeah, well—" There was no denying Dean had promised the kid it would have been over at this point. for him. All of you thought you were nearing the end of the finish line. It turned out that Kevin was just a little farther away. He tried to come up with some excuse to get Kevin roped back into this, but the kid cut him off, knowing exactly the words about to come out of his mouth before he could say it.

"And if this is gonna be the 'guys like us are never out' speech, save it." Kevin told the man.

Cas wasn't in the mood to hear Kevin's protests with so much on the line. He grabbed the prophet by his sweater and yanked him up to his feet. The sudden and unexpected move caused Kevin to lose his grip on the glass before he could take a sip, causing it to shatter to the ground. The angel stared Kevin directly in the eye at an uncomfortable closeness. While the older Winchester called out the angel's name in a warning tone, Cas wanted to make one thing clear the prophet might have forgotten about. "Dean's right. There is no out. Only duty." 

"Get the hell off me." Kevin demanded, despite his voice sounding timidly quiet from the sudden aggression brought on by the angel. 

"You are a prophet of the Lord, always and forever...until the day you cease to exist, and then another prophet takes your place." Cas told the young man flat out about his important role he was tasked with, taking a second to clarify the terms so it was clear. There was no out from being a prophet, a role that was picked out for him long before he existed in the world. Cas dragged Kevin back over to the table and shoved him forward. Kevin managed to catch himself  by placing both hands down on the wood and stared at the tablet. "Now, are you clear as to the task before you?" Kevin managed to slowly nod his head. "Then do it, and let's go." 

Kevin heard the familiar sounds of rustling wings before he looked up to see Cas and Dean were gone, leaving him with the burdening task of translating a tablet in less than six hours. He let out a quiet sigh and grabbed the stone. trying to think on the positive side of things to keep himself motivated. At least he wasn't held up in that houseboat. And by the time he was done with the translation you would be just a few short hours away from completing the final trial. That was the thing that mattered most of all to him. If he wanted to be done with one thing most of all it was those demons. Not that angels were any better. 

+ + +

You were on the third hour now. Despite it being in the late afternoon with hours left of daylight until sundown, the thunderstorm that rolled away about an hour ago after the second injection leaving a cloudy overcast. Sam lit a few candles so you could continue to work in better lighting while you pricked yourself with another needle. While you worked on drawing out the third dosage of blood, you found yourself distracted by how your body reacted to the first round. It took you by surprise when you felt a rupture of pain in places you hadn't felt there since October, your last period before you found out you were pregnant. While it subsided after a while, there was still a dull ache that flared up whenever you tried to walk. It got worse after the second shot. 

You were able to hide it best as you could from Sam, who was watching you like a hawk during this entire time. One move on your part and this would be all over. Besides the pain, you could tell the last trial was doing something to you. More than the two others before. Maybe it was why you were feeling more faint than usual. And warm to the touch. Whatever was happening to your body, you didn't care. It felt good. LIke you were reaching the inner peace you had been praying for years now. The last ounce of evil inside your body was being washed away. The trials were burning away the demon that was trying to clutch onto your soul. 

You watched as the clock ticked down to the official time to start the next dosage. You had the needle ready for a good minute now, needing to gather your strength to head over to Crowley who had been awfully quiet for some time. You thought he would have most likely annoyed you by constantly talking like he did. You didn't know if you should be thankful for his silence or worried. Either way, you thought he couldn't do much trouble. You had him chained up without worry. You grabbed the needle and made your way back down while Sam noticed how you were slowly approaching the demon. He didn’t know it was because every time you walked it was starting to make the ache a little worse. 

You shoved the needle into Crowley's neck without much trouble, going swiftly as the two other dosage. Right as you yanked the needle out of the demon's skin and was about to walk away, that's when the son of a bitch made his move. Crowley grabbed a hold of your arm and sank his teeth into your flesh, biting hard enough to break skin. You felt a yelp of pain escape your mouth at the unexpected lash of retaliation from the demon. Crowley sank his teeth deeper into your arm, and right as you were about to punch him to get him off of you, the demon released you from his grip and pushed you away. Sam rushed forward after hearing your cry of pain to see Crowley had bitten you so hard he left more than just teeth marks.

“What the hell, Crowley?” Sam hissed at the demon from his childish form of revenge against you. Little did he realize that two could play this game. Sam punched the demon right in the face while you were busy with your other hand wrapped tightly around the wound to keep it from bleeding. "Biting?! Seriously?!"

You shot the demon a glare when he continued to sit there not speaking a single word to explain his actions before you headed outside of the church and to the Impala, needing to clean the wound for fear Crowley might give you some disease. Little did you take into consideration the demon wanted some of your blood. Demons might be ruthless and destructive monsters, but they were resourceful as well. You should have tied his hands down to the chair to keep this from happening. Wen he heard the door slam shut, Crowley spit the blood out into his palm, using it to conduct a call for help to his kind. You might have proven yourself time and time again you were a force to be reckoned with. But not even you could prepare yourself from the wrath of hell that was about to be unleashed on you.

“That little son of a bitch.” You examined the bite wound in your arm better with the natural sunlight to help show off the teeth marks you hope wouldn’t leave a scar. You made your way over to the Impala, careful to watch your step with the ground still muddy from the rainfall earlier so you didn’t fall to the ground. “Do you think I’ll need to get a rabies shot after we’re done? Who knows what kind of diseases Crowley collected over the years.” 

“I would get one just in case.” Sam joked with you, trying to ease the mood after the unexpected move. He opened the backseat door and dug through some things until he found a clean bandana suitable enough to cover your wound to keep it from being infected. You stretched out your arm to let him tie it around tightly for the next few hours. When it was done, you took a second to adjust it, leaving Sam to take a better look at how you were doing yourself. He noticed right away you weren’t looking too good. “Y/N...you sure you’re doing okay?” 

You looked up when you heard a question you were hoping to avoid. Sam could see it clear on your face, months of fighting had finally hit you, leaving you drained and exhausted. Dark circles underneath your eyes. Your skin was clammy and a sickly color, worse than he had ever seen it before. Despite all of the evidence, you shrugged your shoulders. “I’m fine, Sammy.”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked you one more time, his tone shifting into seriousness. He wanted so badly for hell to be locked up for good. For every single demon who ruined his life and took away everyone he loved to be stuck rightfully where they are with no chance of escape. But things like this come with a price. You had been acting so strange the past several weeks. And it was starting to worry him. “Do you remember when we met Metatron? How you got a fever and start rambling on about stuff?”

“Yeah.” You slowly said. You could feel your body stiffen at the memory of you, out of your mind, spilling things from your childhood you wished to bury deep inside of you. You adjusted the bandana once more. “What about it?” 

The reason why you and Sam were so close was because of the past you shared together. The both of you made mistakes. Cut from the same cloth of evil. And you wanted so badly to do good of the wrongful things you did. If the situation was different it would have been him to did the trials. All of you had the same motive to doing this. But Sam felt you had another, one that you didn’t tell him or Dean. 

“When you were showing us Metatron, you said something about...how you needed to get worse. Before you could get better.” Sam repeated the words he remembered you mumbling to yourself in your post fever haze, determined to show him and his brother your discovery. “And how these trials weren’t purifying just you...but ‘us.’ Who is ‘us’?”

Sam had a feeling he knew who you were talking about, but he wanted to understand why you were thinking like that. You knew the truth about everything was eventually going to have to come out. Why it was you who had to do the trials. Why you said all those things while you were having such a high fever. The night in the church was where you would start. You wanted to tell him. But right now wasn’t the time. It would have to wait until the final trial was over. 

“I was running a fever, I said a lot of weird things.” You were at it again, lying right through your teeth. Lying was a sin. But a little fib wouldn’t hurt. Because if you told Sam the truth he would most likely pull the plug on this whole operation. And you couldn’t do have him do that. You merely gave him another smile, the trusting kind, giving him a promise you would keep. “I’ll tell you everything. After all of this is over. I promise, Sasquatch.” 

Sam felt the smallest smile tug at the ends of his lips at hearing your nickname for him. It had been a while since he heard it. You had been doing these trials for the past three months. All you had to do was endure five more hours until all of this was over and you could finally rest. All of you could get that happy ending you always talked about, and finally get to achieve. And you could finally rest. If there was anything he knew about you, it was that you were a fighter. The both of you headed back to the church to wait out the fourth dosage.

[Next Part]

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[cottonwren]

A well dressed woman | T.S.

Summary : Tommy Shelby has a things for suits and threats. Jamie Leanne Pine is his best nightmare yet, and he’s not ready to admit defeat.

Part Two:

_______________________________

“Mr Shelby, glad you could make it as soon as you did, but would you mind not thinking so low of me as to think I wouldn’t notice you sneaking into my own premises?” Came a voice from the open door to his left.

The rough accent was lit with amusement, making him turn to the open door, revealing a woman with tresses of dark chestnut hair that fell down her back. She was wearing a suit,not unlike his own, but it was tailored. Tommy took seconds to unravel everything he could about the woman, which wasn’t much, so he was quick to sit down infront of her at her desk, noticing that the wood was polished and expensive.

“Ms. Pine. I hope my earliness is not an inconvenience, there was less traffic than I expected - small town, or lack of wealth and therefore cars” He told her, looking her in the eyes, strucken by the way her eyes narrowed at him. Tommy was used to being glared at, but this was funny, this made him confused and slightly turned on. Then again, what glaring woman in a suit didn’t?

“I had already said I was glad to see you, Mr Shelby. A short memory is never a good asset, you know, not for our work” Jamie smiled with a polite snark “I assume you’re here to discuss the deal? Or are you just here to peruse and most likely get shot in the head as consequence.”

“Is that a threat, Ms.?” He asked, looking at her with a smirk, leaning forward on his elbows. “Dangerous thing to be doing, that”

“If it was that dangerous you would have killed me by now, Thomas, am I not right? Alas, there is no blood.” Jamie asked, locking her eyes on him, making him look straight back at her. “Drink? I hear you’re not too prudish to stray from drinking before six pm” She offered, getting up and walking towards her cabinet.

“Whiskey” Tommy nodded, watching her arse as she got the glasses and whiskey out.

“Flattered, Thomas, but I’d appreciate it if you could keep your eyes off of my arse” Jamie winked, looking over her shoulder at him as she collected two glasses “Occupied with your assistant and a communist, are you not? I heard the assistant gave you a child, a daughter”

“The assistant I have no interest in, and the communist was entirely for work reasons. I’m sure you’ve made sacrifices for your position, judging by the quality of your desk” Tommy hummed, ignoring how his cheeks pinked slightly at her noticing that he was staring. Tommy Shelby OBE was an ass man, alright?

“I work hard, Thomas, but I’ve never betrayed my own class or morals. Can you say the same, is what I wonder…” She asked, pouring them whiskey and then sliding his glass over the polished wood.

“They were right, you really are insane, aren’t you? He chuckled, taking a sip of the whiskey “Import?”

“Irish. Who, dare I ask, called me insane?” Jamie asked, looking at him with a calculated expression “I will find out either way”

“Oh, no-one. No-one even knows who you are, which is how you prefer it, I assume?” Tommy told her, “I’ve been known to speak to ghosts. There was an older woman who looked exactly like you, said you were insane and some other… things. You really made an enemy out of her”

“My mother” Jamie told him stiffly, adjusting her blazer jacket “That woman was my mother. Glad to know she’s bitten the dust”

“Right. Shouldn’t listen to her, then, I suppose. What’s this deal, then?” Tommy asked, feeling incredibly stupid after trusting someone’s mother when he knew all too well how parents could be.

“You import my products for me, using your license. You get ten percent, roughly ten grand every load. Not too shabby - it also means that unless you shaft me unexpectedly, you will not find any of your family or yourself at the end of my gun” Jaime explained.

“That sounds agreeable. I want twenty percent” Tommy bartered, finishing his whiskey, already formulating a plan to get this to go better for him, even if it meant betraying this gorgeous woman.

“You get fifteen, and you provide all official information to prove you’re not lying to me” Jamie decided “Do we have a deal, Thomas Shelby?”

“I don’t even know your name, Ms.” Tommy told her, ready to try and seduce her to get what he wanted.

“Miss Jamie Leanne Pine, now do we have a deal or do we not?” She asked, holding out her right hand.

“Deal, Miss Jamie Leanne Pine” Tommy shook her hand. “I shall show myself out, but I look forward to meeting you again”

“I’ll show you out” She decided, nodding him towards the door as she drew herself from her desk and walked past him in long, commanding strides “Can’t have you snooping around my offices, can I? A lot of hard work gets done here, Thomas Shelby, and I pay them duly. I have heard opposite things about you that I hope aren’t true”

“I pay my workers the pay I see just” Tommy told her as they walked through the hallway “Do you criticise the ethics of everyone you deal with, Miss Jamie? Or have I caught your eye” He asked, turning this back into his own game.

“Yes. I do. It’s important for me to know what I’m partnering with, and although you are a working class man, you seem to have gained an air of capitalism”

“I became successful, Jamie Leanne Pine, and if you want to succeed, you’ll gain an air of capitalism too, because the system works in a way that only allows it” Tommy told her, standoffish at the blatant rejection of his normally very capable alluring skills. Boasting about his wealth normally worked, alright?

“And yet I am the one who pays her workers a liveable wage whilst still having the ability to buy four of those rolls royces you love so much. Food for thought, Thomas. I shall see you soon”

“Once you’ve gotten off your high horse, Ms. Pine” Tommy told her at the door, looking as if he had bitten into a lemon or something else sour and bitter. He tried to walk off and leave her wanting to have the last word but actually letting him have it, but she had to add her two pence.

“But it’s the only way we can speak face to face whilst you sit on that gilded throne of yours, Mr. Shelby” She smiled, waving him off. Jamie looked like a sarcastic teenager, not unlike the girls that Tommy would have flirted with before the war.

Tommy swore under his breath as he got into his car and she dissapeared into the middle of the three back to back houses that had been converted into the inconspicuous office of a drug cartel. The woman had shot every small opening to flirt down, and his only plan was to do that. She had him pinned, and that both scared him and turned him on, amongst other things that she had done. He really could not stop thinking about those fucking dress pants.

He could not let her interrupt business, no matter how good she looked in dress pants or how she managed to hit everything he was thinking about changing in the business. Polly had influenced the thoughts, but now that that woman had suggested it? He wasn’t doing it. Nope. He wasn’t listening to her unless she was saying something he liked, and that was that. Grace wouldn’t have said any of that to him.

“Thomas” Polly interrupted his train of thought once he had settled in his office “I know that look on your face. Someone’s threatened your general ego again, and you haven’t got blood on your clothes so you didn’t kill them. We do not need you fucking another mentally deranged whoever, alright?” She told him strictly, hands on the desk, gripping the edges as if she were about to grab it and throw it at his head with superhuman strength that Tommy wouldn’t be surprised to find out she had.

“Thank you, Pol, for the input” Tommy rolled his eyes, gesturing to the chair for his aunt to take a seat “We have made a deal with Miss Jamie Leanne Pine, and we also have a plan” He added, though he was making it up as he went along in all honesty. He made most his plans as he told them people, and no-one noticed so he must have gotten good at it.

“Oh, fucks sake” She groaned, looking him in the eye “For once, could you not accept the deal and realise that she has the government at her beckon call? If she wants us dead, it will be christmas all over again. My son is not going to be hung again, Thomas.” The one thing that Polly would never forget, of course, she had to bring up. Why couldn’t she bring up any of the times he’d succeeded? Fucking hell. Polly looked at him with those eyes of blazing fire and steel ice, and realised that she wanted a reply.

“She is also a massive pain in the arse. I assume the government is  getting tired of being bossed around by her, which is where we swoop in” Tommy explained, the plan sounding perfect in his own head.

“She’s a pain in the arse to you, Thomas. Because she won’t worship your dick like the bible upon meeting you. But to the government? She feeds an addiction they can afford. I repeat - My son is not going to be hung again, Thomas. If this goes to shit, as everything does, on your head be it” Polly told him with fierce eyes and then walked out with a stride that could only be described as an angry, stylish bull.

Thomas groaned, leaning back into his chair. Why did no-one trust him? Thomas Shelby always won. He always survived, he always made it. People just got a little bit hurt along the way - nothing that couldn’t be fixed, though. Maybe he had betrayed his morals, as Jamie had put it. He had put food on the table, though, and got a fucking OBE. Her offices were some shitty back to backs in Cradley Heath, and the Black Country Boys had refused to get in the middle. She had no-one. Tommy had everything. Yes, Tommy was definitely on higher ground, he thought.

Meanwhile, workers had finished for the day and left, and the only ones left were Jamie, and Linn, her accountant and sister. It was easy to tell that they were sisters, Linn was nearly a replica of Jamie, but unlike Jamie’s cold, ice green eyes, Linn’s were warm like honey on the sweetest of days. Linn held a buoyancy about her that shone through her skin and made her seem like the softest thing alive. The fact that she kept her hair in a ponytail with a ribbon probably didn’t help much, and the fact that the ribbon always matched her dress probably didn’t help much either.

The thing about Linn was that she didn’t want to scare anyone, she just wanted to do her accountancy, go home, nestle up to the fire, and make sure that everything was okay before she went to bed. Jamie was the opposite - she wanted to strike fear into the hearts of everyone she met, and Linn thought that she did it pretty well. The only person she cared about was Linn, and the rest could watch themselves burn before she cared.

“So, Thomas Shelby” Linn hummed, looking at her sister “I heard you mention ethics at  least twice, which meant you were grilling him on the quality of his worker treatment. I thought we were going to be nice, J? We do not need those crazy yams coming to us with knives”

“We can handle them in a second, you know that. I just couldn’t help myself, Linn, he was there, the opportunity was also there, and I needed to scare him at least a tiny bit. Plus, he tried to insult me on his way out, bless him.” Jamie smiled, sipping her whiskey “Did you see him? Tried to seduce me as well, I think. As much as I’d enjoy that, business is business.”

“Oh, J. Try not to fall in love with him, okay?”

“Try? Linn, I’m not being funny, but he’s a jumped up yam, and not my type at all” She scoffed, leaning back in her chair “Plus, I’ve got to make sure that when he betrays us, which he will, we’ll be prepared”

“Jamie, I think you might be getting this wrong” Linn told her softly, “You can’t assume everyone is going to hurt you - what if he doesn’t? And we end up business partners?”

“Then I’ll be thankful, but for the moment, we don’t trust Tommy Shelby as far as we can throw him - he’s not that stocky either, so we could throw him quite far” Jamie told her with a hum, making Linn laugh. She made a little overhead throwing gesture, which only increased the laughter in the room “C’mon kid, let’s get you home”

[dailyjeons]

BTS account 13/10/18

didn’t do merch cause i did that in london, didnt go for studio cause that was probably not feasible with how our lines were going (at least i was too scared to do it).. sucks cause i didnt get allowed into the london booth while in the amsterdam booth everyone was queue-ing up anyways and getting in lol

bolding the subjects so you can skip parts that dont interest you

pre concert stuff So I was going to the concert with a person(Julie) I met through tumblr, she responded to my message asking if people wanted to queue up in GA with me cause I was alone. She was with a group of people and they basically adopted me so that was nice!!  Julie was super kind, constantly looking out for me, for my anxiety too and just I really loved being with her, time really flew!! We prioritized looking out for eachother over seeing the boys so I was really happy bout that! We basically queued up at 7AM in the 'unofficial line' that later on became the official one! Campers were sent out, I believe, but they probably came back early still! We still had a fairly decent spot I suppose? The camping out itself wasn't too stressful but I had a lot of anxiety bout being in the pit in a crowd of people, not havin bathroom breaks and being on 2 hours of sleep gjkfg Julie tried to reassure me through all of that. there were some fans giving out some stuff in the line!! like arts and stuff and i got this from a jimin fansite, i think she was japanese? 

it was so funny basically she did rock paper scissors with fans to determine if they’d win.. i lost but she gave it to me anyways?? LOL she didnt give it to anyone else that lost LOL

gettin into pit Eventually we got in and fortunately my tickets worked!! We like rushed into the left side but the view was not bad, ok, then we tried for the right side and we got similar views? But I think overall it was just a little better! We were around the sixth/fifth row in the pit but we moved up a bit to the fifth/fourth during the concert. I had a fairly good view on the stage, and could see the boys clearly!! I still used my iphone to film cause of the amazing quality zoom it has and i have so much gooood footage ahhhh my hands are super shaky though so thats annoying but oh well, its something! they like handed out water very often thank god so i could cool off and drink durin the concert!! we had to stand for like 3 hours inside so i was getting really nervous but once the concert started it was fine!!

concert Anyways the concert itself was mindblowing? They're actually sosososo good live it's actually insane how they sing live through their choreo or while bouncing around. Tear is still my favorite performance but the crowd went a little too wild around then so i didnt enjoy it as much :( They also did the medley I prefered (w Baepsae) which made so happy cause i got to experience both medleys now jdskfhfsdf.. i do feel like the performances were better for the London date, but the interactions and the boys happiness were on a much higher level in Amsterdam, especially with jungkook flying around trying to dance!! That said I felt like the crowd fell a little bit flat.. When the Jimin/Namjoon VCR was playing everyone was screaming initially for both but after a hot minute they like only screamed for Jimin?? The silence was actually deafening so Julie and I decided to help with Namjoon's screams then, and it was so disappointing we were legitimately the only 2 people screaming for him in such a venue lol. Crowd did however go wild at Kim Seokjin's performance, and IT'S WHAT HE DESERVES. Overall I think Seokjin and Jimin had the best reactions in Amsterdam, and London both.

impressions on boys As for the boys. Gonna be honest with y'all I was so busy filming Jungkook solo all day that I didn't really notice others?? fdjkghdf since i already had thel ondon date i figured today was jungkook's day now i had sights on him proper.. Some notes, Yoongi, Jimin and Namjoon spoke some Dutch and it was super cute!! Yoongi did it first fjgdkhfdg 

Yoongi: Super smol but big hands, and fluffy cheeks (he bloats really easily lolol) his see saw performance was REALLY good today too, i feel like reaction to seesaw is the best, everyone's always singing the whole song w it while most of the crowd struggled with their title tracks in both london and amsterdam LOLLL yoongi must be so proud over it.. also he's the first to speak in dutch to us but it was like really suddenly right before they were performing so nobody really noticed fjghkdfg and u know when he makes a dad joke and he smiles flustered, but nobody reacts to his jokes.. he did that thing LOLLL

Namjoon; very long and slender, his legs are legit 70% of his body and he went offffff today like when he's into shit like tear i cry cuz oh my god merCY kjdfhgdhjkfg Namjoon seemed to really love Amsterdam tbh he kept talking bout stuff to do while the others had fairly standard stuff to say, with a lot of repeat from the london concert too (which is fine vconsidering its hard for themt o speak in eng too)

Hoseok: He looks a lot sharper irl?? im not sure if i said differently last time, but now i saw him up close he's definitely much more handsome, cameras dont do him justice.. also he always has the most gentle smile on his face and it calmed me down a lot jkfgh

Taehyung: tbh im not sure if i missed him but i didnt really see him on my side a lot? i think like a few times i tried to film but couldnt really get it..?? julie did tho.. he's kind of.. small? but not small like yoongi but small like i'd confuse him for a high school kid.. BUT his face?? is really smth else his face is SO small but his features are sooooooo big and sharp.. god himself shaped this boy

Jin: ok yeah this man is 10000% more handsome irl liek i was filmin jk and lost focus and then jin appeared and i almost dropped my phone cause what the fuck?? hes GORGEOUS.. he didnt do the forehead/glasses look today though, unfortuantely cause jesus christ that was something else. he was bein a crackhead to jk again today rofll

jimin: he's legit a fairy irl lol it doesnt make sense.. like.. he's... really pretty....... super super super pretty, guys like legitimiately glowing.. he was super playful today and he seemed really happy to perform on his birthday which is super pure considering.. who likes working on their birthday? he like moved his dressshirt/blouse off shoulder a bit during the fake love portion of the set and oh ym god h..e..........HE... his collar... i want 2 kiss it.......platonically.

as for jimin's birthday.. omg he's so cute? they were at the extended stage when his birthday message came up (a message in dutch) and he like instantly rushed back to the main stage to show off his birthday message and he proceeded to talk in dutch about how it's his birthday, and how army are his gift?? it was suuuper cute!! imagine Jimin practicing his dutch just for this moment fdgkjhdf

jungkookie!!

Anyways onto ma boy!! Jungkook is absolutely unreal pretty. He didn't look as bloated/pained today so i guess i saw The Jungkook today and he's so.. sharp looking??? like his jawline and cheekbones are insane and like the dimple?? ughhhhh he looked a lil smaller now i was upclose but his thighs were still gods gift.. also he did forehead kookie instead of coconut kookie, i remain blessed.. he always hears my prayers..

throughout the show he was honestly super cute, he kept dancing in his chair to the choreo, spinning in circles while doing it, hopping around the stage slowly to wave and look at every fan.. he even looked towards me at some point but i legitimately dodged and turned away cause like I FELT SO GReaYS ANd i'd rather not have him see me like that lmaooo anyways it's so super cute how despite his injury he still tries to give it his all at all times, and now he could walk around he's instantly back at trying to make interactions with all fans?? a precious baby honestly!!

his ending ment was really-really sweet as well and it always amazes me how eloquent he can get when he gets to share us his real feelings.. i really am glad he's not too disappointed in himself anymore and has reached a point where he's just working on getting better instead<3!!

other than that, just like in london.. jungkook's vocals are insane. i don't care that he's not top tier vocalist in terms of technique but he got smth completely else and thats' how comffortably he can move around in his range and remain stable and it's just.. so amazing to hear him hit certain notes with almost.. ease? voice never cracks even after 23948234 songs it's so sickkkk

anyways this was definitely one of the best nights in my life.. despite allt hes tress and anxiety.. i’m sosoosos glad i went through all of this for that.. i had the greatest company and ended up having the greatest experience<3

[fromthebottomup-blog1]

Goodbye 2017, I thought you’d be different

The heavy weight of 2017 had me quite disappointed. I thought this would be a grand year, but instead I got death, sickness, misunderstanding, and a lot of mirror in the face syndrome. I did however obtain some great things as well. I guess, I’d sum up this year as an evil seesaw of circus magnitude. Unfortunately, it will get worse in 2018. 

It’s not that I am not hopeful, I just think the world is going through a transformation and like all transformations, there is a trajectory of chaos to tranquility. I’ve been on this path personally for a while and am hopefully coming out of the abyss. Not so much internal chaos, but more of a transition of lethargy and a cumbersome routine to actually pursuing what I want out of this life.

This year has been a whirlwind. The older we get the more swiftly time swooshes past us and the more we are reminiscent of those carefree college years. Youth, mostly. I felt the impact and realization that 45 is just around the corner and to be honest...it scares me. Watching the streaks of white hairs contrast with the black, noticing the wrinkles, noticing the heaviness of my body, noticing the thinness of my tresses and feeling the oppressive energy of the current world left me a bit disheartened and angry.

I experienced things this year like no other. I experienced alienation for my political and social stance on certain issues. I experienced the come to Jesus moment that I can no longer use my time to soothe the wounds of others while mine are newly scabbed. For the first time ever, I experienced racial prejudice. I also realized I’m not the right kind of feminist. I apparently was mistaken about what being a woman in this world means. I walked out of a job I loved for the first time in my life. I experienced severe anxiety for things I could not control and literally thought I was going insane. Despite how all this sounds, not everything was a big ball of negative energy, there was some room for the good.

This year I fell more in love. Love for the person who is consistently there for me. Love for the one who worries if he thinks something has happened to me. Love for the one I can laugh hysterically with for a good 15 minutes because let’s be honest...farts are funny. Love for his little one who constantly surprises us and makes us smile as she becomes her own little person, even if she isn’t mine. Love for the most thoughtful partner I’ve ever had in my life. Love for my family, although we have our differences, in the end I cherish them. Yes, there was a lot of love in the wake of the big bad that surrounded me.

This year I found a new calling. I have truly lived up to the moniker of “Dame of All Trades”. As I walked out of my dream job and into another, I realized that I deserve to be appreciated for the hard work I put in. I love that I can be creative. I love that I have a boss who doesn’t want to pin me down or throw my ideas away for his own, but who is nurturing and believes in what I bring to the table. I never would have thought that I would be in the real estate business, but hey, I surprise myself a lot sometimes. I feel like I can grow where I am and I feel more confident because of it.

This year I fell in love with Thomas Shelby in Peaky Blinders again. I celebrated my youth through Star Wars. I cried through This is Us. I savored every single moment of Game of Thrones and I binged through The Defiant Ones, Master of None, Stranger Things, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and The Handmaid’s Tale. It was an excellent time for visual stimulation. I did indulge in the YSL exhibit at the VMFA for some artistic love. I realized as I write this, I should probably incorporate more art into my routine. 

This year I I enjoyed the sonically charged Cult of Luna and Julie Christmas in New York, tested my old bones through Converge, and started it all off with City of Caterpillars at the beginning of the year. Revisited my adolescence by seeing the Psychedelic Furs again. I went to a house show where there was a Square at the “bar” and saw my friend’s Jimmy Eat World tribute band and I truly accepted that nothing will ever be the “same” again.  I was earwormed by Anousheh’s “Bones” and My Little Pony soundtracks...nothing like waking up in the middle of the night because you can’t get this out of your head:

So there was that. 

Finally this year was a lot of firsts. First time apple picking. First time having a real Christmas Tree. First time in 7 years with a semi new car. First time being debt free. First time singing Karaoke in a public venue in front of people (after several jello shots). First time I don’t feel guilty because I cannot change the past and although sad that people are manipulative and non-responsive, I know I did my best. And for the first time ever I have a core group of female friends who respect, understand, inspire, support, and care about me and I them like no other group of women I’ve ever had in my life before. Completely refreshing!

My connections remain strong and ever growing, my education perpetual, and despite the ugliness and sadness I felt during the whole year, I am hopeful. We will reach the enlightenment that is due. I feel like this year I’m beginning a new spiritual and creative journey.

I am forever thankful to my family and friends who give me strength and purpose. Thank you for never judging my decisions. I give a heartfelt sympathy for all of you who have lost someone this year. I know a lot of you lost family abruptly and I’m sorry you had to contend with that loss. To all the births this year, thank you for including me in your news and introducing me to your little ones, nothing brings me more happiness. To all those who’ve shut the door on our relationship, I am disappointed I meant so little, but I am not sorry for being me. To all those going through a divorce after such long histories...it is not over, there is always a beginning. To all those I reconnected with, you were never forgotten and I’m glad our friendship has endured. 

With that, I wish a hopeful, healthy, and prosperous 2018! We will resist and overcome all the turmoil, but there needs to be a disruptive catalyst in order for us to change.  Change is not easy, but necessary. Be kind to each other and show compassion. We are not the same and it is in those differences we can truly grow. Tell those around you that you appreciate them. Get rid of the clutter and open up your hearts. Happy new year to you all!

And here are my goals for 2018, if you feel like reading further:

Turn 45 with exceptional grace, lots of dancing and champagne

Travel somewhere I’ve never been

Love, Dance, Read, Write, and Collaborate More

Get my real estate license

Start a new creative venture

Finish a House | Find a Home

Do something constructive within my community

Go riding for the love of all that is equine!

See more art

See more music

[tuanyiems]

No Jam (Part 2)

Characters: Reader x Markson (GOT7) Genre: Angst, Fluff, Slice-of-Life Words: 4400 Plot: He said you were boring–not enough. You agreed. You were happier on your own anyways. But six months later you find yourself on a blind date with a new guy and late night talks with another. Looks like being forever alone is not on your agenda. [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Masterlist] a/n - Yes, there is going to be a part 3 after all ^^ Thanks for reading!~ - I stood outside the coffee house, fingering at my white sun dress and tapping my pink heels against the pavement nervously. Today was going to be the second date with Jackson and for some reason I was more nervous now than last time. Perhaps it was because we were going to go out this time, or maybe it was because I was more committed now.  I hadn’t really considered last time to be a date. In my head, it was just a meeting and Jackson had arrived a whole hour early so I didn’t even have enough time to get nervous. So here I was, in one of my favorite dresses that suddenly felt too short and wearing the most make up I’ve ever had on my face since the break up six months ago.   I couldn’t help feeling like I should’ve worn something else. Jackson refused to tell me what he planned for today. He insisted on surprising me and I had a gut feeling that I shouldn’t have worn white…or a dress for that matter.  But as I was contemplating whether to go back home and change, Jackson came rushing my way looking like sunshine with his blond tresses and wide smile. He was in a casual t-shirt and jeans and suddenly I felt overdressed.   But my worries were quickly pushed aside when I saw what he was holding.  “You brought Bob?!” I exclaimed in disbelieve, giggles bubbling out of me. Jackson answered with a high-pitched laugh, holding the potted plant out proudly.

He pointed to the pink bow he had taped to the side of the pot. “You guys match!” I chuckled at his cute enthusiasm. “Looks like Bob and I have some chemistry,” I joked. Jackson gave a slight pout. “Hopefully not more than us,” he added before taking hold of my hand and leading me down the street. I looked at our hands together. It was weird—holding hands with a different person. I could feel the calluses on his palm rubbing against my hand and it reminded me of the hands I used to hold. He had calluses too. Jackson let go of my hand, bringing me out of my thoughts. “Here we are!” he announced, pointing at the building in front of us. It was the train station. I laughed at his silly, pleased grin. “You’re surprised right?” He chuckled. I nodded, waiting for his explanation. “I don’t use the train system very often. I thought we could go on an underground adventure together!” And despite my hatred of public transportation and being in crowds of people who didn’t understand the word “personal space” I ended up smiling and entering the loud and humid air of the underground place. It was hard not to smile and go along with it when Jackson looked so eager. But I was really regretting wearing heels today. “Be careful with Bob, Jackson,” I said as we finished paying for our tickets. He smiled, showing me that he was holding the pot tightly. I smiled back before leading him towards the train platform. “So, can I get a hint about where we’re going?” I asked as we took a seat on a bench, waiting for the train to arrive. “Let’s make it a game!” Jackson declared suddenly and I swear I saw his eyes twinkle. “Let’s ask each other 20 yes or no questions.” I chuckled. “Alright.” “Ladies first.” “Mm, are we going to an outdoor place?” Jackson tapped his chin, glancing up thoughtfully. “Mmmmmaybe.” He laughed loudly at my crestfallen face. “I know I said yes or no answers but it’s kind of both,” he explained. I nodded my head before looking away. The train was arriving, disrupting our game as a crowd began to gather. I grimaced as Jackson and I were pushed into the center amidst the hot and sweaty bodies—one reason why I hated summer. But I couldn’t stop worrying for Jackson who was holding onto Bob tightly with two hands. Although it was hard to fall in between so many bodies, my mother instincts were kicking in. Squeezing myself between the people, I managed to grab at the bar in time as the train began moving. I linked my other arm with Jackson’s to keep him balanced, almost breaking out into a fit of laughter when I saw his eyes on me. His look of surprise and gratitude made him appear exactly like his nickname—Wang Puppy. I breathed a sigh of relief when we exited the train. “Okay, it’s my turn now?” I gave him a funny look as he dragged me up the stairs and into the open air. “Our game,” Jackson reminded me. “So, do you like animals?” I smiled. “Yes…Are we going to see animals?” Jackson giggled before walking ahead. “Maybe~” I chuckled at his silly teasing before catching up to his pace. I wondered if we were going to the zoo. I hadn’t gone to the zoo since I was in grade school. The idea made me smile. But as Jackson led me towards the river, I knew it couldn’t be the zoo. He nudged me with his elbow as we approached the edge of the water. “We’re going to ride swan boats!” Jackson grinned proudly, as he stepped into the swan boat, placing Bob in his lap before patting the seat beside him. I smiled back before carefully taking a step forward, trying not to trip on my heels. I was really regretting my choice of shoes today. I smiled at one of the workers who had taken my arm gently and eased me into the boat. “Whoo!” Jackson cheered once I was settled in. “Let’s row all the way to Jeju island!” I laughed, clapping my hands softly with him. “You lied,” I added. “You said we’d be both inside and outside.” He gave me a cheeky grin, pointing above us. “But there’s a roof, isn’t there?” I laughed at his logic and he joined me with his hyena cackle. But my own enthusiasm quickly wore off as I found myself struggling to peddle with my too-short dress and pink heels that were not so cutely falling off the peddle every two seconds. “Look at those two ducks,” Jackson pointed out as we passed them. I smiled politely, my hands tugging at the ends of my dress as they continued to slip further down each time I peddled forward. “It looks like they’re on a date too.” I nodded. “Looks like they’re already married.” Jackson chuckled. “I hope I’m not like that when I’m married.” “What do you mean?” “They’re not even talking or touching,” he explained. He turned to me with a grin. “I want a marriage that never loses its spark.” “I see,” I replied quietly, glancing back at the ducks. “I don’t think I’d mind their kind of marriage though. I think it’s comforting to have someone you can be silent with.” “That sounds boring,” Jackson chuckled in response and I felt myself tensing at the word. “Won’t you get tired trying to think of things to talk about all the time?” “Mm, if it’s a good relationship I think there’ll always be things to do and talk about, but that’s just me,” Jackson laughed. “I like to talk if you haven’t noticed.” I laughed along, nodding my head. “I wish I could be more like you. Sometimes there’s just nothing left for me to say.” Jackson shrugged, putting a friendly arm around me before smiling at me reassuringly. “But there has to be people who listen to the people that talk. I think we complement each other well in that sense.” I nodded before quietly looking ahead. “You have a million stories in your pocket. You just don’t share them.” Mark’s words from the other night kept ringing in my ears like an annoying echo. But I liked Jackson’s interpretation. It was true. In fact, my very relationship with Miyoung was founded on the fact that she had so many stories to tell and I was good at listening to them. And Miyoung and I have been close friends for years. If I can maintain a friendship with Miyoung, I could do the same with Jackson, right? I could already hear Mark scoffing. I let out a sigh. I shouldn’t have stayed late at the coffee house that night. If Mark and I never had that conversation, I would have had a lot more fun on this date. …right? “For someone with so many words inside, you sure don’t tell people a whole lot.” “So Y/N, what do you do for a living?” Jackson spoke up again. “Besides cactus farming.” I laughed, brushing aside my worried thoughts. “I’m just an assistant, just secretary work,” I replied with a smile. “You come here every night to work on your book. That makes you exactly a writer.” “What about you, Jackson?” Jackson grinned as if he was anticipating that question. “Well, my main job is a high school gym teacher but I volunteer at a children’s hospital after classes and I’m a weight trainer during the weekends.” My eyes widened as his list kept going on. “Wow, Jackson, that’s amazing.” He blushed at the compliment, smiling coyly. “Is that why you have calluses on your hands?” “Ah, yeah,” he chuckled sheepishly, looking down at his hands. “I used to be self-conscious about it, but now they’re like my trophies. Every time I get a new one, it reminds me that I’m doing my best to become a better person.” I liked that. Jackson was more hardworking than he let on. It sounded like a tough life though, being that busy. “How do you find time for yourself though?” “What do you mean?” “How do you recharge after doing so many things? I’m just an office assistant but by the end of the work day all I want to do is go home.” “For a girl who so proudly claims to be fine by herself, you sure don’t like being alone.” Jackson chuckled softly, looking off into the distance. “For me, I don’t need that alone time to recharge. When I’m with my students, or the children, or with my trainees—seeing them trying their hardest—it motivates me to keep going. I don’t need to recharge because it’s like they’re my batteries already.” I nodded my head. Spoken like a true extrovert. Something in the tone of Jackson’s voice was so sweet though, it made my heart smile. But I wish I could experience that kind of feeling too. No matter how I thought about it, being with people always ended up tiring me. But I’m an introvert. I’m boring. That’s something I just couldn’t change. After the swan boats, Jackson, with Bob in the crook of his arms, led me along a garden path, telling jokes every other minute until I was sure I’d wake up with abs the next day. We walked and laughed like this until the evening had cooled into a purple dusk. “I had a great time, Y/N,” Jackson spoke up as we stood on the corner of a street just a couple blocks away from my apartment. “Bob did too!” I laughed. “You must’ve had a hard time carrying Bob everywhere.” He shook his head with a grin. “It was fun bringing him around. He gets lonely cooped up in the house all the time.” I chuckled lightly. “I’m glad you agreed to seeing me again,” he admitted quietly. “Well, it was too hard trying to resist Bob,” I joked before giving him a warm smile. “I had fun, Jackson.” He gave me a final bright smile before saying his last goodbye, and as I waved him off in the opposite direction, I let out a long breath I didn’t even know I was holding in. Letting my shoulders slump, I walked on, feeling a soreness in my legs that I knew was going to be a pain tomorrow morning. I shivered as the night air blew at me. I probably should have brought a sweater along, but then again, I probably shouldn’t have worn what I did either. My steps slowed as I passed the coffee house. There he was behind the counter, biting at his bottom lips, eyebrows furrowed as he wrote down his calculations. I couldn’t help smiling at the familiar sight. As much as I hated how his words echoed through my head the entire day, seeing him in the flesh was always a pleasant sight. “Noona, do you want to come in?” Coming out of my trance, I smiled at the barista who was about to lock the front entrance. I glanced back at Mark who was too busy to notice me just yet. I shouldn’t bother him tonight. But my body moved on its own and I found myself moving towards the familiar seat behind the bar stand. At the sound of my heels clicking against the hardwood floor, Mark raised his head up curiously. A smile spread across his face as an identical one made its way to mine. “You look pretty,” he uttered quietly as he closed the register. They were spoken softly, those simple words, but suddenly all of today’s regrets vanished. I was glad I wore this dress. I took a seat by the counter, watching as Mark put away his notes. I let out a groan of relief as the strain in my feet subsided. He glanced my way at the sound. “How was your day?” I sighed, leaning forward to rest my head in the crook of my arms. “It was fun. I’ve never laughed so much.” I closed my eyes, listening to Mark rustling behind the counter before his footsteps made his way towards me. “Did you have dinner yet?” I shook my head, turning to look at him with my head still on my arms. He looked at me softly. “Me either,” he replied. “Shall I treat you to that meal then?” I asked as I lifted myself off of the counter to face him. He chuckled softly. “You aren’t tired after your date?” I was. Normally, I would’ve insisted on going back home, but tonight felt different. “I’m not too tired. Plus, I owe you a meal. If you don’t take my offer now, who knows when I’ll be offering it again.” Mark smiled softly. “Must’ve been a good date then.” I shrugged my shoulders with a smile. It was a good date…but how do I explain this feeling? …Like this entire day I had been holding my breath, waiting for this moment. “Aren’t you glad you gave dating a fair try?” Mark grinned cheekily at me. I smiled at his playful mood. “I still wonder if I’m the right girl for him though.” Mark looked at me to go on. “I mean, Jackson is amazing to the point where it sounds almost impossible to be true how kind and hardworking he is…but his personality is…so much like my ex.” I paused, my eyes trailing down to the floor. “I can’t help thinking that I’ll eventually be too boring for him too.” Mark nodded quietly. “But maybe you should worry less on whether you’re the right fit for him, and focus more on whether Jackson is the right guy for you.” I smiled at his advice before shrugging my shoulders. “How about we think about dinner? What do you want to eat?” I got up from my seat only to wince as my feet hit the floor, the strain on my legs coming back to me twice as painful. “Are you okay?” Mark asked, ushering me back into the seat. “Did you hurt yourself?” Before I could even answer, Mark pulled at me heels and examined me. His eyes widened at the sight of dark red blots staining the back of each heel. He took hold of my foot, revealing the raw skin behind both of my feet. “Y/N,” he sighed my name before letting go of my leg and standing up. “Wait here.” Mark left to the back room, returning with a first aid kit in hand. Taking a seat next to me, he lifted my leg onto his lap. “You walked all day with your feet like this?” he muttered as he began disinfecting the raw skin with light dabs. I cringed at the painful stinging. His face softened when he saw. “Sorry,” he whispered, dabbing lighter now. “But you need to speak up when you’re hurting.” I bit at the bottom of my lip as I watched him attend to my wounds quietly. “What do you want to eat?” I asked again. Putting on the last band aid, Mark looked up at me with a chuckle. “Let’s have dinner another time. You should go home and rest.” I nodded quietly. “Next time then,” I muttered. “I’ll treat you to something extravagant.” He laughed, “I’m holding you to that, Y/N.” I smiled as I watched him take the kit back before returning with a pair of pink clogs in hand. I laughed at the sight, allowing Mark to slip them on me. They hung on my feet awkwardly, being two sizes too big. He unzipped his hoodie and handed it to me before grabbing at my heels and walking away. A smile resting on my own lips, I slipped on his sweater before following behind him. With the clogs on, we began walking to my apartment even slower than usual. But I was glad. For some reason, I didn’t want to go home today. But it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be alone. Mark was wrong about that one. If it was Jackson or Miyoung walking me home, and even if it was my ex, I probably would have been glad to be heading home. Mark’s company was just different. I couldn’t explain it. “Mark,” I murmured, my hands fingering at the edges of the sweater. “What’s your ideal girl?” He broke into laughter at my sudden question. “What? I-I don’t really have one.” “Then, ideal relationship?” Mark chuckled. “Where is this coming from?” “We visited a pond today and saw these two ducks. Jackson said he didn’t want a quiet marriage like that—that marriage for him had to stay fun.” “I think that’s a fair thing to want,” Mark spoke up. I couldn’t help feeling disappointed at those words. “But, everyone’s definition of fun is different.” He smiled gently at me, his arm brushing softly against mines. I could only frown though. “I don’t think I’m fun.” “Y/N,” “I go to your café at the same hours and I do the same things. Aren’t I boring?” “Why are you so stuck on being boring?” he let out a weak chuckle. “I’d rather call it…being consistent.” “But that’s boring isn’t it?” “If it was boring, you would have stopped, right?” he spoke up more firmly now. “But you haven’t because you’re doing what you love. I think being passionate and driven is anything but boring.” “But I do the same things over and over,” I sighed. “Today, whenever I asked Jackson a question about himself, he could go on and on with a story, an anecdote, a joke. His life is so full and interesting. But I’m just an assistant. I go to the office, then the café, and then home, every single day.” “There’s more to you than that. You keep saying you have nothing to say but I know of this journal that is proof that you have many things to say.” He looked at me, his eyebrow raised because he knew he was right. “You’re a really private person, Y/N. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that, but it seems like you’re afraid to share yourself. You end up holding back your words.” I bit at my lips as Mark’s words settled into the air. “Maybe I’m just being selfish,” I finally spoke. “I just want someone who can accept me in all my quietness.” Mark nodded his head calmly as we reached the door to my apartment. For a while, we just stood outside my door, not moving and not speaking. It looked like he had something to say but instead, Mark just smiled. “Rest up, Y/N.” He took a step back. “Ah, wait,” I interrupted. “I-umm, do you want to have dinner here?” He looked at me curiously as I fumbled with my keys. “I mean, I’m not much of a cook, but I make a pretty mean ramen.” He chuckled, his eyes crinkling into sweet lines, as I finally got my door to open. “I am pretty hungry,” he admitted, setting my heart at ease as he stepped forward again. I smiled, gesturing for him to follow me inside. “You can take a seat on the couch while I cook. Sorry my place is a little messy right now.” He chuckled as he looked around my studio apartment before settling down onto the couch. As I made the ramen, I watched as Mark’s eyes wandered around my place. He was the first guy in six months to enter my apartment and well, only the second guy to enter ever. As I chopped up whatever vegetables were in my fridge, I began to question my impulsive actions. Perhaps it was too much, inviting him in. But we had barely seen each other all day and I found myself wanting him to stay. Even if we didn’t exchange another word for the rest of the night, I wanted him beside me just a moment longer. “Y/N,” Mark spoke up, walking towards me. “Are the drawings on your table part of the book you’re working on?” I blushed, staring down at the ramen cooking on the stove. “Ah…yeah,” Mark broke out into a wide smile. “I didn’t know you were an artist too.” I rubbed at the nape of my neck shyly before turning around to grab bowls for our ramen. “They’re just doodles…it’s a children’s book.” Taking the bowls from me, Mark helped to set them on the living room table. For a while we just ate silently. I watched as Mark’s eyes trailed towards the coffee table where I had drafts of my drawings laying around. Quietly, I got up, shuffling the papers into a neat pile before taking them into my lap. “It’s what I’ve been working on the past six months,” I finally spoke up, handing Mark the pile for a closer look. I ate my ramen quietly as I watched Mark finger through each page slowly. His gaze lingered over the last page carefully before he finally raised his head to look at me. He smiled, setting my heart at ease. “You’re the first person to see my work, Mark,” I commented when he didn’t say anything. “Please be gentle on my fragile heart.” “You should have more confidence in yourself,” he spoke quietly, handing me back the pile. I blushed, setting the pages aside. “And you say you aren’t a writer.” I took a big bite of ramen, looking away as a smile crept its way onto my lips. Mark smiled softly before finishing the rest of his ramen. After clearing the table, I sat beside Mark on the couch, neither of us saying a thing, but it was a comfortable silence. It was a quietness I had only ever shared with Mark. A safe kind of quietness. Mark glanced down, his hand beside mines on the couch. Our fingers were just barely touching but I could feel the warmth of his skin next to mine. “Are you gonna go on a third date?” he asked gently. I looked up to see him biting at his lip softly. I glanced down thoughtfully. It actually never occurred to me. Jackson never asked for a third date before we said our goodbyes. Maybe he didn’t want a third date. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy,” he spoke up after my silence. “No, you’re not,” I replied with a chuckle. “I just don’t know the answer to your question.” “Is it because you’re hesitant about dating, or are you unsure about Jackson?” I chuckled, leaning closer to him so that our arms touched. “How do you always know the right questions to ask, Mark?” He laughed quietly against me, wrapping an arm around me. And though Jackson had done the same thing today, this felt different. This felt both safe and nerve wrecking at once. I could feel the tiredness from my body melting away as I let myself lean into him. “What’s your ideal guy, Y/N?” I closed my eyes, feeling Mark’s steady heartbeat against me. What did I want? I wanted a guy who I could be quiet with, who just understood me. I wanted someone who could be patient for me, allowing me to open up at my own pace; someone that didn’t find me boring. “Are you asleep?” Mark whispered, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Umm, I don’t really have an ideal guy either,” I finally answered. And this time, Jackson’s words rang in my head. I didn’t understand him when he said it, how being with people recharged him, but this was it, wasn’t it? It was why I came to the coffee house every evening. It was why I wished for our walks home to be longer each time. And it was why I invited him into my space, a place that even Miyoung had never entered. “It’s getting late,” Mark uttered. I nodded my head, getting up suddenly. “I-I’ll treat you to something fancier next time,” I blushed sheepishly as I handed Mark his sweater back. He smiled. “No heels next time.” I chuckled as I walked him to the door. “Thanks for always being there for me,” I whispered as I stood at my door. Mark bit at his lip as he took steps back slowly. “I just,” he mumbled, glancing at me softly as he stopped moving backwards. “I hope you know that you’re enough.” I nodded my head quietly, as I watched him walk away. I stayed at my door even as he disappeared completely from sight. And despite the smile on my lips, tears streamed down my cheeks for the second time in six months. I hope you know that you’re enough.

[joongie-smiles]

National Selfie Day (June 20)

*Livvy is the only one who is really excited about this one.

*She was looking through random stuff online when she came across ‘National Selfie Day’. She was confused so she asked Kit about it and he explained that each day of the year there are a bunch of weird national days and that honestly no one really pays attention to them.

*But Livvy is confused

*Why wouldn’t you celebrate such fun days?

* As a Shadowhunter who isn’t supposed to live for long, she thinks that the family should embrace this silly national days and participate in them. So she announces that since today is national selfie day everyone would take selfies and the person with the best selfie wins a prize

*At first everyone (mostly Julian) is dubious but eventually warm up to the idea because they could all use a break

*But it’s not a nice break they were expecting

*first it’s just a couple picture here and there and nobody is really trying that hard until Livvy raises the stakes and declares that the looser doesn’t have to do any chores for a whole 3 months of their choosing. And the rest would practically do the winner’s every bidding.

*Now they are interested

*Everyone has they’re reasons but one thing is for sure, they don’t want to loose

*Julian has been basically raising these children and would be lying if he said he didn’t want a break [heck he deserved one]

*Emma hates doing the chores, especially in an Institute this big

*Mark just thinks it would be fun to get more involved in normal mundane activities

*Cristina is in the same boat as Mark [and she may or may not want to get a couple cute selfie of her and Emma and her and Mark]

*Kit doesn’t like taking pictures that much but is willing to do it to get out of chores and offers to help Ty out [and it is totally not because Ty looks really cute when he furrows his eyebrows to try to get the best angle to take a picture at pshh]

*Ty is a bit confused with the appeal but is willing to try it for his sister with the help of Kit [and no he is not asking Kit to stand under the sun and take pictures there because it makes his blond hair look like tresses of gold and make his eyes glitter like the calming sea, it’s entirely for research purposes]

*Livvy just loves every aspect of it and was the one to come up with the idea

*Dru will bE dAmNeD iF sHe HaS tO bE tReAtEd LiKe A fReAkInG sErVaNt AgAiN

*Tavvy just likes taking the funny pictures

*They all work hard and alliances are formed:

*Emma and Julian

*”Come on Jules it will be cute to take a picture with the weapons.”

“No it won't”

“But Jules!”

“Emma, no.”

“Emma, yes.”

*Mark and Cristina

*”I agree it was a good idea to take a picture with the flowers, but do you think it’s wise to be hanging above a rose bush?”

“Of course it is, Cristina, the rope is very sturdy and it won’t – Ah!”

“Don’t move around too much or–”

“Ouch!”

“– nevermind let me just get my stele.”

*Kit and Ty

“Move that 2 inches to the right … not your right my right … no, Kit, the other right … By the Angel, Kit to the other side!”

“Hey you try getting all the Sherlock Holmes books to aline perfectly while lying on a table vertically!”

“But you’re the one who offered to do it.”

“It was - I was - I was kidding, Ty. That was sarcasm.”

“Oh. I don’t get it.”

“I’ll explain later.”

“Fine. Now get in front of them in the sunlight.”

“It hurts my eyes.”

“Just do it!”

*Livvy didn’t want to share her prize so she worked alone, taking selfies with her room and the computer they owned [and maybe a couple of Kit and Ty being cute]

*Dru didn’t think she needed anyone’s help so she also worked alone and took selfies with her collection of horror merchandise

*Tavvy didn’t really get the concept and so opted to work alone but every once in a while someone would help him hold the camera, take the picture, set up his book buildings, etc.

*In other words, the Institute is a mess

*”Hey, I’m using this room.”

“No you’re not, we are!”

“Julian! Kit locked Ty and himself in the library and he won’t open the door!”

“This is our lair, nobody’s allowed.”

“Holmes and I are busy at work in our office.”

“Yeah, our lair-office.”

“Mark put those plants back outside, you are tracking dirt inside.”

“But they are lovely.”

“And it was hard work getting them.”

“Are there any bugs in them? Maybe I can lure Ty out.”

“By the Angel, Dru, turn off that movie, you’re scaring Tavvy.”

“I’ll turn it off when Livvy puts back her sabers!”

“Yeah, I need it to complete my sword aesthetic.”

“I’ll put it back when Tavvy cleans up his mess.”

“But it’s ART! Right Julian?”

“Yes, art.”

*The end of the day roles around and everyone is ready with their best selfie

*Julian’s and Emma’s is one of Jules covered in paint and Emma brandishing Cortana. They are both smiling into the camera with goofy expressions, Julian scrunching his nose and Emma blowing her cheeks out and going cross eyed

*Cristina and Mark’s is one of Mark braiding beautiful flowers in Cristina’s hair

*Ty and Kit’s is one of Ty peacefully reading a Sherlock Holmes book in a large chair and Kit behind him, smiling and bathed in sunlight

*Livvy’s is of her on the beach with her hair flying behind her and blue sky and glimmering ocean behind her

*Dru’s is of her next to her TV showing her favorite part of her favorite slasher film

*Tavvy’s is of him laying down next to a city of books and a train track he made

*They all judge the best picture, with a rule that you can’t vote for yourself

*Before they can come up with the winner Diana shows up and submits her own selfie

*Diana’s is of her and the Blackthorn family including Emma and Cristina in front of the Institute, all with large smiles and happy faces.

*Diana ends up winning [with minimal complaint]

*”Don’t forget to scrub the bathrooms.”

“Emma would you be a dear and get me more lemonade?”

“Come one, Livvy, put your back into it.”

“Yes, Ty, you may keep your headphones on, just make sure Kit doesn’t cause more of a mess.”

“No, Dru, this is not considered child labor.”

“I have counted every jewel encrusted dagger we have, Kit, so don’t think you’ll be able to get away with stealing one.”

“Julian, won’t you make me some cookies?’

“Cristina is working in the garden because she deserves to do something she likes. Try to be nicer, Emma, and maybe you’ll be able to do the same.”

“Just clean up your toys, Tavvy. Then I’ll give you a cookie.”

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