#today in relatively chill songs that happen to have quite a lot going on in them at the same time

[ijswezel]

genghis tron | dream weapon

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing | drabble i. | m

WARNINGS. jealous jk, jk's gf is hot and he's not the only one who thinks that, jimin and tae as instigators, i swear jimin and jk love each other, fucking in public spaces aka a car in a parking lot, jk luvs his gf, appearance of perpetrator jin!

NOTE. i missed this couple 🥺oc is living her hot girl summer life and jk does nawt know how to deal with it Lol. hope u enjoy loves!!!!

WORDS. 3k+

“I’m okay,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he repeats his own personal mantra. “I’m good. I’m fine—I’m chill. Chillest person ever. I’m good—”

“He’s not okay,” Taehyung snickers.

Jungkook blocks the negativity out, purposefully and intentionally. Nothing could ruin his day—not on his watch, especially as the sun shines over bodies across the beach while the waves break into beautiful fragments that he’s yearning to dip his feet into.

Personal affirmations came first.

“I’m good, I’m fine, I’m okay,” he chants like a crazy person, definitely earning some form of side-eye from the people next to him but he can’t be bothered. Another person thinking that he was insane wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him—not when—

“You should open your eyes,” Jimin says, “How are you going to fight them if you don’t know thy enemy?”

Immediately, Jungkook’s peace is disturbed by the mouth of Park Jimin, who painfully reminds him of why he’s got into the entire personal mantra and affirmation thing. He used to think it was redundant, unnecessary. How could the universe return your wishes just as you’ve uttered them into the atmosphere? It didn’t seem logical to him.

But right now, that didn’t matter—not when he had bigger things to be worried about.

“Don’t disturb my peace,” Jungkook snaps.

“They did it first,” Jimin retorts, cocking his head towards the flock of people at a certain part of the beach, specifically towards where the water meets the shore.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. His peace is disrupted, his happiness is compromised and it’s all Park Jimin’s fault. He spent a good amount of time getting into his zone, reaffirming himself that he was in fact, fine, good—he was okay! But now, he feels all his resolve dissolve when he realises he can’t even see the main thing that was responsible for his dilemmas.

“You’d think a celebrity was on this beach,” Taehyung snorts.

“Not helping,” Jungkook says dryly.

“So isn’t your crazy person chanting,” Jimin points out, “but yet, here we are—listening to you reciting your own version of a biblical verse.”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook grits for the umpteenth time, and no less is his assertions any more convincing than it was a moment ago. The flicker of his irises towards to crowd is enough to prove that fact. “I’m just enjoying my day at the beach with my friends and my girlfriend.”

“See, there are two false statements in that,” Taehyung tilts his head downwards, offering a smug smirk that Jungkook wishes he could shove into the sand beneath him. “You’re definitely not enjoying this because I can see the veins protruding out of your neck at how hard you’re clenching your jaw, and”—the older boy makes the effort to taunt Jungkook further by letting out a low whistle the moment the crowd seems to grow slightly bigger—“you’re partially right about the friend part. Your girlfriend though … where is she?”

I’m good. I’m okay. I’m cool—

“Oblivious, as usual,” Jimin sighs, plopping back onto the beach towel beneath him while shooting Jungkook a pointed stare. “It’d be sad if you only called her your girlfriend for six months when you’ve been in love with her for seven years.”

“Okay that’s it. I’m going there,” Jungkook declares, huffing as he pushes himself off the ground while Jimin makes an effort to grab at his ankle, halting the younger boy from causing any damage and potentially getting them banned from ever returning.

“Not with that temper you aren’t,” Jimin snaps, “Sit your ass down. God. Can’t you take a joke?”

“A joke?” Jungkook splutters, abhorred. “You literally just said she’s going to break up with me!”

“I said that it’d be sad if—”

“Same fucking difference,” he hisses, rubbing a hand across his face before he kicks Jimin’s petty grip off his ankle while levelling him with a menacing glare. Jungkook’s eyes slowly drift to the side where you finally enter his vision, still smiling like the soft and sweet person you were as you help Namjoon with whatever crab hunting mission he had.

See, Jungkook’s mature enough to know that you and Namjoon were good friends, great ones, even. The two of you were smart and clicked well, and if anything, Jungkook was more envious of the fact that the two of you shared such a wholesome and meaningful friendship than anything else.

The fact that Namjoon used to have feelings for you didn’t bother Jungkook anymore, not when he knew where your heart truly laid. He also trusted Namjoon with his entire life and his firstborns (not that he’d ever tell you that, and God—did he hope that day would eventually come when it came to you). But still, Jungkook was mature—he did some growing up, and he was proud of that.

But Jungkook’s human, a flawed, ever-learning and constantly improving human. A human who’s crazy in love with his pretty girlfriend that he’s longed for years—and a human who isn’t blind. A human who can’t ignore the fact that, apparently, he wasn’t the only person that was trying to keep himself in check at how stunning you were. Every day—and especially today, with how your dainty yellow bikini drapes over the curves of your body.

Jungkook nearly cries. Yellow was his favourite colour. You wore it for him.

Not for—

“Maybe you should head over,” Taehyung murmurs, snapping Jungkook out of his love-filled mind as his eyes clear, immediately catching what his friend was referring to.

Some dude. Talking to you. Smiling at you like you carried all the answers to all the world problems as you giggle a tune comparable to birds chirping. Maybe Jungkook was exaggerating but it always sounded like you were singing his favourite song even if you were just explaining economical concepts to him like a soothing e-book.

“God, why couldn’t she have been ugly,” Jungkook groans.

“You wouldn’t have dated her otherwise,” Jimin retorts.

Jungkook gawks, affronted as he gives his two friends a scandalised expression as he places his hands over his chest to indicate the offence he took to that statement.

“I’m not superficial,” he huffs, “I fell in love with her because of her—”

“Personality, yada yada,” Jimin mocks him in a lower tune that has Jungkook glaring at him. “Yeah, okay. But don’t tell me that her being pretty doesn’t help you bust a nut every once in a while.”

Jungkook flushes.

“Well, yeah, but I’m her boyfriend—”

“Thank you for reminding me that you are in fact, still a boy,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “Men. Mansplaining everything, really.”

Jungkook’s jaw slackens as his eyes briefly land on Taehyung’s figure who doesn’t look too bothered with how the conversation turned out as he shrugs in response.

“How about you do the typical manly thing of being a jealous prick and go over there and stomp over all her fan club members,” Jimin says sarcastically, resting his arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

There’s a brief rustle from where the sand meets the towel, and a relatively long period of silence while the only thing that permeates the air is the sound of waves with laughter coming from a family a distance away.

“He did exactly that, didn’t he.”

“You need to stop giving him ideas,” Taehyung sighs, plopping a grape into his mouth before occupying the space next to his friend. “Should we find another beach to frequent?”

“Really?” you laugh, “That’s so cool! I’m actually planning on landing an apprenticeship there over the summer.”

“Oh?” The man is leaning way too close to you for comfort, but you’re unfazed. Jungkook doesn’t even want to know where the hell Namjoon had gone, leaving you with this broad-shouldered, terrifyingly handsome man. “I could definitely put a good word in for you if you’d like.”

You beam, appreciative rather than brazen. But Jungkook thinks the man doesn’t know that.

“I don’t think I can accept that, Seokjin.”

And of course, you knew his name.

“Why not?” Seokjin smirks, and Jungkook knows that it’s definitely done him justice in other situations. “For a beautiful—”

“____,” he interjects, smoothly (or not quite) sliding next to you as his arms wrap around your waist before his glare rests on the man before him, who looks both shocked and unbothered at his appearance. “Who’s this?”

You jump slightly at Jungkook’s arrival but relax when you realise that it was just him and not some other beach weirdo.

“Jungkook, this is Seokjin! He actually attended our university—”

“Really,” he says dryly, “That’s nice.”

“Is this your …?” Seokjin looks Jungkook up and down before settling with a rather unimpressed look. “Do seniors usually bring their shadows out for playdates?”

Your eyes widen at his patronising tone, and before can even think to correct him with a tilted frown, Jungkook’s fingers dig into your waist, a precursor to his jaw that clenches while he engages in his own version of a staredown with the man before you.

“Boyfriend.”

Seokjin raises a brow.

“Me,” Jungkook blinks, unnerved and quite frankly, tired. He’s crossed this bridge enough times, and it’s always the same. Some older dude who thought that you were doing charity work by having Jungkook tag along with like some puny little brother. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Jungkook—” you start, softly reaching to grip his arm.

“Interesting,” Seokjin says offhandedly and Jungkook knows it’s anything but. “Well, my offer still stands.”

He’s directing it to you as you peer up at him with your notoriously innocent eyes. Jungkook hates that this douche is still unaffected by his blatant declaration of the fact that you were—taken.

“I—that’s fine, Seokjin,” you say softly, lips curling into a thankful smile before he nods.

The look he sends Jungkook is nothing short of unimpressed, and Jungkook’s thinking of clamming the dude into the sand and quite literally, bury the hatchet with him. Sure, he was handsome and broad, and undoubtedly ripped—but Jungkook trained to benchpress twice his weight so he could beat up assholes who tried to hit on his girlfriend.

Right before he leaves, Jungkook calls for his name—intentionally calling him Seokmin—noting the way his face drops into a scowl.

“You’re not her type.”

He scoffs.

“And you are?” he throws back, brows raised as a challenge.

“That’s why I get to hold her and you’re walking away.”

With that, Seokjin doesn’t bother responding to Jungkook, especially in the way that you gawk at your boyfriend’s blatant warning to the older man.

He titters off, and it’s effectively just you and Jungkook standing by the shore while you briefly see the way Namjoon stutters before deciding to return to where Jimin and Taehyung lays.

Jungkook’s still seething in his rage, clenching and unclenching his fists even though he got the last word. It wasn’t that he thought you’d elope with Seokjin and leave him—he trusted you wholeheartedly and vice versa. He knew you loved him and so did he.

It had more to do with the fact that Seokjin saw you, and eventually, him—and thought that Jungkook wasn’t fit to be your boyfriend. That he saw a gorgeous girl on the beach and expected her to be single, and if not—to be with a boyfriend that had his shit together and not … not Jungkook.

“Jungkook?” you say quietly, tugging at his elbow while you peer up at him with wide and apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry.”

It’s no good, the fact that you’re apologising. As if you were responsible for his insecurities when you’ve done nothing but shower him with love and support ever since the two of you started officially dating.

“Don’t apologise,” he says stiffly, though his heart isn’t angry—he can’t help the way his words get out. “It’s not your fault.”

“But—”

“If you apologise then you’re gonna piss me off, baby,” he says lightly, peering you down with a small smirk as your eyes widen.

“I—okay,” you say weakly, and before he knows it, you’re intertwining your fingers with his, eyes suddenly twinkling in a way he’s grown all too familiar with.

“You have the keys?” he murmurs softly.

You nod, blind and in love as you sigh.

“Take care of me?” you ask sweetly, and Jungkook forgets all about Seokjin when he has you right in front of him.

“O-Oh, fuck—Jungkook—ngh—”

Maybe Jungkook really was a crazy person, but he’d argue that you were equally as crazy to oblige to indulge in his lewd fantasies. He was crazy, for you and your cunt that was like nirvana, and it’s proven further when he fucks into you at a brutal pace, uncaring whether or not the car shakes with the exertion of the activities that were taking place in it.

It could be the fact that he had a decade worth of fantasies to play out, but he knows that he plays a huge part in opening your sexual nature and he couldn’t be happier about it, especially when you unabashedly throw your head onto your chest, whimpering with the dirty squelches of his thrusts that echo in the vehicle.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he growls, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to force your glassy eyes to look at him.

The look on your face is enough to get Jungkook even more riled up, your flushed cheeks and swollen lips while you nod your head manically, crazy—and his.

“Y-Yours,” you whimper, and just about then, Jungkook brings your hips down with his free hand and meets you with a sharp thrust that has your mouth dropping open and your face scrunched up in pleasure. “F-Fuck, J-Jungkook.”

“No one gets to fuck you like this,” he hisses, pressing a hot kiss to your neck as you whine, hips involuntarily swivelling to meet his fast pace. The car is shaking and it’s all too risky, Jungkook knows that—but his rationale is clouded with the antagonising face of Seokjin. “No one gets to see you like this. Only I do.”

“Y-Yes!” you sob, clutching onto him as he feels your pussy tighten viciously around him, the walls of your inner linings spasming as Jungkook hisses at the feeling. “Only you K-Kook. Only ever want you.”

Jungkook believes you, especially when you desperately hold onto him as he feels himself slowly reach the edge. He knows you are too, especially when your whines get higher in pitch, and your tugs against his shoulders get tighter. He knows because he’s learnt about your body as your boyfriend—and he’s the only person that will ever get to have you like this.

The thought, paired along with the risk of your situation only fuels his determination to get you off, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you to root you into place as he shoves his cock deeper into you.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he croons as you mewl in pleasure, breathless whines turning more desperate as your eyes flutter shut. “You wanna show me how much you want me?”

You nod manically, your pussy fluttering around his length as he grunts in exertion.

“G-Gonna—pleasedon’tstop—fuck, I-I’m cumming—!” you cry, tugging your face into the crook of his neck as Jungkook bites his lips in focus, all ready to accept your hot pleasure and his own.

“Come for me,” he encourages, lips hovering over your earlobe as you obey his orders, head thrown back as he watches your mouth drop wider and your eyes roll to the back of your head, pussy tightening around his length.

Jungkook thinks you’re beautiful. On days where you don’t feel like you do, but he may be biased to say that he thinks you look absolutely stunning for him like this. When he knows that he’s the one responsible for your reddened cheeks, the way you so desperately cling onto him whenever you’d orgasm (the only person that would ever know this fact about you), and the way that you’re left breathless, satiated and with that hazed expression after his resolute efforts.

Jungkook cums shortly after, with those exact thoughts plaguing his mind. He was so whipped. He really only had to think of you and he would get hard, and having you right above him, soft and warm with your arms draped loosely over his form made his heart all mushy and soft despite the way his cock stands erect.

You mewl in oversensitivity although you don’t complain. You never do, whenever Jungkook cums after you. Even now, when Jungkook comes down from his high with pants of his own, his own mind-clearing while his cock softens in you—you remain patient. Patient like the ever-loving, wonderful girlfriend that you were—one that Jungkook wasn’t sure he deserved.

“Wow,” you giggle, forehead resting against his as you return from your own post-orgasmic bliss. “I can’t believe I let you fuck me in a parking lot.”

Jungkook flushes, reality sinking in when he realised that the two of you weren’t hidden from plain sight. While the idea of being caught was definitely arousing, Jungkook knew he wasn’t too keen on having anyone see you delirious, even if it was all for him. He was lucky enough that your bikini top remained on the entire time, but both your sweaty bodies were enough of a dead giveaway.

“I just,” Jungkook tries to explain, words slurring in embarrassment as you raise a brow at him. “You look really pretty today.”

You stare at his forlorn expression as if admitting that pained him. Jungkook feels slightly embarrassed at how he reacted, and if you notice this, you don’t point it out—yet.

“Wore this for you,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to the mole under his lip. Jungkook’s heart soars at your admission even if he knew that. “You know it’s only for you, right?”

Your question is purposeful and Jungkook shamefully looks to his lap, and even then—you’re still connected. He slowly pulls out, wincing when his cum threatens to pool out of your pussy, but before he can pretend to clean you up, you’re putting your bikini bottoms back in place and clamping your hands over his cheeks so that he’d look at you.

“Jungkook,” you say sternly.

He sighs.

“Yes,” he groans, feeling a lot like a child who’s being berated. “I just—God. He was such a prick.”

“I know,” you say gently, fingers combing through his hair while he melts into your touch. “There are a lot of pricks out there, but you know that I only love you, right?”

Your confession is the same as the one you’ve made six months ago, and just last night before the two of you fell asleep—but it’s a confession that Jungkook never grows tired of.

“I know,” he mumbles as you giggle at him. “It’s just that … he really thought he had a chance with you, and when he saw me it was like—”

You frown, finger pressed against his lips to stop his rambling as he peers up at you with doe-eyes.

“None of that,” you chide lightly, “I don’t care what people think. The only person I care about is you, and no one will change that, okay?”

Jungkook feels himself relax into your touch, especially when you lean forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss that isn’t set to lead anywhere. He remembers. He remembers the times where you were unsure and all too worried of the words of others—and here you were, with him and with your gentle and loving soul, the embodiment of comfort as you tell him the words he’s always known but needs to be reminded of.

“I love you,” he says quietly as you grin widely at him, “Sorry for—you know.”

You roll your eyes, lifting your leg to get off his lap as you wince at the cum that threatens to escape your lips.

“I mean, it was kind of hot,” you shrug with a small smirk.

“God, I’ve created a monster,” Jungkook snorts, looking over at you when you shoot him a devious grin.

“You love it,” you throw back cheekily, leaning into his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you with a sigh.

He does. And he knows that he’s the only one that you’ll love back.

[yellowsuitcase]

You’re mine // Draco Malfoy

A/N: This is an anon request I received. I had to alter the wording of one of the prompts a little bit for it to make sense, I hope that’s okay. Also please be mindful that this is my FIRST smut I’ve ever written. I’m happy with how it turned out but omg was it difficult. But anyway, enjoy and don’t be afraid to request! {Prompt list}

Summary: Draco and Y/N are friends with benefits until Y/N decides she’s done with him. Cedric tries to get with Y/N Draco gets jealous and smut follows.

Warning(s): SMUT! Swearing, Angst, Fluff

Word count: 4.4k

Prompts: #1 #4 #7 #28 #35 #47

All she could think about was his face. The way his grey eyes had pierced her soul last night—the feeling of his hands on her hips. 

“Earth to Y/N.”

Her attention snapped back to the present. A perplexed Hannah was looking at her. “You alright? You looked really zoned out.”

Y/N blinked rapidly, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Sorry. What were we talking about again?” Y/N asked while lightly slapping her cheeks to bring herself back to reality.

“We were going over our plans to study for the transfiguration exam. We agreed to meet in the library on Sunday.” Hannah said, her tone sounding slightly irritated.

“Oh yeah, that’s…” Y/N caught sight of him, her eyes glued to him until he left the Great Hall, “fine. That’s fine.” 

Hannah followed her gaze. “Seriously, Y/N? Malfoy? That’s who you hooked up with last night?”

Her friend’s words drove fear into her chest, “Would you shut up? Someone’s gonna hear you!” Y/N whisper yelled. Hannah threw her hands up in exasperation. 

Y/N shrugged her shoulders and picked up another slice of bread.“So what if it was Malfoy? What’s wrong with that?” she asked, oblivious as to why Hannah was so upset.

“What’s wrong with that? Y/N, you simply can’t be serious. Malfoy’s an arse. He bullies anyone who isn’t a Slytherin. Hell, he’s bullied you numerous times. Not to mention he’s not even that attractive.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open upon hearing her friend’s words. “Not attractive? Hannah, have you gone blind? Have you looked at the guy?

Hannah rolled her eyes and dropped her face into her hands. “There’s no hope for you. It’s over. I mean, I can already tell you’ve caught feelings.”

“I most certainly have not!” Y/N exclaimed, inadvertently causing the people around her to stare. “I’m not an idiot, it was a one-time thing,” she muttered while picking at her eggs.

“I hope you mean that,” Hannah said. Y/N couldn’t meet her eyes.

Her friend sighed and reached across the table to grasp Y/N’s hand. “Don’t think too much, you’ll give yourself a headache.”

Y/N ignored her and pulled her hand away while saying, “Snape will have our heads if we’re late, we’d better go.”

The two Hufflepuffs rose to their feet and made their way to the doors. As they were walking through them, Y/N felt a hand grab her wrist. She let out a little yelp and whipped her head around to see none other than Draco Malfoy. “I need to speak with you,” he said, his tone firm.

Hannah had noticed her friend disappear from her side. When Y/N looked back at her, her hip was popped, and her eyebrow cocked. Her facial expression suggested she wouldn’t be happy if Y/N stayed behind to talk with Draco.

Y/N gave her an apologetic smile, hoping it would appease Hannah. It did not. She shook her head and promptly stomped off to class. 

Slowly, Y/N turned around to face the blonde boy behind her. His hand hadn’t left her wrist, but he let go once he realized he was still holding it. Clearing his throat, he looked both ways before speaking. 

“Have you told anyone?” his grey eyes once again pierced her soul.

She shook her head, but then remembered Hannah. “I haven’t told anyone, but Hannah did figure it out,” she said, nervously biting her lip. His eyes flickered to her lips before returning to her eyes.

“If we are to continue this, nobody can know. Do you understand me?”

Y/N couldn’t keep her eyes from widening in shock. “I’m sorry, did I hear you correctly? You want to continue this?”

Draco raised his eyebrow. “You don’t?”

Her hands waved frantically. “No, no, I do, I just… I dunno, I didn’t think you’d want to is all. But I’d like to continue, yes. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

Draco gave her a displeased look, “You’re very annoying,” he said, “But you’re accessible so just keep it under wraps, alright? Besides, you wouldn’t want to see what happens if I find out you’ve told people. Understand?”

Y/N was quite frankly insulted by the way he spoke about her. He straight up, had called her “accessible.” She was about to give him a piece of her mind, but then he gave her a look, and she thought better of it and nodded frantically. 

“Yes. My lips are sealed.” She rocked back and forth on her heels in an attempt to calm herself down.

Draco scanned her up and down before nodding. “Good,” he said. And then he began to walk away. Y/N didn’t think before calling out to him. 

“How will I know when you wanna, you know, do it?”

He didn’t bother to stop walking when he called back, “I’ll find you.”

-------

Y/N buried her face in her pillow. If she concentrated, she could still smell his cologne on it. She breathed in deeply as she reminisced the events of a few nights prior. Somehow, Draco had found her while she was taking a midnight trip to the kitchens. He didn’t have to say anything to her, she knew what he wanted, and frankly, she wanted it too. 

He took them to her dorm since it was closer. He pushed her up against the wall, wrapped his hand around her throat, and whispered in her ear, “Such a pretty mouth. You’d better keep it shut, though. Wouldn’t want anyone to hear us, would you, darling?”

She still got chills when she thought about it. Lucky for her, it was a Saturday, meaning she could stay in bed as long as she liked. Or so she thought.

“Wake up. They’re serving pancakes today. You don’t wanna be late,” Hannah said in a sing-song voice. Y/N groaned; she really needed Hannah to stop interrupting her daydreams.

“Oh, don’t be like that. They’re serving blueberry pancakes.”

Y/N flung the sheets off her chest. “On second thought, let’s go,” she said. Hannah laughed, “I knew that’d get you up. You really need to stop staying up so late, though.”

“Yeah yeah, you need to stop getting up so early. The plants aren’t going to die if you fail to water them at exactly six in the morning.”

“How do you know? You forget to water Pepper all the time.” Hannah replied.

Pepper was Y/N’s little cactus. It sat on her nightstand in a yellow pot. She loved Pepper dearly.

“Hannah, Pepper is a cactus, and cactuses don’t need a lot of water, so take that!”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Come on; we might legitimately miss pancakes if you don’t hurry.” And with that, the Hufflepuff threw on a sweatshirt and jeans and rushed down to the Great Hall.

Y/N was practically running through the corridors; she could almost taste the pancakes on her tongue. “Geez Y/N, wait up!” Hannah called after her, desperately trying to keep up. 

In her haste, Y/N didn’t notice the group of people turning the corner, and she wasn’t able to stop her feet. She crashed right into the boy in the middle of them.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you,” Y/N stammered, holding out her hand to the boy she’d knocked over. 

He got to his hands and knees and pushed himself up. When he turned around and faced her, Y/N’s heart sunk. 

“Y/L/N?” He scoffed. “Look where you’re going next time. Blimey, what a waste of space,” he shouted, his minions laughing along with him. Y/N felt her face burn with embarrassment and a little bit of hurt. 

Hannah, who had caught up to her friend, chimed in, “Shut up, Malfoy, why do you insist on being such a git?”

“You wanna say that again, Abbott?” Draco threatened, reaching inside his robe for his wand.

“Hey, hey, let’s just calm down, alright? Nobody’s hurt, we ought to keep it that way,” Y/N reasoned, despite her desire to give Draco a right punch in the gut. Reluctantly, he put his wand away.

“Come on, boys, these twits aren’t worth our time,” Draco said coldly as he and his friends strutted away.

“What a knobhead, I mean honestly, you’d think he’d be a bit nicer towards the girl he’s sleeping with,” Hannah said through gritted teeth. Y/N didn’t even care about her friend’s volume. After all, it didn’t matter anymore. 

“Well, he’s not sleeping with me again. Not after that, I’m done with his shit,” Y/N said, tears gathering in her eyes.

Hannah smiled upon hearing her words, “Bloody hell, it’s about time you realized he was no good. Now let’s get some pancakes, yeah? Come on, you deserve some.” The pair walked into the Great Hall to begin their pancake feast.

---------

A few weeks later, Y/N was sitting on a bench by one of the many windows in the Hogwarts corridors when a boy wearing a Hufflepuff scarf walked up to her. She looked up and noticed it was Cedric Diggory. Cedric was only a year above her, but they hadn’t talked much.

“Cedric? Do you need anything?”

He smiled, “Nothing in particular, no. I just saw you sitting alone, and I thought you might enjoy some company. Am I mistaken?”

Y/N felt her face flush. “Oh, uhm no, you’re not wrong at all,” she stammered.

Cedric stood awkwardly. “Oh! How can you sit if I don’t move over?” Y/N asked while she gave a nervous laugh. Cedric was by far one of the most attractive boys in Hufflepuff, so it only made sense that his desire to sit with her, of all people, was making Y/N nervous.

He chuckled at her anxiousness and took a seat next to her. The bench was relatively small due to Y/N’s things taking up a quarter of the space. This caused her hips to touch his. This made her face burn even more.

“So why are you all alone on a Friday afternoon?” he asked.

Y/N felt her heart clench, “Oh well, my best friend, Hannah, and I are actually in a little bit of a row at the moment. I may have unknowingly talked about her crush a bit too loudly, and they overheard. She’s not very happy with me, understandably.”

“Ah, I see. But it was an accident, and surely she’ll forgive you sooner rather than later. Don’t you think?” Cedric asked, trying to reassure Y/N.

“I hope so. Lately, she’s been a bit dodgy. She’s been really short with me, yelling at me all the time. It’s not like her,” she remarked. 

“Perhaps she’s dealing with something personal. And if she is, then she’s probably taking out her frustrations on you. And don’t get me wrong,” he said while holding his hands up, “that doesn’t make her actions, okay, but if that is the case, then that would mean you’re not the problem. Does that make sense?” Cedric asked.

She gave him a warm smile and nodded her head. “Yeah, actually, it does. Thank you, I never thought about it like that,” she said.

He laughed, the deep baritone of his voice coming to the forefront. “Well, I’m glad I could show you a different perspective on the situation. Sometimes that’s all you need.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” she said. When he didn’t reply, her eyes fell to her lap, too nervous to look him in the eyes. But then she felt his hand on her face. He gently took her chin between his thumb and fingers and turned her face upwards to look at him. He was smirking. 

“You don’t need to be nervous, sweetheart. I don’t bite,” Cedric said as he moved his hand from her chin to her hair. He pushed some stray strands behind her ear so that her face wasn’t covered.

Y/N’s heart began to pound. This boy was making her sweat. She noticed then that he had grey eyes, just like Draco. Her chest grew tight at the thought of him. She hated to admit it, but often she found herself missing the blonde boy, even if he was an arse.

Her attention was brought back to Cedric when he spoke, “If I were to ask you on a date, would you say yes?”

Air got caught in Y/N’s throat, and she launched into a fit of coughs. Cedric immediately reached for his wand. He took her hands and put one on top of the other to create a makeshift bowl. Pointing his wand to her hands, he said, “Aguamenti.”

Water spouted from the tip of his wand and flowed into Y/N’s hands. She eagerly slurped it up, soothing her dry throat. They repeated this process a couple more times before Y/N was satisfied.

“Thank you, that was so embarrassing. I’m sorry you had to do that.”

Cedric only laughed. “No problem. You sure you’re alright?” he asked.

She nodded fervently, “Yes, I promise.”

“Well, in that case, what do you say? To the date, I mean.”

Y/N tapped her finger to her lips, pretending to think. Cedric gave her an unimpressed look that made her giggle and break character. “Yes, Cedric, I’d love to go on a date with you,” she said.

A huge grin broke out on his face, and he rushed to his feet, “Brilliant, I’ll meet you in the common room tomorrow night at eight. Don’t be late!” he called as he sprinted down the hall. Y/N could only laugh at his playful nature. “Okay!” she yelled back to him. 

Once he rounded the corner and was out of sight, she let herself plop down on her back with a dreamy sigh. “I’m going on a date with Cedric Diggory,” she spoke out loud.

“How pathetic,” said a voice.

Y/N sat straight up and sharply whipped her head around. Sure enough, there stood Draco, this time without his minions.

“Shut up, Malfoy, what do you care anyway?” Y/N muttered.

“I don’t,” he said before he took a bite of the green apple in his hand, “It’s just that you fancied me a few weeks ago, didn’t you, Y/L/N?”

Y/N shifted in her seat and crossed her arms defensively. “So what if I did. I reckon you were starting to grow fond of me too.”

Draco scoffed, a smile appearing on his lips. “You’re insane to think I’d ever fancy you.”

His words were like a slap in the face to Y/N. She honestly thought that he would have developed some mutual feelings for her. It turns out she was wrong.

“Well, at least I’m not a low life scumbag like you. All you care about is your reputation. Don’t you have any emotions? Did you even care about me when we were fooling around, or was I just a toy to you?” Y/N’s chest heaved with anger as she finished yelling at him.

He stood eerily still. Silence fell over the corridor.

“You don’t even care anymore, do you? You never did.”

Draco clenched his fists, trying to control himself. But the longer he looked at her, the weaker his resolve became. Without thinking, he bolted towards Y/N, startling her as he did so.

He grabbed her chin forcefully and tilted her face upwards, a stark difference from how Cedric had just minutes ago. She avoided his eyes, breathing heavily with fear. 

“Look at me,” Draco demanded. Her eyes remained fixated on his chest.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I said, look at me!” 

He was yelling now, his grip growing tighter. Y/N was afraid of him leaving bruises, so she caved and let her eyes travel to his. His pupils were wide, and his teeth were gritted. He saw the fright in her eyes and smirked. “Scared, Y/L/N?” he asked, chuckling at the look on her face, “you should be. It seems that you’ve forgotten who you belong to, little girl.”

Y/N’s heart must’ve been going a mile a minute; it felt like it was going to break out of her ribcage. The man in front of her looked so attractive. She began to feel her temperature rising.

“You’re mine,” Draco said before he pressed his lips to hers aggressively. She gasped into his mouth; he took this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside. He ran his hand up her neck and into her hair, where he grasped it tightly between his fingers. This new leverage allowed him to angle her chin upwards. He kissed her intensely until he was forced to pull away to catch his breath. When he opened his eyes, he saw Y/N’s flushed face and swollen lips. She wasted no time and smashed her lips back onto his, letting out a soft moan as she did.

“God, you’re breathtaking,” he muttered, pulling away once again.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I hate you,” she laughed. Draco smirked and looked away from her lips so that he could gaze into her eyes once more. “Liar,” he said. Y/N bit her lip. 

“Perhaps,” she said while giggling. 

Draco rolled his eyes and leaned in to kiss her neck, simultaneously running his hand underneath her button-up shirt. He heard her breath waver as he did this. Little noises escaped his mouth when he sucked her skin between his teeth. She squirmed under his touch, unable to sit still. His hand reached her breast, and he gingerly squeezed her through her bra. 

“Let’s take this elsewhere,” Y/N suggested. Draco paid her no mind and continued to suck on her neck. 

“Draco, please. We can’t do this here, and I want you now,” she pleaded.

He pulled away to smile smugly at her. “Desperate today, aren’t we?” 

Y/N whined in response, wiggling her hips. Draco laughed at her eagerness. “Alright, alright, let’s go.”

They jumped to their feet and grasped each other’s hand as they dashed down the hallway and all the way to the Slytherin common room entrance. “Dementor,” Draco whispered. The walls opened up to reveal a stairway heading down into the dark common room Y/N had come to be familiar with. Luckily, nobody was in the main room.

They practically ran up the steps to the boys’ dorm. Older Slytherin boys had figured out how to dispel the charm preventing females from entering a long time ago, so the pair were able to get inside easily.

Draco burst through the door to his shared room with Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise. “Out,” he demanded. The boys didn’t ask questions. They simply dropped what they were doing and left the dorm room.

He turned to Y/N. “Where were we?” he asked playfully while he took his shoes off.

“Don’t tease me, Malfoy,” she replied snarkily as she did the same.

“You’re not the one in charge here, love,” Draco snapped while pushing her backward towards his bed. She fell onto the emerald green sheets covering his mattress. He wasted no time climbing on top of her. She immediately rolled her hips upwards, craving friction. Draco grabbed her hips and pushed them into the bed. “Patience, love,” he said softly.

But Y/N wasn’t having any of it. She writhed underneath him, trying to break free of his hold. He didn’t like this one bit, so he put his hand on her throat. This halted her movements instantly.

“Be still, little girl. Good things come to those who wait,” he said in a sultry voice. Y/N nodded, her eyes wide open. 

Slowly, he trailed his hand from her hickey covered neck down to her chest where he began to unbutton her shirt. She struggled to remain motionless as he skillfully removed her shirt and tie. He licked his lips when her shirt was out of the way, and he could see her full breasts. 

“Take it off,” he commanded. Y/N sat up and reached behind her back to unclasp her bra. When it fell from her shoulders, Draco latched his mouth onto her nipple, causing her to let out a deep moan. He smirked as he flicked her nub with his tongue. His other hand was making its way to her center. 

Y/N didn’t notice his touch until a finger slipped inside her. She gasped sharply and felt herself clench down on him. He detached his mouth from her breast and lightly laughed. 

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

Y/N moaned and whispered, “Just fuck me already, you arsehole.”

Draco hummed, pretending to consider her request. “No, I don’t think I will. I don’t think you deserve it.”

She whined and rolled her hips again. As she did this, he slipped another digit into her pussy. “Fuck, Draco,” she groaned. Suddenly, he removed his fingers. He watched as she pressed her thighs together, trying to stimulate herself. “What the hell?” she asked angrily. 

“Do you want me to get naked or not, darling?”

Y/N crossed her arms across her chest and pouted. He simply laughed at her and began to unbutton his own shirt as well as remove his belt. She took this time to kick off her skirt and underwear. 

Draco bit his lip when he saw her bare pussy. He felt his dick twitch in his pants, and he sped up his pace, eager to continue what he started. 

Once he’d gotten his pants off, he leaned his face downwards and began to kiss the insides of her soft thighs. She propped herself up onto her elbows so she could watch as he got closer and closer to her center. When his tongue made contact with her pussy, she felt a shudder go through her entire being, and she let her head fall back onto the plush pillows.

“Draco,” she moaned as he sucked on her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body. Her hands found his hair, and she gripped his blonde locks tightly, trying to keep herself stable as he continued to lick and suck her.

He continues eating her out for nearly ten minutes before adding his fingers back into the equation. He swiftly slides three fingers inside her wet pussy. Y/N gasped out in pleasure. “Please,” she said, not quite aware of what she was begging for. Draco moved his fingers in and out of her while still sucking her clit. “Fuck! Right there, right there, please don’t stop,” she pleaded.

Draco obliged and maintained his pace. Y/N arched her back as it all became too much. Her mouth fell open as her climax overtook her system. Draco didn’t stop his motions. He continued stimulating her through her orgasm, only pulling away when he felt aftershock jolts pulse through her body. Y/N’s eyes began to close.

“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” Draco said while pulling his boxers off and beginning to palm himself. He leaned down to kiss her softly, allowing Y/N to taste herself on his lips. She moaned into the kiss and ran her hands up his scalp. His hand reached for his nightstand to the left of his bed. Pulling away from the kiss, he dug into the drawer and pulled out a condom, quickly rolling it onto his dick.

She pulled him back in for another kiss while he lined himself up at her center and slightly pushed the tip inside. Y/N couldn’t resist the urge to wiggle her hips, successfully making Draco hiss. He put his hands on either side of her head and, without warning, slammed his dick inside her and began thrusting in and out at a quick pace. 

She cried out in ecstasy as she finally felt herself become full. The pressure in her abdomen began to build again. Draco’s eyebrows were tightly knit as he focused his energy into each firm thrust of his hips. The sound of skin slapping seemed to echo through the dorm.

Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist as he slowed his pace, opting to tease her rather than chase his own climax. The feeling of him gently pushing into her made Y/N whine in frustration. She wanted to reach her high so badly, and Draco was making it difficult. She decided she wanted to cum, so she sneakily stretched her hand down to her clit. But it was promptly slapped away by the man on top of her.

“Don’t even think about it, little girl,” he growled. But he began to pick up his pace, making Y/N mewl delightfully as the pressure once again began to increase. It seemed like Draco was getting close as well, his thrusts were sloppy, and he was panting hard.

“Please, please, I’m so close, Draco,” she cried out.

“Me too, sweetheart, me too,” he said in between grunts of pleasure.

He felt her pussy grow tighter as it contracted around his dick. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Each thrust felt better than the last. Her hips met his, eagerly, over and over until finally, she felt herself tip over the edge yet again. Y/N saw stars as Draco pounded into her even faster as he chased his release. He drove his dick in and out of her pussy until he, too, met his climax, cumming into the condom while her walls twitched around him. 

Draco lets his body collapse on top of her, both of them breathing heavily as they came down from their highs. Slowly, he pulled himself out of her, hissing as he did. She whined at the loss of her feeling of fullness. He took off the condom, threw it into a nearby bin, and then lied down next to Y/N.

“That was incredible,” Y/N uttered quietly. Draco laughed when he saw the blissful look on her face. He rolled over so that his body was facing hers, and he pulled her towards him. She nestled her face into his chest. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. However, I do need to clear some things up,” Draco said while stroking her hair. She hummed against him.

“And what would that be?” she asked.

“Well, for starters, I’m gonna need you to tell Cedric you’ve changed your mind about your guys’ little date,” he said in a firm tone of voice. Y/N laughed into the crook of his neck. 

“I’m dead serious. If you don’t tell him, then I will. Don’t test me.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell Cedric I changed my mind. But does this mean we’re…”

“Official? Yes, it does. I thought I conveyed that when I told you you’re mine,” Draco said, reminding her of today’s previous events.

He felt her wiggle in his arms. “What’s got you so squirmy tonight? You haven’t sat still for even a moment,” he chuckled. She mumbled an answer.

“Didn’t quite catch that, love,” Draco teased.

“I said, you, you nitwit,” she whispered angrily. He laughed and placed a kiss on her head. It felt good to have her back in his arms. And this time, he wasn’t going to let her go.

[ifuckinglovestvincent]

NY TIMES: St. Vincent Is Trying to Understand People

As she releases her sixth album, “Daddy’s Home,” the musician expounds on the lengthy documentaries, Janet Jackson bust and Joni Mitchell album that feed her creativity.

By Olivia Horn

May 4, 2021, 10:00 a.m. ET

Despite the hardships of the past year, Annie Clark’s sixth studio album came together with remarkable ease. “Maybe I earned a fun one,” Clark, who records under the name St. Vincent, mused. “Usually there’s some kind of ‘Dark Night of the Soul’ moment. And there just wasn’t.”

Clark, 38, spent much of 2020 shuttling between her home in Los Angeles and her family’s in Texas. But the record (“Daddy’s Home,” due May 14) was born at Electric Lady Studios in Manhattan, where she and her repeat collaborator Jack Antonoff landed on 1970s New York as their lodestar. The resulting songs ease away from the angular art-pop of “Masseduction” from 2017, opting for gentler, slouchier rock. The relative softness corresponds to Clark’s effort to treat the troubled, complicated characters that populate her record with care. Among them are the broke and lovelorn protagonist of the lead single “Pay Your Way in Pain,” Nina Simone, Marilyn Monroe and her own father, whose release from prison in 2019 inspired the title track.

Clark confessed that she did not meet her quarantine goals of learning conversational Italian or writing a tour bus cookbook, but she did read some books about the gulag. Calling from her “utilitarian” Los Angeles studio, she detailed 10 of her favorite things to watch, read and hear — many of her picks reflecting a fascination with history and an eagerness to unpack social and aesthetic violence. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.

1. William Scott Sculptures

I discovered William Scott’s work through David Byrne, at his place in New York. And when we were on tour with “Love This Giant,” we went to Creative Growth in Oakland [a nonprofit that supports artists with disabilities]. I had my eye on this bust of Janet Jackson. And then when I was back, I went and bought a bust of CeCe Winans. So I have these busts in my library.

A lot of the artists whose work I collect are people who are marginalized from society in one way or another. What I like about it is that the expression feels very pure. These are people who might not have all of the tools at their disposal or the education, or any of that, but they are compelled to make work. That kind of irrepressible urge in people — that I just find so inspiring and heartening and cool. And it’s completely divorced from any of the status of the quote, unquote, “art world.”

2. Adam Curtis’s Documentary Series “Century of the Self”

The way his work has been described is as emotional history or impressionistic history. The lines that he draws between events and trends are not exactly “A plus B equals C,” but the general thesis is like, “the collective consciousness is saying this.” As a writer, I’m always trying to understand systems and understand people.

3. Ric Burns’s “New York: A Documentary Film”

I used to live in a rent-controlled place in the East Village. But it was shady how I lived there, so I was never able to get utilities in my name. I lived there for 10 years and I didn’t have the internet, so I had DVDs. I used to go to Kim’s Video all the time and buy DVDs so when I would wake up hung over and be like, “Oh, just can’t quite make it out of bed today,” I would have something to put on. If I wanted to watch something it wasn’t like “Netflix and chill.” I associate that Ric Burns documentary with being either hung over or tired or both, and watching it in my bed.

4. Joni Mitchell’s “Hejira”

This is one of those Joni Mitchell records that I didn’t hear until I was in my early 20s. Everybody knows “Blue” and “Ladies of the Canyon,” but this is when I became a Joni Mitchell fan, with a capital F. This record’s just so deep. Her lyrics are … Cubist. I’m thinking of the one where she’s like, “In the mirrors of a modern bank/From the window of a hotel room.” And it’s all wiggles, you know? It’s like water, that record. And I don’t mean to make it about me, but I feel like I can understand some of the things that Joni talks about, like the refuge of the road, or watching the world from an airplane or being in a hotel room.

5. Maggie Nelson’s “The Art of Cruelty”

This is one of those books that I picked up six times and would get through a few pages and be like, “This is really brilliant,” but it felt impenetrable at first. Then I had this one weekend where the clouds parted, and I just could see it and plowed through it. It talks about the ethics of being an artist in a way that is so brilliant, and so not orthodox or finger wagging. I think it’s one of those books you can revisit at various points of your life.

6. Her Own STV Signature Series Guitar

Part of it was inspired by Klaus Nomi’s tuxedo. And I wanted it to hit my sternum in a particular way. I am cis female, so the way that it hits the sternum and then has a little bit of a cutaway, it makes room for my breast. But just one of them. There’s only room for one! I love it. It’s the only electric that I play, with very rare exception.

I saw people’s pictures of it from the Met [in the exhibition “Play It Loud: Instruments of Rock & Roll”], because I never got a chance to go and see it in real life. Most of the time, I just kind of like quietly put my head down and work — and then every once in a while, I look up and see something that I’ve made, and it’s mysterious that it’s in the world.

7. Wim Wenders’s “Pina”

I love Pina Bausch’s work. I was really inspired by “The Rite of Spring,” where the virgin dances herself to death. There’s this one particular movement that was like, drawing your hand above your head, and then when you pull it down, your elbow goes into your stomach — sort of like you’re open and then you’re impaling yourself. It just moved me to tears. So when I worked with my friend Annie-B Parson to choreograph the Digital Witness Tour, I was like, “Can we please incorporate this?” Another big thing: I was obsessed with falling. That was another big part of the Bausch work. How do you fall and make it look violent but not hurt yourself? I’d get a rehearsal room with Annie-B and just practice falling.

8. Vintage RCA 77-D Microphone

It’s an old ribbon mic, and it just sounds so good and warm. I know these are words that might not mean that much — when people describe sound as warm, it’s reductive. But it makes things sound and feel true. I don’t mean that it has perfect fidelity. What I mean is that when you sing into this microphone, what comes back at you feels honest. My friend Cian Riordan, who mixed “Daddy’s Home,” hipped me to this mic.

9. “Hidden Brain” Podcast

There was one recently about the idea of honor culture. You know, if someone is insulting someone’s masculinity and masculinity is tied up with honor, you have to avenge that insult. A lot of these “honor societies” end up with more violence because you have to save face and there’s less ways to assimilate conflict. The premise of so much of “Hidden Brain” is that we live by the stories we tell ourselves. And as a storyteller, that idea is very liberating to me, because if we live by the stories we tell ourselves, it means that when we get new information, we can assimilate that information and tell ourselves new stories.

10. Piazza della Signoria in Florence

The first time I was there was with my mom and sisters. I remember just walking through this piazza and having a wonderful time and wonderful conversation, and really being awe-struck by the architecture and the history, and just that life was beautiful. Another time, a number of years later, I was on tour with David Byrne and we had our last show in Florence, and I remember walking through with band members and then having the best dinner of my life after. It’s one of those places where, at very pivotal points of my life, I’ve been there and only beautiful things have happened to me.

[remys-lucky-franc]

I’m Bringing Sexy Back (To Regency England) - Immortal Heart Society

So this happened because I referred to new series IHS’s baddie Lord Montague as ‘Lord Timberlake’ due to the coiffuring similarities and it made @aquagirl1978 LOL and she made me this:

See how alike they look though?! I’m not crazy.

Literally no one in the world wants this fic, and it’s just stupid, but I had a giggle writing it, so 😆 Also, I genuinely know nothing about JT, if any of you are superfans and I’m way off, it’s just a bit of fun, no ill intent or offence meant 💕

Also it’s just in time for all the good old memes... (At the end if anyone needs a ref point)

Word Count ~3500 (yeah, I’ve gone off)

[MORE] [[MORE]]

In the grandiose but soulless marble bathroom of the Boston penthouse, Justin squeezed his eyes tight-shut, splashing his face with frigid water. He inhaled sharply as the moisture hit his skin, opening his eyes and staring intently at the reflection mirrored back at him. It had been quite a night so far. He’d been courted by ‘The Society’ for a couple of months now and on receiving their latest invite, he had finally acquiesced. Over the course of the evening he’d exchanged pleasantries and mingled with a fusion of intriguing individuals - all very different, very separate people, but all who clearly had gotten the memo: convince him to join. Justin suspected before he arrived, from the exclusive address on the invite alone, the sort of members The Society would have on its roster and he wasn’t surprised - even if most of them were no more than masked silhouettes. Initially when he had exited the elevator and caught sight of all those shaded faces, Justin’s heart stuttered: had he inadvertently accepted an invite to some sort of sexy party? How would he explain this one? ‘Hey Honey - funny story...’ But it didn’t take long to deduce that the disguises were all part of the prestige and served as identity protection rather than a conduit to anyone having any real sort of fun.

The mixer itself had been entertaining enough, but the hushed secrets shared in the drawing room were what had piqued his interested and saw him hiding in the restroom searching his own soul for answers. He’d been trading anecdotes with a handful of members before he was interrupter by a well dressed blonde and ushered through a side door, where he was greeted with a firm handshake by one of the top men within the society (apparently), Richard - Something. Initially Justin had smiled but internally rolled his eyes as he considered how these shady types only ever give out their first names - and how that felt particularly unfair when everyone here knew fine well what his surname was... Richard was perfectly charming and charismatic - in the same faux-caring, calculating way politicians are as they try to snare floating voters. His smile was bright and his words were warm, but his eyes were a stark contrast. The Society’s hoi-polloi were obviously deemed to have played their part in warming him up and now Richard was here to give him the hard-sell: and sell he did.

And at first, it sounded relatively normal. At first. Until Richard started with tall tales of how society members held all of the power in the world through power stones. Initially Justin got to his feet and scoffed - weren’t crystals just for spa days and hippies? This had to be a set up. He scanned the room looking for any clue of a hidden camera, Ashton Kutcher’s sneakers showing from behind a curtain perhaps - but nothing. It all sounded truly ridiculous, but as Richard stood, laying a firm hand on Justin’s shoulder, directing him towards a plush chair, pouring him two fingers of whisky, something held him; fascinated him. Stopped him from barging straight out of the room. Justin observed in silence as Richard thumbed through various documents, showing him photographs, pulling up search data online... Explaining. Convincing. Persuading. Justin didn’t trust the suave smarmy suit as far as he could throw him, but the more Richard divulged of the spiderweb of societal involvement in major global events and current affairs, the more sense it made... And in spite of himself, Justin started to succumb to this strange reality. Every word out of Clever Dick’s mouth was revelational, peeling away one layer after another, after another, until Justin’s mind was blown; his brain hurt the same way it did the first time he watched Inception. He couldn’t bend his mind around why Richard was telling him all this, or why a collective more powerful than The Walt Disney Company would want a musician to join their ranks? Richard shrugged coolly as he continued to play for Justin’s buy in, simply smiling and saying that, as a big pop star, it would be quid pro quo - a very mutually beneficial arrangement. The society had access to the best labels, the best A&R departments, they could get Justin as much airplay, fame and publicity as he wanted.

Justin couldn’t deny it sounded appealing - but what did they want in return? So far it was all ‘quid’ and no ‘quo’. He had to ask. Even the easy, practiced grin on Richard’s face couldn’t offset the glint of ice in his dark eyes and menace in his voice that chilled Justin’s blood.

“Justin, come! Everyone knows that music is what shapes the youth of today! The influence wielded by artists, the loyalty inspired by them, their marketability, it’s simply insurmountable! Think about it, dear boy? If The Society control the music, they control the populace.”

Justin cleared his throat as he sized himself up, readjusting his skinny black tie and squaring his shoulders. Richard must be insane. The Society’s logic was fatally flawed: they couldn’t seriously think that it was possible control the entire world’s population through having a singer in their ranks? It was infeasible. Impossible. But what they were offering him in exchange? Now, that was a very attractive proposition indeed. If he agreed to join, and got all of that out of it, it would be worth it? The Society would surely realise at some point that they couldn’t rule the world through the power of song? Yes, the power of a one-line harmony had already been proven by McDonald’s to sell a shit-tonne of burgers - and while it was a pretty convincing argument, selling fast-food to hungry people was one thing - but full-scale global domination?? That was something else entirely. But if he could ride along on their coat-tails and reap all the benefits until they realised just how crazy that idea had been in the first place...

—- two years later —-

Cash carded his hand through his dark hair, exasperated as he listened to Alana’s latest report, “You all understand that Timberlake is completely out of control, yes?”

Emilio grunted flatly as his head fell into his crossed arms on the table like a five year old ready to play heads-down-thumbs-up, “Yeeeeees.”

Cash bristled further as he looked to Rafe and Kiran for their input, both simply nodding back at him as though to say, ‘yes, we know.’

Alana looked down at her phone, worrying her full bottom lip between her teeth, “It’s worse than you think though, Cash.”

He was instantly on his feet staring at her, Rafe and Kiran leaned forward and Emilio raised one weary brow from his slumped pose, concern evident on all their faces.

Kiran was first to speak, “Alana how can it be worse? Richard’s vanished off the face of the earth. Justin’s last billboard count had him go multi-platinum - again, and his lyrics are becoming...”

Rafe offered flatly, “Odd.” He stood, cracked his neck from side to side and headed towards the small stove, absentmindedly filling a saucepan with water and a packet of instant noodles.

Cash shook his head at Rafe then turned back to glower at the rest of the Inner Circle, “Thank you all for the recap. It’s bleak, we know. Alana?”

Green eyes fixed the room as Alana cleared her throat and mouthed, “One hundred and ninety-four.”

Dumbfounded silence filled the room; jaws hung slack. Until Kiran broke the spell, a spluttering cough turning into an uncomfortable laugh, “One hundred and ninety-four what? Because I know you definitely can’t mean stones. We know the exactly location of over fifty percent of them? They’re safe?”

Rafe, back at the table with his ramen by now, paled as Alana shook her head at a loss for words, red curls bouncing around her shoulders, “How is that possible?”

Alana threw her hands in the air, confessing “I honestly don’t know. But he has ones that we knew the location of, and more besides.”

Cash paced the room, clearly agitated as he cursed and barked,

“That’s every stone in existence, except ours and one other.”

Alana puffed out her cheeks before huffing out the breath sharply, “Correct. He has the lot, excepts ours - and the Garnet.”

Emilio’s hand slid under his shirt, a double-check to be sure his Alexandrite remained firmly on the chain hidden beneath the dark fabric, fiddling with it like a child with a comfort blanket as he spoke, “I- I just don’t understand. How? How did he get so many without us knowing?”

Rafe shrugged as he shovelled a spoonful of noodles into his mouth and chewed thoroughly before answering, “Richard’s protege. His pet project. Nothing surprises me when he’s involved. Everything he touches gets tarnished.”

Alana sighed sadly, “Justin seemed like such a sweet guy when he first joined. I really liked him. I thought he could have been part of our Inner Circle someday.”

Rafe shot her a rueful smile before looking down into the noodles, “Same. He changed. Fast.” Coiling his fork in a thick helping, he swung them into his mouth without ceremony.

Cash pinched the bridge of his nose, stopping pacing for long enough to stare and snap at Rafe,

“What is it with you and those blasted ramen noodles??”

Rafe shook his head silently as though to say, ‘I don’t know’: he wasn’t entirely sure why, but every time someone mentioned Timberlake, he couldn’t stop himself from carb-loading. All he wanted a big bowl of ramen in his belly and he couldn’t think about anything else until he was full of noodley-goodness. He’d eaten more instant ramen in the past couple of years than he did during college, and that was saying something.

Kiran cut through the atmosphere between the two men, venturing, “So how are we going to shut him down?”

—-

Richard had been missing for months, and although all trails had gone cold and no one was one hundred percent clear on what had happened to him, there was very strong suspicion within the group of five that Justin had something to do with it. How else had he managed to acquire almost every power stone in existence? He must have dispensed of Richard and taken them for himself - there really didn’t seem, to be any other explanation. The Inner Circle had been aware that Richard was hoarding stones, but his haul had escalated significantly and quickly with Justin by his side - at the Circle’s last count maybe six to eight months ago, Richard only had sixty-five stones in his custody. The dirty duo had been busy.

Emilio shuddered solemnly as he thought about what must have happened to the rightful owners of those stones. He was at the tower with the Inner Circle, minus Cash. Cash would arrive soon, bringing Justin to the table with him. Creating a rouse of support, and then double-crossing him to recover the power stones had been deemed the only feasible plan. Emilio watched the rest of the group: Rafe stirring at a saucepan at the small kitchen set up, Kiran flipping aimlessly though a fashion magazine and Alana tapping at her cellphone. They were all feeling nervous about this, the stakes had never been so high. He scrubbed his brow as he ran through the various scenarios of what could possibly happen with Cash and Justin arrived.

He didn’t have long to wait as the door opened and laughter reverberated around the room. Cash was manoeuvring Timberlake expertly, and Justin seemed to be lapping up everything he said. A round of smiles and handshakes later everyone sat around the table, eyes expectantly on Cash.

“Justin, firstly, thank you for joining the group here today. As you know, with Richard... Let’s say, elsewhere. I’ve been standing in as the ‘interim leader’. And I’ll be frank, Justin, I always thought it would be for me, but it’s not. And it takes a lot for me to admit that. I can do the decision-making, the negotiations, but what I cannot abide is dealing with attitudes and egos all day long.”

Rafe chortled, “He thinks he should be the only one allowed an attitude and an ego!”

Justin grinned and visibly relaxed within the larger group.

Clearing his throat irately, Cash gestured towards Rafe, “Exactly what I’m talking about. Justin, my calling doesn’t lie in leading The Society. I am more interested in having a less ’public facing position’ shall we say, where I can really put my true talents to use. And that’s why I invited you to sit with us today, Justin.’

Timberlake nodded enthusiastically, “ I see.”

Cash stood, wearing a trail in the carpet as he walked back and forth,

“What are your goals, Justin? We understand you must be distraught about Richard’s disappearance, you two seemed close. Do you have aspirations for The Society’s Leadership? We’ve been observing you for some time, and feel that we could all benefit each other within this little group, everyone here wants to progress and wants ‘more’. And we feel like you may have some ideas that could help us all to achieve just that.”

Justin leaned back in his chair observing the group sat around the table. Of course he knew what his goals were. He’d never really considered leadership of The Society until recently - his mind had been consumed with his plan for ultimate pop domination over the past two years. And he’d progressed so far that it was within his grasp - and that was when he and Richard had begun to clash. Badly. Richard’s vision was so- So limited. He couldn’t see Justin’s potential past being a Society tool used to control the public. Justin knew his worth, he was more than a tool for Richard to implement as he saw fit. He felt the anger bubble inside him as he recalled the final fight with Richard. They could have controlled the entire world together: why couldn’t Richard have seen that? Why couldn’t he have got on board with Justin’s plans? As he sized up the twelve eyes watching him, he thought about the dozens of power stones locked securely in the safe in his apartment: these people could see his strength. His power. His star ascending. He leaned forward, his decision made,

“I have acquired many power stones and my plan is, to use our time-travelling abilities to go back in time and wipe other pop stars from existence, so that I am the single biggest pop star in the world today. Then with my influence, The Society will control everything. We, friends, will control the world.”

Alana and Kiran eyeballed each other as the men nodded at Justin.

Kiran interjected,

“There’s no doubt that The Society would benefit from that sort of influence, but what about all of the damage that would be done to culture and humanity without artists?”

Justin looked confused as he stared at her, “But they’d still have me?”

Kiran chewed the statement over before asking, “And who are you going after? Are we talking about Elvis? The Beatles? Frank Sinatra?”

Justin waved a hand as though he’d practiced this very conversation in the mirror a hundred times, “No, no. Only today’s artists. I can’t disrupt anyone who directly or indirectly influenced my career. Butterfly Effect and all.”

The Inner Circle nodded sagely as Justin continued, “And when my plan is complete, who, I ask you, will be the biggest pop star in the world??”

Alana glanced up grimacing, “I don’t know Justin, I mean Lady Gaga is pretty huge? Iconic, even.”

Emilio shook his head, “Right now, Ariana Grande’s the biggest artist in the world, I read it somewhere.”

Justin fixed them both with an affronted stare, “But think about it, if none of them ever existed... Then who would be the biggest pop star in the world?”

Alana and Emilio exchanged a world-weary glance as Justin cackled, “Guess what? It’s gonna be me.”

Rafe scrunched his nose, confused, speaking through a mouthful of ramen, “May? What? Are the Emmy’s not always in September?”

Cash shotshim a withering glance before grinning at Justin, “You’ve thought a lot about his haven’t you?”

Justin, visibly flattered, shrugged off Cash’s praise, “Just a little.”

Cash leaned towards Justin conspiratorially, “So tell us, what more do you need to make your dreams a reality, and how could we, as a group, facilitate that?”

—-

Over the next few weeks the Inner Circle had planned for two consecutive missions. One intricate scheme with Justin, that involved him travelling back over two hundred years to Regency England to secure the Garnet power stone from a Lady Foxworthy. And their own private secondary mission that involved luring Justin back to Regency England where there was no power stone to be found.

When the day to venture back in time arrived, Justin paraded around the tower preening in the mirror at his era-appropriate garb. Kiran had stitched it to perfection, a beautifully embroidered waistcoat over his cravat, fitted cream pants and a midnight blue, velvet long-tailed coat that really made his eyes pop. Rafe let out a low whistle, winking at Justin’s reflection in the mirror, “Looking sharp! Nice work Kiran.” This look was a definitely a step up from double denim!

Kiran moved around Justin turning him, dusting down his shoulders, “Oh hold up, you have a thread. Let me just get that for you. Can’t have you looking less than perfect!” She reached for her scissors and touched the back of his jacket whilst swiftly clipping a tuft of hair from the back of his head.

The corners of Cash’s mouth quirked upwards at her almost imperceptibly as he spoke, “Very elegant, good Sir. You look quite the part.”

Justin gave Cash a delighted twirl to show off his new threads before performing a low, sweeping bow - completely unaware of his missing locks - speaking in a haughty-sounding English accent, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr Tarkhan, I am Lord Timberlake.”

Alana had to swig at a cup of water to stop herself from bursting into peals of laughter, it was like the only English person he’d ever heard speak before was Queen Elizabeth herself! Cash raised an eyebrow in her direction before addressing Justin, “You’re definitely comfortable travelling back alone, because it would only take Alana here a few minutes to change into something suitable and accompany you?”

Justin waved a hand dismissing the suggestion, quite honestly he didn’t want anyone cramping his style. It wasn’t Justin’s first time in Regency England - when he and Richard had travelled there previously he’d had a ball. He had exactly eight hours to get there, get the Garnet, have some fun in a previous era and get back - and then. Then a whole new era would begin. His era... Leader of the most powerful Society in the world and the biggest pop star in history. Justin grinned as he stepped forward, placing his hands around the ornate pocket watch and beginning the arcane chant to begin his voyage through time. The rest of the Inner Circle joined the chant, turning back the clocks within the tower as Justin’s world started to blur at the edges, drifting backwards through two hundred years of history.

After Justin was gone, a series of stealthy grins were exchanged around the group. Emilio breathed a sigh of relief, “We did it.”

Kiran tossed the little velvet bag with Justin’s hair inside to Cash - their insurance policy, should he need to be dealt with ‘more permanently’ at a later date. Today’s plan didn’t involve the singer being turned into a surprised-looking statue, just giving him an extended stay in Regency England instead... The garnet wasn’t there - in fact, there were no stones left there. It was common knowledge within the Inner Circle where the garnet was: firmly on the finger of Richard’s blissfully unaware and estranged daughter - passed down by his long-missing wife. A point that Timberlake was sadly remiss of: they all had banked on Richard never disclosing a topic so sore as his failure as a father out of pure pride and vanity - and they’d been correct...

Now there was nothing more to do than wind all the clocks back to the correct time, then sit and wait until Justin would try to get back.

—-

Seven and three-quarter hours later, the group within the tower saw a blurry portal loom in the corner of the room. Suddenly alert, they listened intently as Justin’s voice crackled through,

“Rafe, Cash, guys! Are you there? Help me! I can’t... I can’t get back! Alana?? The ritual, it’s not working, I’m not fading back through??”

Cash drawled as he examined his fingernails, looking thoroughly bored,

“Ah, so our little ritual worked then. Good to know.”

The passage through time became narrower and narrow as a sickening realisation suckerpunched Justin, panic rising like bile in his throat, “You... You did this on purpose!! You screwed me over!! You bastards!!!!”

As the portal flickered and shrunk to no more than a pinhole, echoes of the roars of their names reverberated around the room, until the gap sealed itself trapping Lord Timberlake in Regency England for ever more. Silence settled over the tower for a few moments, until Rafe glanced up at the rest of the group thorough his sweeping fringe, a smirk slowly stretching from ear to ear as he shrugs,

“Cry me a river...”

[noona-clock]

Traveling Love (Collab) - Part 2

Genre: Fluffy/Romantic AU

Pairing: Nam Joo Hyuk x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, Masterlist | Words: 2,230

A/N: Welcome to the third series in the monthly Love In Fours Ways collab with myself, @jackiejacks923​ @prettywordsyouleft​ & @this-song-thats-only-for-you​ . We have all taken inspiration from 4 illustrations (linked below), and during the last week of the month, we will each be sharing a 4-part mini-series based on those drawings.

Credit to: Puuung - Love Is In The Small Things

Part 2: Taking Photos of Each Other When Traveling to New Places

Joo Hyuk let out a soft groan as he flopped back onto the pristinely-made bed in the hotel room.

“Why is traveling so exhausting?” he murmured as he stared up at the ceiling before briefly closing his eyes.

Once you’d stepped out of your shoes, you gently crawled onto the bed and fit yourself right next to him. “I don’t know,” you sighed. You nestled into his side, resting your head on his shoulder as he put his arm around you and lazily rubbed your upper arm. “You’re just sitting the whole time, no matter if you’re driving on flying. ...Why is it so exhausting?”

After a little over a month of planning, the vacation you’d talked about sitting out on the balcony all those weeks ago had finally arrived. You’d spent more hours than you’d care to admit researching, mapping, booking, scheduling, and now here you were. You’d found the perfect little city next to a small sea with plenty to do and eat, but also plenty of ways to just relax.

Joo Hyuk let out a soft but contented sigh before pushing himself up onto his side and moving his arm out from under you to rest his head in his hand. “This is a nice place,” he stated as he looked around the room. “Good job. I’m very impressed.”

“Thank you,” you beamed, gazing up at him adoringly. “You told me to make this a treat, and I did.”

A tiny grin tugged at Joo Hyuk’s lips, and he lifted his other hand to reach out and tap you gently on the nose. “I knew I could trust you.”

“Of course you can! You know I love to plan things.”

“Exactly,” he nodded. “And you’re very thoughtful.”

“Well,” you murmured as your cheeks flushed a bit. “I try to be, at least.”

But you wouldn’t lie and say that you didn’t feel some sense of achievement at having planned this vacation -- and, so far, everything was going swimmingly, if you did say so yourself.

“What’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?” your boyfriend asked as he gazed down at you warmly. “It’s barely past lunchtime, we’ve got the whole afternoon and evening ahead of us.”

His question made you sit up, your eyes widening a little with excitement. “We have a reservation as this pizza place tonight -- all the reviews I saw said it’s the best pizza in the city. But before that, I figured we would just do some sightseeing, take some pictures, see if anything jumps out at us that we want to do in the next few days. Y’know -- classic tourist exploring.”

Joo Hyuk chuckled a little -- probably because of how weirdly excited you were to tell him the plans -- but he sat right up with you and nodded with determination.

“All right, then,” he said. “Let’s get to it.”

Even though the both of you had just been worn out from traveling all morning, you suddenly felt a burst of energy hit you. You sprang from the bed and headed to your suitcase to unpack.

After both you and Joo Hyuk had changed out of your traveling clothes and grabbed your cameras, the two of you headed out of the hotel and out into the streets of the city.

There was a slight chill in the air, making you relieved you’d put on your favorite green trench coat before leaving the room.

“Where to?” Joo Hyuk asked as he slipped his hand into yours.

You hummed thoughtfully, scrunching up your eyebrows and turning first to the left and then to the right. And since there really wasn’t anything to sway you one way or the other, you simply picked at random.

“This way,” you decided, lifting your free hand to point to the left of the hotel, down the relatively quiet street.

For the next few hours, you and Joo Hyuk roamed the city, barely even getting out your phones to look at maps or search something you wanted to learn more about. There was plenty of time for that during the rest of your trip; right now, you wanted to simply explore. The harmless threat of getting lost was actually kind of exciting because you knew a taxi was just a click away, so why worry? Normally, you did worry about it, but... not right now. Not today.

Today was just for fun.

Since both of you had brought your cameras with you, you spent a lot of time taking pictures -- mostly of the scenery and the awe-inspiring architecture around the city. You also snapped photos of any and all stray or wild animals you saw, so you most likely had about fifteen pictures of just squirrels in your camera roll so far.

Just as you realized the sun was incredibly low in the sky, nearing sunset, Joo Hyuk stopped walking.

“Here, let’s go on that bridge,” he murmured, nodding up toward a pedestrian bridge overlooking the streets below.

You quickly took out your phone to check the time, letting out a soft sigh of relief when you saw it still wasn’t quite time for your dinner reservation yet. In fact, there was absolutely enough time to visit the bridge, so you agreed and followed your boyfriend up there.

“Oh, wow,” you breathed when you stepped onto the wooden planks, your eyes scanning the view in front of and below you. “It’s beautiful.”

The lowering sun was casting the most beautiful golden light out over the city, the top of the sky starting to darken just a hint -- if you looked hard enough, you could see a few stars peeking through.

“And it’s golden hour,” Joo Hyuk added as he lifted his camera up.

“Is it?” you asked, lifting your brows as you turned your head to look at him. “I’ve always been curious what time golden hour was.”

“It’s just whenever the sun makes everything look...” Joo Hyuk smirked a little and gestured around the two of you. “Look like this.”

“Well, then,” you stated, lifting up your camera. “I should take advantage of it.”

No matter how vehemently Joo Hyuk protested it, he absolutely looked like a male model in every single picture he took, no matter if it was a selfie or a picture taken by someone else. He just had no bad angles, and even if the lighting was the opposite of golden hour, he somehow managed to look like he’d stepped straight out of a magazine.

So, were you going to pass up the opportunity to take a picture of your devastatingly handsome boyfriend in what was widely known as the best photography lighting?

No. Absolutely not.

But just after pressing the viewfinder to your eye and hovering your index finger over the button, Joo Hyuk also lifted up his camera.

“Wait, no,” you chuckled, though you still kept your own camera up in front of your face. “I wanted to take a picture of you.”

“But I want to take one of you, too!”

You laughed softly to yourself before going ahead and snapping the picture. You knew that, even with a camera blocking over half of his face, he would still look stunning.

Of course, you did make him put his camera down so you could take other pictures, and while he seemed a bit shy about it, he still posed against the railing of the bridge. But then he made you do the same for him -- and, to be truthful, that was basically the perfect description of your relationship.

Things had always been so equal between the two of you.

You never, ever felt like you gave more than you got, and you also never felt like you got more than you gave. Joo Hyuk wasn’t the most affectionate or emotionally expressive person, but that didn’t mean he ever made you feel unloved. He always showed you in other ways -- more subtle ways, mind you -- but for some reason, it had been incredibly easy for you to learn the language he used to express his feelings for you.

Even from the very beginning, things with Joo Hyuk had been so...

Easy.

You’d never worried about if he’d liked you or not, because you could just tell that he had. You’d never actually verbally established your labels as boyfriend and girlfriend because it had just happened. And you’d realized you were in love with him before you even knew you were starting to fall for him.

The two of you had only been together for a couple of years now, but it felt like forever.

Joo Hyuk had just taken a picture of you as you were looking out over the bridge and pushing your hair back with your fingers (a classic ‘this is a totally casual, candid, absolutely not posed picture’ pose), but instead of keeping his camera up and murmuring another suggestion for a pose, he gently set the camera down, letting it hang taut on its strap. He then slid the strap around his shoulder so the camera was behind him and walked the short distance over to you.

You figured he was coming over to tame a stray lock of hair which had been pushed out of place during the last picture, but instead, he simply stood behind you, circled his arms around you, and pulled you back to his chest.

“Hey,” you greeted with a soft chuckle.

He replied to you by placing a few kisses on your temple and ear, and even though they were very chaste, quick kisses, they still made your cheeks flush.

The two of you stood there for a few moments, Joo Hyuk moving his arms to grasp the railing in front of you while you continued to lean against his chest.

And then, in an incredibly quiet voice, your boyfriend murmured, “This is going to be... so cheesy, but --”

You held your breath, truly not able to anticipate what he might be about to say. You couldn’t remember a time over the last couple of years when Joo Hyuk had ever admitted to saying something cheesy.

“I...” he continued, his words so soft they were almost carried off by the small breeze in the air. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now. I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else, and I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else. Just -- taking pictures with you on this bridge... I don’t know, it’s just -- it’s perfect.”

Of course, his so-called cheesy words made your lips split into a wide, beaming grin, and while you desperately wanted to turn around and face him, you knew he was too shy for that right now.

So, you simply turned your head and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“I think so, too,” you whispered.

You felt Joo Hyuk’s cheek move as he smiled, and then he said, “Thank you for this. I don’t know if I’ve actually thanked you for planning everything, and if I haven’t, I’m sorry because you deserve --”

You couldn’t stop yourself. You turned around in his arms to face him, standing on your toes and capturing his lips in a brief kiss.

“I deserve,” you said after pulling away. “To be with you right here, right now. That’s all. And you’re the one who found this bridge, so I can’t take all the credit.”

The look on your boyfriend’s face made it clear that he was about to refute you, so you continued on before he got the chance.

“I did all the planning before we left, yes -- but all the planning in the world doesn’t guarantee a perfect vacation. Or even a nice one. Now that we’re actually here, that job belongs to both of us. So, if this turns out to be the wonderful, amazing trip that I think it will, it’s not all because of me.”

Joo Hyuk looked into your eyes, his gaze a combination of adoration and admiration. “You’re right,” he said with a small nod.

You were just about to reply to his statement with a very smug “As usual” but to your slight surprise, Joo Hyuk beat you to it.

“As usual,” he smirked.

“Y’know, I think we need to document this moment,” you grinned. “And not just because you said I’m right.”

Joo Hyuk playfully rolled his eyes, but he still shuffled around so his back was against the railing and the two of you were facing away from the view.

You held up your camera, though your boyfriend took it from you without a word -- the guy was tall and had much longer arms than you, better for taking selfies -- and pressed his cheek to your temple.

You smiled brightly, and when you heard the shutter go off, you murmured that he should take one more. And then you turned your head, placing your lips on his cheek as you brought one hand up to cradle his other cheek.

As soon as he took the picture, you knew that one would be going on the bookshelf in your living room at home. You absolutely wanted to remember this moment -- this whole evening, actually -- for the rest of your life, and that picture would be the perfect one to document it.

Part 3

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Coming Home

Dean x Reader

Word Count: 4980

Warnings: Smut. Relatively vanilla, but decidedly explicit. 

A/N: For @impala-dreamer​ and the “Make Me Feel It” challenge. My prompt was “The Story,” by Brandi Carlile. To me, that song feels like letting your guard down and trusting someone to see you at your worst. 

Major thanks to @fangirlxwritesx67​ and @stunudo​ for the read-throughs and suggestions, and to @justcallmeasmodeus​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​ and @cracksinthewalls​ for listening to me grumble about this monster all day. 

October, 2006

Dean can’t sleep, and what-fucking-else is new? Not like he was Sleeping Beauty to begin with, but it’s harder since Dad died. He tosses and turns on the lumpy motel mattress, listening to Sammy’s snores. His muscles ache and his eyes itch and he can’t stop clenching his jaw. It’s been a couple days since he’s managed more than a catnap at a rest stop. 

If he pauses for too long, if he lets himself rest, the grief catches up and chokes him. Dean’s fine, or he will be. He just has to keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

He gives up around 4am, leaves Sammy a note and trudges down the block to the all-night diner. 

Left foot, right foot. Don’t look back. Don’t stop. 

All the diners are starting to look alike. On good days, the familiarity is comforting. Today it just feels surreal, like he keeps driving and driving and never really gets anywhere, and the grey fluorescent lights make his vision skip and skitter strangely. 

There’s one other guy at a table in the corner, a trucker nursing a cup of coffee; otherwise it’s empty apart from the waitress wiping down glasses at the other end of the counter. He blinks away the disorientation and sits down heavily on one of the cracked vinyl stools.  

She sets down her rag and comes over, smiling, and it cuts through the grey and the cold and warms him from the inside. 

He orders a coffee and a slice of pie, and he starts eating without really tasting anything. He feels fucking cold, like he brought October into the diner with him. 

He watches the waitress tidying up, rolling silverware, cleaning the counter… Dean catches himself staring at her hips, the way she shifts her weight as she stands. 

Maybe it’s the way she moves that’s got him distracted, maybe it’s just sleeplessness making his vision blur, but one way or another he misses his mouth entirely when he goes to take a sip of coffee. Blistering-hot liquid sloshes over his hand, and he promptly drops the mug. It shatters at his feet. 

He looks down numbly at the splintered pieces as the puddle begins to spread. She’s there with a towel before he can really register what happened. 

“Jesus,” Dean spits, finally snapping back into his body. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

She just gives him a little half-smile and shrugs, and Dean slides off the stool to get out of her way. He tiptoes gingerly around the mess and grabs a handful of napkins to get the worst of the coffee off his lap. His cheeks are burning with embarrassment. 

When she’s done, Dean perches back on his stool to shovel down the last few bites, ready to get the hell of her way, but she sets a fresh cup in front of him.

“Thanks,” he says automatically. 

She quirks her lips in a tiny smile, and fuck, she’s cute. Dean tries to muster up his most charming grin, but it feels stiff and twisted on his face. 

“Long day?” she asks softly. She’s watching him with her head tilted to the side like she actually wants to hear about it. 

“I’m fine,” he replies. Smile, shrug, don’t think. 

She looks tired, too. She’s got dark circles under her eyes to match Dean’s, but there’s something sweet and open in her expression that makes him feel comfortable, somehow. Something about her is warm, and Dean’s first instinct is to hold out his hands like he’s thawing them over a fire. 

Her smile isn’t pitying, just empathetic, a sort of bone-weary been there, done that look. 

“My dad died,” Dean blurts out. 

He wasn’t planning on telling her that. It’s the first time he’s said the words quite so bluntly, let alone to a stranger. He’s not that guy, he doesn’t go around dumping his problems on other people, but… he looks up, meets her eyes. His chest hurts. 

“I’m fine,” he insists. 

Fine. Smile, shrug, don’t think. You’re fine. 

Dean heaves in a breath. His ribs are being squeezed by some cold iron grip, and his throat is tight. 

She reaches out across the counter and puts her hand over his, and she gives it a tiny, gentle squeeze. 

“You will be,” she offers. 

He’s not that guy, he’s just not, and the ache in his chest is this massive unbearable thing that’s about to split him open, and the longer she looks at him with that warmth, the harder it gets to hold himself together. And he needs to hold himself together. If he lets go, even just a little, he’s going to fucking drown. 

Dean yanks his hand back like he’s been burned. 

“Sorry,” she says. Her eyes look sad, but she’s giving him a tiny smile, like she understands. 

“I gotta -” he chokes out, and he stumbles as he gets off the stool. He throws some bills on the table without really looking, and he turns to go. 

Left foot, right foot. 

He doesn’t look back. 

***

March, 2008

“Fuck, Dean, just take this exit,” Sam says. He’s got that bite in his voice again. 

“I’m fine,” Dean says. He burps and puts the cap back on the flask one-handed. He gets in the right lane, though. Time for food. 

Signal. Turn. Brake. 

Time’s passing strangely. He blinks and there’s another day gone. He hasn’t got that many days left. If he closes his eyes for long they’ll disappear. 

He pulls into the parking lot of an all-night diner. Sammy jumps out and slams the door before Dean can even cut the engine, like a petulant fuckin’ kid. 

Dean shivers, goosebumps running down his neck. He takes one quick slug from the flask, then another, trying to shake off the chills, before he follows Sam inside. 

He hasn’t been sleeping. Better ways to spend his last weeks. He’s crystal-clear, though. He’s fine. Everything is bright and sharp and hard-edged around him. The whiskey just warms him up a little. 

“Ordered you a burger,” Sam mumbles, when Dean sits down next to him. “To go, so we can get to a fucking motel.” 

“Told you, Sammy, I’m fine,” Dean says breezily, and asks the waitress as she passes, “Could I get a coffee, when you get a sec?” 

He ignores Sam’s glare. 

The waitress comes over, and Dean gets a quick impression of a soft smile and curious eyes as she passes him a steaming mug. He takes a greedy sip and burns his tongue. 

“Hot coffee,” he says hastily, setting the mug down to blow on it, and then he delivers the line with an almost automatic grin. “You know what else is hot?” 

“Come on,” Sam mutters.

Dean finishes with a wink: “You.” 

“You’re not gonna spill on me again, are you?” she smirks. 

He looks up at her, really looks. Something about her smile says come inside, stay a while, like stepping in from the cold to the golden flicker of firelight.

“I remember you,” she says. “You were having a rough night.” 

“Oh,” Dean says. “Oh.” 

He stares as she introduces herself. It feels so far away, now. Feels like he’s lived a few lifetimes since then, but he hasn’t, not really; he won’t even have a chance to live this lifetime. 

He shudders and wishes he’d brought his flask inside. 

“Sorry,” she says, “Not a good memory to look back at, I guess.” 

He shakes his head. 

“No, I’m fine, just… took me a second,” he says, and recovers, pasting on a bright smile. “Don’t know how I could forget such a pretty face.” 

Sam makes an exasperated noise next to him. 

“Smooth,” she says dryly. “What’s your name, butterfingers?” 

“Dean.” 

“Well, Dean, if you make a mess again because you’re too busy flirting to remember where your mouth is, you can clean it up yourself this time. Okay?” 

The words are light and teasing, but her smile looks like an apology, like she knows all too well how hard it is to look back sometimes. 

“How ‘bout you let me make it up to you?” Dean offers. “Let me buy you a drink when you’re done here.” 

She’s eyeing him up and down, and Dean flashes his most winning smile, even though he has a sudden inexplicable urge to hide his face. There’s a bell from the kitchen window and she turns without answering. Dean’s pretty sure he just struck out, and he’s more bothered by it than he’d like to admit, but then she’s back. 

“Yeah, okay,” she says casually, handing over a couple takeout containers. “I’ll be done in fifteen.” 

“Fuck’s sake,” Sam grumbles, as he counts out bills. 

“Hey, you get your wish,” Dean says, grinning. “You get to sleep in a bed tonight. Motel’s right up the road, if I’m remembering right.” 

“Yeah. Great.” 

She’s talking to the cook, hands on her hips, and Dean catches a string of profanities. He smiles to himself and shakes his head, trying not to stare. 

“I’ll meet you out front,” he says. She gives him a little wave, and he almost trips over his feet on his way to the door. 

Sam shoulders his bag, jaw set, eyes tired. 

“I can drive you,” Dean offers, guilt slithering through his stomach, but Sam shakes his head. 

“I’ll walk. I can see the sign from here.”  

“I just - I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.” 

“Yeah. I won’t wait up.” 

Sam turns to go, and Dean feels panicked, for a second. He’s going to blink and lose another day. He’s spent too many days sniping and snapping and being a shitty fucking brother. 

“Sammy,” he says, and Sam looks back, tight-lipped. “Thanks.” 

Sam’s expression falters, the bitter mask falling away and leaving sadness in its place. 

“It’s okay, Dean, I get it,” he says, so quietly it’s almost lost to the wind. 

Dean doesn’t watch him go. He gets in the car and fishes his flask out of the glove compartment. Then he leans against the hood of the car and eats his burger.

Chew, swallow. Don’t think about it. 

He sees her through the window, coming out from behind the counter. Dean sets the takeout container on the hood and gets to the front door just in time to open it for her. 

“So, where to?” he asks. 

“Not sure,” she says softly, looking down at her feet and fidgeting with the strap of her purse. 

“You okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

Dean snorts. “I’ve told that one a few times myself.” 

She rolls her eyes and laughs, sheepish. “Yeah, okay. I… I don’t usually do this.” 

“Hey, no pressure,” Dean says. He holds his hands up and takes a step back. “If you say the word I’ll leave right now, no harm done. Okay?” 

She’s evaluating him, and it feels like an x-ray, the way she stares. He can see the moment she makes a decision. 

“I’ve got drinks back at my place,” she says, and adds sharply, “I’ve also got mace, so… don’t get any ideas.” 

It’s oddly endearing, for a threat. 

Her place is a tiny, cluttered studio apartment in a not-great part of town. When she opens the fridge, he sees a mess of takeout containers and bottles. 

“Beer, tequila, whiskey…” 

“Whiskey’s good.” 

He looks around and realizes there’s nowhere to sit. There’s a single stool at the kitchen table, and an armchair in front of the coffee table; the only place big enough for two people is the bed. He looks at her, and she’s blushing, like she just had the same realization. 

“Shit, sorry, this is weird,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I don’t - I’m in a really fucking strange place in my life. Everything is… temporary, I guess.” 

“You and me both,” Dean mutters. He sits down on the floor, in front of the coffee table. She gives him a grateful little half-smile and hands him a glass. 

“Tell me about it?” She settles on the floor too, cross-legged, rolling her glass between her palms like someone who’s very used to holding a drink. 

They skip all the small talk, the flirtation and the easy questions, and they dive right into the things that Dean fucking hates talking about. Somehow he doesn’t mind. 

This was supposed to be a simple pickup, one fun night, a distraction, and instead he’s sitting on this chick’s floor asking about her childhood, finding that he actually cares about the answers… this isn’t like any one-night stand he’s ever had. It’s so much more intimate than that. 

The rules are different, with her. He doesn’t have to pretend to be fine. She doesn’t seem to pity him, when he talks about some of the fucked-up things in his life. She just accepts it. She accepts him. 

He’s not sure how long it’s been, when he finishes his third drink, but he’s starting to go hoarse. She doesn’t ask if he wants another, just takes the empty glass out of his hand. Her knee pops audibly when she gets up, and they both laugh. 

“I’m too old to be sitting on the floor, I think,” she says, heading to the fridge. “If I say we should relocate to the bed, are you going to take it as a come-on?” 

He smiles up at her, exhaustion and whiskey making his vision blurry around the edges. “Only if you want me to.” 

“Jury’s still out.” She looks down, cheeks flushed like that’s not entirely true. “But I think for the sake of my fuckin’ kneecaps… make yourself comfortable.” 

He does. He sits back against the pillows, sinking into them. She comes over and passes him a drink, and he looks up at her, feeling oddly vulnerable stretched out on her bed like this. 

“Be right back,” she whispers, and sets her own glass on the nightstand before she heads for the bathroom. 

Dean closes his eyes, thinking, just for a second. 

He wakes all at once. There’s bright gold sunlight streaming through the windows and a quilt on top of him. She’s curled into his chest, nose brushing his collarbone where his henley is unbuttoned. His hand is resting on the curve of her waist, tucked under her thin shirt. She’s just starting to stir; she shifts, settles closer, and he feels her lips on his throat. 

Dean can’t remember the last time he felt this rested, or this warm. 

He can’t remember the last time he wanted to stay somewhere. He wants to stay right here in this moment, taking in the tickle of her breath on his neck, the cheap pillowcase under his cheek, the sound of a siren in the distance. 

She pulls back slowly, sleepy-eyed. Then she smiles. It feels like coming home. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he remembers who he is. He remembers that this isn’t his life. 

He digs the phone out of his phone and snaps it open long enough to growl, “Be there soon.” 

She’s still smiling, but her eyes are sad. Dean wants to stay, more than he’s wanted anything in a long time, and that’s why he makes himself pull away. If he lets himself have this, even for a morning… if this was his life? He’s not sure he could let himself be dragged away from it, hellhounds or no. 

She takes the phone out of his hand and enters her number, “Just in case you’re ever passing through.” 

“I doubt it’ll happen,” he says roughly. “But… if I’m passing through.” 

Stand up. Deep breath. 

He feels cold, the warmth leaching from his bones already. 

This isn’t your home. 

He doesn’t have a home. Now he never will. 

She walks him to the door and he hugs her, barely feeling it, barely noticing the feather-light kiss she presses to his cheek. 

“You okay?” she asks. 

“I’m fine,” he says, and he turns to go. 

Right foot, left foot. Don’t look back. 

***

October 2008

If Dean doesn’t get out of this fucking motel, he might lose his fucking mind. 

He paces the bathroom, back and forth, feeling brittle and edgy and hollowed-out. One more nightmare, one more argument, and he might snap. He’s sick of Sammy’s fucking face, and looking at his own in the mirror is even worse. 

He sees hell whenever he closes his eyes. 

He dials her number before he can talk himself out of it, and she picks up on the second ring. 

“Hey,” he says hoarsely. “I don’t - I mean, I ended up coming through after all. I don’t know if you remember me, but… this is Dean.” 

“I remember you,” she says. He can hear the warmth in her voice, even through the static. 

She texts him the address: new place, same town. He tells Sam not to wait up. 

He’s not sure why he’s nervous. He’s not sure what it is about her, but there’s something about this chick that he can’t shake. The important thing is that it’ll be fun. It’ll get his mind off things for a night. He rolls down the window and turns the music up. 

Don’t think about it. 

When she opens the door, Dean’s heart jumps crazily in his chest. 

“So, do you want to go out, or...” Dean starts, as she closes the door behind him. 

“Can we just pick up where we left off?” she asks, breathless. 

Dean can smell the fresh, sweet scent of her hair. He feels dizzy, hot and cold all over, and when he leans in to kiss her it feels like falling.  It’s deep, syrupy-slow, her mouth opening easily under his, intimate and familiar. 

She lets out a barely-there whimper, deep in her throat. 

“Bed,” he chokes out. He’s not sure he’ll make it that far. 

He grabs her again, stumbling, as they practically fall through the bedroom door, and she whirls around to face him with this fiery, blazing look that makes him forget how to fucking walk. Her back hits the wall and he crashes into her. She slips her hands under his shirt and drags her nails down his lower back, and Dean gasps, grinding into her helplessly. 

“Please,” he pants. He kisses her neck, bites her jaw, whispers it again: “Please.” 

She yanks at the hem of his shirt. He almost rips her tank top. She shoves, sends him stumbling backward, and reaches back to unclasp her bra, letting it fall unceremoniously. Dean takes a step backward, still staring, so the edge of the bed against the back of his knees takes him by surprise. He sits down hard and scrambles back.

She pauses at the foot of the bed, letting him look. He rakes his eyes over smooth curves, speechless, as she unbuttons her jeans and shimmies them down her hips, and she crawls up the bed in nothing but plain black panties. 

She straddles him, pushing at his shoulders until he falls back against the mattress. He runs his hands over her, up her sides, trying to memorize the lush pillowy swells and dips of her, the velvety feel of her skin. Her mouth is hungry on his. 

She’s moving, slow and snakelike, rolling her torso so that he can feel the slight drag of her hard nipples up his chest, then twisting her hips, rubbing herself against him. It’s almost too much even through his jeans, all this hot rough friction. He grips her hips and rocks up against her, and she lets out a tortured little whine as she breaks away from the kiss. 

She gets Dean’s zipper down, tugs, and he lifts his hips obligingly so that she can get his pants off. He kicks at them awkwardly, making a face, and she giggles; it’s a nervous giggle, and it dies in her throat when he rolls on top of her. He pauses with his hands braced on either side of her head, and she stares up at him, cheeks flushed. 

“What do you -” he starts, and before he can finish the question, she reaches up and brushes the pad of her thumb over the curve of his lower lip. He flicks his tongue over it and watches her eyelids flutter. He ducks his head to kiss the hollow of her throat, then her collarbone. 

“Thought about this,” she says. “I was kicking myself, after. For being too scared to make a move, for -” 

She gasps when he slips his hand down the front of her panties, dragging two fingers down through silky-slick heat, running them up again, teasing before he pulls the thin fabric down. 

“I was wondering,” he confesses. He hooks his hands under her thighs and holds her in place, and she shudders at the first brush of his tongue. 

“I don’t do that - don’t invite strangers over,” she pants. “I don’t trust people, but you - fuck, do that again.” 

“Taste so good,” he mumbles. It’s barely audible, the way his face is buried between her legs. She squirms, thighs shaking as he gets his lips around her clit. 

The words are rushed, high-pitched, spilling out along with tiny gasps and sharp inhales: “Thought about your mouth, fuck. Thought about this. It was - you do a thing, with your tongue, and - right there, oh, fuck, just - you kept licking your lips, and... Dean. Dean.” 

He sneaks a glance up at her. She’s arching her back, fingers twisting in the sheets, saying his name over and over in this broken, reverent voice. Dean feels raw and strange, like he’s the one spread-open and vulnerable here. He squeezes his eyes shut, tries not to think about it. 

She practically convulses when he slips two fingers into her, but he’s holding her down with his other hand. He works her with his fingers and sucks in quick little pulses, lost in the way she tastes. She grabs his hair, pulling him down against her, gripping so hard it stings his scalp, and it’s so fucking hot he feels like he could come just from this: her taste on his tongue, her fingers in his hair, her ragged voice as she says his name one more time. She shakes and shudders as she comes. 

“Gorgeous,” he can’t help but whisper, pressing a kiss to one of the stretch marks that show like pale tiger stripes on her thighs. The scar tissue doesn’t taste any different than the rest of her skin, but he kisses another to be sure, then drags his mouth up, nipping at the soft skin under her belly-button, licking a drop of sweat from the valley between her breasts. 

She’s panting, cheeks stained pink and sheened with sweat, looking up at him with glittering unfocused eyes, and the clench of pure fucking desire in his gut hits him like a freight train. The first slick press of his cock is almost too much. He closes his eyes and sinks in slow, feeling the give where her body opens up and lets him in. Her breath hitches in her chest when he grinds down, as deep inside as he can be. 

One of them is shaking, and Dean thinks it might be him. 

He kisses the underside of her jaw, mouthing at the soft salty skin there, and rolls his hips, and the wet-hot surge of friction is so fucking good. Part of him wants to move, snap forward and give in, fuck into her hard enough to obliterate the swelling sensation in his ribcage. Part of him wants this to last forever. 

He’s present in his skin in a way he hasn’t been in ages, frantic with all the input from his senses, lit up and fizzing with it. The strangled cry that rips from his throat sounds foreign, like an animal, like something wild… she digs her fingers into the muscles of his shoulders, tilts her hips up, and he’s so close to the edge of his control already. 

The physical details of it, the actual act, that’s nothing new. It’s this feeling in his chest. It’s the way he feels like he’s about to shatter. 

“There,” she groans. He opens his eyes enough to see her, and his vision is blurring, images of her coming through like shots from an unfocused camera: lips parting around his name, eyes rolling back in her head when he hits the right spot, sweat trickling down her temple to soak tendrils of hair. 

Dean’s so fucking close, so fucking hard, it’s like his entire universe is narrowing down to the throb of blood pulsing in his cock, the way she’s clamping down around him as she grinds up to meet every thrust, writhing under him, pulling him close, her fingernails fiery points of pain at the small of his back. 

This is so much more than he expected. He can’t breathe.

She lets out a gasp and a sweet little sob, arching up, and he can feel her all around him, soaking wet and searing hot, so good it blinds him. His hips jerk forward one last time, as if he could possibly get any closer to her. He gives in and lets himself go under. 

The tension bleeds from his muscles, leaves him wrung-out and quiet. He keeps rocking into her, soft shivers of pleasure rippling through them both, as she reaches up and cups his face between her hands, tugging him down for a kiss. He rests his forehead against hers for a moment, close enough that their breath mingles in the damp thick air between them. He kisses the tip of her nose, then her eyelids. He moves back to pull out. 

“Don’t go anywhere,” she whispers. “Stay.” 

“Can I go like six inches to either side?” Dean asks, and she makes a face, giggling, as they shift over together, trying to move without putting any real space between their bodies. 

Dean settles in between her sprawled legs, resting his head on her chest. Her heartbeat is slowing, gradually. He focuses on the sound of it, the feel of her ribs rising and falling under his cheek as she breathes, and she runs her fingers through the short damp hair at the nape of his neck. 

He wants to stay right here, just like this. 

He could pretend, for one night. He could pretend to be someone else, someone who gets what they want. 

“If I fall asleep, wake me up in half an hour,” she says dreamily. “Let’s do that again.” 

He can feel the waves closing in over his head. 

Her fingers slow and then stop. Her heartbeat goes low and even. 

When he’s sure she’s asleep, Dean shifts, doing his best not to disturb her. She doesn’t stir. He gathers his clothes and gets dressed silently. 

She looks so peaceful: hair tangled, skin glowing, lips curled up in a smile. She looks warm. Dean’s chest aches. He sneaks one last glance at her before switching off the light and turning to go. 

He doesn’t look back. 

***

February 2010

Dean waits for a moment, staring up at the dark sky, but there’s no answer. He wasn’t really expecting one. 

Deep breath. Drink. Swallow. 

He wipes away the tears, steeling himself to go back inside and pretend that nothing’s wrong. 

The wheezy voice echoes in his ears: going through the motions. 

Deep, dark… nothing. 

He wants to deny it, is the thing. He wants to deny it, but he can’t, even to himself, even to the quiet nighttime sky. But that dark nothing is easier than letting himself feel. When he slows down, when he rests, when he allows himself to feel anything, it all crashes over him, swamps him, fills his lungs and makes him choke. 

Inside, you’re already dead. 

When was the last time he felt alive? 

He sees her clearly: head thrown back on the pillow, lips parted, saying his name like a prayer. If he lets himself remember, he feels a ghost of her warmth and a swelling, fluttering fullness in his chest. 

Something inside him snaps. 

He practically runs to Baby, flings himself blindly into the driver’s seat, starts the engine with trembling fingers. He hits the gas and the tires squeal. 

The cold air slaps against his face, and his heart pounds, and he almost turns around five times before he hits the right exit. It’s not hard to find her place again, but it doesn’t occur to him until he’s knocking that she might’ve moved. She might not be home. She might have a fucking boyfriend who’s going to punch him in the face. 

She opens the door. 

He can see hurt and shock and something bright (hope?) flickering across her face, and then she looks him up and down. 

“Dean,” she says softly. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m -” 

“If you say ‘fine’ right now I’ll punch you in the mouth,” she says matter-of-factly. There’s no judgement in her eyes, just familiar wide-open warmth. “It’s three in the morning. You snuck out, like a fucking asshole, and then I didn’t hear from you in over a fucking year. So. Are you okay, Dean?” 

He has to force the words out; it feels like they’re scorching his throat. 

“No. I’m not.” 

He sways on his feet and sags against the doorframe. It’s pulling him under, one wave after another. 

She wraps her arms around him and squeezes, holding him close, right there in the doorway. He runs his hands up her back and buries his face in her hair, taking deep heaving breaths that burn his lungs. It’s all he can do to keep his head above water. 

She presses her lips to his pulse and whispers against his skin: “Come inside, Dean. Stay a while.” 

She pulls the door closed behind him as he takes one shaky step, then another. 

He doesn’t look back. 

.

.

.

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[i-dream-of-twilight-sparkle]

Chapter 30: A Pear-fect Reunion

After the deeply bittersweet, but ultimately happy reunion between Starlight and her mother, as well as Sunburst’s father returning to Sire’s Hollow for good. The Elements of Harmony and the Cutie Mark Crusaders go back to Sweet Apple Acres to see how Big Mac, Sugar Belle, and Granny Smith are doing with with Pear Butter & Bright Mac. Twilight actually gives Celestia her own pack of gum so perhaps she can get back to Saddle Arabia herself as she still plans on attending the wedding. Trixie went back to her wagon to rest for a while.

Some of the group heading back to the farm is still reeling from the emotional scenes of the family reunion in Sire’s Hollow.

Rarity: *sniff* That reunion Starlight and Sunburst had was so beautiful, yet so sad, but also satisfying, and yet also so heartbreaking…

Twilight: That was certainly a mix of emotions wasn’t it? But I think ultimately we can be very happy for Starlight to have gotten to see her mother again.

Applejack: Yeah, Starlight’s past regarding her mother is more tragic than fo’ mah own parents. But now at least we both get t’ see them every now and then thanks t’ Spike’s Dragon Tear. This thing is certainly going t’ be ah life changer fo’ ah lot o’ ponies

Apple Bloom: Sure is! But let’s go see how Granny’s doin’!

Once they all get to the house they actually see Sugar Belle, Big Mac, Granny Smith are outside with Pear Butter and Bright Mac’s spirit while the Cake family seems to have probably returned home since then. Sugar Belle is the first to notice the return of the Elements and the CMC.

Sugar Belle: Welcome back! How did things turn out with Starlight and her mother?

Twilight: It’d be a looooooong story trying to explain everything that went on… we can get to that soon. But how have all of you been?

Granny Smith: Oooooooh! One o’ the best days o’ mah long life fo’ certain! Why didn’t ya’ll wake me up t’ see Pear Butter and Bright Mac come down in the first place?

Twilight: I guess it slipped my mind, sorry Granny Smith.

Granny: Heh, it’s ok. Admittedly, when ah was first woken up the first thing ah saw was Pear Butter and Bright Mac’s ghosts. Ah initially freaked, cause ah thought ah had kicked the bucket myself in mah sleep! Ah’m at that age after all!

Big Mac: Heh heh, it did take ah little while fo’ us t’ convince Granny that she wasn’t dead nor was this ah dream!

Granny: But once ah calmed down, it was sooooo good t’ see mah big son and his lovely wife again!

Sugar Belle: Me and Pear Butter talked a good while being the non-Apples that married into the family.

Pear Butter: Being a pear farmer as opposed to a pastry-baker is a bit different. But we nonetheless both fell in love with two large apple farming stallions. That alone is enough to make a nice bond with my new daughter-in-law. But she’s also as sweet personality-wise as the sugar in the pastries she must make. It’s just too bad we spirits can’t eat, mostly because we don’t need to any more. But at least we’re in a state where we always feel contently full, otherwise it’d be kind of unbearable.

Pinkie: Spirits no longer get to eat?! That sounds awful!

Pear Butter: It is odd at first to no longer need food, and indeed kinda a trade-off that we’ll never get to taste food again. But it takes some time to get used to, on the bright side though… We no longer need emergency bathroom breaks, ahahaha.

Granny: So… Ah heard all o’ ya went t’ help Starlight find her mother?

Applejack: Yeah, hope ya’ll not too upset ah chose t’ go see her instead o’ being there, when ya’ll was reunited with Ma and Pa.

Granny: Nah, ah gotcha. Sugar Belle told me ya mentioned having felt an obligation t’ help her out after ah conversation ya’ll had with her at the ball. Helping Starlight find ah mother she never got t’ know sounds pretty noble o’ ya’ll

Apple Bloom: It certainly was, Granny! We did kind o’ find Starlight’s mother!

Granny: Well, ain’t that nice! Where was she?

Apple Bloom: Well… maybe us finding her isn’t the exact word… ya see… just like our parents… Starlight’s mother was dead. So we got Spike t’ summon her t’ us.

Granny: Oh mah… that must o’ been one bittersweet reunion. A mother she didn’t know... that’s been dead the whole time…

Applejack: Believe it or not, Granny… that ain’t even the saddest part o’ Starlight’s story...

Applejack and the others take some time to recap everything that happened and/or they learned about Starlight’s Mother. Granny Smith going through just about the same mix of emotions they went through hearing everything. Big Mac and Sugar Belle with some shocked reactions themselves too.

Granny: Dang… what ah mare Sunset must o’ been… Ah do feel like ah heard the name Sunset Shimmer around 30 or so years ago, but she was likely still mainly in Canterlot. So wasn’t often mentioned too often in our humble little town. There’s no way ah could o’ known she’d be Starlight’s mother. Still, it’s ah good feeling Starlight got to meet her and Sunburst has his father back home too now!

Pear Butter: I think I’ve seen Sunset before up in the soul shield, though I never talked to her. It definitely makes me want to meet her now though!

Twilight: Well, you can… if you’re willing to go to a wedding between two of my friends in Saddle Arabia in just two days. We actually asked Sunset if she’d like to be summoned back down for it. And she agreed, you won’t know who the couple are. But it’d certainly be a good opportunity for you to either reunite with some more ponies or meet for the first time!

Bright Mac: That sounds like a good time!

Applejack: Say Twi, what if we got both mah mother and Sunset t’ meet that club o’ mothers we saw at the ball!

Twilight: Oh yeah, that would be kind of neat.

Pear Butter: What’s this about a club of mothers?

Twilight: You see Pear Butter, each of the mothers of the Elements of Harmony formed a club together. They also brought in Sunburst’s mother as well as Mrs. Cake AKA your friend Chiffon Swirl. I also kind of joined myself since Spike’s my adopted son!

Pear Butter: That sounds lovely! I’d love to meet all the other moms. I guess I’m the only one of the Element of Harmony’s mothers that have been missing from that club for... obvious reasons...

Granny: Ah can’t wait until the next annual Apple Family Reunion! Ought to be the best one yet when we can get Bright Mac and Pear Butter back!

Applejack: True t’ that! Heck, why stop there? There’s plenty of other deceased Apple family members we can see again. Like your own parents for example, Granny!

Granny: That’s true too! Haha! Though one o’ these days soon, ah myself am going t’ need t’ be summoned!

Apple Bloom: Awwww Granny, don’t just say that so casually…

Granny: Ah wouldn’t usually, buuuut this spirit summoning thing kinda makes death only an inconvenience fo’ us old folk now. Not any less sad, but it’s just naturally not as upsetting when ah know ah’ll still be able t’ nag at ya’ll even from beyond the grave! Ehehehehe! Of course that could also just somewhat be an opinion on this as somepony who’s lived long enough. I understand it’s probably still tragic for Bright Mac and his wife since they died way too early...

Bright Mac: Yeah… We had so much we wanted t’ do still when we passed, some o’ which we still can’t do as Spirits. But, we’d gladly trade in some o’ those just fo’ the chance t’ see our family every now and then. So fo’ us, this thing is still ultimately a plus.

Pear Butter: One downside to being a spirit is I won’t be able to use my guitar anymore. I can only somewhat touch the ground as well as family members and/or close friends.

Sweetie Belle: But you can still sing! Applejack’s always told me you had a beautiful singing voice

Applejack: Oh yeah! Ya’ll can sing fo’ us again sometime! And don’t worry about ya guitar, ah can play the instrumentals!

Pear Butter: Ok, then yeah. That can work certainly!

Applejack: Oh and ah didn’t meet her until sometime after ya passed. But ya’ll have t’ see ah friend o’ mine in Manehattan. She’s known as Coloratura, but ah call her Rara. She’s ah famous musician. Ya’ll would make fo’ an excellent duet, ah’d be willing t’ bet!

Pear Butter: It’d be great to meet all the friends you’ve met since I passed, AJ.

Scootaloo: Heh, you know what’s funny about spirit summoning? We could potentially have famous singers who have passed away brought back to make new records!

Apple Bloom: If their fans won’t mind the slight echo that spirits have in their voice

Sweetie Belle: Eh, if autotune spells can be relatively popular. I doubt a spirit’s echo would ruin it for most too bad. Heck, you know how I’m into metal? There’s plenty of songs in that genre that include an echo that gives you the best chills of the song!

The family and friends keep on talking for a little more while when suddenly a knock is heard from the other side of the house.

Applejack: Oh looks like we have ah visitor! Ah’ll go see who it is!

((Story continues after the break))

Applejack heads back inside the house and opens the door for the visitor. It just so happens to be Grand Pear.

Grand Pear: Hey there, AJ

Applejack: Oh mah stars! Grand Pear, so nice t’ see ya’ll!

Grand Pear: Nice to see you, too. I’ve been hearing quite a ruckus even from my house, I think my hearing’s weakening, but I almost swear there’s been quite some noise coming from the Apple farm today. Was kinda curious what exactly is happening, and if everypony’s ok.

Applejack: Oh we’re more then ok, Grand Pear. In fact, ya’ll should absolutely join us. Trust me, ya’ll don’t want t’ miss it.

Grand Pear: Do tell…

Applejack: Just follow me, ya’ll quickly see it soon enough.

As Grand Pear and Applejack head back out the other side, Apple Bloom is the first to greet them at the back door

Apple Bloom: Grand Pear! Ya’ll must come out here quick t’ see who’s here! Ya’ll gonna love it!

Grand Pear: Your sister said something similar, though I have no idea what you could possibly mean.

Grand Pear is now back outside as he looks around the group noticing all the Elements of Harmony and Apple Bloom’s friends.

Grand Pear: Don’t you see these ponies all the time? I don’t know why they’d be so great for me to see them, It’s not like you got Pear Bu-

Grand Pear finally notices two ponies with a white glow and somewhat transparent look. Grand Pear just stands there mouth agape but silent before he just becomes a stuttering mess.

Grand Pear:  P-p-p-p-pe-pe-pe-pea-Pear… b-b-b-b-bu-bu-bu-bu-butter?

Grand Pear wipes his eyes in case this was some sudden hallucination he was having. But even given a through wiping, Pear Butter and Bright Mac’s glowing spirits are still there. He walks just a bit closer, but quite slowly. Making sure it wasn’t a cruel mirage either. Pear Butter and Bright Mac themselves look towards Grand Pear. 

At first they look at eachother, though both don’t exactly have happy faces seeing him. Bright Mac giving him a rather mean stare, whilst Pear Butter angles her eyes similarly, but also makes an extra step at turning her back to her father. This distraughts Apple Bloom a bit who doesn’t understand why this isn’t an instant happy reunion.

Apple Bloom: Wh-wh-what’s goin’ on? Why aren’t our parents happy t’ see Grand Pear?

It’s Big Mac who answers his littlest sister

Big Mac: Grand Pear never apologized t’ either Ma or Pa before they passed. All o’ his apologies came t’ their graves, where it looks like the spirits don’t hear us. He was still in Vanhoover at the time.

Apple Bloom frowns

Apple Bloom: Oh no...

The whole group remains quiet as the tension between the spirits and Grand Pear who never managed to get a real contact for reconcilation for how Grand Pear treated them before their wedding.

Grand Pear: I… don’t know how you two are here… but… looks like all my apologies I said to your graves never reached you… did they.

Pear Butter’s ears perk up and she turns back around to look at her father, though she still looks at him with a displeased face. Although it disappoints Grand Pear that everything he’s ever said at Pear Butter’s grave was never heard. It at least assures him that this is actually them, and not some kind of dream.

Grand Pear: Well then… *sigh* I guess this is a good time to finally get to apologize to both of you for real… Pear Butter… Bright Mac… I am so so so so sorry for leaving you the way I did, before I went to Vanhoover… The feud I had with the apple family was the stupidest thing ever and I cringe whenever I’m reminded of those days…

I should have never let a petty competition between me and Granny Smith get so out of hoof that I’d refuse to let my daughter to see somepony she loved just because they happen to be in the apple family.... I’ve… met all your children. They’re all great ponies. Big Macintosh is such a gentle giant, Applejack knows how to keep things honest and is one heck of a hard worker, and lil’ Apple Bloom is just a bundle of joy and youthful optimism that I can’t help but cherish. 

Apple Bloom in particular reminds me a lot of what you were like when you were a filly, Pear Butter…

Grand Pear starts tearing up heavily. Voice occasionally cracking into a weepy tone.

Grand Pear: You were my little girl, I loved you very much. I’ll never forgive myself for prioritizing the pear business over my daughter’s happiness. I never should’ve left! *sniff*

The day I learned of your passing just a little over a decade ago… it was the most heartbreaking day of my life. You died way too soon… and even at the time, I was considering returning to apologize to you… 

But… I was just too late… and that’s what made that day worse… just when I was close to taking a chance at reconnecting with you and finally show I have accepted your love for Bright Mac… and reconciling with the apple family as a whole… fate was cruel… and I had thought I’d never get… *sniff* the opportunity to say sorry for all I’ve done while you were dating Bright Mac…

It hurt me so much it delayed me further from returning to Ponyville, I didn’t even attend your funeral in Ponyville because I thought that was only going to get me cursed out by the entire Apple Family if I attended… but I held my own sigil back in Vanhoover for you… and then I think I cried that whole night… my pillow and the top of my bed was soaked with my tears the next morning… *sniff*

Both Pear Butter and Bright Mac’s expressions have changed. They’re still staring him down, but instead of angry ones, their eyes are tilted in the opposite directions with sad looks on their faces as Grand Pear continues his apology.

Grand Pear: I frankly have no idea how you’re here right now, but I can tell that you are actually here… but the how doesn’t matter as long as I get this chance to apologize to you. You don’t have to accept my apology, I’m sure me being far away when you died probably only made yourself more bitter towards me wherever you spirits go… and I understand that I didn’t treat your love for Bright Mac with the respect that it deserved.

I was a bad father and terrible pony all those years ago, I’ll admit that. But I’m a repentant, changed old pony now… I’ll understand if you still want nothing to do with me after what I did. But I still at least want you to know… that I love you Pear Butter… and as for Bright Mac… I would be more then happy to accept you as a son-in-law now. Pear Butter loved you, and that’s what should of mattered more then anything else… I will forever be sorry… we’re all ponies… we’re all farmers… Pears and Apples are both fruit, and quite frankly both delicious… and your love was valid… but my stupid younger self chose to ignore all of those for some foolish sense of pride…

That’s most of all I’ve wanted to say… I can start heading back home... if I’m still not quite welcome…

Everyone there just stands quiet for a long while as the weight of Grand Pear’s apology falls on the emotions. Pear Butter lowering her head, turning away from her father, for a little bit. Grand Pear frowning, seeing that as a sign that she’s still not ready to accept apologies yet. Just lowers his head as he starts walking back to the Pear farm. He gets about to the other side of the house before… Pear Butter starts calling for him.

Pear Butter: Father… wait…

Grand Pear: Huh?

Pear Butter slowly walks up to her old father and starts to speak to him for the first time since he had rudely made her choose between remaining a Pear, or being an Apple family member at her privately held marriage.

Pear Butter: You were still a stubborn father when we last talked… and my resentment only got deeper when you refused to even so much as reply to our letters when I was raising a family with Bright Mac. The years of raising Big Mac and Applejack when they were little were some of the best years of my life, but if there was one thing that disappointed me was the lack of support I had from you... It’s going to take more then one conversation to fully forgive you for the years of giving me and my husband the cold shoulder…

But… I can still get a sense of the sincerity in your apology. And while I’m not sure I’m quite ready to say that I accept your apology…

Pear Butter sits down and outstretches her hooves.

Pear Butter: Come here, father. I’d be at least willing to hug you for the first time in a while.

Grand Pear gasps, though at first he questions if he even can

Grand Pear: But… aren’t you a…

Pear Butter: Do you want a hug from me or not?!

Grand Pear stands silent for a short moment, nothing would make him happier than getting to hug his daughter again. And if she’s offering, then somehow it must mean it’s possible despite her being a ghost of some sort. He approaches closer, and then Pear Butter wraps her forehooves behind her father’s back. Grand Pear wrapping his own hooves around his daughter as well. He’s surprised at just how warm Pear Butter felt, if he was blind he would of thought Pear Butter had actually never been dead at all.

Grand Pear: This… this is amazing… I thought I’d only just go through you… Don’t suppose I should also give your husband a hug?

Pear Butter: Sorry Father, you likely won’t be able to. We can only touch those who are alive if they’re blood related, or had been friends with us spirits while we were alive.

Grand Pear: Oh… ok then… I guess I have a lot of newfound lore to catch up on then, but that’s good to know… though still a darn shame.

After they release each other from the embrace. They rejoin the group, as Twilight and Applejack recap everything they’ve learned to Grand Pear about spirit summoning, where Pear Butter and Bright Mac went when they died, and what exactly they do up there.

Grand Pear: So… Dragons if they have some special sort of gemstone they can cry out can summon down spirits of the deceased? I guess I have to thank this little feller for allowing me to see my daughter again. I don’t think I’ve actually met you for very long, what’s your name?

Spike: My name is Spike, I’m Princess Twilight’s adopted dragon son.

Grand Pear: Princess Twilight’s son, ay? Well ain’t that adorable. Thank you so much for summoning Pear Butter and Bright Mac down so I could say my apologies. This… isn’t a one time thing, is it?

Spike: No, as long as somepony related to and/or were friends with either Bright Mac and/or Pear Butter goes to see me... I can summon them back down anywhere at any time after they’ve returned to the soul shield.

Grand Pear eyes shine as he hears that

Grand Pear: Why… that’s the best thing ever… so many ponies could see dead friends and family they miss so much again…. It’s incredible. And even when I eventually pass, the Apple siblings can bring me back down on occasion.

But on another note, so my daughter has been circling the planet as one of among trillions of protectors huh. I guess that’s a pretty comforting thought. Most who have ever died in all of history has been keeping us safe the whole time from all the unknowns of space. Makes death all the more less scary too, if we’re greeted by many of our closest relatives and friends before ultimately joining in the noble mission to protect the planet. I just hope I can in time get my apology fully accepted before I’m up there with Pear Butter.

Granny Smith: Until then, you can join in on some bingo with me and the other ol’ gals!

Grand Pear: Ahehheh, perhaps I should.

Apple Bloom approaches her mother

Apple Bloom: So uh.. how ‘bout singing ah song now?

Pear Butter: Oh! Yeah, certainly. I think AJ just needs to get out the guitar and then I can sing.

Applejack: Ah’ll be right back with that, Ma!

Applejack heads back inside the house and brings out her mother’s guitar from it’s case. Heading back outside to sit next to her mother as she gets ready to sing.

Grand Pear: Now this will be good, what song are you going to sing?

Pear Butter: Well… it’s a song that you wouldn’t have approved of in the old days. But I guess thankfully you’ll appreciate it now. It’s a little… love song I had for Bright Mac while we were still dating. It’s called “You’re In My Head Like A Catchy Song”

Grand Pear just smiles

Grand Pear: Let’s hear it.

Meanwhile, Sugar Belle and Big Mac whisper to eachother a little before Pear Butter starts singing. Applejack strums the opening notes

((You’re In My Head LIke A Catchy Song))

Pear Butter: We’re far apart in every way

But you’re the best part, of my day

And sure as I, breathe the air

I know we are the perfect pair!

(Bright Mac starts singing along with his wife)

Pear Butter & Bright Mac: On a prickly path, that goooees on for miiiiiiiillleeeeeeeees

But it’s worth it juuuuussst to see you smiiiiiiiiiiilllleeeeeeee

And I cannot, be pulled apart

From the hold you have, on my heart

And even if, the world tells us it’s wrong

You’re in my head like a catchy song!

(Sugar Belle and Big Macintosh join in to sing for the rest of the song)

Pear Butter, Bright Mac, Sugar Belle, Big Mac: The seasons change, and leaves may fall

But I’lll be with you, through them all

And rain or shine, you’ll always be miiiiiiiinnnneeeeeee

On a prickly path, that goooees on for miiiiiiiillleeeeeeeees

You’re the only one, who makes it all worth whillllllleeeeeeeeeee

And you should not, blame me too

If I can’t help, fallin’ in love with you…

Once the song ends. Both Pear Butter & Bright Mac, as well as Sugar Belle & Big Mac give a good long kiss. The rest of the group at the farm clap, cheer, and/or wipe joyful tears at the beautiful sight of two generations of Apple family couples singing together.

Sweetie: You were right Apple Bloom… your mother has a beautiful singing voice!

Pear Butter: I see that my oldest recalls my lyrics? I guess I did share it to you and AJ back in the day.

Big Mac: Eyyyyyuuuppppp

Sugar Belle: It’s a beautiful song. Big Mac shared the song when we were dating and we practiced singing it ourselves. We thought it’d be nice to sing along.

Pear Butter: I appreciate that, quite a bit.

Grand Pear: Absolutely heartwarming song, Pear Butter. I admit I probably would of tried to rip apart the lyric sheet had I found it was for Bright Mac long ago. But that’s not me anymore. It’s wonderful to get to hear you sing again.

Pear Butter: Thank you, Father.

Twilight: Wonderful singing from both couples! Though if I may, I thought it’d be important to mention something we took an educated guess about with Sunset. We don’t have to send you back ourselves, when Pear Butter and/or Bright Mac fall asleep thy will return to a comet-like form themselves and go back to the soul shield. So they’re free to stay the rest of the day, and then maybe we’ll summon them back down in time for the wedding in two days.

For now, we can hang out some more time here at the farm. But once it gets late at night, we’ll have to get back to sleep whether we’re sleeping back at home or going back to our rooms in Saddle Arabia. Once again, I’ll have the castle protected just like last night.

Bright Mac: Yeah, I think we’ll stay for the night and go back up ourselves once everypony’s asleep.

Pear Butter nods her agreement. As for much of the rest of the day, Pear Butter & Bright Mac spend quality time with family & friends until nighttime. Where most of the Elements and CMC use the portal gum to head back to their rooms in the Saddle Arabian palace. While Twilight and Spike once again put up their protective measures from last night over at the castle.

Meanwhile, in Sire’s Hollow it is also nighttime. Sunburst, Stellar Flare, and for the first time in a long while Sunspot are all in their beds in their own home. Starlight is sleeping in her old room, and Sunset’s spirit is laying (Though perhaps, more like just floating on the bed) next to Firelight. He tries to get some blankets over Sunset but they only go through. Though the try at it certainly makes Sunset giggle.

Firelight: Oops… I guess with the fact I’ve been able to hug and kiss you again briefly made me forget that you weren’t... alive… heh…

Sunset: *giggle* Yeah, you get the blankets all to yourself now. Don’t worry about me, we spirits feel like we’re at normal room temperature at all times. We’ll never be too hot, or too cold.

Firelight: Are you sure? Because with your fiery colors, you’ve always been plenty hot~

Sunset: Hehe, I’m glad you still haven’t outgrown your cheesy flirtations. Always found it rather charming. I guess maybe your much cooler colors may also have brought us to a comfortable level~

The reunited couple hug each other in bed before also kissing.

Firelight: Look.. I know you’ll be gone by the morning, but if you can… hold on tight to me, it’d be nice… to have some more body… or rather spirit warmth as I go to sleep.

Sunset: No problem, Fi-Fi. One perk of being a spirit is I can’t exactly get tired. As long as I don’t close my eyes for too long and/or start drifting off and/or focus.on heading back up. I’ll be here with you. I’ll wait till’ you’re sound asleep and I’ll have my hooves around you the whole time before I leave. I still remember your distinctive snoring, so I’ll know when you’re deep asleep.

Firelight just smiles, and kisses Sunset again.

Firelight: It’s good to have you back, even if repeat visits aren’t going to be quite easy without an easy ride to Ponyville or Canterlot within a year.

Sunset: I’m glad I’ll be able to come back occasionally too, best day of my li- or I guess I should say… afterlife… to see you again, and see the kind of pony my daughter has become. I’m glad I’ll still be able to watch her future unfold from time-to-time.

Firelight: I guess I’ll see you at the wedding in Saddle Arabia next, huh?

Sunset: Yep, should be fun.

Firelight: Goodnight, Shimmy

Sunset: Good night, my darling Fi-Fi.

Sunset and Firelight proceed to hold onto each other for the night. Hours later when Firelight has been snoring for a good while. Sunset closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, before focusing on heading back up. Her comet form leaving the house, back up to the soul shield. Until the next time she gets summoned again.

UP NEXT: Chapter 31: The Sands Of Time & Family

[snowslasherr]

here's a little something i’m making for all of you because you deserve it ♥️ if you don’t have a valentine you have all of these babies and me as well ♥️ i love you all so much, stay safe and take care of yourselves! i'm sorry if this is too short to be a holiday special :')

i'll add a read more thing later im sorry for clogging up ur dash

Dwight Fairfield

poor boy he'd be so nervous

dwight's really good at keeping track of the days in the fog, so he'd have extra time to prepare

he just wants to make you happy : )!!

he'll nervously tug at your sleeve at the campfire. go along with it and follow him blease

after near 20 minutes of walking in the woods you were about to ask where you're going, but before the words slip out of your mouth you see what he's been leading you to

a couple dark vines are concealing a small space, with a little creek running through the middle. the trees loomed over it, much taller than some of the other trees. crows were settled on some branches but flew away when you stepped in. the whole area was littered with flowers that dwight had planted himself, with the help of claudette. he wanted to make the perfect spot just for you.

"do you like it?"

what a stupid question. of course you like it. smh ❤

theoretically you can both sit there for hours, but trials get in the way. either way, it's perfect. he's perfect.

although he wasn't expecting anything from you it was a pleasant surprise when you whipped out a little gift. you'd gotten meg to help you force convince danny to let her borrow his camera, so she could take pictures of you both. of course, dwight didn't know this

meg was a surprisingly good photographer. the photos weren't blurry and they would make a good gift even in the normal world.

when you gave them to him he teared up and spent the next half hour quickly stuttering out how much he loves and appreciates you : )

Meg Thomas

oh boy

meg is a lil bundle of energy

you'll just be chilling at the campfire, maybe lounging around talking to nancy or jeff, when meg just nyooms in and grabs your hand. you squeak and she just starts zooming away, dragging you along with her.

meg tends to keep her offerings in a secluded place (a hollow tree trunk) because sometimes the other survivors tend to get the offerings mixed up. unfortunately, meg found this specific tree while on a run. she looked like she was having the time of her life, her braids flying behind her. she was fast.

she finally stopped and you could have a well deserved break. but that break was unfortunately cut short, because meg only stopped to pick up a small photo, before she burst back into a run.

when you got back to the campfire, she barely looked phased. you were panting, trying to catch your breath, and she looked relatively calm. she slipped the photo into the fire and then skipped off to the woods with you, to avoid passing out in front of the others.

when you woke up, the both of you were in the ormond resort. the entity had accepted the offer. you didn't even want to ask how she'd gotten the legion to stay out of their realm for you two

neither of you were dressed properly, but like almost everything in the fog, the temperature was fake.

which led to the most obvious situation

snowball fight!

she's so extra with it. she'll build a whole fort while you're pelting her with snowballs, paying no mind to it.

she makes it so big that you could hide in her fort and attack her with snowballs from the inside.

eventually, the girl gets worn out. it takes a while. but she still wants to keep going, so you two make snow angels with connected wings.

after you're both too tired to do anything else, you're pulled back to the campfire, grinning and tired

Claudette Morel

sweet baby. absolute sweetie.

smol lil claudette just pokes you on the arm, gesturing for you to follow her.

of course, you do. don't deny her she's babey

she's taking you down a long homemade path that you've never seen before. maybe because claudette spent hours between trials clearing it out just for this day, and finished it before she came to get you.

Jake Park

he didn't really have big plans for valentines day. dwight reminded him and he kinda just shrugged it off

he probably won't ever have a huge celebration for valentines day, it's not his style. he's a chill guy.

he'll probably sit with you in a clearing near the forest, holding his arm out for the crows to perch on, and showing you how to do that as well

he'll want to just lounge around, comfy day. you wanna get up? nah. comfy day. not today amigo.

consider yourself extremely special if he gives you a bouquet. it's rare, but he might!

the crows will dance around and bob their heads when you cuddle. they don't know what they're doing but let's just say they support your relationship. he totally didn't train them to do that.

he cares, kind of. he knows it's a day to be sappy but again, not really his style. he'll take the opportunity for a bit of affection though.

Nea Karlsson

nea has been planning this for a while, lets say.

every trial that you go in without her is an opportunity! she's been making a detailed mural with the few spray paints she's been allowed by the entity.

she's sure you'll be proud of her. and to top it all off, she finished just in time for valentines day. what a coincidence!

after you get back from a surprisingly laid back trial, you don't get a chance to rest before nea's smiling and telling you to follow her. you complain for a moment, but gave in anyway. you always do

she jumps over a couple logs and puddles, before coming across a couple lone brick walls. they look like nothing at first, but then you walk around to the other side.

nea's smirking as you're in awe, looking at her and then the mural.

"it's beautiful," you whisper, eyes shining. "but not more beautiful than you."

she does a complete double take at the cheesy generic line. she crosses her arms, looking away. but you can see the smile that she was trying to hide. she looked so pretty when she smiled.

Laurie Strode

she'll organize a little something :)

if you can imagine a party room, maybe one similar to one you'd see at a young kids birthday party, that's the kind of thing she'd set up.

it's just a comforting and safe scene, so she thought it'd be best

she collected a lot of offerings for this, please like it : (

she would've baked something but there's no ingredients in the fog besides corn

if you want corn though go for it

it has the vibes of one of those really good cookies from Walmart or something (okay i googled it they're called lofthouse cookies)

in the end she just wants a comfy safe environment,, it's so nice compared to the brutal things that happen in trials

Ace Visconti

do not let this man near flowers or anything of the sort. he'll take a bunch and

so cheesy

he'll take some random thing off the ground that looks cool (like a dandelion or a shiny rock) and say it's a luck charm, and pass it to you.

ace, handing you a flower tied to a funky rock with a piece of grass: happy valentines day :)

he'll set up a whole area beside the campfire for you two and if anyone steps into it he'll kick them out

if he finds a heart shaped rock he'll riot and get nea to spray paint it red. ultimate luck charm. because it's a reminder of him.

Feng Min

small little gamer :)

i'm convinced feng will take you on a romantic trip to taunt killers

myers is tired of it. susie thinks you guys are cute. evan is not having a good time. sally is supporting you. it's chaos

feng is just holding your hand, walking you around the autohaven wreckers. philip is cloaked and is too scared to be hit in the face with a pallet to uncloak.

feng is really short and she's climbing on things to be taller than you, just for the fun of it.

piggy back rides!! she loves piggy back rides. yeehaw

pick her up and carry her around? heart eyes motherfucker

Quentin Smith

aw what a cutie

he forgot about valentines day, but no fear! you didn't

after you guys swim he'll act like he's really tired so that he can rest his head on your lap. you know he's lying cause he keeps silently laughing as if he's a genius sneaky trickster

when you just happily say happy valentines day he's like 😳

he panics

just reassure him it's fine and you did something!

he's still upset about forgetting, but he's quickly distracted by you.

you've found a secluded spot in the woods, the only disturbance being the occasional core popping in to see what's up

you set up a blanket fort. you'd burned quite a few offerings for this. it worked out better than you expected it to, and you were pretty happy with it overall.

you spent as much time there as you could before being pulled into a trial

the time spent together made up for the offerings burned

Kate Denson

both of you set it up together

you stayed at the campfire, nothing crazy

kate played her guitar, and she showed you how to play a song or two (assuming you don't know how to already)

if you want to sing you are welcome to :)

kate will encourage you all the way even if you sound like nails on a chalkboard

she'll make anyone who comments negatively on your voice have a time out. no questions asked. they're older than her? don't care time out.

it's just,, nice and cozy,, and uninterrupted by trials

Jeff Johansen

big cuddly man!

like nea he'll also do something art related!

but it'll still be unique of course

instead of a mural, he'd do a small-ish but still breathtaking painting.

the rest of your day would be spent just chillin. if you're unlucky enough to be ripped into a trial, he'll bring a toolbox to get out as soon as possible. yknow. for more chillin.

Jane Romero

she'd be pretty extra

again, meg would force convince danny to let her use her camera. she'd have a big photoshoot, as best as she can with the limited resources. claudette would set up a scene, and you and jane would pose for the pictures

they turned out really good!

jane keeps them in a secure place and she won't tell you where if you say anything negative about how you looked. not risking it babe!

(phew finally done! i'm super sorry i was a couple survivors short, i didn't wanna burn myself out. if you like it please reblog? i made this in less than 24 hours to surprise you guys. i hope this is a decent special!)

[purplesurveys]

1145

What were your favorite things to draw when you were a lil kid?  I knew I wasn’t an artist the moment I started experimenting with pens and markers, and the only image I liked to keep - and was capable of - drawing on repeat was your usual kid’s portrait of a house with a sun and clouds lmao. I never learned how to draw anything else.

Do you think there is something with or around you, like a spirit, angel, ghost or something else? How does this make you feel?  No, never.

Imagine you’re a stranger looking at yourself. What things would immediately catch your eye?  Probably the way I’m scowling at stranger-me staring at me-me.

When did you feel the most confident in your life? Not sure when I’ve felt the most confident, but I typically feel so whenever I get something I’ve been desiring and working hard for, like getting a job offer or being accepted to my dream college or passing a really difficult exam.

Do you think love is needed to have good sex? For some people, no. For me, loving one another is an absolute must. < Yes, hits the nail on the head for me.

Do you think, or want to, die in the city you currently live in? I don’t think it would matter where I die, as long as it’s not from a terrible freak accident.

What is the strangest thing you have ever encountered?  That time I went to Singapore and a sex toy shop was casually blatantly standing in the middle of Orchard Road for families to stroll pass. It’s not objectively strange, of course, but it was definitely a big culture shock. Putting up sex shops in the Philippines is basically a game of who can find the best spot to hide them in.

Favourite soft drink? I never drink soda, so I don’t have a favorite.

What do you like to put gravy on? Fried chicken or steak.

Have you ever gone canoeing/kayaking?  Yes, in Palawan.

What is one thing you know about your family history you’re proud of?  I come from a line of datus from both precolonial and colonial Philippines. The most exciting part about it is that it technically makes me a princess, or at least our local version of princesses haha. I’m also distantly related to one of the three women who sewed the first Philippine flag.

Who depends on you the most? Kimi and Cooper, surely.

Are you related to anyone famous or historical, if so who?  See two questions above. Coming from my datu ancestors, my relatives also continue to serve in the local government of our family’s province until today. Not that I’m particularly proud of them or show this off whenever I want because they are all very vocal Duterte supporters and regularly engage with him and his family, so *barf*

Would you ever donate a kidney to anyone, and who?  If it ever comes down to it, I’d offer one of mine to my dad, Angela, and either of her parents.

What is the main quality you think makes a great parent? They recognize when they’re wrong and know to acknowledge it and apologize.

What three things do you think of most of each day? Tasks I have to do for work for the day, tasks I have to do for the rest of the week, and financial concerns.

Does/did your high school have pop machines?  No, of course not. Are there schools that are ok with selling soda? :/

Do you know anyone who’s won the lottery?  Not that I know of, but then again these things are shared in secret so there’s always that chance of possibly knowing someone who won the lotto at some point.

Have you ever slept in a water bed? Never slept but I’ve played on one.

How often do you use Flickr?  I haven’t visited that site since I was like 11. Not even sure it still exists.

Who is the last child that you took a photo with?  I think my cousin Toffe, but it was most likely a family photo that the two of us happened to be in. I don’t have a lot of photos with my younger cousins and kids in general.

How often do you wear hats? Never. I always think about getting a bucket hat of my own but I just never go through with it.

Would you ever get a nature tattoo? I never even entertained the thought before. But considering Hayley’s albums and songs have like a million references to flowers, it sounds like a good idea now :)

Is anyone in your family sick at the moment?  My paternal great-grandma was recently confined in a hospital but she’s been discharged. I have a grand-aunt who suffered a mild stroke a couple of weeks ago and is currently recovering.

Where do your siblings work, if anywhere? They are both still studying. If I had to guess, my sister would probably end up in the film, media, or advertising industry, if not a freelance artist.

Where is your favorite place to buy groceries?  If I had the money for it I’d get my groceries at Marketplace, but I’m content with getting ours from SM or Robinsons for now.

Who do you generally talk to the most? Probably my immediate family and my team at work.

Is anyone saved in your phone under a nickname?  Not anymore. I use nicknames on my friends more frequently on Facebook Messenger.

Whose birthday is coming up?  One of my cousins’ birthday is on March 31.

Have you ever ordered from an informercial? No, never.

When, where, and why did a needle last pierce your skin?  Around a month ago when I was embroidering. I usually accidentally prick myself from time to time.

Have you been to an escape room? Was it a success?  Nah, not really my idea of fun. I’m a little weak at problem/riddle-solving :(

How many followers do you have on Instagram? I literally never use my Instagram except to lurk and look for influencers to potentially tap for work. The account was initially my one-photo-a-day-in-2020 dump, but I stopped in April last year and now we’re in 2021 it doesn’t even serve a purpose anymore lmao. But for some reason Bea asked for my account and still followed me (and is the only person following me), which I’m sure she already regrets.

What’s the most recent music video you watched? Thoughts?  Continued the next day. Jessi’s What Type of X. Killed it as always.

Have you ever recorded a cover of a song? Never.

What makeup products are your go-tos?  None.

Are you going to school this year?  No, not anymore. I did that for the very last time in 2020, and I don’t see the point in going back for an MA because I feel like I’m already covered.

What is your favorite water activity? I’ve only ever tried kayaking, but that was a very pleasant memory.

What are your favorite video games? I’m not a super passionate video game fan who’s always up-to-date, but I do have a soft spot for games I bonded on with my family when I was a kid, like Grand Theft Auto (very inappropriate for a kid to be playing, I know lol), Silent Hill, Resident Evil, Mario Kart, and Smash Bros.

Do you like jello? I never got over the texture, so no.

When was the last time you gave someone "the finger?" Not sure when exactly but it happened recently, maybe a week or two ago. I suddenly thought about my ex and flung both fingers around just for myself lol.

Have you ever held a snake?  Yes, I got the chance to hold and take a photo with one on my trip to Bali. I was the only willing one in the family.

Most unique place you’ve ever been to?  Baker’s Hill in Palawan is what I would imagine seeing if I ever took drugs and had a trip of some sort. Most random place ever.

If you were a superhero, what color would your cape be?  Continued from...I don’t even know anymore. Just know it’s been nearly a week since I first started this, lmao. Idk maybe gold.

Have you ever slept out on your porch all night?  We don’t have a porch. We do have a rooftop and I’ve fallen asleep there a couple of times. I only do so when the climate is cold, though.

Do you like horror movies?  Sure, but I haven’t watched any in years. Just have never been in the mood for it for a long while now.

What’s your favorite Coke product?  Blech, I hate soda.

Watergun or water-balloon war?  Water gun. I’ve never been hit by a water balloon but I imagine it hurts?? so I wouldn’t want to experience it if I never had to.

Do you know anyone that’s afraid of elevators?  I know my sister and grandma are claustrophobic but they’re not ~deathly~ afraid of elevators.

Is there anything in your room that belongs to a boyfriend, or a friend of the opposite sex?  I don’t think any of my guy friends have lent me stuff that I got to take home, so no.

Who’s your favorite Beatle?  I was never a fan. I remember pretending to be, back when liking The Beatles made you look all cool and hippy and trendy... but I honest to god just couldn’t get into their music.

Have you ever texted an ex whilst drunk? How’d that go?  Yeah just once, super super way back when I was still thought remaining friends with her was the way to go. It was fine, I didn’t message anything horrific and we were both chill about it the next morning.

Do you have to stand on your tip-toes to kiss your boyfriend?  I don’t have a partner anymore but yeah, I used to. I think? Maybe? I barely remember anymore. I definitely did have to tilt my head up quite a bit, though.

Have you ever been tackle-hugged? I can’t remember if I’ve received one. I’m usually the one who gives them.

Have you ever rejected someone’s kiss before?  I don’t think I’ve been in this situation before.

Is your mood or the overall tone of your day often affected by the dreams you had the night before?  Just for like the first half hour of waking up, especially if it was a nightmare or a triggering dream. The more I wake up the more the dream fades away, and the sillier it feels that I was affected by it.

Do you think that there are any positive aspects or outcomes of suffering from a mental illness? If you have a mental illness, do you think it has changed you for the better in any way?  No. Sugarcoating mental illness doesn’t sit well with me at all. I know I’ve learned to be gentle and understanding towards other people because of the emotional abuse I’ve received in my own relationships, and I absolutely hate that it’s because of mental illness. I shouldn’t have had to learn to be kind because I was treated shittily first.

What is your opinion on celebrity culture and celebrity worship? Have you ever been guilty of putting a celebrity on a pedestal? Do you think it’s somehow more acceptable/understandable to obsess over certain types of celebrities (musicians over YouTubers, say) than others? At what point do you think an obsession like that crosses the line?  I sometimes think it’s silly when fandoms fight and defend their favorites as if they know them personally, but I’m heavily into my fair share of celebrities and I honestly don’t see anything wrong with it. As long as you’re not hurting anyone or doing anything stupid like stalking your favorites, you do you.

If you were to pursue a career in photography and had the opportunity and means to photograph whatever you wanted, what would most like to photograph?  People.

Is there a certain type of clothing (outerwear, activewear, loungewear, etc.) that you enjoy shopping for more than others?  Cute tops.

Are you ever afraid to post your ideas, artwork, photography, etc. online for fear that they will get stolen or not credited?  No, because I am not even creative in the first place and can’t make any form of art to save my life.

When is the last time you did something sexual? Last night.

Who is the last person you showered with, if anyone?  My ex but that would’ve been ages ago. It was super rare that we absolutely had to shower together.

What do you think when you see roadkill on the side of the road?  Sad and kinda disgusted if the guts are out, but also relieved that they don’t have to suffer in pain anymore.

Have you ever had an ex that just didn’t understand that it was over?  Yeah, me. Luckily I came to my senses a few months ago and have felt better and been better ever since.

Are your fingernails currently short or long?  They’re unequal lengths because I’ve been either biting or picking at them over the last few weeks, but for the most part they are long enough to need to be clipped.

Would you rather have big or small dogs?  Big.

What is your favorite sports drink? I don’t drink any of them, so none.

What was the last compliment you gave a guy?  I told my dad the dinner he made tasted excellent.

Does your jaw ever crack, pop, or lock?  I don’t think my jaw has ever made a sound before, hahaha.

Have you ever thought of how you would give your kids “the talk”?  No, but I think it’s also relevant to note that I live in a very conservative country where sexual intercourse is never discussed, especially within families; and that it’s virtually unheard of to hear of people until my generation to have been given the talk. I had to find out all by myself, and I remember being very confused when we were being taught the reproductive system in fifth grade because they only taught about the organs and their functions, and never anything deeper than that.

Luckily the last conservative generation was Gen X, and younger generations have been a lot more open-minded. And if I had to guess, I’m fairly certain Millennial parents would be more willing to give their kids the talk.

Do you ever feel like you’re missing out on something?  I mean, my 20s, thanks to Covid.

Do you ever write/draw on windows that are fogged up?  Yes.

If you were married, and your spouse’s parents became ill, would you let them move into your home? Of course.

Have you screamed in a pillow before?  Probably.

What do you like more, acoustic or electric?  Electric.

Did you actually have a cookie jar?  No.

What’s worse, having someone mad or disappointed in you? Disappointment is more gut-wrenching. I feel more hopeless and helpless when someone feels that way about me.

What do you bite on more, your tongue, lip, or nails?  Definitely my nails. Lip-biting isn’t a habit of mine and I only ever bite my tongue accidentally.

Do you think that knowing when and how you’re going to die would ruin your life?  No. I would find that comforting, actually.

Do you have a favorite bromance? From TV or a movie.  J-Man and Channy’s from Friends.

Do you find flea markets and thrift stores enjoyable?  Sure.

What color is your wallet?  Pink, but I def have to buy a new one soon as I’m still using the one my ex gave me...

Have you ever been somebody's photography subject? No, and I would hate to be. I don’t like being in front of the camera.

Nicki Minaj fan?  I like a lot of songs by her but I’m by no means a fan.

Have you ever seen the Niagara Falls?  Nope but I would love to.

[popculture-etc]

Kenny Rogers, Adam Schlesinger,...coping with 2020

Worst year ever although there were some good.

It’s too early yet for me to do a quick look back on what 2020 is like here as we’re only going to be in the first of December tomorrow (it’s Nov 30 here) but I just have to as two losses this year broke me. Kind of, well, especially the second one.

You see, before East Asian pop, Jpop and Kpop, Western pop culture was my thing. It still is and this pandemic has made me go back to that recently starting with...the Beach Boys (their westcoast sound caught me, hook, line, and sinker and I wasn’t very fond of the Beatles to begin with...to be completely honest) I’m currently chillin’ to right now, as I write this post. I’m really weak to the westcoast sound. Beach sound/s in general, rather. I’m a big fan of the beach where nature goes, for one. Since some time, a few years ago, deep chill and tropical house music has been my go-to when I want to chill or calm myself down after an outburst of sorts and I put them on when I just feel meh, especially on Fridays. When I dream of being by the sea, the beach or in some island on my own. I live in a country with a lot of beaches and the Visayas here is basically island region Philippines, lol. Like most people, I listen to music according to mood just like the way I dress according to mood. And...it’s no wonder, really that I’m so into the Beach Boys now. RIP the Beatles. My dad played some songs of theirs on the guitar or so but the hold they have on me waned later on and I just think now how overrated they were back then. They did have good songs but when talking of good music, as in really good that it retains the same sound style or so, it’s the Beach Boys for me. Brian Wilson is the man despite his issues and personal struggles.

Anyway, we’re going quickly off tangent. I’ll save the Beach Boys fangirling for another day. lol.

I grew up with western pop culture rife all around me thanks to my American, cowboy country and folk music listening dad, my Carpenters-loving mom and then, college-aged aunts who’d made me see the Titanic film more than my fingers could count---the third is clearly an exaggeration but well...some of it is true and they were why I got into American films like Pretty Woman (we have this in good ol’ VHS in our family home, my grandparents’ in Jasaan), Mannequin, Ghost etc. in the late 80s, coming into the early 90s. So, tired of all the kdrama and uninteresting kvariety shows on tvn and the rebranded local channel, Kapamilya (long story for what we formerly know as ABS-CBN, the nation’s a mess right now and our gov’t’s just...ick!), I’d retreated to my cave and got into old tv shows I’d watched as a kid instead like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Charmed and it’s been, well, moving on from there. I’m checking out Twin Peaks later. I’ve been watching old Hollywood films too. Some revisits on this include: Casablanca, Gone With The Wind, and especially A Streetcar Named Desire will always and forever be my favorite. Very young and cute and good looking Marlon Brando, ugh. I have some others in the stash which include Bonnie and Clyde I’ll be getting into much, much later, maybe over the weekends and holidays. In sum, I have a long history with western pop culture, especially America’s, more than I have with Japan’s and South Korea’s. The latter being very, very recent so it doesn’t really compare as much.

Let’s get right down to it...

So 2020 had us lose Kenny Rogers to natural causes on March 20 in a hospice and after, Adam Schlesinger to COVID 19 complications on April 1. I know the latter as the songwriter of The Wonders’ That Thing You Do from the film sharing the same song title. I know Kenny Rogers well because my dad listens to him over and over in the car. In pretty much the same way, I know the words to Islands in the Stream by heart and I accept and revere it as one of the best, if not THE BEST country-pop duet songs of all time between Kenny and Dolly Parton...as far as country and pop music in the US of A’re concerned, of course. Miley and Shawn Mendez’s cover of it I’d seen recently was alright but nothing still beats the OG one, as always. With music, it’s just, really always the case.

Kenny departing from us March this year was alright. He was well cared for in a hospice and at the right age too, to leave us and this mess of a world behind for the afterlife. Sounds grim but not really. Heh. He died of natural causes so we know he was at peace and accepted then that his time has come. Fans and long-time listeners of his should also be at peace with this knowledge. I don’t consider myself a fan but since he’s been around so much because my dad plays his songs in the car often, I’m the same. I’ve accepted his passing away early this year. He’s lived his life well and given us good music to listen to should we like to remember him and his works and celebrate his life and legacy doing so.

Schlesinger’s case was way worse because, well, COVID 19. And it’s well...I guess we all saw it coming, me included, that I’d just learned, watching the one of many national English news on ANC that ‘pandemic’ is the word of the year according to Merriam-Webster. Timely, huh? Yep. Predictable, really. Sarcasm noted here.

So if someone ever asks what 2020 was about, we only have to say that according to Merriam-Webster, it’s the global (COVID 19) pandemic. Short, not-so-sweet, succinct, and grim. Yep.

This one, Schlesinger’s case, is something I still find difficult to accept. He was only 52 years old! He was at the prime of his life and had some projects still he was working on at the time of his passing so WHY?! I suppose that’s all of us who followed him and his extensive work on tv, film, the stage and his own band, Fountains of Wayne when we heard news he’s passed away due to COVID 19 complications. It’s definitely me now though I learned of it late. Heh.

To cope with the sadness of losing Schlesinger, gone too soon at 52 years old and with an impressive Hollywood tv, stage, film resume to his name since and his own band’s, Fountains of Wayne (FoW) really good discography, by the way, I’ve been listening to FoW’s Welcome Interstate Managers---all of the contents of said album/record---and That Thing You Do’s OST with the Beach Boys’ Sounds of Summer Best of in between. My favorite song on Welcome Interstate Managers is the sarcastic take on real life as an everyday worker in sales, Bright Future in Sales. As much as I like chill sounds where music goes, I like me some music with lyrics jolting us back to grim reality in much the same way I like films (indies, mostly, or lesser known short and full-length ones) that tackle social issues not frequently discussed in public or so but we are aware are there, still plaguing much of today’s society. I live for cynical, satirical, ironic, and even hyperbolic stuff about real life actually. It may be why I’m so entrenched and attached to the era where we all hated ourselves---the 90s. Although one would say much of that sentiment or feeling did carry itself to the 2000s, though. I don’t know about you, but until now, I still hate or have heavy dislike for myself and everything else around me, especially our gov’t or current admin here in the Philippines, and people in general so I don’t think it ever really goes away. And going off tangent again for the nth time today.

Anyway, my 1996 was That Thing You Do on HBO in our household...on and off along with other 90s films like The Craft, Clueless, Jawbreakers (I think this still plays in Cinemax from time to time) so of course losing Schlesinger also was...rather, is hard. He’s done so much and he was supposed to be working on more and he’s left such a deep mark here for us, avid fans of American pop culture...I suppose, even the casual ones. Aside from his That Thing You Do, I’d also seen Josie and the Pussycats at some point. I don’t remember when, where...though I did watch some episodes of the cartoon on Cartoon Network (CN) so of course, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the film of it as well. He worked on a track or some tracks there, too. 

2020 sucks. COVID 19 sucks. This global pandemic sucks. But at least there’re films, tv shows, music, stage musical plays turned movies (Jonathan Larson’s Tick, Tick...Boom! is coming to us soon with Andrew Garfield in the lead---I’m wary of Garfield being a forgettable actor since The Amazing Spider Man because Dane Dehaan was what made that for me, to be quite honest so I’m not so sure of him being Jon here and as a self-respecting Larson fan since Rent, I’d rather they casted Neil Patrick Harris/NPH since he was in the London stage for this way back anyway...) to keep us entertained and fine until then. What would it take for ‘rona, and I’m not talking about the American Corona beer here that’s really popular in the west coast, to go away? I, like the rest of you in self isolation or quarantine, tend to think so but I don’t think we’ll have any answer to that until the vaccines are well underway by spring next year. Or at least, that’s what health authorities and scientists tell us anyway. I get reminded of it often in the news and I only tune in to that once in a while now because even that, following that daily, breaks my mental faculties down due to stress and pressure and all and I can’t have that when I still have so much, at the back of my mind, to do.

But anyway, time to conclude this one with one of my favorite The Wonders songs, All My Only Dreams just to end on a good note, better than the last paragraph’s ending at least and to remember Schlesinger as well that we’d lost this year along with plenty others we’d met in passing who’ve also left this world especially due to COVID 19 complications. I know we know a lot of those. For me, it’s a distant relative or family member I’d known since young but don’t have particular fluffy bunny feelings for because of some things that happened between the guy and me growing up in the NCR/Caloocan City to be exact. There’s also my good friend and former co-worker’s only remaining parent, her dad and a few more, I’m sure. So I hope 2021 would be better but I doubt it...very much. It’s still looking pretty dim, grim and bleak from here, where I’m currently standing in 2020.

Before we really end though, COVID 19 is definitely not a hoax. It hasn’t been since the first cases started in Wuhan, China. It’s just, only been getting worse and still continue to claim lives and spread to more people even those at home. So as someone who comes from a household of mostly medical workers or health care workers here, we should really be very careful about and around it. Let’s take the necessary health protocols seriously like wearing a mask out and maybe the face shield too and always keeping the sanitizers, alcohols in our bags among others---hygiene and sanitation, disinfection. It may come off really anal of me and I am not anal (I don’t like people with Type A personalities in the first place, lol...I’m just a very cautious Virgo, really, and a Type X---mix of Type C and D personalities) but seriously, SERIOUSLY, I can’t stress this enough, COVID 19, the virus SARS-COV2, that causes it is real. Very real and once it’s in your system, it can go the fatal, deadly way or just the mild and you’ll recover later anyway way. It’s not picking which people should die next and which should not, really. It’s really just there making a mess of things that are already messy since the beginning. My point being, it’s just better if we don’t spread it or are careful enough not to contract it with following health protocols set by health experts, scientists to help us get by this...pandemic. 

Well here’s to 2020 being over soon and 2021 creeping in on us soon enough. 

P.S.

Billie Armstrong of Greenday upped a cover of That Thing You Do as a tribute to Adam and the youtube live of the Wonders coming together again to pay tribute to and celebrate Adam’s life may still be up on the ‘tube. I have yet to see the latter but enjoyed the former. They are just so...sweet and precious. Ugh. Adam Schlesinger, gone too soon indeed. :(

PPS

Another songwriter/contributor in the TTYD OST passed away last year, too. Rick Elias. Cause of death is brain cancer. I had a friend from college, young and so full of life and dreams, who passed away due to the same thing so I’m kind of aware how this goes. Ugh. Cancer sucks. All of these are just so...sad. Depressing, actually.

[flowerfan2]

Affinity - Ch. 10 (10.10)

McDanno, A03, 10.10

Summary: A continuous story of season 10 episode codas.  Steve may describe their relationship as a dysfunctional marriage, but at some point, will he and Danny take a closer look at what it really could be?   (The answer is yes).

Author’s note - this episode didn’t give us much (any) McDanno, so please enjoy this little domestic scene...

Chapter 10

Steve opens the door to his house and steps inside, feeling his shoulders relax.  There’s music coming from the kitchen, and he grins a little to himself as he leaves his shoes at the door and goes to find Danny.

He pauses for a moment at the doorway, watching Danny sway his hips to the beat of what sounds like a Paul Simon song from the 80’s.

“Hey, babe,” Danny says, noticing him, and dances over to drop a kiss on his cheek.  “You made good time.  Dinner’s almost ready.”  He waves towards the fridge with the spoon in his hand.  “Why don’t you get out some beers.”

It’s been a long day, and Steve is all too happy to oblige.  He opens a beer for Danny, takes a long swig of it himself first, and then sidles over next to him.  Danny’s stirring something aromatic in a pan on the stove.  Steve leans over, fingers darting out to grab a taste.  

“Stop that,” Danny says, pushing Steve’s hand out of the way.  “Animal. I said it’ll be done in a minute. Go wash up.”

Danny’s such a dad sometimes, Steve thinks.  He kind of loves it.

 By the time Steve has washed his face and hands and changed into a clean t-shirt, Danny has turned off the music and is bringing the food out to the table.  He sets the frying pan carefully on a green and blue quilted potholder – something Grace made years ago that managed to find its way to Steve’s house.  Plates and silverware are already laid out, so Steve sits down and lets Danny serve him the fragrant stir-fry and a scoop of brown rice.

 “This looks wonderful,” Steve says, his mouth already salivating.  “Thanks.”

 “Szechuan style,” Danny says.  “It’s a little spicy.  I added extra chiles.  Might have gone a bit too far.”

 Steve takes a bite of the gleaming combination of chicken, peppers and onions, and feels his sinuses tingle. “No, it’s great, I like it.”

 Steve spears a particularly nice looking piece of red pepper from Danny’s plate, for no real reason at all, and Danny mock glares at him while he chews.

 “Your table manners leave something to be desired,” Danny scolds, and Steve just smirks and knocks his elbow against Danny’s.

 “Guess I’d better get used to chicken and veggies, huh,” Steve says after a few more bites.  He knows this dinner is a result of his doctor’s instructions to change his diet.  As delicious as it is, it’s a marked change from their usual fare of grilled meats, cheese-filled Italian specialties, and take-out.

 “Not just chicken,” Danny says mildly. “Fish is healthy too.”

 Steve frowns.  “It sticks to the grill, and falls apart.”

 “That’s because you refuse to listen to me.  If you put in a grill basket, that wouldn’t happen.”  

 “If you use a basket, then it just sticks to the basket.”

 “Not if you grease the basket with a little olive oil, like I showed you.”  Danny pushes at Steve’s shoulder, and Steve goes along with it, rocking in his seat.  “Stop pouting.  You can still have steak sometimes.  Your doctor didn’t say never, right?”

 “True.”  Steve sighs.  “It’s just one more thing.”  One more sign that he’s not the same guy he used to be.

 “Yeah, I know.  Better than the alternative, though, right?”

 Danny’s in his 40’s too.  At least they’re going through this together. It’s still depressing.  “Quinn called me old today.  And wouldn’t let me have a malasada.”

 “Told you she was smart.”

 “But you just said – it doesn’t mean never-”

 Danny snorts.  “You always tease me about eating them, why so eager for donuts now?”

 “It’s principle of the thing.”

 “Yeah, well, honestly, Steve, when you called me in a panic after your appointment this morning, I really didn’t think we were going to be discussing menus.”  Danny’s tone has shifted; he’s not smiling any more.  “It’s just food.”

 Steve looks away, a tight feeling in his chest.  He may have overreacted a bit.  Given everything, needing to change his diet is relatively small potatoes, no pun intended. He glances up at Danny, who is frowning and picking at the label on his beer bottle.  “You thought something else was wrong, when I called you after my appointment,” he finally says, acknowledging the cause of Danny’s concern.

 “I did,” Danny says simply. “Next time I’m going to the doctor with you.  My nerves can’t take this.”

 Steve starts to protest, and then stops.  He wouldn’t mind, actually, having someone there with him as he waits for the doctor to tell him if the radiation poisoning has finally caught up with him. It’s possible that the stress over what he feared he might learn at his appointment may have had something to do with his overblown reaction to the whole diet thing.   “Okay, yeah. You should come next time.”

 They clear the table in silence. Steve catches Danny around the waist as he sets the dishes in the sink, and presses a kiss to the side of his neck. “I’m sorry.”

 “Nah, it’s okay,” Danny says, turning to kiss Steve properly.  It’s a good kiss, firm and with just the right tease of tongue, but Steve pulls back before it can get too involved.

 “What’s wrong?”  Danny asks.

 “I’ve got to go back to the office. Duke wants to see me.”

 Danny’s eyes widen.  “It can’t wait until tomorrow?  What’s going on?”

 Steve shrugs.  “Duke didn’t have a chance to fill me in.” He glances at his watch.  “We’re meeting at nine at the palace.”

 “That’s weird.”  Danny grabs Steve’s hand and tugs him out of the kitchen. “We can chill for a while though, right? You look like you need a break.”

 It’s true, just remembering that he has more work to do tonight has brought back that ache in his shoulders.  Solving three murders in one day really should be enough.  

 They wind up on the couch, and before he knows it, Steve is curling into Danny, tucking his face against his partner’s chest.  Danny strokes the back of Steve’s head with one hand, and wraps an arm around his shoulders.  Steve lets himself focus on Danny, fills his senses with the warmth of his skin, the scratch of his scruff, the smell of soy sauce and spice on his breath.

 “Don’t let me fall asleep,” Steve mumbles, and Danny’s chest vibrates under his cheek as he laughs softly.

 “It’s okay, I’ll set an alarm.” Steve is shifted as Danny fumbles with his phone.

 They resettle, Danny laying down on the couch, and Steve snuggling up alongside him.  “I’m sorry,” Steve says again, too tired to do anything but hold on. The idea of making out sounds pleasant enough, but distant, and his head is too heavy to move anywhere in that direction.

 “It’s really okay, babe,” Danny says. “I don’t know why you’re apologizing.” Danny lets out a long breath, stroking a hand along Steve’s side.  “I love that you can be like this with me.”

 Steve’s brain catches on this, trying to parse the meaning, and Danny must feel him tense because he quickly nuzzles a kiss against his hair.

 “No, it’s good.  Don’t think it’s a failing, for once, okay?  It’s healthy for you to be vulnerable sometimes, to take some comfort.”  Danny’s words are tentative, but no less sincere for it.  “Most people need it, you know?”

 “I’m not a kid,” Steve says reflexively.  Babies need touch, but he is a grown-ass man, and he should be able to make it to the end of the day without collapsing on top of his best friend –slash– boyfriend.

 There’s a pause, while Danny clearly thinks about what to say next.  Steve’s not quite sure if they’re arguing.  Usually their arguments involve a lot less cuddling.

 “But this helps, right?”  Danny says softly.

 “Yeah,” Steve breathes out.  “It does.”  He can’t deny it.  He won’t. He’s gone too long pretending he is happy on his own.  He wants to let himself admit it, how much he treasures Danny and the care Danny shows him. He wants to believe it’s real.

 “I’m glad it helps, babe.”  Danny keeps his stroking Steve’s side, moving his hand up and down from his shoulder to his ribs, soothing the tension under his skin.

 “Danny?”  Steve asks, wanting to get this out, before he lets Danny’s movements lull him to sleep.  It’s important that Danny knows.

 “Yeah?”

 “I’m really glad too.”

[beatsfortheillperth]

Words with Twin Nemesis

The United States is the homeland of a lot of the creatives we've had words with over the years, and Soph and Sylv, the masterminds behind Twin Nemesis are just two more US beat-smiths and creatives who just so happen to be cohesively moving sound-waves over in the USA.

The girls are tweaking valleys of bass that display a musical landscape that is infused with funk and wave wonder and this duo will intrigue like the piper, tame ones head to bop and, damn feet to tap with their select but distinguishing variety of tracks.

Twin Nems sound will either have you wishing you were out in an underground nightclub, bouncing by the speakers or, chilling at home on a rainy day with a hot cuppa. It can go both ways with these talents, something that's not easy to encourage, but these beat-smiths do so in the most pleasing matter.

Keeping their minds well and in tune away from producing through their studies in University and Med School. These two are not only fuelling their minds but the minds of their listeners worldwide. 

Thank you Twin Nem and please don't let the studies led to a musical disappearance, Bass needs you both to continue your relationship and we need you to stay together, for our speakers' sake. 

Much love and enjoy words with these unique talents.

Listen to Twin Nemesis, Saying Hello on Spotify -https://open.spotify.com/artist/0aSDNbyGRzbragp1DE9ZKk

Hey, Twin Nemesis thank you so much for taking the time to share words. I thought we would start will a few quick questions.

Favourite Food: Sophie - Mac and Cheese Sylvie - I love food, so that's gonna be hard! I'd say sushi, vanilla berry cake, gummy candy or Thai food :). Oh, and a juicy burger and onion rings. Favourite Beverage:   Sophie - Mojito ;P Sylvie - Plain and simple, water! Stay hydrated, folks! Last track you listened to: Sophie - The Suburbs- Mr Little Jeans Sylvie - Jon Casey's 20/20 mix! That part at 1:30 is insane!! A childhood memory in regards to music: Sophie - The first song I remember is Karma Police..my mom was playing it in the car when I was like a few months old and it stuck with me. I heard it again maybe when I was 14? It was like a shot of lightening. I felt this nostalgia. It was insane. It's my favorite song.   Sylvie - Without a doubt, driving with my dad in the car to Sergio Mendes and the Beatles. I grew up on Bossa Nova and Classic Rock :) First Album you ever purchased: Sophie - Ok Computer  Sylvie - Sheesh, I can't recall to be honest! Most likely something from Sergio Mendes. Last Album you purchased: Sophie - Don't remember tbh  Sylvie - I stream on Spotify, so I haven't quite been purchasing! Views on Cheese: Sophie - Give me all the cheese, just not the weird french ones Sylvie - Cheese is godly. The music you were listening to in Middle School: Sophie - Dubstep (UKF, etc) Sylvie - In Middle School, I was a huge fan of dubstep and drum and bass! UKF releases were the bulk of my then ITunes (rip) library! Still love both genres, especially the soulfulness of liquid drum n bass! What you like to do in your downtime: Sophie - Run around, play videogames, music Sylvie - I'm almost constantly studying, to be honest. However, if I do have a moment, I'll be reading medical journals or watching operations. I want more than anything to be an Emergency Room Physician, so I'm constantly reading articles about the ER when I find good ones. 

I'll also often hop on a shift to volunteer for Crisis Text Line, a truly powerful platform where you can be there for people in difficult times <3. Spreading love and reaching out is incredibly important to me. I also spend a lot of hours as well training for fencing and at the gym for cross-training... Not much "free time" I suppose, but that's exactly how I like it! I'm a busy bee. :D Your ideal feast would consist of: Sophie - Pizza, mac n cheese, nugs. Basically all the foods that will send me to the grave. Sylvie - Probably too much food to realistically procure for one feast. 

Thanks for that, so I'd like to start by asking, how did you both meet? Had you known each other long before you started making music together? Sylvie - We met in fencing in middle school and instantly became best friends. We just clicked! About a year into our friendship, I mentioned in fencing practice that I produced music, and Sophie wanted to join. We learned the ropes of Maschine together, and she picked up Logic faster than I did. Sophie proved to be a natural, and things just flowed from there!

Sophie - We went to the same middle/high school but met during fencing practice! We both fenced sabre for a couple of years and bonded through that. So probably like 2-3 years before we started making music.

    How did your musical relationship start and at the beginning were you both making your own music separately? How long have you been making music together? You've been releasing music on Soundcloud for 5 or so years under Twin Nemesis. Had you been making music together even before releases such as "Nocturne"? Could you share a memory from your early days making music together that has inspired you to continue creating? Sylvie - Sheesh, I would say it's been 6 years. We waited a year before releasing. We're both perfectionists. Before Twin Nemesis, I was releasing creations on my personal account. Sophie vibed with them, and before long we were producing together. In high school we would have "production nights" where we would stay up all night and produce something on one computer, one Maschine. Right after? Dance party time. These have been some of my best memories to date. Sophie - Sylvie taught me everything about how to use Logic and Maschine when we first started! I remember during fencing practice she was talking about producing beats and I thought that was so unique and interesting since I didn't know anyone who did that. We started hanging outside of fencing at her house experimenting with the Maschine and I just fell in love. 

What equipment do you guys use to create your sound? Also if it applies, what musical instruments do you both play? Does knowing how to play an instrument necessarily benefit someone trying to make beats more? Sylvie - I have background in drumming, so I gravitated towards the Maschine. I'm actually a classically trained violinist, and have been playing for 16 years! I also play the bass and drums. In terms of helping beat-making, I'm not quite sure. Plenty of really legendary beat-makers don't play other instruments-- I don't think it's needed to play anything. But I like to incorporate classical or jazz elements into my music when I can. Sophie -  I do not actually play any instruments but I use Maschine as well as Logic and Ableton. I wish I understood the theory behind a lot of the music being put out today but playing by ear has worked out so far.  Could you share a paragraph of what Twin Nemesis represents to you individually and also what Twin Nemesis represents to you both collectively? What inspired the name Twin Nemesis? Love it. Sylvie - Its really special to be able to make music with your best friend. To me, Twin Nemesis represents a creative outlet where we can express our feelings through a medium that has no words.

 We're able to pinpoint that feeling, and hone in on the sonic experience that can deliver a sense of it into our listeners. I want to be able to uplift them, be there for them, show them that they're not alone, be their shoulder to cry on, and help them if I can with our music. 

To me, it's my hope that we can help heal people with the joy of music, (cheesy as it sounds). There's no greater joy than helping others, and I hope we can do that not just in our day- to-day lives, but in our music as well. 

Sophie came up with Twin Nemesis actually, and it's ironic, because I'm an actual twin. We are far from nemeses, my twin is a best friend as well, and I'm extremely lucky to have her. So there's no connection there, Sophie just thought it sounded cool. She's creative as heck! 

Sophie - I think I came up with the name and honestly I think it came from the fact that Sylvie and I just looked very different (blonde vs brunette), yet we're both girls so I wanted to keep that dichotomy but also, yeah, it just sounds cool haha. 

For me Twin Nemesis is a great way to relax. I just finished my BS at Cornell University and am starting medical school at UCSF so my life tends to be very busy and stressful. Making music really grounds me and I found during the most stressful times of my career I tend to create the best music.   Going back to your track "Nocturne" I wanted to discuss it a little further as it is Twin Nems' earliest release that I felt contrasted it's follow up release on Soundcloud delightfully. That follow-up release was "Nostalgia". Were the contrasts in these two releases intentional or are the tracks unrelated? Can you share what making Nostalgia and Nocturne was like? And what you were trying to portray with each track? Sylvie - The two of those tracks were meant to be lofi hip-hop-esque. They were meant to evoke feelings of, well, nostalgia, from two different waveforms. For these two, we busted out our Maschines, and went for something as groovy as it was soulful. 

The process was relatively simple, as we were still figuring out the ropes- chop up a sample, lay down a bass-line, and of course, drum out a groovy, swinging drum pattern. That was really it, admittedly, but we felt that there was a special soulfulness in these tracks, so we released them. Sophie - Skipping, tbh don’t remember much other than I was going thru a bad breakup and these songs helped haha I just wanted to add, back in 2015 Twin Nemesis released a track called Chapel of the Devil via Bandcamp and the sounds displayed in that beat could easily nurse a rap, you guys had skill even back then, much love. What was it like for you making Chapel of the Devil and how do you feel your style has adapted over the years since? Do you feel more confident with each release over time, or do you feel you were more confident with your earlier releases? Sylvie - Mmmm. Good question! Sophie was more involved with that one. She found the sample and chopped it nicely. I can't really take much credit for that. In terms of style, I've began to shift into more bass-music, experimental types of music and have started to produce a fair amount of lo-fi hip hop.

What does making a beat do for you? Does it help you in any personal sort of way like offer an escape? What is it that you think draws more and more people into wanting to create their own beats? Sylvie - Making a beat is an outlet where I don't have anything to lose. When I'm making music, I tap into my emotions, and if not mine, my boyfriend's, my close friends', the worlds', or even my dog's (I'm obsessed with her). More and more people are gravitating towards beatmaking because it's become more culturally relevant with the rise of Soundcloud- the ability to share your creativity with the world is unique, and the fact that everyone has access to that upload button makes music production rather appealing. 

We live in a world of music-- it's all over us. To be able to create your own tunes has been an ever-present drive of humanity-- it's visceral. I gotta give one of my best friends, (an extremely talented classical pianist), Phoebe some credit for coming up with a quote that sums up why music itself is so powerful, especially in times like these-- 

"There’s nothing like the comfort of listening to a song that gets you. And that’s why music is so powerful, it can relate to any kind of person and make him or her feel safe and understood."

People are looking to make that song that gets them, to find that exact feeling that resonates with them and express it without words, in, what my boyfriend Jackson, (a phenomenal guitarist), describes as a medium that is visceral and can touch each and every person that listens differently. 

He believes some of the beauty of music is the ambiguity of the meaning as well. I had to credit these two here for their deeply insightful thoughts. 

Sophie - Refer to previous question, my life is very academically stressful so I use it as an escape away from the pressures of school. Twin Nemesis is also responsible for some bass-driven mixes that are just timeless. Listened to your minimix "That Wavy College minimix" which you both made two years ago and it is still relevant, thank you! Had you both always been into mixing or was it something you picked up along the Twin Nem journey? What gets you in the mood to want to create a mix and what inspires the tracklist you curate? Sylvie - YESSSSSS BASS MUSIC :) Mixing was something we picked up on the way. It really depends on who is making the mix. If it's Soph, it will be more melodic and rap-driven usually.

If it's me, it will be all about the drums. These are pretty consistent distinctions. The track-list is based on what has me bobbing my head and making the stank face at the moment. :)

Sophie - Sylvie makes most of the mixes and I loooove listening to them, especially when I'm studying. Her music taste really vibes with mine. I've tried making mixes but have yet to post anything....maybe soon... Twin Nemesis will also be doing a beatsfortheill mix which we are super humbled about, thank you both. What can our readers and listeners expect with this up and coming mix? Sylvie - You'll see ;) Bringing the timeline forward to a year ago, we have to discuss your track snüp, one of my personal favourites by Twin Nem that I feel perfects the sound you'd want any beat to create when you're trying the lay back, much love. How did you go about creating snüp, how long did it take you guys to make and what inspired it's creation? Sylvie - It was rather simple as well! Snoop Dogg acapella + sample chopped up + infectious drum groove + bass. Done. I would say it took us about 3 days actually. 

The both of us love jazz, old school hip hop, and soul music, so we wanted to integrate the sound of old school hip hop with more "new school". 

Adding the vinyl-ridden sample to a Snoop Dogg vocal was a contrast that we found worked very well, so we followed through with the idea and released it. 

Sophie - I'll let Sylvie answer this one You also released a track called Echoes of the Past in the same year and it was a track that showed me that you guys could tackle any genre. It's chilled, slightly romantic and soothing on a lofi lovers ears, thank you for creating this track. What inspires your shifts in sound in general from genre to genre? And on the subject of this particular track, what was it like to put together? Were you trying to share anything subtly with this release? Sylvie - Shifts in genre are because of our extremely diverse tastes in music. We listen to music spanning almost all genres, (save country, and for me, indie). 

This allows us to want to produce along the gamut of vibes! When we're especially enjoying lo-fi, like we were when we were making Echoes of the Past, we'll make lo-fi. If we're inspired by left-field bass/trap, we'll make something like Hello.Jpeg. It all depends, and there really is no specific reason for why make what we make, when we make it. It just happens that way! I wish I could say that I was trying to convey something...  In regards to music-making, what draws you in about a certain sound or vocal that makes you want to sample it? Sylvie - For me it's all about the groove. You know, when a groove is just *so infectious* that you can't help but bob your head and get those chills down your spine and turn the volume up higher.

I'm a sucker for creamy keys as well, like a Rhodes sample, the Korg Triton, jazz chords, 7ths. I love old soul and jazz music :) 

But also, I equally enjoy warping glitches and harsh sounds. For drum samples? Drums. Must. Slap. They have to cut through the mix and be powerful and beefy, with a liberal amount of syncopation added for that off-kilter groove.   Sophie -  I love oldies and sampling classical music, so if I'm listening to a random track and hear a catchy melody I download it right away and create something with it. I also am drawn to sadder more melancholy melodies. Not sure why but it's always been like that. The song that introduced me to your sound was "Hello.Jpeg" and I was blown away with this track. The intro reminded of something N.E.R.D could have produced and the bass will convert any avid bass listener, thank you again. What were you going for with this release? Did it take long to put together? Also, what do you enjoy most about this track? Sylvie - Awww sheesh, thanks! We were going for my favorite musical element, bounce. For me, that's what makes a track (in bass music). 

It's gotta have that bounce. We'd been listening to Jon Casey, Tsuruda, Explore, Mr. Carmack, etc. for ages, and were hoping to achieve a similar bouncy, stompy feel. 

This track by far took the longest to put together-- probably upwards of 2 weeks? There were a lot of elements there. As for the last question here, I think you can tell what I'm proudest of in this track.... (hint: the bounce). Sophie - We love experimenting with different genres and Hello.Jpeg was our jump. It was extremely fun and very natural to make...we're probably going to create more of that type.  Do you have any Musical Recommendations you could share? Sylvie - Ahhh, yes. I'll go by genre. 

In terms of bass and future beats, the "20/20" mix by Jon Casey is impeccable. Check out that 1:30 time stamp. "Spit That" by Chee has that groove and bass that keeps me wanting to come back for more. "Neptune" by Sam Gellaitry has an incredible groove in the second part that will have you bobbing your head, with that lush bass swirling around. You really can't go wrong with Mo Vibez either. "Hammer" by Tsuruda, "Deception" by Herzeloyde, and "React" by Chromonicci have that signature bounce that I love as well, I'm always scouting for bouncy songs. 

In terms of more hip-hoppy stuff, I'm gonna have to recommend Tek.lun's "Seshat". It has that bossa nova feel I've always loved, blended with hard-hitting drums. 

Drum and Bass! "Progression" by Flite. Anything by Dawn Wall. It's rolling and soulful. Speaking of soulful, soul! 

Tom Misch nails it every time, and I cannot recommend Gareth Donkin's track, "Catharsis" enough. It's beautiful. See for yourself. Classic rock, bossa nova... okay, should I just make a Spotify playlist for y'all? 

This could be too long. 

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/27nkDj0eqPrzOl2CLGNikJ?si=btVmbVLST5SOFRqSgDs6Fw Sophie - I love Sasha Marie mixes. I've found so many songs and artists through her soundcloud page. Give it a listen. Any up and coming releases we should keep a lookout for? Sylvie - Again, you'll see ;) 

Any Last Words? Sylvie - Yeah! An important part of my creative process and just, my life in general, are my amazing boyfriend and best friends, and my family, (yes, that includes my dog, of course). 

Just wanna give them a shoutout here. They're always cheering me on, and I'm absolutely so blessed to have them in my life. I cannot thank them enough. Sophie - Thanks so much for all this, truly blessed to be interviewed! Support Twin Nemesis Here: Soundcloud - https://soundcloud.com/twinnemesismusicofficial

Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/artist/0aSDNbyGRzbragp1DE9ZKk

Bandcamp - https://twinnemesis.bandcamp.com/ Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/twinnemesismusic/?hl=en

[diaryformytravels]

#30 Orlando (Day 4)

Morgs here. Only one week left until London, thus no more Max or Mikko!

Today we did the first of the Universal parks (the smaller one). We had a relative sleep in, but I still wanted to die upon waking. Max had a bowl of strawberries for breakfast, but after about two he decided he would get a chocolate croissant from Starbucks instead when we got to the park. This was because Jasper said this is what he was doing. I was sitting there, eating my cereal, while a family war breaks out. Max is whining, Mikko grunting something in anger, Michelle getting frustrated. After this was resolved, Mikko was checking everyone was ready, saying lets go etc, while I’m literally still sitting at the table, half-way through my cereal. It’s like I don't even exist. Last night, left out of Jasper’s poem, we were all talking in the car on the way to Disney Springs, at this moment I was speaking and midway through a sentence Mikko says “This is the Lime car park.” WTF. Max and Jasper laugh because now I’ve pointed out my invisibility and apparent muteness, they realise it happens a lot. 

Anyway, back to today. Eventually we left the apartment and stopped at Walgreens to get some insoles/shoe things for J and I, as well as some red bull. Michelle was in a bit of a mood, but we didn't know why. We got a message from Mikko saying “chop chop” followed by some similar remarks, which did not make her any happier. We all went across to Starbucks, why they didn't go while we were in the pharmacy, we’ll never know. The rest of us are in the car while Michelle is ordering, and we’re trying to figure out who angered the demon. Mikko owned up, suggesting it was because of the messages, but J and I did not agree because she was already in a state. She sent a message to the group chat reading “Not impressed with any of you. Try to remember this is also my holiday and I have taken time off work to be here.” This made me (probs J as well) a bit cranky, because we rarely get to make decisions, and are having the worst holiday ever. We found out later that she was like this because of Mikko, but actually because he was being stupid. He had been rushing her all morning and giving her more things to do (get Max’s clothes, charge his phone etc) while he did nothing. So understandable. 

Mikko dropped us at the park, and it wasn't very busy. We stopped at the Starbucks while the boys got chocolate croissants, Michelle got a coffee and the rest of us got some strawberry drink. We got through with minimal issues and began on the largest ride. I hate it. We all did it the first time. It’s pretty cool in the sense that you can choose a song before you start moving, and then it plays for the duration of the ride. There were about twenty options of different genres (I picked a Kanye West song), but at the end of the day when Max and J did it again, J discovered a secret list of over one hundred songs, so he listened to Crocodile Rock. I thought I would have time to prepare, but we basically walked straight onto the ride. The start is awful, it goes straight up, but the seats are slightly reclined and there is only a lap restraint rather than a harness, so it feels like you’re going to slip out. This goes for about thirty seconds, and then drops straight down. The rest is very fast with a few turns, at some point my vision began to dwindle, but it came back! Needless to say, I didn't do that one again. J and Max repeated while Michelle and I waited and went to the bathroom. 

Once they got off, I went to get popcorn with J but everyone insisted I get it after the next ride (even though I needed food to settle my stomach). We did the Jimmy Fallon ride, which was pretty cool. It was a 4D thing like Transformers, and made me quite motion sick and had a few jump scares (there was a shark!). After this I got my popcorn. 

Next was The Mummy. and as we were walking through the line area, J gave Max the biggest jump scare and he screamed SO loud and incredibly high pitched. J got a little scared on the ride when the mummy’s pop up on the sides (I still do too). We did it again of course, and J gave him another jump scare that worked better than the first!

Then we did Transformers, which was more motion sick inducing than I remember. Only did this one once. Next, J, Max and I did the Fast and Furious ride which is the most boring and worst thing to exist. Not to mention the fast pass ends before the line actually begun, so we still had to wait ages for it. Also encouraged motion sickness. Not loving the amount of 4D rides. We had lunch (seafood, great) where I got fish and chips. 

We then went to the Harry Potter ride, which is in Gringott’s Bank and is set in the vaults. We had to wait a long time for this because they had some technical difficulties. I had to swap spots with J in the line because Max was being such a pain and putting me in the shittiest of moods. He was complaining about how he didn't want to go to the Harry Potter shops again because we did them last time, and that he wants to go to the outlets because he “didn't buy anything” (spent all his money and J got nothing from there), was being the most spoilt and ungrateful brat I’ve ever seen and a stench of BO. Michelle says he’s self conscious about his smell, but that can't be true because he finds every excuse to not have a shower and not wear deodorant. Eventually we got on the ride and it was better than I remembered! We wanted to do it again but decided to wait until Max calmed down a bit and the line shortened. 

After having a little couple’s spat, we went to the Men in Black ride, which is a shooting thing and you earn points based on how many things you shoot. Max was determined to make it a competition. This did not end so well when he lost by a lot, him having half of my score (the second lowest at 80,000). He insisted we do it again, so we line up and get to the front, next to go on. This experienced technical difficulties as well, so after about ten minutes we leave and go back to Harry Potter. 

We get halfway through this line, only to be stuck again because of difficulties. By the time we get to the front, we have to wait again because someone chucked up on one of the carts, so they have to clean it. After this, we got some jumpers (Gryffindor and Hufflepuff of course).

We then went to get some snacks (hotdogs) and Max plays some carnival games that are very entertaining to watch because he gets really frustrated. After this we decided to head out and skip the boring rides. J and Max do the big rollercoaster again (its now he finds the secret song list), and then Mikko picks us up and we go home. 

After chilling out for a bit and me having a little nap, us and Michelle went to pick up some takeaway for dinner. We came back and feasted. We were gone for maybe half an hour to an hour, but Mikko and Max had done nothing to get ready for when we got back, so we had to set the table, find an extra chair and everything.

Tragedy struck. Jasper spilt butter chicken on his new Gryffindor jumper. Most of it has gone after vigorous attempts to remove it. He is very sad. But if it cannot be fixed, Michelle said she will purchase another for him tomorrow. 

Off to bed now, got to get an early start! Missing you guys and home on Australia Day!!

Love xx

[actualhumansunshine]

I am sort of new to being a Niall fan and I want to ask a question that I hope won't come off rude. So here goes. Why is it that Niall has what I think is the smallest fanbase of One Direction? From things like online voting and likes, he seems to have the smallest fanbase even though he has lots of twitter followers, which really surprised me. Did he lose the most fans after the band broke up, with the folky image and the golf? Was it always like this? Thanks for your thoughts!

you’re not coming off rude at all!! tbh i only became a stan level fan in late 2015 (though i did listen to their music and have them in my periphery from v early on), so i don’t know if i’m 100% the best to answer this when it comes to things happening during the band from a fan’s pov, but i’ll still give you my perceptions of why the fandom seems to be split the way it is ghaslkdjf

1) harry - it seems to me like he was more or less groomed to be the breakout star (aka the justin timberlake) of 1D from very, very early on. that lends itself to more name recognition, an overall bigger fanbase, and more GP interest in general. add in the larry shipping/conspiracy on top of that and you’ve got a HUGE group of people dedicated to him. add that to the fact that he RARELY posts these days and OF COURSE his posts are going to get huge stats on them.

2) louis - a huge, huge, HUGE part of his fanbase seem to be more conspiracy based, whether it’s larries or people that believe he and his career is being suffocated by some unknown power that be, then add in his general “us against the world!” message to the fans, and a lot of them are VERY active, VERY motivated, VERY dedicated to like….proving they exist, i guess?? voting in fan polls and awards, liking everything he posts, almost as a way of reassuring louis that he has a fanbase waiting for him when he Overcomes whatever it is he’s meant to overcome, i guess??

3) niall - obviously i’m hugely biased here, but i feel like he wasn’t really taken ~as seriously during the 1d stans and in a lot of ways, he still isn’t today?? he was always kind of just the fun blonde irish one, he didn’t sing a ton, he was kind of almost like….comic relief for a lot of people?? so when it came to “the hiatus”, most people just expected him to chill out and play golf, and no one really expected him to really work on music. so when this town came out, it was a HUGE surprise to almost everyone?? so especially with that song, i think he got a good amount of 1D stan support, just because it was literally the FIRST solo song anyone had put out. then as more time has passed, each of the guys have put out their individual work, and the fandom gets more and more divided, it seems like there’s been marginally less 1D stan “for the sake of 1D” support. and because of all the work that niall has done with promo, especially after slow hands, it seems like he’s picked up a decent amount of GP fans, and because of his work in golf, he’s ALSO picked up quite a few fans and followers from that arena as well. and then i think there’s also a factor of more and more “former” hardcore niall stans have sort of….transitioned into the real world. they’re not as dedicated to voting in every fan poll or liking every one of his posts or spending every minute of their life on socials, but that also doesn’t mean they’re not still supporting him when it comes to the music and touring and the stuff that genuinely, ACTUALLY matters.

4) liam - tbh i feel like i have next to no pulse whatsoever on the liam fandom, and i would have guessed that it’s actually SMALLER than niall’s but that’s just gut instinct ghalskdj i do think he’s got a decent thing going with GP support, but that’s seemed to have possibly waned off since his first single so 🤷🤷🤷 whomst knows

5) zayn (if we’re counting him) - left 1D to the shock and awe and/or horror of many MANY people, so there was TONS of interest in what came next. that’s definitely waned a TON since tho, not helped at all by the fact that he’s barely done promo or performances since around the time his first album came out a few years back, and i’m not really sure what the current state of his fandom is either. 

something interesting to note as a theory i’ve seen floating around is the idea that a fanbase takes the lead of the person they’re stanning. niall is chill, so his fanbase is overall relatively chill. louis’ is very “us against the world” and the stans fucking act like it. harry…….doesn’t give them much of anything, so there’s a lot of projection about what they THINK he is, thus giving us lots of different types of harries ghalskdjf

[worldwidebt7]

“Han River, Seoul”

[MEETING YOU SERIES]

》Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

》Genre(s): [Fluff] [Reality] [Slow-Burn] [OneShot]

》Words: 13,338

》Rating: T

》 Warnings: Minimal Cursing

》A/N: Ah, my debut fic! I attempted writing fics before, but it never turned out quite right, so I hope that this will be received well~ It… turned out much longer than I originally anticipated… I’d like to say that it’ll be the longest in the [MEETING YOU] series, but I can’t promise anything. I always get carried away! I wanted to start with Joonie because… well, honestly it saddens me at the lack of Namjoon writings… Plus this was based off of a dream I had, and also written for a friend~ There’s lots of meaning for me in this story, so please read it well!

[SUMMARY] Sometimes the world creates the strangest coincidences— on a day where hoods are pulled up and eyes are cast down, your gaze meets a familiar stranger’s. In that fleeting moment, you thought perhaps you were dreaming; it had been no different from any other day…

For the first time since arriving in Seoul, you woke up without the blaring of your alarm. You preferred this— the natural awakening of your body rather than the jarring coercion of loud ringing frightening your senses to alertness. Today, the sun did not shine cheerfully through your window, nor did the birds chirp their happy songs through the air. No, today there was the gentle patter of rain against the glass at the foot of your bed, more than likely what had woken you up from your slumber.

You loved the rain normally— it was calming and it made the rest of the world smell sweet if only for a moment. But as you sat up, pushing your comforter from your body, you are painfully aware that you do not have a vehicle, and therefore must walk to work in the chilling rain. With a sigh, you tenderly step onto your bitter floor, jumping a bit at the feeling of it against your warm feet. You only pause for a moment though before you’re up and preparing for your day.

You had gotten your license to teach English overseas six months ago and we’re happy to accept a job in the heart of South Korea in Seoul. It had been your top choice after all, you most certainly weren’t going to turn it down. You had been living here for a little under a month now and w still in the process of adapting to life here.

At first, it was difficult— between jet lag and homesickness it had been rough getting settled. But when you began your job two weeks ago it had gotten a bit easier. You were able to connect with some of your coworkers, a few of them being from America or Canada. You were still not all that proficient at speaking Korean, so talking to your Korean coworkers was a struggle; plus you were still relatively new, so you figured they weren’t quite sure what to do with you yet.

So, you mostly kept to yourself, regarding your coworkers with respect when you passed them in the halls and promising ‘next time’ when you were invited out for drinks after work. You knew you should probably accept, make friends and all that, but you were still getting used to your new routine and couldn’t quite seem to shake the exhaustion that slipped over you at the end of every day.

Today seemed like an exception though, as you cheerily tugged your pants on, mouthing the words to “COFFEE” by BTS as it played in the background through your stereo system. You have always been a fan. Since 2014? Maybe even since their debut, you couldn’t be sure. You’ve loved them for as long as your memory would allow, and they were a large reason as to why you wanted to teach English in Seoul— not because you expected to meet them necessarily; but because they had introduced you to such a beautiful language and culture that you would have otherwise written off.

The Korean language was truly beautiful, you couldn’t deny. And their culture was so similar yet so different for that of the U.S. that it had intrigued you the moment you became exposed. You wanted to be a part of it— the culture. You wanted to know the language that so enraptured you. It was a struggle, yes, but you were willing to put forth the effort for the culture you had become so ensnared with. The sacrifice was easy.

Your playlist continued with features such as Zico, GOT7, and BIGBANG gracing your ears, but you had an aching for Bangtan this day, and you found yourself skipping any other artist to listen to their genius, moving to their beats and symphonies like it was your oxygen. You couldn’t explain it, the effect their music had on you. But it made you feel... at peace. Like no matter what else happened around you, this world you had created between BTS and yourself would always be there, waiting for you should things in reality get too much to bear. You loved it, this sanctuary.

You slipped on the matching blazer to your ensemble and hastily made your way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast— a simple berry smoothie with some toast. Simple it may be, but you were thankful to have just that. Money had been tight since moving to Seoul and, as much as you knew it would happen ahead of time, it was impacting the groceries you were able to buy. Rice, frozen fruits, and veggies were your accumulative diet for the last month. You couldn’t complain though— you were in Seoul. There wasn’t much more you could ask for if you were being honest.

After drinking your smoothie and scarfing down your piece of buttered toast you popped in your headphones to begin your commute to the school you worked at, not daring to step foot outside on your long trek without music. On a rainy day such as this, you chose your mellow playlist— consisting of songs such as “House of Cards” by BTS, “Body” by Mino, and “I” by Taeyeon. You had just recently added the entire “mono” playlist by RM, and it was the perfect music for a day such as this. You found yourself putting “forever rain” on repeat as you made your way down the path next to the Han River.

It wasn’t a bad way to get to work, you mused— seeing as you could’ve been forced to take a crowded bus through the city to get to your destination. Walking next to the river was cleansing as you made your way to the strenuous environment of your job. You were able to prepare your mind and soul before walking into what you knew was a class of young adults that really were not interested in you whatsoever.

The rain was light enough that you didn’t feel the need to bring an umbrella, but you still pulled the hood of your jacket over your head to try to salvage what little you did to your hair. You still kept your head up, peering at the uninhabited paths before you. Perhaps it was American confidence that kept your head high— you’ve noticed that it was customary to keep one’s gaze to the ground when walking in public here in Korea. There were some habits you just couldn’t shake.

The sound of the rain was just enough to drown out the sounds of the city, leaving you with only your music and the static noise of the rainfall. As wet as you were, you were at peace, happily making your way down the path next to the river, glancing at said body of water every once in a while, to soak in the sight of it swollen and angry against its banks.

After one particularly long stare you shifted your gaze back to the path before you, catching movement from your peripheral. Another figure stalked casually in front of you, hands in his pockets and sweatshirt hood pulled over a baseball cap. You could faintly see dark hair sticking out from beneath the cap, but there were no other distinguishing features visible from your viewpoint, as he also had a mask covering the bottom half of his face.

He was tall, you noticed— a full head taller than you at the very least, and a bit taller than you expected the average Korean man to be. He had a certain presence about him, as if he were born to stand out as he desperately tried to disappear into his surroundings. It was strange, you thought; why you would be so focused on a man dressed so plainly.

As you got closer you began to notice the shape of his face, round but narrow at the same time— clearly someone thin with a larger frame. His damp sweatpants clung to the swell of his thighs, displaying that he was fit and toned with lean muscle mass. You quickly pulled your eyes back to his covered face, not wanting to linger too long on his built lower half.

Now only feet away, you could see past the bill of his hat where the bridge of his nose laid, still mostly covered by the face mask he wore, but still more features than you were previously able to view, and you suddenly found yourself wishing to make eye contact with him, if only to nod in awareness at his presence instead of simply awkwardly passing each other as if you were former friends who were no longer on speaking terms. With this in mind, you continued to keep your gaze locked on the skin visible between his hat and his mask, hoping he’ll pick his head up in time for you to acknowledge him.

As if hearing your thoughts, before the last moment of passing you he looked up, eyes locking with yours and you stared meaningfully at his eyes. There was something... oddly familiar about them. Something you couldn’t quite place. Was he a student of yours? A coworker? You know you’ve seen those eyes somewhere before... but where? You scanned the rest of his face in urgency, trying to find the clue that pieced the puzzle together in your memory. And at the slight raise of his eyebrows you found it— you did know those eyes. You had seen them many times, but never in person, never right before you.

Your heart rate picked up in realization, and you’re sure your face showed it too as you watched his eyes widen a fraction more. He knew that you realized who he was, and he seemed... uncomfortable with that idea. Luckily for him, you weren’t one to gush or make a scene— even when it came to one of the biggest celebrities in the world. And as you tried to calm your raging heart, you nodded towards him, acknowledging his presence, and giving a silent promise to not reveal his identity, even though there were no other eyes to witness him strolling about.

The two of you never broke eye contact, and with only a moment of delay to ponder your gesture, he too was nodding back, a silent thank you for keeping his identity clandestine.

This moment between you two lasted mere seconds, but an eternity etched into your memory. It was almost like a dream— who, really, could say that they came into contact with one of their favorite artists of all time and had an intimate, wordless conversation with them? It was too good to be true. You had to have been mistaken. It couldn’t have been him... but you knew those eyes... those legs... that walk... that aura. Everything about him was exactly how you’d expected it to be when you imagined what it would be like to see him in person as you watched him on a screen. And the look of slight panic on his slightly exposed face when you assumed it was him was almost more than enough confirmation... No, no... you couldn’t assume. But... what if it really had been him...

Had you really just walked by Kim Namjoon?

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 You arrived at work with a mystified look on your face, walking to your desk with seemingly no purpose. Your coworkers watched you curiously, as it was the first time you had arrived with an unfocused glaze in your eyes. You tried to make a point to be focused on your tasks immediately as you walked through the doors of the school building, but today you couldn’t think much about school. You had a certain member of Bangtan on the brain.

Your coworker, and probably the person you considered your closest friend in Korea, Erin, approached you with caution. “Y/N...” she began, “...you, uh, you feelin’ alright?” She questioned with true concern. You blinked and looked up at her, broken out of your own world.

“Huh?” Was your only reply. She quirked an eyebrow at you.

“You good? You didn’t even say hi when you walked in...” she stuck her thumb over her shoulder, gesturing towards the door. Your eyes flickered to the doorway before resting on her gaze once more. You blinked a few more times before replying,

“Oh, uh, yeah...” you stated unconvincingly, awkwardly looking back at the bag you brought with you as you began pulling out binders and notebooks. “I thought I saw...” you paused again, rethinking your next statement. The reason Erin and you had become such good friends was because you had seen her Hoseok phone case and asked her about her love for BTS. You bonded immediately through the group and she became the easiest person for you to talk to, however she was quite passionate about the Kpop scene. If you told her you thought you saw Namjoon.... “Never mind. It’s nothing; I’m just being an air-head today.” You laughed, tossing your bag beneath your desk.

She continued to stare at you for a moment before shrugging and plopping down at her desk next to you. “Alright... but if you need to talk to someone, you can always come to me, you know that right?” She picked up a mug from her desk and took a sip of what you could only assume to be coffee. You smiled at her— she had a very forward personality, but she had s kind soul, and for that you were thankful. Without her, you would probably never have found a semblance of ‘home.’

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 The rest of your work week had gone by without incident, but you found yourself constantly dwelling on the “what if’s” of your encounter a few days before. Now it was Friday, and as you walked to work, as you had every other day this week, you wondered if you would run into the mysterious figure in the baseball cap and face mask. You hoped to get a better look at him this time if by chance you did, but you knew that there were slim odds of encountering him a second time if he were who you thought him to be. If it had been, with his busy schedule, it was probably a rare moment in time where he hadn’t been required to go to the studio. Still, you hoped for it— to be the only one who walked past him knowing his identity, keeping that secret safe within the confines of your heart— you couldn’t have written a better fan-fiction yourself. Just the thought of it made your heart flutter.

Ah... but... perhaps you were getting ahead of yourself. It wasn’t as if you were completely sure it was him in the first place, and you couldn’t forget that you hadn’t actually spoken to him— as much as your silent conversation had left an impact on you, he had probably forgotten all about you at this point.

You tried to shake the ridiculous swell of hope rising in your chest, walking forward with purpose as you reviewed the lesson plan you had created for the day in your head.

There were many other people present on the path next to the Han River this morning; the sun had finally broken and dried the puddles of the rain storm from the other day. Joggers, cyclists, and other commuters passed you now and then, never making eye contact with you as he had that day. Perhaps it had been an oddity, since it had only been the two of you on the path that day. Or, perhaps, it really had been a dream. It had happened so fast, you only remembered the moment of your eyes meeting with precise accuracy, as you would when waking from a dream. The rest had become a blur in your mind, no matter how hard you concentrated on the details.

You found yourself lost in thought as you unknowingly caught up with a figure that had been walking in front of you. It wasn’t until you were nearly right on top of him that you realized there was another presence there. You jolted out of your trance just in time to about flat-tiring the poor man, but not with enough grace that you didn’t manage to trip over your own feet.

“Shit—” you cursed under your breath, reaching out to grasp something to center you once more. Unfortunately for the individual in front of you, he was the only thing around to brace yourself on, and your small hand fisted into the back of his sweatshirt, tugging it down a bit. You could feel him freeze immediately, and for a moment, only for a moment, you were thankful he didn’t keep walking. And then you were nearly too embarrassed to speak. You released him once you had your bearings and began stuttering like a fool.

“S-s-sorry! Ah! No— uh—" your brain scrambled to remember the Korean word for ‘I’m Sorry’ as he turned to look at you. Just as you were able to peer at his face you blurted out what you hoped to be the right phrase. “미안해...요...” you trailed off as you saw that familiar stranger’s eyes, looking at you, wider than before, and your voice caught in your throat in panic. Only one thought coursed through your otherwise blank mind: ‘Oh dear God…’

You’d done it this time— your absent-mindedness had just caused you to embarrass yourself on an unimaginable scale; you had just grabbed the back of, who you believed to be, Kim Namjoon. Fear freezing you at the imminent doom you currently faced, your heart felt as if it were going to burst within your chest and your stomach twisted uncomfortably. Why fate would be so cruel to you was beyond your understanding and you suddenly had an overwhelming need to flee as his gaze burned down on you, not in anger, but in a similar look of awe. Legs tense and shaking, you manage, somehow, to take a step back away from the figure, somewhere in your mind realizing that remaining any longer in this awkward state would subsequently cause a scene and you didn’t want to draw attention to the idol who simply only wanted to blend in at this moment.

You straightened yourself, trying to look relaxed (and surely failing), before giving a slight bow, murmuring another ‘sorry,’ before taking a step around him to continue on your way. His gazed followed you as you passed him slowly, eyes trained on your heated, red face— a furious blush that you were certain had moved over your ears and down your neck. You dared a peek up to make eye contact with him again, nodding as you had the other day. He blinked as if the small gesture had broken a spell before nodding back, then quickly turning on his heel and pulling his cap further over his face, walking in the opposite direction he had been going before you had nearly run into him.

It was a chilly day, yet you found yourself sweating profusely, and even as you left the path that paralleled the Han River to cross the street leading into the city, you couldn’t calm your raging heard that hammered almost painfully behind your ribs. You could hear the blood rushing through your ears— had that really just happened? And why were you reacting like this when you weren’t even completely sure that it was the RM that you saw twice now? As much as your brain tried to reason with you, your heart betrayed all logic; somewhere in your soul you were painfully aware of those eyes. Eyes that you knew well, despite never bearing witness to them in real life.

Being a fan of BTS, it seemed, was never a casual affair. Their intense presence on the internet made them impossible to avoid, and, soon into your rise as an ARMY, every time you logged onto any sort of social media you were (pleasantly) bombarded with their faces. As an international fan originally, you were used to only being graced by them through screens— a sad reality that all international fans were forced to live at some point in time. But you were glad to appreciate them in whatever method you were provided, even if it meant never seeing them in person.

As a result, you had become overly familiar with their faces, but as it was the general downfall for most of the fandom, you weren’t exceedingly embarrassed. You had never expected to meet them anyway, so there had never been any harm intended. You had no delusions about someday falling in love and dating the world-wide idols, and, as nice as it was to daydream of an impossible scenario such as that, you did not pine after them with romantic affections— they were your idol group to love and support with respect. Plain and simple.

Still, the sudden meeting of the leader of your beloved group had your heart racing in a way that you could not have prepared for, and you wondered if somewhere along the lines your love for them had become deeper than you could have ever imagined. You cursed at your over-emotional tendencies as you forced your feet to move faster towards your destination.

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 Erin was yet again staring at you with interest. You had walked into work frazzled-looking; your cheeks painted in pink, breath coming out in small gasps, and a distant look in your eyes that screamed distress, but in what way your friend could not tell. The rest of your coworkers were oblivious to our state until you slumped down against your desk, hands on your head and foot tapping relentlessly as your eyes remained unfocused. Unable to continue watching you, Erin rolled over to you in her office chair and raised an eyebrow.

“Alright, what’s up?” She said, leaning her elbow against the arm of the chair and perching her chin in her hand. “This is the second time this week you’ve wandered in looking freaked out, what’s going on? It’s like you saw a ghost.” You internally laughed at the comment— it felt like you had seen a ghost. There was no rational explanation for either meeting you had with the man currently consuming your thoughts. You sighed and leaned back in your seat, hands falling to your lap.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…” Not that you were particularly willing to let slip that you had run into Kim Namjoon twice yet; you felt like you should keep his secret walks along the Han River to yourself for the time being. You still weren’t one-hundred percent sure it was him for one, and on the other hand if it really was him, you would feel responsible if he were to get swarmed by fans while he was trying to relax should you tell anyone.

At your response, Erin merely shrugged and began scooching back over to her own desk. “If you say so. But if it starts getting worse, tell me, alright? You’re starting to freak me out…” She mumbled, beginning to type on her computer once more. You gave another heavy sigh, before turning your computer on as well to begin working. As you began reviewing your lesson plan for the day, you felt the corners of your lips begin to turn up.

As stressed out about your encounter this morning as you were, you were also irrepressibly ecstatic. And this underlying happiness had your heart beating in a different, more pleasant way. How many fans could say that they’ve met their idol casually on the streets not once, but twice? What’s more, you felt incredibly fortunate to have been aware that it was, in fact, an intimate moment in his life. A moment where he was no longer RM of BTS, but just Kim Namjoon, walking alongside the Han River in Seoul with his thoughts. How often does he get the opportunity to do that, you wondered? He was always in the public eye— always the leader, the speaker, the face of the most well-known Korean boy group in the world. How many rare few moments in his musical career has he gotten to be “Kim Namjoon,” and you had witnessed two of them. You felt entirely blessed for those moments.

You realized that you had a sort of obligation to keep those moments to yourself now. Who were you to ruin the time Namjoon had to just be Namjoon? You glanced at Erin thoughtfully. She’d be pissed for sure if she ever found out you kept this from her, and you would be punished for it in one form or another (she’d most likely begin by screaming animatedly at you and hitting your arm repeatedly to get her point across before making you buy her dinner). You shrugged defeatedly, accepting this fate should she ever find out. You wanted these secret moments to stay secrets for a while longer.

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You had spent the entire day on Saturday writing lesson plans for the upcoming school week cooped up in your apartment. Erin had tried to convince you to go out and get drinks with her and your other coworkers, but you still weren’t feeling particularly social yet and resigned to staying in that night and mindlessly watching some drama with a takeout dinner. Thankfully you had been able to figure out how to set up English captions on your television, even if they weren’t entirely the most accurate. Not that you were truly paying attention— You really only wanted background noise to your constant daydreaming of the peculiar instances where you found yourself face-to-face with someone you only ever dreamed of seeing in person. You went to bed that night feeling excited for the upcoming week, hoping that you would have another opportunity to see the masked man with the intense, familiar eyes.

Your Sunday morning was the same as all the others that you had spent in Korea. Coffee before nibbling on a slightly fancier breakfast of yogurt, fruit, and granola, then some light exercise in the comfort of your own living room. Gyms in Korea were outrageously expensive for your tight budget, so even if you would have liked to go, you simply could not afford it. After stretching you got dressed and prepared yourself for a quick trip to the grocery store to buy essentials that you had run out of over the course of the week, which meant another walk along the Han River. You had never been so excited to buy groceries in your life.

You grabbed your empty backpack and keys and skipped out the door, more pep in your step than you’ve had in months. You knew being hopeful would probably leave you disappointed in the end, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to see him again, even if you would only simply nod in his direction as you had the first encounter the two of you had. Rationally, you tried to calm yourself,

 ‘Don’t get too excited; you may not see him ever again,’ you reasoned, ‘there’s no excuse to get upset if you don’t see him.’ Still, you knew you’d be disappointed.

The trip to the store was without incident as you walked along the river glancing about at the faces that surrounded you, looking for those familiar eyes among them. They hadn’t been there of course, as you guessed, and you lost a bit of your vigor on your way home. You had bought simple things like vegetables, apples, coffee, ramyeon, and a small jar of peanut butter, all of which you put in your backpack save the apples. It was getting close to lunch time and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to make it back to your apartment.

Thus far on your way home, you haven’t had much better luck finding those eyes. Thankfully, your hunger was a small distraction from the disappointment swelling in your chest. You knew better than to expect things, but who wouldn’t become hopeful when a wistful encounter turned into something seemingly more than just chance? You sighed and opened the plastic bag holding your apples, digging through it to find a piece of fruit that seemed appealing to you at that moment. As you pulled one out, your clumsiness got the better of you as you nearly dropped it.

“Shit—” You say as you fumble with your damned lunch, barely saving it before it becomes a bruised mess on the ground. You grumbled under your breath as you lift it to your mouth to take a large bite, and as you do so, you happen to flick your eyes over to a figure sitting on a bench on the side of the road. And you’re met with those eyes again. You pause mid-bite to openly stare, realizing he had just seen you struggling with a piece of fruit. He stared back at you with recognition clear in his eyes and a hint of… amusement? You look away, taking in the large mouthful of apple with a bit of struggle and chew quickly before swallowing. Once you’re no longer impaired with apple in your face, you look over again, pink faced and awkward as you adjust the plastic bag in your hands. He has yet to take his eyes off of you and you feel as if your body is on fire.

This time, you offer him a small smile along with your typical nod, which is all you expect in return. The response you get, however, takes you by surprise. You had already started walking again when he quickly ripped his gaze from yours to look at the surroundings and you were just about to look away as well, figuring he was done with you. But at the last moment, he locked eyes with you again and slyly slipped the mask down his face, stopping your heart for more than a beat. He was more breathtaking in person than you could’ve ever imagined, and the small smile that graced his plush lips in response to the one you sent him was almost too much to handle, his dimples becoming visible from the action. The fangirl within you squealed in delight as it was finally confirmed that you had, in fact, been running into the RM, but you did your best to stay composed on the outside. You couldn’t, however, stop the gleam in your eyes and your smile spreading brightly across your face even more.

The corners of his lips twitched up a bit more at your expression and he gave you a nod as well before pulling the mask back up to cover his face once more, shoving his hands in his pockets and standing from the bench. You almost froze in your spot at the movement, but when he turned to walk in the opposite direction as you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Your pace had slowed a bit in the shock of it all, and you could feel your face burning from the smile that was carved into it.

It was him— and he had willingly given you his identity in the open. And that smile! You never knew smiles could be like that! And it was a smile you never thought you’d get to see. You couldn’t stop the excitement running through your veins at the recollection of his face— his dimples, his pink lips turned up into a smile, the perfect bridge of his nose… you repeated it over and over again in your mind, inscribing it into your memory forever. It was the most innocent, yet intimate moment you had ever experienced. It almost felt like he trusted you in some tiny way, and you felt blessed by this small thought.

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 Your Monday had flown by in a blur of excitement, the events of the previous day keeping you on cloud nine for a full thirty-six hours. Erin was disturbed to say the least— you had looked like you were on the verge of a breakdown just the previous Friday, and now on Monday you seem to be a completely new you, filled with energy and spunk that the other woman had yet to see from you. She eyes you suspiciously the entire day, asking you what had made you so chipper on such a gloomy day such as Monday.

You wanted to tell her, you really did, but a larger part of you wanted it to stay unknown. This was a moment that you had shared with Namjoon, a moment that no one else needed to be privy to. And you were perfectly content with that, the memory becoming like your own happy pill to give you energy when you felt you were lacking.

It was the end of your workday now, and Erin still refused to let up on your blissful state, saying it was unnaturally cheerful.

“Seriously Y/N,” she pressed, “what the hell happened? Your mood swings are seriously freaking me out!” The two of you were back at your desks in the teachers’ office space, shutting down your computers and packing your things. You looked over at her and rolled your eyes, chuckling at her dramatics.

 “It’s really nothing, Erin.” You told her, repeating what you had been telling her the entire day. She was a persistent one, that was for sure. But you were stubborn enough to withstand it. She let out a groan and threw her head back, crossing her arms and looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. You had just about tuned her out when she let out a loud gasp, making you jump. You turned to her to see her staring at you with wide eyes. “What?!” you asked in exasperation.

 “You met someone!” She exclaimed, and you froze. Quickly, you realized she meant someone as in a ‘romantic interest’ and not the leader of world-wide idol group BTS, so you let out a sigh that turned into a relieved laugh.

 “No, Erin, I didn’t meet anyone.” You shook your head and slung your backpack over your shoulder. She eyed you with a crinkle in her nose, seemingly not believing you.

“Well somethings going on with you…” she muttered, gathering her things as well. “I’ll figure it out eventually.” You laughed again as the two of you made your way out of the building. You parted ways when you turned to the sidewalk that would take you to the pathway parallel to the Han river. You said goodbye, Erin promising to figure out your secret as you wandered off with a wide smile on your face. She seemed adamant, but there was no way she could guess what actually happened. You fell asleep that night as happy as when you woke up.

The next morning, you woke to the familiar sound of rain against your window. Gradually coming out of the grogginess of sleep, you slowly smiled, remembering what had happened the last time it rained. The grey skies seemed more welcoming than they ever had before, and the rain seemed to call you out from beneath your blankets as you sprung out of bed. You threw on your favorite playlist and began to get ready for the day, singing and dancing about your apartment, not even pausing when you needed to brush your teeth. You were a ball of wonder that could not be contained, and, honestly, you couldn’t remember ever feeling this happy before in your life. And it was all because of a small smile, from a familiar stranger.

You made your way out of your apartment, still bopping to the music playing through your headphones as you made your way outside. If it wasn’t for the face that you were on your way to work and needed to keep up a professional appearance you wouldn’t have even put your hood up this time, finding it a perfectly pleasant idea to feel the rain on your face. You stepped onto the path leading you to work down the Han River and you found yourself alone on the path as you had the previous week when it was raining. Seeing this, you had little reserve when it came to humming and skipping along to the songs that played, randomly singing out the lines that you knew in English and Korean alike.

So lost in your own world, you didn’t notice that someone had come up beside you, keeping pace with your chipper steps. When you did notice though, you nearly jumped out of your skin, releasing a squeal and flailing your arms a bit in surprise. Your head whipped around and you stared wide-eyed at the man next to you, knowing immediately who it was from attire alone. You halted in your tracks, still in awe at what was happening, and after a few steps, he slowed and looked back at you, clearly amused at your antics. He continued walking, but raised an eyebrow at you, as if asking you if you were going to continue on as well. You quickly follow, wordlessly following him until you were in-step with him again. You both broke your gazes, him looking forward while you took to looking at your feet. It was silent for a moment, and you turned down the volume on your headphones so you could hear his footsteps falling next to you.

Again, your heart picked up a wild pace, violently aware of his close proximity and the fact that he was voluntarily walking beside you. You tried to walk naturally, but you found yourself having difficulty remembering how to breathe properly, let alone how you normally walk. What was happening right now? Were the two of you really walking side by side like… like friends? Your brain began getting fuzzy, but your trance was quickly broken by the sound of his deep voice—

“You recognized me right away, didn’t you?” –speaking perfect English nonetheless. You suppressed the urge to choke in response to hearing him speak, and simply snapped your head around to look at him with eyes the size to saucers. Your breath hitched as you tried to formulate a response when he spoke again, “Thanks for not… uh…” he waved his hands around a bit as if trying to describe an action as he thought of a particular word. Realization lit up his eyes as he continued. “…freaking out.” He finished, looking down at your shocked face. You saw the cloth of the face mask shift a bit and you assumed that he was smiling. You swallowed your nerves best you could to try and answer him because— dear God— Kim Namjoon was trying to have a conversation with you and you’ll be damned if the best you could do was stare at him like a deer in headlights!

“Uh, y-yeah, I mean, n-no problem.” You squeaked out with some success while managing to slide a smile onto your lips. Was it just you, or was the rain suddenly boiling hot? Like really, really hot? He gave you a small nod before releasing you from his gaze and you let out a shaky breath as you looked at the path in front of you again, trying to get your heart to beat regularly again. He gave you no opportunity to recover, however.

“So…” He started again, hesitating a bit. You looked back up at him; he wanted to talk with you more? “…you know me…” He said, as if it wasn’t an obvious fact already at this point. “…can I…” He hesitated again, looking at you briefly before shyly turning away. “…know… you…?” Holy shit— what kind of magical alternate universe was this? You blinked at him, catching onto the timid tone of his voice, as if he was uncertain of his wording or the question itself or possibly both. Either way, your face immediately flushed red. Kim Namjoon was… bashful? You couldn’t comprehend how absolutely endearing that was and it took you a little longer than you would have liked to formulate a response. You felt the energy around him tense in nervousness and you realized that you had just been staring at him silently. You responded in panic—

“I’m Y/N!” You said quickly, and you watched his shoulders relax a bit at the sound of your voice. You swallowed again, not knowing what else to say, but determined to make him feel at ease with you. And that’s when the word-vomit began; “I-I’m sorry for being so awkward. It’s just that I’m— and you’re— and— y-yeah…” You wanted to smack yourself in the face for not being able to form a proper sentence. “I j-just… never thought that… uh…” You were suddenly nauseous as you felt the embarrassment rise into your throat. ‘Shit.’ Your mouth was abruptly dry and you babbling making you cringe visibly. “I-I just w-want you to b-be comfortable…” You said in a voice barely above a whisper. You glanced back up at him to see him looking at you with a quirked eyebrow.

“Comfortable?” He repeated— not in a ‘what does this word mean’ kind of way, but in a ‘what do you mean’ kind of tone. You bit your lip in contemplation, still not fully believing that you were having an actual conversation with Kim-motherfluffing-Namjoon.

“I-I didn’t— don’t— want you to feel like you can’t come back here,” you gestured to the river with you hand, “just because I know who you are…” You chewed on your lower lip some more, feeling his gaze on you still. “J-just because you’re… well… you’re human too… so, you don’t have to worry about me.” You finally get out in spite of your scrambled thoughts. None of what you have said to him has been a proper sentence, and you’re not even speaking Korean— you’re speaking English, your native language, which you’ve been speaking your entire life. How is this single man able to erase your brain by simply walking next to you? “I won’t tell anyone you walk here.” Finally, a complete sentence. You let out a breath and smile at him.

He blinks at you before he looks forward once more, also letting out a breathy sound that resembles a relieved laugh, the cloth of his mask crinkling again as if he were smiling. He fidgets with the bill of his cap as he cutely watches his feet and you feel your heart swell at the sight. You can’t stop your smile from growing into a wider, more relaxed state as you let out a light giggle. You knew he could be cute, but for him to be abashed like this in front of you… was he trying to get you to fall in love with him?

Before you knew it, you were where you needed to veer off towards the city, and you regarded the sidewalk with utter disappointment. You looked over at him, still surprised that he had walked with you all the way here. Lightly clearing your throat to get his attention, you pointed at the sidewalk as the two of you approached it.

“Ah… t-this is me— I-I mean this is the way I need to go.” You internally groaned at yourself; why couldn’t you stop stuttering? You watched as he eyed the adjacent sidewalk in front of you and then returned his gaze back to you, only to nod a bit, stuffing his hands into his pockets. You nodded back with an unsure smile, trying to find a way to will yourself away from the beautiful man that just walked with you all the way through the part of your commute next to the Han River. Your resolve to go to work was wilting quickly. “I-I…” You shifted to face him completely, getting a good look at his frame for the first time since he walked up beside you. You smiled warmly, “I’m really happy that I got to talk to you.” And you genuinely were. This small conversation that you had with him was more than you could’ve ever asked for. He let you see a bit of himself that is saved for his life outside the cameras and the lights and the cheering fans. And for him to give you that… it was a feeling indescribable. You gave him the slightest bow to show your appreciation, one last smile, and then turned around to begin the rest of your commute to work.

But with your back turned, you had been unable to see him nervously shifting on his feet and rolling his shoulders. He messed with the cap under the hood of his wet sweatshirt again, clearing his throat before quickly speaking.

“Uh—!” He started, loud enough to catch your attention as you whipped around at the sound. He stood a few feet away, looking rather uncomfortable with one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing his neck in a nervous fashion. He looked at the ground for a few seconds, “Can we… can I…” he cleared his throat again, then finally looking at you, those familiar eyes boring straight into your heart. “…can we… walk… together again…?” He sounded so uncertain, so nervous, so small, that your heart nearly burst. Did he realize what he was doing to you? From the looks of it, he clearly didn’t; he seemed just as anxious as you were. Your face picked up color again as you blinked, coming out of the trance he put you in. And you couldn’t help the smile that broke out across your face.

“Yes! Ah—” You shifted a bit in embarrassment from your outburst, glancing down at your feet before looking at him with a softer, yet no less bright, smile. “I-I’d like that.” A silence fell between you, but it was far from uncomfortable as you watched his eyes crinkle up and his mask crease from a wide smile that you knew was gracing his full lips. Again, your heart fluttered and your smile turned into a full grin that you ultimately failed to contain. You were even more unwilling to go to work now, but you knew if you didn’t then you’d end up standing in front of this perfect man grinning like a complete fool. So, against everything screaming for you to stay with him, you gave him a friendly wave, which he curtly returned, before turning and nearly bouncing away in happiness.

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 When the next two days passed and your new— friend?, acquaintance?— was nowhere to be found, ‘disappointed’ was nowhere near a big enough word to describe how you felt. Not that you were expecting to see him every day, but your hopes had soared to a new altitude and was now impossible to keep in check. Kim Namjoon, the Kim Namjoon, wanted to walk with you. Although you were still uncertain as to what that included— would you also be talking? Getting to know each other? Or did he really just mean walking next to each other when you made your way to work? One thing that worked in your favor with not seeing him the last couple days was that you now had an opportunity to mentally prepare yourself for whatever these future meetings between the two of you would offer. You played scenarios in your head, acted them out in the mirror, and practiced ‘normal’ things to say to him.

You didn’t want to treat him like a celebrity— that first time the two of you spoke had caught you completely off-guard and you were a little dissatisfied in yourself. You didn’t want to play yourself as a fan talking to their idol, you wanted to be able to talk to him as just a regular person that you met along the Han River. Yes, a regular, beautiful man that made your heart want to leap from your breast. Totally normal.

And suddenly it was Friday again, and your morning routine was mundane as usual. You ate your plain breakfast, dressed in your plain work-clothes, and walked out of your plain apartment to see the usual plain road you take next to the river every day. And there, sitting on a plain bench was a not-so-plain man, dressed in jeans, a high-neck sweater, and an un-zipped hoodie while donning his usual face-mask and baseball cap. You inwardly swooned, seeing him sitting there staring out at the water.

You slowly approached, but were unsure as to what was expected of you. Do you walk right up to him? Or do you acknowledge him as you pass and let him catch up? Oh God, you didn’t prepare for this part of it! Why was something so simple so complicated in your head?! As you were caught up in your thoughts, your eyes locked on to the figure on the bench, he by chance glanced up, catching your gaze in the deep of his eyes, which were much less a stranger’s now.

At your advance, he stood from his seat on the bench to wait for you. Your face flushed in response and you sent him a smile, feeling more and more nervous the closer you got. He really was something else; he wasn’t dressed in an eye-catching fashion, or standing in an attention-grabbing way, but the space around his form had a pull about it, as if everything around him gravitated towards his being, including you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his, even as you strode up beside him and paused, smiling shyly. He smiled beneath his mask as well,

“Hey,” he said, his deep voice sending electricity through you and throwing your heart into overdrive. You gave a small giggle— and God you couldn’t believe you giggled in front of this man— as you shifted slightly trying to regain your composure.

“Hey,” you said back in a quieter, lighter tone. You were suddenly wrought with nerves as you tried to think of literally anything else to say to him. What happened to all of those lines you practiced in the mirror of your bathroom? Gone— your mind was a complete blank. “Ah— s-shall we…?” You wanted to crawl under a rock and disappear. However, he just nodded and gestured outwards with one of his hands, indicating that you should lead the way. You smiled gratefully and took a step forward, Namjoon following suit. For a moment the two of you walked in silence. You would have started the conversation if you were sure he wanted to talk. Or if you could fish through enough of the static in your brain to find a comment comprehensible enough to actually speak. If you had been sitting, your foot would have been going into fidget-overdrive. It was then that the man beside you cleared his throat and slipped his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Um, so…” He didn’t look down at you this time, but as you peeked up at him you noticed a pink tint on the visible skin of his cheeks. “You’re American?” he asked, even though you guessed he probably already knew that you were. He must’ve asked simply… because he wanted to talk to you. Your heart stuttered and you let out a breathy laugh,

“Yeah,” Finally, a response where your voice didn’t shake. “I’m from New York.” You weren’t sure what else to say, seeing as the last time you tried to fill the silence between the two of you, you had ended up babbling incoherent nonsense, and you weren’t particularly looking to repeat the same humiliating performance. So, you put on a tight smile and shot quick glances up at him, hoping he’ll catch your hint. He bobbed his head a bit in a nod, registering your response.

“I really like New York.” He replied, then silence again. You both began to fidget at your own awkwardness and it was then that you heard a deep sigh followed by yet another grunt of his throat clearing. “Sorry…” He said, reaching up with his left hand to rub his shoulder slightly. “I wanted… to talk to you, but…” He let out a breathy chuckle. “…this is awkward, isn’t it?” He shifted his eyes to you for a split second before gazing back at the road. You didn’t know if you should feel bad, or elated that he felt the same way you did. You didn’t want it to be awkward, it’s just that you yourself was awkward and it seemed to manifest every time you tried to make a good impression. So, in light of the awkward atmosphere, you decided to play off of it, hoping some humor at your own expense would lighten the mood.

“Not as awkward as me almost falling on top of you the other day.” You cringed lightly at the memory, but let out a soft laugh and grinned through it. You began to relax when you heard him mirror your laugh and saw his face mask crinkle again. You let out a sigh of relief that turned into another laugh, finally feeling as if you’ve said something right.

“I was so… shocked,” He said, and you could hear the smile he still held on his face. “I thought a fan had grabbed me.” He shook his head as if to illustrate how unnerved he had been at the time. You smiled and bit your lip,

“Technically, a fan did grab you,” You shrugged playfully, slightly raising one of your eyebrows when you looked up at him. His deep laugh hit your ears again, more pronounced this time, and you felt your cheeks heat up and your heart skip at the sound. You couldn’t help musing on how beautiful it was.

“You’re right, you’re right,” you could see a playful glint in his eyes when he peered down at you, and you were glad to see that he was relaxing too. “But since it’s you… it’s okay.” If your face hadn’t been pink before from the sound of his laugh, it was brighter than a cherry-red Ferrari at the utterance of those words. Your heart thudded painfully against your ribs and you found yourself short of breath. Oh sweet Jesus— was he doing this on purpose? He was an idol, it was his job to know how to rile up the fans, but something about the way he stared at his feet daring only to glance at you for no more than a split second at a time made you believe that he was indeed being sincere. And you were sure you were about to have a heart attack. You exhaled a silent breath to sedate your heart’s nervous thumping before speaking again.

“I really am sorry about that…” As if you hadn’t already made it obvious from the profuse apologies that had left your lips at the time of the incident. You were of mostly clear mind now, so you could better express your remorse for having accidentally yanked on the back of his sweatshirt that day. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” You fiddled with the bottom of your shirt, trying desperately not to re-imagine that time. He laughed again, and you found yourself wishing that your days could be filled with that sound.

“It’s okay,” the smile under his mask was obvious now, and a light blush dusted at his face. “You were… your Korean was… cute.” He muttered, shrugging as if trying to act like the statement was nonchalant, but the almost unnoticeable twitching of his fingers in the pockets of his sweatshirt as he nervously picked at the inside fabric told you he understood how those words could be interpreted. And it set your body ablaze. You could feel the fire rushing through your veins as your palms began to sweat and your body tensed, trying not to show your reaction to his sudden comment.

“I-I’m not very good at Korean yet…” stammering as usual, your earlier confidence streak came to an abrupt end when the word ‘cute’ slipped through the lips of the man walking casually beside you. He looked down at you, and you’re again made aware of just how much taller he is of you.

“It’s good I know English, then, huh?” He teased, and God your heart should have stopped. How you were still breathing was beyond you and— wait, you were breathing right? As if to check your lungs, you discretely but a hand near your diaphragm, relieved to feel it shift beneath your fingers shallowly. Quickly nodding in response, you smiled at him before realizing you were at your destination to depart from the road along the Han River. Your destination where you were forced to part from Kim Namjoon. He noticed as well and slowed his pace as the two of you neared your veer-off point. You hesitantly looked at your feet and came to a stop in front of him, turning to face him in order to part. “Ah, this is where you leave…” He muttered, glancing around a bit as you nod at him. He pauses a moment before reaching up and sliding his mask off his face and under his chin, letting the elastic bands behind his ears do their job. Your voice caught in your throat at the sight of his face bared to you once more and you tried to soak in the sight of it once more. Surely someone so beautiful couldn’t be standing in front of you, smiling down at you as if you had known each other all along?

Your eyes snapped to his mouth when his tongue flitted over his lips to moisten them. Sweet Mary Mother of God, he wasn’t thinking about kissing you, was he? Why were you thinking about kissing him? He’s an idol for the love of God, there’s no way he’d kiss you! You felt panic rise in your chest, but it was immediately squelched by his soothing baritone voice. You weren’t much too surprised to find a twinge of disappointment when a kiss didn’t come, but your daydreams expected too much from reality. “I’ll… see you again?” He asked, as if he were nervous that you wouldn’t want to spend time with him once more. Your eyes lit up at the question and you sent him the brightest smile you could muster.

“Yes!” the cheer in your voice almost made you cringe, but you were pleased to see his face brighten at your answer. Ah… could he be cuter? Such an expression on such a manly face was more than you could handle and you felt your brain turn into euphoric mush at the sight. He embarrassedly looked down at his feet, trying to rein in his smile before slipping the mask back up his face to rest on the bridge of his nose. He looked back at you, his eyes still shining. You were doing no better trying to control your appearance as you laughed lightly, waving at him as you took a few steps towards the path. He pulled his hand out of his pocket to return the wave and it was then that you slowly turned around to continue your walk to work, where you knew you were going to be more than a little bit distracted.

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 Over the next week and a half, you saw your new, secret idol friend often on your way to work. It wasn’t every day, not that you had expected it to be, but the days where you did see him were better than the last. You would step onto the path at around 6:15am every morning and immediately look to the bench that you had found him waiting on after he had asked to walk with you. Some days it was vacant and other days there were strangers relaxing in the brisk morning air. But on the days you loved most there was a familiar figure, wearing familiar clothes, with a familiar baseball cap and face mask covering his stunning features. He would look up at you when he noticed your approach and stand, patiently waiting for you to reach his side before falling into stride with you.

He always waited for you on that bench— it had quickly become your marker on whether or not you would be graced by his presence that day. And you always hoped to see his lean figure lounging back looking out at the river or hunched forward tinkering on his phone as he awaited your appearance. It didn’t take you long to recognize the bench as the one he had been loitering on the day he saw your small skirmish with the apple, and had even brought it up in one of your conversations:

“I remember this bench,” you had said to him thoughtfully during one of your morning walks. “You got to see me nearly fist fight an apple.” You shook your head laughing, even though you were embarrassed by the ordeal still. He laughed too, remember the shocked look you had on your face as said apple hung out of your mouth.

“I remember.” A deep breath escaped his lungs. “Actually—” he started, fidgeting a bit and looked over at him with a puzzled expression. “…I was waiting for you… that day too…” He lightly cleared his throat out of awkward discomfort and his cheeks were painted over in pink. Needless to say, yours were too.

 You had also mentioned to him one time that you also walked this same path Sundays when you were going to purchase your groceries for the week, and he put forth the notion that he would meet you on Sundays as well. You told him that he didn’t have to once learning that some weeks it was the only day off he was granted, but he simply shrugged, explaining that it was relaxing to be with you. You pretended to hesitantly accept his offer then, excitement growing within you as the two of you set a time and you couldn’t help but think that it sounded much like planning a date. You met on the next three Sundays at the same time.

To say that you were not just walking, but living on cloud nine was an understatement. No daydreams or fantasies could have prepared you for the events of your life in Seoul. Erin still badgered you about your constant chipper mood, demanding to know who it was that was making you so happy— you had even gone out with her and your coworkers a few times in the last couple of weeks. Only on Friday nights though; Sunday mornings were reserved and you didn’t want to have to be nursing a hangover during one of your walks with Namjoon. One night your friend had managed to get you intoxicated enough that you almost spilled your secret, but your heart was thankfully stronger than your brain that night and you had simply held out a drunken finger to her lips and shushed her, shaking your head and saying in slurred words “It’s a secret.”

That indefinitely set her off for the next week, and she constantly hounded you, trying to guess who it was. But the truth was far more unbelievable than anything the imagination could come up with, so you always simply laughed and managed to hold off her curiosity until the end of the day. It wasn’t until recently that you realized that you had already been in Korea for three months; two of which were filled with memories of walking alongside the Han River with the BTS idol.

Over the course of your meetings, you had become accustomed to the sound of his voice, his stride when he walked, and small mannerisms that made Namjoon, Namjoon, and after your initially star-struck mind had cleared enough to notice these things, you never truly felt like you were talking to an idol. He was just a man that you were slowly getting to know, and slowly falling in love with.

The moment you felt the twinge in your heart become a full-blown ache, you knew you were in trouble. Early-on in your meetings, you had made yourself promise that there would be no romantic feelings attached. You should have known better than to make empty promises to yourself. How could you not fall in love with him? Especially once you had the opportunity to learn about him yourself on a personal level— it had been inevitable.

You had to constantly remind yourself to quell your feelings for him each morning before you knew whether or not you’d be seeing him that day. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable with obvious affections towards him. Whatever fragile friendship the two of you had created the last two months would surely be over if he caught any indication that you were interested in him as more than a friend.

There were times though that you saw a small glimmer on his face that made you wish that he felt the same towards you. Wished, hoped, that he could possibly regard you in the same way. Alas, you knew better. Any rational human being would know that Kim Namjoon is an exceptional man with exceptional talents and who deserved an exceptional woman. You, much to your chagrin, were not exceptional. You knew that you were not a good fit for the beautiful idol, no matter how much you longed to be. And even in the small moments where you see the little gleams within the dark depths of his eyes when they looked at you, your brain was quick to remind you of this fact and the disappointment set into your gut immediately.

You never let these emotions deter you from enjoying your time with Namjoon, however. Every moment with him was pure bliss and you never once found yourself dwelling over your disappointment when in his company. He was an easy fellow to talk to, to laugh with. He was witty, funny, and awkward in the most endearing ways a person could be. His personality meshed alarmingly well with yours; almost like the two of you had been destined to be friends. And you were content with that.

Today was Sunday again, and at 7:30am you made your way to the bench where you know he’d be waiting. You hummed happily, wondering what the two of you would be talking about today on your slightly longer trip to the market. You had allotted about twenty minutes of your morning before leaving your apartment to do your routine emotion-check to make sure you had the ability to mask them well enough to keep them from the man you saw sitting comfortably on the wooden bench overlooking the river. You smiled as you picked up your pace to a light jog before stopping in front of him where he was still seated. ‘Odd,’ you thought, ‘he’s usually standing before I can get to him.’ You tried not to let it bother you too much, but you had a habit of over-thinking things. You tried to push your concerns to the back of your mind, telling yourself that everyone has their off-days. Luckily it wasn’t too long after you planted yourself in front of him that he looked up at you with smiling eyes, mask crinkling in a similar fashion, and stood up.

“Ready?” He asked, to which you smiled and nodded. As the two of you turned to begin your stroll, you took a quick once-over at his attire for the day, noticing that it wasn’t his usual laid-back lounge clothes. He was in a long black sweater that reached about mid-calf and beneath it he wore a simple white tee that was tucked neatly into black ripped jeans. A statement belt adorned his hips and clearly expensive grey Timberlands gave his look a clean feel to it. His usual baseball cap was replaced by a black snapback with ‘YOUTH’ written across the bottom of the bill, leaving the only thing you recognized was the white mask covering the better part of his face. He looked good— very good. You almost pouted when you tore your gaze away from him. Still, dressed like that, was he going somewhere?

“How was your morning?” He asked, breaking you out of your thoughts. You looked up at him, trying to register the question he just asked you. Your mouth moved before your brain could come up with anything cleverer—

“Good, the usual,” You almost groaned at the simple response. It’s been two months, why were you regressing in your communication skills with him? But as you glanced back over at him, you took in his outfit again. “You’re dressed nice today,” you spoke, blushing a bit at your own compliment. “Are you going somewhere?” You blink at him with curiosity when he pauses longer than usual. He looks hesitant to answer, but gives a light sigh when he seems to realize that he can’t avoid having the conversation.

“Yeah, actually,” He started, his shoulders slumping a bit as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I… ah…” he tilted his head to the side and his brows furrowed a bit. He still hasn’t looked back at you. “…I wanted to tell you sooner, but…” Another sigh. “…we’re… I’m leaving. To America for a tour.” He finally glanced at you, the look in his eyes slightly solemn as he tried to express his melancholy about the situation. You felt your heart drop into your stomach like a rock at the thought of him leaving, and you knew that your face mirrored your distress. You tried to recover quickly by sending him a small smile.

“That’s good though, right?” You tried to cheer him up by pointing out the pros of the circumstances. “You’ll get to see your fans in America— they love you.” You almost wanted to add in ‘me too,’ but decided strongly against it. “Plus, you can do things that you can only do in the U.S.” He nodded in agreement, but he still seemed conflicted. You hummed a little, trying to come up with another positive point, but another question nagged its way to the front of your mind. “Um… how long are you going to be there?” And now you were hesitant with what you said, mirroring his uncomfortable guise and looking at the ground.

“Ah… a month…” Another rock hit your gut. Four weeks without your walking buddy? Four weeks without the person who made your heart beat erratically with adoration? Four weeks without Kim Namjoon? You tried your best to hide your distress, but knew you were failing at it when he withdrew his hand from his pocket to rub the back of his neck.

“Oh…” was all you could say. You tried to breath normally, but panic was setting into your bones and you tried to calm yourself by releasing a shaky breath. “W-when do you leave?” You almost didn’t want to hear the answer.

“This afternoon…” He gazed at you apologetically. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” You were upset, how could you not be after finding out that he was leaving for a month in mere hours? Though to be fair, the two of you hadn’t known each other for very long. It wasn’t like he necessarily owed you an explanation, and you understood that. It was his courteous nature that made him tell you in the first place, and that same nature that lead him to feel apologetic for only telling you now. You kept your gaze to the ground, almost afraid that you’d start to tear up should you see his face. When did you become so emotionally involved with this man?

“It’s okay,” your voice was quiet, but resolved. It was okay, really— it wasn’t like he had much choice having to leave, and it probably wouldn’t have been easier for you had he told you earlier if you were being honest. You peeked up at the road in front of you, seeing where the path took you upwards on a flight of stairs towards the direction of the grocery store. This is where you left him. But this time it wasn’t for a day or two. No, today, this is where you would leave him for the next thirty days. Or more, even. Who knew when the next time the two of you would be able to see each other? Or if you’d ever see each other again?

Thinking about it was doing you no good, but you knew that the time to say goodbye was here. You chewed on your bottom lip as you worked up enough nerve to turn to him and he mirrored you, hands still in his pockets for the time being. You both stood in silence for what seemed like ages, neither one of you wanting to sat those dreaded words. As each second ticked by, you could feel yourself becoming more and more emotional and you knew you would burst into tears in front of him if you didn’t walk away soon. You looked at the ground again as you pushed pebbles around with the tip of your shoe.

“I guess…” you started, hoping that your voice wouldn’t crack or get stuck in your throat. “…have fun in the states…” You smiled at your shoes, wishing that you had the courage to send that smile to him. Wishing you had the courage to tell him that you didn’t want him to go. Wishing you had the courage to tell him those taboo feelings that squeezed at your heart this very moment. But all of those things would make his leaving harder, and with one last small surge of bravery, you took a step around him, muttering, “…I’ll see you around…” even though you knew you wouldn’t. Goodbye was just too hard to utter.

As you ascended the concrete stairs leading away from the Han River and Kim Namjoon, you didn’t see that after only mere steps, said idol stopped walking and turned back around to face the direction you were walking. You didn’t see the nervous shuffle of his feet, or the way he lifted his snapback briefly to run a hand through his dark hair in frustration. And if it weren’t for the hurried footsteps following you up the stairs, you certainly wouldn’t have seen him climbing after you.

“Y/N—” He said in a flustered tone. You whipped around to look at him, shocked to hear him so close to you. He was taller than you, but being a few steps behind you left him at eye-level, and you were able to easily peer into his brown orbs, widened slightly in panic. You were both frozen for a moment, mutually a bit shocked at his actions. After the silence dragged on for a second too long you spoke up,

“Y-yeah?” was all you managed. You heard him inhale deeply before he reached up and yanked the mask off his face to have it rest beneath his chin. He had a hint of worry in his eyes, but the over-all expression he showcased to you was serious, confident; the way you imagined he would look on stage. He had been so goofy and bashful most of the time with you until this moment, this was a new expression. And it sent heat to your core immediately.

“I…” he swallowed, “I want to see you again… keep seeing you… after I get back…” Another wave of shock numbed your body— this… did he really say that? You opened your mouth as if to reply, but you quickly shut it when you realized that no sound was produced. He continued, “Can I… meet you there again?” ‘There’— you knew he meant the bench. His bench. You continued to stare.

“Y-you…” your stuttering has seemed to come back in full force much to your disdain. “…yes…” You managed to squeak out softly. Yes, you wanted that. You wanted that more than anything. You wanted to ask him about his tour, how it went, if he had any difficulties, if he had fun. You wanted to keep learning about him, laughing with him. You wanted to keep falling in love with him, even if he never returned your feelings. “Yes; I want to see you again, too.” Your voice was firmer this time, fractionally mirroring the look on his face.

Relief washed over the concern in his eyes at hearing the response he had hoped to hear and you had been glad to give it to him. A small smile spread across your lips as the corner of his turned upwards. And you thought that you could contently stare at his smile forever, but in a split second, you were seeing stars instead.

You hadn’t seen it coming— it was too abrupt, too unexpected, and you were caught completely off guard. He had taken one quick step forward, leaning towards you in the process and catching each of your hands in his before pressing his plush lips to your cheek. Your mind reeled at the sudden and new development, and all you could focus on was the warm tingle that spread from his soft lips to your skin.

He, Kim Namjoon, was kissing you— granted, it wasn’t a kiss that could be shared between you, but it was one that he was giving, which was just as precious an act. The combination of the kiss and the way his hands gently held yours seemed to say ‘thank you’, ‘I’ll come back for you’, and ‘you are precious’. Your heart was just about to leap from your chest when he detached from your cheek; but he never let go of your hands. He stared into your eyes, abashed at his own forwardness, but his gaze was intense nonetheless. You couldn’t feel it, but you knew that your face was sporting a strawberry-esque color and a shocked expression. Your lips twitched into a smile. This was, to a degree, an affirmation of the impossible— this extraordinary man, a man of many talents, of many names, but, ultimately still, one Kim Namjoon, harbored affections towards you. To what extent, you couldn’t be sure, but this was more than you could had ever imagined possible. And you didn’t need a confession of undying love; an act as simple as this was bigger than words.

“I’ll do that properly next time…” He said, his voice deeper and smoother than it had been a moment ago and it sent chills through your body, the implication of ‘properly’ going over your head in your shocked state. “I have to go,” He said, giving your hands a light squeeze. “I’ll see you soon.” You gave little squeeze in return before he stepped back and his hands slipped from yours. He smiled at you; a pure, genuine smile, with warmth flooding his eyes before he tugged the mask back up his face and turned around to descend down the stairs. He looked back at you only once when he got to the bottom and gave you a small nod, much like the ones the two of you had exchanged in the beginning of this rather odd relationship. You smiled brightly at the gesture and nodded back, after which he gazed at you only a moment longer before turning and walking away.

You watched him leave, studying his retreating figure and recording it in your memory. You never thought it would have ended up like this, your life in Korea. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought a situation like this possible; not for you. Yet, here you were, watching Kim Namjoon walk away after placing the most meaningful kiss to your cheek and promising a future reunion.  ‘Next time…’ you thought to yourself. Ah, what would ‘next time’ hold here at Han River, Seoul?

[END]