#you can like them or whatever but please do not forget the actual background themes that shows the consequences of historical colonialism

[angelfaangs]

For the wolfwalkers people

Edit: Sources of my claims and who I mean to be criticizing can be found here:

https://at.tumblr.com/princessnazario29/first-of-all-please-do-not-edit-the-message-of-my/bs1xo2371952

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 27 - You'll Be In My Heart

Summary: Eddie and the boys fight their homesickness when they're on the road for the summer.

Word Count: 964

Rating: T

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader

Warnings/Themes: Friendship, fluff, allusion to sex, discussion of marriage

Note: Alright final Saturday of this event, I'm both sad and excited, it's been a really great one. For this day, I'm going back to my fondest series, my baby, The Store Manager Verse. It's specifically set before the proposal in Longevity and it very much explores how Eddie got the idea to propose to Store Manager at all.

And I might've fucked up the timeline and my own fic canon so just...if you notice something, shhh no you didn't.

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn’t start on Day 1, you can still join!

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

August 1990

The summer of '90 was a special one.

It was Corroded Coffin's first real life tour. Well, not really.

"Actually," you told them when they broke the news to you, "you're forgetting about the Independence Day Tour of '87."

"We didn't make t-shirts for that one, sweetheart," Eddie teased and dropped a kiss on the top of your head before diving into the details.

It wasn't a true tour in the sense that they'd pack up the van and hit the road and never look back until the tour was over--that would require them quitting their jobs for a time, something their wallets desperately couldn't handle. But a few days off here to go to this festival? A few days off there to enter into this Battle of the Bands? That was doable.

It was as close to a tour as they were gonna get for a little while, and it was gonna help them get further in their music career.

It also prepared them.

Being away from home for a few days at a time prepared them for an inevitable week or month or year that they could potentially face if their star grew brighter.

Eddie quickly realized, though, how much he would miss you when that time came, because he missed you terribly now.

He started seeing you everywhere he looked. Foods he thought you might like to try, love songs that reminded him of you. Someone at one county fair even did a cover of Beth, which he would argue was your song. And at one fest, there was a booth with hand drawn postcards featuring cute fuzzy animals with nefarious settings in the background.

It started with one of those.

A postcard of a kitten with a big purple bow sitting in a haunted forest. Purple for Claires, he explained when he presented it to you on their return home. You gushed over it, said that you loved it, and it went up on the fridge.

Until the next time the guys were out of town.

Next it was special chocolate caramel candies with thick sea salt on top from a booth that sat next to the main stage. They had probably eaten more chocolate than any other food during that trip; you had to try it.

Then a big over stuffed teddy bear--

"It's an Eddie Bear, actually." He pointed to the denim vest it wore. "See?"

--that he won playing a game of ring toss.

A huge tin of assorted fudge from Mackinac Island and a promise to take you with next time they went.

A necklace made of special stone beads that supposedly helped with everlasting love or something; he'd gotten to choose a tarot card when he bought it. He got the two of cups, whatever that meant.

Each and every gift that Eddie brought you when he was away was special. Some big, some small. Some made you ooh and aww, some made you cry because of how much you missed your idiot boyfriend, one even earned him...well...lets just say his bandmates, who you shared a duplex with, made themselves scarce for the evening.

But it was the last stop on the tour that brought maybe the best gift, the most meaningful. It made Eddie really stop and think because...well, this was the stop that they were debuting a new song about his parents and his childhood and how the future wasn't set in stone and you couldn't change things that were bad for you, even with the best intentions.

Marriage is a Death Sentence.

So it was ironic that the first thing to catch his eye would be a ring.

Not a typical engagement ring, not a diamond or really anything big and shiny at all. It was strange and artsy and interesting but when he saw it there at that little crafters booth...he just thought of you.

It was a weird thought. Jarring.

And it scared him.

He turned tail and walked right out of the booth, stopped at a stand where they sold little critters made of recycled wire and bought you a tiny porcupine. There, done, gift bought, no need to think of it anymore.

But he couldn't stop thinking about the ring for the rest of their time there. Not when they performed, not when they ate lunch, not when they packed the van at the end of the night to go home.

He hadn't given marriage much thought when he was younger. He liked dating, liked dating you. You never brought it up, neither did he. But then you took him as your date for Jen's wedding a few years back, and the two of you talked about it and of course you were on the same page. Couldn't see yourselves doing the whole commotion, no suits or dresses, no desire to have your families and friends stare at you for hours.

Not to mention some of those vows were just heinous.

No wonder Al and Elizabeth Munson were destined for heartbreak if they vowed to honor and obey...blegh.

So marriage? No, not at all. Immediately no.

But you? Forever with you? You were his best friend. Wouldn't say his soulmate, that was Jeff obviously and you had no problem with that. But you were...you were you.

So the answer was a resounding yes. Always.

Eddie ran, faster than he'd run in a long time if ever, through the booths as everyone packed up for the night, to the little crafters stall from earlier.

"I was just about to pack up," the vendor laughed as Eddie caught his breath. "You made it just in time."

It was fate.

He pointed where the ring still sat, as it if was waiting for him, and said,

"I'll take it."

[ganondoodle]

even if i didnt love botw as much as i do, totk drives me nuts bc, similarly to pokemon, this series is so SO SO full of potential, they have so many games they can pull from, theres so many themes, characters and worldbuilding thats just left to rot, you dont need to connect anything with a chain to old titles, you dont need to bring back any things that already had their ending, but PLEASE harness at least a fraction of all this!!!! and they just refuse to do it beyond shallow references

totk jsut drives it all home to me, bc this isnt just the next game in the franchise, but a DIRECT SEQUEL no 10 years apart from botw, yet they cant even, they REFUSE to even keep the continuity with its OWN lore it established in botw together, and that, i think, is what truly makes me so insane (derogatory) about totk

it PROVES they do not care, they dont care to build on anything of the lore of old titles beyond references in form of amiibos or whatever, they dont even care to make a sequel to their most successful game in the franchise coherent with its own lore

botw established a captivating detailed world full of potential, while lacking in active storytelling, it had environmental storytelling, characters and ideas that were the perfect ground to build on-

and then they do away with it bc idk .. they want you to build mechs and make videos of it that go viral and thats all they care about or something

shiekah tech? forget that existed character being the character you know? act as if you are seeing them for the first time just like they are lame story? dont think about that just be distracted by the epic presentation of it lore the previous title established? forget that, all that matters is what is here and now beloved character from old games beign brought back? hes a new guy and has no background and no lore and just sits waiting for you at the end to have a flashy fight with references from old titles and their lore? just here for nostalgie bait, dont you remember? you LOVE this series, now give me 70 bucks for a glorified DLC that ruins what you loved about the series and makes you realize that nothign matters and nothing is interesting anymore

you are supposed to take it all at face value, to not think about anything, to see a character say something and just go with it, and forget it the second its over, be distracted by good music and pretty visuals, but dont think about, dont think about anything but what is directly said to you like you have no critical thinking skills, forget there was a game before this one, only the one you play matters, empty your skull and dont let yourself feel anything but what the game tells you to feel

if they dont even care to make the sequel to their most successful game actually build on the previous title, dont even care to keep their continuity of two games supposedly directly happening one after the other in tact- maybe they never cared, and all the meaning we thought we saw them build into their games was all accidental and meaningless

and that is absolutely soul crushing for fans like me to discover

its a game. its not a story, its not a world, its not themes, its not characters, its not lore. its a product made to make you pay money, not to make you think about anything.

[infaclouduk]

Why Your Website Should Be Built On WordPress

If you are involved in website development or have an interest in creating your own website, chances are you are familiar with WordPress. Renowned for its versatility and user-friendly interface, WordPress has become a popular choice among individuals and businesses alike. In this post, we will explore the numerous advantages of using WordPress as a website building tool, highlighting why it is an excellent decision for your web development needs.

What Is WordPress?

Started off as a blogging platform, WordPress has now turned into a super handy website builder and content management system (CMS). It’s perfect for folks who aren’t tech-savvy because it comes with ready-to-use code and lets you tweak things easily. Plus, it’s free! So, it’s easy on your pocket too.

Did you know that almost half of all websites are built on WordPress? That’s right, over 43% of them! It’s a favorite among website builders and we totally get why. The sky’s the limit with WordPress – from crafting a fully functional site to blogging your heart out, or even setting up an online shop with eCommerce software. It’s got it all!

Some of the big shots are actually using WordPress. We’re talking about: Spotify Newsroom, Microsoft News, Sony Music and Time Magazine!

Is WordPress Safe And Secure?

WordPress is often compared to Fort Knox when it comes to website builders. It offers password protection for things like folder contents, and you can even add an SSL certificate for added security. However, it’s important to remember that keeping your site updated and your passwords secure is crucial to ensure maximum security. Updates not only help fix bugs but also protect against potential security threats. And here’s the best part – you can further enhance the safety of your WordPress site with a wide range of available plugins.

How Flexible Is WordPress?

WordPress is super user-friendly and perfect for anyone, whether you’re a total newbie or a pro. It’s like a blank canvas that allows you to create your online presence just the way you want it. You can keep it simple and make beautiful blogs effortlessly, or you can take it up a notch and transform it into a full-fledged eCommerce platform, complete with an awesome catalog of products that will make your customers go wild! The possibilities are endless with WordPress!

How Customisable Is WordPress?

WordPress is like a magic box, ready to be molded any way you want. Whether you’re building a unique website or just need a spark to ignite your creativity, WordPress has got your back. It’s packed with thousands of themes that can be tweaked for any kind of website – be it a portfolio, an online store, or even a podcast. You can play around with everything on these templates – switch up the colors, change the background or mix and match layouts to make your site one-of-a-kind!

Oh, and let’s not forget about the plugins that are just waiting for you to install! These little gems can work wonders by adding extra functionality to your website, making it even more awesome than before. From enhancing the user experience with interactive features, to boosting your site’s performance and security, these plugins have got you covered. So go ahead and explore the exciting world of plugins – there’s something for everyone!

Once we wrap up a website and hand it over to the client, they have complete control over the backend. They can freely add more content, tweak layouts, and essentially do whatever they please with the website going forward. It’s like giving them the keys to a car and letting them cruise along on their own digital journey. They become the captain of their own web ship!

How Affordable Is WordPress?

One of the best things about WordPress is that it’s completely free to install on any hosting package from InfaCloud. So, whether you’re on a tight budget or just looking for a cost-effective solution, WordPress has got your back. Not only is it easy on your wallet, but it’s also super user-friendly. You don’t need to be a coding wizard or have any technical expertise to get started. With its intuitive interface and drag-and-drop functionality, you can create and customize your website with just a few clicks.

You can also take advantage of our team of expert website designers who can create a more advanced WordPress website design for you. We will design your website, making it easy for you to edit. If needed, we can also provide custom development and coding to ensure your website is exactly how you want it!

Author Bio:

InfaCloud have been invested in the website design and hosting industry since early 2011. We bring our vast experience and knowledge directly to you. Whether you need state of the art hosting or a new bespoke wordpress build, InfaCloud will always have your back.

Elevate your online presence with Infacloud, your go-to website designers in Peterlee, offering creative website design. Serving Hartlepool, we stand as the best website designers in York, providing affordable web design in Darlington and Middlesbrough. Our expertise extends to creative web design in Peterlee, while we offer specialized WordPress support services in Sunderland, and WordPress design in Durham.

Enhance your brand with Infacloud's expert beauty website designers in Sunderland. Elevate your online presence through our professional web design in Middlesbrough. Trust Infacloud, your premier choice for Durham website designers, to turn your vision into a stunning reality.

[royallyjoon]

nephilim (quatre)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural creature au

yandere! ot7 x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, violence, manipulation

undoubtedly, the boys have opened their arms and hearts to you. but have you done the same? life has only gotten more stressful for you, and the closer you find yourself getting to them, the more you feel as though you are changing, and the more you push yourself away. you refuse to break. never forget: one’s hubris could be their hamartia. forge your lonely path with conviction. after all, it may not be yours for much longer. the victor or the fallen--exactly who is it that stands to lose the most?

——————————————————————

For a long time now, you had feared that your relatively peaceful days in Ichabod were coming to an end, and recent events only further proved your point. 

Mana’s forewarning carried its weight well, as Aemilia seemed dead set on making an enemy of you. She went from hardly acknowledging your existence to cursing it. 

She would never lift a finger to do her dirty work, oh no, for how could the delicate Augustus princess stoop so low as to take the garbage out herself?

No, she used her puppets Brooklyn, Constance, and whoever else she managed to sink her claws into in the student body to torment you. 

They tripped you in the halls, stole your belongings, and essentially made it difficult for you to bleed into the background like you used to.

Luckily for you, you happened to gain some formidable allies.

Mana was there to tell Aemilia’s lackeys to back down, and they wouldn’t dare approach you with Jimin around. And he happened to be around more often than not, strangely enough.

The three of you managed to form a strange alliance during this time. Your best friend was still extremely cautious around Jimin and his siblings, as were you, but they had gotten somewhat closer, which made you glad. You didn’t want to be the bridge between them, as you thought that would be tiring and more than you could already handle. 

Still, the two were only human. They wouldn’t always be there to defend you. Nevertheless, you were quite capable of defending yourself. 

You didn’t give Aemilia the satisfaction of breaking under her pressure. You held your head up high despite the amounts of rumors flying around the school about you, even if they made you want to split your own skull open. 

The student body, in part, was divided. Half of them wanted nothing to do with you, considering how you were associated with both the Augustuses and the Kims. They were wary of your actions, claiming you were steps away from meeting Wylynne herself. 

The other half whispered about how tired they were of Aemilia’s antics and tantrums, given that this was not the first time she had behaved like this toward another student. 

Two weeks passed by, and neither you nor Aemilia was giving in. The strawberry blonde was beside herself, and so were her poor friends. Every day that she failed to teach you a lesson was another day she went raving mad in private.

Soon enough, her patience would snap. She would find herself going over the tipping point, but the question remains: Who would stand to lose the most when she got there?

It was another stressful day for you at Ichabod Academy as you sat in your lively homeroom. 

Mana rested on your desk, laying their head on their arms. You figured they would be uncomfortable, considering the way their body was twisted around in their seat, but your friend was drifting off without a care in the world. 

You slumped in your chair, looking every bit as done with life as you had recently felt. There was so much you had to be on the lookout for, and today was no different. 

You blinked tiredly and looked at your best friend. You then decided to lay your head on top of Mana’s, who did nothing more than let out a grunt, and closed your eyes in an attempt to get some rest as well.

When Jimin returned from the restroom, he internally cooed at the sight. 

Your head started rocking back and forth as it tilted dangerously on top of Mana’s. Ensuring he wouldn’t wake you, the boy sat you up and leaned your body on him so that your head was resting on his shoulder. 

He smiled down at you in relief. Your classmates took note of his treatment and started to whisper about the two of you, but one look from him and the room quieted.

Unfortunately for you, the peace was short lived. There was a loud crackling over the intercom that shook both you and Mana awake. 

They sat up and glared at their surroundings in annoyance. You opened your eyes in a flash, desperately hoping it wasn’t your first period teacher. 

“Don’t worry, Ms. Diivi isn’t here yet.” Jimin reassured you. “It was just the intercom.”

You nodded in thanks and covered your yawn with the back of your hand.

There was some more crackling and finally, your principal began to speak. 

“Good afternoon, students. I apologize for the interruption, but this is urgent.  Constance Pierre is to report to the principal’s office immediately. I repeat, Constance Pierre to the principal’s office. Thank you for your attention, and please continue about your day.”

You squinted in confusion. 

Constance has never been called to the principal’s office before in her entire life. Even when she was causing trouble for you and other students, the teachers paid no mind and others were too afraid to report her. What could have happened?

The sound of feet pounding against the floor got closer and closer until you could hear it outside your classroom door. A blonde blur passed the room, disappearing as fast as it had come.

“Pierre...why does that name sound familiar?” You murmured to yourself.

“It’s the name of the freshman that went missing.” Mana said as they stretched. “Chance Pierre, I think.”

Your eyes widened in understanding.

“He was-is Constance’s little brother.” They corrected their statement.

Jimin glanced at your shocked expression and suppressed a dry laugh.

Quite frankly, he could care less about the Pierre family. Constance has been nothing but a nuisance to him and his brother.

He’d been willing to overlook the rumors of how annoyingly outstanding and clever the freshman was because he knew his little brother would always be better. 

But after the blonde went so far as to start pestering you, he used the information he’d gathered against Chance in its opportune moment. And he had no regrets.

You snuck a peek at Jimin and saw a familiar, cold decisiveness plastered on his face. It was the only expression you’d been seeing from him for a while now. Any time someone brought up the missing student, Jimin would go frostily silent. 

It reminded you of the difference between the two of you, just like his reaction--or lack thereof--the morning of Chance’s disappearance had.

You figured he was just uncomfortable talking about the situation and was carefully avoiding it, just as he had with you and Mana that first day you spent lunch together.

At least it wasn’t Mom or Mana, you thought to yourself.

“They must’ve finally found him.” You commented, distracted by your incoming thoughts.

Aemilia’s family is specifically in charge of hunting down anyone who can be perceived as a “threat” to the Kim family. Brooklyn Hayes and Constance Pierre, however, acquired social immunity for themselves and their families as the girls are so close.

Or so you thought.

Constance’s disheveled appearance the morning Chance went missing made much more sense, then. She was worried sick about her little brother, and one of her closest friends didn’t even bother warning her or her family. 

You shuddered. Just how many people would Aemilia sacrifice? How far would she go, just for her sick sense of what was right?

You had no intention of finding out.

By lunch time, the rest of the school had heard exactly what happened to poor Chance Pierre.

The fourteen year old boy was deposited in the family’s living room, returned out of the blue just like all of those who came before him. 

His mother had stepped out for a short moment to go grocery shopping and returned to find her bloody mess of a son, who she then quickly rushed to the hospital.

He was covered in bruises, had a broken arm and leg, several broken ribs, and permanent blindness in his left eye. All things considered, he is one of the lucky ones.

His family was just grateful that he was returned to them still breathing.

Whatever the message was, the Pierre family had received it loud and clear. And so had the rest of the town.

No one is allowed to leave Ichabod. Not without being stopped by Death herself. 

Another school day had come to an end, and you walked out the building with Mana and Jimin at your side. 

Seeing how the end of the month was coming up, you and Jimin decided that it would be best if you went over to his house to work on the project again. The beginning of the presentations were not far off and it was about time you completed your research.

It didn’t take long to convince your mother. The both of you found it easier for you to go over to the Kim residence than to ask Jimin if he could come to your home.

You sat on a granite bench outside of the entrance. Mana stood on your left, leaning up against the wall and Jimin sat to your right, perched on the bench. 

You were waiting for Driver Bin and Mr. Waye to show up when you heard a familiar voice call out.  

“(Y/N)! Jimin hyung!” You watched as Taehyung came running out the school doors, Jungkook trailing calmly behind him.

You waved at the two and gave them a tired smile. Taehyung made himself comfortable on Jimin’s lap as Jungkook stood along the wall near Mana.

“Did you have a good day, (Y/N)?” Taehyung hummed, eyes teeming with concern.

“Yeah, it was fine.” You said, struggling to actually mean that statement. 

Mana gave you a knowing look and huffed out a laugh under their breath.

It’s not as though you almost had your things stolen twice in one day.

This morning, Hoseok saw you chasing a junior who was running away with some of your notebooks and folders in hand. 

His charming smile dropped and he gave her a grim look. All he had to do was extend his hand and she placed the items in his palm, which he then promptly returned to you.

Then one of your classmates stole your laptop while you were at lunch in an effort to wipe the thing. Had it not been for Namjoon walking into the library and catching them in the act, you surely would have lost all of your information. 

Thankfully, he safely retrieved your laptop from your classmate. You made a new password for all of your devices and resolved to never let your bag out of your sight again.

“I’m glad you’re coming over again, though! Maybe we’ll get to watch a movie or play some games together.” He flashed you a boxy grin and you sent him a small smile in return.

“Jungkookie’s got loads of games,” Jimin added, peeking his head out from behind Taehyung. “He’s such a hoarder, he rarely lets us play with him. I’m sure he’d let you, though.”

Jungkook punched Jimin in the shoulder, looking at the ground in embarrassment. “Hyung, what are you saying...”

 “Yeah, that sounds nice.” You sighed absentmindedly. “I could do with a break from school and homework for like, the next month.”

The youngest brother flushed, peeking up at you through his bangs. “If you wanted to, I’d be happy to play with you.” He mumbled as he smiled.

“Oh, there’s Driver Bin!” Taehyung called, hopping up and pulling you and Jimin to your feet. 

You hugged Mana goodbye as the black van pulled up to the curb. Just as you turned to follow Jimin, however, someone knocked their shoulder into yours. 

“Oh, sweetie. You should really watch where you’re going.”

Brooklyn stood in your path with her arms crossed. Over her shoulder, you saw Aemilia and Constance standing a short distance away.  They looked as though they were about to make their way towards Aemilia’s family’s car. 

Of course, she could have just walked around you, but why would she ever let you off easy? 

The strawberry blonde wore a satisfied smile and she leaned over to whisper something in the ear of a haggard Constance. Constance merely blinked and nodded in response. 

You smiled at the girl in front of you. “Of course. It was all my mistake. I’m so sorry, Brooklyn.”

You stepped closer as though you were going to confront her and grabbed her arm, pulling her toward you before she could step back.

She fought against you but that only made you grip her arm tighter. You could feel your nails start to dig into her skin.

 “I’m sorry that you’re nothing more than a means to an end.” You murmured in her ear.

The brunette stilled.

“I’m sorry Aemilia couldn’t care less about you or your family.”  You continued, speaking in a low voice. “I’m sorry that your so called friend sees you as mere disposable goods, or should I say...a useful little puppet?”

You released your grip on her arm, bringing your hand up to her shoulder instead and giving it a few consoling pats. “Didn’t your little sister just get the lead role in the school play? I would hate for you to be the next Constance...”

You looked toward the blonde just to emphasize your point and Brooklyn’s eyes followed your gaze.

Constance was staring, unseeing, at the ground, nervously clinging to Aemilia like a lifeline. She was strangely quiet and obedient...like a dog in fear of disobeying its master.

Brooklyn looked back and forth between you, Aemilia, and Constance in utter shock. You sent her one more sympathetic look before moving around her to follow the Kims into their car.

The remaining students whispered, wondering about what you said and in the corner of your eye, you saw Mana tilt their head inquisitively. You knew they had questions, questions you would have to answer later.

You bowed in greeting to Mr. Bin and entered the car behind Jimin like last time, Namjoon going in after you.

Mr. Bin closed the door and walked around to the other side of the vehicle in preparation to leave.

“I’ve never seen Brooklyn look so shocked,” Taehyung said from the backseat. He put his hands on the headrest behind you and poked his head around it. “What did you tell her?”

You shrugged. “Something that could hopefully put her life in a different perspective.”

“I don’t know how you deal with those girls, (Y/N).” Jimin said. “Aren’t you tired of the tricks Aemilia’s playing?”

“Don’t you just want to get rid of them, once and for all?” Taehyung asked, tone darkening.

You shrugged. “For whatever reason, she’s currently obsessed with me-”

The reason being all of you-

“-and of course I want her to stop, but I would never give her the satisfaction of letting her think she won. She’s petty, and a bully.”

You texted your mother an update on your location and locked your phone, looking up at your classmates. “She just needs a reality check. I’d be happy to give it to her every now and then.”

Part of you felt like trying to care for Brooklyn was pointless, especially after the way she treated you. The other part of you felt you were killing two birds with one stone--you were opening her eyes and isolating Aemilia in one go.

While Namjoon and Hoseok nodded in understanding, the rest of the boys couldn’t help but worry. 

They all followed Namjoon’s advice religiously in fear of scaring you away. But what if your independence only made it harder for them to be able to be there for you? What if you never came to them on your own for assistance?

...They would simply have to make it so that you had no other choice, would they not?

But the circumstances were not yet that dire, so for now, you had nothing to fear.

——————————————————————

The ride into the woods was pleasantly silent, and this time you made sure you didn’t fall asleep.

All too soon, Mr. Bin drove the van past the wrought-iron gate and up the impressive driveway. You weren’t as nervous as you were your first time visiting their residence, but you still had your guard up.

The boys bound up the wooden steps and opened the front door, piling into their home. You entered last, quietly closing the door behind you. 

As you were taking off your shoes, you spied a pair of nude slides next to all of the black ones.

Jungkook noticed you looking at them and smiled. “Mother prepared them for you. She saw you wearing hyung’s pair the last time you came over and ordered them after you left with your mom.”

“That’s so kind of her,” you said, slightly in awe. “I’ll be sure to express my thanks.”

You never thought you’d reach the day where Mrs. Kim would welcome you so readily into her home, but here you stood corrected. 

“(Y/N), let’s go!” Jimin called to you from the stairway.

“Coming!” You lay your shoes at the door, slid your feet into the slippers, and went to catch up with him, climbing upstairs. 

The library had hardly changed since you were gone. The shelves were just as dusty and dilapidated as before, and the couch was just as comfortable.

You maintained a safe distance away from Jimin this time as well so he wouldn’t get the opportunity to pull any tricks.

You spent the majority of the afternoon on writing the paper together, as you both had agreed. A few hours later, you finished and decided to get a head start on the presentation.

“‘The strength of a Nephilim depends on which angelic order their parent hails from,’” You read out to Jimin as he added to your shared document from his laptop. 

“‘The sheer majority, however, were parented by those in the third sphere. This was the lowest order consisting of the angels most concerned with the affairs of humans: Principalities, Archangels, and Angels.’”

“Got it.” He claimed, typing out a couple more sentences. “I think we have enough for the background information, but Mrs. Hargrove also wants us to discuss the religions they come from, their abilities and their weaknesses.”

You hummed. “Angels are mentioned in a multitude of religions, but Nephilim are really only mentioned in the Hebrew Bible, according to sources.”

“So that question shouldn’t be so difficult to answer,” He smiled, marking it. 

“Nephilim are really strong,” you said from behind the book cover, fascinated by the information it held. “They appear as ordinary humans on the outside but possess celestial powers bestowed upon them by their angelic parent. They’re faster and stronger than ordinary humans, and are excellent at reading people.” 

Jimin took the book from you and glanced further down in the book to see if he could find more specific powers for your project. 

“Oh, I found something here.” 

You opened your laptop and prepared to type as he read. 

“It says Nephilim possess super strength, longevity, the power of flight, healing abilities, teleportation, telepathy, angelic wrath, illusions, the ability to drain someone’s life force, and telekinesis.” He raised his eyebrow in awe. 

You chuckled as your hands raced to keep up with his words. ��Illusions, the ability to drain someone’s life force, and what?”

“Telekinesis, the ability to move things with your mind.” He said. 

“I could use that all the time--like, the other day, I was waiting in front of the student council room to return the uniform I borrowed.” 

You recounted the story for Jimin as he peeked up at you. You were too engrossed in typing, however, to notice his gaze.  “I could have sworn the door was locked, but then Namjoon appeared and it unlocked without him pulling out a key or anything. He just flicked his wrist and open sesame.”

Jimin unabashedly stared at you, a small smile on his face. You always noticed the littlest things about them and it made his heart pound for you a little harder.

“Namjoon hyung always comes in at the coolest moments,” he replied, looking down at what you’d managed to gather so far. “So, we have the powers and where they come from. I think we found a section on their weaknesses the other day.”

“Yeah, it sounds like their main weakness is original sin, or the innate tendency to sin, all humans receive once they’re born.” You thought back to the section you and Jimin read before. “Because they’re part human and part angel, they are constantly at war with themselves and the human side typically wins.”

“Do you think that’s a bad thing?” Jimin asked. 

You closed your laptop. “...What do you mean?”

Jimin shifted, tucking his legs underneath him. “I mean, they’re celestial beings. They have cosmic powers at their disposal, access to the heavens, and everything they could have wanted. But they have a choice to throw it away, to sin, for...whatever the reason may be.” He muttered, glancing aside at the carpet. “If they gave it up, do you think they would have made the right decision?”

You paused for a moment, eyeing the shadows nearby branches cast on the library windows. “It think it depends on the person and what they’re sinning for. Whether they were doing it for their own self interest, or to protect a loved one-”

“What if they were doing it because they loved someone?” Jimin interrupted, eyes widened in curiosity.

Your eyes left the window as you turned to face him. “I would admire their dedication. And it’s not as though they lose their abilities when they fall from grace. I only wish that person would be worth it, and that they’re happy.” 

You smiled wistfully. “An angel losing their wings to love someone for the rest of their life. What a sad, beautiful thing. ’Tis the plight of being human, I suppose. They’re really not that different from us--besides the celestial gifts, of course.”

Jimin grinned and hummed in agreement. 

As always, only you could understand them perfectly.

You stood up from the couch and brushed off the back of your skirt. “Uh, Jimin, could you please tell me where the bathroom is?”

He smiled. “Yeah! You just make a left at the corner, then a right, then another right, and there should be a guest room with a bathroom in it.”

You zoned into and out of your thoughts momentarily and blinked, smiling and nodding at him. “Thanks.”

——————————————————————

Perhaps Jimin told you the directions incorrectly, or you made a left when you should have made a right, but there was no doubt about it. You were lost. There was no bathroom where he stated there was, and you’d been wandering around the third floor for several minutes now with no clue as to where it was.

“Damn this house.” You muttered under your breath. “Only seven people live here, why is it so big?”

You finally came upon what looked like a guest room, one that hopefully had a bathroom inside, when you heard two voices speaking from the behind the partially open door. 

“Seriously. You need to be more careful with these sorts of things.” The first voice said, deep and mature.

You stopped in your tracks immediately.

“It’s not like I wanted this to happen.” the second one spoke. Their voice was much lower and raspier than the first. 

“Of course you didn’t. That’s why you should pay more attention when doing your work.” The first voice nagged and you heard someone hiss.

“Ah, it’s fine. It was worth it. Still, thanks for patching me up, hyung.”

You were stuck near the crack in the door, too afraid to move in fear of being heard. 

“Whatever. You’re too reckless. Maybe this’ll teach you a lesson.”

“Oh, come on. How was I supposed to know that the kid would make such a-”

“Stop talking.” The first voice stated, sounding much lower than it had before. 

Your eyes shook at the sudden silence and you whipped around to look at the hallway, quickly searching for a place to hide.

About two steps behind you, there was a five foot long indent in the wall, courtesy of the prominent display of a large painting.

You risked it and threw yourself backward, stepping as quietly onto the wood as you could before throwing your back up against the indent, facing away from the room. 

And not a moment too soon, as you heard the door fly open the second you were hidden from view. You sunk to the floor in a crouch.

“What’s wrong, hyung?” You could hear the younger’s voice sound from the room much clearer now.

You sucked yourself as tightly into the corner as you could.

There was no response from the older and you strained your ears for a sign, a hint, anything.

Breathing felt too loud, swallowing felt too loud, the brush of your clothes against your neck as you turned your head felt too loud. Everything was deafening.

Please don’t find me, please don’t find me, please don’t find me-

There was the slow, soft padding of feet on the wooden floor. You trembled as it got closer and closer to where you sat. 

In the corner of your eye, you could see a socked foot, inches away from where you hid.

“Jin hyung!”

Your savior, none other than Jimin, appeared at the end of the hallway, yelling in excitement.

You know he saw you, of course he saw you. It was impossible not to coming from his direction. You cast your eyes down, praying he wouldn’t reveal your presence.

He grinned as he ran towards the man. 

“You came back early!” The younger boy tackled him in a hug, wrapping his legs around him. 

The force drove the man back several steps and he grunted, his foot disappearing from your sight. “Jimin, you’re getting a bit too old for this, don’t you think?”

“Yes, but I know you’ll always carry me, hyung.” You heard him giggle. 

“What are you doing up here?” The other voice asked, joining the other two in the hallway. You remained where you sat, not moving an inch. 

“Yoongi hyung! You came back too!”

He scoffed. “Of course I did.”

“Answer his question first, Jimin ah.” You heard the elder comment in a much warmer voice than the threatening tone you heard behind the door. 

“I was in the library working on a project with my classmate. She had to use the bathroom but she never came back, so I came looking for her.”

You blinked rapidly, staring at the wooden floor in front of you.

There was a pause. 

“Have either of you seen her?” Jimin asked.

“...No, we haven’t.” The deep and mature voice, which you now matched to the eldest brother, replied. 

“I’ll just keep looking, then. But you should head downstairs. Father will be home soon, he’ll be pleased to know you’re here!”

Due to the series of complaints you then heard, it sounded as though Jimin took both of his brothers by the wrist and led them to the stairway down the other side of the hallway. 

You waited in that spot for several moments, until you couldn’t hear anything but the wind blowing up against the walls. Once you ensured that they were gone, you ran back down the hallway you came, bladder be damned.

Of course. How could you have possibly forgotten Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s two eldest children?

Kim Yoongi and Kim Seokjin.

Had you not moved when you did, and had Jimin not interfered when he had, you might have...no, you surely would have lost your life in that instant.

——————————————————————

You made it back to the library, quickly and quietly opening the door before rushing in.

Jimin still hadn’t returned, so no one was there to see you fly over to the couch and plop down to sit. You tried to catch your breath to slow the pounding of your heart.

Kim Yoongi and Kim Seokjin. You were almost caught eavesdropping on their conversation.

You had never wanted to purge your memory more than in that exact moment.

What if they suspect I heard everything? What if they have the Augustuses’ people capture me for it? It couldn’t have been that important--it sounded like they were just patching up wounds. Maybe one of them got into a fight? Surely this wouldn’t be enough to warrant such violence. Even they have limits, yes? Then again, when did they ever need a reason to-

The library doors flew open and you flinched, looking up at them only to sigh in relief.

“(Y/N), there you are! Did you find the bathroom alright?”

Jimin’s eyes twinkled playfully as he smiled at you. You restrained yourself from cursing at or hitting him in anger and relief, choosing instead to let out a deep sigh.

“Yeah,” you stated quietly. “It was fine.”

At that moment you received a text from your mother stating that she was downstairs.

"My mom says she’s here. I guess it’s time for me to go.” You stated, beginning to pack your laptop and notebooks away.

“Sure! I’ll come downstairs with you.” He smiled and turned away from you to return The Word of the Lost to its proper shelf.

“Thanks,” you whispered, then zipped your bag up.

Jimin was already gliding away toward the back of the library, the leather bound book in hand, but he still managed to hear you. He didn’t respond, but he smirked triumphantly.

You accepted his silence as a “You’re welcome” and took the moment to fix your composure. When you were both ready, he led the way downstairs.

“My eldest sons have finally returned home!” You heard Kim Moonsik cheer from the living room. 

His tone, usually melancholic and oily, was much lighter today. You surmised that even his mood could be improved by the sight of his family.

He sat on one of the two settees while his two oldest sons perched on the long, gray couch in front of him. 

They both had black hair and dark eyes, like their brothers and parents. One was casually dressed in a large black hoodie and black sweatpants, while the other looked comfortable in a neutral toned sweater and slacks.

The one sitting on the left rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand why you had hyung drag me here a week earlier than necessary, Father. It isn’t that big of a deal.”

Kim Yoongi was notorious for his rebellious attitude. You had heard that since his days at Ichabod Academy, he never listened to authority figures--his classmates were afraid of him and his teachers let him do as he please. The only time he would adhere to rules and tradition was at the required monthly meetings, for obvious reasons.

“On the contrary,” The older man chuckled. “Every time you come home is cause for occasion, my prodigal son.”

“Have some sympathy for me here.” The eldest drawled with his arms crossed. “I get a headache every time I’m forced to drag you home with me.”

Kim Seokjin, on the other hand, was an entertainer. He would lower people’s defenses with a friendly expression and a joke. The citizens of Ichabod found him much more agreeable and respectable as Mayor Kim’s eldest son. They thought him harmless. They fawned over him and Namjoon, praising the mayor for how well he’d raised them in terms of respect and diplomacy.

They were fools. For even now, you could see it as he lounged back relaxedly in his seat: Kim Seokjin may be considered kind and polite, but he was by no means harmless. 

“Do you want me to bring you some medicine?” Jimin piped up from beside you on the stairs, drawing the three’s attention. 

You could feel the college students’ gaze burning into the side of your face.

You kept your facial expression neutral and descended the stairs behind Jimin, who skipped down the rest of them. 

“Who’s this?” You heard Yoongi question.

“This is my classmate, (Y/N). She’s the person I was looking for earlier,” Jimin said, seating himself in between his older brothers.

You bowed toward them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Seokjin smiled and reached out his hand. You extended yours, expecting a handshake. 

He held it, turned it over, and pressed his lips to the back of it. “The pleasure is all ours.” 

Yoongi smirked as you took your hand back, fighting a blush. “How lovely it is to make your acquaintance.”

“Thank you, you too. It’s nice to see you again as well, Mr. Kim.” You addressed the older man.

“You also, (Y/N) dear. I’m simply ecstatic you took up our invitation.” Mayor Kim said, the usual, passionate fire in his eyes blazing. 

You fought back a shudder. 

“You know the entire town needs to be present, Yoongi ah.” Mr. Kim continued the conversation from before. “You’re no exception.”

“I never said I was,” the second oldest retorted. “I just prefer to spend less of my break here.”

“How’s everything at school, Jiminie?” Seokjin asked as Jimin wrapped his arms around his midsection, skillfully redirecting the subject matter.

“Strange, as usual.” He mumbled, hesitantly looking up at you. 

“I heard the police finally found the Pierre boy,” Mr. Kim added, and you suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable in the presence of this conversation.

Where’s my mother? Weren’t we supposed to be leaving?

“Yes, we heard about it at lunch.” Jimin said. His tone when speaking to his father wasn’t as clipped or standoffish as it was when he was speaking to his mother; rather, it was more lackadaisical. “Right, (Y/N)?”

All four heads spun to you, still standing in the middle of the living room. 

“Why are you standing there looking so stiff?” Seokjin sent you a sinister smile. “Come join us.”

This was the last place you wanted to be, but you had no choice in the matter. You smiled awkwardly and shuffled to the empty settee. 

Before you could sit down, however, Jimin jumped up and pulled you to the couch, seating you in his old spot between his brothers. He then claimed the spot on the other side of Seokjin.

You stiffened and relaxed in a second, praying to everything that you didn’t look as uncomfortable as you felt.

The atmosphere was stifling. You couldn’t breathe.

“It’s a shame what happened to him, truly.” Mr. Kim continued, humming in sympathy. “I sincerely hope something like that doesn’t have to happen again.”

How dare he sit here and act as though he had nothing to do with it? What happened to Chance Pierre was his fault! You unconsciously balled your fist in your lap.

“I’m sure everyone will take this lesson to heart, Father.” Seokjin consoled him. “May they never underestimate the power of Wylynne’s grace again.”

“She is holy and forgiving, but some actions need to be punished, yes.” Yoongi added from your right with a cruel smirk. “Praise Wylynne.”

“Praise Wylynne.” Jimin nodded, eyes twinkling with amusement.

It suddenly occurred to you that you were the only one left who had not spoken. When you raised your eyes to meet with the others’, indeed, they were waiting for your response.

“...Praise Wylynne.” You smiled. False religion or not, there was no way you would be testing your luck in front of the divine priest and his sons.

Mr. Kim nodded in approval, then broke out into a laugh. “Wise, hardworking, and devoted; like mother, like daughter. Wylynne surely smiles upon the women of the (L/N) family.”

You laughed awkwardly. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

“Will your mother be arriving to get you soon?” Mr. Kim asked you.

“It was to my knowledge that she was already here-”

“(Y/N)!”

Your head spun toward the sound of your mother’s voice and found her standing in the entryway next to Kim Eunbyul. She wore navy blue scrubs today and her hair was pulled back into a bun with a few loose strands in the front. 

You had thought right. The two were a vision next to each other.

Mrs. Kim walked over, bringing your mother with her. “I apologize for the wait--(M/N) and I were having the most delightful conversation. (Y/N) my dear, how are you?”

She sat next to her husband on one settee and your mother took a seat on the other, empty one. 

This was your second time seeing Mrs. Kim, yet you still could not get over her beauty. She wore another silk housedress, a muslin scarf draped behind her back and over her inner arms. 

Her elegance was neither ostentatious nor arrogant. She demanded respect but gave it in return. 

She had what Aemilia desperately sought after but could never possess.

You nodded with a smile, bowing slightly. “Good evening, Mrs. Kim. I’m fine, thanks for worrying. And thank you so much for the sandals, I really appreciate you going out of your way for me.”

The former actress waved her hand lightly as she laughed. “It was no trouble at all!”

She took your hands in hers and looked down at her feet. “Besides, we match!” Following her gaze, your eyes widened. Indeed, you both had the same style and brand of slippers on.

“Thank you so much for the welcoming her so warmly, Mrs. Kim.” Your mother smiled. 

“Of course.” She assured. “Think nothing of it. I already think of you both as family.”

Your heart warmed a bit and you smiled in response to her words, for you already greatly admired Mrs. Kim. To think that she had taken a liking to both you and your mother...

It was then that the rest of the brothers trekked downstairs in curiosity, then heartily grinned once they realized their oldest brothers had arrived.

“How about we let the kids step aside so us adults can talk properly, hmm?” Mrs. Kim suggested, taking her husband’s hand.

Mr. Kim grinned and squeezed her hand in response. “A wonderful idea, love.”

The boys then quickly pulled you away from the main couches, moving your discussion toward the glass windows. 

You looked back at your mom a couple of times while the brothers greeted each other before focusing on the conversation at hand.

The eight of you stood in a circle near the windows, and you were currently stuck between Jungkook and Seokjin. 

“The other day, (Y/N) said she really liked your interior designing, Jin hyung.” Hoseok piped up. “She said she thought the living room was lovely.”

“Did she? She must have impeccable taste.” He playfully winked at you.

You smiled weakly. “Thank you. I really admire what you’ve done with the space.”

Yoongi, across from you, leaned against the glass. “How is everything at the academy these days?” He asked. 

You hesitated to answer then directed your gaze to the floor thinking the question was not meant for you. When you didn’t hear any of the other boys speak, you looked up and found six sets of eyes on you.

Their gazes were so focused and intense, as if you would break or disappear the moment they looked away. You shifted your eyes.

“It’s not the easiest, but isn’t that what high school is like for everyone?” You grimace-smiled.

“(Y/N)’s being bullied.” Taehyung revealed, draping himself over Jimin’s shoulder. “Aemilia Augustus and her lackeys won’t leave her alone.”

This little-

You whipped your head around to see if your mother had heard anything. Thankfully, Taehyung’s voice was lowered at the time. She seemed engrossed in her discussion with Mrs. Kim. 

“The Augustus princess?” Yoongi asked, interrupting your thoughts. 

“She’s what?” Jin started in surprise, his polite smile turning into a displeased frown. He glanced at Namjoon. The student council president simply nodded in response.

“She has the other kids pester or steal from (Y/N).” Hoseok added, glaring out the window. “The students can hardly stop talking about it.” 

Jungkook gently tugged on your shirt sleeve to get your attention. “If she’ s bothering you--” 

“It’s alright.” You assured them before they could really give Aemilia and her people a reason to go after you. “I’m working it out.”

“And how well is that going?” Namjoon snorted, giving you a knowing look.

You grimaced, locking and unlocking your phone. “...I’m working it out.” You repeated, suddenly fascinated by the wooden floor.

“If she ever gives you a hard time, you let me know.” Yoongi said, holding up his fists. One hand was wrapped in bandages and the other hand was bare, knuckles covered in torn skin and still-healing scabs. “I don’t get these from just lying around, if you catch my drift.”

You gaped at his hands and at the offer. Kim Yoongi? Offering to beat someone up for you? Where had his famous apathetic attitude gone?

“Violence is never the answer, Yoongi ah.” Seokjin replied before you could. He gently took your phone from you while it was unlocked and swiped around until he found your contacts. “If you ever need help, just give us a call. Don’t be afraid to reach out. We’ll always be there.”

You opened and closed your mouth in distress. 

Seokjin pointedly ignored the glare Namjoon was sending his way. 

He was jealous of his younger brothers, who got to see and speak with you every day. Earlier, he’d been in the middle of healing and wrapping Yoongi’s injury when he saw your shadow outside the door. 

He’d barely been able to hold himself back from ripping you out your hiding spot and pulling you into his arms. But then all of their progress would have been for naught. 

So he allowed Jimin to drag him away. 

But not anymore.

He understood that you needed your time and space but, really, their angel shouldn’t be so stubborn around them. 

He held the device out to you and you took it back, observing the six newest additions to your contacts list. He’d taken the time to add not just his number, but the rest of the brothers’ numbers as well.

“Thank you,” You confided with a rare, genuine, and small smile, “really. But I can handle it myself.”

On the outside, some of them nodded while the others frowned at the floor.

On the inside, however, they collectively sighed inside their head, tired of your age old response.

They just wanted you to be able to lean on them, to see them as another option that was always available to you, and only you.

How long was it going to take for you to trust them? How far would they have to go to capture the object of their desire?

Whatever the obstacle, they would surely overcome it. 

Your mother called your name once more and you shouldered your bag, replacing the nude slippers with your school shoes.

“I hope you have a pleasant night,” You said to the brothers, fumbling with your shoes. “I’ll see you in school tomorrow.” 

“See you tomorrow!” Jimin waved you off with a smile and his brothers and parents chorused farewells behind him.

You both bowed once more to the Kim family and descended the stairs, making as hasty but collected an exit as possible.

“I swear, (Y/N), I lose years off my life every time I come to this house,” your mother murmured once you both sat in the car.

“You know what, Mom? So do I.” You exhaled, slumping down in the front seat. “Drive slowly, won’t you? I might be the one throwing up once we reach the edge of the woods.”

Your mother barked out a laugh and nodded in thanks to Mr. Bin as he opened the gate. 

As you drove away from the Kim family home, you opened your messages and texted Mana, updating them on how you’d nearly lost your life this time.

That night, you ate dinner, cleaned up, finished other assignments, and had an hours long conversation with Mana about Brooklyn and your latest visit to the Kim residence.

The way their eyes bugged out of their head when you told them about how you’d nearly gotten caught made you laugh. Of course, it hadn’t been funny in the moment. Even thinking about it now made you slightly nauseous.

But you went to sleep that night all the same, dreaming once again of haunting, magnificent black wings.

——————————————————————

Once the front door of the Kim household closed, Jimin’s cheerful face dropped into a scowl. 

And he was not the only one upset. All seven of them glowered around the room in the aftermath of (Y/N)’s departure.

Kim Eunbyul and Kim Moonsik sat deathly still on the couch, unprepared for whatever was coming.

When someone is explosive with anger, they are destructive. One might break things, they may say harmful words, but for the most part, one takes their anger out in that single moment.

The seven men behind them were different.  

When they were angry, they plotted. The harder it was for them to get what they wanted, the harder they fought. They made sure there would be nothing that could possibly be in their way. 

“We told you to be patient, hyung.” Namjoon broke the angry silence. “Don’t ruin all of our plans with your ineptitude.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh?” Seokjin scoffed. “I put your number in her phone, too. Try being a little grateful.”

“Don’t disrespect your elders, Namjoon.” Hoseok chided, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We told you to put your dog on her leash.”

“You weren’t complaining when Aemilia’s antics gave you opportunities to help (Y/N),” Namjoon sneered. “I loathe her very existence as well, don’t misunderstand me.”

“You should hear the rumors going around at school, Namjoon hyung.” Jungkook frowned. “People are placing bets on how soon Aemilia’s going to destroy her.”

“I know you’re the brains of this operation but if (Y/N) gets hurt, this is not going to end prettily.” Yoongi stated solemnly.

“I won’t let it get to that point.” Namjoon assured.

“Get it together. And keep that girl in line.” Seokjin nodded.

There was a significant reason Eunbyul was so receptive of the (h/c) haired girl and her mother. 

Despite the fact that she really did enjoy your company and was happy to welcome you into their home, she knew what would await her if she ever dared to mistreat you.

You precious thing. You precious, hardheaded, stubborn thing. Why did you not give in to what they wanted? Could you truly not see how much they how much they longed to protect possess be with you?

Perhaps you’ve already started picking up on it, and this was why you wanted to distance yourself from them before it was too late.

You beautiful, foolish thing. It was already far too late.

Eunbyul quivered, squeezing her husband’s hand. Moonsik wore a stony expression on his face, but he squeezed his wife’s hand back with surprising strength. 

When she looked up from her lap, she gasped, for Jungkook was squatting directly in front of her. She felt as though his dark gaze was piercing her soul.

The probability of that very thing happening in this instant was high.

She exhaled and carefully avoided his gaze.

“Mother, Father,” he hummed, “is everything alright? You’re shaking like leaves in the wind.”

“Oh dear.” Taehyung replied, resting his arms on the back of the settee behind them. He tilted his head and frowned down at the two as if they were insects, scurrying around in an attempt to escape their deaths. “That doesn’t sound very good.”

“I’m sure it was just a result of them working so hard.” Seokjin smiled at Moonsik. “I must say, I was impressed.” The elder simply nodded and avoided his gaze.

Namjoon strolled over to Eunbyul’s side of the settee and gently pat the woman on her back. “Your performance today was especially moving, Mother.”

“At least she wasn’t trembling in front of (Y/N) like she did last time,” Jimin kissed his teeth. “Useless woman.”

Hoseok bent over in laughter, the outburst shortening into a light giggle as he joined them by the couches. 

“They work diligently, why not praise them once in a while?” He suggested, suppressing another laugh.

“Like I’ll ever.” Jimin rolled his eyes. “I really hope you know what you’re talking about, Namjoon hyung. I’m going to bed before I feel the need to hit something--or someone.” Jimin glared and bounded back up the stairs.

“It’s alright. We’re fine.” Eunbyul forced out. “Thank you.”

“Yes, you should be. If you weren’t, it would imply you did something wrong.” Yoongi smiled.

“And if you did something wrong,” Jin continued, “...well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

She stiffly nodded. 

“Of course not.” Taehyung grinned and pat her head condescendingly. 

“Of course.” Moonshik repeated, willing his hands to stop trembling.

He had never expected this to happen. He never thought he would be living the life that he did.

He had called for power, and he had surely received it, but not in the way he thought he would.

Was the insurmountable power worth the treatment he received in his own home?

Yes. And if he had to repeat it, he would have made the exact same decision. It would surely be worth it. That was what he told himself day in and day out, the prayer he spoke to his god in an attempt to convince himself of the lie.

It would surely be worth it.

“We’re trusting you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim.” 

——————————————————————

The Augustus residence was a fairly old building, a beautiful family manor transformed into a modern, affluent home. It stood in the center of the city, as their family used to be the epicenter of society. 

Aemilia found both her home and its location extremely fitting. 

As unfortunate as it would be that she would have to move from this stately home to one in the middle-of-nowhere woods, she was willing to deal with it. She would follow her future husband anywhere, everywhere, if need be.

Usually, the esteemed Augustus home was silent. 

“How could you?” Brooklyn shouted in anger.

But today, those grand old walls whispered in the wind through quite the ruckus.

“The people that work for your family dragged Constance’s little brother out of his home in the middle of the day! They tortured him for two weeks! You knew where he was the whole time, and you didn’t say a thing!” Brooklyn gestured toward their friend. “She came to you for help, and you slammed the door in her face!”

The blonde had stopped talking long ago. She curled herself into a ball and tucked her head into her chest, looking well on the verge of a panic attack. 

The three girls had arrived at Aemilia’s house earlier, prepared to do the usual: finish some homework, study, and binge watch some shows. 

But (Y/N) (L/N)’s words had been ringing inside of Brooklyn’s head all afternoon. 

A means to an end. 

Disposable goods.

A useful little puppet.

She couldn’t take thinking it anymore, so she finally voiced the dreaded question. Brooklyn asked Aemilia what she and Constance meant to her.

The strawberry blonde tilted her head, staying quiet for several minutes. She then grinned and replied,“My ladies in waiting?”

For Wylynne’s sake. She could have at least been less direct than to compare them to literal servants.

Brooklyn erupted at Aemilia, asking her if that’s what she thought years of friendship had amounted to, thus leading them to their current argument.

For whatever reason, it had never occurred to the brunette that Aemilia may be using her. She thought she had broken the barriers the callous girl held for her long ago, but after Constance showed up at Brooklyn’s house in tears, combined with Aemilia’s response to Chance’s disappearance...

Perhaps it was time she seriously reevaluated their “friendship”.

“Don’t you think you could have reassured her that he was alive? Even police officers tell family members when people have been arrested.” Brooklyn glared at the other girl.

“Get real, Brooklyn. This isn’t a stupid police station. This is Ichabod. It’s because we live in Ichabod that Chance broke the law, and received his due punishment.” Aemilia justified coldly.

“A fourteen year old boy in laying in his bed, covered in bruises and permanently blind in one eye. But I need to get real because this is Ichabod, and that somehow makes it okay?” Brooklyn raised her volume, disturbed by how convicted Aemilia was in her reasoning. “How could you possibly think that makes it okay?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Aemilia sneered, “I wasn’t aware that I needed your opinion or approval for my thoughts and actions.”

“That’s exactly the problem! This is about you playing us, using us through your actions! I honestly thought we meant more than that to you!” She snarled in response.

“I don’t see a problem with it,” Aemilia shrugged. “You and Constance used me for popularity and safety, and now you come crying to me, claiming that I can’t use you in return?” She barked out a laugh. “That hardly seems fair. How ungrateful.”

The brunette couldn’t deny the benefits that came along with being close to the strawberry blonde, but for her to twist their entire history and friendship into one of utility? She was beside herself with anger.

“Used you? You think we used you? For what?” She roared. “Your money? Your status? Don’t you think we have those exact same things?” 

Brooklyn Hayes and Constance Pierre were not one’s normal, run of the mill best friends. In fact, they were in extremely similar situations to Aemilia, for their families were also members of the old city elite. 

The Hayes and Pierres had lived in Ichabod for nearly as long as the Augustuses. They may not have had the same amount of prestige that Aemilia lay claim to, but they certainly were not far off.

“You grew up with us and thought we were nothing more than what? Walking labels that strengthened your social status? People you could use to do your bidding?” Brooklyn deadpanned. “We were nothing more than pawns in your game, weren’t we?”

“We didn’t befriend you because of your title or your family, Aemilia. We befriended you because we admired you and your personality. We weren’t the ones that twisted your perception of us into toys, or puppets, or ladies in waiting.” She gave a mirthless smile. “That was all you.”

Aemilia paused, reminiscing on her younger days. In every interaction she ever experienced, she was treated like royalty. At some point, she simply assumed it was natural for everyone to bend to her every whim.

Everyone...except for those two.

They had approached her for some childish reason like playing dolls or tag or other, but it was all genuine. 

“I honestly can’t believe you.” Brooklyn shook her head at her silence and stormed around the room, collecting her and Constance’s materials and shoving them into their respective bags. 

“All these years. All these years, and I was that clueless, that hopeful.” Brooklyn muttered as she gave her a cruel smile. “I can’t believe (Y/N) (L/N) knew you better than I did.” 

Aemilia’s face flushed bright red. 

“Your ladies in waiting are going to relieve themselves of their position now.” Brooklyn carefully dragged the non responsive blonde to her feet, holding both of their bags and contacting her personal driver. She curled her lip. “Please feel free to march your way to the throne by yourself, your highness.” 

The door slammed shut behind them, and for a moment, the residence was silent once more.

Then, with an anguished cry, Aemilia picked up whatever textbooks were nearby and vaulted them at her walls.

First, her future husband. Next, her friends. What would that (h/c) haired bitch steal next? Her life?

“No. No. I won’t let it get that far. I would never let you get away with it!” She screamed, hurling another book. 

Her bedroom door swung open and her father ducked the incoming textbook. “Aemilia! What on earth is going on? Brooklyn and Constance just left looking extremely upset, did you three have an argument?”

She dropped the rest of the textbooks, raced to her father and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Daddy, I need you to call up the special squadron.”

Aloysius Augustus held his daughter’s hands and warily pried them off of him. “Whatever for?”

Aemilia flashed him a maniacal grin. “Namjoon just texted me. He says his father believes he’s found in another soul in dire need of discipline.”

——————————————————————

Ever since engaging in this battle of wills with Aemilia, you tell yourself that there isn’t anything that could surprise you anymore.

Yet the actions of your classmates the next morning were strange. Stranger than you could possibly anticipate.

You entered the classroom and found a group of girls standing in a huddle around a desk, whispering to one another.

The room was strangely empty. Neither Mana nor Jimin had arrived yet, nor had some of your other classmates known for coming to school relatively early.

The girls noticed your entrance and quieted immediately. You found this suspicious, so you decided you wanted nothing to do with them. You shifted your gaze away from them and kept on walking to your seat.

That is, until you heard one of them scoff loudly in your direction.

“I mean, just look at her. She walks around the school as if she’s better than us, just because Ms. Diivi had Jimin sit next to her.”

You froze but their tittering only got louder. 

The girl that scoffed before, a classmate of yours named Seph, left the group and stood in front of you with crossed arms.

“You’re not anything special, (Y/N). You shouldn’t mistake yourself.”

The others seemed to agree with her as, soon enough, they left the desk one by one to surround you.

“It’s really pathetic how you practically beg for Jimin’s attention.”

“The other day, when you made him give you his sweater? It was really embarrassing.”

“Yeah, I could hardly stand to watch.”

They imitated your shivering as they laughed, making it look as though you were having a seizure.

“You used to be tolerable at the least, but Jimin transferred to our class and you finally decided to take the opportunity to climb the ranks, huh?” Another sneered.

You could hardly move. You were stuck in place, the words swimming around in your head.

Externally, you stared down at the ground in confusion, but internally, you were shocked. You couldn’t believe the accusations the girls were coming up with.

Even after everything this town had been through, the Kim brothers still had some sort of deluded fan club...and now they were coming after you.

“What the hell?” You finally said, lifting your head to look each of them in the eye. “Why would I go begging for his attention?”

“Don’t try to deny it, bitch.” Seph snarled. “You used to keep your head down and mind your business like the rest of us, but now, all of a sudden, you’re relishing in the spotlight.”

“We’ll see just how much Jimin likes you soon enough.” One of her lackeys snickered.

They left you where you stood, turning their attention to the doorway.

You could see Jimin from the glass window in the door, waving goodbye to Taehyung as he headed off to his respective classroom. He reached down to twist the knob and pulled the door open.

Had you blinked, you would have missed the entire thing.

Seph pulled a bucket out from under the desk they were all crowded around and threw its contents all over Jimin.

He closed his eyes and opened his mouth in shock as he was doused in water from head to toe. His uniform was soaked and his hair lost its floofy nature, flattening down over his eyes.

One of the girls ripped the bucket away from her and shoved it into your hands. They moved back in tandem, shocked gasps hiding their deeds as Jimin wiped water out of his eyes, which landed on you holding the bucket.

“(Y/N)...?”

You were just as shocked as he was, mouth agape. The evidence was completely against you.

He looked up at you with teary eyes. He looked hurt, so angry, you figured there was no way you were going to get out of this.

“I didn’t do it, why would I?” You protested.

“Jimin, are you alright?” The ringleader picked back up, skillfully concealing a triumphant smirk with an open look of concern. “(Y/N), how could you do such an awful thing? Especially after he’s been nothing but kind to you...”

Wow, does she get lessons from Mrs. Kim or something?

You dropped the bucket in surprise. “No! Jimin, it wasn’t me, I promise, they just grabbed the bucket out of nowhere-”

This is it. My mother is going to have to bury her daughter young. I failed to provide for her, or thank her for everything she’s done for me. Your thoughts couldn’t stop racing. 

“Even for a prank, that’s a bit much, isn’t it?” They continued behind you.

“She’s been acting all this time. I’m not surprised.” 

“He treated her so well and it all just blew up in his face.”

“That’s just like her.”

“She’s lying directly to his face, how fake.”

“Disgusting.”

They continued spouting lies in front of Jimin, telling him about how you were only using him, how you would curse his very existence behind his back. 

Jimin approached you, his wet shoes squeaking on the tile floors.

You backed up, intimidated, bumping the back of your leg against another desk and falling to the floor.

...Would begging help? 

When you finally looked up at him, begging felt like an appealing option.

Jimin’s eyes glistened, chocolate colored irises now hardened and flashing gold.

They were even colder than the ones you’d seen in your dreams, and you felt the temperature around you drop considerably.

You must have been going crazy with terror, something that wasn’t completely amiss in your town. The girls behind you were feasting on the fearful expression in your eyes.

Then, right as you were about to stand, Jimin gently put his hands on your elbows and guided you up.

To their surprise, he tugged you to your feet, wrapped his arms around your shoulders, and pulled you in for a hug.

“You must have been so scared, weren’t you, (Y/N)?” Jimin whispered in your ear. “Those rats dared to mess with you. They tried to come between us with petty rumors and tricks. It’s okay, I’m here now. I believe you.”

He rubbed his hand up and down your back, the water from his uniform seeping into the front of yours. “I’ll make sure you have nothing to fear.”

Jimin pulled away from the hug, smiling at you. He then turned to face the girls, and with that same chilling smile, spoke.

“You all enjoy playing pranks, yes?”

The girls’ expressions changed in a matter of seconds, from snickers and taunts to tearful pleads.

Seph could hardly pick her jaw up off the floor. “Jimin! It was (Y/N), we all saw her-”

“Ah, ah, ah.” You heard a low chuckle sound from the doorway and whipped your head towards the sound.

“I saw everything with my own eyes.” Hoseok stood in the entrance, his arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame.

When had he gotten there?

“And quite frankly, I don’t take too kindly to you lying about what happened to my darling little brother.” His famed smile slipped from his face as he stared down the girls with more hatred than you’d ever seen him possess.

“Jimin...” you reached out to get his attention, but he couldn’t pry his gaze away from the detestable scum that stood before him.

How quickly the tables had turned, you thought as you watched them cower.

Jimin calmly walked toward her and tucked his hand underneath her chin, yanking her ear to his mouth.

He directly whispered into Seph’s ear, but everyone in the room besides (Y/N) heard the same thing, the message pulsing loud and clear inside their heads.

“I’ll make you wish you had never done that.”

He left the group huddling against one another in fright.

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” Hoseok smirked and kicked off the door, walking off with his hands in his pocket.

You stood, incredulous at what had just happened.

“Jimin.” You lay your hand on his shoulder and he covered it with his, turning to meet your gaze. His eyes were wide with expectation.

“Let’s go see your brother, we can get you some new clothes.” You said softly. He smiled serenely and nodded, dragging you to the door by the hand.

Before you could step out, however, he turned around to face them and glowered. “Clean this mess up.”

Seph whimpered and knelt down to pick up the bucket. The other girls scrambled to collect paper towels to dry the floor.

You watched them, trying to conjure up some form of sympathy. That could have been you, cowering beneath him. Moments ago, that was you.

Frighteningly enough, that familiar, heart-strengthening feeling made no appearance. There was no hatred, no remorse. You felt nothing as you were dragged away to the third floor.

Jimin knocked on the door to the student council room, smiling as he spotted his brother. Namjoon, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Hyung! I need a new uniform.”

He stepped back to let the two of you enter. Jimin released your hand and beelined for the atrium, grabbing a new shirt and a pair of pants. He then stepped into the bathroom and loudly shut the door.

“Do you mind telling me what that was all about?” Namjoon looked down at you for a moment before his eyes flew up and he stared at the wall with newfound interest. “Feel free to grab a change of clothes as well.”

You followed his gaze and jumped at just how wet the front of your shirt had gotten. “Thanks,” you muttered, desperately hiding your blush.

I’m seriously finding myself back here too often.

You got another polo from the closet and left the door open as you changed, praying that Jimin wouldn’t leave the bathroom and that Namjoon wouldn’t walk around the corner. To keep him busy, you filled him in on what had happened moments before.

When you were finished, you stepped out into the main room with your wet shirt folded over your arm. Namjoon leaned against the wooden table with his arms crossed. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked as though he didn’t know whether to laugh or punch someone.

You glanced at Namjoon and thought back to the way he looked at the people around him.

It quickly dawned on you how bothered you were by Namjoon’s view of everyone around him as some sort of game. 

He always wore an amused smile on his face: when he was looking at his mother in his family home, when he heard what Constance did to you, when he saw all of the students worrying over Chance, and whenever Aemilia and her antics were brought up.

He probably thought he was so clever at hiding it, at being the misfortunate yet accomplished gentleman that everyone perceived him to be, but you saw right through his act.

“The audacity they have to dare make such a ruckus on school property,” He clenched his jaw. “Don’t worry. They will surely receive proper punishment.”

You nodded, eyes glazing over with indifference.

You were too grateful that it was not you or Mana and too exhausted to be concerned with the affairs of other students.

They should have been prepared for this, at the very least. You were only worried about the well being of you and your loved ones.

Did that make you incredibly selfish? Did that make you just like...them?

A hot flash of anger rose in you and died as quickly as it had appeared.

Perhaps Namjoon’s act angered you because it was so similar to, no, better, than your own.

Your face twisted in response to your thoughts. “Thanks for the help. I’ll be sure to pay you back. Tell Jimin I’ll see him in class,” you muttered and bowed then left, needing to separate yourself from them as soon as possible.

Namjoon watched you leave, intrigued by the sudden look of displeasure you wore. “...She noticed,” he chuckled to himself.

"She must not have liked it,” Jimin said as he walked out, fully changed. His hair was still a little wet, but it was nothing he couldn’t take care of later.

Namjoon scoffed.

His little brother subsequently seized opportunity of your absence to explain to Namjoon just how delightful you looked in front of him.

“She looked as though she were about to beg, hyung. As gorgeous a sight as it was, those lower beings had the nerve to send her to her knees.” Jimin growled. “They terrified her, made her think I was going to hurt her.”

“What would you like to do with them?” Namjoon asked him as he leaned against the wooden table, a familiar smirk on his face.

By the end of homeroom, those girls were removed from your section. By the end of lunch, they had left your class and the school completely.

——————————————————————

The final bell rang and you lifted your head off your desk. You’d been trapped in your thoughts since earlier today, but your class schedule had given you no time to focus on your inner monologue.

Someone’s finger tapped your shoulder and you snapped out of your thoughts, directing your attention to them. 

A freshman stood before you nervously and passed you a folded piece of paper. 

“Thanks,” you muttered.

The kid nodded and scurried out of the classroom.

You unfolded the paper, reading the slightly disorganized handwriting. 

You and me, (L/N). Show up alone. Rooftop. 4 pm.

You didn’t even need to ask the kid who it was from.

“This is the game you’re going to play?” You mumbled to yourself. “You still can’t even confront me face to face.”

Unfortunately for you, you already were alone. Mana never came to school today, as they had gone with their father to visit their grandmother at her nursing home, and Jimin was going to be in robotics club for the next forty-five minutes or so.

Then again, Brooklyn and Constance didn’t look like they were attached to Aemilia’s hip today either. The brunette spent all of lunch sending her a bunch of particularly nasty glares from across the cafeteria.

You eyed the clock. fiddling with your phone. After several minutes of deliberation, you opened it to text your mother that you would take yourself home today. 

Let’s get this over with.

Approximately thirty minutes later, you shouldered your back pack on and made your way to the school staircase. 

You texted Mana an update on where you were going and what you were going to do, just in case. After a second thought, you also texted Jimin.

They must not have had their phones on them because they didn’t text back immediately, so you locked yours and put it in your pocket.

When you finally arrived to the rooftop, you saw Aemilia standing near the edge, strawberry blonde ponytail swinging in the autumn breeze.

You already weren’t feeling well and wanted to go home several hours ago. Alas, you were here. 

Your school rooftop was moderately large; appropriate, considering the size of the building. There was nothing up there but a few stacked, forlorn chairs, scattered materials, and blocks of concrete that functioned as storage spaces.

“What do you want, Aemilia?” You asked tiredly. 

She didn’t say anything, nor did she turn around. You walked a couple steps closer to her and stopped. “Hello?” 

“Did you enjoy yourself, (Y/N)?” She asked, her back still facing you. 

You squinted in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you enjoy taking everything away from me? Everything that I deemed mine?” Aemilia finally turned to face you. 

On the outside, she looked no different than she had a couple of days ago, but her eyes seemed...hollow.

“I didn’t take anything from you.” You pointed out. “Though, it sounds like you finally realized how skilled you are at pushing people away from you. That has nothing to do with me.”

“Don’t lie to my face.” She croaked out a laugh. “Don’t you dare claim that you haven’t stolen anything of mine.”

Her gaze turned malicious. “I thought you’d be a bug. Small, easy to crush. I wanted to make you even more insignificant than you already were. Unidentifiable.”

“But the harder I tried, the more I failed to crush you. I wanted to rub you into the dirt, but you kept on escaping unblemished.” She gazed in bored ire at her own two hands as though there was something on them that only she could see.

“So I realized, if I can’t crush you, then I’ll just have to destroy you. Completely.”

Foreign hands grabbed your arms with a vice and you started, immediately fighting to pry them off. 

“Are you fucking serious? What are you doing?” You voice was a mixture of fear and disbelief.

Had your greatest fear finally come true? Were the Kims actually going to make an example of you?

“I’m simply executing my right as an Augustus. I am removing anyone who is a threat to the Kim’s empire. My future empire.” She calmly remarked, nodding tonce o whoever was behind you. 

No. She was doing this for her own purpose. Her sense of order, of what was right in the world.

“Aemilia! You can’t do this!” Your voice raised in pitch and your breathing increased, your blood pumping faster and faster by the second. The hands on your arms were growing tighter and tighter.

“Oh, (Y/N). I tried to warn you several times. You didn’t listen.” She chided with false disappointment. “You did this to yourself.”

“Are you scared? Have you now realized your wrong doing? What a shame.” You watched in horror as a deranged smile crept its way onto her face and Aemilia threw her head back in laughter. “It’s already too late!”

There was no time for her descent into madness.

You stilled for just a second, then rocked your head back and successfully slammed it into your captor’s. There was a low grunt from behind you and the person let you go. You took off without a second thought.

You didn’t even bother trying the school door, as you knew it would be blocked. 

Instead, you ran past Aemilia, shoving her aside as hard as you could, in the direction of the roof’s edge.

The strawberry blonde fell, but her laughter didn’t pause--if anything, it only rose in volume. 

You realized the person had regained control of themself, as they came barreling after you.

Yet you also knew that one floor below you, there was a balcony informally used by all the students as a multipurpose space. To your knowledge, it consisted of old blankets and furniture.

I’d rather take my chances with an old table or couch than these bastards, you thought as you ran towards the eaves.

The closer you got, the harder your heart beat in your chest. You were terrified. But somehow, under all the fear, you were able to rationally think and suppress your fears. 

You willed yourself to keep running and, before you could think about it, threw yourself over the edge.

You were in the air for about three seconds before your captor grabbed you by the jacket and stopped your descent. With surprising strength, they yanked you up and backward, tackling you to the floor. 

Your body met the concrete with a harsh slam and you yelled out in pain. Hopefully, you had received nothing other than a few nasty bruises. 

Aemilia’s laughter had quieted by now and she stood on her feet. She brushed her clothes off with a pleased grin.

“Nice try, sweetie. Mr. Byun, why don’t you give dear (Y/N) here a reminder on what happens should she mess with the Augustus family?” She crooned.

Your captor pinned your hands behind your back and shifted so that they were kneeling on your arms, bones digging into your back. He grabbed you by the hair and slammed your head repeatedly into the concrete.

It hurt.  

It hurt more than when you sprained your ankle that one time walking to a monthly meeting and had to continue walking on it for the rest of the evening. 

It hurt more than when your mother healed a particularly deep cut of yours by stitching it up herself because she couldn’t afford to take you to the hospital.

It hurt more than seeing your mother’s face whenever you asked about your father. 

Everything hurt.

You couldn’t even cry out in pain as it would take up too much of your effort, effort that you didn’t have to spare.

“Thus, I declare myself the victor of our little battle of wills.” Aemilia chirped, not at all disturbed by the violence occurring in front of her.

There was something hot running down your forehead. After a couple of blinks, red crept into your eyes, falling down your face with your tears. 

“Your pride’s going to be the death of you.” You choked out, then winced as the Mr. Byun kicked you harshly in the stomach.

“Should my time arrive, at least I will go out in a blaze of glory.” She said brazenly, beaming with triumph. As she bathed in the light of the afternoon sun, her strawberry blonde hair turned a shocking red.

You blinked blood out of your eyes and squinted up at Aemilia, not that it helped as your blurry vision kept her form shifting in and out of focus.

“Yet I can’t say the same for you.” 

Then the grip in your hair tightened and your face met concrete for the last time, your entire world going dark.

Halfway across the campus, Kim Jimin turned his phone on and felt his heart drop to his stomach as his eyes landed on your text message.

——————————————————————

hey y’all! whew this is a long one--i’m sorry for taking longer than normal to update! thank you all so much for your enthusiasm and love! i adore reading your theories and comments :D i hope you all enjoy this chapter! feel free to let me know what you think will happen next~

~taglist~

@melaninkpops​ @loserwithapen​ @hellaspookystudent​ @ecillartto​ @omgsuperstarg​ @ace-angel-judas​ @jjamsbangtan​ @lovinggalaxies​ @lovesick-heart0​ @ksxmpoison​ @girlmeetsliv3​ @thedarkwinterrose​ @purpuravm​ @oneweirdbean​ @hopelessfountainjoonie​ @mazmaz30​ @enigmaticlove-03​ @uppiespuppy​ @queenceline22​ @kokofikats​ @taeyohonic​ @creatorspalace​ @supertweetycherry​ @anachikartadze​ 

[nightswithkookmin]

Jimin is a pretty bOY

This is a continuation of our discussion on my last post. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with me, I think I agree with all of it.

Not sure how I feel about the calling eachother out bit or near scolding of others in the comments. Please let's be welcoming and respectful of others's thoughts regardless of whether or not we agree with it. It's ok to hold diverse views. We do after all come from different backgrounds and have accumulated different experiences and I think it plays out in how we see things. Everyone's opinion is valid. Plus, I purple yall.

Now, do I think he is trying to pack on muscles........? Yes. He said so himself in Festa when he said he would rush to the mirror when he thought he had gained some muscle only to find out his biceps looks like a muscled kindergartner.

He also said lately he's into exercising and staying in shape which is true because for quite sometime now since early this year he has been talking about how "weak" he is in their Vlives and have even given instances of him not being able to do certain things- certian simple and easy tasks- which is typical of him I'd say. He's always talking about how "weak" he is especially around JK and juxtaposing that with "but JK is so strong" which I'm sorry but I have to smirk at right now cos it's such a typical gay pick me simp thing to do. We've all been there.

Do I think he's trying to be a muscle bunny or revert back to his body shape around debut? Absolutely not. But I do think he is straddling the line of toxic masculinity which is what the conversation is about.

I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to stay in shape or even enjoying work outs. Last night I ran downstairs because I had left my stew on the stove and now this morning I called renew my gym membership because I discovered running can be actually fun to do... No. No it's not. The gym instructor would have to come for me kicking and screaming.

RM have said even though JM looks skinny and fragile he is one of the strongest within the group. Besides, this is not the first time he's expressed interest in working out and building his body- hello, on Era?

I remember people complaining he looked too buffed up in that period on SNS and PJMs quickly jumping in to clear the searches for it. The choreo for On required agility and endurance and required the members- not just JM build up some definition in their muscles.

We've seen them go through all that. So it's not simply a matter of black and white staying in shape or doing it because he feels pressured to do so. Especially, when you consider that he's undertaken some pretty unhealthy measures in the past in attempts to lose weight or soften out his body post these muscle building, weight gaining periods and we've always chalked it up to his dance and how as a contemporary dancer he has to look a certain way or this or that to try to justify and make sense of it. Next you, know there are six chapters of break the silence of him talking about all the dark places he's been, the pressures to look his best for his fans or for his job and all these other painful stories he's shared with us over the years. And it's like, but why? Why do this to yourself?

I'll never forget the look he gave JK when JK was talking about wanting to build muscles in one of the interviews for the promotion of Be- I think I made a post on it. When JK noticed JMs disapproving glare he backtracked saying he would want to stay skinny after gaining all that muscles.

I mean if I'm to be honest, he was bound to crack at one point. The signs were there being surrounded by all these men who adhere to the traditional aesthetics of a masculine body- from Namjoon to Taehyung.

I wish y'all will steer the conversation in this direction and make it more about gender norms and expressions and breaking stereotypes and diversity in the body aesthetics of men.

Jimin is a man too. He just isn't what people traditionally will label masculine. Androgynous is more an apt word in my opinion. How many times have I said, I think Jungkook hetero passes because his body aesthetics is quintessentially what most associates with a masculine man?

Breaking gender barriers is not just about embracing feminine apparels- that teeters on cross dressing quite frankly and can be a bit performative and baity. Then you have to consider their culture in itself has an inherent pro gender diversity feel to it.

Now, let me explain my problem with the Klout ad campaign a little bit.

Do you see how Tae stands out? And I'm not saying this to fuel the "Tae was their fav" debacle. It's the 007 feel... I'll explain in a bit.

Most often, alcohol advertisers as well as most advertisements intended to sell to men often try to appeal to men's internalized ideals of masculinity or try to shape and define what a man or masculinity should look like. These ideals are so often toxic and detrimental to men and mostly women too.

Take a look at these ads for example. All I had to do was google search ads for men.

Real men drink milk and look at the image they present as real men. This blatantly implies if you don't look like this, if you are not a strong cliff climbing man with abs you are not a real man.

The second image is subtle. I call it the 007 slash Kingsmen-esque ideals of masculinity. It portrays men as sexy cool badass- works out but isn't too buff, filthy rich or middle class, wears Rolex, designer clothes, is kind but has a mean exterior and is every 13 year old wattpad girls's dream of a man. In fiction, you see this kind of masculinity in characters such as Edward cullens to Christian Grey. And a lot of ads for men alternate between these two ideals of masculinity.

Do you see how they modeled Taehyung in these ads after this kind of masctheme? Tae looks the same in almost all the ads. 007 sexy cool badass.

Now, I may not be a makeup beauty guru or MUA or whatever, but one thing I've picked up on especially when it comes to makeup for men- BTS and Kpop idols mostly is that, they soften out the harsh features on their faces and make them appear more androgynous or effeminate to suit the Kpop look and they ditch it entirely in different settings.

So for instance, Tae and Kookie's natural hawkish eyebrows tend to get softened around the arch and edges- don't know how the fuck they do that- but it appears less in your face intense most times when they wear make up in kpop related contents.

However, in certain other contents that lean towards a certain gender theme those features are emphasized. Not to say hawkish features are masculine features. Just saying in men, Kpop idols, my observation is they soften those features out with makeup or surgery.

Now, take a look at JM in these ads and look at everything from his posture, make up, hairstyle and brows. It's as if someone took an eraser to his androgynousity and erased his feminine side. Take a look at his photo above and compare it to the ads.

I am not a man. But I feel the gender look they went for, intended to appeal to men, tapped into a rather outdated stereotype of what man and masculinity should look like.

What is a man?

What should a man look like?

What aesthetics of masculinity is Jimin gravitating towards now? And I'm not talking clothes, I'm talking the expression of his gender. Time and again, he's talked about how looking a certain way made him uncomfortable in the past because he was constantly fighting his feminine side. He is androgynous. Sometimes he leans more into his feminine side. Other times he leans more into his masculine side but this is the only time he's leaning into his masculinity that makes me uncomfortable to watch because like I said it bothers on toxic masculinity.

He's said whoever he was, the version fighting to look masculine, that wasn't him. So forgive me if I worry whenever i see him suppressing his feminine side and acting like 'one of the boys.' Him staying in shape is not synonymous with him erasing a valid part of himself or suppressing it. He can stay in shape, celebrate his masculinity and still be FILTER.

What I'm saying is, this not a conversation about him exercising. This is a conversation about an ad erasing his feminine side and boxing him into a narrow expression of his gender and how that might be affecting his view of himself especially in the way he's been gravitating towards a certain masculine aesthetics and how that could be toxic.

Tae has said the same thing and BTS have agreed the JM as of 2019 was the real JM according to them.They said he was that way- suppressing his feminine side, because there weren't much songs and choreos that suited him and so he had had to bend himself to fit with the others.

And so when I see him leaning a certain way I tend to wonder if his exterior environment is playing a role in that. I hope you can understand that.

He is a contemporary dancer and strength and flexibility are prerequisites for his craft. The company go out of their way to incorporate contemporary dance in their choreos for JM's sake which helps solve that problem of him trying too hard to look a certain way.

May be I'm projecting. May be my little brother is effeminate and I've always recommended Jimin as a role for him to tell him not to try to look different just because other boys look different. May be I've seen him try one too many times to kill himself in the gym trying to build on muscles and getting frustrated with himself because he ends up looking like someone else. You can't gym the queerness away. Society will never let you be who you want to be so you might as well flip it the middle finger.

These boys are being shaped by their environment. I hate to say this but the environment they are in isn't exactly progressive and the longer they stay in there cut off from the outside world...

Flying out helps. Meeting different people and being exposed to different cultures and conversations on gender expression helps.

Anywho, these are just concerns I have. Will have them till I see that's not where he is headed towards. But let's not act like these ad campaigns do not and can not psychologically impact these boys especially as these advertisers are not looking to tap into their own definition of gender and masculinity but shape it and redefine it to appeal to the demographic they intend to market to.

I think this is just a grey area for me. Rather than try to change JM to look a certain way in order to sell alcohol. I think the ground breaking thing would be to have a man who looks like JM show us how someone like him would sell a can of drink. I think that would be revolutionary.

Signed,

GOLDY

[nctsjiho]

King JiHo (Favourite JiHo moments)

Fan Video by ‘Haechan’s Children’ on YouTube

(indented text = comments added by the maker of the video) I’m 100% convinced that this is JiHo’s world and we’re just living in it. Here’s some moments that prove this <3 Enjoyyyy~~

[[N'-135] New Thangs🙆‍♀️🙆‍♂️New Thangs👍👃 | ‘영웅(Kick It)’ 인기가요 대기실 비하인드]

NCT 127 was chilling in their dressing room, backstage, waiting for their turn to perform ‘Kick It’. JiHo sat in one of the chairs in front of the mirrors, ready to get her make up done. Taeyong who was holding the camera walked up to the girl ready to interview her.

“And here we have our lovely JiHo getting ready for our stage.” He commented, earning a hum from the girl. “How are you feeling- oh? What’s that?” The camera wasn’t pointed at anything anymore as Taeyong leaned in closer to the girl then readjusted the camera again to focus on JiHo. His hand reached out to grab her chin and his thumb lightly pressed against a purple spot beneath the left corner of her lip. “Is it real?” The concern was audible in his question and JiHo nodded.

“I thought it was fake! What happened? When did you get that bruise? It looks painful.” Taeyong kept firing out questions which had both JiHo and the make up artist, who was currently working on her, laughing. “It doesn’t hurt too bad.” JiHo answered coolly, her eyes darted to the mirror in front of her and she noticed Mark walk behind her.

“Mark and I got into a fight yesterday.” Taeyong gasped and Mark snapped his head towards her after hearing his name. “What?” Both men asked shocked at the statement. “Mark hit you?” Taeyong asked once again pointing towards the bruise on JiHo’s face. “What are you talking about?” Mark stuttered over his words and turned his head to take a closer look at the bruise. JiHo didn’t say anything as Taeyong put down the camera on the table in front of them and started scolding the innocent boy.

Both JiHo and the make up artist were laughing and JiHo decided to grab the camera and point it towards both boys. “Oppa. I’m just kidding, leave poor Mark alone.” She explained, trying not to laugh again.

Johnny who had been watching everything happen had joined the group wordlessly. “Lim JiHo! You can’t joke about things like that!” The leader scolded and Mark let out a relieved gasp. “What?” She laughed at his expression. “I know we didn’t get into a fight, but I almost started second guessing myself that I somehow did do that to you.” With a hand on his heart, the panic lingered in his eyes for a few more seconds before it slowly vanished.

“You two are so gullible, oh lord.” JiHo chuckled and Johnny now settled between both boys, patting them both on their shoulders. “Taeyong you should’ve known better. If JiHo did get into a fight with Mark, we all know Mark would be the one to come out that with bruises. Not the other way around.”

She has these boys wrapped around her finger and she knows it!

[NCT 127 Talks "Superhuman", Tour, and KPop]

“What makes NCT 127 different from every other boy band?” Jaehyun’s eyes met JiHo’s, who is sitting on the front row of members next to Jungwoo. They shared a smile as Zach, the host, continues his question.

Johnny translated the question to all the other members and JiHo slowly brought the mic up to her lips. Once Johnny finished translating, the female voice of JiHo resonated through the room. “Well...” She stopped there with a nod and everyone started laughing.

After Taeyong and Johnny finished their answer JiHo grabbed her mic once again. “Just want to clarify, I’m not saying I’m the only reason we’re different, I’m just saying, if you’re calling us a boy band then of course me being a female member would technically already make us different from all other boy bands.” She quickly added.

“How does that feel? Being the only girl in a group of men.” Zach asked and JiHo shrugged. “It doesn’t feel abnormal to me. I think after knowing the guys for such a long time I just like, kind of found my spot with them and it just feels normal.” “I think JiHo sometimes forgets that she a girl...” Johnny added carefully, his voice turning a bit unsure at the end. With the boys laughing in the background JiHo waved a piece sign in front of the camera closest to her and started “acting cool” before talking into the mic with a deeper voice. “I’m part of the boys. Part of the homies. Ya know?”

JiHo sweetie, I know you wanna look cool, but all you’re doing is looking adorable. Please stop I’m gonna have a heart attack

[⚾️시티고 야구부⚾️ EP.1 라커 급습 | NCT 127 Baseball Team]

After Johnny’s joke about copying Mark(’s butt), Taeil spoke up, “Aren’t we missing someone?” “Where’s JiHo?” Yuta spun around once as if he was looking for the absent girl. “Tsk. Again, she’s late-” “Lee Haechan!” A voiced boomed off of frame.

JiHo walked in with a confident stride stopping in the middle of the room and staring straight into the main camera. “Don’t speak about your baseball team leader like that.” She said in a cold tone. “Sunbaenim, where were you?” Johnny asked. Since the age rolls were reversed, JiHo was now the oldest in the group. “I just came back from the gym as the leader of the cheerleading team who just finished practise.” “You’re also their leader?” Doyoung stifled a laugh and JiHo turned to him sending him a glare. He put up his hands in a defensive pose and took a step back after which JiHo turned back to the camera.

“Why? Don’t you believe me?” “I don’t know JiHo. It’s just that-” Mark stopped talking before being able to finish his sentence as the girl kicked up her left leg. She caught her foot with her left hand and pulled her leg up until it was next to her face, extended into a heel stretch. Her right hand was also in the air, showing of how great her balance and flexibility is. She kept the pose for a few seconds before bringing her foot back down to the ground. “Wow!” The boys gasped in surprised.

JiHo isn’t trying to be flexible, flexible is trying to be JiHo

She eyed Mark who quickly acknowledged the fact that she fit as the role of the cheerleading team. “Don’t underestimate me Markie.” The teasing tone along with the nickname sent a shiver down the boy’s spine, the other boys either oohing or being slightly scared themselves.

Why is Mark always the victim of JiHo’s teasing?? I can’t with them

[‘To You’ #3]

The whole ‘To You’ series was really sweet and emotional. So this isn’t as funny as the previous clips, but I felt like this still fits the theme so well. I also think that not that many fans have seen this before, so after this clip you should watch all 3 videos <3

PS. this isn’t the full clip but here are some of my favourite parts of Taeil’s message to JiHo

“It must have been hard right? Your position in the group is very special and it must come with a lot of pressure.” Taeil’s eyes fell into his lap, a sad smile on his lips. “But you always try to hide your hardships from the group.”

I believe what he means with ‘position’ is being the maknae of the group as well as being the only girl

“I wished that you could come to us more and open up about those things, because I know that everyone (in the group) would drop everything they were doing in a heartbeat to hear you out.” He took a deep breath before continuing.

“Haechan is the mood maker in the sense that he likes joking around and being loud, but you also are a mood maker. Just in your own unique way. You’re such a good listener and observer so you notice things other people might not. You approach members silently or make small gestures, which mean a lot, to cheer someone up. But you can also be funny and loud. I appreciate both of those sides of you.”

I’m not crying, you are ::>_<::

It was silent for a little as Taeil seemed deep in thought. “I know you don’t like to be treated in a more special way than the other members, and the older members really try not to show it. But in our minds... and in our hearts, you do have a special place. I know you are a strong person and can protect yourself just as well, if not better, than the other members, but I can’t help but want to protect you.”

“Whatever anyone says, those people who aren’t our fans or don’t understand us, I hope you don’t take their painful words to heart. Because you are just as fit to be in NCT as any of the other members.”

I’m so happy to see how much NCT cares for JiHo, not that I ever doubted that they didn’t, but seeing this was so heart-warming and JiHo’s reaction was so sweet as well as her message to Taeyong (but you have to go watch the original video for that ;-) )

[[Un Cut] Take #4 I ‘NCT - RESONANCE Pt. 1’ The Future ver. Jacket Behind the Scene]

The camera focused on JiHo who was currently doing her individual shots. She was wearing a beige oversized long sleeve that showed of her collarbones but covered up most of the rest of her body.

JiHo squatted down and tilted her head to the side to show of her jawline. The staff were complimenting her as the shoot went on.

A particular switch in poses had elicited a surprising response from one of the female staff members. “Wow~ Has she always been this pretty?” She said in awe, which caused everyone to start laughing and agreeing.

After JiHo’s shoot it was Ten and Kun’s turn. During Ten’s individual interview he brought up the event that happened before his shoot started. “I heard that the staff was surprised by JiHo’s visuals.” He chuckled. “My baby is very pretty everyone. Don’t forget that or you’ll be surprised and fall in love with her like the staff member did.”

I don’t know if I’m freaking out more because Ten just called JiHo his baby or because she called her very pretty so casually? Also thanks for the warning Ten, but I’m already madly in love with JiHo so... a bit too late for that.

[Idol Crushes? | HDIGH Ep. #xx Highlight]

“Weren’t you promoting (’Revolution’) recently?” Jae (Day6) asked AleXa who was sat next to him. She hummed. “Actually it was around the same time that NCT was promoting their music.” “Oh did you talk to them?” AleXa shook her head whilst laughing but then stopped suddenly as if she remembered something.

“She wasn’t promoting with them at the time, but I saw JiHo sunbaenim backstage.” This comment perked up Jae’s interest as he sat up in his chair. “Did you introduce yourself?” “Yeah she actually noticed me first and came to say hi.”

Diane, who was the person behind the camera gasped loudly. “Why haven’t you told us about this?! She knows you?” The small girl nodded embarrassed and then explained what happened on that day.

“She’s super nice and complimented my music and dancing. I didn’t think I’d ever been at such a loss for words as back then. I got so nervous because even though she’s really nice, she has such a strong presence? If you know what I mean?” Jae and Diane hum in understanding. “Just seeing her up close like that was so intimidating. Like she told me she was there to support her members so she didn’t have any makeup on, but she was still insanely beautiful.” Jae laughed at the girl’s dramatic explanation. “You sound like you have a crush on her.” AleXa stuttered for a second before replying. “I think I might!” They all laughed.

“Did you exchange phone numbers?” Diane asked and AleXa nodded excitedly. “We did! We don’t text each other often, but every once in a while she reaches out after a new podcast episode comes out to tell me about the parts she liked.” “Oh so she watches this?” Jae’s eyes widened. “Yeah.”

AleXa turned to the camera and waved. “JiHo sunbaenim, if you are watching this, thank you so much! I hope we can get closer someday.”

I don’t know AleXa that well, but I think a collab between her and JiHo would be so powerful!

Thanks for watching this video guys! And leave a comment on what kind of content you want to see next, byeeee o/

[aj-artjunkyard]

Batfam musical headcanons

Dick:

instrument wise? Nothing, the man couldn’t tap out a tune on the piano if his life depended on it but boy that doesn’t stop him from trying

Sometimes the more musically inclined of the family will try to teach him a simple tune or beat to play in the background of a musical video they’re recording, but he’ll always forget the notes in 5 seconds and just improv when he feels it, it always sounds terrible but he’s having a blast 

Can sing though. Oh man can he sing

Doesn’t mean he sings anything other than Disney Princess songs tho 

If you were to ask me for a voice reference, I’d say Thomas Sanders

He has quite a wide vocal range but he’s better on higher notes

He sings quietly or under his breath most of the time, but then he’ll get to a line he’s confident on and he’ll belt it out at full volume

Sometimes a random line will ring out across the manor and it will 100% be Dick’s voice singing I Can Go The Distance from Hercules 

Doesn’t remember half the lyrics 

This still doesn’t stop him 

Remember that scene at the start of Spiderverse where Miles is singing ‘Sunflower’, but only knows half the words, muttering the rest and getting REALLY into the parts he knows? Yeh that’s Dick

plays a KILLER kazoo solo

no he doesn't but it does annoy everyone in a 10 mile radius so there’s an major upside here

Jason:

This man has a breathtaking bass singing voice 

He claims he has never and will never sing in front of anyone, but sometimes when he’s in a rare good mood, he’ll mess around with his siblings in the music room and end up singing sea shanties with Tim and Dick (and sometimes Duke if he’s not too shy)

This is Jason, Dick and Tim. Damian is recording

Sings exclusively Hamilton, but his real talent in singing isn’t in the rapping area he just loves that musical 

Secret Theatre Nerd™

Famed for roping Tim and Duke into musicals; exclusively Dear Evan Hanson, Hamilton, Heathers and Les Misérables

One day Dick and Jason tease Duke out his shell enough to preform this with them

Would sing to himself in his safe houses and while ripping down the road on his motorcycle at top speeds

Not much of an instrument guy, but could tap out a piano tune or a drum beat if someone needed it

Keyword here being *could* bc he CAN but he WON’T

Even if someone managed to loop him into doing a backing beat for a tiktok or smthn he most definitely wouldn’t remember how to do it 30 minutes later

He claims his mind is too crammed with actually important information to remember a dumb piano tune for more than 10 minutes 

Tim:

Can carry a tune, but prefers the instrumental side of music 

He’s a tenor and sings higher than Dick, but Dick has a wider vocal range and if he wanted to, Dick could hit high notes Tim couldn’t dream of. Tim just doesn’t have the same range

But he’s fantastic at instruments 

He plays a wide range due to his private lessons back at Drake Manor, including but not limited to: Piano, saxophone, drums, cello, clarinet, acoustic guitar, trombone and the triangle 

Can Timothy Drake play incredibly difficult classical pieces on almost any instrument with ease and move the listeners to tears? Yes. Will he? No. Because the only tunes you will ever catch Timothy Drake playing is exclusively meme music

If it’s a sound on TikTok, this child can play it double time guaranteed

I’m talking the Mii theme, the Subway Surfers theme, Axel F, Wet Hands, you name it

K I lied he sometimes plays fantastic renditions of pop songs or movie scores 

He also likes joining in on those “adding an *instrument* solo to a song that does not need an *instrument* solo” TikToks

This child makes quality TikToks

His acc has a great following bc has such a vast variety of content and its all peak. It ranges from music to music memes to family shenanigans to academic memes to whatever was in his mind that day

He has a sparse posting schedule but when he does post its always worth the wait

ANYWAYS back on track

Tim will 100% play saxophone on top volume outside Damian’s bedroom when the kid is annoying him

Sometimes Jason joins in but he plays his chosen instrument horrifically just to annoy Damian more 

Jason and Tim do this

ok its time for my favourite boy

Damian:

Damian isn’t a singer. He refuses to ever sing in front of anyone, and he’s got the whole ‘boys’ tween voice’ thing going on too, and though he’ll probably have the capacity to be a great singer when he’s older, he won’t ever sing enough for many to find out

Instruments on the other hand,,,,

Damian does his little “*tt* I don’t care for the music, I play because it quickens reaction time and helps improve my memory and hand-eye coordination” and everyone’s just “sure Dami, thats why you were playing Merry-Go-Round of Life on repeat at 4am”

He likes orchestral and classical music, he’ll often play the song over the speakers in the music room and play along on his chosen instrument

He considers that genre more impressive for a musician instead of the pop rubbish Tim plays

He was taught violin by his mother back in Nanda Parbat, and it’s still his go-to favourite instrument, but he’s been teaching himself every other instrument in the music room

He uses music as a release, because he’s finally starting to get that violence isn’t always the acceptable release like it was back in the League and Dick and Bruce are so happy to see him start to understand this and get hobbies that aren’t related to work

When he gets older his taste in music expands to more electric guitar and drum heavy songs, but right now he’s still a bratty rich child and not an angsty teen

Jason is the one who introduced teen Damian to TØP, MCR, P!ATD and BMTH and now they jam together at excruciating volumes, screaming lyrics and wildly strumming on bass and electric guitar and banging on the drums and everyone would gladly slap Jason if not for the soundproof walls in the music room

Bruce:

Bruce used to be classically trained in a few instruments but he just didn’t care enough to continue them into his teen years so he just kinda forgot them

He regrets it now, seeing all his talented kids bonding over music and thinking that it probably would be been better for him to have a hobby when he was younger 

On one rare night he has the manor to himself, so he sits down at one of his grand pianos and tries to remember one of the tunes he was taught. Alfred hears his woeful attempts and starts to teach him some easy tunes

They do this every time they have the manor to themselves 

Bruce finally masters a song and he’s really pleased with himself Alfred is just so proud of his son,,,,

[ur-favorite-queer-queen]

School Dance

For Maribat March day 25 theme school dance

Master List

“Now remember class,” Mrs. Davis spoke, “The Father Daughter dance is tomorrow afternoon at 5 till 7, make sure you get your tickets at the booth near the cafeteria.” 

“Yes Mrs. Davis.” All the students answered in unison. 

Little Charlotte Martha Brown-Wayne walked out of her 4th grade class with her best friend, Faith Couffaine, in tow. 

“So Char, are you going to be going to the dance?” Faith asked, her blue eyes locked onto Charlotte.

“I don’t think so Fae.” Charlotte turned so that her brown eyes faced the ground.

“Why not? Me and my dad are going to be there!” Faith exclaimed, fixing her headband that somehow got tangled in her thick black hair.

“Yeah because you have a dad, I don’t think moms are allowed.” Charlotte replied, tucking some stray pieces of her dark brown hair behind her ears.

“Oh please, just bring one of your moms, it’ll be fine!”

“But Fae-” She turned her head to face her best friend.

“No don’t Fae me. I already got my ticket and I know your parents are just waiting for you to ‘remember’,” She used air quotes, “to get yours. You’ll be fine Char, plus isn’t your mom really looking forward to this?” She didn’t wait for her to answer, “Exactly, so I expect to see you there.”

“Fae-” 

“Bye Charlotte, you better not leave me hanging!” Was the last thing said before she raced to hug her mom and leave in her limo. 

“Ugh, really Faith.” Charlotte then walked to the place where Alfred was always parked in order to pick her up. 

“Hello Miss Charlotte, did you have a good day at school?” Alfred questioned as he got out of the car to open the door for her. 

“It was fine.” 

“Now you’re not forgetting anything are you?” Charlotte froze like a deer in headlights, acting was not her strong suit. 

“No?” Neither was lying, just like her maman. 

Alfred opened the door for her and she quickly ducked inside, Alfred returned to his seat but didn’t move. He also didn’t lock the doors. 

“Miss Charlotte, why do you not want to go to the dance?” A simple question with a complicated answer, at least in her mind. 

“Everyone is gonna be there with their dad. I won’t because I don’t have a dad. I would be there with mom, I’d be the outcast.” 

“I don’t believe the gender of the parent you bring should matter as long as you have fun.” 

“It's called the Father Daughter dance for a reason Alfred.” 

“A simple label that should not matter Miss Charlotte.” He thought for a minute, “Tell me Miss Charlotte, will any of your friends care that you bring your mom?” 

She thought back to what Faith had been saying the entire week. “No.” 

“Will your classmates?” 

She thought again, she didn’t interact with her classmates a ton, but none of them seemed to mind the fact that she had 2 moms. “Probably not.” 

“Then what is the problem?” 

“It's just-I’ll look weird because I’m the only one with my mom. Everyone else will be there with their fathers and I’ll be there with my mother.”

“Like I stated before Miss Charlotte, it matters not the gender of the parent as long as you have fun with them. I have no doubt that some of your classmates will be their fathers but will be miserable.” 

Charlotte snapped her head up to look at him, like the mere thought of one of her classmates being miserable with their father at the Father Daughter dance was impossible. But it seemed reasonable, she knew quite a few of her classmates who talked fondly about their mothers but not their fathers. And when the subject of the Father Daughter dance came up, they never participated in the conversations unless asked, and their answers were never enthusiastic. Plus Alfred was always right, that’s what her mom, maman, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandfather taught her.

She nodded her head in determination, opening the car door and saying over her shoulder, “Be right back Alfred!” 

She pulled a 5 dollar bill out of her backpack pocket, one that had been haunting her for the past week. She made her way to the cafeteria then to the booth right next to it. 

“Hello Charlotte. Here to buy a ticket?” The lady, she’s pretty sure is a fifth grade teacher, asked.

“Yes ma’am.” She handed her the 5 dollar bill and received a small slip of paper in return.

“Remember to show that to the lady who will be at the entrance tomorrow. That’s the only way she’ll let you in. Promise not to lose it?” 

“I promise.” She smiled at the woman before racing back to where Alfred was waiting. 

-

“Mom! Maman!” Charlotte called as she entered the manor. Not hearing their voices she assumed they were in the kitchen so she went to her room to drop her backpack off and change into some more comfy clothes. 

After changing out of her uniform and into some leggings and a t-shirt she made her way to the kitchen where she found her moms. 

Her maman was baking something, probably cookies, while her mom watched her, occasionally handing her ingredients. It wasn’t an uncommon sight for Charlotte, in fact they had family baking days every Sunday. The only hard part was getting their attention, since whenever they baked they were always in their own little world together. 

Her eyes caught the frosting that she was guessing her maman had just finished making. Perfect. 

She made her way over to the bowl, grabbed the spoon, and took a big bite of the sweet treat. And as predicted,

“Charlotte!”

She turned and there her maman stood staring at her, hands on her hips as she tried to fight the smile off her face. Her mom was trying to hold back her giggling in the background. 

“Hi maman. Hi mom.” 

“Why are you eating frosting? When you know you’re not allowed.” Her maman gave her a pointed look. 

“It was the only way to get your attention.” 

“She’s not wrong Nette.” Steph interjected, coming up to stand next to Charlotte. She crouched down so she was at Charlotte’s level, “Did you get the ticket.”

“Yes, it's in my backpack.” 

“Ok make sure you don’t lose it. We all know you have your maman’s memory.” 

“Hey! My memory is not that bad!” Marinette protested. 

“Anymore. We all know what your memory was like when you were younger.” Steph reminded. 

“...Fine. I’ll give you that.” 

“Can I help frost the cookies?” Charlotte asked.

“Of course my little ladybug. Pinkie promise not to eat any frosting?” Steph held out her pinkie to Charlotte. 

“Yes mom!” Charlotte held out her pinkie, returning the promise. 

-

“Charlotte! Are you almost ready!” Steph shouted from outside her room. 

“Almost ready mom!” Charlotte replied as she adjusted the golden colored clip in her hair. 

“Charlotte you look great.” Marinette came to stand next to her in the mirror. 

Charlotte ran her hands down her black and gold dress for the umpteeth time. Whatever she did, something just didn’t look right. But she didn’t know what.

“Something doesn’t look right.” 

“I think I have an idea of what might help,” Marinette took a gold necklace off her neck, “Here you go.” 

“Wait Maman, isn’t this your favorite necklace.” 

“It is, but I think for tonight it’ll look best with you.” Marinette put the necklace around Charlotte’s neck and clipped it in the back. “There, what do you think?” 

“I love it,” She turned around and hugged Marinette, “Thank you Maman!” 

“Of course my beautiful baby bat. Now don’t keep your mom waiting.” 

Charlotte opened the door and met her mom’s face on the other side. 

“Well look at you little ladybug, ready to go?” Steph held her arm out to Charlotte. 

“Yes mom.” Charlotte took her arm as they headed outside where Alfred was waiting. 

They seated themselves in the back of the car when Steph noticed the necklace. 

"Charlotte, where did you get that necklace?" 

"Maman gave it to me. Do you like it?" 

"Yes, very much. It even goes with your dress." 

"It kinda goes with your dress too."

"I see, did Maman ever tell you how she got that necklace?"

"No, why?"

"We have arrived Miss Stephanie and Miss Charlotte." Alfred spoke.

"I'll tell you later." Steph promised. 

“You better.” Charlotte grumbled as they got out of the car, unsure if her mom actually heard her. 

-

“They’re pretty cute huh?” A man asked Stephanie. Both parents were watching their respective daughters dance together, the two girls forgetting about their parents that sat only a few feet away. 

“Adorable. I’m Stephanie, by the way, Charlotte’s mom.” She held her hand out to the man. 

“Ethan, Jasmine’s dad.” He returned the handshake. 

“I don’t suppose we could arrange some playdates in the future?”

“Of course we can. If I don’t tell Jazzy that she can see her friend again then she’ll have a riot.”

“Well would you look at that! Both of our children have at least one thing in common!” 

“Here you can put my number in here.” He slid her his phone. 

“And you can put yours in mine.” She handed her phone over.

After putting their information in the other’s phone, they both took their respective phones back and glanced at the names.

“Well Mrs. Brown-Wayne, it seems we will be seeing each other quite a lot in the future.” 

“It seems we will Mr. Cook.”

-

Marinette got a video sent to her later that night. From her lovely wife. She opened up the video to see her daughter dancing with another girl. It seemed she had inherited another one of her traits, the inability to hide her blush. 

Marinette giggled to herself as she watched her daughter continue to dance with the unknown girl. It seemed like the other girl was having fun too, if the smile she was wearing and the glow in her eyes told her anything. 

The video was followed by a text, ‘I think there will be many more playdates in the future.’ 

Marinette smiled to herself as she tucked her phone away. Fully planning on getting answers the next day on this mysterious girl who had captured her daughter’s heart. Young love was always so cute to watch.

-

“Maman?” Charlotte asked as she was being tucked into bed, the night’s events had taken a toll on her. In the comfort of her bed she was struggling to keep her eyes open. 

“Yes my baby bat?” Marinette asked as she sat on her bed. 

“Mom never told me how you got that necklace,” She lazily pointed to the necklace that had returned to its original place on Marinette’s neck, “Can you?”

“That’s quite the story, maybe when you're older.”

“Aw, but mom said she would.”

“Did she say she’d tell you later?” 

“Uh...yes.” 

“When mom says later, she really means not for a long time.”

“Oh…”

“How about about this, in around five years-” 

“Five years!” 

“Yes, when you're 15, the age I met your mom, I’ll tell you the story.”

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

“Pinky promise?” Charlotte held her pinkie out.

“Pinky promise.” Marinette linked her pinky with her daughter’s. 

“Okay goodnight Mom.” Charlotte snuggled into the blankets and closed her eyes. 

“Goodnight sweetie.” Marinette gave her a light kiss on the forehead. 

She made her way out of the room, silently closing the door, before making her way to her and her wife’s bedroom. She entered and heard her wife getting ready in the bathroom so she sat down on the bed and waited. 

She didn’t have to wait long as only a few minutes later her wife came out of the bathroom and sat down with her on the bed. 

“Hey what’s on your mind?” Steph asked as Marinette laid her head on her shoulder. Her hand subconsciously fiddling with the gold necklace that sat on her neck. 

“Did you tell Charlotte that you would tell her the story of how you got me the necklace?” Marinette got straight to the point, she had learned that sometimes it was much better than beating around the bush. 

“Maybe.” 

“Stephanie.” 

“What! She asked and-” 

“You should know better! The necklace has to do with how we met!” 

“Yeah but-” 

“No buts! You know we didn’t meet the most child friendly way!”

“I know, I just thought that she would forget about it after the dance.”

“I told her I would tell her when she turns 15, now she’s going to be counting down the days till then.” 

“I’m sorry Nette.”

“It’s okay Steph, I just wish we had a little time before she knew.” 

“She was going to find out eventually, at least now we have a date to prepare ourselves.” 

Marinette’s mind went back to a time where her only worries were what to wear for her next date with Stephanie. Where she didn’t have to worry about her best friend dying, or the grief that followed. 

“Come on let’s not worry about it tonight.” Steph brought her out of her stupor. 

“Yeah, goodnight Steph.”

“Goodnight Nette.”

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

You have literally no idea how long this took me to write. There will be part 2, I kinda left you guys hanging, but that won’t be for a long time. Anyways I do hope that you enjoyed, like I said in day 24 of Maribat March, Story, I will be posting 2 of these each time I come back from the dead. Now I am going to go finish school work so I don’t fail! Who knows when you’ll see me next?

@maribatmarch-2k21 

[feralphoenix]

HOWMST BELL THE CAT? - A treatise on one aspect of how the Pale King sealed the Radiance

sup hollow knight fandom, i’m back with the picante takes again after having Noticed A Thing.

as with my previous essays i’ll put this guy up on dreamwidth later for accessibility purposes, since my layout text may be too small for high-res pc users. i will attach that in a reblog at a later point.

CONTENT WARNINGS FOR TONIGHT’S PROGRAM: This essay discusses canon-typical body horror and bodily boundary violations, with some side mentions of colonialism.

all game screencaps are mine. the screencap of the wiki is from the “developer notes” (style guide) section of the “cut content” page.

ALSO: if youre from a christian cultural upbringing (whether currently practicing, agnostic/secular, or atheist now), understand that some of what i’m discussing here may challenge you. if thinking thru the implications of this particular part of hollow knight worldbuilding/lore is distressing for you, PLEASE only approach this essay when youre in a safe mindset & open to listening, and ask the help of a therapist or anti-racism teacher/mentor to help you process your thoughts & feelings. just like keep in mind that youre listening to an ethnoreligiously marginalized person and please be respectful here or wherever else youre discussing this dang essay, ty

HOWMST BELL THE CAT? - A treatise on one aspect of how the Pale King sealed the Radiance

We understand more or less how the Pale King’s plan was supposed to work. Stuff Radiance into a no-thoughts-head-empty and silent Pure Vessel to trap, isolate, and silence her, both putting an end to the Infection and killing her for good. Stick that vessel in the Black Egg, which harnesses Void BS to both keep the vessel alive indefinitely and to cover Hallownest (and its neighbors) in a time-defying stasis so that the Pale King could successfully hoard his favorite shiny FOREVER, threatened by nothing. Then put a seal on the Black Egg to prevent anyone from getting inside and harming said vessel while it’s strung up and helpless. And THEN, put protective seals on the anchors (the Dreamers) to the Black Egg seal to protect them from any external harm: The stasis means the Dreamers won't die of old age or starvation.

All in all, a pretty foolproof plan!

...except that the Dreamers are still vulnerable to having their minds breached with the moths’ magic... and the Pale King failed to take into account that his Pure Vessel was a person actually and the amount of toxic stress his training/upbringing put on them made them REALLY POORLY SUITED FOR THEIR JOB... and also that killing 99% of his million children and turning the Abyss into a landfill for baby corpses would take enough of an emotional toll on his wife and #1 enabler the White Lady that she would walk out on him, ensuring he’d only ever have one shot at this whole deal...

Basically it’s the sort of plan that an emotionally constipated, low-empathy sort of guy who pours all his points into INT and has a big fat zero for WIS might think is foolproof. It has big holes in it that the Pale King did not consider to be big holes until he got owned by the various consequences of his actions and fell down said big holes, making the shocked pikachu face all the while. Rip in die, my guy.

Anyway, there’s a lot of incidental information scattered about the game that gives us more insight into the stages of TPK’s plan. Looking at Monomon’s notes in the Archive suggests that she was probably involved in designing the Black Egg; the hidden room in the Weavers’ den points to their being the ones to blueprint the Dreamer seal; the White Palace’s hidden rooms reveal both TPK’s morbid fascination with the Void and his mea culpa wrt his motives and the Path of Pain is certainly suggestive of a lot of things. The White Lady tells us straight out that she walked out on the Pale King because she wanted no part in a second vessel batch, but how TPK didn’t handle that is only revealed via map design and some incidental dialogue from the Old Stag.

This stuff presents us with, if not a full picture, then at least a decent connect-the-dots of certain aspects of crater politics and Pale Court drama at the time, and how exactly TPK’s plan came together.

But there is still one glaring question that these cookie crumbs do not provide us an answer to:

Who shall bell the cat?

How did TPK et al manage to stuff Radiance into Hollow in the first place?

This is the subject of a lot of memes and jokes within the fandom because it's so absurd. Radiance fuckin hates that dude! She’s probably gonna be pretty wary of him considering how he stole her people in the first place! And considering the anti-colonialism slant of the writing - beyond the general sympathetic view Team Cherry gives of each indigenous bug society, Seer makes it very clear that Radiance has very good reason to take violent action against Hallownest - the answer is probably not something like “she’s just that stupid” or “she rolled a crit fail”.

Well... I have an idea of how TPK managed to get Radiance in there. It raises about as many questions as it answers, mind, but it may be someplace to start.

[desc: the hollow knight's entry in the hunter’s journal. top text/ghost’s comment reads: “Fully grown Vessel, carrying the plague’s heart within its body.” bottom text/hunter’s comment says: “The old King of Hallownest... he must have been desperate to save his crumbling little world. The sacrifices he imposed on others... all for nothing.”]

Here we have Hollow’s bestiary entry. Most of what we’re concerned with here is the top text, which says the seal has literally trapped Radiance inside their body. (First of all, ew, TPK.)

We already knew Radiance is literally actually inside Hollow, though: The Infection is leaking out of their body, and to get to fight Radiance, Ghost has to go traipsing into their sibling’s mind. So what’s significant about that here?

[desc: screencap of the outside of the black egg temple, post-infected crossroads. there are large infection blobs in the foreground and background, connected to each other by veins that come from inside the temple.]

The infection blobs are weird and get weirder if you kill enough Lightseeds for the Hunter to tell you their origin story, i.e. that the literal actual sun has been having a very long bad day and cried a lot, and some of the liquid coalesced into living flesh, and some of that living flesh took on a mind of its own to become Lightseeds. (Hollow Knight is a WILD place.)

Lightseeds are Radiance’s accidental children and share a lot of her traits: They are harmless creatures that try to avoid conflict if possible but if pushed will get creative and find ways to fight regardless of their physical limitations. (For the Lightseeds this involves hiding inside Broken Vessel’s corpse and puppeting it around to try to stab you.) They even have her same distinctive yell. And according to the Hunter, they’re born from the infection blobs. These enemies only ever appear in the Ancient Basin, which both Radiance and the Void have ransacked, and in the Infected Crossroads.

The infection blobs are connected to and sort of a weird extension of Radiance because the Infection itself is sort of a weird extension of Radiance. In the game’s internal style guide Team Cherry explains that the Infection started as an accident, not her original intention but what happened when Hallownest tried to block her out.

[desc: screencap from the wiki of style notes attached to seer that describe a sketch of radiance’s finalized backstory. text reads: “The moth tribe were (perhaps) descended from Radiance. However, the King convinced them somehow to seal Radiance away. I guess so he could rule Hallownest with his singular vision, as a god/monarch with no other gods. The moths sealed Radiance away by forgetting about her. Hallownest was born and flourished. However, the memory of Radiance lingered (eg [sic] the statue at hallownest’s crown) and soon she began to reappear in dreams and starting [sic] exerting influence. The King and the bugs of Hallownest resisted this memory/power and it started to manifest as the Infection. Thus the first attempt to seal Radiance failed, and the King had to try another method - the Vessel.” emphasis mine.]

Some fans have posited the blobs as deposits of pupa juice, but given Team Cherry's description of the Infection’s origins I don’t know how likely that is. Since the Void also sticks its squamous tentacles into things via veiny looking things and the Nightmare’s Heart has similar veiny nonsense in the Nightmare Realm, I wonder if it isn’t just a Meddly God Shit thing in general.

Whatever the case, the blobs are very much connected to/a part of Radiance.

And when you’re hanging around them, you will notice two things: They pulse like they’re part of a circulatory system, and you can hear Radiance's heartbeat emanating from them.

[desc: screencap of the game’s title screen with the infected menu theme in use: a glowing orange ball at the center of a lot of black tendony webbing.]

Let’s also think of the Infected menu theme, which you unlock after getting either of the endings where Ghost takes over from Hollow and absorbs Radiance out of them. Ghost is infected and then sealed inside the Black Egg in Hollow's place. It’s suggested by the animation’s staging that Radiance briefly struggles to get out of Ghost after absorbed but is ultimately stuck in them, at which point the seal is reestablished.

If you haven’t used the Infected menu theme yourself, the... interesting thing about it is that it moves organically. The light ball expands and contracts - y’know, sort of like a living organ - and so does the black webby stuff around it.

Also, Radiance’s heartbeat is included in the theme's ambiance.

[desc: hollow’s bestiary entry again]

To cut to the chase, this part of Hollow’s bestiary entry that says “the plague’s heart”? I don’t think that’s just Ghost/Team Cherry being poetic. I think there’s a good chance it’s LITERAL.

I think TPK is the sort of person who could cram a native woman’s literal living beating heart inside his own child’s body so they can use it as... say, a focus to absorb and trap her mind/spirit inside their body, too. Mr. No Cost Too Great is capable of a lot in the name of keeping other people’s claws off his Big Shiny kingdom. This is kind of his whole brand.

But also, like, yuck.

This fits the worldbuilding too; generally speaking Hollow Knight is Body Horror City. Also there’s the case of Grimm: While he and Radiance are loose counterparts at best with WILDLY disparate outlooks and ethoses, his existence serves as precedent that a Higher Being’s heart specifically can be separate from the rest of them.

As I said before, though, this DOES raise as many questions as it answers. If this is another piece in the puzzle of how TPK belled the cat, we’re now left wondering how he got Radiance’s heart to use as Hollow's focus to begin with.

We know he has access to the Dream Realm because that’s ultimately where he hid when Hollow’s seal failed, but who did he send to do the stealing and how did they get away with it? (TPK certainly wouldn’t have gone; his own life’s the one cost too great for him to willingly pay.) Was Radiance’s heart separate from her like the Nightmare’s Heart, or was it a part of her body? (I think the latter is more likely just from her personality; Grimm’s hidden heart makes sense because of how he keeps even his own servants at arm’s length emotionally, whereas Radiance is all heart all the time. I think this makes more sense with their equal opposites schtick too. But this would make for a WAY riskier mission.)

I can imagine all kinds of possibilities. None of them are definitive, but the thing they have in common is that they are all Awful... and how on-brand that is for Hollow Knight as a whole is, maybe, the most persuasive argument for It’s Literally Actually Her Real Physical Heart there could be.

[yandere-society]

Ih-pif-uh-nee

Synopsis: After successfully finding matches for humans for a millennia, Cupid grows irritated when he repeatedly fails to find YN’s soulmate. He decides to go undercover and disguise himself as a normal human to attempt to get closer to her, only to become convinced that HE is the mate he’s been searching for all along.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Admin: @chimchimsauce​

Valentine’s Day Event Masterlist

Trigger warnings: yandere-themes, stallking

Cupid is on cloud nine, staring up into the painted sky, the soft coldness of a cloud caressing his large, folded wings. As the sun slowly begins to sink, the god of love rolls onto his stomach, dragging his finger through a passing cloud.

Another day, another match made in heaven. Satisfaction warms Cupid’s heart as he thinks of the young couple he recently paired up - a rich girl from a very influential family and a poor young man struggling to put himself through college. Pairings like that have always been Cupid’s favorite. Unlikely love always blooms faster, roots deeper into the lives of those he strikes with his arrows.

As the sun falls completely beneath the Earth and the moon rises to shine, Cupid sits up, reaching into the sky to pluck a falling star from above. The star shines brightly in his cupped hands, glowing before Cupid cracks it open like an Easter egg to reveal his latest assignment.

While the god is ultimately in control of his matches, every so often, Aphrodite will send tell him of someone special, someone who will require a bit more than a few well-timed coincidental meetings and an arrow to the chest. His mother’s always been a bit of a know it all and a meddler, so it’s not terribly unusual for her to push her own agenda through her son.

Cupid sighs. It’s nearing Valentine’s Day, so hopefully, he’ll have a bit more luck with this assignment than he did with the last one. Last time it took Cupid a fortnight to get the seed of love planted deep enough between a cynical old man and the lady he’d worked with for over two decades. But still, Cupid’s never been unable to make a spark between two people, not even when he was younger and would shoot arrows at random people just for fun.

Of course, he’s matured significantly since then. He doesn’t play such games anymore.

Reading the note he pulls from the star, Cupid reads the name.

YN LN

There’s nothing particularly remarkable about the name. He’s heard it before, used by other people throughout the years. The photograph he’s been given also does not stir anything in him. He wonders briefly what his mother is planning, sending him this assignment without any context. Usually, she’ll at least send some background information on the person and who she wants them to end up with, but there’s nothing else in the star but her name and photo.

Cupid seals the star back, tossing it as far into the sky as he can, letting it return to orbit. He places the photograph into the folds of his angelic garment, standing up and stepping off of the cloud, plummeting towards the Earth’s surface.

He might as well get started now.

Cupid lands gently on a large hill overlooking a sleepy college town, bare feet touching the soft grass. He disappears into the night as he descends upon the town, slipping between dimensions as only gods can do.

It practically takes him no time at all to locate her, YN studying diligently at a library that looks as old as Cupid himself is. Quietly, he lets his presence rest beside her, eyes going over her form, trying to figure out what’s so special about her that she caught his mother’s attention. She’s pretty enough for a human but her face isn’t anything you’d double take on. She almost seems . . . plain.

Cupid can’t help but be a little disappointed. He’d hoped this assignment would be interesting, but it seems like it’ll end up being a bore after all. He’s half tempted to just shoot her and be done with it, but he has a feeling his mother won’t be pleased with him if he does that.

Deciding to give this assignment his all (if for no other reason than not having to put up with one of his mom’s hissy fits) Cupid spends the next few days trailing YN, figuring out her habits, likes, and dislikes. He even sets up a few matches - the guy in her class, one of her pretty friends, a worker in the local grocery store - but to no avail.

Despite shooting the girl with three arrows, not even a lick of love sparks within her. YN just continues her monotonous life, boring the hell out of Cupid.

After an entire week of this, Cupid grows impatient and decides to handle this matter even more personally.

Transforming into human form, Cupid feels the elements against his skin for the first time since . . . he shakes that thought out of his head. A little bit of persuasion is all it takes to get him a new identity and set up at a small bed and breakfast just a few minutes’ walk from YN’s dorm.

He has it all planned perfectly. He’ll run into her at the coffee shop she works part-time at and befriend her, using their time together to find her perfect match. He’s never had to put in this much effort before.

But as soon as Cupid walks into the coffee shop, the little bell over the door rings and the two of them lock eyes, the god’s breath catching in his throat. She smiles at him, the very first time she’s smiled since he’s been trailing her.

Something pulls at his subconscious, just out of reach. Whatever it is is familiar, comforting to him. He doesn’t realize that he’s staring until she clears her throat uncomfortably.

“How may I help you?” she asks.

“I . . . just a coffee, please. Black,” he says once he’s regained a bit of his sense.

“Sure thing. What name would you like me to put it under?” YN asks, already beginning to create the drink.

“Jimin,” he says before he can stop himself, his true name tumbling out between his lips.

Because she’s faced away from him, YN doesn’t notice the shocked look on Jimin’s face. His hand covering his mouth. He can’t believe he said that!

The name ‘Jimin’ was given to him over a thousand years ago, by someone he can’t remember. His mother forbade him from using it and he’s gone by Cupid ever since. So why . . .

“Your total is $3.50. Will that be all for you today?”

“Yes,” Jimin says, rummaging through his pockets to pull out some money he’d manifested earlier that day.

The coffee shop is empty besides the two of them, Jimin choosing to sit by the glass storefront while YN hums quietly to herself, wiping down the counters and tidying up. Soon though, it becomes apparent through his side-eyed watch that she’s out of things to do, just sort of idling around. It’s only then that he god of love remembers that he’s on a mission.

“So uh,” he speaks up, the coffee cup warming his hands, “I’m new in town and I was wondering if you knew of what all there is to do?”

Jimin hates how unconfident he sounds. It’s so unlike him.

“Well,” she begins, grateful for a distraction, “There isn’t all that much to do. It is a rather small town after all.”

“Surely there must be something,” Jimin pushes, really eager to speak with her.

“Hm,” she begins, “There’s actually this very pretty underground lake. You can only see it once every couple of weeks because the cave it’s in is usually flooded - it rains here a lot by the way - but it’s absolutely gorgeous,”

“I’ll have to go sometime,”

Over the course of that singular trip to the coffee shop, Cupid completely forgets that YN is supposed to be an assignment. He becomes completely and utterly enthralled with her and her boring little life. The gods always have something going on, some drama or scandal or fight. It’s so nice just to be able to relax with someone - to actually become close to someone. Jimin sees YN every day. First, he just stops by to get a morning coffee, but soon enough he ends up walking her home after her shift ends and helping her study at the library.

Every expression of hers he has memorized. He lies awake at night and thinks about her, anxious to spend time with her again. It consumes his entire being, is his motivation for his every decision.

Until . . .

Until . . .

Until two months later, when the most gorgeous woman alive is at his doorstep. His mother catches the attention of everyone who walks by, sending one gentleman a flirtatious wink and causing him to walk into a pole.

“What are you doing here, Mother?” Jimin asks sharply, less than thrilled to see her.

“Checking on you,” she says, eyeing him up and down with a hand on her curved hip, “It seems you’ve gotten rather . . . distracted.”

Jimin bristles, growing visibly upset.

“I assigned you to find this girl a mate, not to fall for her,” Aphrodite says, her tone leaving no room for debate.

“I’m not falling for her,” Jimin hisses through his teeth, the lie obvious even to himself.

“You have one more week,” she threatens, “Or else.”

She doesn’t need to elaborate. Jimin knows his mother well enough to know whatever she has planned is awful.

As soon as she leaves, the god has an anger fit, trashing the small rented room he moved into just three weeks ago. He has to see her - he has to go be with YN. She’s the only thing that can calm him down enough for him to make a gameplan.

But as Jimin hurriedly makes his way to her house, he stops when he sees someone - an unfamiliar man - sitting on one of the dorm porch swings and chatting with her. The stranger looks up briefly, catching eyes with Jimin.

“Apollo,” Jimin curses, vision turning red from how pissed off he is.

Before YN can even blink, Jimin has Apollo by the throat, ignoring YN’s panicked cries.

“Stay away from her,” Jimin warms, nails digging into the other god’s skin, “You run and tell my mother to keep her nose out of my business. I’m done doing her dirty work for her.”

He tosses Apollo to the ground, unaware that he’s partially revealed his true form to the terrified young woman behind him. Apollo flashes away, clutching his own throat, fear in his eyes.

When Jimin finally turns towards YN, she’s petrified, a scream caught in her throat.

What’s going on? What had just happened?

“Oh, baby, no, don’t be worried,” Jimin coos, taking YN into his arms.

He doesn’t care that she’s as stiff as a board, immobilized by fear.

“The bad people are gone now. It’s just us, okay. You don’t have to be worried.”

His overly calm tone causes YN to snap out of her reverie, trying to pull away from the man she thought was a friend - the man she thought was human.

“I’m in love with you, YN,” he says, ignoring her attempts to flee and crushing her to his chest like a small child, “I didn’t think I could fall in love, but here I am. I think about you every waking moment, desperate to be around you, desperate to touch you. You feel it too, don’t you, YN?” Jimin says, a crazed look glossing his eyes.

Tears well up in YN’s eyes as she looks at him and realizes what danger she’s in.

“I know you do,” Jimin says, falsely taking her silence for agreement, “Kiss me.”

It’s a command, one she’s much too afraid to ignore. Trembling, Yn shakily presses her lips to his, unaware of the visions she’s just spawned in his head.

All at once, his memories come back to him, hitting the god-like a pile of bricks. He pulls back from her only briefly to wipe her tears away before recapturing her lips in a deeper kiss, never wanting to be parted from her again.

Psyche. His Psyche. The one he’d fallen in love with all those millennia ago, only to be ripped apart when his own mother killed her and their unborn child. No wonder she felt so familiar, so comforting. YN is his soulmate, no one else’s.

He wipes away every one of her continuously falling tears, moving to kiss her forehead.

“Don’t worry, darling. We’re going to be together for the rest of eternity . . . right after I kill my mother.”

[yourfinalbow]

Ack anon I'm sorry. Tumblr ate your ask and I'm 🔪 But I saved your ask to put on the Google Doc so don't fret! I have it!

“Hi Ghastie Ghast, I wanted to share a prompt with you lol. I decided to go more holiday theme’d because it’s never too early to get into the holiday spirit.

“Your favorite winter drink was back on the menu, so I decided to surprise you with it.”

Please enjoy this prompt lmao”

The nickname made me -_- but hi Little Gray Circle Dude With Sunglasses! Thank you for sending me this! I had fun writing it. I'm assuming you wanted a Destiel fic, so that's what I wrote! (Also bonus points for Saileen as a background ship?) I sort of strayed a little from the prompt and the tone gets heavier as it goes on… 👀 I also accidentally wrote more than intended, so you can read it on Ao3 if that's easier. (And maybe give it a kudos because you’re the best?)

Title: Black Coffee Derangement Syndrome

Ship(s): Dean Winchester/Castiel, Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy.

(Basic) Tags: Fluff, Slight Angst, Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker, Established Dean/Cas, Established Sam/Eileen, Using black coffee as a metaphor for hypermasculinity, With a whip cream style topping of internalized homophobia. *Finger guns.*

Warnings: Coffee gatekeeping and small sections of fluff that are as sweet as Cas’s Starbucks order. Also I’ve been to Starbucks once. Maybe twice? (Also a single mention of a drug that's commonly found as white powder, the non-descriptive comparison of Sam’s stupid health stuff with emesis, and use of the name that the figurehead for Germany in WW2 bore, just to be safe.)

Rating: T? Maybe? For language?

Word Count: 9k+

Quick thanks to my awesome beta @walksinstarllight! They are a poet and a writing sorcerer (wizard without a hat), and the only reason this fic even makes sense so please go shower them in kudos. (You can find their work here.)

Another thanks to @internetintroverts, who described a peppermint mocha to me in like 300 words because I drink black coffee and know nothing of anything ever. You can find their work here! (There's an Easter egg of one of their fics in this one hehe.)

The first thing Dean did when Cas got back from the Empty was give him coffee.

Okay no.

The first thing he did was fall into Cas’s arms and grip that stupid trenchcoat until his knuckles turned white. Shaking and laughing with hot tears streaming out of his eyes, he told him he was an asshole for leaving him like that. And to never, ever do it again. With blurry eyes and all other thoughts hazy, he told Cas he could have it, he could have what he wanted. Whatever he wanted. He told Cas he loved him too.

But then the next thing was coffee.

Caffeine is a hunter’s number one best friend, and since Cas was human again, Dean knew Sam was going to come at him with his stupid green health drinks and herbal tea. As Cas’s knight in shining armour, (a title used by Dean and Dean only), it was his duty to protect him from the disgustingly liquified rabbit food.

Now he expected Cas to like black coffee, you know, like a normal person.

But no, oh no. Apparently, he was dating a heathen.

Dean had to actually rub his eyes the first time he watched Cas fix his own coffee. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, mouth agape.

Cas was leaning on the counter, humming some song that Dean could neither recognize, nor would he approve of, thank-you-very-much.

(Ok it was Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift and it's entirely possible he's listened to it once or twice but he still doesn't approve of it, thank-you-very-much.)

He held his yellow and black striped, bee-themed ceramic mug Eileen had bought him in one hand, and the entire five-pound bag of cane sugar in the other. And there he stood, happy as can be, pouring it directly into his mug.

Dean rubbed his eyes again.

And not even like, a normal amount either.

He just kept pouring, and pouring, and Oh my god he’s still pouring. Dean thought. It would honestly be more believable if it wasn’t sugar at all, and instead was in fact Cas’s secret stash of cocaine.

Dean might actually have to put sugar on the grocery list after he was finished.

His thoughts traveled back to Ishim doing the same thing with his coffee, in the tiny little diner Cas had set up as a meeting place. Dean had barged in that day, not thinking of his brother mocking him, or the possibility of danger inside. His vision was as tunneled as his thoughts  focused only on Cas, not caring about anything else.

By that time the following day, Dean thought they were both going to die. The bloody and uneven sigil on the wall, Cas no more than ten feet away. Not quite within a comforting reach. The room was spinning from the blow to his head, and he could barely make out the words being spat from Ishim’s mouth.

“You blast me away, you’ll blast away every angel in the room. I’ll survive. Castiel, on the other hand, he’s hurt. He might live, or he might just end up a bloody smear on the wall.”

He almost lost Cas that day.

The blood rushed to his ears as his instincts sought out the mark on the wall. Ishim had told him to roll the dice, but in his head he couldn’t look past the chance of rolling a one. Watching the acrylic cube bounce until it decided Cas’s fate. There was no dilemma, there wasn’t even a decision to be made. He would always choose Cas over himself. Silent acts of care he could never vocalize.

An inability to speak formed from fear and cowardice. Like a lion in his stomach scratching at the words until they fell back down his throat.

And it was that inability to speak that led Cas to think he was nothing more than a tool for the Winchester’s to use.

He almost let Cas believe he meant nothing to him.

Dean cleared his throat. “Mornin’ Sunshine.”

Cas set down the bag of sugar and picked up the pot, the glass making a small clink as it hit the top of the coffee maker. “Goodmorning Dean. Would you like any coffee?” He greeted cheerfully, turning around like he hadn't just put enough sugar to make a pound cake in his coffee.

“Uh.” Dean was still caught off-guard by Willie Wonka over there. “Sure Cas.” He took the coffee pot from his hand and muttered a thank you.

“So,” Cas started while Dean reached into the cabinet for his own mug. “What ingredient do you suggest I put in my coffee this morning?”

“Uh...I don't know man. I drink my coffee black.”

“Yes I know you’re boring Dean, but you can still help me not be.”

“Black coffee isn't boring it's-”

“Dean, if you say ‘manly,’ I will sit you down and make you eat only spinach and kale for a week.” Sam said, walking into the kitchen, hair still spiked up from sleep. He used one hand to sign the words, his other one occupied by Eileen, who was sleepily shuffling closely behind.

Dean looked aghast. “I would starve.” He attempted to sign his indignant response, hands moving sloppily while holding both his mug and the coffee pot.

“I think that's the point.” Eileen said, laughing. She looked at Cas. “Is Dean gatekeeping your coffee aspirations again?”

“Yes.” He answered, ignoring Sam’s laugh and Dean’s huff of exaggerated outrage.

“Have you tried cinnamon?” Sam suggested. “You like Dean’s apple pie, and that has cinnamon in it.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Sam. Dean told me not to ever take cooking advice from you.“

“And I stand by that.” Dean interjected suddenly.

“I can cook!”

“Ehhh…” Eileen’s comment bought her a look of betrayal. “Though Sam may be right on this one, you might like it.” She shrugged.

“See.”

Cas pondered the thought for a moment. “Perhaps I will then.”

“Do we have nutmeg?” Eileen said, breaking away from Sam’s grip to check one of the cabinets. He walked to the other side of the kitchen, intending to look through the spice rack, knowing exactly what his girlfriend was getting at.

“You better not mess up my damn kitchen.” He said quickly. “Or you're organising them all next time.”

Sam rolled his eyes, knowing full well Dean would never let him organise the kitchen. Eileen looked through them, carefully turning the bottles around until the labels faced her. She pulled out the cinnamon and clove while she was looking for the nutmeg.

“Found it.” Sam called from the other side of the kitchen, walking over and putting a hand on Eileen’s shoulder.

“Thank you.” She said with a smile, grabbing the plastic spice jars.

She individually tossed each one to Cas. “Use these, it will taste like a pumpkin spice latte.”

“And don't forget the milk.” Sam added.

Cas scrambled to catch the spices, successfully grabbing two of them out of the air, the third one intercepted by Dean.

“What’s a pumpkin spice latte?” He looked at Eileen before snatching the bottle of cinnamon from Dean.

“It's a famous drink you can get at Starbucks.” Sam answered.

Cas tilted his head to the side and squinted at him. “What's a Starbucks?”

“You know, the coffee shop Alex and Patience drag Jody to all the time.” Dean said.

“I’m pretty sure Donna drags her there too.” Sam added. “Something about girl’s date night out.”

“The one Claire says is for ‘basic bitches’?” He lifted his hands, forming air quotes as he spoke.

“Yeah.” Dean answered, quietly laughing. “That's the one. She’s probably right, too.”

Cas carefully put the different spices in his coffee, eyeing the mug warily. His light brown coffee now had specs of...stuff in it.

(And unbeknownst to him, there was also a small pile of sugar at the bottom, the coffee so saturated it wouldn't dissolve any more.)

Eileen laughed at the look on his face. “It's good, I promise.”

Sam turned to look at her. “How would you know? Most of the time you get hot chocolate and spike it with bourbon.”

“You’re the one who gets a Pink Drink.”

Dean choked on his coffee. “What?”

“It's strawberry and coconut milk, and it's delicious.”

“Sure it is Sam.” Eileen jabbed.

“So what I'm getting here is that not only have you two been to Starbucks often enough to have a regular order, but Sam gets something called a ‘Pink Drink’?”

“No…” Sam started, trying to find a way to defend them. “Sometimes we…”

“...Make our own drinks.” Eileen snapped her fingers as she finished for him, attempting to save them from the endless stream of good-natured insults Dean would throw at them otherwise.

“Well you two are a real Martha Stewart, aren't you?”

“Yeah, except she's a convicted criminal.” Sam attempted to snark back.

“So are you!”

Before either of them could respond, Cas shoved his mug into Dean's face. “You have to try this, Dean. It tastes like pumpkin pie.”

Dean carefully grabbed the hot mug from Cas and took a sip. He was right, it did taste kinda like pumpkin pie. He took another sip, letting the pleasant flavor sit on his tongue. The different spices mixed perfectly together.

“I mean it's… okay.” He lied.

Dean contemplated his pumpkin themed food options. “Though I would rather just have pumpkin pie.”

Cas took his mug back. “Fine. More for me.” He said with a smirk, mimicking the look Dean gives him every time Cas says he doesn't want anymore bacon, before taking another sip of the makeshift pumpkin spice coffee.

Dean smiled at him, setting his own mug down and moving Cas’s out of the way to pull him into a kiss. He could smell the nutmeg almost as much as he could taste the cinnamon on his lips.

“Mmm we should bake pumpkin pie tonight.” He said, pulling away just enough so he could talk.

“I would like that.” Cas answered. “All four of us could make pie. According to the 'mom blogs', as you call them, it would be a good family bonding exercise.”

“That’s right. And if they want any pie, they gotta help make it. That means more for us if they refuse.” He grinned.

“A win-win situation, really.” Cas smiled before tugging Dean close so their lips met again.

“I love you.” Dean muttered.

“I love you too.” Cas said softly.

Behind their backs Sam and Eileen were fake-gagging at their sickly sweet interaction, but secretly just glad the two of them had finally gotten over their stubborn (and oblivious) selves.

Sam was honestly overjoyed to see his brother finally happy. He would even go as far as saying finally willing to be himself, too. (Not that he would ever say this outloud. Sam can practically see Dean’s eyes roll farther back into his head than should be possible at the words.) All four of them had gone through more shit in the last few months than any normal person would in their entire life. They were all just lucky to be alive, and with that, learning how to savour the little moments of overly sweet normalcy.

(And the pumpkin spice-life Dean had secretly been longing for since they were little kids.)

So of course they were going to help bake pie.

---

“I want to try Starbucks.” Cas said the next morning, both of them still in bed.

Dean groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Can I ask why, or is this one of those, 'I'll tell you later’ disasters like with the slime ingredients?”

“I want to try all the human things that I didn't get to try last time.” He said offhandedly.

Dean pictured Cas’s hurt face when he had told him he couldn’t stay, smile broken as Dean’s own heart shattered from the look the newly-human angel was giving him.

He wanted to tell him it was going to be okay, that Cas himself wasn’t the reason, but the lion in his stomach clawed the words down faster than even the thought of ruining Sam’s chances at survival could.

With a pang of guilt from the memory, Dean pulled himself closer to Cas and rested his head on the other man’s chest. He wrapped his arms around him, trying to preserve as much warmth and comfort as he could until they had to inevitably get out of bed. “Only if you let me sleep like this for thirty more minutes.”

Cas smiled. “Oh, are we making deals now?”

“I’d sell my soul for you.” Dean said cheekily, which earned a glare from Cas. “Believe me, I know.”

After a beat he went on. “Fine, you have a deal.” Before Dean could celebrate by tugging the covers over their bodies, Cas added another clause to their agreement. “But... in true Crowley fashion, you have to seal the deal with a kiss.”

Dean lazily threw his arms into the air. “Victory.”

He turned over, pulling himself upwards until he was just inches from Cas. Cradling the angel-turned-Winchester’s head in his hands, Dean placed his lips on Cas’s, melting into the touch as he felt the other man’s arms wrap around his torso.

When he broke away from the kiss, Dean found himself face to face with the most beautiful smile he had ever laid eyes on, one born from adoration and love. Cas’s eyebrows were slightly scrunched up, but for once it wasn’t a sign of confusion when met with some obscure eighties rock reference. It was a tiny expression of care, and it was one that was truly Cas. Not Jimmy’s, not even one Cas had picked up from him or Sam. It was completely and wholly Cas, and a completely and wholly human thing to do.

He realized Cas had been doing that long before the Empty stole his grace.

Dean smiled back at him, relaxed. Like taking in a deep breath after being under murky water for forty years. He brushed a loose strand of soft, brown hair into its place, before falling back into his spot and closing his eyes. “Crowley would be proud.” He whispered with a soft laugh, smile deepening as Cas joined him.

When their quiet laughter died out, there was a pause, air stagnant and in its own sleepy haze

“Oh and Dean?”

“Hm?” Dean turned his head to look at him, eyes not failing to glow with their unusually bright, green pigment. He took a deep breath, the lids of his eyes already started to slowly fall back down again.

“The slime wasn't a disaster. You enjoyed it.”

“I did.” He muttered sleepily, a loose smile forming on his lips as he drifted off to sleep. Cas laid there, running his fingers through the other man’s hair, contentment and admiration showing itself in every feature on his face.

This was more than he could have ever wanted.

---

“Dean. Dean wake up.” Cas was excitedly whisper-shouting in his ear like a kid on Christmas morning. It was exactly thirty minutes later, (he had counted), and Cas was ready to get moving.

“No.” He answered back, mimicking Cas’s tone.

“But you’re like a cat.” He teased. “You're on me and I can't get up.”

Dean sighed. “I can't believe I let you talk me into this.”

“It didn't take much convincing.”

Dean rolled over to give Cas a playful glare, but was met with the saddest puppy dog eyes he had ever seen, completely throwing him off his guard.

“I'm going to kill Sam for teaching you that.”

Cas just continued to give him that look.

“Fine.” Dean relented, sitting up with a yawn and thinking about how he will now never be able to win another argument.

“Get dressed.” Cas said excitedly. “We're going to Starbucks.”

“Hooray.” He gave a sarcastic laugh, but a smile creeped on his lips.

They walked out of their room together, heading towards the bunker’s library. Dean slid in one of the chairs, turning Sam’s still-open laptop around and waking it up.

Cas, meanwhile, turned to a random page of the lore book resting on the table and started reading in an attempt to pass the time.

The sound of Dean typing filled the air. “So, I just looked it up, and do we have to go to Starbucks?”

“Yes.” Cas said simply, not looking up from the book.

Dean groaned. “Cas there isn't one in the county, let alone Lebanon. That's probably why Sam and Eileen make their own.”

“Where's the closest one?” Cas asked, his blinding, blue eyes glaring at the back of Sam’s computer like he was trying to will the coffee shop to be near.

“I thought it was across state lines and in Nebraska at first, but it looks like there's a small one in a town called Washington. It's about 80 miles from here.”

“Let's go!” Cas excitedly straightened his trenchcoat and headed towards the door.

“Or, we could leave Starbucks to the fourteen year old girls.”

Cas turned back around and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure their entire demographic is fourteen year old girls, staff included.”

Alright, smartass. Dean thought, struggling to hide a smile.

Cas walked out the door, expecting Dean to follow.

“It takes an hour to get there, our coffee’s going to be cold by the time we get home, and it's freezing outside.” Dean muttered under his breath, but he grabbed his keys off the table and stood up, willing to follow Cas to the ends of the earth if it meant he would stay with him.

Not that he was going to enjoy this trip. In fact, he was currently doing the opposite of enjoying, and they hadn’t even gotten into the car yet. Starbucks. Starbucks. Really, Cas? Of all the places he wanted to go, it had to be Starbucks. He couldn’t want to explore humanity through Target or something?

Even Claire wouldn’t be caught dead in that place, with all the frou-frou toppings, elaborate drink mixes, and colourful, drizzled syrup. The people who go to Starbucks are the kind of people who like coffee that doesn’t taste like coffee. Teenage girls who might as well just be drinking whip cream, and that was without considering the seasonal drinks they fawn over.

Seasonal drinks that shouldn’t legally be allowed to be referred to as coffee.

Dean couldn’t believe he ever agreed to this, but still, he begrudgingly followed.

---

Using the GPS on Cas’s phone, (Dean said his insane directional skills helped out too), they found the Starbucks relatively easily once they were in the little town.

They parked the Impala, and Dean looked at the modern building. The green lettering contrasted with the tan plaster walls, spelling “Starbucks.”

He heard Cas get out, his feet making a crunching noise as they hit the gravel, and watched from across the top of the car as he started towards the coffee shop. Dean looked at the building warily, reluctance painted on his face.

Cas was telling him some random fact about a bird he saw, but Dean could only think about his reputation that was about to shatter like a vase dropping on tile floor.

Reputation with who? He didn't know.

Well, he had a vague idea, but chose not to let his thoughts wander that far.

It was okay. This was fine. He could swallow his pride and-

“Ooh. The peppermint mocha looks good.” Cas was reading the limited edition drinks on the drive-thru menu as they traveled across the parking lot.

Dean was going to barf.

They walked into the building, immediately hit with the overwhelming smell of excessive amounts of flavoured syrup indoused coffee. Dean glanced around the well-lit building, taking note of the many different people there.

(He wasn’t about to have any black-eyed minions reporting his Starbucks order to a very judgmental Queen of Hell.)

Cas pushed Dean’s protesting body into the line, looking pleased with the many different options written on the menu overhead.

He enjoyed the small touch of Cas’s hands on his back, moving him forwards to the line, but was grateful Cas was careful not to let them linger there too long.

He was still wary about doing… this, in public.

He knew Cas was patiently waiting for him to be ready, so he didn't know how to tell him that he might never be.

The teenager working the cash register interrupted his train of thought. “What will it be for ya?”

“I would like a peppermint mocha please.”

“Alrighty. And you?”

“I'll take just a black coffee.”

The barista looked unimpressed. “And your names?”

Dean grinned. “John and John.”

“No relation.” Cas added.

The barista just sighed. “How do you want me to differentiate the two of ‘em then?”

“Oh you can put ‘John Bonham’ on mine.” Dean replied.

“Comin’ right up.” Their tone didn't change, still just full of apathy that could only be perfected by the work of a burnt-out teenager.

Dean and Cas walked down to the end of the counter and towards the pickup section. “Now tell me, Castiel.” He stressed his partner’s name. “Who’s John Bonham?”

Cas sighed, but the corner of his mouth upturned in a grin. “John Henry Bohnham, affectionately referred to as ‘Bonzo’, born in 1948 and was most well known for being the drummer of the rock band ‘Led Zeppelin’.”

“Mmm very close, but unfortunately you forgot the word ‘best’ in front of ‘rock band.’” Dean smirked before leaning in for a chaste kiss.

“You should have said I was ‘John Bon Jovi.’” Cas said, smiling.

“Why? Because you’re only good at this sometimes?” Dean closed the gap between them.

As soon as their lips met, Dean pulled away instinctively, realization hitting him like a hunter with a bat as his eyes widened in terror. “I-I'm sorry, I didn’t...” His words faltered as he looked around at the people sitting in the coffee shop, all of which were paying no mind to them.

He felt sick, guilt gnawing at him from a pit in his stomach.

“Hey, it's okay Dean. You know I'm perfectly fine with public displays of affection, and no one else even saw us. There's no need to apologize.”

“Yeah-h.” He said shakily. Before he could figure out who he was apologizing to, a voice from behind the counter called.

“I have an order for a mister ‘John’ and ‘John Bonham’.”

“That's us.” Dean spat the words out quickly, turning around to take them from the barista’s hand. He rushed out of the door, the small tinkling sound of the welcome bell and the blood rushing to his ears drowning out the sound of Cas’s call from behind.

He sat in the front seat of Baby, knowing he was being childish. Dean took a shaky breath and tried not to think about it.

About what the hell he was thinking, kissing Cas out in public like that. The judgemental eyes- black or not- that were watching. He thought about what his father would say, mind instantly going back to a moment in his childhood he has tried to forget since it happened, wondering where he went wrong.

About the time John had caught him and Lee, ignoring the weak excuses Dean was stuttering out. Skipping town faster than they had done in years.

About how the left side of his face had been a yellow-ish purple for weeks following, and the sore spot on his arm from where he caught the pavement as he flew towards it.

About how he had told Sam he just fell on a hunt. “Don't worry kid, you should have seen the vamp when I was done with him.” He swung his fist around in slow motion, pretending to punch an invisible enemy as his little brother giggled in childish bliss.

About how John never looked at him the same. The disgust in his eyes, harsh words on his lips.

About how he vowed to never disappoint his father like that again, and their joint hatred for that part of him. Sometimes it felt like the only thing they could agree on.

About how somewhere, somehow, he had decided Cas was different. That he somehow didn’t count, and that losing him hurt so much, was such an egregious pain, he wanted as much of Cas as he was allowed to have. And how that was something insurmountable stronger than the twisted, sick feeling John had placed in his gut.

He remembered something Cas had told him once: “Hatred isn’t a natural trait, Dean, it’s a learned one. A baby isn’t born with the ability to hate, it’s passed on from one broken soul to another. Love, love however. That’s something different altogether.”

Cas’s hand on his shoulder pulled Dean out of his thoughts. “Hey.” He said softly.

“Hey Cas.”

“I love you.” He got in the passenger's seat, taking his coffee from Dean’s still frozen hand.

“I love you too.” He whispered absentmindedly, staring straight ahead and seeing nothing but thoughts from the past. His mind fighting an internal battle, logic telling him that what he had with Cas wasn’t wrong, and even though everything from fate to God had tried to wedge itself between them, it was still the most right thing he had. And he knew that, but his dad’s drunken, booming voice echoed throughout his head, telling him that he was dirty. Telling him the Winchester men had no place for someone like him.

“You better stop that now, boy. Bad things happen to you when you’re weak.”

At the time he had taken that as a warning, rather than a threat. But now Dean wasn’t so sure.

It’s not even that his Dad was particularly religious. He wasn’t told that it was a sin, or that he was going to Hell. Though it’s not like that particular statement would have been wrong. He thought with a bitter laugh.

While the thoughts in his head were screaming mercilessly, the drive home was in a simple silence. The only noise being Cas’s occasional sip, and the sound of soft fabric rubbing against skin as Cas moved his hand in small, comforting motions against Dean's back.

When they got to the bunker, Cas, who was genuinely impressed that Dean managed to drive them home without crashing into a tree, pulled Dean out of the car and gently shook him out of his self-imposed stupor.

“Your coffee's cold.” Cas said with a laugh.

Dean blinked a couple times, clearing the fog from his mind, before laughing along with him. “And who’s fault is that? You were the one who insisted on traveling across the state to get it.”

“Do you want some of mine?” Cas asked. “There's a little bit left, and I held it next to the heater. It should still be lukewarm.”

“No thanks, Cas. I can go make some in the kitchen.”

“But what if I want you to try it?” Dean glared at him. “Don't make me do Sam’s ‘puppy dog eyes’ again.”

“Okay, okay. You win.” He put his hands up, mimicking a surrender. “I'll try some of your stupid, Christmas cookie, candy-cane flavoured coffee thing or whatever.” They started walking towards the entrance to the bunker.

“Peppermint mocha?”

“That's the one.”

Cas laughed at him.

“Oh just, give it here.” Dean said. He took a long sip from the disposable cup. He could taste a vague hint of whipped cream mixed in with the coffee, its light fluffy texture sticking to the last swallow of smooth liquid in the bottom of the cup. The chocolate and espresso rested on his tongue, and the peppermint was strong and refreshing. He took another sip.

“Does that face mean you like it?”

Dean looked at him guiltily. “No.” He opened the bunker’s door and started walking down the metal stairs.

“Yes you do.”

“No, I don't.”

“You took a second sip.”

Dean reached the bottom of the stairs first, and walked over to the War Room table to set both coffee cups and his keys down.

“So? I was trying to make sure I properly understood the flavour. Since when is that a crime?”

“You wanted to properly understand a flavour you didn't like?” Cas walked up to Dean and pulled the nearest chair out to sit down.

“What are you two arguing about this time?” Eileen asked from the library.

Cas clenched both of his hands into fists, putting the right one on top of the other. He made small, circular, stirring motions with his right hand. “Coffee.” He signed swiftly, movements fluid.

“Ah. That makes sense.” She spoke the words.

“What makes sense?” Sam asked, walking in from one of the hallways, making sure Eileen could see his lips before speaking.

“They're arguing over coffee again.”

Sam glanced at both of them, before his eyes reached the two cups on the War Room table.

“Wait a second… Dean?” He looked at his brother, before turning to face his best friend. “Cas?”

“Yes, Sam?” Cas answered.

“Did you two go to Starbucks?”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Dean grumbled.

“Yes, we did!” Cas sounded way too excited to be referring to coffee. “I got a peppermint mocha, and Dean tried some and liked it.”

“I did not.”

“I don't care what coffee you like, Dean. What I do care about is that you went all the way to Starbucks, and didn't bother to ask if we wanted to come.”

“Not cool Dean.” Eileen walked in, shaking her head and hiding a smile.

“I might have thought about buying you two drinks, but there was no way I was ordering yours with a straight face.” He looked at Sam. “And it's an hour away, they wouldn't have been hot or cold or whatever they're supposed to be by the time we got here.”

“Well then we'll just have to go back, all four of us.” Eileen put simply.

“It's an hour away.”

“We know.” Sam added.

“Let me say that again, in case you weren’t listening. It's an hour away. For coffee. That isn't even that good.”

“I beg to differ, Dean.” Cas said.

“Yeah I'm definitely with Cas on this one.” Eileen agreed while Sam nodded along.

“No. There's no way I'm getting back in Baby to drive all the way to Starbucks again.”

“Fine. We’ll go get our own.”

“With what car?” Dean said, very sure of himself.

Sam snatched Baby’s keys off the war room table, which in hindsight was probably something Dean should have expected.

“Let's hope Sam doesn't have too many shots of espresso.” Eileen said, faking concern. “I would hate for your baby to pay the price.”

“Fine. I'll drive you.” Dean grumbled while Eileen double fist-pumped her win.

Cas looked very pleased with the thought of getting to try more coffee.

---

They left shortly after, the drive over painful for everyone except Dean, who listened to the same four songs on repeat the entire hour.

(It’s their own fault, really.)

---

“Can we please listen to something other than Bob Seger on the trip home?” Sam complained as he slammed shut the door to Baby’s backseat.

“You’re just mad you didn’t get shotgun.” Dean said, closing his own door. “Besides, driver picks the music, everyone else shuts their cakehole.” Sam mouthed the words along with Dean, having heard the speech a million times before.

Eileen and Cas got out, neither one of them had any desire to input on their squabble, and were instead engaged in their own, quieter discussion.

Both brothers continued to argue until they walked into the Starbucks.

“Ah. There's the scent of overpriced coffee I missed.” Eileen joked as she took her first breath inside the building, using her hand to waft the smell towards her.

“What are you getting?” Cas asked Sam.

“I want my usual, and Eileen, what are you having?”

“Hot chocolate with espresso shots please. This place doesn't sell liquor.” She shook her head sadly and Sam laughed. “Good thing I brought my own.” She winked at them, opening her jacket just enough so they could see the inside pocket and showing off her flask.

“Oh, now that would be a Starbucks I would go to.” Dean said.

“You two wait in line.” Sam pointed to Cas and Dean. “We’ll save a table.”

Dean looked like he wanted to protest, but they walked away before he had the chance. Cas leaned over towards him. “Don't worry. I'll order Sam’s.” He very conspicuously winked.

Dean smiled at his attempts of regular human interaction, before over-the-top winking himself.

“Can you order for us? I need to talk to Sam about something.”

“Sure thing…” Cas had to think before finishing his sentence. “...buckaroo.”

Dean outwardly cringed. “Keep trying, you'll get there eventually.” He patted Cas on the back, which was slightly moving in a chuckle.

It was good to see Cas filled with so much simple joy. Face creased from laughter rather than stress, he seemed so much lighter. Happier. It was only a small sliver of what he deserved, but it was something. Maybe he could live with driving an hour to get what he assumed was half-decent coffee.

“What would you like?” Cas asked him, eyes still filled with a sparkle that only comes from gaining something you thought you lost.

“Uh.” He thought about it for a moment, almost considering branching out into the unexplored terrain that was the dark green menu with small, white text, before shuddering at the thought.

“I think I'll take that expensive black coffee I didn't get earlier.”

Dean was not going to turn into one of those people, if he had any say about it.

Cas walked into the line, leaving Dean to scan the room, furiously waving Sam over when his eyes found their booth.

“Sam.” He sounded like he was trying to whisper, but his volume raised far higher than that. The patron closest to Dean gave him a look before turning back to their work.

“Sam, come here, it's urgent.” His brother turned to look at him, rolling his eyes before getting out of the booth.

“What do you want?” He said once he reached Dean.

“Sam. Help. What do I do?”

“About what?”

“About what kind of coffee Cas is having.”

“Oh god, Dean let it go. He's not going to only ever drink black coffee. Contrary to popular belief, former angels do actually have souls.”

Dean ignored the implications that he didn't have a soul, too distracted by Cas. “But look.” He motioned his head towards where Cas was standing, next in line to order. “He’s eyeing the weird fruity drinks.”

“Dean. It's Cas. The man’s favorite food is PB&J. What did you expect him to have, taste?”

“Alright that's rich coming from mister Pinkity Drinkity or whatever the fuck.”

“You walked into a Starbucks and ordered black coffee, I don't think I'm the wrong one here.”

“Wait, wait. Shut up. Quiet.” He hit Sam on the shoulder in a childish attempt at getting him to stop talking so he could listen.

“Ow. That hurt.” Sam muttered, before turning to watch Cas, which Dean was already doing.

“I would like to try a…” Cas methodically scanned the menu again. “A ‘Passion Tango Iced Tea,’ please.” The barista took no mind to the excessive air quotes.

“It's not even coffee.” Dean said to Sam, clearly distraught. He turned to look back at Cas.

“And your name sir?”

“Lizzo.”

Dean threw his arms up into the air. “I can't believe this is the man I love.” His voice cracked like he was holding in tears of anguish from listening to Cas order.

Sam just rolled his eyes at the theatrics. Right, and he’s the dramatic one.

“Aw. You're in love.” Sam held his hands up, forming a heart and mocking his brother.

“Oh shut up. What are you, seven?”

“Is Cas your gay thing?”

“You shut your mo-”

“What are we gossiping about?” Eileen whispered, cutting Dean off and causing them both to jump.

“We're not gossiping.” Sam said indignantly.

“Sam started it.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“This is where I call you two ‘asshats’, right?”

“It's ‘assbutt.’” Cas said, walking up to them and catching the tail end of their conversation. “And that's my line.”

Cas handed them each their drinks, before excitedly trying his own. He put the plastic cup up to his mouth, almost missing the straw. When he swallowed the cranberry-colored liquid, his face relaxed in pleasure.

“I know this one isn't coffee, but it's really good.”

“We didn't get coffee either.” Eileen said. “So don't worry, Dean's the odd man out here.”

Dean glared at her before trying his own coffee, and well, it was coffee. The point of buying expensive caffeine still went straight over his head.

The four of them went over to their thankfully-still-available booth and sat down. Dean and Cas sat on one side, both instinctively choosing the side that faced the door, with Sam and Eileen sliding into the seats directly across from them. They sat there, talking about nothing in particular, and certainly nothing of importance, before falling into the natural art of storytelling.

Aside from killing monsters, that’s what hunters did best. Sitting around and sharing stories. As tiring and dangerous as their lives were, some hunts were worth sharing exaggerated and hyperbolic versions of, especially over drinks.

Sam’s favourite story to tell changed every time, and one would almost be inclined to believe that most of it wasn't real, but the wildest parts also caused the most merriment. (Dean pretended he hadn’t witnessed the whole thing, sparing Sam by not telling the other two how it actually went down.)

Eileen shared of her time in Ireland. “Foreign country, foreign monsters.” She said with a wink, telling of creatures neither Sam nor Dean had even read about.

Dean’s favourite story to tell, aside from the fact that he killed Hitler, was the time he got to solve a mystery with everyone’s favorite talking dog. And yeah, all three of the people that sat at the table had heard both many times before, but that didn't matter, it was still enrapturing to hear them again.

Cas had millenniums to choose from, but always found the most interesting hunts to be the ones with the Winchesters. He also had many hilarious stories about his adventures with Crowley, but he was less fond of those.

“I remember once, Dean went on a hunt with Dad.” Sam started. “Nasty vampire, it got a hit or two on Dean. I think you guys went with another hunter. Young. About your age, actually. Uh…”

He snapped his fingers, trying to recall the name. “Lee. That's it.” Dean looked up from the coffee right as Sam said it. “Do you remember him?”

Something flashed in Dean’s eyes, but his brother didn't seem to notice.

Cas, who was used to admiring every minute detail of Dean's expression and posture, didn't miss the ever so slight, yet sharp, inhale. Or the way he swallowed before speaking, trying to clear the small lump from his throat.

Dean noticed too, internally rolling his eyes at his own reaction.

“Yeah it's been a while, but I remember him.” Dean was blatantly ignoring Cas’s burning stare from beside him, and the fact that he had stabbed Lee through the chest just last year.

Cas made sure no one was watching before gently placing a hand on Dean’s thigh. Knowing it would comfort him from both intuition and experience. Dean stiffened under the touch, but after realizing no one could see where Cas’s hand was, he visibly relaxed.

“What happened to him?” Eileen asked innocently.

“Oh uh, a hunt I think. Most of us go that way, I assume he was no different.” Technically Dean dealt the final blow, but it was the entrancing call of the monster, greed, and the life Lee and Dean had both secretly wanted, that caused his former-friend’s downfall in the end.

“Yeah.” Sam said solemnly, suddenly lost in his own thoughts, most of which were riddled with grief.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, letting the weight of their many losses wash over them like a tidal wave.

One made of espresso and milk rather than the rough waters of the sea.

---

The ride back was more manageable, Dean allowing them one song choice each, complete with a warning to pick wisely.

(They all very cheekily chose the songs they knew would bother Dean the most.)

---

Full on coffee, cookies Dean bought for them at Starbucks, and brimming with contentment, (as well as the fact that they spent half the day in the car), Cas suggested to Dean that they “hit the hay” as they stepped back into the bunker.

They laid there in silence, breathing in scents of comfort, coffee, and each other, until Cas eventually drifted off to sleep.

Dean, however, continued to lay there. Thinking.

He remembered the first solo case John sent him on.

Something curled inside his gut.

They had been two nuns, their fate a product of hate crime. Put to death for simply being themselves.

Dean didn't blame them for coming back as ghosts.

He remembered the words - ones he would soon learn were slurs - that John would spit out like acid.

Or offhandedly toss like they didn't bear enough weight to shatter the window of a person's self-image.

It had taken him almost forty years to realize that very same window inside of him was in sharp, jagged pieces. Cutting anyone and everyone who came near.

It had taken Cas dying to start picking them up again.

He turned to look at the man next to him, relaxed and blissfully sleeping. His chest moved up and down rhythmically, and Dean slowed his breath to match until he fell into a surprisingly peaceful slumber.

---

When Dean woke up, the other side of his bed was cold.

He didn't panic, knowing full well that Cas probably ran to the bathroom, or was pouring another mountain of sugar in his coffee.

Losing Cas again to the Empty had ripped him apart, but months of spending every night with his partner left him with less nightmares and waking in cold sweats then he had since before Hell.

Dean also learned that his own presence was enough to fight off the demons of solid, black goo that plagued Cas’s head at night.

He was finally starting to understand why life seemed to lose all meaning when Cas was gone, and from there he could slowly start to rebuild both of them.

Dean heard soft padding noises as socked feet walked down the hall, and there was a knock on the bedroom door. "S'your room too, Cas. You don't have to knock." He laughed, words slightly slurred from just waking up

Cas walked in, wielding two mugs of coffee and a proud look shining in his eyes. “I made us coffee.” He said triumphantly, handing one of the mugs to Dean.

“I put chocolate and peppermint in your coffee.”

Dean fake-gasped. “You monster. Ruining the integrity of my drink like that.”

“I'm a human, you ass.” Cas responded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Besides, I know you liked mine yesterday.”

“I did not.” He said, discontentedly crossing his arms. “I only drink coffee that's as black as my soul. Darker than the night sky. Hotter than the bunker’s computer when it overheats. As manly as-”

“Oh, just drink your damn coffee.”

“Fine.” He groused. “But I'm not enjoying it.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at him, before setting his mug on the bedside table and sitting down behind Dean. The bed creaked underneath him as he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist. “Is this why you and Sam never use umbrellas?” He joked.

Dean laughed.

Cas rested his head on the crook of Dean’s neck and whispered. “You know you don't have to pretend.”

“Pretend what?” Dean asked softly.

“You know.”

“That I don’t like flavoured coffee?” He said with a snort.

“Sort of.” Cas hugged him tighter. “No one’s going to think any less of you Dean. You’re allowed to like the things you like.”

“I know.” He resigned.

“John isn't here anymore.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” The words barely came out as a whisper, hot tears betraying Dean’s eyes as they silently leaked out and ran down his cheeks.

He tried to wipe the tears away, hearing his Dad’s voice in his head and knowing he was being stupid.

Dean couldn't help but think of himself as a small, living-room window, from an old, dilapidated house. Stained yellow with age. Cracking from wear.

He let the drumming of his Dad’s words in his head be drowned out by Cas’s voice.

He couldn't unwrap the fuzz from around him, so he didn't know what Cas was saying, ears seemingly filled with cotton. It was just the knowledge alone that he was there. That he was holding him and whispering comforting words into his ear. That even as a human he could heal Dean at his lowest points, and still see him as the brightest, strongest, soul.

You don't really know what a picture is going to be until it's done.

Maybe that window is a beautiful stained-glass portrait.

“Uh.” Dean cleared his throat. “What-what do you have?” He indicated Cas’s coffee by angling his head towards where it sat on the nightstand.

“I made iced coffee.”

Dean just looked at him, astounded, eyes widening. “You mean it’s not hot?”

“Yes, that's where the ‘iced’ in ‘iced coffee’ comes from.” He said very seriously.

They both sat in silence for the next hour, peacefully drinking their coffee and enjoying the presence of one another.

---

When they got out of bed and ventured into the rest of the bunker, they found Sam and Eileen in the library.

They were sitting in adjacent chairs, with Eileen laying her head on Sam’s shoulder and reaching for her water bottle on the table. They were reading a book together, but Eileen shook Sam indicating she had seen them walk in.

“Goodmorning.” She greeted cheerfully.

“Mornin’.” Dean pulled up a chair across from them, and watched as Cas did the same.

“What are you two reading?” Cas asked.

“The Men of Letters’s Bestiary.” Sam said.

Dean snorted. “Ah. Doing a little light reading are we?”

“We're thinking about filling in some of the pages.” Eileen added.

“Yeah, for all of the stuff they have here, it's surprisingly empty.” Sam continued flipping through some of the pages, most of which were blank.

“Heh. I should put you in that thing, Cas.”

Cas let out a laugh. “Right. Because I’m a good example of an angel.” The sarcasm was masking something else in his voice.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’ve always been my favourite angel.” Dean only realised how sappy he sounded after it came out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I’ve heard the rest of them are dicks.” Eileen added.

Cas smiled at that, seemingly back to normal.

“Right, well you three can do that, I'm off to the Dean Cave.”

“Or…” Sam started.

“We could go back to Starbucks.” Cas finished, nodding his head enthusiastically.

“Yeah... that's not where I was going with that, but I like where your head’s at, Cas. We should definitely go back.”

“Eileen?” He asked.

“Hell yeah.”

“Dean?”

Dean pressed his mouth into a thin line and glared at him. “Yes, sure, fine. But we're not making this a daily thing.”

“That's fair.” Cas agreed. “It's probably not very healthy.”

He went to grab his wallet and keys before Sam could start his speech on the nutritional value of green things, and Eileen snatched her water bottle off the library table as they all got up to leave.

---

Dean gave up on letting them choose the music after snickering and requesting “Friday” by Rebecca Black for the third time in a row.

(It wasn't even Friday?)

---

Dean stepped out and closed Baby’s door in the parking lot of Starbucks an hour later, kicking the loose pieces of gravel on the asphalt for the third time in two days.

“We might as well just live here.” He said, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I wouldn't make that offer if I were you, Cas looks like he’d be totally on board.” Sam laughed.

Cas went and stood beside Dean as they started walking towards the building, smiling.

“What?” Dean asked, question genuine and free of all malice.

“Nothing.” Cas answered, smile not faltering.

His eyes revealed nothing but pure devotion for the man he was staring at. A silent promise, one without pressure, that he would be standing there, and Dean could take the leap anytime he wanted.

Dean was slowly inching towards the end of the diving board.

---

“I think I'll just drink my water.”

“Oh that's exciting.” Sam joked. “If I got you a lemon to go with it, would you be able to handle that?”

“Don't talk to me about my drink, when yours is a vivid green puke colour.”

“Hey, at least it actually has a colour. And a flavour at that.”

Dean couldn’t believe those words were coming from the same man who drinks exactly a hundred and one ounces of water a day. (Which, according to Sam, is the recommended amount for males, as stated by the Institute of Medicine.)

(Dean didn’t care.)

“Fine then.” She turned to look at Dean. “Get me the strongest thing on the menu.”

Dean laughed before turning to Cas. “Let's just go get in line before we suffer at the hands of the Leahy like Sam.”

Sam and Eileen went to look for a place where they could all sit again, playfully bickering the entire way.

While he was standing in line with Cas, Dean looked over at his brother, and found him and Eileen sitting at a small table in the corner.

Cas was still helping him learn ASL, so he caught parts of their conversation.

“If Jack is in every drop of rain, do you think he's in your water?” Sam signed, trying to contain his laughter.

Eileen pushed her water away with a look of disgust. “You’re lucky I love you.” She answered back.

“I know I am.”

He watched her silently laugh before turning back to look at Cas.

They really did have it good, didn't they?

“What are you ordering, Dean?”

Dean stood there silently, contemplating. He internally weighed his pros and cons, mind leaving the menu entirely. While there was still a lot of shit he had to work through, (shit he had been actively not working out his entire life), there wasn’t much of a decision to be made.

He would always choose Cas.

“You know what?” He reached out and grasped Cas’s hand firmly. “I was thinking about being less boring. What ingredients do you suggest I try?”

Cas smiled warmly, reaching the crinkled corners of his eyes. “They have a cinnamon flavoured one. That’ll be almost like apple pie.”

“Will it really?” Dean’s tone was dismissive, but there was a smile on his face.

“Yes, Sam told me.“

“Not that I trust Sam’s judgment, but okay, I think I’ll take one of those.”

“I'm going to have a real pumpkin spice latte this time.” Cas seemed very pleased with the aspect of buying something they could make it home, but Dean wasn't going to fault him for it.

The patron in front of them finished ordering, clearing the way for Cas and Dean. The barista from the first time they went caught sight of them and made a face. “Wait a minute. I think I know you two.”

“Yes, we came here yesterday.” Cas helped. “Well, we actually visited twice, but you weren't working the second time.”

“Right... John and John, how could I forget?”

“This time we're ordering for four though.”

“I would like a…” Dean squinted at the menu, looking for the cinnamon flavoured coffee. “‘Cinnamon Dolce Latte.’ And my devilishly handsome friend here will take the pumpkin spice version.”

“And what are the other two drinks and names?”

Dean whispered something in Cas’s ear. “I'll drink the coffee, but I won't budge on this one.”

“That's okay Dean, you’ll get there eventually.” He whispered back.

The barista looked unimpressed with them. Again.

Dean cleared his throat. “Ahem, sorry. The tall one with the stupidly long hair,” he pointed towards Sam, “is getting…” he trailed off before looking to Cas for help.

“I don't know, man. It was something sickly looking. Cold? Green? Possibly tea?”

“And Iced Green Tea Latte?” The barista suggested.

“That's the one. His name is Jimmy.”

“And the lovely lady sitting next to him would like the strongest drink you have. Her name is Robert.”

“Her name is Robert…?” He slowly pointed towards Eileen, sounding unsure of himself.

Or them.

“Yup.” Cas said.

Eileen gave a little wave from across the room.

He gritted his teeth in a very clearly fake smile. “Coming right up.”

They paid for their coffee and picked it up, taking the travel cups across the room and towards Sam and Eileen.

Cas took a sip from his pumpkin spice latte, gleefully smiling. “As much as I like trying different drinks, I think I might start just getting this one. It's my favourite.”

Sam leaned over to Dean, neither one taking their eyes off of Cas. “Should we tell him the drink is seasonal?” He glanced at Sam, before staring back at his partner, whose face was beaming like a literal ray of sunshine.

Dean’s face softened. “Nah. Let’s not ruin his moment.” He took a sip of his cinnamon coffee and damn, it was delicious.

Nothing at all like apple pie, but still delicious.

Cas walked over to him, making eye contact in a silent question. Dean nodded with a small smile, and Cas took his hand.

“I love you.” Cas whispered.

“I love you too.” He whispered back.

They didn’t whisper to hide, and it wasn't because he was ashamed. It was because that exchange was just for them.

Dean leaned in and softly kissed Cas.

Now that was to tell everyone in the shop that his devilishly handsome friend was spoken for.

Slowly, the sun would come out and shine through the stained-glass window, shadow portraying the picture of an angel.

And alright, fine, Dean could admit that he enjoyed the peppermint mocha.

He thought about it for a moment, before giving a light chuckle, realising something.

“What?” Cas asked, turning to look at him with a soft smile resting on his face.

“Nothing.” Dean whispered, squeezing Cas’s hand in his. He took a sip from his coffee, relishing in the warm and cozy flavour enrapturing his tongue.

He was only thinking that maybe, just maybe,

Cas had changed him too.

---

Bonus Epilogue:

Dean held the glass door open for the other three, and they all walked out onto the asphalt, laughing, and making their way towards Baby.

The street lamp overhead flickered, and all four of them froze.

“Did anyone happen to get the salted caramel macchiato?” Dean whispered.

---

-This fic on Ao3 (Kudos and comments would be greatly appreciated.)

-Writing Tag

-Ao3

-Request fics/drabbles/ficlets. (Please)

[sarahlevys]

One Person's Guide to Coping with AD(H)D in the Workplace

Howdy! This is a non-exhaustive overview of a few things that I have learned to put into practice to cope with my ADD in the workplace.

For some background context, I have ADD but do not currently manage the condition via medications due to some side effects that negatively affect my quality of life. Currently, I hold an executive leadership position at the company I work for, and manage individuals with ADHD. I use ADD to describe myself because that is the name that was given to me when I was diagnosed.

I don't intend to speak as a sole authority on this subject; I've just been asked to provide ideas and thoughts on this by friends. The coping mechanisms in this post are by no means not intended to be the only coping mechanisms that exist.

Your Mind is Different

I've learned to accept the fact that I will easily get side-tracked, distracted, and have days in which I simply cannot focus on things during the time in which I either want to focus, or have been told (by supervisors, bosses, my own internal guilt mechanism, etc.) that I should be focusing on.

All of this is okay! My mind rarely, if ever, works on command when it's time to do something that I'm not intrinsically motivated to do, like work. And sometimes, even when I *want* to do the thing – like a hobby or something I genuinely enjoy – I can't focus. All of that is still okay.

Be gentle to yourself. A coping mechanism that works one day may not work another day – or even later, that same day. It's okay to multi-task, to lose focus, or to get hyper-focused on something you should or shouldn't.

Allow yourself the grace to not always use a planner, a habit tracker, or similar.

Some Things to Try

You'll note a common theme in all of these: these don't always work for me all the time. Trial and error is totally okay!

Focus:

If you find yourself itching to do something else at the same time as something you're working on – e.g., check your text messages – go ahead and do it. Sometimes, if I don't let myself give in to those impulses, they build up in my mind until my focus on what I'm 'supposed' to be focusing on gets shot to all hell.

That said, on those moments where I settle into 'the zone' or 'flow,' I am sometimes I'm able to go ahead and shut off whatever might pull my focus. Roll with it and do whatever's right for you in the moment!

In meetings, depending on the stakes of it, I might play a bit of sudoku or doodle; doing something that's low pressure, even for a few seconds, can often help me feel like I've 'multi-tasked' or 'slipped into something else' long enough to refocus on the meeting at hand.

Taking notes during a meeting, especially by hand, also can feel like multi-tasking, even if I'm not.

Standing up during a task or call often helps me focus. (Sometimes it doesn't!) Either way, even if it's just for a little bit, I still am usually happier for being able to physically fidget or stretch more than I would in a seated position.

Listening to music while I work helps me feel like I'm multi-tasking, even if I'm not – but I know this doesn't work for everyone! And like everything else, some days it works for me, some days it doesn't. I personally prefer music with lyrics, but I know others who don't.

Give Yourself Breaks:

Sometimes, when I'm moving really quickly – e.g., if I'm going through a lot of tasks, going from meeting to meeting, or trying to think and do a lot – I feel myself getting short of breath/tense. Breaks are really helpful to me!

Focusing is hard work! Try to give yourself at least one 10-15 minute break in both halves of your work shift.

Allow yourself the space to also zone out for a few minutes here and there, too.

Sometimes, even just walking around my home is enough to refresh my brain.

You might have success with the Pomodoro Technique: https://pomofocus.io/ This involves trying to work for 25 minutes, then taking a 5 minute break regardless. Repeat this for as long as desired – typically it'll be done 4 times (for 2 hours), followed by a 15 minute break.

Thinking Through Things Before Sending Them Loose:

My biggest struggle! I'm a big blurter, both out loud and via text/typing.

My first plan of attack is to, once I've typed through something, to pause before hitting send. I'm a fast typist with +100WPM, and I have to literally (sometimes out loud!) tell myself to not hit send right away so I can slow down and read through what I'm saying before I do hit that send button.

When communication is handled verbally, I physically try to weigh each word as I speak it, and focus on hearing each word before going onto the next.

I have learned to accept the fact that I will often trail off and lose my train of thought, and I will admit that out loud to whoever I'm speaking to – even if they're a client or someone important – so I can buy myself a little more time to sort things out. Being open about this takes pressure off of me.

Resist the Urge to Speed Through Work:

My other big struggle!

If you feel comfortable, speak to your manager about fail-safes and review processes that currently exist in your work environment. At my job, we've created internal processes that always involve someone else reviewing your work (no matter who is executing the task) so we have built-in failsafes.

If you do take a task quickly, for whatever reason – e.g., if it's something comfortable to you, or you're running out of time – speak to whoever you're doing the work for in order to make sure your work is reviewed, or to buy yourself more time to review your work before you hand it in.

Talk to Your Supervisor:

Ideally, you have the kind of relationship with your supervisor where you can explain that: 1) multi-tasking doesn't always mean that you aren't paying attention, whether you're actually multi-tasking or chasing something that'll give you the feeling of multi-tasking; 2) single-focus is hard. Even if they don't necessarily change anything about your operations processes, having that awareness goes a long way.

You may even consider talking to your other team members about this; I sometimes can come off as impatient or rushing when i don't need to be, and I've also talked about how I often go off-topic or off-track and people know that about me.

If you get a lot of same-day tasks that can pull focus from what you've planned to do today, you may want to talk to your supervisor about requesting a minimum of one day's notice for your work or to request communication when a same-day task is being sent your way.

Create Control For Yourself:

A big part of my instance of ADD is needing to control everything so that I know exactly what's happening at all times and nothing's going to distract me more than i already innately am. I've learned to (somewhat) let go of the control thing, but of course being able to do that means being aware of when it's popping up.

With this in mind, I try to be mindful of when I'm feeling tense or out of control – a bit trigger for me is when a bunch of unexpected meetings or communications crop up, for example – and to pay attention to how I'm feeling and what I can do to solve it, or to roll with the punches.

I've found that taking the time to think about the next day and set up my planner for the following day in the afternoon before signing off, or after work has closed, and then reviewing that again in the morning of, really helps. Of course, I don't always remember to do it. But when I do, it really help!

Organize Your Work & Find Low-Pressure Accountability:

The way that I organize my tasks for each day differs based off of the day or my mood. Sometimes I organize them by priority, sometimes by the amount of time that I think it'll take me to do something, sometimes by client, etc. Be flexible!

At my work, we do a daily check-in with the whole team where we say what we plan to do that day, and I've found that group accountability to be really helpful. That might be something your manager might be interested in providing to you (e.g., a quick message in the morning to let them know what you plan to do).

That said, accountability can sometimes feel like too much pressure if you don't always do everything on your list. Ideally, you can talk with your supervisor or even a trusted co-worker to set up an environment in which it's okay for things to roll over or for priorities to shift depending on how a day is going.

Find a Flexible Way to Organize Yourself:

Paper journals/planners and I don't mix; when I forget to use it, the empty pages give me guilt, and the permanence of pen also makes me anxious since things in my mind are so fluid.

With this in mind, I prefer digital means since I can rearrange and move things around. I personally use an iPad Pro and a Pencil to take notes in digital note-keeping software, but this can be cost-prohibitive. If you struggle with paper methods of organization, consider using note-taking software or even Google Docs to create a plain-text bullet journal so you can move things around.

That's all I've got! Please let me know if you found this guide helpful, and what other coping mechanism or ideas I should add to this (with credit to you!)

[n3s0]

hi i’m going to discuss the doomsday war streams and overall the conclusion of what i’d consider season 3 of the dream smp because hyperfixation go brrrrr 

(for clarity sake: season 1 is from when l’manberg defects from the dream smp to when wilbur decides to host an election. season 2 is from swag2020 vs pog2020 to the manberg vs pogtopia war on nov 16th. season 3 is from the start of tubbo’s presidency to the jan 6th doomsday war.) 

tldr: i definitely think the cc’s can look on what happened this season and improve greatly. that’s not to say this wasn’t a good season, there are a lot of things they’ve improved since season 1, but there are also things they can improve on in the future. this season was lacking a connecting thread or goal and it made it feel disjointed and left character’s in limbo. a way to fix that could be either scripting the story more strictly, fixing communication problems and/or making the plot into more self contained but slightly overlapping stories.

i think my biggest problem with this season was the fact that it felt so disjointed. one of the best things about the first season is the consistent plot line: l’manberg is trying to win independence. you had eret’s betrayal, dream’s tyranny, wilbur and tommy’s whole dynamic, and an underlying subplot with the disc war, but it all ultimately connected to l’manberg’s fight for independence. it’s what makes the first season so good and that kind of consistent plot is missing in this season. 

even the second season had the main plot of taking back manberg. there was wilbur’s insanity, but that tied back to the elections. there was tension between tubbo and tommy, but it tied back to the elections. even the badlands tied back to bad, ant, skeppy, and sam deciding they’re done with manberg AND pogtopia and deciding to stoke the fire. it all tied back and character’s had weeks to slowly develop with the setting. 

this season you had techno retiring, ghostbur reconciling with fundy, tubbo’s presidency, whatever was going on with schlatt and quackity?, george is king?, el rapid mexican l’manberg that whole thing, tommy’s exile, el rapids fighting dream smp/eret’s kingship?, the butcher army, techno UNretiring and teaming with tommy, tommy using techno to get his discs back, techno using tommy to destroy l’manberg, the prison, the bloodvines, and probably more im forgetting. there was a LOT going on, even techno and wilbur have ooc acknowledged this. and in my opinion it was just too much. character’s weren’t given enough time to develop naturally and the pacing had to go fast enough to fit all the plot into it, leaving little time for the character’s relationships to develop with the plot. 

most notably this is a problem with character’s like niki, fundy, ranboo (though not too bad with his character) and eret. eret had worked hard on a redemption arc and then had to go back to being king because george didn’t want to be involved (then changed his mind which...okay) which really fucked up all of the development he spent a LOT of time on during the second season. niki had to jump from siding with tubbo and tommy against wilbur’s insanity to suddenly tubbo’s president and her character just...can’t know that wilbur is dead for some reason? and now she needs content so she has to scrap together an anti-hero plot for herself. fundy’s works a little better i feel, with his lowkey insanity arc he’s having as of now, but the problem with him is he didn’t get enough lowkey plot moments to show his character’s devolution from neglected to vengeful. ranboo was thrown head first into the plot and while he’s doing an AMAZING job of keeping himself afloat, he just hasn’t had enough time to make his character’s mental decline seem believable, at least to me. not enought has happened to his character for it to work out, due to pacing. all of these character’s are AMAZING concepts but the fact that they feel so inconsistent can be related back to the fact that there really wasn’t any time given to let character’s slowly develop and change, and instead they had to cram all of their character development into the first 30 mins of a plot important stream.

and i will offer a counterargument here of the fact that season 3 is when wilbur’s writing stopped and also was when it really started catching a large audiences’ interest. so naturally more people wanted to be involved and due to the nature of the way this story is told, where each character is an actual CC who needs content and can’t just be a background support character, there HAS to be a lot going on for everyone to get their slice. and i think that’s the ultimate downfall of using this medium to tell a story. you NEED those background characters, the characters that don’t have to be 3 dimensional, the characters that don’t need to be there for everything and get their lines in. so i can’t fault them for having a clunky story when it has to be that way to be fair. 

ultimately i still really enjoy the story, and i hope this doesn’t sound too nitpicky. it’s downfall, of everyone having to be an important character, is also what makes it so good! don’t like the “main character”? go watch someone else, who’s the main character of their own POV of the story. every single character is incredibly complex and has their own unique set of motivations, goals, and traits. it works really well with the running theme of history, and how not only does it repeat itself through miscommunication and ignorance but also how the opinion on events changes from who’s telling the story. the fact that you can tell every CC genuinely cares about their character also really does show in the acting and writing and just everything about the server and story. the flaws of the story are very easy to look over because of just how much time and care all of them put into this server and it really helps the story. an okay story written by passionate people with always be better than an amazing one written by apathetic storywriters; and the smp’s story is definitely more than just okay, at least to me. 

i didn’t want to write this just to complain and then offer no solution, so i do have a few ideas on how i’d like to see this fixed or at least improved. they actually already somewhat do this, but i feel like they could start breaking up the plot more. similarly to how there was the bloodvines plot going on at the same time as tommy’s exile plot, i feel like they could take a chunk of say 5-10 members and they each have their semi-contained plot. especially with l’manberg now destroyed, the thing that way tying a lot of the members together, it would be easier to do this. there can be connecting threads through the stories, like how tubbo and fundy would see the bloodvines or bad would visit tommy in exile, but ultimately not every character has to be involved in everyone else’s story. 

say you have tubbo, tommy, quackity, fundy, ghostbur, and dream for one plot of trying to get the discs back and making dream revive ghostbur. at the same time you can have techno, phil, ranboo, dream, and sam dealing with the prison and techno or someone being put in the prison with dream manipulating ranboo through his memories. bad, ant, sam, puffy, and skeppy can continue with the egg. eret, fundy, niki, and ghostbur work through the trauma they’ve gained from everything with l’manberg and their interpersonal relationships. similarly to how karl is doing the tales of the SMP right now, these storylines are self contained but characters can overlap and therefore so can relationships. 

my other solution would honestly be to just work on the seemingly lack of communication. make sure everyone is getting the content they need (with people having to understand that not everyone is going to get the animatic worthy lines every stream, and not everyone gets to play a huge part in each event.) however this entails having a much more concrete script, which highkey removes the charm of the smp. it also means that inevitably someone is going to not be getting good content, or content at all, and that’s not fun or good for anyone. ultimately i’d like to see an improvement on the communication for the plot (niki feeling excluded, george and eret not being told about important events, communicating when people are trying to have genuine canon important speeches and not BMing them (cough cough tubbo at niki about her taxes cough cough techno during tubbo and tommys reunion)) and that doesn’t necessarily have to mean a fully fleshed out script. 

in the end, what everyone on this server has managed to do with this storyline is something that’s genuinely impacted me! it’s opened my eyes to new ways stories can be told and this fandom is the first big one i’ve been in since probably fucking voltron or homestuck in the mid-2010s. i love what the CCs have managed to do, and while i think this was a healthy amount of criticism for the story i in no way want to demean just how much passion and effort the CCs put into this server. none of these people are professional story writers or actors so the amount of talent we’ve seen is astonishing. this is simply me expressing what i think the problems are, because every story has problems, especially one that’s being made with such a unique medium like improv roleplay streaming. if you have anything you wanna add please feel free to add to this post or reply! i’d love to see :) thank you for reading if you made it this far lmao

[radramblog]

Radiohead Retrospective Part 4: We’ve got heads on sticks

Your name is Thom Yorke. You’ve just released what is considered one of the best albums of the 90s, if not of all time, and you’ve achieved a level of fame that at least one band member considers akin to the Beatles. Through the release of OK Computer, you’ve proven that even if people are pretty much over Oasis at this point, British rock bands still rule the airwaves. You’re also stressed the fuck out over just about all of this, and having a very hard time accustoming to the life of a celebrity- let alone the usual mental health issues.

What will you do?

Apparently, the answer was to write the fourth album to be as far away from the previous few as possible, seeking influence from IDM groups like Aphex Twin, jazz stuff, and just some bizarro instruments and experimentation and leaving a lot of the “rock” stuff behind. The primary genre listed for Kid A is usually Electronica or Ambient, with various off-kilter rock subgenres lagging behind, crying “you’re still gonna do guitars and stuff, right?”

Well…not as much anymore. But this era of Radiohead, this career-suicidal swerve, still proved monumentally successful, and showed that the band still had it, and that sometimes artistic risks do pay dividends.

A side note: I usually link music videos for the tracks I discuss as part of each post, as you’ll have seen in previous parts of this series. Kid A, however, doesn’t have any singles, and it sure doesn’t have any music videos. So…maybe just listen yourself. I’m probably in over my head here anyway.

I think the first 5 notes of Everything In Its Right Place are some of the most iconic in all of music.

Some personal background- Kid A was the first Radiohead I ever listened to. A particular cool and good mate of mine was a fan in high school, but I’d never listened to them at all, and I trusted his opinion musically, so I went to buy one of their CDs the next time I was at the shop. And for whatever reason, the cheapest one was Kid A at 10 bucks, and I didn’t want to gamble more than that, so that’s the one I got.

So the opening notes of Everything In Its Right Place were the first Radiohead I ever heard. And considering how much I obsessed over this band, in high school and beyond, it’s no surprise that this song is one of my favourites.

Not only did this song introduce me to Radiohead, it was effectively a gateway track for electronic music in general. This was the early 10s, and the majority of what I knew as electronic stuff was the EDM that was drowning the airwaves at the time. I hated that stuff out of principle, because being a hipster like that was definitely a personality. I don’t think I would ever have gotten into Vaporwave, into IDM, or into any electronic music the way I eventually would were it not for Everything In Its Right Place.

Now that I’ve spent 250 words talking about myself and not the actual song, we should probably stop that. Everything In Its Right Place is defined by this steady build of layering vocals and effects onto the relatively calm synth line, distorted vocals and word salad lyrics and manipulated noises growing and getting more chaotic before it just stops- the vocals fade out, the effects drop, and you’re left with the synth line- except it’s been slowly changing itself the whole time, and you don’t realise because you’ve been distracted by everything else at the same time.

It’s worth noting (and I don’t know if this was the case with OK Computer, because I don’t have an original copy of that one) that this was an album without liner notes, without the lyrics in the cover booklet. But at least in this case, the lyrics don’t matter as much as the v i b e. At least, that’s what I think.

On the topic of unintelligible lyrics, Kid A has a title track! I believe literally two Radiohead albums do this, the other being The Bends (though Hail to the Thief and In Rainbows do appear as lyrics). The song itself is an ambient, quiet piece that feels something like a twisted nursery tune- incredibly affected vocals, a syncopated (?) percussion, and a synth (I think???) that…I don’t know how to describe it, but it feels nursery-rhyme-y. If you’ve heard this song a few times, or you know what to listen for, you can piece together the lyrics somewhat- and they are, frankly, kind of unsettling. What is standing in the shadows at the end of your bed, can it please leave? And imagery of the Pied Piper is always either extremely silly or extremely unnerving, with this clearly leaning towards the latter. There’s a lot going on here- especially for a track most probably wouldn’t listen to outside the context of the full album. I know I generally don’t- not the kind of thing I generally am in the mood for.

 We’re at 850+ words, and we’re only up to The National Anthem? Fuuuuck. Well, anyone who wasn’t on board the IDM train can at least appreciate this one more, it’s got an actual bassline. A killer one, at that, that drives the whole track. Well, you know, that and the B R A S S. Seriously, it sounds like they invited a marching band to this bad boy. The combination ends up sounding mostly like controlled chaos, a jazz band traffic jam wound together by that B A S S. But the bass can’t hold it forever, and eventually that shit breaks free and just, it just honks all over the place.

I’m frustratingly running out of things to say about this song I really like, as opposed to the other songs I really liked. Unfortunately, ya boi forgot to take his neurotypicalification pills today, and so I’m getting very distracted. Hopefully, that slightly unhinged nature suits the album somewhat.

The next song, How To Disappear Completely, is a Big Mood with a fun story attached. The main lyrics- I’m not here, this isn’t happening- were allegedly something none other than Michael Stipe from R.E.M. told Thom to help him deal with that massive stage fright that came with Getting Big. Fun trivia aside, this song is gorgeous, luscious with massive strings, an acoustic bend, aethereal vocals, and a background drone running through the thing that makes sure your hair is always a little on end through the thing. It’s a song whose lyrics are an attempt to escape anxiety, whose instrumentation serves more to reinforce it- a calm, melodic piece that builds into nervous swells and threatening strings. A song about fighting your fear, and losing.

Fuck me it’s a bit depressing isn’t it. It’s potentially the most emotionally revealing song the album has- a lot of the lyricism on other tracks is more metaphorical, or subtle, but the meaning in How To Disappear Completely is evident even just from the title. You get lost in the strings and they go from calming, to imposing, to downright menacing (and then back again) in the song’s final minute.

Treefingers, on the other hand, has a lot less to say, and by that I mean it’s an instrumental. A very atmospheric, ambient one, and thereby one I don’t have a lot to say about. I’m not sure I’m particularly good at commenting on regular music, but this kinda thing is a whole different animal. I have no idea how to interact with discussing this. I like it? I will say, that one note right at the end, that echoes for a bit, the one piece of clarity in this muddled, reverbed sphere, feels especially poignant, for reasons I cannot describe.

We go from ambient instrumental to arguable the most rock-song-like track on this album, Optimistic, certified banger that it is. Some might argue that it doesn’t fit here, but like, did they even hear the lyrics? The bridge? It more that deserves its place on one of the best albums around. The little way the guitar scales up during the chorus is excellent, the proggy drums and riffs are glorious, it’s just a very good rock song.

Also this is the first song with the lyric “dinosaurs roaming the earth”, which, aside from being a bit of a non-sequitur, would return two albums later. And I’m really looking forward to that one.

In Limbo is a song I kind of always forget exists until I hear it again. It’s antimemetic, the way the song goes slipping from my mind until I hear those opening notes again. I’m going to be honest, it’s probably because it’s also the most mid song on the album. Far from bad, but it isn’t doing anything that How to Disappear Completely or Optimistic aren’t doing better. If I had to remove any track from this album, it might be this one?

Watch me get fucking lynched from the fandom for that one, if I ever post this to r/Radiohead or whatever. Which I might, though as much as I’d like more people to read my things I’m also extremely anxious about the potential response. Like the album I’m discussing today, I’m terrified of fame.

Incidentally, In Limbo is also the shortest track on the album (Treefingers beats it by 11 seconds), though this isn’t initially obvious online at least, because people keep messing with Motion Picture Soundtrack. But we’re not there yet, hang on.

We go from the forgettable (to me) In Limbo to the utterly mesmerizing Idioteque. Anxious but danceable, confusing but emotive, messy but tightly controlled. I love this fucking song to death. The reason I got the particular Radiohead poster that I did was because it has lyrics from this on it.

I’ve heard that lyrics for this album were largely pulled from a hat, and nowhere is that more clear than here (or maybe Everything In Its Right Place). Despite this, there’s a pretty clear theme in them, a continuation of some of the themes of this and the last albums. A condemnation of wealth and cowardice in the face of ecological disaster. In the form of an apocalypse disco.

What a lot of people don’t know about this track is that it actually samples an extremely old electronic music piece- one written in 1973, on a particularly old computer. The track, mild und leise, is a very interesting track considering its age- I’m reminded of Selected Ambient Works by Aphex Twin- not so much musically, but about how that reason was as influential as it was because it was the first time songs had sounded like that, because it was the first time songs could sound like that- I suppose it’s somewhat similar in that way, if older. These pieces and their composers inexorably linked by the allure of technology, and how that could be used to define new eras in music history- in Radiohead’s case, it certainly defined the next few albums in their lifespan.

Jesus mild und leise is long, it’s still going as I write this. I need to get back to Kid A, man!

Idioteque leads directly into Morning Bell, admittedly another less memorable song. Largely percussion lead, plenty of falsetto, and with a very unsubtle theme if you listen to the lyrics. I recall seeing someone saying that “cut the kids in half” was a really surprising and spooky line, and, yeah, sure, it sort of is, but it’s only particularly bad if you don’t pay attention for the rest of it. It’s about divorce, dude, it’s not subtle.

Or apparently not, according to one interview, but Thom said the interpretation isn’t invalid, so haha still winning baybeeeee.

I think the only part of this I really can’t do without is the outro, because the last minute and a half of this song is really cool. The mumbled lyrics go really well with the rising percussion and eerie effects that end the track.

Our final song is Motion Picture Soundtrack, or, Exit Music (for Walt Disney’s Depression Nap). This and Street Spirit I think are what really cement Radiohead’s reputation for brutal closers, both of them being tragic but hauntingly beautiful in different ways. In this case, it’s the instrumentation- glittering harps attempting the echo 50s Disney. There’s actually a version of this song from the OK Computer era with extremely different instrumentation, piano rather than organ, and no harps (and a third verse that is utterly brutal). Regardless, this is the song they chose to close the apocalypse that Kid A is on- the final lyric being “I will see you in the next life”, as the glittering echoes into the night. Poignant and tragic, but a little hopeful- the next life hopefully won’t have the struggles and pain of this one.

And then, of course, there’s the hidden track. Nicknamed Genchildren by some (that’s just the username of the dude who uploaded it to Napster back in the day), officially known as Untitled, and the true closer to the album. With Spotify slapping it right at the end of Motion Picture Soundtrack, it’s not clear the true nature of this song- it’s actually hidden on the original album, after several minutes of silence, just long enough that you’ve forgotten you left the player running (or you’re still crying from Motion Picture Soundtrack). I don’t think there’s a real word for what this sounds like other than heavenly, and incredibly brief piece I’ve heard compared to the pearly gates. After all, if we end on “I will see you in the next life”, then what can this be but that?

 Thus closes Kid A, a gorgeous and powerful album, yet an insane swerve for any rock band to pull, not just Radiohead. A bold strategy, and yet it paid off for them- Kid A would not only be massively influential, it was also massively successful both critically and commercially- but not to the standard of OK Computer before it. But they obviously weren’t trying to do OK Computer part 2, just as that album was deliberately not The Bends part 2.

Kid A would pretty much get a Part 2, though, less than a year later. And it’s that album we’ll be discussing next week, obviously. Until then.

[randomcanbian]

(re: Fandom Meme) B, D, N, P, R, Y ??? (also if you feel like answering T again about anything else pls do (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) (also let the record know that your first answer was *chef kiss* wonderful and should've been canon imo (╯▽╰ ))

B - A pairing you initially didn’t consider but someone changed your mind

Felix x fem!Byleth from FE3H... I thought it’d be the same as f!Dimileth (the fandom version of it at least) where the man is like ~~ohhhh I’m a monster I’m so broken ahhh I push people away and go on berserker rages because of my tragic backstory~~ and the woman has to be gentle and kind, the epitome of femininity (despite being a mercenary who had been trained to kill since she was 11...), basically put himself above her on so many levels and the onus is on her to ~~fix him~~~...but apparently not??? The fancontent is so gorgeous and has them as equals, both lonely people who’ve had their childhood taken away from them, both who’ve closed themselves off from the world (or in Byleth’s case, has never known how to open herself up to it), both of them seeing themselves in each other, both taking it upon themselves to meet each other half-way and from thereon help each other process their past and walk forward into the future...damn man, the kinship and the partnership in this ship... (also it really helps that 1. Felix is awed at Byleth’s swordsmanship and tactical mind and pushes himself to surpass it, forming a foundation for a healthy rivalry 2. the fandom does not forget that Byleth is her own person and not just Felix’s partner *cough* Dimileth *cough* Edeleth *cough*)

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t

Hmmmm well sometimes I wished (in general) that I could actively ship mlm couples, just because there’s so much content for them :)) (don’t get me started on how fandom gravitates towards male characters and mlm ships...lmao someone way back then gave me the excuse that it’s because the actual creators put more effort into their male characters and that they end up becoming more complex and interesting and like *looks at my fandoms where there are just as many girls as guys, just as interesting (if not more so) backstories and dynamics and interactions for the female characters, looks at the sheer number of mlm shippers in those fandoms who squeeze the most out of every insignificant moment for their male characters while ignoring the depth and complexity of the female characters* sure)

N - Name three things you wish you saw more of in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice)

Glee

1. Fanfic with more “out-there” ideas :)) (Don’t get me wrong, there are fanfics that fall far from Glee’s high school/young adult/modern-coming-of-age setting, and even for fics that do fall under those spheres there are some that deal with complex, intricate themes in such an incredible manner or even if not that are just plain enjoyable but like,,, there aren’t enough for my ever-expanding hunger HAHA)(my last couple of fandoms were dark fantasy/sci-fi/whatever The Good Place is so I guess I just got spoiled lmao)

2. More analytical thinking LMAO I guess it just frustrates me that there are so many people in the fandom who take things at face value??? Given how biased the writers are and how shit they are at continuity it really doesn’t make sense to me that so many people take things so literally haha

3. More fanart unu I totally understand though that the fandom isn’t as big as it once was but a girl can dream, you know?

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas)

Something that I had wanted to write for Brittana (since 2012!) but never had the brain cells to: a sailor!AU where the characters live on a flat world and they’re trying to sail towards its edge (encountering so many mythical beasts and legends on the way) (may or may not be inspired by C.S. Lewis’ The Voyage of the Dawn Treader haha)

Special mention to this AU since I've used for at least three fandoms by now haha: Pygmalion&Galatea!AU wherein one character creates a statue and her love for it brings it to life :)))

R - A pairing you ship that you don’t think anyone else ships

LMAO I went through Bae Doona’s body of work (what was available of it at least) in 2015 and ended up shipping her character Park Hyun-nam with her best friend (Yoon Jang-mi) in 플란다스의 개 (Barking Dogs Never Bite)...I wrote a very small ficlet of them (I literally had to create the section for them in ao3...and lmao I just checked and I am still the only fic in there HAHA)(please don’t look for my account btw all my fics are so self-indulgent and atrocious huhu) and I also made this gifset of them :))) As far as I know I am literally the only one in the entire world who ships them HAHA

Similar story for her character Ri Bun-hui in 코리아 (As One)...although honestly if it turns out that a decent number of people have seen this movie I’d be surprised that no one else shipped Bun-hui with Hyun Jung-hwa??? Because they??? Tennis table rivals from North Korea and South Korea who have to team up to win at the Olympics??? Jung-hwa trying to get Bun-hui and her team to loosen up??? Them becoming closer??? When the Olympics are over and the North Korea team have to go home, and Jung-hwa chases after the bus and tries to reach for Bun-hui’s hand, realizing that they might never see each other again??? I??? (Just...I had to make this gifset of their hands: when they first meet each other, when one takes the other’s for comfort, the last time their fingers will ever touch...)(Also let’s ignore that it’s a re-telling of real life event akjsndaskj haha)

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending, about anything at all

(Thank you roseate ;u; I’m glad that you agree and are interested with my headcanons ;o;)

Santana’s a trivia nerd and is the type to deep-dive down Wikipedia pages which is why she makes all those obscure references :))) (Also a more specific version of this headcanon, not something that I’d die defending but like,,, something that I won’t let anyone take away from me lmao is that she’s a TV/movie buff, dabbles in comics (specifically, DC and follows character like Wonder Woman, the Birds of Prey, Poison Ivy/Harleyquinn, Batwoman, and Renee Montoya), and started getting a little into theater/musicals after spending time with Kurt and Rachel :))) She also has a record player back in Lima and has a bunch of vinyl records back home (back in high school she’d play a couple of slow songs and just slow dance with Britt in the privacy of their bedrooms uwu)(imagine this scene and this song playing in the background ;u;)

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)

BTS, because so many of my friends are KPOP fans

Genshin, also because so many of my friends are into it

魔道祖师 (The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation) because my close friend fangirls over them so much and we just exchange anecdotes with me and Glee/Fire Emblem and her and TGDC

Critical Role and My Brother, My Brother and Me podcast because my gf is a huge fan of them :))

Not quite there yet, but I am looking forward to having Dostoevsky’s extended universe as a secondhand fandom HAHA