#''Your Highness will you dance with me (super humble form of the word 'me')?'' (the word 'me' is the one translated wrong)

[uncleskyrule]

i'm trying to double check my translation of my fanfic and Papago translator has decided to write its own plot 😂😂

This is a Pre-Calamity BotW enemies-to-lovers ballroom dancing oneshot!! The LoZ postman is nowhere in this fic!!! Where did he come from!!! Where would he even go!!! What possessed you to write this, Papago!!

[wonderlustlucas]

jack pot ; part 3 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 6.4k ⇢ genre fluff & angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way) ⇢ warnings (18+) drug use, a suggestive make out & the mention of a boner twice maybe ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n AAAAAAAA omg im so excited to post this, this by far is my fav part of jack pot & i cant wait to hear what u all think!!! sorry its a bit shorter than the other parts, & technically this is the *last* part, but there will be an epilogue where you will see how everything comes to be!!!! have fun reading!!! <3

⇠ part 2

five.

“Oh, fuck, he’s good,” Yeji gasps, shoving her phone into Maddie’s hands before faceplanting into the table.

“Are you H-T-T-P because I’m colon-slash-slash without you,” Maddie reads with a chuckle, thumbs hesitating over the keyboard. “Quick, YN, look up some pick-up lines.”

Closing the tab on the article you should be reading but has been long forgotten, you promptly do as you are told and open the first link from your search, Minho and Jisung leaning in to help. “There,” Jisung stops you, pointing to one, “’Are you a parking ticket? Because you have fine written all over you.’”

The table can’t help but burst into laughter at such a sentence. It’s stupid, but ever since Yeji and Kim Sunwoo began texting, their conversations have been full of tacky puns and emoji-filled compliments.

“Damn,” Maddie whistles, setting the phone back into Yeji’s limp hand, “he’s already typing back.”

“Gross,” Ryujin teases, busy typing away on her laptop. How she manages to multitask so well is a skill you certainly lack. “Why don’t you just like, I don’t know, ask him out?” Jisung asks and when you glance up, he’s looking at you. “Because that’s the guy’s job,” Maddie quickly saves the day, winking to you when you send her a grateful smile.

“Bullshit,” Jeongin scoffs. Everyone, even Ryujin, stops to look at him.

Did he just curse?

“I mean, like,” he stammers, cheeks turning rosy at all the attention, “it’s 2020. Guys have insecurities, too.”

“I agree,” Minho hums, looking to Maddie with hearts in his eyes, “that kind of confidence is enough to make any boy fall in love.”

“Yeah, but—”

Lia rebuts, but your attention quickly falls elsewhere when a text message first appears on your laptop, then your phone.

hwang hyunjin🦔🕺🏻💞🧻 [now] Where r u rn?

Unable to fight your smile, you quickly type back.

[3:39 PM] YN: outside hollin st café [3:39 PM] YN: why? :)

“Have you seen their new house, YN?” Minho asks, prompting you to click your phone off and set it back on the table. “Whose house?”

“Changbin’s parents.”

“Oh,” shaking your head, you distantly curse Chan for keeping your friend busy today. Unlike Jisung, Changbin likes to write lyrics and do whatever other music stuff during the day at a normal time instead of the middle of the fucking night while stoned and trying to finish his computer science assignments at the same time. “No, he forgot to send me pictures.”

“Dude,” Jisung sighs dreamily, “it’s huge. So nice. I think the front door alone could cover tuition.”

“Is it really that nice?” Maddie asks in awe.

“He started to show me pics the other day but couldn’t finish but the kitchen… unnecessary,” Ryujin quips, pausing her work to check her phone. “Yeah, it’s insane. The whole place is unnecessary but the kitchen is like, a house in itself,” Jeongin hums, head shaking in disbelief.

“Damn, now I really want to see it,” you sigh, making a mental note to hunt Changbin down so he can show you. “It’s like Hyunjin and his rings,” Minho snickers, “he has so many. Whenever we’re out, if he sees a ring, boom. It’s his.”

Well, he’s not wrong but… You bite your tongue no matter how badly you wish to defend Hyunjin and his affinity for rings and jewelry in general. The boy has taste, what can you say? You certainly are not complaining about Hyunjin’s long fingers and the way he chooses to decorate them.

“I never thought I’d hear Changbin’s parent’s kitchen be analogous to Hyunjin’s jewelry collection, yet here we are,” Maddie chuckles, leaning over Yeji to peek at her conversation with Sunwoo.

“Wow, speak of the devil,” Jisung pipes up of course as soon as you have reopened the tab to your assignment. Changbin or Hyunjin, you don’t know, head whipping up to find out and a peculiar mix of relief and panic settling over you once you spot the latter. “Uh oh, YN’s gonna go into cardiac arrest.”

As subtly as you can, you elbow Jisung in the stomach and smile at Hyunjin as he nears. “Hey,” keeping his eyes on you, Hyunjin approaches your table and stops behind Maddie opposite from you, “I’m sorry, I should have asked if you were busy.” His cheeks, already flushed, burn pinker once he looks away to smile weakly at everyone else.

“I’m not busy!” You squeak, scrambling to close your laptop and shove it in your bag. “Are you sure? I can come back later?” He offers, tilting his head and this is when you realize he is holding a bubble tea in each hand. And from the looks of it, one seems to be your usual order. “No, she’s not,” Jeongin answers for you, recognizing your stupefied expression.

“I was just – yeah. No,” rushing to stand and swing your legs out around the bench, you nearly fall flat on your face, “I wasn’t doing anything, actually.” Steadying yourself with a hand on Minho’s shoulder, you heave a labored breath before carefully walking to meet Hyunjin.

“Okay,” he beams, either oblivious to how flustered you are or simply choosing to ignore it. Turning to wave to your friends, he hands you one of the cups and you realize it is, in fact, your favorite boba. Oh boy. “See ya later,” you wave to them as well, nose wrinkling when both Jisung and Maddie wink in return.

Following after Hyunjin, you finally allow yourself to take notice of his attire and can’t help but feel confused. He looks good. And not in the good attractive way—he always looks good. But good as in formal. It’s four o’clock on a Tuesday in October and he’s out here looking as if he just got out of a business meeting. White button-down tucked into fitted black slacks, dress shoes, black tie, and he even has a black suit jacket draped over his arm. His hair is styled, too; ever since he dyed it back to black, he’s been growing it out long enough for his bangs to cover his eyes. Now, however, it’s parted down the middle and seems as if he’s ever so slightly curled it away from his face.

Suddenly, you feel ridiculous walking beside him in mom jeans and a baggy sweatshirt from high school.

“Thanks for the boba,” you mumble around your straw, brain still preoccupied trying to get over how utterly handsome he is. “Why do you look so fancy?”

The side of his mouth twitches up at your words, but his eyes stay glued to the sidewalk as you continue to your unknown destination. “I had an audition,” Hyunjin admits, voice devoid of emotion as if it’s not important at all. “An audition?” You echo. “Why do you sound so not super mega excited? How did it go? What was it for?”

“Well—”

“Wait!” You interrupt, stopping your walk once you realize he had an audition and you didn’t know. “You had an audition? What – why didn’t you tell me?”

Hyunjin frowns, avoiding your gaze and dragging his bottom teeth over his top lip. “I didn’t tell anyone,” he finally says before reaching for your hand and tugging you away from the walkway and into your campus’ main courtyard. “Why? Is it some sort of secret or something, Hyunjin?” You scoff, sounding way more annoyed than you intended. But you are annoyed; why didn’t he want to tell anyone?

“No,” he sighs, finding an empty area in the grass and lowering himself to sit, “I just… didn’t want anyone to know. Didn’t want to make it a big deal.”

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, visibly softening for him and settling down next to him, crisscrossing your legs, “it is a big deal. I don’t know what it’s for, but if it’s important enough for you to audition, then it’s important to us, too. You don’t need to be humble twenty-four-seven, you know. I’m sure you could have used our support.”

“I didn’t get it, though,” Hyunjin whispers, “they just – I didn’t get in. I wasn’t good enough.” Sensing the sadness in his voice, you find a lump forming in your throat when you notice the way his bottom lip trembles. “Hey,” panicking, you set your boba down and sit up on your knees to wrap your arms around him, cradling his head into your chest once tears start falling, “no. Don’t ever say you’re not good enough, Hyunjin.”

“But if I did better, practiced more, than I would—"

“Stop,” you hush, combing your fingers through his hair and brushing strands away from his eyes, “I’ve never met someone who works as hard as you do. You can’t beat yourself up over this. Everything happens for a reason. You don’t know what could have happened if you got in. You could have hurt yourself eventually, or maybe met someone who’s a real asshole.”

“Yeah,” is all he says, quiet and muffled when he turns to press his forehead into your sternum, body still trembling as he lets out all his tears. You stay like that for a while, holding him against you and soothing a hand up and down his back until his sniffling falls quiet. “Listen,” you finally sigh, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him back. Your heart sinks once you take in the wet trails down his cheeks and the puffiness of his eyes. “Forget about it. Was it something for dance?”

When he nods subtly, you cup his face in your hands and swipe his cheeks with your thumbs. “You are an amazing dancer, Hyunjin. You can’t let this get to your head. And I don’t want you working your ass off more than you do already. Practice makes perfect, sure, but you need to rest. What about the idea Changbin came up with?”

“The YouTube thing?”

“Yes! Filming dance tutorials or just posting your routines is a really good idea,” you remind him, wiping your hands on your jeans once he falls back onto the grass with a gentle thud, hair flaying around him like a halo. Your limbs twitch with the urge to lie beside him, maybe throw an arm around him and rest your cheek on his chest, fingers tracing the soft features of his face, stroking through his hair and reminding him just how innately perfect he is, inside and out. You, of course, resist such a temptation, flopping down beside him and staring up at the clouds with a heavy heart.

“I could do that. Maybe,” Hyunjin huffs. Tilting your head to look at him, you find yourself knee-deep in that familiar longing feeling, pausing simply to appreciate how pretty he is in the evening sun, cheeks rosy from crying and hair begging to be touched. Shaking your head to rid such daydreams, you remind yourself how fragile his emotions are right now. Now is no time to get caught up on a fantasy. Reaching for your tea, you lean up on an elbow and redirect your gaze to the trees, the promise of winter having turned what was green burnt sienna and butterscotch, leaving trees barren and branches swaying gently in the crisp breeze that leaves you curling into yourself. “You should,” you hum, distant, mind clawing to come up with the words you want to say.

“Come here,” Hyunjin says now, voice stronger than before and when his hand wraps gently around your wrist, you can’t find it in yourself to resist. Allowing him to pull you back down beside him, you curl into his side, resting your head a safe distance away from his own and onto the curve of his arm. “Thank you for being so good to me,” he expresses. You squeeze your eyes shut when the arm you lie on wraps around your shoulders and pulls you substantially closer. “I need to tell you something.”

A long stretch of silence falls upon you and for a moment, you are unsure the words even left your mouth. What are you thinking?

“Wait! I have something first,” Hyunjin sighs, missing the way your breath hitches. “Okay,” you whisper, fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt and focusing all your attention there.

“I just – I think… I owe you an apology,” he finally says, “I need to apologize for something that I did a while ago that I know probably hurt.” Your chest tightens. There’s a lot that has hurt you when it comes to Hyunjin, but none that he’s done purposely. None that are his fault. None that he should be apologizing for.

“I feel like we came to some mutual understanding to not mention what happened when we were freshmen, but it kills me to know that – that something happened, and we never talked about it,” Hyunjin starts, grip tightening on your shoulder and suddenly, you think you are dreaming. This cannot possibly be real. “I know it was awkward but, I also know me and Yiren dating was… ah. I don’t know.”

When he falls silent, you are unsure of what to say or do. You have no idea what the end goal of this conversation is. Hardly a minute ago, your heart and your brain decided it was time to tell him. Now, you’re not so sure you can do that until he finishes, and you are not about to give him your two cents if his reasoning for bringing it up is not the same as yours.

“I just want to apologize for not being brave enough to talk to you about it. I know I was confused, but I’m sure it was worse for you when they told you about her,” Hyunjin continues, sensing your rendered silence, “and it’s been so long since that happened, and now, you’re one of my closest friends.” Ouch.

“But I’ve been thinking,” when he picks up again, your eyes fly open in a panic. He’s been thinking. Hyunjinhas been thinking. You think you are going to pass out. “And I just feel like we… me and you, I mean—"

The standard iPhone alarm blares from beside you, promptly cutting him off and you think it is the biggest cockblock known to man. “Shit,” he hisses, leaning up to tug his phone from his pocket and in the process nudging you from your comfortable position. Sitting back up, nerves aflame and heart racing, your brows shoot up in confusion when all he does is stare at the number calling him. “What are you doing?”

“It’s the studio I was just at,” he scoffs in disbelief, barely glancing at you before looking back to his phone. You have never wanted to shrivel up and die as much as you want to right now. “Well? Aren’t you going to answer?”

Hyunjin makes a noise of acknowledgement before tapping the green icon and bringing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Sitting quietly beside him, you watch with a forced smile as his hummed responses and subtle nods morph into enthusiastic laughs and wide, beaming smiles. Hyunjin notices your confusion when you tilt your head, mouthing a ‘What?’ to him.

“They made a mistake,” he whispers, covering the speaker of his phone, “read off the wrong Hwang. I’m in.” When he grins excitedly at you, your response isn’t as cheerful as it could be. As it should be. “Yay!” You whisper, clapping gently but quickly turning to your boba when the other line begins speaking again. Looking away, you take a hefty sip, nearly choke on a tapioca ball, and build the walls around your heart up all over again in a matter of seconds.

“I’ve gotta go,” whispering, you manage one more pained smile before getting to your feet and wiping your butt of any possible grass stains, “good luck!” When he shines you one more breathtaking smile and waves excitedly, you hastily head in the other direction, wrapping your arms around yourself and swallowing past the lump that threatens to form the farther you walk.

It must be nice, you think, frantically wiping at your waterline. Must be nice to put yourself out there and have things work out the way you want them to. Must be nice being told you’re ‘in,’ you’re wanted, you’re desired.

It must be nice.

six.

Pick up food, you said. Ask Jisung, you said.

Your conscience is a big fat oompa loompa ass bitch. You would have never called Jisung to ask him if he wanted anything from Taco Bell if you knew he was with Changbin. And not just Changbin, you realized four minutes into your call; Seungmin and Hyunjin, too. Apparently he went over their place to record, or something, and didn’t care to let you know. Not that you’re his mom and he has too—but it would have been nice, and would have saved you from spending almost fifty dollars at Taco Bell.

“I tried calling Jisung but he didn’t answer,” you snap once Seungmin answers your call with a muffled hello. “Can one of you please come out and help me carry this in?” You glance at the five large sodas and two bags full of food in your passenger seat with a grimace. “Sure,” he agrees and you make a mental note for the umpteenth time just how much you love Seungmin, “I’ll be out in a sec.”

True to his word, you spot him making his way out of their apartment and across the small courtyard to meet you by your car not even a minute later, hauling each bag under his arms. “Thank you,” left only with the cupholder, you hurriedly lock your car and follow after him. “No problem. Thanks for being our Uber Eats,” then, pursing his lips, “how much was this?”

“Forty-seven something,” you grumble unhappily, knowing this was a big hit to your debit. “We’ll pay you back, don’t worry,” Seungmin smiles, leading you up the final flight of stairs and kicking open the ajar door.

Immediately, you’re hit with the smell.

“Dear, fucking hell,” making a face, you rub your nose to keep from sneezing, “it reeks in here. How have you guys not been kicked out yet?”

The stench of weed generally does not bother you anymore, but still—they could light a candle, or something. Seungmin shrugs, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter. “Luck, I guess.”

“IS THAT YN?” From another room, you hear Changbin shout, followed by an excited shriek from Jisung. “They’re high. Very high. You’ve been warned,” Seungmin whispers just as tweedle dee and tweedle dum themselves come flying around the corner. “YN!” Jisung grins, engulfing you in a dramatic hug. “Watch,” you hiss, regarding the blunt held between his fingers that comes dangerously close to your hair.

“Sorry,” he smiles, then, without warning, sticks the thing right between your lips. “I didn’t even offer.” Well, when life gives you lemons…

You hesitantly take the hit and blow the smoke away from him. You weren’t planning on getting high today, but here you are. “Thanks,” shaking your head as if that will clear it, you turn to Changbin and snugly wrap your arms around him. Every day you thank the heavens that he is a chill, calm high, unlike your maniac of a roommate.

“Thanks for the food,” fishing into his pockets and pulling out a crumpled ten-dollar bill, he slaps it into your palm. You only hum in reply, shoving it into your own pocket and praying you don’t lose it before you remember to put it in your wallet. “Where’s Hyunjin?” You ask, no longer caring about being slick.

“In his room,” Seungmin answers, rummaging through the bags to find what he ordered. Then, “HYUNJIN!” You jump, reaching for your soda and standing away from the other three until they have claimed whatever belongs to them. No sooner than Seungmin calls for him, you hear a door being cracked open and out comes Hyunjin.

He looks extremely disheveled. Like, just woke up from a two-month hibernation, disheveled. In the blink of an eye, however, he rakes a hand through long blonde hair and promptly sets a baseball cap backwards to keep the strands away and suddenly, he doesn’t look so disheveled anymore. You force yourself to look away, cursing the way your gut twists.

“Gimme my crunchwrap,” you say around your straw, snatching the blunt from Jisung’s fingers and moving around him to fetch your dinner. He doesn’t even protest.

He knows you need it more than he does.

“That’s a lot of food,” Hyunjin says once he has finally entered the kitchen, voice groggy and eyes puffy from sleep. Or from being high, you can’t tell. Pressing his chest to your back, he wraps one arm around you to keep you against him while the other reaches into a bag to take what’s his. Swallowing past the desert dryness of your throat, you manage a thick inhale from the blunt before tilting your head to look at him and mentally thanking the other three for taking it as their cue to head out.

“Not my fault you guys eat like animals,” you chuckle shakily, trying to ignore the firmness of his body against yours, veins prominent on the arm that holds you against him and the ripple of muscle along his abdomen noticeable even through his shirt and yours. Dear god, it is too early for this. Not even seven o’clock and you are already drooling in more places than one.

Hyunjin pouts as if it is not true. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, finally moving away to grab his drink and you can’t help your disappointment, quickly finishing the blunt before tapping it out into one of the many ashtrays. “Don’t worry about it,” you wave off, digging through their drawers for a paper plate.

“YN,” Hyunjin deadpans, regarding you with a raised brow once you come up and begin unwrapping your food. You refuse to look him in the eye. “What do I owe you?” He repeats, firmer this time and it sends a chill down your spine when it most certainly should not. Sighing, you retrieve the receipt from your pocket and count everything he got. “Thirteen.”

Humming in content, Hyunjin reaches for his wallet on the counter and pulls a ten and five out. “There,” he beams, tucking the bills into your pocket himself. Rolling your eyes, you pray he does not notice how you flush and hurry out of the kitchen to join Seungmin on the sofa.

“House Hunters?” You ask with a laugh, looking at the TV once you have settled next to him. “I told you HGTV is the best.”

Seungmin hums in agreement. “I thought it was stupid at first, but Hyunjin was watching Fixer Upper and I got addicted,” he says, nodding to the older boy doing a little dance in the kitchen as he eats one of his tacos. Your heart does somersaults at the sight. “They’re all so good,” you agree after taking a few bites of your own food, eyes trained on the television, “House Hunters is a classic, though.”

“I like the international one,” Hyunjin adds on his way over, crashing unceremoniously next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Seungmin wrinkle his nose when Hyunjin sets his free hand casually on your thigh. “Shh,” he grumbles, vaguely gesturing to the screen and chewing a mouthful of food, “I wanna hear what the house has.”

One episode turns to two, which turns to three, which turns to four, and suddenly you have been watching House Hunters with Seungmin and Hyunjin for almost three hours. It definitely is the weed, always making time perpetually slower, and it did not help when Jisung and Changbin reappeared sometime during your binge with one of Felix’s bongs. Not necessarily how you intended to spend your precious Friday night, but there is no sense in complaining when you are with your buddies and Hyunjin, of course.

Taco Bell long gone, you watch with blurry eyes when Hyunjin gets up from his slumped position against you to head into the kitchen and open the freezer. This, as well as the realization that House Hunters has ended and gone to some other, not-as-cool show, brings both you and Seungmin somewhat back to reality.

“It’s almost ten,” Seungmin announces, staring dazedly at the time on his phone. You hum in acknowledgment, certainly sober enough to reply but simply too lazy to. “I think I’m going to bed. Or play something. Don’t wreck the place,” he sighs, dragging a hand down his face before standing up. “G’night, Minnie,” you smile, watching with a furrowed brow as he continues down the hall and into his room. It isn’t until you hear his door click shut does the weight of being alone with Hyunjin settle on your chest.

It’s not like you haven’t spent time alone with Hyunjin before. In fact, that usually is the way it’s been in the past three years; whether the two of you decided to do your own thing or the rest of your friends eventually left or went to bed, you are used to this feeling. Used to ignoring the butterflies in your gut when he does something particularly cute and used to tampering down the mental images you conjure up knowing it’s just you and him.

But that doesn’t make things any easier. No matter how hard you try, you simply can’t help but feel this way around Hyunjin, especially when you’re alone. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles.

“Whatcha wanna watch?” Hyunjin asks around one last spoonful of ice cream before setting the pint back into the freezer. “Uhh…” You drone, blinking heavily at the TV and back to him as he makes his way back over. “I dunno, I’m sure you’ve been watching some drama. You can put that on.”

“You sure?” He asks with a raised brow, collapsing next to you and slumping dramatically halfway down the cushions. “Yes,” laughing, you find yourself reaching out to tuck messy strands of hair back behind his ear without hesitation, “also, why are you wearing a hat inside?”

Hyunjin pauses, straining to look up as if he will be able to see the back of his cap against his forehead. “I’m wearing a hat?”

“Yes, you idiot,” in comes the endless weed giggles and you find yourself unable to stop laughing, watching with teary eyes as he sits up and takes his hat off. “I don’t remember putting this on,” he chuckles airily, flipping the cap back and forth in his hands before tossing it onto the coffee table. “Should I cut it?”

“No!” You shout a little too quickly and a little too loudly. Shrinking against the arm of the couch, you ignore his amused smile and look to his long hair, freshly bleached strands falling down to his neck and shorter pieces brushing against his cheeks. Fuck, it should be illegal to look this good. “I like it long. It really suits you.”

“It’s annoying,” Hyunjin grins despite his complaint, lifting his legs onto the couch and flopping onto his side, head now resting on your lap. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

Now that he’s offered playing with his hair on a silver platter, you don’t hesitate combing your fingers through it, tugging out pieces stuck under his head and brushing it out completely. “You could pull the sides back,” you hum distantly, separating a section of hair near his temple to pull back, “or make a bun with what you can. You just have to play around with it.”

Humming in agreement, Hyunjin resituates himself after reaching for the remote and switching to Netflix. When you go back to simply raking your fingers from root to tip in irregular directions, you don’t miss the way his eyelids flutter at the motion and make sure to pay extra attention to his scalp. When this turned into a head massage, you’re not entirely sure.

The drama Hyunjin puts on is unbearable. You stopped paying attention a while ago, focusing more on him and how he seems to enjoy it, fingers busy braiding random sections of hair, taking them out, and then braiding them again. With two finally done the way you want them to, you are midway through the third when your fingers begin to cramp up.

“Why’d you stop?” Hyunjin asks seconds after you drop the braid and stretch your fingers out. “Fingers are cramping,” chuckling at the disappointed pout of his lips, you crack what knuckles you can before going back and undoing the unfinished braid. “Oh,” he mutters, cheek still pressed against your leg, “feels good.”

Humming in response, you ignore the way his words make your heart swell and begin gathering all his hair into a ponytail, pressing the braids to lay flat and finally tying it with a hair tie once you have combed up all that you can. Immediately, his bangs and hairs closer to the nape of his neck fall out, leaving the ponytail spikey and messy. At least the braids look good. You can’t help but giggle.

“What?” Hyunjin asks, pausing his show and leaning up. “What’d you do?”

“Go see for yourself,” pointing to the bathroom, you comb out a looped piece of hair before he stands to do just that. His ponytail bobs the entire walk there.

When he reaches the door and flips the light on, you watch from your position as he checks himself out, brushing away his bangs and flicking the pony. You frown when he accidentally yanks at a braid.

“Come here,” you say, sitting up, “you messed up the braid.”

“Honestly,” Hyunjin considers his reflection one last time before skipping his way over, “it doesn’t look half bad.” Expecting him to sit back next to you, your pulse quickens when he anchors a hand to the armrest and leans in front you, only inches away from your face. “No, definitely,” you say once you have gotten over the shock of him being so close so suddenly, “I like it in the ponytail. You’d really impress the girls if you braided your hair yourself.” Reaching up to tuck hair back into the braid and press it down flat once more, you don’t miss the way his brows draw together and lips twitch down. “What?”

Time ceases to exist as Hyunjin begins to come closer. In reality, you know it simply is a matter of seconds, but all of space and time seems to still once he leans forward. It feels as if an eternity goes by, allowing you to count each individual eyelash, memorize the details of his skin, take note of the smoothed lines on his plump lips. The way time slows is cruel; it allows panic to set in, the realization that he most certainly is looming over you with his eyes on your lips sending a spark of excitement and anxiety through your veins.

And then, just as this realization and this panic has set your nerves aflame, a gentle hand comes to cradle your jaw before Hyunjin’s lips press against yours.

It is so easy to surrender to the taste and touch of him. Instantly, an eruption of emotions and thoughts spiraling out of control fills you, yet your brain focuses only on Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. This is not the first time you have kissed him, nor the first time simply having him so close, but the feeling that radiates from your heart outward is unlike anything you have felt before. This is uncalled for. This is not like two years ago. You were not expecting this.

Hyunjin sighs into the kiss when you lean up to loop your arms around his neck. No sooner have you done this, he breaks away to sit beside you once more, hands reaching for your waist and guiding you to sit over his lap.

You could kiss him all day, you think, palms lying flat by his collarbones before fisting the material of his shirt when his tongue prods at the seam of your lips. Blood seemingly coming to a boil and nerves sparking dangerously, you find yourself quickly sobering up as the minutes tick by, completely and utterly addicted to him and this feeling, this feeling you have craved but never crossed the line for. And now, it’s yours to keep.

Forgetting the braids, you seize the opportunity to rake your fingers through his hair. Different, than how you did earlier. Desperate. Combing it away from his face once, twice, swallowing his groans when you tug at the roots, you realize with a whine that his hands have left your face in favor of dragging down your sides, circling back to squeeze at your breasts, rubbing at your thighs and finally sliding back to your ass, situating you more comfortably on his thighs.

When Hyunjin finally breaks the kiss to journey elsewhere, littering chaste kisses across your jaw, below your ear, down your neck, the weight of your actions finally hits you. It is overwhelming, the way you come spiraling back to reality, and you are not sure if the quiet moan that leaves you is due to the press of something else against your thigh or simply the realization that you are making out with Hyunjin.

You have to stop before you get hurt again.

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, shuddering when his soft lips brush against your jaw, “wait. We need to talk.”

He pauses at this, fingers digging into your sides and you feel his frown against your neck. “What’s there to talk about?” He murmurs, arms sliding around you and tugging you closer, prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him close and pretend like his boner isn’t digging into you.

It’s your turn to frown. “About us,” whispering, you lift one hand to stroke through his hair, “we need to talk about us.”

“I thought my feelings were very clear,” Hyunjin scoffs, all tenderness in his voice gone. Instinctively, you lean back, blinking at him in surprise. “Unless this is just another one of your games? Does this not mean anything to you, YN? I don’t think I could stomach you running off to Changbin or fucking Chan again.”

His words pierce your heart before you have even fully processed them, hurt flashing across your features and your body goes numb. “What?” Is all you can manage, scrambling to get away from him, chest heaving and eyes suddenly burning with the brine of tears. “What are you talking about, Hyunjin?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” He shouts. You flinch, not from the way he raises his voice, but from the genuine sadness in his eyes. “The past three years have been a constant battle with you. We’re best friends, for fucks sake, I figured out a long time ago that you have feelings for me. Feelings more than best friends. Yet every fucking time we started moving in the right direction, you turned your back on me.”

You can do nothing but stand there and let the tears fall. All the words and bottled emotions you wish to say are right there on the tip of your tongue, but you simply cannot bring yourself to voice them. Not when he’s right. Not when you have turned your back on him time and time again.

And then, he hisses more to himself than you, “Is this just sloppy seconds? You never once thought about my feelings in all of this?”

The anger brewing within you suddenly bursts from the dam and hisses through your body like deadly poison. “Sloppy seconds?” You snarl, fists clenching. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Your feelings? You just said you know how I feel about you, so why didn’t you ever do anything about it? How was I supposed to know you felt the same?”

“I thought it was pretty fucking obvious,” Hyunjin spits back, gaze narrowing, “didn’t think I had to spell out the fact that I like you, YN. You’re a smart girl.”

“Do not treat me like a child,” clenching your jaw, you have to look away for a moment, pacing one, two, three steps, hands raking through your hair and wiping away the stream of tears from your cheeks. You have never been filled with such rage. Having finally reached its boiling point, it now consumes you whole, sweeping off in waves and destroying all boundaries. “Confessing is not an easy thing, as you apparentlyknow, so don’t make me seem like the only idiot here. But maybe I was wrong about you if you think of me as just sloppy seconds.”

“I never said that!” Hyunjin barks, standing up to grasp your wrist when you turn away to grab your keys. “Don’t put words in my mouth! I would never, never think of you that way. I just don’t understand why you never spoke up after all this time. I’ve been dying, YN, you have no clue how badly I have been—”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” you snap, yanking your arm away from him, “I told you, Hyunjin. Telling someone you love them isn’t as easy as learning to ride a bike. You’re right, I have turned my back on you. But not intentionally. I’ve been scared, I’m a pussy, whatever.” Biting your top lip as if it will stop the tears that continue to fall freely, you avoid looking at him and glance back to find not only Seungmin, but Jisung and Changbin, too, peeking out from their doors with eyes blown wide with shock. Once you have noticed them, however, they panic and scramble to get out of sight.

Sighing shakily, you look back to Hyunjin and cannot ignore the way your heart sinks at the sight of him. Even upset, he is beautiful. You wonder how much you will see him after this.

“You don’t have to tell me you like me back to make me feel better, Hyunjin,” bouncing on your heels, you suddenly feel exhausted, body and soul heavy with the words you not only spoke, but heard, too. “We can figure this out another day, but for now, I need to go home. I’ll see you.”

Turning away once more, you do not make it very close to the front door before he stops you once more. “Wait, YN,” Hyunjin huffs, smiling softly when he reaches for your hand and you do not pull away. Running his tongue over his lip, he seems to hesitate for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Did you mean it when you said you love me?”

⇢ epilogue

[bubblyani]

Delicious as You

(Lucifer Morningstar x Reader)

A Lucifer Morningstar One Shot

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 2,304

Summary: Unexpectedly stopping by one night during your cooking adventures in the kitchen, Lucifer was determined to have you all to himself. But to his surprise, you were equally determined to get your cooking done. Who will win?

Author’s Note: Sorry for being absent without any Lucifer content. Had this idea while I was cooking one day. Stayed in my head for a while until I finally decided to vent my frustration through words. Enjoy Thirsty Luci-fans!

He watched her, like a hawk. But instead of having a predatory intention, he was full of fascination. He drank in the curves of her face, the warm cheeks that lifted as she smiled to herself, the wrinkles that formed in the corners of her eyes, giving her lips some competition with a touch of sunshine. He drank it all while she worked her magic in the kitchen. She was certainly lost in her own little world.

For she had not even noticed his presence for the last 5 minutes. Bored already, he decided to change that.

“Boo…”

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

“Boo!”

Looking up, a squeak came out of you as you clutched your chest, dropping the steel bowl on the counter top with loud clang. You realized it was Lucifer Morningstar standing before you, his hands resting inside his pockets while he watched you work in the kitchen island.

“Lucifer!” You cried out, “H-How did you get in here?” You babbled. “Well…I seem to recall you giving me a spare key to your humble abode…” he said nonchalantly, holding up the small key for display. Sighing with relief, you chuckled. Of course you did, you remember promising him one when he repeatedly demanded whilst claiming his rights.  

“Oh yeah…I forgot that” You said, pushing the steel bowl to the back, “Well…how can I help you today?” Your tone was a mocking equivalent to a sales assistant at a clothing store. Lucifer scoffed in kind.

“I prefer to call this a visit from a concerned lover, rather than a favor” he replied with much sass. You stifled a smile. Indeed, you were more than happy to have your super handsome, wonderfully talented and secretly benevolent boyfriend around more than anything. Truthfully, sometimes you would even wonder what made him fall for you in the first place.

“In the mood for a culinary adventure tonight?” Lucifer inquired, walking over to your side. You nodded.

“You bet, slow cooking night, baby!” You said joyfully, whilst peeling off the papery layers of some onions and cloves of garlic. Cooking was always exhilarating. But slow cooking with a touch of exotic flavors brought it to another level. No wonder you were in high spirits. No wonder a smile was on your face when the pieces of meat were seasoned with sea salt and ground black pepper, before Lucifer frightened the living daylights out of you.

“As much as I commend your love of the culinary arts…” Lucifer stressed, before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, “…the dance floors at Lux misses you immensely…And so does my warm bed…” he purred. As much as it brought warmth to your heart, you laughed it out to sound unaffected:

“Ha! Now that’s a panty dropper of a line” you joked, taking the knife in hand to chop the onions. You felt Lucifer scoff as his breath fell on your neck.

“Oh! Humor was clearly not the intended emotion I was trying rouse from you…” he said, flashing a naughty smile. Though you were busy crushing the garlic, your heart felt heavy for the man. Due to your recent busy schedule, you were deprived of the opportunity to visit and witness the flourishing business of his nightclub, LUX. You missed it as well, for every night there was a night to remember. And seeing the proud smile on Lucifer’s face every time you would wake up in his bed was something to hold on to.

“Awww…” You pouted, looking his way, “…just be a little patient, babe…” you said, turning back to chopping, “I’ll be right…” you paused to yawn , “…with you”. Whilst yawning, your body involuntarily stretched, pushing your buttocks back, only to accidentally have them brush against his clothed manhood. “Oh…my” You heard Lucifer mutter with fascination. Not caring much for it, you completely missed the naughty smile that returned to his face. A few seconds later, you suddenly felt the tightly wrapped apron loosen.

“Lucifer…?” You began questioningly,“What are you doing?” When you caught him in the act.

“Oh, you know. Just being patient…” He said innocently, his hands firmly gripping on your waist, “…might as well keep myself occupied…” he purred. Suspicious, you raised your eyebrows. “Clearly…” you said, “But w-oh!” Your suspicions were on point when you realized his right hand quickly dug inside your elastic shorts. Stomach retracting in response, it was the moment you knew where this was heading, what his intentions were, “Oh…you’re cheeky…”

“Not as cheeky as you are…” Lucifer teased smugly, slapping your buttocks in an instant. You chuckled loudly. Except those chuckles only lasted a few seconds when you gasped , queuing his beautiful fingers to graze over your panties. The few weeks of sexual depravity was handed to the world on a silver platter with your hushed breaths and twitching.

“Your resolute attitude is much appreciated, Mr. Morningstar…” your voice shook, as you reached for the mortar and pestle, “…but I have a dish to prepare…Oh my!…” unable to finish the sentence, you cried out. He defied you when his skilled fingers dipped inside your cotton panties, obtaining close contact with the bare skin between your thighs.

This, this was a battle of the wills. Being the stubborn man he was, Lucifer Morningstar would stop at nothing to get what he desired: You.

But you were not going to give up so easily. No matter he would try to make you cave in, you will thrive with your culinary mission tonight.

“In the mood for some spices, Lucifer?” Your inquiry was brimming with teases, taking a few steps to grab the steel spice container. Like a conjoined twin, he followed you wherever you moved towards. “Why not?” He breathed against your ear, “Nothing’s better than getting this tongue fired up…”

Adding spices in the correct measurements to a mortar would typically be considered an easy task. But nothing was of the typical nature at this moment. Not when your lover was occupied in distracting you using the nastiest method possible. Your body began to jerk when you felt three of his fingers familiarize themselves with the fleshy outer lips around your slit. His index finger and ring finger marked their territories there, while his middle finger gingerly stroked the sensitive tip that began to swell the longer he stroked it in tiny flicks. Having gained access to the part which induced the most pleasure, Lucifer held the liberty to do whatever he pleased with it. His finger stroked it in circles, he stroked it in straight lines, in triangles, and even in shapes that only existed in his subconscious. Regardless, every second he played with you, a small fire was lit up within, only to have that fire burst into gigantic flames. When he daringly inserted that finger into your thoroughly wet opening. All while his ears indulged in your cries of pleasure.


Taking the pestle, you began to grind up the onions, garlic with the spices in a fashion that was much more intense than it was previously done. And Lucifer noticed instantly. He felt victorious.

“My my…aren’t you the hard worker?” He commented in a seductive tone. Bitting your lower lip due to the fact his finger was literally inside of you, chuckling was the only option. “Of course, how else am I to let my frustrations out?” You said, looking over to him. “Well…” he said, licking his lips, “…you can always turn back to me-” “Not until this is done” you insisted, not willing to give up. Not ever. “Your call, darling” Lucifer said, as his finger quickly began to move in and out of you. Groaning, you finally stopped grinding the spices. “Ah fuck!” You cried out, “…fuck fuck fuck…” you repeated through gritted teeth,  “Lucifer, that’s not helping” you added with desperation. “Who said I intended to help?” He said darkly, his stubble grazing over your shoulder. He was not jesting for sure. When your hand reached out to grab the salted meat in the steel bowl, Lucifer’s left hand surprised you, by reaching up to cup your left breast over the t-shirt. But you would be fibbing if you did not admit your increased arousal at that point. Feeling the softness that resting on his palm, Lucifer was more than pleased.

“Oh!” He said amusingly, “Braless at home, are we?” He smiled mischievously,  “Lucifer, you lucky devil…” he said to himself. You rolled your eyes with a grin. “And again with the Devil persona…Ah!” Once again, you were forced to bite your lower lip when his fingers moved steadily in rhythm. Closing your eyes, you wished to savor this. Savor his loving to your leisure. But you had meat to marinade. Looking at the spice paste and the meat, you inhaled with determination. “Okay…” you began, smearing the spices over the pieces of meat, “This shouldn’t be too hard…Oh fuck!” Throwing your head back, you felt Lucifer tease you even more. For whilst you smeared and massaged the raw meat with the aromatic paste, his eager right hand massaged your breast, even having the audacity to pull the nipple through the shirt, making it thoroughly erect. “Ah! Shan’t leave the other feeling jealous…” Lucifer said, which made your eyebrows furrow. “What? Oh Lucifer….” You moaned, when you realized how his hand moved to your other breast to do the same. With two erect buds at the mercy of his touch, you felt the heat increase within you like a sauna.

“Oh boy…” you exhaled frustratingly, trying so hard not to scream in arousal with this torture. This sweet, delicious torture to be specific. Turning the stove on, you poured the oil on to the Dutch Oven. But it was certainly a challenge when your lovers hands were all over you. Lucifer’s mischievous chuckle tickled your ears.

“Come on, Y/N…” Lucifer whispered, “You know you want this bad…”. He thought he had you, dead to rights.

When the ginger and garlic paste infused with the cinnamon sticks in the hot oil, the aroma was invigorating. Throwing your head back over his shoulder, you tried to distinguish the pleasures you were gifted with. The aroma of your cooking, and the eager passionate touch of the man you longed to defile everywhere with.

“Not…until…it’s done…” you said with difficulty. As much as you said this to him, this was also for yourself. Only a little while longer till you had to hold out on this frustration. Truthfully, you could just stop all this, spin around and pounce at him wildly. But the task you started with genuine interest would end up burnt, ignored and wasted. When you added the seasoned meat into the pan, you heard the pan sizzle loudly whilst indulging on the rich aroma that traveled all the way through your nostrils.

“Well, I do like a challenge” Lucifer cried out, proceeding to make everything more diffusely by kissing your neck. His lips on your neck, his hands on your bosom and between your thighs, he literally was lighting you in flames. The delicious aroma and the whiff of his cologne mixed together drove you wild with arousal. You could imagine it, his body on top of your own, licking his own lips before he proceeded to your lick your bare frame, eating off the food you just cooked. No matter what he did, he was insanely skilled at it. He was simply inhuman. Though you washed your hands frantically, though your cleansed your hands of the spices, your mind becoming filthier by the second. Holding the tap tightly, you felt a jerk inside. That was it.

“Lucifer!” You moaned, “I’m close…so close…” you breathed, motivating his fingers to increase speed. Moving your hands towards the marble counter, a loud cry exited your lips as you finally, found your release.

This release was certainly different from all the others you have shared with him.

“Whoa!” You panted, as his fingers retracted, “What-How did you even do that?” You said, looking at him over the shoulder. He smiled. “Darling…”  Lucifer began with pride,  “It’s me…” he said, making your jaw drop as he brought his finger to his lips, sucking your juices in front of your very eyes. You shook your head. “Show off..” You panted with a smile. He chuckled, looking at the pan,  “I bet that won’t be as delicious as you are, my darling” “Normally, I’d be insulted if anyone disses my cooking…” you said, as you stirred the meat, “…but in this case I really don’t know what to say…” you added dreamily. “A Thank you would be suffice…” “How about this…as a thank you?” You said, making his eyes widened with disbelief when you finally closed the the lid of the dutch oven, and turning the stove heat low. Your job was complete. And now it was all up to time to solve this culinary equation.

“Finally…” turning you towards him, Lucifer pulled to kiss you roughly on the lips. It felt like you were being gifted for doing a wonderful job. His kisses were that rewarding. You blushed when you tasted yourself in him, especially as his tongue jumped in to show you.

“Now that I have your complete attention…” your lover began, letting you go, “I’m afraid you won’t escape me for a few hours” he said. You giggled.

“F-few?” You inquired, seeing him put away his phone “Oh wow” you chuckled, full of squeals when he grabbed you by the waist once again.

“Darling…” he purred, brushing his nose against yours, “…Tonight I’m all yours…”

When he kissed you fully once more, you were certainly very glad you decided on slow cooking tonight.

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Tagged: @ladyofwalpurgis​​ @kittenlittle24​ @aberrant-annie​​ @ellimcgiseler​​ @therealcap​​ @valentina15 @sunflowersglowing​​ @jellicorn05​ @sailor-earth-1​ @xxbeckybeexx-blog​ 

Wanna get Tagged?

Check My LUCIFER MASTERLIST here :)

[suspiciouslypinkrosegarden]

Pairing: Unknown (Saeran Choi) X Female Reader CRACK FIC

Description: You are a humble teenage bookworm, obsessed with the performer Lady Gaga and her catchy music. Or perhaps, it’s not her you’re obsessed with, but her back up dancer, Saeran. When your bestie Sasha offers you the chance to watch a performance front row, a chance encounter happens. Can you successfully woo this ̶s̶e̶x̶y̶ ̶b̶e̶a̶s̶t̶ handsome dancer? Or will your attempt to dress up lead to nothing at all.

This is in NO way shape or form to be taken seriously. It is supposed to be a funny parody of many Wattpad stories we may have read way back when. It is not targeting any one author and is entirely based on stereotypes and jokes made about old experiences.

Little warning: Some of the jokes made could be said to be 18+, but nothing is too over the top. The reader is described to be blond with blue eyes, etc., just following Wattpad stereotypes. All descriptions of the reader are for comedic purposes as well as the “authors notes”. The elixir is brought up at the end.

This fic contains and is based on a sketch done by my friend 🤎Melkinpump🤎, who you can find on tumblr here: https://melkinpump.tumblr.com/

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https://youtu.be/dQw4w9WgXcQ song from chapter 2!!!

CHAPTER ONE-

I woke up to see my beautiful turquoise bedroom shining in the sun. It was finally time, today I was going to a Lady Gaga concert. My gaze drifted to the Lady Gaga poster on my wall. But here’s the plot twist. I wasn’t in love with her, but him. The man in the back of the poster, Saeran, one of her favorite back up dancers. He was in all of her shows, and today I just had to seduce him best I could, which would be hard because I was such a nerd. I stared lovingly at his face behind hers, tongue sticking out with a blue color to it from the koolaid he had in his hand. It was pretty rock and roll epic. I sighed. Time to get dressed.

I followed the advice of my friend Sasha, and wore one of her tight black leather dresses. I’m not used to tight clothes, but she’s a seduction master with 10 boyfriends right now, so I’m listening. It hugged my 1 inch waist so tight I couldn’t breathe, and the cleavage showed almost my whole natural DD rack, but I guess it looks hot. This felt weird, so not like me who usually wears big sweaters and big jeans. Of course, I still need to wear my glasses or I can’t see shit. I took down my long, straight platinum blond hair out of my pony tail and brushed it. Lastly, I brushed my teeth incase we do make out.

Sasha arrived in her Jaguar car. She’s super rich unlike me. She yelled at me,

“Why aren’t you wearing makeup? Come here let’s fix you up!”

She put on a lot of my makeup for me, thick black eyeliner and bright red lipstick. I put back on my glasses when she was finished, and she smacked my hand.

“No! Guys don’t like girls who wear glasses, show off those pretty blue eyes!”

I sighed as now I’d be blind for the concert. But it’s ok, it’s all to win his heart. The devil with the white hair and man whore outfit he always wore. It was Lady Gaga’s thing to make him dress like that, I didn’t mind because he’s incredibly sexy in it.

I tried not to let my mind wander too much as Sasha drove us to the concert. I could not be nervous, and I definitely couldn’t allow him to see that I was actually just a little nerd girl. Tonight, I’m a sex kitten just for him. Sasha made sure of that.

END CHAPTER 1

HEY guys I hope you enjoyed chapter one :) chapter two is just down below and maybe you’ll finally get to kiss Saeran idk it’s not like I’m the author ;))

CHAPTER 2-

The concert began. And there he was, dancing so close to me as we had front row seats which Sasha’s rich dad paid for. I’m so lucky to have a rich bestie.

He rocked his hips to the beat, that pink leotard type outfit barely covering much. I could see his beautiful pecs through the heart in the center, shiny from his glistening sweat. Unless Lady Gaga told him to shine up with something, I wouldn’t put it past her.

@melkinpump

After a few minutes, my heart stopped beating. He noticed me! His aqua orbs met mine in the crowd, gazing into my soul with such a fiery passion as he danced, white locks stuck to his forehead with sweat. My friend nudged me, smiling. I couldn’t believe it. I smiled at him, and started singing the words to the song playing to pretend I was unphased.

And then, it happened. He kneeled down next to me, chains from his outfit clinking a little, leaning in with his hand cupping his ear to hear my voice. He then spoke, the tone surprising me as his voice was rather airy.

“I can’t hear you!”

I sang louder.

“You can be louder than that!”

He smirked at me teasingly. My heart was leaping sky high as I got even louder for him. I’d do anything for him.

Just then, he passed me his hand, offering to take me up on stage with him. I hesitantly took it, feeling its heat in mine as he pulled me up on stage next to him. It felt unreal!

“YOU GO GIRL WOOOOH!”, Sasha screamed.

Lady Gaga stopped then cued the next song as Saeran passed me a mic. The music started playing and I could feel my heart in my throat. I couldn’t let him know this confidence was all a fake to win him as I’m usually just a bookworm. I sang best I could, the song was a classic, “Poker Face” by Lady Gaga (link at the top). To my surprise, Saeran also took a mic. It was just the two of us singing, and the audience was in awe because it sounded so good. I didn’t even know I could sing because I never have before, but now I understand I have a hidden talent, and I feel more confident.

As the song wrapped up, he smiled at me and handed me a VIP backstage pass! I thanked him profusely as I got down from the stage, eliciting a wink. I can’t believe I’m going to get to see him backstage!

CHAPTER 3-

Hey guys :/ adult content warning !

Skip ahead to the end of the awesome concert and me and Sasha were heading backstage with my shiny, black VIP pass. It had a mint eye symbol on it which looked bitchin. The guard stopped Sasha from entering,

“Sorry, only that one is allowed by Mr. Saeran.”

Mr. Saeran? Now that’s hot. But I’m also sad because I want to take Sasha too because without her, I wouldn’t even be at this concert! Sasha winked at me,

“It’s ok girl, go live your dream. My dad’s rich so one of my boyfriends is Justin Beiber so I don’t need this anyways.”

“Thanks bestie.” I smiled at her, preparing myself to go meet Saeran and Lady Gaga alone.

I took in a deep breath, my exposed chest nice and puffed out to attract his attention because I know guys like boobs. Sasha told me that, I don’t know much about guys because I’m a nerd. But hopefully now I’d be his nerd.

The security guard led me to the back of the hall, opening the big door, revealing Saeran and Lady Gaga, standing and talking. I was in shock! They were both so hot in person! I am so lucky!

Their heads turned in my direction, Saeran hungrily licking his lips upon seeing me. I couldn’t get any redder!

Just then, Lady Gaga handed me some blue koolaid and told me to take a seat with a sweet smile. I smiled back and sat like she said. Lady Gaga spoke,

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you! You really grabbed my dancer’s attention here as well as mine and the crowds, and I instructed him to pick one lucky girl to meet with today. And here you are! With a singing voice like that, I want to know if you want to join us on tour!”

With that, I’m certain I stopped breathing. To work alongside Saeran AND Lady Gaga?! Incredible! I didn’t mind leaving my old life behind to be sexy and cool always like I was tonight, because at home I was nothing but a 16 year old boring book worm. I’d be happy to never see high school again, but I’d miss Sasha.

“Yes!” I squeaked happily.

“Good girl~” Saeran cooed. I wasn’t expecting him to call me that, and I blushed red to my ears.

“First, let’s finish that drink with a toast to you joining us!” Lady Gaga cheered.

“Ok! Cheers to our new pet here!”, Saeran said raising a glass too.

It’s weird that he called me pet, personally I think a little ominous. But it’s ok, he can call me as he likes.

As I tasted the koolaid, it was super bitter and burned my throat. Saeran and Lady Gaga smiled at me, and I smiled back, forcing myself to chug it as they watched eagerly. I then felt super dizzy and sick…what was this koolaid? As the room started spinning, I reached a hand to my head and winced. Saeran sat next to me and guided me to lean on him. Even though I felt odd, leaning on him still made my heart race.

He stroked my hair, whispering “good girl” once more. This was getting freaky. Did they drug me?

Before I could open my mouth to speak, Lady Gaga took off her crazy wig. I saw long blond curls fall down as she removed her wig cap. Within another second, she popped out colored contacts, revealing orbs as green as emeralds. That wasn’t Lady Gaga at all! It was a fraud! I gasped, but Saeran held me closer, telling me to remain quiet.

“Just as you’re thinking child, this isn’t a Lady Gaga concert at all, but a recruitment for our cult! I killed Lady Gaga long ago, and took her place. Saeran here is in charge of choosing one lucky person each show to join us, and with your voice you’ll make a great performer alongside us here at the Mint Eye!”

I was so angry and confused. What did she mean she killed Lady Gaga? And a cult? No way…

Saeran spoke to me again, “don’t worry little blondy, I chose you because you’ll be a great assistant for me with that voice. We have a lot of work to do, and lucky for you, since I can tell you like me, you get to work alongside me~”. He cackled and then crushed my phone with his bare hands.

I was horrified. I spoke softly, still feeling weird.

“Saeran…I thought you were a good person…I know you are…I love you…”

He seemed moved in those minty eyes, but wouldn’t tell it. His eyes were a tad watery as he scooped me up into his arms and cradled me close to his chest. My head rested on the open heart in his costume.

“I know, and that’s exactly why I chose you. I’ve been watching you for a long time, y/n. You look different without your glasses. But don’t worry, we have contacts for on stage.”

And with that he carried me to his room, and I prepared for my new life as a cultist.

END!!!!

A/N: Hey everyone thanks for reading <3 I wonder what Saeran and y/n are going to do in his room next 😳😜😎🍋!!?!! If I get 3 comments, I’ll write the next part :3 which will be rated 18+ though!!! I think you know why ;)))) !!! Pray for me 🙏 because I just broke my pelvis and I’m so sorry that 18+ part will be a little late because of it but I’ll write it in the hospital! Safe wishes 💋! Thanks for all the support!!!!

Fin! *takes a bow*

[sundancetarot]

“Red Lights and a Suit” Kirishima x ENBY Reader // SFW COMFORT FIC

Hey Guys!! This is my first fic- I quite literally wrote it for my partner but if you want some of that comfort Kiri love, THEN COME GET YA’LL JUICE LMAOO

Description: After recieving news at school pertaining to a school dance, Kiri helps lift your spirits.

Pairing: Non-Binary reader x Eijiro Kirishima

Word Count: 2279

Includes: Loving relationship, affection, pet names, hugs, and appreciation.

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"Grab my hand and keep your eyes closed tight, I don't want the surprised spoiled!".

Hesitantly, you grab a shaken Eiji as he steers your blind eye somewhere you've never experienced but, it feels familiar... somehow, but how? Two steps turned into four, four into six, six into nine, and so on.

"Okay- one more step... watch out for the step.. another... a third- OKAY! Open.".

You want to see wants behind these hands but your brain is having trouble communicating with your bones. You're not nervous but... envious, in ways. Finally, after your self-to-self speech, your hands lower to come in contact with a foggy image of-

{BEEEEEP}

"SHIT-" That was all that could leave your lips... well, there was also FUCK, DAMN, ASS, and your personal "I've been awakened into a frightened state" favorite- CUNT!

You turn over to your phone to finally shut off the constant ringing of your most recent anime binge watch's opening credits song- not your favorite- your most recent.

After, the all too familiar urge of procrastination, you finally manage to shut off the CORRECT alarm this time. Even so, shutting off an alarm has never had many benefits besides reducing the antagonizing screech of above the volume music... however, until now, you have never been greeted by a sleeping Kirishima on your screen behind the alarm window.

That's right... we fell asleep on Facetime together.

You're not surprised that eventually, you'd have these moments- you find the idea of him next to you somewhat comforting.

His blood red-like hair falling onto his pillow has always been a pretty sight to you. His pointed teeth exposed to you, no one knows what he dreams, as he tends to forget but- the way he smiles, even in sleep... No, especially in his sleep, is behind adorable.

You could see from the angle of the phone he had his red LED lights on the highest setting, (typical, was your immediate thought), he has self-drawn art of him in his Red Riot costume with "MANLY" written in comically large lettering under, above, or to the sides of each portrait, this is too cute.

Eiji mentioned last night that he sleeps without a shirt on, he decided to give you this information the moment you started to dose off. Fortunately, waking up before him grants you the pleasure of finally witnessing his rock-hard exterior (I'm so sorry.).

{BEEEEEEEEEP}

"CUNT-" told you. Once again you mistake snooze for the off option. You pick your phone up off the carpet, after launching it several feet in the air. Luckily, your side of the facetime's audio is off and Eiji didn't hear the exaggerated explosion of sounds.

Picking your phone up off the ground which was disconnected from your charger immediately, makes your gut sink deep into your ass, your brain catches up to what you're seeing and pushes your body to practically fly into the bathroom seeing as you only have 40 minutes to get ready now.

That seems like plenty of time if you would have actually showered the night before. Rushing back into your room for your towel, you place Kiri on the sink's counter.

Starting up the shower was a difficult task when you're removing your clothes at the same time, you eventually set it to the right temperature and successfully remove your oversized hoodie with boxer briefs underneath with ease.

After washing your body, you manage to carefully launch yourself back into your room to moisturize and get dressed- you place Kiri on your dresser with a view of you after putting on your underwear.

"Well- aren't you glowing Bubbles?". That humbled cockiness in a person's tone can only come from one person and only this person can make you jump out of your skin in excitement. You turn to face him putting on his shirt because, unlike you, he takes a shower the night before to avoid a rush.

"fuc- don't scare me like that Red!". You definitely miscalculated the emotion there because that was NOT fear, it was a sentiment of emotions on how what he said made you feel inside. Nearly dropping to your knees you tighten up your composure and continue with your routine.

"Sorry babes, you do look unbelievable this morning though." Blushing was definitely out of the question, ain't nothing burning through that melanin babes. Instead, your stomach burns in butterflies as you muster up the words...

"You missed a button on your shirt, Red.". Cool, that was cool.

No, it wasn't.

You can see he wants to make another remark but you notice the new arrangement of numbers on your clock.

[7:27 AM]

Eiji notices your expressions and the faster tempo in your steps as you go from rushing to being quicker than the speed of light. As you reach the door you hear Kiri clear his throat in a way to tell you about the one thing you forgot... HIM! Nearly, slipping under your bed you grab your phone in one swift motion and bolt downstairs.

You don't have time to eat the breakfast your parents teamed up to make so you grab toast and a Capri Sun, hug your parents, pet Rubble; your St. Benard, and bolt for the door.

You hear Kiri's radio in his car blare indistinctive lyrics from his favorite genre "Rock-N-Roll" (I'm so sorry.). You finally start to make your way to school where you pass the place you and Kiri had your first date.

As you ponder the thought of the first time you ever saw him cry, the moment you saw him smile, and the day he said he's his happiest with you casts an unbreakable spell around you. A spell you would never want an antidote for.

After a handful of minutes, you pull into the parking lot across the street from the UA entrance and began the new day. You walk past your classmates greeted with the usual "Hey, Y/N!". From Shoji, "HEY KISSES!". From the always bubbly Uraraka, "Alright boo, heyyy- AH, mwah!" from your favorite person in this school (besides Red of course) Mina.

Speaking of favorite people...

"Guess who?" A pair of hands appear over your eyes and an obviously forced high pitched voice lets you know exactly who it is.

"Hmm... Koda!"

"YE- wait, huh?" Kiri stands there confused arms unraveled from you. You turn with a gigantic smirk plastered across your face, eyes slanted, with defined smile lines signifying your humorous poke at him.

"Oh- haha, laugh out loud- super manly of you." You can hear his sarcasm bursting through his lips. You quickly place your arms around his waist giving him the tightest squeeze letting him know without words how much you miss him. Almost as if without any effort, he grabs you and lifts you into the air, wrapping your legs around him you give him an even tighter hug.

This day, like most, was pretty uneventful so, you zone out... as usual. When you finally come to, you find yourself wrapped around Ojiro's tail, who doesn't mind the immense affection. After your third class period, you meet up with your friends in the cafeteria.

Like any other day, you offer to pay for Uraraka who happily accepts; even when she has enough for a meal you still insist. I mean- why not? Kiri always has your bill.

[2:38 PM]

We finally reach last period and the class president Tenya, announces the school's annual Sadie Hawkins dance. [Brief Sadie Hawkins dance explanation: A dance in a tradition where the girl asks the boy out.]

"Well- what are Y/N and Eijiro going to do?" huh.

"How is Y/N going to ask out Eijiro- they're not a girl therefore how will they find a date to go?" Stupidity graced this one early but, embarrassment graced you immediately.

You couldn't form your words properly to explain or defend, you could only leave. Eiji tries to come after you but you signal him to stay there.

"You're such a douche you know that, right?" Kiri says dropping his almost permanent grin.

"LANGUAGE!" Iida screeches while flapping his limbs completely missing his faults.

[8:13 PM]

You sit in your room foolishly stumped by Iida's uncalled for questions. It doesn't make sense, honestly, you would never let Iida's "no thoughts, just speak" way of speech get to you.

You pause your binge of "Criminal Minds" to go down to the kitchen for a quick snack when you see a bright flare of red pass by your kitchen window wrapping around to the front of your house.

Your immediate thought is that this must be a police car making its way to a crime scene- being a hero in training gave you the instinct of potential bad around every corner. So, this was not a threat nor surprise to you.

{My Red Riot❤️ one (1) new message}

You were wondering where he's been all day. You haven't spoken to him all day, you even tried texting him, and you were left on read by red (I'm sorry once again.) with no response. You are curious as to what he has to say though.

{My Red Riot❤️ : Come outside.}

I won't say I'm nervous but I am definitely confused. I make my way to the front door and take a deep breath while turning the knob...

"Hey, Bubbles." standing there in a grey suit with a red tie, red handkerchief in the left chest pocket, maroon shoes accompanied by burgundy calf socks, and a rose pinned to his suit to top it all off next to his Jeep Wrangler with modified red headlights was your Red Riot.

"We don't need a school dance to strengthen our relationship when we have each other to look at and each other to embrace- I promise to never have this become a rocky relationship..."

You chuckle at the very thought-provoking joke. "... I love you Bubbles." How could anyone be so lucky? You can feel the tears forming already as he walks towards you.

Lifting your chin up to face him he asks you one question...

"Can I kiss you?". You meet his eyes, you feel equal.

"Yes- Of course, you can Red...". He lifts your face up higher and your lips meet he has just confirmed that you are equal- more than partners, but lovers.

You don't know where to put your arms, what to think, or what to feel but it doesn't matter. You feel safe, you feel protected, you are loved.

You pull apart from each other for a moment before getting another quick peck before a grin paints his face, it resembles The Cheshire Cat's smug grin. You don't know whether to be comforted or genuinely terrified by the devilish stare.

"Well- aren't ya gonna get dressed?"

"For?". What has he planned?

"For our Sadie Hawkins- Bubbles, DUH!"

"Oh- I mean, um, YES; of course! Our Sadie Hawkins!". You don't know what he's talking about but, You trust what he does. You rush back inside to my room... time to do the damn thing.

After a while of searching for combinations, You walked out the front door in a black turtleneck, burgundy blazer with black buttons and lining, matching dress pants, and black Doc Martens for footwear to a stunned Kiri.

"Wow- you look... stunning, Y/N." You haven't heard him say my name since we started dating, it's such a genuine feeling. Kiri pauses and rushes back to the car, in a hurry he returns with a small box... this isn't a- right?

Kiri falls to his knee and lifts up the box to a petunia corsage that he slides onto your wrist, completing your look. He picks you up and carries you towards the car door where he reaches out his right arm to open it and places you inside with his left.

The car ride is smooth, no bums in the road and if there were you didn't notice- you could only pay attention to Kiri's presence. You feel a breeze sweep your hand and look down to Red's hand comfortably resting on yours.

He's warm and his hand is incredibly soft definitely the opposite of his Unbreakable form. Being with him in this car feels almost sheltering to you, like a second home of love.

While you were off daydreaming, the car stopped in front of Kiri's house. Your door opens to fully red Kirishima, clearly embarrassed by his blush, you don't react to it much. A sharp feeling strikes your brain as soon as his hand gently grasps yours... you've lived this before.

"Grab my hand and keep your eyes closed tight, I don't want the surprised spoiled!".

Right- your quirk of future vision. It feels dreamlike but as soon as it's put into motion you can pinpoint everything that'll occur after the first stage, it helps with catching villains in the act of their crimes.

"Okay- one more step... watch out for the step.. another... a third- OKAY! Open.".

You let down our hands to a bundle of streamers, lights, and a painted canvas of you and Kiri with a message written on the bottom of it "RED RIOT'S REASON TO RIOT". You don't even give yourself time to process before leaping into his arms with a kiss, you both fall back onto his lawn where you spontaneously combust into laughter.

This night has been the greatest you've ever had- he knew your favorite movies to watch, shows to binge, and music to dance to the entire night. He knows you.

"I love you, Red."

"I love you, Bubbles."

⬇️PLAYLIST BASED ON FIC⬇️

[nutty1005]

Xiao Zhan: Heart of a Youth – Serenity, Ingenuous and Principled

Translator’s Note: I take a break from the acting analysis articles and bring you something more current... I hope all of us can draw strength from this!

Original Article:https://www.weibo.com/ttarticle/p/show?id=2309404480985398902834#_0 Original Author: 雪色烟波里

“He is but a child of 30 years old.”

Quite frequently, the phrase “He is just a child” had been used as an excuse by fans, and I am not sure since when this has changed to become a way of mockery. Even before fans uttered anything on this, “bystanders” would have started going crazy with “although he made a mistake, he is still a child! So we should not let this go!”. I agreed very much with this statement – no one should use the identity of a child to absolve his responsibilities as an adult, an adult should act as one. However, when they started using this phrase on Xiao Zhan, and added his age as a form of mockery, this started to stink…

I felt as though I was personally insulted, since I am a self-claimed young girl nearing the age of 30. Using someone’s age as an insult is very impolite, since no one escapes the fate of becoming a 30 year old.

Always realistic about his age, and his self-deprecating laugh when he speaks of his entry to entertainment business 

To me, being of a certain age and yet having a heart of a youth is not conflicting. Some 18 year old could be methodical, sleek and boring, while others could be 80 and still retain their heart of a child, innocent and unblemished. As for Xiao Zhan, he had always positioned himself as an adult, and never used any excuses to shrink from his responsibilities, and therefore when his age was used as a weapon against him, and calling him a “30 year old child”, is definitely inappropriate. However, in the current darkness, I was able to see his heart of youth and his simplicity.  And I would put this across with the following phrase. 

A poem is always hard to translate, and therefore I give you the caption words instead. Serenity, ingenuous and principled.

SERENITY

“I always reminded myself, for many things, there is no need to openly display that on the screen, but you should just quietly do, and your efforts would always be seen. There is no need to fight for everything, and fighting for screen time would definitely be something not needed.” —- Xiao Zhan

The clip below was shot on 1 Feb 2016, when Xiao Zhan just debuted. Not vying or fighting might sound ridiculous in the world of adult, but this encompassed the entirety of Xiao Zhan’s acting career. No matter whether he was a side character, a supporting character or the lead character, he had always been quiet and low-key.

Moving automatically to the side for ”Joy of Life“ announcement press conference

In his group, he is willing to be on the sides and become part of the background, always all smiles but never speaking much, always wanting to do his personal best, but never looking for any rewards. In most of the concerts, he would be in the corner, running across the stage to get into position, but never skimping on his dance moves. 

Xiao Zhan when his group was still active 

Xiao Zhan during the Talent Show, as bright as the sun 

I liked to watch Xiao Zhan’s stage performances very much. From a technical perspective, his dance skills were way off from that of a professional’s, but you could definitely feel his enthusiasm no matter how far off to the side he was. Instead of admirable skills, he utilized more of his ability to inject emotions into his performances, creating an atmosphere of joy and passion. He enjoyed every single of his performances with passion. No matter whether there were flowers or applause for him, he always gave his 100% to the stage. For one to understand his dancing style, gifs are not enough; I would recommend watching his fan focused videos to understand better. 

Enjoying the stage with all of him 

That infectious smile

As a group vocal, Xiao Zhan is quite decent – his high notes are clear, his tone clean and warm, and generally very unique. Personally, I enjoy many of his China themed songs, never tiring from songs such as Qu Jin Chen Qing [曲尽陈情] (Wei Wuxian OST from the Untamed) and the cover of A Laugh over the Blue Sea [沧海一声笑] (OST from the The Smiling, Proud Wanderer movie).

Recently, there were many who mocked at him for being an idol vocal but not knowing how to use an in-ear monitor, but they never thought about whether a vocal of a relatively unknown idol group would have the right to his own personal in-ear monitor. He had to borrow for his performances, and if he was not able to adjust in time, he would just have to bear with it, because he had no right to complain. After he attained some fame, he was able to finally get his own in-ear monitor, and he immediately started learning from his mentors, so what is there to mock? I only saw a person who was able to practice patience in adversity, work hard and progress in good times. By watching the entire series of “Our Song”, you would have a better understanding of his vocal skills.

Xiao Zhan during the rehearsal of Our Song 

Xiao Zhan singing “My China Heart” on CCTV 

After attaining some level of fame, Xiao Zhan did not let that get to his head, but instead clearly understood his current position, and that popularity could be temporary, only his works would be the basis of his career. Many of his colleagues would describe him as “hardworking and down-to-earth”. In terms of his career, he never slacked off any of his jobs, always prepared and went all out. In interpersonal relations, he was always polite and restrained, and treated everyone around him modesty and warmth. His attitude towards his acting was that he always had to do better than what he did previously. His sense of serenity was not limited to just himself or to his future, and this instead created endless possibilities for his future. 

Always grateful 

He never liked to claim credit, never cared about having commendations – when the host said that the Summer of 2019 belonged to Wei Wuxian, he replied that the Summer of 2019 belonged to The Untamed. When the fans were looking forward to his undubbed performances, he instead pointed out that the voice actors did plenty of value add. When the host asked him about that famous clip of him tearing up during script reading, he instead pointed out Xuan Lu and said that she was also tearing up but it was not captured on screen. You can understand how emotionally intelligent and humble he was just from a few interviews.

Humble, kind and sincere

Detailed and polite 

He believed that hard work could change his fate, his faith almost like that of a fresh-faced youth – he did not care about everything else, except that if he did well enough he would be eventually rewarded. However, is the world really like this? He opened a path with his stubborn simplicity, and forced his way out, but now he has tripped and fallen. While everyone else is cheering and trying to add fuel to the flames, looking at this “entertainment business oddity” paying the price for not keeping to the “rules”, there may be just a handful of us reflecting on why it would be so difficult for a normal person to succeed. Does it mean that eking out a path on your own with just courage would only result in failure? This is something I refuse to believe. I will wait, and wait for him to stand again, to prove to the world that a person can create his own path with hard work, and we can follow every of his steps and not be defeated easily! 

We will not be easily defeated 

INGENUOUS

On why he did not change his Weibo account after joining the entertainment business:

“I did not change because there was no need to. There is nothing to hide from the others. In those times, in 2010, that was exactly how I felt, I’m very open, I feel that there’s really nothing. In fact, this proves that my personality is not what everyone thinks as “super nice”, I’m just a living person, I feel that no one is perfect, and I don’t want to be a perfect doll.” —- Xiao Zhan

Ingenuous

He did not change his Weibo account after 5 years in the entertainment business, he had always been a candid person. However, he overestimated the world’s tolerance and kindness, and all his personal inside jokes from his commoner days had been used to smear his and his friends’ reputation. Now, if you open Weibo, you would can see all the cyber-bullying against him, as though he had done a heinous crime, but the basis of all these were just some vulgarities he said 10 years ago. Is not the world ridiculous? Based on this, I could have been the most evil girl online, if whatever I said in Baidu Forums were ever exposed, since not only I used vulgarities, I also mocked posters who made a fool of themselves, but these history does not stop me from choosing to be a kind and upright person today. A person is ever-changing, and if we had to gauge a person’s current state on what he did 10 years ago, wouldn’t that be narrow minded? In fact, the Weibo environment 10 years ago is different from that of today, and it is ridiculous to impose current rules on something that was done 10 years ago. I respect all who are candid about themselves, and I would want to be such a person as well, and face the world with an open mind. 

The cyber-bullying could be seen everywhere 

This is overboard… and also something I rather not translate 

Xiao Zhan did not deliberately create any persona, and his candid nature in handling himself is very obvious. He did not pretend to be someone he was not, did not shy away from showing his anxiety, and always used his true self to face everything:

During his Milan interview, he said excitedly that this was his first time to Europe.

During his time in X-Fire, on his first high speed rail trip, he was so excited that he recorded a vlog on it.

During one of their group activities, the organizers arranged for them to stay in an luxurious hotel, and he was so excited that he recorded another vlog on it, showing off the hotel as well as the huge bathtub.

When faced with a cat, he would smile in spite of himself. And he would play with random cats, be accidentally scratched by one and had to go for jabs.

His phone wallpaper had always been of “The God of Fortune”

His eyes would brighten up when he speaks or hears of money.

In fact, if you study him long enough, you would know that he is not perfect, but just a vivid, living person like each and everyone of us.

“This is my first time to Europe” “I just felt, wow, this is amazing!”

His excited face on his way to the high speed rail 

His excitement introducing his hotel room, and whoever used this to spread rumors is just plain evil 

An ingenuous gentleman, his heart pure and clear, he does not need to be secretive about himself, nor does it need to disguise himself. This is the Xiao Zhan I know, and I accept every of his imperfections, and I am willing to work with him to become a better person. I hope that when I am nearing 30 years old, I would still be exuberant when I encounter the first snows of that year. 

And I hope that your heart will always remain clear, and your eyes forever starry 

PRINCIPLED

“I feel that youth is that strength, just that strength, undaunted, undefeated by fate and fearless.” —- Xiao Zhan

In Everlasting Classics, Xiao Zhan sang “Bamboo in the Rock”. To be a person, one would strive to be a gentleman. To be a gentleman, one would strive to be like bamboo – unwavering against strong winds, and upright between the heaven and earth.

Relentlessly holding onto the mossy hill The roots buried within broken rocks Tough and strong despite endless erosion and assault Firmly against winds from all directions

Xiao Zhan said that his inner self is like bamboo, firm and tenacious. Many would scoff at this, and say that he did not do enough to control his fans. But is this really the issue of him not providing guidance for his fans? In fact, he has always been telling his fans, but this had been hijacked by the racket of public opinion.

“I can see that you say that studying is difficult, or work makes you unhappy, but growth is like climbing a mountain, the bigger it is, the harder it is, leave your grouses in your heart, when you look back at these problems again, you will realize that they were not difficult.” —- Xiao Zhan

“Actually, I want to tell everyone that no matter whether schooling or working, don’t forget to love life, to experience life and notice everything around you, love it!” —- Xiao Zhan

“There are both sides to everything, there are people who likes you and there will definitely be people who doesn’t like you, you don’t have to care too much about it. As long as we have good momentum, there will be more who will like us, and I will fight hard for those who likes us.” —- Xiao Zhan

Did anyone hear those?

“Idol and fans are actually symbiotic, we support each other and move forward together. When we live our respective lives well and continue to become better selves.” —- Xiao Zhan

“Hence I would say that my fans, I feel that you must first live your lives well so that you have spare time to like and follow the idol you like.” —- Xiao Zhan

Did anyone remember those?

“I am actually very careful, because now I represent not just Xiao Zhan, but my team as well, and if not for myself, there is no need to create unnecessary trouble. Frankly speaking, I haven’t met anything I can’t quite solve myself. But for many problems, others could only provide some opinions, give some directions, cheer you on, but they can’t really solve it for you. How to persist, how to endure, still all depends on myself, because only I know what really happened.” —- Xiao Zhan

“I feel that the ideal status is not changed by regrets. What is most important about life is making sure we live in the present and live well, and not regret the past. The present and future are the most important.” —- Xiao Zhan

Did anyone understand these?

He never stopped his guidance, but many were blind to them. Xiao Zhan’s firm attitude comes from being strict with himself, instead of becoming a nagging teacher disciplining his countless fans. A person could choose the person to like, but the person could not choose who would like him. Some people could not even be disciplined by their parents, how could this burden be instead placed on Xiao Zhan, who even has problems finding time to sleep? Is this not being difficult? If he had this ability, he might as well not be an actor, but become a professional educator.

He had always been providing guidance, but he definitely cannot control everyone

When large groups of anti fans overtook the “Secret Garden” in Sept 2019, spamming that post with the bad comments, his fans quickly counter spammed the post in fear that he might discover and read those bad comments. The unnatural spike in comments obviously alerted him, and he posted “I’m here, goodnight”. Those who took this out of context to claim that he was inciting more verbal war obviously did not see the entire comment. 

The “shhhhh” emoticon is often left out when pointing this out. 

In the storm of cyber-bullying, the only target is Xiao Zhan, because his Weibo account is the only one attached to a real name.

His personality is 100% firm and tenacious. His tenacity is in how he insisted to his doctor that he would continue to practice his dance steps despite inflammation in his knees; when his toenail fell off, he only asked if it would regrow. His tenacity is in how he would wear thick layers of period drama costume in the height of summer, and wear tattered rags in the deep freezing cold of winter. His tenacity is in shooting period dramas for straight 2 years, not knowing if they would actually be allowed to air. His tenacity is in how he would be fighting a lawsuit against his management, saying “Don’t look back, ever!”, while at the same time managing his endorsement deals by himself and plotting his own future. His tenacity is in how he would not give up despite not earning enough to support himself, and having to go to events by himself without any assistants.

He had survived one of the toughest period, so why should he admit defeat this time round? He would not, and his fans also have no reason to abandon him as well. He is faultless in this, and perhaps causing envy is his only fault here. Time will prove his innocence, falsehoods will not withstand the test of time.

Biting his air tickets, so that he has spare hands to carry his own luggage. We will not give up no matter how tough it gets. 

We will accompany you through thick and thin

We will become better people together

And I will end this article with another poem from Zheng Ban Qiao (the poet for Bamboo in the Rock):

A bamboo, an orchid and a rock, with integrity, discipline and fortitude

In a room these oozes gentlemanliness, evergreen against the test of time

A bamboo, an orchid and a rock, with integrity, discipline and fortitude

Firmly against gales and snowstorm, they will bring the news of the spring breeze

[tes-trash-blog]

So, uh, a while back you mentioned making a post about how Prisoner McNord might affect the player experience/perceptions of the "default" and I would be super interested in reading that

So!

I have a few thoughts already on what is considered “default” in Skyrim to be expanded upon in a future shitstorm rant (it’s on the list, between Almalexia Is Interesting Actually and Even More Crying About Snow Elves Part 17: My Tears Have Become Sentient And Are Also Crying).

And as always, keep in mind that Skyrim is coming up on 9 years old, elements of it have not aged well, and this is in no way, shape, or form meant to be a “If you like Skyrim then you’re Bad” rant. In case you haven’t noticed, I kind of love that game. It has flaws; all games do, and frankly it’s a miracle this game is as solid as it is. The writers are that, writers. They had deadlines to make, hardware limitations to consider, and above all else, worked for a company that wanted to make money.

To keep this relatively short I’ll focus on how your perception of Skyrim is influenced by the first few minutes of the game via Ralof, the Nordiest Nord to Nord since Ysgranord, and how the writers really, really really wanted you to hold on to that perception.

Overanalysis and spoilers (Metal Gear Solid, Borderlands, and Bioshock respectively yes this will all make sense in context) under the cut.

Part 1: How To Make A Perspective In Three Easy Steps

As the saying goes, first impressions are lasting impressions. This is evident in.. well, every bit of media you can find. The first chapters of a book, the first episode of a show, the first 15 minutes of a video game, all as a general rule:

1.) Introduces the setting, a part of the main plot, and with these two, sets the tone of the medium (high fantasy movie, light hearted TV show, mystery series, horror game, etc.). Exceptions exist, especially in horrors, mysteries, and certain visual novels, but even these exceptions rely on setting a tone so they can subvert your expectations later on.

2.) Give you an idea of what is going on. This is normally accomplished with exposition of some sort; Star Wars had its famous screen crawl expositing the dark times in the Galaxy, Borderlands literally begins with “So, you want to hear a story..”, Metal Gear Solid briefs Solid Snake (you, the player character) on a vital mission to save two hostages and end a terrorist threat, so on and so forth. And again, there are exceptions: Bioshock purposefully disorients you with a plane crash in the middle of the ocean so you’re inclined to trust the first person who talks to you.

This all serves to suspend disbelief, immerse you, and earn your trust. This is a new world, you have no idea what’s going on, so you’re gonna take cues from someone who does. Combine points 1 and 2, and that..

3.) Gives you an idea of what is “good” and what is “bad”. Damn near every story has a central conflict, you gotta pick a side, and there’s gonna be a bias as to which one is superior or morally just. Using Bioshock again, this mysterious man named Atlas guides you through the first level, and tells you how to fight and survive in the hostile environment of Rapture; meanwhile, Andrew Ryan taunts and belittles you, and also has a giant golden bust of himself. The shorthand is: Atlas is humble, helpful, and good, while Andrew Ryan is a megalomaniac who wants you dead. Leaning on Borderlands again, the first voice you hear is literally a guardian angel telling you not to be afraid, and that you are destined to do great things. Once more with Metal Gear: Your organization and your commanders are good, you are good because you’re saving innocent people, and FOXHOUND is bad because they’re terrorists who have the means to launch a nuclear warhead.

Keeping all this in mind, let’s do a quick runthrough of the first, let’s call it 15 minutes of Skyrim. No commentary on my end, just a play by play of the beginning of the game.

Part 2: First Impressions In Action

You wake up on a cart. Your vision is hazy, and you are clearly disoriented. You see a man bound and gagged, another man in rags, and several men dressed like soldiers. Everyone on the cart is tied up, and the people driving the cart are wearing a neat, vastly different uniform.

Then comes the famous line: “You! You’re finally awake! You were caught trying to cross the border, got caught in that Imperial ambush same as us, and that thief over there!” The thief bitterly remarks how these damn Stormcloaks had to cook up trouble in a nice and lazy Empire. The Nord who first spoke with you nobly says that we’re all brothers and sisters in these binds.

The presumed Imperial tells you all to shut up. Undeterred, the thief and the Stormcloak provide more exposition: The gagged man is the leader of the resistance, is supposedly the true High King, and since he’s on the cart, it’s clear that everyone on board is bound for the executioner’s block. The thief is terrified; the Nord accepts his fate, but takes a moment to opine on better days when he flirted with girls and “when the Imperial walls made him feel safe.” There is also a remark about General Tulius and the Thalmor agents; the Nord, in a rare bit of anger, damns the Elves and insinuates they had a hand in this capture.

It’s execution time. General Tulius gives a speech about how Ulfric started a civil war and killed the former High King; Ulfric, being gagged, cannot say a word in defense. A Stormcloak is executed to mixed reactions (“You Imperial bastards!” “Justice!”, etc.). The thief runs away; he is shot by Imperial archers, demonstrating the futility of escape. It’s your turn. The Nord in Imperial armor states you’re not on the list; the Imperial captain doesn’t care and orders you to the block anyway.

You see the headsman’s axe rise up when, as if the gods intervene, a dragon appears and interrupts your execution. In the chaos, you run with the Stormcloaks. The game does not give you the option to run away alone, or with the Imperials; until you meet Hadvar again in the fire and death, you take orders from Ulfric.

Part 3: The Crux

A lot happens in the first few minutes of Skyrim. You’re disoriented from being unconscious, and that’s compounded by your two near death experiences (point 2), the first person you meet is a calm, almost reassuring mouthpiece of exposition while the other side, at best, doesn’t care if you die (points 2 and 3), one major aspect of the plot is revealed (point 1, and the tone is that this is a classic Rebellion story).

And people love rebellion stories. Americans especially; we spend billions on the day when a bunch of white guys said “fuck you” to a bunch of other white guys. With the additional layer of when Skyrim was developed, by who, and in what landscape it was written.. Yeah. There may be two ways to go for the Civil War questline, but for most players (myself included!) their first gut instinct is going to be “side with the guys who didn’t just try to kill me.”

It’s the same song and dance. In Bioshock, your instinct is to trust the Irish guy who wants to help you get out of Rapture alive, but he needs your help first. In Borderlands, your instinct is to trust the woman who is literally called a guardian angel, and she shows her compassion by asking you to help the people of Fyrestone and the poor robot who got hurt in a gunfight. In Metal Gear, your instinct is to shut down the threat because terrorists are evil and these ones are not just terrorists, they’re deserters. Hell, even in other Elder Scrolls games the plot is laid out by helping hands: you’re a prisoner being contacted by your murdered friend, and given the goal to stop Jagar Tharn (Arena), you’re a Blades agent tasked with putting a vengeful spirit to rest that leads you to a weapon that can secure the Empire’s power (Daggerfall), Azura literally tells you not to be afraid, and that you destined to stop an old threat (Morrowind), and a soon-to-be-assassinated Emperor voiced by Actual Grandpa Patrick Stewart recognizes you in a prophetic dream (Oblivion).

Where Skyrim departs from these games, and even the other Elder Scrolls titles, is how much it enforces the first thing you see as solidly good and evil, and how little it tries to subvert that perception. Remember point 2, when the game makes it clear that this person is trustworthy? Therein lies the bread and butter of psychological horror, mysteries, and heart wrenching plot twists: that trust gets tested, and often broken.

The rebel leader Atlas? He’s somehow more evil than Andrew Ryan, and has subtly controlled you the entire time with a command phrase (“Would you kindly..?”). You are unable to stop yourself when you bludgeon Andrew Ryan to death at Ryan’s command. “A man chooses,” he tells you. “A slave obeys.” His final words are him telling you that you are a puppet, only able to obey.

The end of Borderlands reveals that “Angel” was watching you the entire time.. from a Hyperion satellite. You were tricked into opening a Vault holding back a dangerous monster, and you don’t even know why. Borderlands 2 goes further into just what (or rather who) Angel is: a teenage girl and a powerful Siren, used by her own demented, evil, father, Handsome Jack, to manipulate the Vault Hunters and gain more power for himself. Her final mission given to you is simple: she wants you to set her free and end her father’s mad march to power by killing her.

Metal Gear Solid ultimately plays it straight in that you stop the terrorists and disable the nuclear threat, but you don’t emerge from the rubble as an action hero; you’re forced to kill your own brother, the terrorist cell is revealed to be composed almost entirely of people exploited by your organization, and you secretly carry  a virus designed to kill the people you were trying to save. War, as it turns out, is not as clear-cut as “we good, they bad”. The people you’ve killed without thinking are your genetic brothers. Sniper Wolf, the assassin who shot your commander’s niece, survived a genocide and has never known a life outside of war. Psycho Mantis’ telepathic gifts were exploited by both the KGB and FBI until he lost his mind. Ocelot is Ocelot.

Oh, but those are other games. What about The Elder Scrolls? Well..

In Daggerfall, your search for hidden correspondence leads you to finding the Mantella, a sort of soul gem that can power the superweapon everyone wants: The Numidium. There are six entities total who want the Mantella, some for their personal gain, one to make a home for his people, and one so he may finally die; the Underking’s soul is in that gem, you see, and he’s been trapped in this misery since the days of Tiber Septim.

In Morrowind, Dagoth Ur recognizes you not as a schlub with a dummy thick journal, but as his oldest and dearest friend. The Empire who guided you for so long? They’ve manipulated you into taking down the Tribunal, destroying the one weapon that could stand against their might, and depending on your interpretation of “then the Nerevarine sailed to Akavir”, have possibly killed you.

And what of everyone’s favorite game in the series to mock? Surprise! Oblivion isn’t even about you, hero! It’s about the actual chosen one, Martin Septim! Sure you can join the Thieves’ Guild and cavort about as Grey Fox, or uncover the traitor of the Dark Brotherhood, or run off and become the Mad God.. but none of those events actually acknowledge you. To be the Grey Fox is to literally be forgotten, by the time the Dark Brotherhood questline is complete there is effectively no more Dark Brotherhood, and to become Sheogorath is to lose yourself entirely. The Hero of Kvatch is one who is ultimately forgotten. Your actions were important, have no doubt, but such is the fate of the unsung hero: they’re not sung about.

Even Arena plays a little bit with your expectations in that the Staff of Chaos alone isn’t enough to stop Jagar Tharn; you need friendship (just kidding it’s a magic gem in the Imperial Palace). Skyrim.. kinda glosses over that. They land a few punches, but for them to stay with you, you have to keep an open mind.

Part 4: Why does that matter?

Because if your expectations are never subverted, your trust never tried in any meaningful way, then your perception of a very specific, spoon-fed worldview is never challenged. The trust you build with a group that is, in essence, a fascist paramilitary cult is never shaken in any way that’s meaningful. You get some lines intended to evoke sadness when you sack Whiterun, but by then it’s too late. Not that it matters; at the end of the Stormcloak questline, there’s not much question about who was in the right. You never lose friends or allies; the Jarls in the holds change, but is there much difference between Idgrod Ravencrone and Sorli the Builder? You might feel a little guilty when you see the Dunmer forced to live in the slums, but then the haughty High Elf says that she didn’t laze around and instead made a name for herself, or the Dark Elf farmer who complains about his snowflake kinsmen harping on about “injustices”. The Argonians seem decent until you meet the skooma addict/thief, and the Khajiit.. let’s just say that even if we disregard the two Khajiit assassins sent to kill you, there exist a lot of extremely harmful stereotypes that none of your friends dispel. They commit no horrific war crimes in your presence, the worst you hear is a Nord (normally a bandit) yell “Skyrim is for the Nords!”, or the clumsy Welcome to Winterhold script where a Dunmer woman is harassed by two Nords; one’s a veteran, by the way. Got run through the chest by an Imperial craven, or so the story goes.

Your only chance to rattle the Nord-driven story is to go against your gut feeling and side with the Imperials (the plotline is pretty weak, not gonna lie), or complete the optional quest No One Escapes Cindha Mine where you see what a Stormcloak sympathizer does to the Forsworn. Even if you complete that quest, the Forsworn still attack you. “They’re savages,” say the Nords, and the game isn’t too inclined to say otherwise.

When it comes to portraying the Nords in any light that’s not negative, Skyrim doesn’t deliver like it did in other games. You saw what life is like in Morrowind under Tribunal rule; it’s not great. The Houses are almost universally awful and they have slaves. You see the destruction in Cyrodiil and hear the rumors on how much the Empire is flailing with the Oblivion Crisis. Hell, even Arena tells you that life in Tamriel kind of sucks, but it’ll suck a little less when Tharn is dead.

That doesn’t happen in Skyrim. You are encouraged to join the sympathetic Stormcloaks, you find out your destiny as Dragonborn, and you set all these things right. Of course you do. You’re a hero, baby. Others have gone on about how storybook the Dragonborn questline is so I won’t go too much in, but that’s it exactly: Storybook. You’re Neutral Good. You’re going to kill the bad dragon that wants to do its job and eat the world. 

And that refusal to really examine the nuances and horrors of war, to consider what it means to be a hero that is never morally challenged or forced into a Total Perspective Vortex, to never challenge an extremely biased perspective or even explore its “logical” conclusion?

It leads to extremely dangerous ways of thinking if unchecked.

[moonstomars]

Follow the light

Melizabeth week Day One - Light/Darkness 

Notes: To be honest, I don’t know what this is. Probably the most random AU I’ve ever written. But it’s the first thing that came into my mind when I read the prompt for day one! (I totally blame my undying love for fantasy for this) I could have written more but knowing me, it would have turned into a super long fic with a too intricate plot (too late, this is already happening in my mind) and I would have never posted it. Well, I hope you’ll enjoy!  

Light Spirits rarely came out at night, so it was with surprise that Elizabeth caught glimpse of something gold and radiant through the window, when she looked up from the now clean plates. It disappeared in the blink of an eye, but it had been there, she was sure about it. She glanced at her sisters, who were sitting on the table behind her. Thet hadn’t noticed anything. Veronica pointed out at something on Margaret’s book and shook her head, while the oldest sister giggled, before whispering something in her ear that made Veronica snort. 

Elizabeth’s eyes returned to the window and - there! She saw it again. Something quick and bright as a falling star had just cut the darkness, nothing more than a flash in the night. Elizabeth carefully put the last plate at its place, then dried her hands on the apron before taking it off. “I’m going to check the animals,” she said to her sisters as she passed by the table. It wasn’t an uncommon task for her. Her father had always wanted to make sure that everything was in place for the night, and now that she and her sisters were old enough they often took his place, allowing Bartra to rest. 

Margaret looked up and smiled, whispering a soft “Thank you, Ellie.” 

“And be careful!” Veronica added. Elizabeth nodded without a word. There was nothing to worry about, not on their farm, not in the small village of Liones, that was far enough from both the capital and the borders. The most dangerous things that could happen there were mostly accidents, like that time when Cain broke his leg falling from the roof or when little Mead got bitten by a stray dog. Elizabeth had helped doctor Dana to take care of the two of them and many others as his apprentice and until now, they had saved every man or woman who was taken to them. No, there was really nothing to worry about. 

Even wearing her cloak, the night was chill. Elizabeth shivered, lifting the lantern as she moved towards the barn. Her father was rich, surely the richest man of Liones, but he was still humble and handled his terrain by himself, with only the help of some of the boys from the town. The animals were alright, quiet in the darkness, and it didn’t take long before Elizabeth turned around, studying the outline of the farm against the sky. She should have come back, now, yet she hesitated for a few moments. There was something in the air, it felt funny, almost like a storm was about to break; it made her skin tingle and her stomach twitch. But the sky was clear, and the few, white clouds that covered peaks of the mountains were too far to be a problem. She breathed in and out, slowly, almost as she was waiting for something, then she sighed and took a step towards the farm. 

A flash shone at her right and she stopped with a gasp, turning around. The light illuminated the trunks in the little wood that skirted her father’s land; she couldn’t distinguish what was producing it, and as she stared at it with wide eyes it started dimming, slowly disappearing between the trees. Her legs moved on their own will and in a moment she found herself walking through the trees, the lantern still in her hand, as she followed the light. 

She should have turned around and come back, Elizabeth knew it. Even though Liones wasn’t a dangerous place it was dark and if she had tripped over a root and sprained her ankle, her family would have been worried and they wouldn’t have known where to look for her. But … but it was a Light Spirit. In the middle of the night. A thrill of excitement crossed her entire body and she hurried, a smile forming on her lips. She could already picture the amazed look on her sisters’ faces when she would have told them! But before, she had to get a story to tell. 

No one knew what Light Spirits were, nor where did they come from. On sunny days, you could see them dance in the sun rays, brilliant figures wich shape changed constantly. Often, they looked like people, though they were tiny, usually no taller than one or two feet; getting close enough, it was possible to distinguish their limbs and even their feature before they vanished into thin air. Some other times, they simply looked like spirals of light, twirling among the roofs and the trees. They were beautiful, joyful even, and every time she saw them Elizabeth couldn’t help but stare, following their paths in the air. 

They were also said to be devils. Ludociel, the priest from the high church that often visited the town of Liones, always included some them in his sermons. Light Spirit, he said, might look like gold and joy but it was just an illusion to hide their true, corrupted nature. They were rotten on the inside and their aim was to deceive the humans and drive them away from the Goddesses above, that they feared and hated. 

Elizabeth snorted. Ludociel knew nothing. The truth was that no one knew anything about the Light Spirits. Not what they were or where they come from. As far as they knew, they could have been sent by the Goddesses themselves, even though they weren’t mentioned in the sacred scrolls. They were just there, and they had always been - since the time when her father was a kid and even before. Here and everywhere else in the country of Britannia. And so Elizabeth kept going. Every step took her further and further from home. Alone and surrounded by darkness, she knew she should have felt scared, but the sight of the light that still palpitate a little farther, close enough that she could follow it but not clearly see it, gave her courage. She didn’t feel alone - she wasn’t alone. 

Until suddenly, the light faded away, almost disappearing between the trunks. Elizabeth gasped, her heart jumping in her throat. With the only light of her lantern to illuminate her path, the wood looked different, spectral and dark. What I’m doing here?, she thought, almost taking a step back. She should have been home by now, her sisters were surely worried about her, what were she thinking when -

Another flash illuminated the night, dimmer than the previous one and coming right behind the trees she was facing. It was followed by a sound, something muffled and barely audible. It could have been an animal, maybe even something dangerous, but Elizabeth didn’t run away. She should have probably done that, but she couldn’t go back now. Not when she was so close. She took a deep breath before taking a step forward, then another and another, until she put her hand on the bark of a tree to carefully look at what was waiting for her behind it. She was left speechless.

She hadn’t been able to take a proper look at the Spirit before, but she was quite sure it didn’t have a shape, it was just pure light twirling in the darkness. But now, a young man sat on a rock among the trees, bending over so that she couldn’t see his face, and he was - he was tall. No, she decided after a moment, not quite tall, he was still shorter than any other man she has ever met, but still, he was more than twice the size of the other Light Spirits she saw. His entire figure was lightly shining and the only reason she could distinguish his profile was that the light wasn’t too bright. He even looked solid, and she wondered what she had felt if she had touched him. It, she corrected herself. It wasn’t really a man, of course, it was a Light Spirit who had taken on human form. She shouldn’t have considered it like one. 

Suddenly, even though no noise had broken the silence of the wood, the Spirit raised his head and looked at her, and when their eyes met she felt like her breath had been taken away. The light that shone in those green eyes was different, alive and clever, and she immediately knew that there was no way this creature was anything less than human. Different, maybe. But not less. And more than that, she had never seen any Light Spirit whose eyes were not as golden as the rest of their bodies. Was it possible? Could she have simply not looked close enough? 

His lips formed a tired smile before contracting in an expression of pain. He glanced down, breaking the eye contact and leaving Elizabeth a moment to catch her breath, her heart still pounding on her heart. This wasn’t what she expected, this was - impossible and weird and - she should have gone back now, she really should have had, now that he was distracted looking at -

Her eyes found what he was staring and at first, she couldn’t understand what was wrong in the foaming of light on his left side. It wasn’t like the rest of his body, it didn’t stay at its place but formed tendrils that extended and fell in the darkness, pouring on the ground where they shone for a moment before disappearing. She frowned, wondering why he was doing that. It looked like he was losing that light, and this couldn’t be good for a Light Spirit, could it?

Then, as she observed the urgent way he pressed his hands on his skin, trying to keep the light in, it hit her. He wasn’t doing that. The light was simply leaving his body like he was bleeding - no, he really was bleeding. He was hurt.

The Spirit inhaled sharply - he could breathe? - and looked at her again. He smiled weakly. “Well, I’m sorry to show up to you like this, but I could make use of your help, healer,” he said in the common tongue, the words feeling just a bit off like he had a very slight accent. “Would you offer it to me?” His voice was calm, confident and almost cheerful. Elizabeth liked it. Light Spirits, though, were not supposed to talk. She stared at him, terrified and fascinated at the same time, unable to think clearly. 

The spirit breathed out with difficulty, obviously in pain, but his smile didn’t disappear. “I know this is hard for you and I really shouldn’t be asking you to do this for me, but I didn’t have any other place to go.” He closed his eyes and panted, his hands twitching on his side. “Please, I can’t handle this for long.”

Elizabeth didn’t know what exactly pushed her to hurry beside him, if it was courage she didn’t know she had or her healer instinct, but in a moment she was there, kneeling at his side, her lantern placed on the ground and her hands lifted a few inches from the glowing skin of his hip, just above what she realised was a pair of trousers - she hadn’t even noticed he was wearing clothes, they were as bright as his skin. She hesitated, though, and looked at him. He seemed surprised, even impressed, as he didn’t actually expect her to come closer. She swallowed. She had the impression she was getting into something much, much bigger than what she could imagine. “Tell me what I can do,” she finally said, pushing her fear back with determination. First, she would have taken care of this man’s wound. Then, only then, she would have let herself examine this absurd situation. For now, she needed her mind free from astonishment and fear. She had a man to save. 

[runaway-horses]

Wait For Me (I’m Coming)  Part 1/2

Word Count: 5,363

A/N: Wowie this fic took so long. I was up till about 1am finishing it then putting the finishing touches on it, I y’all enjoy! This is going to be part of a bigger ‘verse, and once I recover from writing this I’ll be outlining the details of the AU. (The title is from Hadestown Wait For Me, it’s an amazing song please listen to it while reading this)  Onto the story!

Warnings: (Buckle up oof) Kidnapping, torture, fear of death, blood, whipping, minor character death, a needle is mentioned exactly once, it sounds like a lot but none of it is super graphic, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort. Heavy on the hurt but also heavy on the comfort. Please let me know if there’s anything I need to add/remove.

Tags: @pippippippin, @a-cure-for-sentience, @stormcrawler75, @princeyssash, @quoth-the-sparrow, @theresneverenoughfandoms, @queer-guineapig (I’m so sorry if I missed anyone, please let me know if you want to be added/removed!)

Next Chapter >>

~~~

Roman dropped the map he had been studying and pressed his fingers to his forehead with a groan. The letters and colors on the page were swimming before his eyes, and he pressed harder in an attempt to stave off the headache forming behind his eyes.

He looked up when he heard his tent flap swish open, announcing the arrival of a new person. Virgil was standing in the doorway one hand loosely positioned near his sword.

“Virgil,” Roman greeted.

Virgil relaxed after being acknowledged and entered the tent fully. 

“We combed the forest, no sign of anyone, sir.”

Virgil’s news wasn’t unexpected, but Roman’s heart ached anyway. He nodded and sighed tiredly.

“Thank you, captain. Get some rest, we’ll continue on in the morning.” He said, hoping his exhaustion wasn’t evident in his voice.

Virgil gave a short nod of affirmation before approaching the makeshift desk. Upon closer inspection, Virgil himself looked exhausted. Of course he was, Roman scolded himself. This ordeal had been draining on everyone involved, but Virgil was perhaps the most affected by the trauma of it all. Virgil leaned forward and squinted at the map that had been giving Roman a headache just moments before.

They had been combing the forests surrounding their kingdom for days, and every day that they came up without a lead added to the weight on Roman’s heart. Virgil knew how disheartened Roman was becoming and tried his best to keep the troops in line to ease some of his stress. He might’ve thought he was being subtle, but Roman saw it. He was filled with a sudden rush of affection for his best friend, and had to fight back tears that threatened to spill over.

He broke the silence by clearing his throat. “Patton returned about a half-hour ago. I believe he is waiting in his tent, if you’d like to see him.

Roman pretended not to notice the blush that graced Virgil’s cheekbones, and he chuckled at the soft punch to his shoulder from Virgil. But Virgil’s face quickly turned serious again. 

“Promise me you’ll get some rest, Ro. You won’t do anyone any good asleep at your desk, or sick from sleep deprivation.” Virgil’s voice was stern and reminded Roman of Patton. Perhaps the fatherly figure was rubbing off on him.

“I will, Virgil.” He said. Hoped his voice sounded reassuring.

Virgil nodded once and turned to leave. He hesitated with his hand on the flap and looked over his shoulder one last time.

“And Ro?” Roman glanced up at him. “We’re going to find him. We won’t stop until we bring Logan home.”

This time, Roman couldn’t stop the tears that welled in his eyes.

“I know, Virgil. I know.”

~~~

When Logan woke up, the first thing he was aware of was darkness. 

He was disoriented for a moment, wondering when it had gotten so dark in his room, before his memories flooded back to him. 

The blindfold, being grabbed, the needle in his neck-

He jerked and tried to move his arms, but they were securely fastened behind his back with rope. He could already feel the ache in his shoulders from the awkward position.

Unfortunately, his movement alerted whoever was in the room with him of his consciousness.

“Good, you’re awake,” He heard a voice growl. Logan tried to focus on where the voice was coming from, but it seemed to echo.

He was laying on a cold floor, and there was a blindfold over his eyes and a gag in his mouth. He tried to quelch the rising panic in his chest.

Deep breath, Logan.

He heard footsteps approaching him and tensed up in response. There was a rough hand grabbing him suddenly and yanking him up by his hair, pulling him onto his knees. Logan fought the instinct to cry out at the pain, refusing to give them the satisfaction.

“Logan Clarke, the court astrologer. A pleasure to find myself in your presence.” A cold, metallic voice to Logan’s left drawled. He couldn’t help the shiver as ice slid down his spine and froze in his veins. There was something about that voice...something familiar…

Logan gasped.

“Yes, Clarke,” The voice chuckled darkly. “We’re going to have such fun together.”

~~~

Virgil stepped out into the night, letting Roman’s tent flap swish shut behind him. The evening air was cool and carried a faint hint of orange blossoms, Spring announcing herself sooner than usual.

(Logan’s favorite time of year, but Virgil tries not to dwell on it.)

He slowly makes his way through the hastily constructed camp and, after quickly pulling off his armor and depositing it at his tent, keeps walking towards his destination. Patton’s flap is open — of course it is — and he is bent over his sheath, working oil into the leather. He looks up when he hears Virgil approaching, and the smile that graces his face lifts Virgil’s exhaustion momentarily.

Patton’s lips are warm when he presses a gentle kiss against them and Virgil can’t help but smile.

“Hello beautiful,” Patton greets, and Virgil can feel his cheeks heating up for the second time that night.

“Hey Pat,” He murmurs back. He brings a hand up to touch Patton’s cheek and allows himself a moment to admire this man.

Their relationship had gotten off to a rocky start — Virgil thought Patton was in love with Duchess Emmaline, and Patton had taken Virgil’s standoffish behavior as distaste — but they had gotten there.

(Roman will forever take credit for how it happened, and Virgil would like nothing more than to wipe that smug smirk off his best friend’s face whenever he sees the two together.)

Patton tugs on his arm and Virgil takes the hint, unbuckling his own sword, and sitting down next to him. He sat stiffly for a moment until Patton wrapped an arm around him and pulled him against his side. The warm weight of Patton’s arm coaxed Virgil into a relaxed slump against Patton.

“I’m worried, Pat.”

“I know you are, sweetheart,” Patton murmured into the top of Virgil’s head.

“I’m scared for Logan, and I’m worried for Roman.”

Virgil’s voice cracked, but Patton was kind enough not to comment on it.

“Logan’s strong, Virgil, and we are going to find him. He’ll be home before you know it, and Roman isn’t going to let our astrologer out of his sight ever again.” Here he paused to hold Virgil a little tighter. “We’re going to be fine.”

Patton’s voice held no room for doubt. He spoke with such assurance that Virgil couldn’t help but feel comforted. He snuggled a little deeper and let out a sigh. Patton was right.

He had to be.

~~~

Stupid.

Logan was so stupid. How had he not connected the information? Dietrich was the most obvious culprit behind his kidnapping. Logan's position wasn't hard to fill, but taking him away from Roman's court would undermine the stability of the entire court structure. 

Logan took a deep breath in through his nose and tried to calm his heartbeat as he heard the echoing thump of footsteps approaching his body. Rough hands pulled him up off the floor and dragged him across the cold stone to a hard chair. He was pushed down into the chair and tried not to wince when the position jostled his arms painfully. The blindfold that he was wearing was ripped off and he squinted at the dim light in the room, his eyes sensitive. 

When his vision cleared, he saw a large man standing in front of him with a wicked scowl. Logan tried to look unaffected, even as his heart jumped in his chest at the glint of metal on the man’s belt. A hand tangled in his hair and yanked his head back, forcing him to make eye contact with the man.

“Listen here, Clarke. I know your type, I know who you think you are. You think you’re better than all of us with your star charts, and your prissy robes, and your stupid little glasses. But I can tell you that all scholars are men, and all men bleed.”

The flickering candlelight caught on the edge of his blade, and Logan let out a terror-filled breath.

“I think this will humble you a bit, Master Clarke.”

~~~

The cool Spring air brushed teasingly against Roman’s face as he moved through the forest, his horse moving at a brisk trot. He didn’t dare moving faster through the dark forest, where there were tripping hazards everywhere hidden in the twisted roots of the trees. 

His mind was momentarily drawn to a memory of another time he had been on horseback

Logan’s arms around his waist as they two of them galloped through open land, Logan’s breath warm against his neck, feeling Logan’s laughter where he was pressed up against him. The pretty blush on Logan’s cheeks when Roman bowed to him and asked him for a dance, the two of them twirling through high grass, carefree and happy. Logan’s laugh, clear and loud as he threw his head back in mirth.

Roman shakes off the ghost of Logan’s arms around him and blinks away his tears. Losing himself in past memories won’t help him find Logan now. He raises a hand in signal to Virgil, and half the men separate from the group to turn left through the forest while Roman’s group moves forward, towards the mountains. 

He doesn’t want memories of love, he wants the real thing. 

And he’s going to find him.

~~~

Logan swims to consciousness and immediately wishes he hadn’t. He is made painfully aware of the aches in pains of his body, his left eye swollen shut and each breath brings a sharp pain in his side. He suspects a broken rib, and even if he can’t see them, he knows he’s covered in bruises. The metallic taste of blood is strong in his mouth.

Through the haze of pain, Logan has a faint sense of pride. He’s held up pretty well through everything, steadfastly remaining silent, and at times insolent.

(That had earned him the dull ache of pain on his thigh, where he can feel dried blood stuck to his skin.)

A part of him wonders why he holds out.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, time doesn't exist except in the spaces between visits from his captors and the blissful release from consciousness that comes after. The constant pain and isolation has made his brain fuzzy, and he often feels his coherency dripping away from him, like trying to hold water in cupped hands. It’s frightening, almost more-so than being held here by people who wish him harm.

In this moment, surrounded by darkness around and darkness within, he wants Roman more than ever. 

He has tried to keep the Prince as far away from his thoughts as possible, and though he tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to let anything slip to Dietrich or his cronies, it’s also an act of self-defense. If Logan lets his mind wander to soft touches and kind words, he doesn’t know if he will survive.

He is still trying to pull his disobedient mind away from thoughts of Roman when the thud of a door snaps him fully back into his situation. Logan swallows down the bitter taste of fear as his blindfold is pulled off, not even wincing as it catches on his hair and yanks it hard from the roots.

(Why they keep the blindfold on is a mystery to him. It’s not as if there’s any information to glean from the four dank walls of his cell. He thinks they’re playing a mind game with him, hoping the sensory deprivation might make him break sooner.

He’s afraid to admit that they might be right.)

The person who stands before him seems angry- angrier than he thinks he’s seen any of them before. The person opens their mouth as if to speak, but instead they just walk behind Logan and attaches a chain to the ones keep his wrists together. He’s yanked up to his feet and his shoulders scream at the movement. He’s prodded forward and he takes a moment as his vision blurs and he sways dangerously. He’s barely given a moment to recover before he’s shoved hard between his shoulder blades and he stumbles forward.

Logan is pushed through the door to his cell and down a winding passage way. It’s just as dark out here as it is in his cell, and momentarily Logan wonders how his guard even knows where they’re going. 

He’s steered through a doorway that opens into a larger room. There are chains hanging from the ceiling and the pit of dread in Logan’s stomach feels akin to how he imagines it would if the bottom of his stomach had suddenly fallen out. His feet freeze in their tracks without thought, and the person shoves him forward.

Logan needs to flee. He needs to run, he knows he does. This is his chance- might be the only one he has. But his brain, his damned brain, can’t grasp onto anything that’s not the ice cold fear in his veins. Besides, where would he go? He’s in no condition to run, and is surely outnumbered.

He’s still caught in the tornado of his thoughts when he’s dragged forward and his arms are pulled up, one wrist connected to the chain suspended from the ceiling. There’s a moment where his two wrists are separated for the first time since his arrival, and he knows he should struggle- rip his hand away, kick at the person, try to free his other wrist, and run. 

But he doesn’t do any of those things. Doesn’t even struggle, just lets himself be secured to the cold, unforgiving metal, even as he screams at himself to do something, anything. 

The person steps back and Logan has never felt more exposed despite being fully dressed. He hears footsteps behind him, but just drops his head and keeps his eyes shut. There’s two torches on the wall and even that sparse light his making his eyes ache. More footsteps, these coming closer. Logan doesn’t move, doesn’t even twitch, but then there a sickening crack in the room that makes his hair stand on end. A chill passes through him and he lets out a pathetic sound.

“Please don’t,” He whispers, voice hoarse from disuse. 

There a dark chuckle and Logan hears the sound of the whip trailing through his torturer’s hand. 

“You know what to say to end it all, Clarke.”

Logan keeps his mouth resolutely shut even as a tremor wracks his body.

“Okay then, this’ll be more fun for me anyway.”

The pain that rips across Logan’s back tears an inhuman scream from his mouth and he swears he can taste blood. 

“Scream all you like, no one’s coming for you.”

For the first time in his life, Logan prays.

~~~

Roman’s chest tightens and he shifts, uneasy. He feels antsy and filled to the brim with bad energy. They had stopped for the night, despite Roman’s desire to push forward. Virgil had pulled him aside with a kind, but firm denial. 

“Roman,” he had started, voice low. “The men are exhausted, and so are you. We’ve lost the light- it’s time to stop for the night.”

Roman had pushed back the anger at the suggestion he stop- it had been seventeen days, Logan was nowhere near being found, he didn’t deserve to rest while his beloved was out there, alone and in danger-

But he knew that Virgil meant well. (And Virgil was probably getting considerably more sleep than Roman, perhaps his ideas and thinking were more watertight than Roman’s own sleep deprived hypotheses.)

So he had agreed to stop for the night, but as he was untacking his horse he was gripped with the feeling that something was wrong. Or more wrong than it had been.

He had tried to shake it off as he went through the motions of setting up his tent and his pallet, but the feeling only intensified. Finally, he gives in and goes to Virgil’s tent, fully dressed and sword in hand.

“Virgil,” He whispers, russling the tent flap. After a moment, Virgil poked his head out, looking fully awake.

“Roman? What’s going on, why are you dressed?”

“Something’s wrong, Virgil. I know it is. I’m going to press forward and check in that pass that we skipped earlier.”

Virgil frowned and ducked past the flap to stand outside with Roman.

“Princey, you can’t be serious. That'd be the height of stupidity, it’s dangerous, I mean, where’s your self-preservation?” Virgil had that look in  his eyes that he got when he was exasperated, or worried. (Virgil was versatile in that he was able to be pissed off at you and protective at the same time. It’s admirable when it’s not aimed at Roman.)

“Virgil…” Roman starts, his voice trailing off as tears sprang to his eyes. He doesn’t know what to say. It’s been too long. He’s so tired, and he is so, so, scared. But he doesn’t know how to put his feelings into words. Instead, he lets tears drip down his face as he squares his shoulders and looks at Virgil. Virgil’s eyes have softened, and Roman knows that he knows.

“I’ll wake up my men and meet you there,” He says, giving Roman’s arm a squeeze before ducking back into his tent. Roman lets out a shaky breath and drags a hand through his hair. He owes Virgil at least a month off after all of this. (Patton too, of course.)

But first, they have to find Logan.

So Roman strides through tents towards where he knows his horse is and in minutes, he’s moving through the darkness of the forest with one person in mind.

~~~

Logan is jerked to awareness and he doesn’t even realize the muttering that he’s hearing is his own. 

“Please, God, someone-anyone, just make it stop.”

A scream falls from his lips in a tired way, as if his body is trying to expel the pain vocally but is too tired to do it properly.

“Not quite ready to sing, little birdy?” The voice is cruel and mocking and Logan has never hated another human being more. “That’s ok, I’m a very patient person.”

Bile rises in Logan’s throat, burning his throat and he coughs, blood dribbling out. He pushes the weak and crumbling mental walls he’s built around his mind, steeling himself as best he can.

But then he hears the sickening sound of the leather whistling through the air as the person gives it a test swing; and Logan breaks. 

“Stop!”

Time seems to freeze, and Logan can practically hear the malicious smile that spreads across his torturer’s face. Each breath hurts as Logan gasps and his chest heaves deeply, dread turning the air to lead.

“Do you have something you’d like to say, Clarke?”

Yes. Curse you, you bastard. Curse you and your family for generations to come.

Logan licks his lips before speaking, the words spilling from him, desperate. Anything, anything to make it stop. “There’s discord, among the western noblemen. There’s been talk of a revolution, Roman’s been keeping it under wraps to keep support away from them.”

Fingers, wrapping in his hair tightly. “Keep talking.” Their breath is rancid where it washes across his face and Logan struggles not to gag.

“The King is old and growing ill, he’s not as healthy as we have people believe. The Prince may be rising to King sooner.” Fear clogs his throat as the fingers tighten infinitesimally in his hair, prompting him to speak further. 

“The royal coffers run low, food is scarce, and the Prince is attempting to restructure the court system which means it’s unstable at the moment. Suspicion is everywhere.” Logan is running out of words, for the first time in his life, he doesn’t know what to say. A loud crack rings through the room as their hand connects with Logan’s face.

“These are breadcrumbs, Clarke. You think this isn’t information we didn’t already know, or couldn’t glean ourselves? I should kill you now for your insolence.”

Fear is a heavy thing, dark. It sinks into your lungs, fills your veins and heart with black tar. It is visceral, and terrifying. If they’re lucky, most people go their entire life without feeling this type of fear. Logan has experienced this type of fear twice before in his life, first as a child when his  home burned down around him and he got trapped in the wreckage, the smoke filling his lungs and settling in next to the fear. The second time was as a teenager, when Virgil was enlisted in the King’s Guard, and then disappeared for seven months. 

Logan Clarke did not believe he was afraid of dying. But in this moment, with the danger so near and terrifyingly real, he realizes he is.

Logan Clarke also did not believe he was a traitor.

But he finds that secrets spill from his lips without his intention, damn preservational instincts loosening his lips and baring secrets of the Kingdom of Allura to this person to share with whomever they desire. When the last of the words are wrung from him, he feels like a sponge that’s had all the water squeezed out of it. 

Silence rings through the room (blasted silence- Logan’s thinks he’s had enough of it to last a lifetime.)

(If a world of only silence existed for him, however, that meant he wouldn’t die at the hands of this madman, then he knows he would take it in a heartbeat.)

“Thank you, Clarke, I do believe Dietrich will find this most...enlightening.” 

Logan’s heart has migrated to his throat, and he has never felt more defeated. His eyes are steadfastly trained on the floor as the person speaks, a slight haze overtaking his mind.

“-I do believe it’ll just be better if I kill you now.”

Panic is fear, just a little to the left. Panic claws at Logan’s insides, a wild thing that is trying to free itself from his insides.

“No, wait, wait!” His voice does not sound his own and he thrashes in his bonds, twisting away from the person.

“Oh calm down, maybe it won’t even hurt. I wouldn’t know, I’ve never died. Think of it like a scientific adventure.”

The person tightens Logan’s chains, pulling his arms up and together and forcing him to look at them.

“I want you to look at me, and know that this is the last face you’ll see before you die.”

The person grips Logan’s jaw tight enough to bruise and brings his face right in front of them. They lick their lips and smile, wickedly, the panic has seized Logan’s chest and he wonders if dying will hurt when-

“Get your hands off him!” 

Roman’s voice is loud and drenched in anger. The person lets go of Logan’s face and Logan falls, arms jerking against the chains. He drops his head down, too tired to hold it up. He wonders if he has, in fact, died, and his mind has offered up the voice of the one person he wants to see most in the world as some sort of penance for the suffering he’s endured in the last few days.

There’s noise, somewhere in front of him. Consciousness fades in and out, a haze. (He’s scared to look up, scared to lift his eyes and see blank space instead of Roman. So he lets his eyes slip shut and the sound fade away from him.)

But then.

Then gentle hands cup his face, the smell of orange and smoke fills his nostrils, and he presses into the familiar touch.

“My love? Logan, dearest, can you hear me?” 

Relief washes over Logan, so strong that he loses his breath and his eyes fill with tears, spilling down his face and over Roman’s hands. His touch is real, it must be. He could never imagine a touch this gentle, words so soft, not in a lifetime.

“Logan?” The gentle murmur again, a panicked undertone barely hidden in those two syllables.

Logan nods as best he can, sucking in a gasp. 

“Oh, dearest, I’m here. I’m here, love.” Roman’s hands are warm and he gently thumbs away Logan’s tears. Logan can feel his arms going numb and his shoulders are burning fiercely as he stands, suspended. He makes a sound that could be mistaken for a whimper by someone less proud than Logan as he tries to relieve the pressure on them. Roman must notice his squirming because he runs a soothing hand through his hair. 

“I’ll get you down Logan, I promise.” Roman steps away from his body, leaving Logan alone. The fear returns immediately and Logan’s eyes fly open, a strangled sound coming from his throat. His vision is fuzzy but he makes out the outline of Roman in front of him.

“Shh Logan, I’m right here, dearheart.” Roman’s touch is back, a grounding presence on his skin. “I’m going to try to get your wrists out of these shackles, ok?” Roman waits for his nod of affirmation before walking around Logan to get a better look at this shackles. There’s a sudden rain of curse words behind Logan as Roman lays eyes on his flayed back.

“Oh Logan…” Roman’s voice trails off into choked silence and his despair is palpable. Logan doesn’t know what he sees, but he knows it’s quite bad, if the pain is any indication. The pain on Logan’s back is like fire, he knows. He is pushing the pain into a box, under a table, in a dark corner of his mind, because he cannot miss this, this moment with Roman. Roman is water, and Logan has been stranded in the desert for days. Fingers wrap around his wrist and Logan focuses in on that sensation. There’s some clicking as muttering as Roman fiddles with the mechanism before he swears and steps away, fingers uncurling. Logan hears him shuffling around behind him, but can’t see anything.

He hears a click and the metal around his wrist loosens,  Roman’s hand gently holding his as he eases it out of the shackle. He lets out a sympathetic hiss at the sight of Logan’s chafed skin. He repeats this with the other wrist and Logan collapses like a marionette with its strings cut. Roman swears and kneels in front of him, easing him up onto his heels.

Logan is able to look right into Roman’s eyes -oh, how he’s missed those beautiful eyes- and the guilt comes rushing back. “R-ro,” He manages, and it feels like he’s been gargling glass. “I told them, I told them so much. I’m so sorry, I didn’t-I couldn’t stop myself.” Roman’s eyes are concerned as he runs a gentle hand through Logan’s hair.

“Shh, love, it’s okay. Oh dearheart, I’m not mad or upset, you’ve been through so much, I don’t care about anything you might have told them.”

“But-”

“No, no ‘but’s. There’s nothing you could say that would make me angry at you, just more upset at those bastards for harming you.”

Logan wants to object, to explain everything he said and why really, Roman should be concerned, but Roman is here. He’s here and running his fingers through his hair in that way he always did, and whatever has been keeping him going throughout all of this cuts out. He pitches forward into Roman’s arms, and his last thought before he falls unconscious is that the nightmare has finally ended.

~~~

Roman is momentarily filled with panic when Logan falls forward into his arms, but after a moment he realizes that he isn’t dead, just unconscious. He adjusts him so he’s laying in his lap without putting any pressure on his back and his heart squeezes at the sight of the bright red gashes. 

When he had stumbled across the crevice in the mountain hours earlier, he had almost continued past it. Only a faint glow that resembled torchlight had him investigating the cave, and deep inside he had found a group of men, all sitting around a fire, clearly intoxicated. Only the drunken exclamation of one of the men- “That son of a bitch Clarke down there.” had Roman pulling out his sword and cornering the men, demanding an explanation. It was only once Roman had entered the cave system that it occurred to him that he should have left one of the men alive to lead him through the twisting rock. So Roman had wandered through the cavern by himself, praying that he didn’t get lost as he searched for Logan.

He had been close to giving up when his eyes caught the flicker of a torch down a cave and he followed it right to a scene straight out of his nightmares.

Logan, strung up by his arms like an animal, fear written in every line of his body, and a knife in a person’s hand, aimed straight at his beloved’s throat-

“Get your hands off him!” 

They drop Logan’s head and turn to Roman, confusion and anger on their face. Roman doesn’t even think, just jumps the person, sword out. They’re talented, and if this were any other situation Roman may have met his match. But he’s fueled by a blinding cocktail of rage and fear and love, and the person is a limp body on the floor in minutes. Roman stands over them for a moment and his pulled back to the present by a slight whimper behind him. He discards his sword with a clatter and rushes to Logan, kneeling before him and cupping his face.

“My love?” Roman keeps his voice soft and his touches softer as he talks to Logan and takes stock of his injuries. When he stands to free his wrists, Logan makes a noise in the back of his throat that Roman quickly decides he never wants to hear again. 

The anger washes over him again at the sight of Logan’s mangled back, and again when Logan’s eyes gaze into his own -The spark in his eyes has been snuffed out and his gaze is distant- and Logan apologizes for giving up information to the people who tortured it out of him. 

Roman is still running his fingers through Logan’s hair now, and he wonders how he’ll get Logan out of here without hurting him more. His horse is tied outside the cave and he hopes that Virgil saw it and waited outside the cave for Roman’s return, but he doesn’t know how he could carry Logan out of here. 

With a whispered apology to Logan, he shifts him around and lifts him up, one arm under his knees and the other cradling Logan to him as best he can without touching his back. Logan doesn’t even stir. 

Satisfied that his grip is secure, Roman ducks out of the room, leaving behind his sword and a body. 

The journey out is difficult with the added weight of Logan in his arms (although it can barely be considered weight, Logan feels feather light in his arms and Roman can feel his ribs pressing prominently against his hand.) There’s a moment where Roman’s foot catches on a loose stone and he slips, almost falling backwards. He steadies at the last moment, but the experience has him holding Logan tighter and moving with more care. 

Finally, finally, he finds himself back in the large cave where he had encountered the men. The fire has burned down to embers, and Roman is glad that Logan isn’t awake to see the bodies strewn about. He pushes past the bodies and walks straight towards the small opening in the rock that he had entered earlier. 

The night is clear and the air tastes sweet after the dirty, stale air of the caves. Roman breathes deeply and sinks down against the rocky side of the mountain. He sets Logan securely against him and presses a kiss to his dirty hair, finally able to breathe again with Logan in his arms.

Next Chapter >>

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New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/acceleration-of-polarity/

Acceleration of Polarity

Acceleration of Polarity

By A Gift From Gaia

Energetic Navigation – FULLY LOADED

Did someone hit the acceleration button for polarity? Has gravity been turned off? This energy is beyond magical, super intense, super exquisite and I’m witnessing cosmic surfers reach off the charts high waves! IN-CRED-IBLE

High waves are most definitely what we are experiencing, super charged photonic light from the cosmic rays has been pouring through, however we are now due some Solar Winds to bring forward some more action energy, some more super movement for the new codes we have been storing within our DNA to be activated. Protons are currently raising which tells us our magnetosphere is charging so many of the super sensitives will begin to feel the shift now, the prediction is for a G1 storm which is likely to take folk deep within or deep OUT, this will simply depend on how many of those sand bags, those weighted timelines you are prepared to cut away, but DEEP is most definitely the word that springs to mind.

The acceleration of polarity is making itself known within the collective, a divide, something resembling the Grand Canyon is appearing in the 4th frequency, folk dancing with ego and choosing to experience the depths of their minds creations, returning to outdated experiences to realise the attachment programming, where they do not value LIGHT, where they do not value love which ultimately is a lesson in Self Love, the trouble with the 4th frequency is there is an expanded awareness somewhat, which holds responsibility in which the soul will be pushing for those to experience, a guiding light onto the path of the heart where we experience the ultimate heart awakening and begin living as Soul on Earth in Flesh. Yet on the other end of the spectrum there are the cosmic surfers, those who have moved through the 5th portal and there have been a number who have come through are finding the new space of peace, joy and abundant everything like living the dream, clear minds, open hearts and very comfortable in the zero point space where everything begins to move, what this does, energetically speaking is creates acceleration for all, for the entire collective as the cosmic surfers stretch out the bandwidth with their rapid expansion, those anchored in the 3rd dimension of blind bliss, the matrix makers who act like busy little worker ants, securing and building pointlessly hold the old earth frequency in place (for now) which stretches out the 4th frequency so that ALL may be SEEN and more can move from their mind awakened state into their heart awakening, and this is the space in which we see the quickening taking place, everything is pulled, twisted and stretched to the maximum in order for all to be Seen.

Not all are yet able or willing to enter the pain barriers, not all are able to see that behind that smoke screen of what they believe to be true, exists a whole new world designed with the codes of the 5th frequency, that of unconditional love, those who have been surfing the lower aspects of the 4th realm often bounce back into their sleepy space to continue their addiction of chasing the happy dragon, an addiction that this race has been running out for aeons, a false belief that happiness is like a pill, we receive it in small doses when we have been good, our parents and our parents, parents trained us well to believe that happiness isn’t a stable frequency – more blind lies.

I am sure it wont be long before those choosing the old, to go back, start using that word “SORRY” and if you hear it, if you experience the “jumpers” humbly returning, then please remember a sorry is a changed behaviour ONLY and perhaps give a reminder that there is no need to apologise or explain to the out there world, but to realise those words need to be redirected within, for their own Self to feel forgiveness of the highest order.

If you find yourself teetering on the edge of a timeline, if you haven’t quite jumped yet then take some advice……

DON’T GO BACK

Not even with a little extra awareness, not even with a safety plan, not even with a guide…..how much more of the SAME do you need to see, it becomes self sacrificing and trust me when I say, as we now move ever closer to the great conjunction in January, going back is going to feel like suicide, that’s one heck of a ego death you are choosing, however perhaps it is needed, perhaps to connect with the heart the entire world needs to snap in half to be able to see the core.

In order to release these attachments, in order to snap the back of duality it really is a case of doing the opposite and from here observing the fallout, which will highlight the anchors that held you in so tightly, for you to begin dissecting and breaking down the old codes.

Now enough of the old world HOW ABOUT THE NEW!

Goodness me its been quite a wave, cosmic surfers, those chasing the waves out front are expanding in their amazingness and experiencing realities that are now feeling so spacious, everything forming, aligning as the focus purely now goes onto the physical vessel and the realisation comes in that in order to CARRY on the experience MORE must be given to the physical body. New exercise routines, new diets, new ways of living consciously, tweaks and turns to improve the ability to hold and carry this light begins and light bodies begin to come online in the higher frequencies that attract the Soulstyle life we are to experience. Everything becomes simple, there are no requirements to push, to exert energy in fields not along the path, to seek, to correct, to debate or to state, its just simple, its easy and it all comes home to YOU.

Home is where the heart is after all…..

Todays energy brings some beautiful harmonies for us to play in, the moon makes a number of trines so I will give a brief explanation.

Moon trine Juno, well Juno is really coming into play now as the Sun, Venus and Mars play around this little gem in our sky. Juno represents commitment, partnerships and if I continue lots of things that create attachment out there in the timelines of realities so I would like to quickly invert this, commitment to Source (being you, and All), the partnership or the union of the masculine and feminine within YOU, lets entirely release this out there stuff, everything is reflective of the internal vibration, so as we know, by making the adjustments within and by holding a love frequency we attract realities aligned, lets keep the focus entirely on Self expansion…

So as we know the Sun, Mars and Venus are about to conjunct with Juno who requests the union, the balance, the harmony between the masculine and feminine within. The Moons trine today feels somewhat like a preparation so whilst in some octaves they will be experiencing the emotional streams of realising what is out of whack, this is ultimately preparing you for the meet just hours away, tomorrow the sun conjuncts Juno and they begin entering the frequency of Regulus, this trine could work like a little trickster, as we know trines are harmonious so it may be easy to drift into the false beliefs as the trine makes this soft, its easy to MANIPULATE through the false kindness, the relief that this moment is more comfortable, that “they” are being reasonable “today” BUT and we love big BUTS this is likely to give a lesson for you to look deeper into the truth, the agenda and the subconscious drivers as this trine energy could well be flipped on its head and the TRUTH, the behaviour rears its head again as we move into this Virgo party now about to happen, like walking into a party dressed in fancy dress but the invite clearly stated casual dress, not paying attention? THINK you know better? Like dancing with illusions? LIGHTS ON, you will feel the spotlight.

Those of open heart will feel this super nurturing energy, expanding on the already established equilibrium, moon trine juno is a get out in nature day, it’s a day to play with the magic, to create something from the heart, a stream of purity to play in.

Moon trine Venus echoes this, open the heart, come back home, kick off those shoes and dance barefoot to the harmony of Earth, this holds some super relaxed tones to again get creative, enjoy some leisure time and nurture Self just that whole lot more. Its an energy to practice the affirmation of SOFT, tone everything down, walk softly, touch softly, speak softly and through this focus it will be super easy to spot the harshness….FOR you to then realign and deal with in order to continue the these divine experiences.

Moon trine Pholus gives new direction, new coordinates are being seeded and there are glimpses, day dreaming, feeling into what the new timeline will be like, this can make folk feel a little ungrounded however it is up in the heights that we receive the most amazing dreams and from here it is your role, as ground control to begin planting them in the fertile soil of reality.

Whereas Pholus now also trine to Venus brings in a huge amount of heart vibration, a huge influx of feel to direct the inner masculine into a space of Deal as we listen to the whispers from within. This also could play out in the reality as a female bringing assistance or perhaps a new perspective for you to see and change course…..watch out for angels in female form, these changes will be long lasting.

Moon trine Mars creates that harmony I just mentioned with the venus pholus transit, this feels like a compliant masculine energy that is ready and able to take direction from that internal feminine whisper. Confidence increases, an inner knowing that it is exactly right to follow the heart, and it feels safe, comfortable and aligned……because it is!

Mercury trine Jupiter gives an expansion on the data we are currently receiving, MORE, MORE and MORE we scream when tuned into the hearts requests however the lower octaves can experience a lot of mind junk bubbling up to the surface, things can get noisy and the most perfect way to begin un-muddling the muddle is to journal it all out, spend time (self love) removing the noise from the mind and get it on paper, start the evaluations, start seeing what is conscious and what is unconscious, the chances are everything that is loud is simply unconscious and really needs a data dump, get it on paper and hold a little ritual of burning it, purifying it out.

Moon will be moving through a conjunction with Uranus today, more direction changes to be expected, the Moon is currently at 0 degrees and Uranus at 6 degrees Taurus, so this charged moon with its aspects today is really getting down and dirty in the foundational spaces of you, demanding that all old emotions are released, like a clear up as she begins her task of dissolving what no longer allows the structure, the foundation to hold securely. This may reflect in your patterns in terms of self love, cosmic surfers will no doubt be pulled towards making changes in diet, exercise and aligning their way, their habits to a more light aligned way, those in the lower octaves generally look at the relationships, the attachments and when Uranus is in play we often see a lot of reactive activity, which creates somewhat surprise revelations, in order to shift direction. Sudden roadblocks tend to appear, emotionally charged to highlight this road is now fully closed.

All in all it appears the collective have some huge opportunities to shift in a completely new direction, and if this solar wind appears this will assist no end, changes are here for the picking.

You only need choose………do you choose the light of your Soul, do you choose Source, do you choose unconditional everything and to be a part of creating the new world

Or do you choose the stress, anxiety filled and cyclic patterns of the people program.

*****

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[ghostimoth]

Hello! May I please request a scenario of Aoyama teaching reader how to waltz? Thank you!

Okay this was a really cute request, I just hope I wrote Aoyama correctly. As much as I loved my underrated children, he is a hard one to grasp cause, on one hand, he’s got a bit of an ego and is super outgoing, but on the other hand, he’s just an insecure lil baby who needs reassurance.

You let out a groan of defeat, your head hitting the table you sat at. The other 6 girls around you looked at you in worry.

“(Y/N)-chan, what’s wrong?” Uraraka asked, poking your shoulder lightly.

“This.” You answered back, your voice muffled due to the table. Your phone was slid over to the middle of the table where everyone huddled over it to read the messages.

“You’re going…” Jirou muttered, “to a family ball?” You nodded to her statement, your head still connected to the table.

“What’s so bad about that though?” Uraraka thought out loud.

Bolting up form your hunched position, you slapped the table with enough force to shake it and everything on it, even knocking off a textbook. “Everything!” You exclaimed. “This is a ball from my dad’s side of the family! I’ve barely talked with them, much less seen them! So I have no idea how to interact with them or the rich and very important and powerful people they’re inviting! Once they find out that my dad hasn’t taught me anything about being a “rich” and “sophisticated” family, they’ll disown him!”

You slumped onto the table once again, giving into defeat. “But (Y/N)-chan, isn’t your family already pretty rich?” Mina asked innocently.

Forcing yourself up, you nodded. “Yeah, but after meeting my mom, my dad’s never seen the need for all the manners and stuff.”

“So you have the money, but not the mannerisms?” Tsuyu asked, holding her finger up to her lip.

“Yeah basically.”

“Well, I can teach you!” Momo exclaimed. You blinked at her in confusion.

“The hell does that mean?” You asked.

Momo sighed, but a small smile graced her lips nonetheless. Standing up from her seat across the table, she walked over to you. “For one, high-class families don’t slouch.” One of her hands locked itself on your shoulder and the other one pushed your lower back in, making your previously hunched shoulders now straight. “Keep your back straight and chin up high to show confidence and class.” She instructed.

You blinked up at her, finding her explanations detailed and sensible, two things you thought your father’s side of the family was the complete opposite of.

From that exact moment, Momo took you under her wing to show you the ins and outs of how rich families should act in public and in the presence of other equally and more powerful than them.

You learned how to walk, talk, eat, and sit as if you were a 5-year-old once again. Luckily you picked it up really quickly, whether that was form Momo’s clear explanations or because you were just that smart, you were sure, but your humbleness made you choose the former.

However, there was one thing that you could not learn to save your life. A dance so simple yet important that even a 3-year-old could do it. And that was the waltz. No matter how you did it or how Momo explained it, your feet just kept tumbling and tripping over each other. At one point you made you and Momo fall onto the floor.

You sighed in defeat, sitting down on the gym floor with shame. “Maybe it’s best if we take a break for today,” Momo said out loud.

You nodded in agreement. “Ugh, I don’t know Momo. I don’t think I’ll ever pick it up.”

Momo shook her head. “Don’t say that! You’ll learn it in no time. It’s just taking a bit for you to understand it. You just need to take a break.”

Not wanting to defend your deflating self-esteem, you just nodded at her words and let her leave the gym so you could wallow in your self pity. You sat there with your head in between your legs for god knows how long in silence until the sound of footsteps met your ears.

You let out a sigh. “I’ll come back to the dorms in a bit Momo.”

The person clicked their tongue. “Now, now ma Cherie!” A familiar voice chirped in.

Your head whipped up as fast as humanly possible, your cheeks heating up at the sight of Aoyama Yuuga, a boy you had become very close with the past couple months.

You stumbled up off of the ground and dust your legs off of dust that had stuck to your slightly sweaty legs. Looking back up, you gave the blond a shy smile.

“Hi Aoyama-kun! Wh-what are you doing here?” You asked, your voice cracking in embarrassment.

“Well, I wanted to see what you were doing of course!” Aoyama declared, pointing at you in exaggeration.

You could feel your cheeks heating up even further at his actions. “God, why does he have to be like this?!” You internally screamed, your muscles tightening.

You rubbed the back of your neck nervously. “Well, I’m not doing much as you can see.”

“Well, then why have you and Yao-momo been coming to this gym for the past week or so?” Aoyama further question, pulling out some evidence of your endeavors.

The floor suddenly became much more interesting than anything in the room. “I um… my family’s going to this important ball and I have to learn how to waltz, but I’m utterly failing.” You confessed shyly.

Aoyama hummed. “Well how about I try to teach you?” He proposed.

You glanced up at him. “What? Really? But even Momo can’t teach me-“

“Oh hush Ma Cherie! Sometimes a different teacher is all you need! Now come here.” Aoyama exclaimed, grabbing your hand he lead you to the center of the gym.

It seemed as if all air left your lungs and your heart stopped beating as he pulled you closer to him. Although you were only in a pair of running shorts and a loose t-shirt, the room felt very, very hot all of a sudden.

One of his hands clasped around your waist while the other held onto yours with a tight grip. Knowing where to put your free hand, you let yourself grab onto his shoulder with a shaky hand.

“There you go, Ma Cherie! It seems you already know the basics of dance!”

You couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your lips at his exaggeration. But then, he suddenly began moving.

“W-wait!” You exclaimed, tumbling after him. However, the blond continued to move.

“Just move with me, Ma Cherie! Don’t think about it, just follow my steps.” He explained, not taking a second to stop.

Taking a deep breath, you followed his advice and followed his steps, your gaze never leaving his feet. After a couple minutes of tumbling and tripping, you were finally able to follow his moves.

“What a great job! Now, look up at me.” Aoyama said, startling you.

“Wh-what?!” You asked, looking up into his silly eyes.

He smiled down at you. “Look at you, following everything I say!”

You couldn’t help your cheeks from heating up in embarrassment at the very thought of how lewd that phrase could be, making you trip on your own two feet. Falling forward, you expected to meet the hardness of the floor. But you never did.

Instead, you hit a soft and warm mass. Blinking your eyes open, you realized that Aoyama had caught you without a second thought. His cheeks were tinged with pink and his mouth was slightly open as if he was about to tell you something before you fell.

Pushing off of him, you rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment.

“I um…wow!” You muttered. “I’ve never been that good with Momo.” You explained shyly.

“Why of course! I do see myself as a waltz master.” Aoyama boasted. “It’s a dance perfect for a dazzling fellow like me.”

You chuckled. “Guess that’s why I couldn’t do it at first.” Aoyama tilted his head in confusion at your little joke. “Cause I’m not as dazzling or amazing as you.” You explained, making the blond blush.

He cleared his throat. “Well anyone can be as dazzling and a-amazing as me! All it takes is a good partner is all.”

Your fingers fidgeted with each other as you stood in silence, thoughts running through your mind.

“Um, you know… I don’t have anyone to go to the family ball with… so if you’re free next Saturday… do you want to go with me and be my partner?” You asked nervously.

“WHAT AM I DOING?” You yelled at yourself as you smiled at Aoyama without falter, waiting for his answer. “OF COURSE HE’S GOING TO SAY N-“

“I would be delighted.”

“Huh?” You blinked at him. Now it was your turn to be confused.

Aoyama smiled. “I said, I would be delighted. To go with you I mean.”

[irondevilpunisher]

A Saved Dance

Karedevil One-shot

Premise: AU in which anguished teenage Matt Murdock finds himself in Vermont and unexpectedly bonds with a girl he saves named Karen Page. 

****

Vermont, it seemed like a good idea at the time. These days Matt Murdock was looking for places to escape. Forget the past. Forget all about the pain entwined with his father’s death and Stick abandoning him. And especially avoid his irritating anomalies thanks to that freak accident when he was ten. Giving him unique heightened senses which only further alienated him from the rest of the world. Matt just didn’t want to deal with it anymore nor stay in New York. Too many memories and harsh realities. And Matt was sick of everyone’s pity over his blindness which never held him back from his academic achievements and his ability to fight like a ninja warrior. 

But no matter what he did to fill that void of loneliness, reading, training at his father’s gym, running on rooftops or attending mass at his Catholic church; none of it helped. The only thing Matt could think of at the time was...taking his saved allowance, leaving the orphanage he’d been staying at for six years and hopping the Greyhound out of Hell’s Kitchen. Careful to deflect suspicion that he was a runaway. A skill that came in quite handy during Stick’s teachings. If he could successfully block out nightmares, slept most the way. Never did Matt imagine winding up in Vermont of all places though. It wasn’t even his first choice of destination. 

He couldn’t see it the way everyone else did but he did sense its exquisite hi-def details. This place was so much quieter than the noisy filled streets he was used to back in New York. Calmer and more serene despite detecting cows mooing in the distance. Crisp autumn air, maple trees mixed with fresh baked pumpkin pies filled Matt’s lungs whenever he breathed, painting the picture of a humble little farming community. It was peaceful here but Matt had to admit combing the sidewalk with his cane and backpack slung over his shoulder, he missed the darkness he felt back in Hell’s Kitchen. It was easier to be discreet from casual observers whenever he did his rooftop routines. Easier to be alone. 

“Hey stop it!” He suddenly heard a girl’s voice cry out in peril. “Give that back!”

Matt had been stalking around town all afternoon until twilight, finding himself parked in front of a chain-linked fence to what he sensed was a school. And judging by the rowdy pop music blasting from building at this late hour, some festivities were taking place. Possibly a themed dance. Not really his scene though he’d never actually been to one and couldn’t help feeling at little curious at the time. That changed the second he heard her voice calling for help, provoking Matt to jump the fence like a super athlete and charging in the direction of the three young assailants.  

They were around the corner of the school building,he picked up sounds of fiendish chortles and chatter among the boys. Matt figured this girl’s harassers had stolen something pretty valuable, a hair clip, childishly tossing it back and forth while she attempted to retrieve it. That didn’t go so well. She was pushed down on the ground with a loud THUD! At that moment Matt intervened. 

“Hey!” Matt barbed, tightly grasping his cane. “I think you better leave her alone.”

“Oh and who’s gonna make us?” jeered one of the boys. Matt could tell he was taller and a little bit older than him. Built like a football player. In between taunts the bully paused and Matt’s brows furrowed. Practically feeling this kid’s gawking eyeballs on his white cane. “I’m not into hitting cripples Dude, so take a hike.”

Matt firmly stood his ground. These boys didn’t intimidate him. “Not until you return this girl’s property. Then I’ll leave.”

“Last warning chump, get out of here!”

“You heard what he said this has nothing to do with you!” spat another boy.

“Like I said,” Matt taunted with a dark smirk. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He could hear hands closing into lethal fists. These’s boys were looking to mess with him. “Then I guess it’s your funeral.” One of them growled.

Normally Matt hated getting involved in random altercations, it went against his personal morals but for some reason he just couldn’t ignore this. He could’ve easily taken the high road and just verbally persuaded them to do the right thing. Wouldn’t have had to resort to humiliating these punks; effortlessly countering all their assaults, blocking oncoming punches and reversing each attack impressively with his own. Occasionally using his cane as a weapon. Left, right, he repeated the steps in his mind; maneuvering with the agile and speed of a gymnast. Nonetheless Matt’s intentions weren’t to hurt these boys yet he couldn’t deny the satisfaction it was giving him. 

“So do you feel like returning this girl’s property now?” Matt snarled breathlessly, gripping the main boy’s elbow into a backwards hold as the other two kids groaned in pain. “Or do I have to snap your arm?”

“F-FINE! Fine I’ll do it!” he whimpered. “Just don’t hurt me anymore man!”

“Good answer.”

Releasing the punk, he stayed true to his word handing the girl’s hair clip to Matt then he and his buddies resumed to limping off their shame. Matt chuckled in his throat wiping off some blood residue from his mouth, listening as their scurrying footprints faded into a deafening silence. He was alone again...isolated as he’d liked it...well except for a delicate yet rapid beating chest not belonging to him. 

“Its alright.” He reassured. “You don’t have to be afraid. They’re gone.”

As Matt went to retrieve his cane off the grass, a sweet voice so weightless like a dove’s feather tickled his ear.

“Thank you.” She said. Matt could’ve sworn his heart stopped and was now in the presence of an angel as vanilla soap and apple permeated his nostrils. Her voice was so pure it shone light through the pitch-blackness. And there was something oddly soothing about this girl’s presence while she slowly approached. “I didn’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t...Timmy and those guys are such jerks.”

Exhaling he nearly forgot to breathe in his response. “Are you okay?”

“Better...now.” Matt didn’t have to assume she nodded saying this. From what he could tell she was two years younger than him, at least thirteen or fourteen yet carried herself quite mature for most girls her age. “Haven’t seen you around town before. You just move here with your folks?”

“Uh..no.” He swallowed bowing his head. “I’m just passing through.”

Strangely enough the girl didn’t press him. “Yah I know the feeling.”

“You do?”

“I feel like escaping sometimes myself.” Said the girl. Just as he thought the conversation would end there she asked. “H-how did you do that anyway?”

Matt was taken aback. “Do what?” Throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

“Where did you learn those moves? That was amazing.”

“Secret.” he grinned handing over the hair clip which she took. No way he was ever going to tell her the blind old man who trained him like an assassin. “I think this belongs to you.”  

“Yah its...it was my mom’s.” she confessed, voice going somber as he heard her fingers sweep through her long blond locks. “I wanted to wear it for the dance tonight. Didn’t expect Timmy Atkins to just rip it out of my hair and play hot potato with it.”

Matt perked up. “So you are at a dance.” He guessed right after all. “I figured as much. Seemed a little late for school to be in session.”

The girl laughed politely. 

“Oh I definitely think its way past that.” Then she held out her hand. “I’m Karen.”

“Matt.” He reciprocated the handshake gesture.Touch of her skin was soft and warm like silk he didn’t want to let go.Then again it was getting late and he needed to find a place to crash for a while. “Well...I guess I better be going.”

“Wait!” Karen called after him as he turned to leave. “You don’t have to leave. Why don’t you stay, we could...go back into the dance?”

“Nah its not really my thing.” Matt faltered. “Besides I don’t even go to your school and you just met me.”

“Oh...right.”

Matt didn’t need sight to detect the whiff of disappointment in her vocal cords and the beating of her heart. Karen let out a melancholy sigh which in turn prompt him to change his mind. Sure this whole thing seemed a little awkward and he preferred his isolation but for some reason he enjoyed her company.    

“I...guess I could stick around a little longer.”

Karen’s body temperature rose delightedly. “Really?”

“Sure why not. I’ve got nothing better to do” Matt verified, balancing his weight on the cane. “What do you suggest?”

“We could...walk over to the gazebo in the garden and talk?” Karen proposed.

“Okay.”

Offering to take his hand, Karen led Matt through the grass back onto the gravel path towards the back of the building. Careful not to trip on her pale blue dress. At first neither of them knew what to say then a conversation started forming. Karen told Matt all about her life in Vermont. Informing him of her friends at school and some of her hobbies. Matt on the other hand was a little hesitant sharing parts of himself in the beginning. When she finally asked about his disability, omitting certain details like his heightened senses, he would explain how he saw things from a different perspective. 

He noticed the way she would marvel at him curiously, listening to his voice. It was flattering. Matt felt he’d made his first sincere connection with another person. And it was mutual for Karen. Arriving at the gazebo they sat down on the bench together. However Matt’s heart sank wishing he could see this place the way she did. A magnificent pavilion structure, octagonal shaped arches with dozes of flowers spilling around it according to Karen’s description. Sucking up the sweet aroma Matt depicted the scent of stonecrops, yarrow and daises. The smell of Autumn his favorite season. 

When the evening got chillier Matt offered his flannel shirt to Karen. If he'd thought of wearing a jacket he would've preferred to give her that.

“So...where are you going?” Karen queried spontaneously. 

Matt turned to her with a baffled expression. “What?” 

“You’re carrying around that backpack full of stuff.” she noticed him gripping the bag under one arm. “You must be going someplace.”

He froze and Karen realized she’d gotten too evasive. 

“Sorry I didn’t meant to pry.”

“No its fine.” he said uncertainly. “I guess I just...needed to get away for awhile.”

“From your family?”

Matt’s lips tightened in a straight line.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Karen assured him. Then she hugged her knees to her chest. “Sometimes I wanna disappear to a private island. I use to write stories about it all the time.”

Matt’s head poignantly ticked. “You did?”

“Yah, I really want to be a writer someday. What about you?”

“I going to be lawyer.” he replied confidently, it was the one thing he was sure about. “I’ve been reading law books since I was ten. It’s all I’ve wanted to do.”

“That’s great! I’m sure you’d be good at that.”

“How so?” Matt laughed. “We only just met.”

“Its just a feeling I get...when I’m around you.” Karen smiled gently bumping her shoulder into his. Before she had the chance to say something further a slow song interrupted the calm atmosphere, pouring from outdoor speakers of the school. It was doleful in melody, almost depressing yet Matt knew it. Hearing it once on the radio back at the orphanage. Everything by Lifehouse. “I like this song.” 

“It’s okay.” Matt half shrugged.

Then he felt Karen’s body brush passed him as she climbed to her feet.

“Want to dance?” she asked holding out her hand.

His tongue tied. “What right now?” 

“Yah I’ve got one last dance saved in me. Want to?”

Matt fumbled in his seat debating whether this was a good idea or not. He didn’t want to tell her he had two left feet let alone he’d never been to a school dance. Sure Matt had graceful rhythm and technique when it came to fighting but when it came to dancing? He floundered. About to decline the gesture when Karen took the decision out of his hands and yanked him up. 

“I’m not really good at this.” Matt admitted sluggishly. Glancing downward. 

“You don’t need to be.” Karen told him gently, placing his hands at her waist and embracing her’s around his neck. He could hear her heart racing almost in-sync with his. And his cheeks flustered. “All you do is...fall into the music and let go.”

He nodded. Holding her in his arms and they began to sway sideways, occasionally turning in a counter-circle. Matt to his surprised stopped thinking. He didn’t even step on her toes. His focus remained with her. A girl he’d just met but felt like he’d known his whole life. She stared at him hypnotically and subtly moved closer into his space. This made him nervous, mouth parting, but he didn’t resist. Chest to chest, Karen leaned her head against his shoulder closing her eyes.The smell of her hair was so fragrantly rich in vanilla. He could lose himself in that scent if he wasn’t careful. Then unexpectedly Matt’s feet stopped and Karen glanced skyward.

“Is everything okay Matt?” she asked him.

“Its perfect.” he said softly.

KAREN! Karen!

Suddenly the mood spoiled when they heard other girl voices coming from behind them. Startled Karen disengaged herself from Matt’s grasp and spun towards the people calling her name. Apparently she recognized them and probably had to go back. It was her life anyway not his. She was too nice to get wrapped up in his crazy, messed up world. As he listened to her shuffle down the steps towards the voices of her friends, Matt seized the opportunity to grab his things and split from the gazebo. He hated leaving her like this, she deserved an explanation. But being so flaky these days he didn’t have it in him to do so. 

Instead he hopped the chain-linked fence and looked over his shoulder one final time. 

“Goodbye Karen...thanks for the dance.”           

[aelin-and-feyre]

Ten Minutes Ago (Part 8)

Feysand - Cinderella au

Fic Masterlist

It feels like we’re getting close to the end but there’s still four more parts left!

“I can’t believe it,” Rhys growls, pacing in front of his father’s desk on the morning of his birthday. The High Lord looks like he is about to interject but Rhys isn’t done. “Actually, I can believe it because it’s exactly you. Every chance you get you manipulate my life, first with the hunting, then with training, and now you’re making me get married! And you won’t even let me choose my bride!”

“Of course I’m letting you choose who you marry Rhys,” he assures calmly.

“No,” Rhys pins his father with a hard glare. “No, you’re not. You’re ‘letting me’ choose from one of your elite—a select few who you think would suit me but I won’t allow it! I want to choose the person I spend the rest of my life with, father. Why won’t you just accept that?” He exclaims.

Rhys was right, he wasn’t able to sleep last night, at least not well. His mind was buzzing with arguments and love notes, expletives and beautiful blue-gray eyes. So, as soon as word came that his father was awake, Rhys requested a meeting with him.

“I’m doing this because I need to know that I’m leaving the kingdom in good hands,” the High Lord sighs. He is clearly exhausted but Rhys refuses to back down.

He scoffs. “You mean royal hands. Just because someone does not come from noble birth does not mean they can’t handle the Court, father.” The High Lord drags a hand down his face and giving him a long, hard look. Rhys’ expression turns desperate. “Please father, as a birthday present to me, lift the invitation decree and allow me a night to introduce you to the girl I wish as my bride. Please.”

Finally, the man quickly scribbles a quick note and hands it to his son. “Give this to Azriel, he’ll know what to do. Happy birthday Rhys.”

The prince can recognize a dismissal when he hears one and bows, starting to back out of the room. “Thank you, father. You won’t regret this.”

“I better not,” he grumbles and Rhys pulls the door closed.

He practically flies to the library, his heart joyous and light. He runs in, startling the four inside and leaping into a chair next to his best friend.

“I’m guessing the meeting went well then?” Cassian muses from across the table.

Rhys smiles grandly. “Here, Az, a note from my father.”

The Spymaster takes the note and glances over it, nodding. “It says that I am to alert all staff to welcome the ‘mystery princess’ tonight as the Guest of Honor.” They all looked rather impressed with Rhys.

“How the hell did you swing that?” Mor questions.

Rhys shrugs humbly, but the grin is still plastered on his face. “A little yelling, a little guilt triping, and I may have started begging halfway though.”

Amren shakes her head. “I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it. He even agreed to meet her!” Rhys feels like doing a little happy dance in his seat. Suddenly, he has an idea. “I’m going to meet her at the entrance and walk with her to the ballroom. We’ll make a grand entrance together.”

“Um, Your Highness, I don’t think that is wise,” Azriel interjects. “She usually comes late so you will have to fight off hundreds of maidens coming before her. I suggest you let me escort her and meet you at the ballroom.”

Azriel is right, Rhys knows he is, but he still wishes he could see her stepping out of that carriage for himself, walk through the halls with the Guest of Honor on his arm. With a heavy sigh, Rhys agrees, “Fine, I guess you’re right. Just, get her to me as quickly as possible.”

Az stands and bows his head to Rhys. “I’m going to go inform the staff.”

Once the Spymaster is gone, Cassian cracks his knuckles. “Okay, while you were gone, we started a list of all the things we know about her.” Mor holds up a piece of paper with a couple lines of neat scrawl.

“Well, what have you got so far?”

“Her alias is Clare. She has light brown hair with blue-grey eyes. She is probably starved but can still afford one-of-a-kind dresses. She can run super fast and knows the song from Prince Rhys’ childhood. That’s about it for right now,” Mor reads off and Rhys is impressed that Cassian remembered the song one, or maybe it was Az.

“She always disappears when the clock strikes midnight,” Amren mentions and they all looked at her, confused. “Oh, please tell me I’m not the only one who realized that.”

Now that Rhys thinks about it, both times Clare had run away from him was when she heard the clock begin to chime. In fact, now that Rhys really thinks about it, he can remember a lot of odd things that were connected to Clare in the last few days.

“I have an idea,” he says suddenly and they all looked to him, Mor ready with her pencil to mark down whatever he says. “I’m not letting Clare get away tonight.”

...

“’Clare’ better not make an appearance tonight,” Nesta mutters for the thirty-fourth time today—Feyre counted. Her mother shushes her and ushers the sisters into the carriage.

Before joining them, Amarantha turns back to Feyre, eyeing her suspiciously in the doorway. “Make sure not to leave the house tonight, Cinderella.”

Feyre smiles softly, innocently. “Of course, Stepmother. Have a good night.”

Amarantha looks at her for another half second before nodding to herself and entering the carriage.

Rumor had spread about the mysterious princess coming back last night but not making it to the ballroom. Someone from the kitchen had leaked all that had happened. Everyone in the Court now knows about her arriving with Cassian, the food fiasco, and her alleged name. The person had told of Prince Rhys but hadn’t elaborated on anything after he came which Feyre is grateful for.

However, all day, her stepsisters lamented that if they’d gotten another thirty seconds with the Prince, he would have fallen in love with them. Feyre subtly rolled her eyes but kept any comments to herself. Nesta and Elain were both very disgruntled at the fact that ‘Clare’ might come back tonight, ruining their last chance to win the Prince’s heart.

Feyre watches the carriage for a few minutes and then rushes back inside. She runs through the house to the back garden, stopping when she reaches the old bench. She rips a length of vine and sets a circle, then she sits and waits.

“Are you ready for the final night?” The Suriel seems to appear from nowhere, one foot in the circle trap.

“I suppose so.”

A look of confusion crosses the faerie’s features. “What’s wrong?”

Feyre lets her head drop to her hands. “Everything. I think Stepmother knows that it’s me, Rhys and Cassian are getting too close to figuring out who I am, I don’t think they’ll let me leave tonight, and I think I’m in love,” Feyre confesses all in one breath.

When the Suriel doesn’t say anything for a long while. Feyre finally glances up to find them looking at her thoughtfully. “You’re in love with Prince Rhys, right?” The Suriel asks after the pause.

“Of course!” Feyre exclaims, exasperated.

The Suriel nods, content with the answer. “Ok good, then I can help you with your other problems.”

“You can?” Her friend pins her with a dry look. “You’re right, I shouldn’t doubt you.”

One side of the Suriel’s mouth tilts up. “Amarantha just needs a little push in the other direction to veer off your scent so I’m gonna do something a little different with your outfit tonight. Cassian and Rhys have no idea who you are, trust me, so I don’t need to do anything about that.” Feyre nods but is still skeptical. “And what’s the worst that can happen if they do find out?”

“They will be mortified that Rhys wasted his birthday celebration on a servant girl and banish me for wasting their time and lying to them,” Feyre suggests.

“If they don’t know who you are then you’ll never be able to see them again anyway,” the Suriel reminds. “But it’s your choice. As for the not letting you leave, you’re very right. Rhys is going to try his hardest to not let you run off without finding out who you are so I’m going to give you a little something for any obstacles you may encounter.” They wait expectantly until Feyre gets the hint.

“Suriel, you are under my control and as such I have a request: I wish for a tool to help me escape the ball tonight.”

Satisfied, the Suriel clenches their fist and opens it to present a bracelet with five blue pearls on it. They hand the delicate jewelry to Feyre carefully. “The beads on this bracelet will serve as short magic bursts. When it is time to leave and you run into things on your way, grab a bead and throw it at the hindrance. It will be just enough power to get you past the object but won’t do much more. Do you understand?”

Feyre nods and slips the bracelet around her wrist. “Good,” the Suriel claps. “Now let’s get you ready for your ma– I mean Prince.”

In the same order as the last two nights, a new pumpkin morphs into a blue carriage, the mice shift into horses, Bryaxis becomes human, and the bunnies hop onto the back of the pumpkin as footmen. At last, the Suriel turns to Feyre.

“You’re going to have more eyes on you tonight than ever in your life Feyre, we have to make this especially memorable.” Flicking their wrist, Feyre feels a soft breeze swirl around her.

Feyre watches as her dress grows, fluffs, and wraps around her body. The color changes to a brilliant blue, hundreds of layers build in the skirt, and her feet rise as glass slippers form around them.

When the transformation is almost finished, Feyre feels something settle into her hair. She reaches a hand up to lightly trace a tiara placed atop her head. “You’re making me an actual princess for the night?” She asks softly, checking that the bracelet is still secure around her now gloved wrist.

The Suriel shrugs. “Why not? They all think you’re one anyway, except Amarantha. The tiara will point her in the wrong direction and away from you.”

Feyre nods slowly, although not sure if she wants Rhys to think that she is royalty anymore than he already does. “Thank you, Suriel,” she says at last, truly meaning it. “These last two nights have been the best of my life.”

“Of course, girl. I wish you a long and lovely life, Feyre.” A black, mottled hand grasps hers gently for a short moment and then Feyre gathers her skirt to ascend the carriage. “Oh, make sure you watch the clock very closely tonight Feyre. Those beads can do much but they can’t rewind time.”

Feyre nods against, a lump in her throat at the thought of her first friend disappearing again. “Goodbye.” The Suriel’s voice is already fading in the distance and when Feyre looks back, they’re no longer there.

Masterlist

[wannawrite]

Double Trouble

who?: Wanna One’s Kang Daniel, Nuest W’s / Pd101’s Kang Dongho genre: 🌺 type: bullet point blog navigator. • weeks leading up to prom, someone has been dropping love letters into your locker • you’re certain about who you’re prom date is going to be....or are you? rae, @lalisalsa, requested this and she really loves angst so I’ll try to make it v v angsty >:) HOPE YOU AREN’T DISAPPOINTED BEB sorry this is so short and delayed and kind of sub-par, I’ve just been extremely busy and exhausted. - Admin L 

disclaimer: photos used do not belong to me and all credit goes to their original owner 

• Who? • You needed a name. • Who had been the person dropping secretive love letters into your locker? • The envelopes were a soft, baby pink spritzed with a flowery, dreamy perfume and containing words written on creamy paper that would make anybody’s heart flutter. • they made your heart beat terribly fast and redness rush to your face immediately • all of you friends would snicker and tease you about the mystery sender • NDOSHSKDH WHO IS IT • THIS IS SO UNFAIR • again, this is set in a high school - junior college AU bc I am BLAND and unimaginative • the first letter came in when it was about a month before prom • and it wasn’t signed or stamped with some mark that signified who the secret admirer was • but it came nicely packaged and clearly, a lot of effort was put into it • love makes you do peculiar things • anyway, you were shocked, stunned, brain unable to process that someone had written a LOVE LETTER to YOU • sounds pathetic but uh...not everyone gets this on a daily • you haven’t gotten one in...7 years?   • LET ME REJOICE IN PEACE • haha • those kindergarten love letters count okay. yet, I never received any rip my love life since the start • i :) was :)) unlikeable :))) romantically :)))) anyway :))))) • if anyone tryna fall in love for the new year, do hit me up • I’M KIDDING • or am I? • is the sender serious playing games with you right now? • You’re on the brink of losing it • okay, let me read out what your secret admirer sent • a small excerpt because everyone can keep their secrets ;) • ‘one day, I hope you’ll come to accept my feelings for you. I can only hope my dreams of us together would come true.’ • ‘humbling myself to finally look into your eyes and confess my love in person.’ • *add 5-7 more lines that I was too uncreative to write* • I’m sorry, I’ve never professed my love to anyone before • okay maybe...once? but that's a story for another time • and - how unromantic of me - I did it over text so uh...0 experience • WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN? • HAS SOMEONE HAD A TREMENDOUS CRUSH ON YOU • FOR SO LONG THAT THEY CONSIDER IT LOVE • how adorable • you find them lovable already • unless they’re some creepy, stalker/serial-murderer • racist • misogynist • okay you get the drift • you had clutched the letter close to your chest, feelings stirring up inside like a whirlwind • warmth rushing to your face as your trembling fingers fought to tuck the note into your backpack - out of everyone’s sight - and lock up your locker • without taking out your books for the necessary classes lmao • if you were a cartoon character, there would be a crown of hearts floating over your head and the beating of your heart would be the main bgm • ‘hey y/n,’ your close friend and table partner, Choi Minki greeted with a grin on his face, his navy school bag slung over one shoulder, hands shoved into the pocket of his school slacks. ‘Ready for class?’ • brain: no No nO NO I’LL NEVER BE READY • you: yupp! :D super ready!! Ever ready!! ✨🌸💖🌸✨💫🌸💕💖 • you: boRN ReADY 😫😫😤😤👏🏼😭💯💯👅👅🤣🤣🤣 • brain: MISSION ABORT MISSION ABORT YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO FOCUS ON CLASS WITH THIS SECRET ADMIRER ON YOUR MIND • *sobs for eternity* • well uh what the hell happened in maths class??? • you were 90% sure that all the curious stares from your classmates were due to the fact that your eyes were glossed over, clearly in some sort of la-la land. you rested your chin in your hands, lips letting out a dreamy sigh once in a while • ‘MATH NOTES’ was scribbled in a pink Midliner - art marker - at the top of your notebook page but other than the date, the lines were left blank • your mind was too busy focussed on a different date • even Minki was having a hard time figuring out what was wrong with you • *poke poke* • ‘hey, can I borrow a stapler?’ • *no answer* • instead, he spots a couple of different coloured hearts scrawled on your notepad • ahh • love virus • I love Nu’est with all my heart • ignored, Minki moves on to ask Aron - the classmate sitting in front of you - for a sharpener • Aron’s brows furrow in confusion when he sees you, then he laughs it off, shaking his head. • ‘ahh, who is it that has taken our dear friend’s heart?’ • I’ve been reading many webtoons recently bcI’vebeenquitestressed and I can totally imagine how this would look like • especially with the blushes! • uhm who were you? you rarely ever dozed off or daydreamed in class. This was a huge first for you • the bell finally rang and Minki had to shake you out of your oblivion • the sides of your forearms were neatly decorated with Midliner ink, signed by Choi Minki • ‘huh?’ • ‘let’s go! We’ll be late for chemistry!’ • I sense chemistry between my secret admirer and me • THIS MUST BE A SIGN • THEY MUST BE IN MY CHEMISTRY CLASS • your sneakers slap against the tiles, the sound of the impact echoing down the hallway as you race towards the laboratory • dishevelled, you and Minki arrive just before your teacher does and you scramble to take a seat • both of you end up sharing a bench with Hwang Minhyun and Kim Jaehwan, right behind Kang Daniel, Ong Seongwoo, Ha Sungwoon and Yoon Jisung • HYUNG LINE • Minhyun texts you often so you don’t have any qualms with sharing a bench • he just doesn’t have any shared classes with you or Minki, or Aron,,,or Dongho this term :((( • but, intimidation creeps upon you when you realise you’re surrounded by members of a popular clique in school • Minki is friends with all of them so he pays no mind and probably doesn’t sense your ‘I’M FREAKING OUT’ signal • however, as soon as class starts, you’re back to meddling with your suspicions on who the letter sender is • suddenly, your ears pick up soft taps on your bench and you’re snapped back to reality • or is it? • because Kang Daniel, turned his seat around to face you, eyes twinkling with a smile • ‘hi, uh...could I borrow your periodic table for a second? I forgot mine in my locker.’ he asks, ears reddening the slightest bit • still entranced by his gorgeous features and suave tone, you absent-mindedly hand him your print out, not realising you’re checking him out • what a view • I could stir up some chemistry between me and you • *holds up stirrer* • enough puns pls they’re so bad anyway • his eyes scan over it for a second before he writes down his answer and returns the paper back to you • ‘thank you! oh, I’m Kang Daniel, by the way.’ • SWOON • cue Minki and Minhyun’s amused, muffled giggles • ‘oooh heHeHEhEHehE >:)’ • you introduce yourself • then return to work • but your eyes sweep over Daniel’s desk, and it seems as if he’s hard at work, penning something down • it doesn’t have anything to do with chemistry • because he wrote the title as ‘the love I want to confess’ • OH • MY • GOODNESS • !!!!!!! • brain: stop stop stop!! It doesn’t necessarily mean ANYTHING! DON’T MAKE A FOOL OUT OF YOURSELF • yeah, you decide to listen to your head, pulling your lips into a tight smile as you try to refocus your attention on your worksheet • Minki wants to stab you in the heart with a stray pair of vernier calipers he found • probably from a physics class kid who walked into the wrong lab and dropped it • you don’t die and make it back safely • at home, you keep the letter, tucking it away from prying and curious family • hope rises as you fall into bed and pull the covers over your head • but no letters are present in your locker the next day • and the next • and the next • ....and the next • until, one day, you don’t expect anything anymore • studies have taken over most of your thoughts • you’re just about ready to go prom outfit shopping with your friends when you remembered you had left your notes in your locker • an identical envelope tumbled out of your locker • it landed on the floor with a loud thud • or was the sound from your heart? • again, I shall reveal a small portion if this confession • ‘getting ready for the big day already? well I hope you’ll only be dancing with me.’ • ‘never worry about my identity, you’re inching closer to me everyday.’ • more clues • well, recently, you had made friends with a transfer student, Jeon Heejin, hung out after school with Minki and Aron and gotten Kang Daniel’s number • on Thursday afternoon, Dongho and Kyulkyung had invited you to go bowling and that was how you spent your afternoon • hm • at least you managed to form a group of suspects • it had to be one of them • there was only time left to wait and see • 1 week and 4 days before prom,,, • I’m sorry I’m skipping over a lot of plot development and elaboration :((( • this time was different, the sealed envelope was waiting for you on your desk • and it just happened that you running late that day, stuffing your breakfast sandwich into your mouth as you dashed to your table, shoelaces untied and uniform unkempt • you paid the latest love letter no mind, tossing it into the bottom of your school bag, it lay there, forgotten • until,,, • ‘hi, do you have the textbook? Can I borrow it?’ Dongho whispered as he bumped into you in the corridor, probably on the way to his next class empty-handed • rolling your eyes in a playful manner, you unzipped your bag with the intention of taking your textbook out • uh...looks like you need to be a tad bit more organised in that department • schools supplies were jumbled up in your bag, a couple of items fell out of the open flap • including the letter from the secret admirer • puzzled, Dongho picked it up along with the rest of your things • ‘ooh, a secret lover?’ he teased, eyes speckled with curiosity • immediately, you yanked the envelope out of his grip with a blush seeping onto your face • ‘n-nothing! you’ll be late for class!’ you called, shooing him off before he could say anymore • thankfully, your friend was kind and understanding enough to let the matter drop • you managed to make it through the day without much problems. school was rather eventful, you got a chance to bond with Daniel and Minhyun over lunch because Minki was sick • ripping open yet another packet of jellies, Daniel whined, brows furrowed, ‘hyung, are you sure you can’t make it next week?’ • next week? • Minhyun sadly shook his head, biting his bottom lip in an upset manner. ‘I’m sorry Daniel. I have some committee things to settle at the time of your game.’ • game? • oh, pre-prom activities • Daniel sighed in disappointment, he chewed on a candy to calm his feelings • ‘wait, you can invite your new friend. It’ll be a first and it’ll be more fun!’ Minhyun suggested, gesturing to you in an attempt to cheer Daniel up • Daniel went from staring into space to excitedly chatting about it • words you caught: prom, basketball game, hyung always goes to cheer me on, the rest of my friends are coming but it isn’t the same • ‘woah, woah!’ you uttered, putting your hands up in a gesture for him to slow down. • ‘so are you in?’ • YES. I DOVE IN HEAD FIRST • ‘sure I don’t mind going.’ • the boy practically jumped across the table to embrace you tightly. ‘ • ‘wear my jersey!’ • uHM WOAH I KNOW WE’VE BEEN FRIENDS FOR THREE WEEKS AND TEXTED AS MUCH AS I TEXT MY NU’EST FRIENDS BUT WOAH • ‘of course! If you don’t mind.’ • ‘thank you! I love you so much!’ Daniel yelled before continuing on about how much he was anticipating the game • i  l o v e  you so much • is it Daniel? • you gaped in shock, sitting in silence as the beats of your heart drowned out anything else • Daniel • Daniel was the man in love with you • that was the only thought that plagued your mind for the rest of the day • hmm what did that letter say after all? • ‘one more week to the dance, looks like a I’m cutting it really close. Apologies. You’ll see soon.’ • ‘Don’t worry. If anything, I’ll be the one dateless at prom. You’ll always find a knight in shining armour in me. Let’s not joust anymore’ • ‘Kiss me in A summer Night dream? I’m thinking of only you, my Gem.’ • so romantic • I’ve found out that I absolutely have 0 talent in writing love letters • tbh these are so creepy I would be calling 999 already   • my love life only taking Ls • SUSPECT ACCUSED • SUSPECT GUILTY • SUSPECTED: KANG DANIEL • geez he really put effort into these and only reveals his name now wow • for that, I shall wait to text my reply hehehehe >:) • wouldn’t it be better to talk to him in person? I’ll call him to go out later • ahh, he’s busy training for Monday’s game • we can talk then! :) • your family nearly dies of shock when you burst through the front door, a skip in your step and screaming out incoherently • they don’t question your strange behaviour though • something magical is gonna happen at the game and you’re sure of it • clad in Daniel’s jersey, you make your way to the school stadium the following week, itching for the big surprise, your lips tugged into a gigantic smile • students start to fill in the sports hall, gossiping excitedly and predicting how the friendly game would play out • even Heejin attends the game, face pink and hair tucked into a coral beanie. She offers you some chips • Daniel’s most likely still gearing up for the game so you agree to sit with her on the bleachers to watch. • just as you approach the busy stairs, someone calls your name loudly from behind causing you spin round and nearly knocking into the broad chest of a cheerful Dongho • ‘I didn’t think I would be seeing you here,’ he said, pleasantly surprised. His gaze flickered to your shirt - Daniel’s school team jersey that is. ‘How supportive of you! So sweet. • *head pats, dad boyfriend smiles* • Dongho and Daniel would so get along! You could pretty much feel your heart soaring with elation • This is perfect! All I’ve wanted in life! My friends and my future boyfriend let’snotgetaheadnowshallwe to be close friends too! • Suddenly, just as you were about to gush about Daniel and his undying love, Dongho grabbed your hand. • ‘c-can we head outside for a second? I need to talk to you about something urgent.’ • ‘ATTENTION LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE GAME WILL BE STARTING SOON...’ • you grimaced, wanting to be the first one to catch Daniel’s eye when he emerged onto the court • ‘sorry, but we should take our seats, I’m sitting with Heejin, come join us. You know her, uhm, the transfer student, physics-‘ • you jumped as loud airhorns sounded to announce the arrival of the teams • Dongho quickly hustled the both of you to your seats • the crowd of students started cheering wildly when your school’s team emerged led by Lai Guanlin • your screams were the loudest when Daniel stepped out of the shadows • his charming gaze bore into yours, a smile gracing his features • HEART BEATING STARTS ACCELERATING • HE DOESN’T BREAK EYE CONTACT EVEN AS HE ACKNOWLEDGES THE CROWD • WHATTA MAN • ‘it was me.’ A familiar voice whispers into your ear • WAIT WHAT? • your eyes go wide like glossy marbles, confusion beginning to stir within you • No, I could be wrong. I barely heard him anyway. I’ll ask later • ‘I was the one who sent those letters to your locker.’ • w h a t ? • no way • ‘it isn’t Daniel.’ • Daniel smiles at you one more time as the referee begins to signal for them to take their positions • your grip tightens around the hems of his precious jersey • you aren’t sure what to make of the sudden situation • Dongho • What’s his last name? Kang • Daniel • Another Kang • The Kang twins daddies  • two Kangs, one of them has been sending you love letters • you want to believe it’s Kang Daniel, your new friend and crush • but it’s the boy who has been your friend for so long you don’t exactly remember for how many years • thud thud thud • looks like you’re caught between the two Kangs • Dongho’s eyes are begging you to believe him, trust that he’s telling the truth • Daniel’s eyes are clear, bright, they aren’t ones of deceit • ‘I-I....’ • you can’t seem to form a coherent reply • your lips seal shut, forcing your jaw that fell in shock to close • the referee blows the whistle, Dongho’s eyes don’t leave yours • the crowd drowns all other noises, yet all you can hear is the thudding of the ball, the sound of your fragile heart crashing against your ribcage • Daniel? • or Dongho? • let the game begin

[vapormaison]

2019 Best Vinyl Pressing 2/4: Sweet Summer Trip by GreyL

GreyL’s “Sweet Summer Trip” reminded me of why I got into hi-fi.

It’s kind of a funny story.

At the risk of sounding ridiculous — the first song that caused me to “seriously” think about hi-fi and physical media on the whole was Good Vibrations by Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch. Absurd, I know. Obscene, even — I’ll grant it!

Give me a hundred or so words to work my way back:

A decade ago, I had the luxury of owning a Jaguar Vanden Plas of mid-nineties vintage as a daily driver while still in University. For the non-car nerds out there, this is the model of British land-based battlecruiser that Queen Elizabeth was carted around in for a couple decades. For its time, it was beyond luxurious, comfortable for both driver and passenger to the extreme — and without a doubt very much an “old man” car. By 2011 — mine was also beyond dated. For the most part, I envied my more bougie classmates riding around in contemporary German imports — in all areas except one. My stereo. This VP must have been owned by an audiophile, because they had splurged for the Harman Kardon system — the top shelf offered by Jaguars of that vintage. I’ll spare you the specs — but believe me that it put the muddy Bang & Olfusens in the Benzes to shame.

Why, you ask, is it so special? The simple answer is pedigree. These systems were produced the same factory to identical specs that Bowers & Wilkins was using for Rolls Royce and Bentley — a $4,000 upgrade for that car in 1995 dollars. As a result, I had an aristocrat’s luxury saloon that could function as a massive, high-fidelity ghetto blaster on wheels. Biggie and I blasted from the same schematics of speakers.

Unfortunately, I was never much of a cassette guy (I’m still not!) — and I never invested in a good tape collection. One tape that came with the car, however — a forgotten glove compartment gift — was Marky Mark’s.

It was, alas, the only good one.

In the midst of those daily drives to campus and back, I found myself positively entranced by the deft mix of bright and poppy rap by Yung Mark and hypnotic euro-pop samples that populated much of the tape. With the windows up and at low-enough speeds, the Jag provided a rich, warm experience that just oozed effortlessly from the Harmans. While I basked in that sound — I wondered why everything sounded so much richer than my mp3s plugged and played into a pair of Beats by Dr. Dre Solos. The warmth, the brightness, — the beautifully constructed mix of primitive drum kits and euro-trance beats shone through with full fidelity and range. I began to appreciate the music for its component parts, as I could make out each part of the mix in detail.

I began to appreciate the little things — those sonic nuances that an artist weaves into their craft to achieve perfection, but are so often ignored by the limitations of format and listening form. All of these were present in Sweet Summer Trip — and this means the world to me.

This is how I became a hi-fi head, however amateur.

Thus, Sweet Summer Trip was nostalgic and powerful for me in so many ways past the incontestable quality of the master. My ears really woke up again on this one when needle hit vinyl — as I’m, with full disclosure, incredibly biased towards GreyL’s sound. The best way I can characterize it as follows: vibrant J-hop and euro-house influences that are infused with an energized, even ebullient future-funk core. That’s without a doubt my bread and butter, and I was all ears. My initial attentiveness was rewarded with a sonic experience that I can only liken to a perfectly cooked Delmonico. A-side, B-side — there was a fully fleshed out and really magnificently treated product here — both creatively and technically. I’ve included some more detailed thoughts on it here:

PART 1: The Music

Nightmagic just feels like the perfect track to start your vapor95-clad Japanese road-trip to. I’d suggest an Abashiri-Yatsushiro circuit — preferably in a DeLorean or Nissan Skyline GTR. Barring that, you can just enjoy five fun, fresh minutes of surprisingly full-bodied 8-bit-sounding samples that coalesce into pure, unadulterated groove in the song’s final half. As if just putting extra icing on this sonic birthday cake, we get a seamless — precision, even — transition into:

da da song — which kicks off with a cacophony of dialing phones and record scratches, succeeds in bringing some much needed bass to the GreyL experience at this stage. With a brilliantly hypnotic vocals and the most creative hype sample of Ludacris I’ve ever heard, we get firmly seat-belted in to our own sweet summer trip, sonically speaking.

stripe absolutely slaps! This is, as far as I’m concerned, the absolute, quintessential “GreyL sound”. I fell in love with this album and GreyL’s oeuvre for their manic genius of micro-sample use, and it is present here in spades. Somehow, someway, GreyL managed to meld Toki Asoko, Sonic the Hedgehog, Lil' John, Daft Punk, and G-Dragon together in one song — and if that seems at first glance discordant or simply “too much” or perhaps even a meme — it’s not. A snippet of One More Time’s chorus powers through a diverse yet structured composition held together by Asoko’s vocals and some flares by G-dragon. Lil Jon finds his way in for good measure, but isn’t leaned on or over-hyped. Most importantly, Sonic goes fast. It’s harmonious and warm and just absolutely brilliant on my speakers — which got their first good exercise in months from the wild range of this song. This is one of those tracks I fully expect to feature on top 20 lists when future funk has gone mainstream and is the subject of clickbait listicles. Stripe is— most succinctly put, a moment.

blue bird answers a question that no one really asked but seems at least topical: how do you follow up your magnum opus on an LP? GreyL replies with a groovy banger that eschews the barrage, or perhaps more kindly put, medley of micro-samples and provides a more straightforward Future Hop mix with a fresh flourish two minutes in giving us a masterfully modified hook. It brings the energy down from the fever pitch of strike in all the best ways.

groovin’ magic hits right back with snappy distorted vocals, an up-tempo and funky electric boogie riff. This is roughly when I began to realize the album arrangement was taking me on a really fun ride, and that groovin’ magic— while a catchy, beautifully mixed track in its own right, is the type of track you use in your DJ set in a supporting role — the type of lead-in to set the stage for an absolute banger to come. As a whimsical set of pops rounded out the penultimate minute, with a slightly heavier drum kit to match — my suspicion was confirmed — and in hindsight I was absolutely correct, because

let me be with you~ (4:20) brings it afresh. It immediately blasts a broadside of funky beats, samples, pops, and sonic flourishes while building into an absolutely euphoric dance groove. It’s an absolute tragedy that this track doesn’t find its way into more dance-funk sets, but I like to think my own amateur work does its share of proselytization. Every future funk physical, in my humble opinion, should have at least once bright, wide-mixed dance-hall banger where you can just drop the needle and vibe. While I enjoy stripe more as a fully realized concept, let me be with you~ is definitely the most vibe-worthy on the record.

期待はしないで puts greyL’s various house and techno influences on display — and was a track I really wanted to love, but am forced only to like. The vinyl master renders the track muddy on the low end. It was an easy enough fix on my system — but folks with a simpler vinyl setup may find this track a bit wanting. I boosted the bass by +4 and re-EQ’d slightly from my left channel. But — this has always been my view — more time spent at a pre-amp’s and equalizer’s control board is less time fully enjoying a track. While something like this normally would remove an album for consideration, I want to express what a testament the rest of the album is. The crisp, professional and downright artisanal work on this album more than justifies what I’d consider a hangup that may or may not be replicated on other systems. Either way, play with the bass a bit and you can still more than enjoy this piece.

fashion starts the side of the LP where things start getting fun and experimental. The piece brings GreyL most adjacent to that Future Hop on this record, but a creative array of micro-samples keeps it firmly in the funk department. Because of the rapidity of the bars, its runtime actually feels much faster than it is — about four minutes.

apple restonaurt’s most apt analogue is “electro-swing for the Amanaguchi listener”. With vocals so heavily modified they almost sound 8-bit and a sample set that seems to dig in from りんごレストラン and T.I., among others. It’s an invigorating and fun dip into that electro-swing sound, and GreyL manages it with ease, as always.

kaze no tani no nausicaa with a title that claims a Miyazaki pedigree, at first seems more at home in one of Yamakan’s works. We get a taste of DMX, what honestly sounds like a micro-sample of T.I. but is probably someone else, and a japanese vocal sample that dances around the mix, seeming to jump to and fro sonically throughout the entire track. A clever bit of mix/master work here, or a happy accident — it sounds fantastic.

ding-dong brings the energy down to a slow burn, and entrances us — perhaps even lulls, with a fire sax loop and atmospherically distorted vocal samples. It definitely ventures into chill wave for its first half, until turning on its afterburners in its second half— ushered in from one of the most subtle uses of Super Smash Bros. I’ve heard to date.

our place closes the album on an ideal note — giving us a final, filling course of funk and micro-sample array. While many closers tend to jack up the pace and vibe a bit too much for my taste, our place keeps it decidedly chill and sounds absolutely sweet on the speakers. A perfect note.

Part 2: Vinyl Listening Experience

I had the pleasure (and obscene fucking expense) of living in Hong Kong in 2018 for a few months. It was primarily for my international ed consultancy day job, but one of my great regrets is not immersing myself in the music scene there. What happens in Hong Kong, and neighboring Shenzen on the mainland (home to vapor/synth label Vill4n IIRC) is the absolute cutting edge of the music industry — and by natural extension, the world. This holds true for future funk.

Hong Kong-based label Neoncity Records has at times released some of the best-pressed vinyls in the game — especially in 2018,— and much to my appreciation — puts them out in reasonable release numbers and multiple batches. Although I’ve found some of their pressings to be a just bit on the clinical side (vinyl should be warm!), I’ve never encountered a physical put out by the label that is mixed and mastered poorly for its format. Vinyl-heads know what this means naturally, but the best way I can explain this for someone getting into the hobby is just to listen to a vinyl rip of My Pet Flamingo’s release of Late Night Deluxe. Everything sounds detached, EQ everywhere, and bass so muddy you can harvest rice from it. Not to harp on it unnecessarily, but it was definitely that label’s growing pain, and they’ve thankfully come a long way since that disastrous 7-inch. See my review of Soul’s Song by Yu-utsu for evidence of that!

But I never have to question a Neoncity release. It arrives, it sounds great, I show it off to my audiophile friends to a succession of nodding heads. That all said, GreyL’s vinyl is just a little bit different than many of its siblings. A little bit better, I’d say.

In a recent, sort-of impromptu apartment-party DJ set, I had the opportunity to play two Neoncity releases side-by-side. I had mixed let me be with you from Sweet Summer Trip with a track from Sailorwave II — another great release by Macross 82-99 and Neoncity. What impressed me most was my stereo’s reactivity to Greyl’s album. Sailorwave sounded good. Sweet Summer Trip slapped! As I mentioned in a previous review, future funk is — a decade after its “inception”, an up-and-coming genre. Even titans like Mikazuki Bigwave and Night Tempo have around 50k twitter followers, compared to the millions of most commercial musicians. The quality of mastering will improve, I think — I hope, as frequent collaborators and labels improve their professionalism in regard to physicals. It’s never a perfect process, of course — but Neoncity is ahead of the game in so many respects. They know what sounds good on vinyl, and you can see constant improvement in the quality of each release.

This is all to say, that from the perspective of pure stereo responsiveness — that bright, sufficiently wide and warm trifecta that you want from your platonic ideal of a vinyl release? It’s here. Sweet Summer Trip has it. Each of Greyl’s tracks (with the slight exception of 待はしないで,) gets some of the best work in on my stereo that i’ve heard this year.

Finally a word on aesthetics. Neoncity has the “beautiful anime cover art” corner on absolute lockdown — and Sweet Summer Trip’s cover is again a standout in this department. Crisp lines, just a hint of glossiness, and saturated hues characterize this cover. Like all great and beautiful things, of course — it feels a bit fragile compared to competitor’s releases — but this might just because of the heavy use this vinyl has seen — it’s always traveling in and out of its home when I’ve got company, and the sleeve is already starting to see some creasing, sadly.

Unfortunately, I can’t really recommend vapor fans go and pick this record up at the moment, as resellers on eBay and Discogs are scalping this at truly obscene prices. I had the luxury of picking mine up on release day — and like most of the buyers, have no desire to resell. That drives up the price, I’m sure.

So Neoncity — when’s the repress?

[firstbook]

Looking to get your kids reading?  Here’s some of our favorite titles.

K-2

Princess Posey and the First Grade Parade by Stephanie Greene

Posey is very nervous about starting first grade and walking into school all by herself. Worst of all, she has to do it without the one thing that always makes her feel brave and special: the tutu that turns her into the Pink Princess. How will Posey face the first day of school without it?

Mamá the Alien / Mamá La Extraterrestre (Bilingual, English/Spanish) by René Colato Laínez

A young girl misunderstands the word alien on her mother's Resident Alien Card and lets her imagination run wild, coming to the conclusion that her mother is from outer space. 

Good Night Owl by Greg Pizzoli

Owl is ready for bed. But as soon as he settles in, he hears a strange noise. He'll never get to sleep unless he can figure out what's going on!

We Are Growing! by Laurie Keller

Walt is not the tallest or the curliest or the pointiest or even the crunchiest. A confounded blade of grass searches for his "est" in this hilarious story about growing up.

The Cookie Fiasco by Dan Santat

Four friends. Three cookies. One problem. Hippo, Croc, and the Squirrels are determined to have equal cookies for all! But how? There are only three cookies … and four of them! They need to act fast before nervous Hippo breaks all the cookies into crumbs!

3-4 

The Lemonade War by Jacqueline Davies

As the final days of summer heat up, so does a sibling showdown over a high-stakes lemonade stand business. Jessie and Evan Treski compete to see who will make $100 first off of their respective lemonade stands.

Zapato Power: Freddie Ramos Takes Off by Jacqueline Jules

One day Freddie Ramos comes home from school and finds a strange box just for him. What's inside? ZAPATO POWER—shoes that change Freddie's life by giving him super speed!

Pax by Sara Pennypacker

After being forced to give up his pet fox Pax, a young boy named Peter decides to leave home and get his best friend back.

Secret Coders #3: Secrets & Sequences  by Gene Luen Yang

Stately Academy is no ordinary school: it was once home to an elite institute where teachers, students, and robots worked together to unravel the mysteries of coding. Hopper, Eni, and Josh won't rest until they've learned the whole story, but they aren't the only ones interested in the school's past.

Malala: A Hero for All by Shana Corey

Even as a young girl in Pakistan, Malala spoke up about the importance of girls' education, via speeches and a blog. Since the Taliban regime was intent on denying girls an education and silencing anyone who disagreed with their laws, this was very dangerous. Malala was shot, but she survived the attack and it did not silence her. 

5-6

The Kane Chronicles #3: The Serpent’s Shadow by Rick Riordan

He's b-a-a-ack! Despite their best efforts, Carter and Sadie Kane can't seem to keep Apophis, the chaos snake, down. Now Apophis is threatening to plunge the world into eternal darkness, and the Kanes are faced with the impossible task of having to destroy him once and for all.

Hour of the Bees by Lindsay Eagar

What does it mean to be fully alive? Magic blends with reality in a stunning coming-of-age novel about a girl, a grandfather, wanderlust, and reclaiming your roots.

The Night Gardener by Jonathan Auxier

The Night Gardener follows two abandoned Irish siblings who travel to work as servants at a creepy, crumbling English manor house. But the house and its inhabitants are not quite what they seem. Soon, the children are confronted by a mysterious stranger--and an ancient curse that threatens their very lives.

Booked by Kwame Alexander

Soccer, family, love, and friendship take center stage as twelve-year-old Nick learns the power of words as he wrestles with problems at home, stands up to a bully, and tries to impress the girl of his dreams.

Max’s Lucha Libre Adventures: Maximilian & the Lucha Libre Club (Bilingual, English/Spanish) by Xavier Garza

Max seems like any other kid until he is asked to join the Lucha Libre Club, but because of strict secrecy, he cannot tell anyone of his royal wrestling blood: his uncle is the king of lucha libre, the Guardian Angel.

  7-8

Raymie Nightingale by Kate DiCamillo

Raymie Clarke has come to realize that everything, absolutely everything, depends on her. And she has a plan. If Raymie can win the Little Miss Central Florida Tire competition, then her father, who left town two days ago with a dental hygienist, will see Raymie's picture in the paper and (maybe) come home. 

One Crazy Summer by Rita Williams-Garcia

Eleven-year-old Delphine has it together. Even though her mother, Cecile, abandoned her and her younger sisters, Vonetta and Fern, seven years ago. Even though her father and Big Ma will send them from Brooklyn to Oakland, California, to stay with Cecile for the summer. And even though Delphine will have to take care of her sisters, as usual, and learn the truth about the missing pieces of the past.

A Well and Wong Mystery #1: Murder is Bad Manners by Robin Stevens

Two friends form a detective agency—and must solve their first murder case—in this first adventure in a brand-new middle grade mystery series set at a 1930s boarding school.

The Thing About Jellyfish by Ali Benjamin

Twelve-year-old Suzy Swanson wades through her intense grief over the loss of her best friend by investigating the rare jellyfish she is convinced was responsible for her friend's death.

Zack Delacruz: Me and My Big Mouth by Jeff Anderson

Zack Delacruz is unnoticed at his middle school—and that’s just the way he likes it. But a school assembly, a typhoon of spit, and an uncharacteristic moment of bravery are all it takes to change everything. Suddenly Zack is in charge of the class fundraiser. Worse, his partner is the school’s biggest bully! If they don’t sell all the chocolate bars, there will be no dance for the sixth grade. Zack never wanted to be a hero, but with his classmates’ hopes on the line, can he save the day?

High School

A Time to Dance by Padma Venkatraman

Veda, a classical dance prodigy in India, lives and breathes dance--so when an accident leaves her a below-knee amputee, her dreams are shattered. For a girl who's grown used to receiving applause for her dance prowess and flexibility, adjusting to a prosthetic leg is painful and humbling. But Veda refuses to let her disability rob her of her dreams, and she starts all over again, taking beginner classes with the youngest dancers. 

Remember Dippy by Shirley Reva Vernick

Johnny's plans fly out the window when he finds out his single mother is leaving town for the summer. She has a breakthrough job in upstate New York. He can live with his Aunt Collette but only on the condition that he "help out with" his autistic older cousin, Remember. Yup, you heard it right: Remember Dippy. 

March: Book Three by John Lewis

By the fall of 1963, the Civil Rights Movement has penetrated deep into the American consciousness, and as chairman of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, John Lewis is guiding the tip of the spear. Through relentless direct action, SNCC continues to force the nation to confront its own blatant injustice, but for every step forward, the danger grows more intense: Jim Crow strikes back through legal tricks, intimidation, violence, and death. The only hope for lasting change is to give voice to the millions of Americans silenced by voter suppression: "One Man, One Vote."

Between Shades of Gray by Ruta Sepetys

Fifteen-year-old Lina is a Lithuanian girl living an ordinary life--until Soviet officers invade her home and tear her family apart. Separated from her father and forced onto a crowded train, Lina, her mother, and her young brother make their way to a Siberian work camp, where they are forced to fight for their lives. Lina finds solace in her art, documenting these events by drawing.

Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card

In order to develop a secure defense against a hostile alien race's next attack, government agencies breed child geniuses and train them as soldiers—young Ender is the Wiggin drafted to the orbiting Battle School for rigorous military training.

To explore more great titles, check out Summer Reading section on the First Book Marketplace.