#(because using that language and trying to match my very particular vibe to the recommended self care tips)

[itspileofgoodthings]

okay not to be a walking cliche and I hate to validate overused jargon but I kinda had a self-care day today and refilled my cup and it really helped. 😭

[swanlake1998]

Article: The Black Ballet Celeb Taking On Racism in Dance

Date: June 21, 2021

By: Mary Scott Manning

With a raft of Instagram followers and a modeling contract, the Washington Ballet’s Nardia Boodoo is as close as it gets to a pop celeb in the rarefied world of ballet. Now she’s trying to make that world more fair.

A ballerina, by definition, does not speak—at least not with words. The body is her language, and she spends her life mastering its vocabulary, usually at others’ direction: a casting list on the wall, a choreographer’s instructions, a critic’s review. For dancers of color, this fact has been doubly true.

But last year, after a Minneapolis police officer murdered George Floyd, and organizations across the professional spectrum were called out by people of color for furthering systemic racism, the overwhelmingly white world of ballet wasn’t spared. One of the most influential voices in that conversation was a dancer with the Washington Ballet, 27-year-old Nardia Boodoo.

You may have seen her onstage, one of the company’s five Black dancers, or in the pages of Marie Claire—she’s a model repped by Wilhelmina who has starred in campaigns for Tory Burch, Chanel Beauty, and Nike. She began dancing only 13 years ago, but Boodoo, whose roots are Indo-Trinidadian, has soared into the pantheon of ballet celebrities, the object of teen worship and the subject of fan art (plus at least one look-alike doll).

What was never visible was the racism she endured on the way up. “Despite the fact that I work hard in rehearsal, throw myself into my art form and perform on international stages,” as she put it on Instagram on May 31, 2020, “when I return home”—to Bethesda—”I’m still most likely to be questioned and harassed for walking my dog late at night in an affluent area…that I reside in.”

This month, Boodoo appears in one of the Washington Ballet’s latest productions, choreographed by the renowned Black dancer Silas Farely. Yet some of her most important recent work has occurred behind the scenes over the past year as she pushed the company to own ballet’s history of prejudice and its responsibility to change. “She’s just been a really, really important voice in helping us to galvanize and discuss all very important issues,” says Julie Kent, the company’s artistic director, issues that “haven’t really been addressed previously, and not just at the Washington Ballet but in ballet as an art form.”

When Boodoo started training at 14, Misty Copeland was making history as American Ballet Theatre’s first Black soloist in two decades, following trailblazing Black ballerinas such as Lauren Anderson and Raven Wilkinson. Boodoo’s peers at the Baltimore School for the Arts, meanwhile, were majority-African American, a “strong base,” she says, for a young artist of color. Boodoo earned a scholarship to Chicago’s Joffrey Ballet, then landed a coveted sport in the Washington Ballet’s studio company while still a teenager.

Leaving home, though, occasioned her first experiences with racial bias in ballet. “I’ve had someone who holds power say to me, ‘Well, because you stick out so much in the corps, you have to work so much harder, because everyone’s going to be looking at you,'” she says. “That’s not my fault that you only have one Black girl in the corps.”

It was the classic conundrum of a second generation. She wasn’t the one who broke down the door. But she still had to contend with an environment that was less than welcoming. And the pressure to fit a stereotype needled her. Virtually every professional Black dancer feels it: having to straighten curly hair, receiving costumes with mesh that doesn’t match their skin tone, wearing the pink tights that make light-skinned dancers look lithe but appear to chop inches off those with darker complexions. Sometimes Boodoo’s colleagues would make hurtful comments. “Stupid things,” she recalls, “like ‘Your hair smells like Black-girl hair.'”

Rachael Parini, a friend and the only other Black dancer when Boodoo joined the company, remembers when they were asked to wear white powder in Giselle, a tradition in the ballet but a loaded proposition for Black performers. At a rehearsal, the stager hollered over the loudspeaker: “Rachael and Nardia, why are you blue?” The powder apparently had turned their brown skin another hue under the cool stage lights.

Parini describes her friend as a force—”not one to back down from a fight.” But back then, the women endured the routine microaggression quietly. For all its glamour, a ballet company is a workplace like any other, governed by hierarchies and unwritten social codes. With one big difference: There’s usually no formal human-resources department. “You sort of get this vibe that this is how it is,” says Boodoo. “The more subservient you are…the better and the more instruction you’ll receive…the further your career will go on.”

After starting to model, Boodoo met a photographer who was perplexed by her acquiescence. He described how the New York dancers he knew were much more assertive. It was a revelation: Boodoo’s confidence and following grew. She became an apprentice at the Pennsylvania Ballet, then returned to DC, becoming a full company member in 2019.

By the time the country was protesting for racial justice and dancers of color began organizing over Zoom, she was ready to speak out. “To all the dancers that don’t feel supported by their companies,” she posted to Instagram on June 1, 2020, “I think it’s time to make some changes and to hold them accountable.” Andrea Long-Naidu, a former New York ballet star and a past teacher of Boodoo’s, looked on with pride: “When I had her at Dance Theatre of Harlem, she wasn’t aware of her powers yet.”

Seeing her staff in pain after George Floyd’s Killing, Kent convened an all-company Zoom. Voice cracking, Boodoo recounted her experiences, explaining that the bias often presented itself as overtly as it did implicitly: The problem wasn’t simply getting passed over for a role but also being told her face looked “too ethnic” for the part.

Kent, who is white, listened on the other side of the screen, distinctly aware of the vulnerability on display among her dancers. A former principal dancer with American Ballet Theatre, she performed on global stages and had a part in the beloved 2000 movie Center Stage. “I have a unique role and responsibility in order to move [the art form] forward,” she says, “and allow for the kind of career and love that I had to be possible for as many people as possible.”

Kent inherited one of the country’s most diverse companies from her predecessor, Septime Webre, who had recruited worldwide and electrified the institution’s cultural cachet. She had added 16 dancers to the corps, almost half of whom identify as BIPOC—and now they were hurting. There’s also the matter of competition. The Ballet has to compete with bigger acts imported by the Kennedy Center. In some ways, its relevance hinges on broadening ballet’s historically older, white audience with admirers whose woke-ness won’t tolerate notions of “diversity” that predate Black Lives Matter—or that feel performative.

Kent formed a working group with members from every department to tackle issues of inclusion and equity, and an outside consultant has been guiding their monthly meetings and homework. Boodoo, who represents the performers along with Oscar Sanchez, a Cuban dancer, had expected pushback. But her fan base and platform—a social-media audience that, at nearly 50,000 on Instagram, is within striking distance of some top New York ballerinas’—would have been tough for the company to ignore.

As wider discussions started, though, it became clear that white privilege was a new concept to some. Boodoo was dismayed that some colleagues were unfamiliar with certain civil-rights leaders, so she helped organize a remote study of the book The New Jim Crow. To prod management, she and fellow colleagues of color met privately to hash out ideas for the company at large. It’s been exhausting to divide her energy between institutional matters and the rigors of performing: “You want to just focus on your art form, you just want to focus on being beautiful, being a strong dancer, and contributing to the task at hand.”

Partly because of Covid limits on gatherings and partly because they had to start with building a shared vocabulary, the working group’s progress has felt slow. But they’re in the process of finalizing recommendations to address the places where inequity creeps in. Money, donors, time, and institutional commitment, meanwhile, all could limit their progress. The group, for instance, envisions a Nutcracker free of racist tropes—in particular, the traditional Arabian and Chinese dances, which play up offensive cultural stereotypes. But ticket sales help fund the annual budget. Will the public support changes to the beloved show? Can the company handle that financial risk?

The stakes—Black dancers continually being overlooked or leaving ballet—feel higher now that the work has begun. Still, Boodoo says she feels hopeful that the company will evolve. “She’ll be someone,” says Long-Naidu, “that’ll go down in the history books of Black ballerinas.” An artist who championed a new act for the ballet, or at least one who tried.

[escapekissed]

Lucky do you have any favorite pieces of media from the psychological horror genre? Feels like its a genre that matches ur interests very well 👉🏽👈🏽

there are a couple that really speak to me!

first is rule of rose, which is a game that is incredibly formative to me. in a time where i was looking for representation as a young gay person and REALLY into looking up wiki pages for horror games, rule of rose showed me the symbolic trauma of puberty and toxic ‘love’ between girl children and the violence of patriarchal figures that i was looking for. it showed such cruelty but also such strength in its main character, and the symbolism? exquisite.... it also just has such a creepy atmosphere and the fact that the game is near impossible to play along with its shitty graphics for the enemies makes it so. peculiar and creepy in a very special way to me.

catherine is another atlus game near and dear to my heart, tho i dont  think i’m ever going to be playing full body for that exact reason. it’s a game basically about eugenics and misogyny, about gods&devils thinking of women as only reproductive objects and the men in their lives that ‘waste their reproductive time’ being tortured and killed for it, taking away a woman’s choice. i always thought it would be so interesting to do trans and lesbian takes on this game, and i have never really? stopped thinking about how this game is so thrilling in its themes of entitlement and stopping people’s freedom to love as they wish. this is also one of the only horror games in which the ‘human element’ actually interests me. so many horror games give u terrible people and i dont give a FUCK ABOUT THEM. but the way this game shows u just snippets of his life as a ‘break’ from the excruciatingly scary (to me, because time limits scare me LOL), stressful as hell puzzles. and u get to figure out the mystery of what is going on in people who would otherwise be boring to you, but in this game are shrouded in just enough mystery that ur actually interested in their boring day-to-day lives. its so satisfying just to drink with ur buds. its like really great gameplay to me tbh. i also just love katherine and catherine and they frusturate me so much and that’s exactly what they’re supposed to do which i LOVE. extremely effective atmosphere setting and worldbuilding, basically.

the lighthouse is my favorite horror movie tbh because it does suspense so well. the movie is literally themed around suspense, the suspense of not getting sexual satisfaction to completion, of being touch starved and lonely and repressed, of being able to hold ur boss but never kiss him, of being fed lobster but it tastes flavorless and bland and u can smell ur boss’s farts the whole time while he prattles on with disturbing sailor’s tales and barks out orders until he’s lulled into his drink. i honestly love this movie. and the acting is brilliant and unhinged

there’s a few indie games i really like that have been either formative to me or i just??? really like their vibe and i can basically tell from them i would like every game in the ‘genre.’

pocket mirror to me is like, this beautiful game about your own inner toxicity and escaping from yourself. i love indie 64-bit games like this, the background art is so beautiful, and while i’ve never played all the way through it because it scares me too much---i love ib and all the games in the ‘ib’ genre LOL.

doki doki literature club i know is a very strange game to like, but i enjoy it for letting the women be actual characters with their own thoughts and feelings. the pychological horror movie ‘i’m thinking of ending things’ is the exact opposite of this game.'i’m thinking of ending things’ is a backwards approach to feminist horror in my opinion. it’s from a male’s perspective of his hallucinations of a girl that once didn’t give him a second glance and his violence towards her in these fantasies. it takes itself painfully seriously. it pretends to deconstruct something that the director helped soldify (the manic pixie dream girl trope) in the public eye. doki doki literature club on the other hand, the passive character who ‘things happen to’ is the man. the active roles all go to the women in the game and what they do to themselves in order to be loved by not just a man, but the player, and in doing so they often become the all-knowing god of their own prison. like tell me that’s not the dopest thing u’ve ever heard of!

twilight zone is a big one for me but 5 episodes in particular have shaped how i view horror forever. ‘to serve man’---where the greatest, scariest thing in the world is not being able to understand the language another person is actually using and for them to manipulate u using ur own, actually wishing u harm as they placate you with your own interpretations. the episode where a rich man’s last will and testament is for his vain, selfish relatives to wear a mask until midnight that reveals symbolically how ugly they are to him. they bicker all night with petty squabbles, and then at midnight he reveals the mask has permeanantly shaped their faces to reveal who they really are and the abuse he suffered under them. the cornfield episode still scares the shit out of me as someone with an entitled younger brother whose entitlement and anger is often enabled by those around us, and i’ve always thought that it was such a good show of like, how patriarchy enables little boy’s violence. the episode ‘all the time in the world’ where an abused man with a shitty life is finally the last man on earth and he can do anything he’d like to do and all he wants to do is read but then he breaks his glasses. and finally! the episode where toys in a box come to life and bemoan their fate as they realize they will be trapped there forever in clothes and identities they do not recognize. these episodes always scare the shit out of me LOL.

besides that i really like. low-budget passion project indie games. the first that comes to mind is ‘the path’ which is about a family of four sisters of various ages all inspired by little red riding hood who stray from the path and are hunted by the woodsman. and then the game that YOU my dear myers! showed me! that haunts me to this day. basically a tape talks to you about the areas of a house and then starts to talk about the house as a living creature. and the living creature is hungry, without you inside it. the living creature is tired of being alone, it’s tired of being abandoned, it’s tired, and it’s eyes are empty with no one in the windows, and it’s mind is blank with no one in the bedroom, and it’s hangry there’s no one in its basement to feast on, to torment as it has been tormented by disuse.

last but not least, i really enjoy the book ‘sharp objects.’ which is not technically a horror novel. but it is about a serial killer, and about women and abuse and it has some of the best writing ever. so i highly recommend it AND the miniseries (watch the miniseries first then read the book bc the miniseries is like. directed better? but the novel is written and characterized better. it’s also very short u can finish it in like a day and a half).

honorable mentions for horror In General (not necessarily psychological horror) are: 1) the birdcage. i honestly consider this movie entirely unsettling. robin williams failing to portray a man that is actually attracted to nathan lane, which could be because they have simply been married so long but also is just awful to me in general bc it makes me feel like even our outwardly gay but still more masc gay men can’t love and be attracted to femme camp gays even when they’re married to them. the fact that both these men that could be so in love, that were so in love at one time, you can at the very least imagine, are told by their only son that they need to go back in the closet to impress some old ass republicans, giving the message that no matter how succesful you are in the gay community, no matter how bright and wonderful a presence you are, no matter how loving you are, no matter how much you love, no matter how interwoven you are in lgbt-ness, the straight people you love most will still try to change you to impress the wold. horrifying.

2) coraline. its children’s horror but that’s still horror baby! i think lately about how much the movie talks about mothers and birth. coraline calls whybie ‘why born’ and i just think about how much she thinks about creating a new life with a new mother, and how going through that small door into a long tube... it’s like crawling into a new womb and being reborn to a new mother that loves you. and that’s horrific from a feminist perspective in and of itself---that your child would feel so unloved and unimportant to you that she would literally... rather die in this life, technically, rather be ‘unborn’ to you and born anew to someone, someone just like you but better, someone just like you but what SHE wants a mother to be, feminine and skirted and smiling. and then there’s the fact that coraline only gives this up when she realizes her other mother basically wants to change her more to suit her liking in ways that would cause her pain, at which point she realizes this whole fantasy is a lie, not real, something meant to entice her and control her and make her ‘perfect’---the same way she wants her mother & father to be ‘perfect’ in a way that causes her to act out and hurt them. it’s psychological horror that’s technically not psychological horror in the best way, something you can really dig your teeth into, something that has so many layers to it. and the animation! gorgeous!

3) finally i have recently watched annihilation. and it kind of changed my life a little bit.... so often we’re used to viewing monsters as either 1) malicious or 2) romantic/sad/sexy. but the monster in this movie is literally a metaphor for cervical cancer. 

to me, the monsters and the corpses and all the beautiful scenery in this movie, in every color u can think of, a muted rainbow of flowers and nature at its best and most bizarre and sprawling. i often say that monsters are beautiful, but tbh, i feel like... somehow i always mean that in a way that is near-fetishitic, somehow self-depcrating way, where i want to consider what other people think is ‘ugly’ is ‘beautiful to me’ because what i am also ugly to other people as a monster to the cishet white patriarchy. there are things i consider beautiful, certainly, purely beautiful. but when i talk about monsters being beautiful, it is in the way the sublime is beautiful. it scares me, it haunts me, i love it, i want to possess it as part of me, a totem to carry in my back pocket to make the strength in my own ugliness stronger.

when i saw the monster in this movie (SPOILERS) i was immediately unnerved at this bad cgi abomination that bloomed from the most beautiul cgi cancer death cosmos imaginable. it scared me and i had to sleep with a light on for 2 days after LOL. but i was also moved by its gentleness. by the fact that the cervical cancer alien, when it tried to hurt you, wasn’t trying to hurt you at all. it was simply copying your movements. in the movie, it says that the creature wants nothing. it was simply copying. it was simply changing. it’s a prism of nature---and it corrupts yes, and it can hurt people and things and turn them into scary but still terribly unique and beautiful things that also kill---but the movie says that it wants nothing. it simply exists. it’s a part of nature, same as us, a part of the same universe and cosmos, despite being alien to us and stange and hurting us sometimes in ways that it doesn’t understand.

i don’t know. if i quite believe the movie when it says that, though. because i think if you copy someone, like a child would, you are trying to understand them. you are trying to understand yourself. you are trying to form yourself in another’s image when you have none, and you are failing at that, and hurting people and creating monsters in the process, but you are trying as best as you can to be whole and beautiful and sane like the lovely creatures you’ve met on this earth, or this body. to be part of something great and beautiful. to be part of another world.

maybe it doesn’t want anything. but do WE want anything as children, when we copy adults? why did the bear and the alligator try to eat our heroes if they were not hungry? did the bear and the alligator not WANT to eat? i think everything wants to live, and everything wants to grow, and if it can learn to live better and grow better it Will learn even if that is not its explicit intention. does the alien have feelings? does nature? do we have to personify things to understand them? no. does personifying things make us understand them less? no, yes, sometimes. we ask animals and nature to copy us, follow us, so that we can understand them better. the relationship in between----from the hurt, from the pain, from the droughts and the food shortages and the hurricanes and the fireworks---forms from our kindness and understanding. that our crops are useful, and the man-made mutation of our crops and the help of the ran and the sun is also useful. that our animals may not love us, but they need us, and we love them for putting their paw on our thighs to be pet, for following us into the bathroom even when we just wanted a moment alone.

regardless of its intentions, the alien, cancer, every creature, every human, they simply want to grow. in copying others---in trying to touch, to change, to understand, and be close---we learn to live in the same body, learn to live in the same world. the togetherness--the new sight the prism brings---it’s beautiful. it is beautiful to copy, however poorly. it is beautiful to try. we all shape others to our own standards---we sometimes forget we too, were made in own own perception of others’ image.

[narashikari]

Thank You, Haikyuu!!

So here we are. The final chapter of Haikyuu...

Excuse me for becoming an emotional mess down in the cut. I only got into the fandom very recently, but holy eff I got too attached to these volleyball idiots way too quickly...

So yeah, I did see a lot of spoilers over the week, but I tried to resist posting about them myself until the official Viz translation was posted. But I did have a lot of FEELS over them, aaaah-

Also, I have this particular track from the Haikyuu OST in mind while reading the finale and it really contributes to the FEELS. It’s called Itadeki no Keshiki- or, translated, The View From the Summit. And lemme tell you, just listening to it, even without reading the chapter, already broke my heart a little.

Anyways, without further ado, an emotional rant ensues.

Also, crying over ships ensues.

First- that gorgeous, beautiful colored panels of Team Karasuno and a match with Nekoma, their eternal rivals. Seriously, words cannot describe just how beautiful this panel is. In fact... just look at it in its full glory. THE CHARACTER INTERACTIONS ALONE. HOLY FUCK. 

THE PRETTY SETTER SQUAD OF AKAASHI, OIKAWA, YAHABA AND SEMI!! 

BOKUTO AND IWAIZUMI AND TSUKKI!! 

TENDOU LAUGHING HIS ASS OFF AT THE MIYA TWINS WHILE SHIRABU AND KUNIMI ARE JUST (-__-) 

UDAI PLAYING A MOCK GAME WITH HOSHIUMI AND AKITERU

DAICHI, TANAKA AND HINATA’S CHILDHOOD FRIENDS ALL WATCHING THE GAME

AAAH MY HEART CAN’T TAKE THIS ALREADY

Tendou as a chocolatier. Somehow it fits him. He does have that Willy Wonka vibe to him...

���Best friends” my ass... Furudate said UshiTendou rights and had them meet up in Paris for a romantic dinner date

Former Nekoma peeps losing it over Fukunaga’s paella?

Just when we thought pro-gamer/CEO/sugar daddy Kenma & sports promoter Kuroo was the power couple of Nekoma... Furudate brought out pro-volleyball player Yaku & supermodel Lev.. YAKULEV NATION HOW ARE YOU FEELING NOW THAT YOU’RE WE’RE STANNING ONE HELL OF A POWER COUPLE

Also, Yaku bursting out laughing seeing Lev’s ad is just so... YakuLev

Wow, I didn’t expect Kanoka of all people to be brought back... and as the ace of the women’s national team of things! She may not have gotten the boy but man what a gig she got instead

And both Tanakas just being a huge supporter of her even now is just... my heart is so full rn

Furudate also said AsaNoya rights and had them run off for a world tour right when their friends are about to compete in the biggest tournament of their lives

Also how sweet is it that DaiSuga are still close to the Tanakas that they’re watching the Olympics together (and laughing at AsaNoya’s antics together)

THE RANDOM KID WHO TOLD USHIWAKA VOLLEYBALL WAS BORING BECAME AN USHIWAKA FAN I CANNOT

MONIWA OF ALL PEOPLE GETTING TICKETS TO SEE THE OLYMPICS LIVE

IWAIZUMI IS AN ATHLETIC TRAINER FOR TEAM JAPAN AAAAAAAAAH

AND THEY’RE PLAYING AGAINST OIKAWA AAAAAAAAAAAAAH

Oikawa being the underdog as the “unknown” in since he never made it to Nationals in high school... then he apparently settled down in Argentina and became a player on the National team

Look I didn’t like his attitude towards Kageyama because it reminded me too much of how I was treated in high school but man. I could respect his efforts. Good for him.

THE NATIONAL TEAM ROSTER IS LIT AF AHHHHHHH

Tsukki is still the pillar of salt we all know and love lmao... I can’t believe he’s on a team with Mad Dog of all people though!

Did Furudate seriously just say KageHina rights and had their partnership acknowledged by the announcers in the goddamned Olympics? Why yes they did 

“FEARED AS POTENT MASTERS OF AERIAL COMBAT” 

Daichi, Suga and the Tanakas are all of us right now

“LET’S PROVE AGAIN TO THE WORLD... THAT VOLLEYBALL IS FUN!” 

If Furudate didn’t do that with Haikyuu I will eat my pants

Udai furiously working on his new manga... and holy hell, look at those arms (...I have an arm fetish thanks to Renn Kiriyama, sue me)

So... they didn’t do the “View from the Summit” speech, instead they did the other speech from the beginning of the manga. I highly recommend listening to this clip from the first Haikyuu stage show to accompany it. Fitting, not only because it was the FIRST stage show (which meant it portrayed the beginning of the manga)... but amongst those reciting the speech was Oikawa. THE FEELS!!

THIS PANEL UGH. THE ONLY THING THAT WOULD MAKE IT BETTER IS IF IT WERE IN FULL COLOR

THE FREAK QUICK DUO IS BACK, LADIES AND GENTS!!!

NOPE I’M NOT CRYING YOU ARE CRYING-

OKAY NOW I’M CRYING...!!! THEY PROMISED TO COMPETE WITH EACH OTHER EVEN ON  THE WORLD STAGE... AND THEY DID IT

THESE FUCKERS STILL SHARE THE SAME BRAIN CELL ACROSS THE GODFUCKING GLOBE TEN YEARS AFTER THEY FIRST MET 

Also, their numbers are still right next to each others’. FURUDATE REALLY SAID KAGEHINA SOULMATE RIGHTS

And with that... Haikyuu!! has officially ended! Ahh, I’m so emotional right now... 

I probably won’t be able to sleep at all and I need to be awake in like 3 1/2 hours anyway so screw it, Imma go read more fanfic about volleyboys!

(Also also, now it’s practically canon that they will try to fluster the other by flirting/dirty talking in Portuguese/Italian. Language kink KageHina ftw?)

[daydreamingfics]

When We Collide - Chapter One

Word Count:  2,535 

Chapters Released: 1 - Masterlist

Warnings: Slow Burn (this story won’t be going from 0-100. Hopefully, ya’ll won’t find it to be a complete snooze-fest. Other than that, this chapter really just introduces characters. There may be a swear word or two, but that’s it. 

Authors Note: This is the first piece that I’ve written in a very long time, and though I’m nervous about releasing it into the world... I’m also very excited to share this little story that I’ve concocted in my head. I have so many stories that I think up and never post out of fear, and I decided that it ends now. I’m also slowly getting back into second-person style writing as it’s not my favorite, so any feedback on how I can improve is much appreciated! I hope that ya’ll enjoy this story!

*This story is inspired by the song ‘When We Collide’ by Jon Foreman. I would definitely recommend giving the song a listen. Thank you so much for checking out this story! 

Ten-minutes into the trek back to Downtown Los Angeles you started seeing signs for Paradise Cove. You had never ventured out to this particular beach mainly because you never really had a reason to be in Malibu, to begin with. But after seeing numerous signs for the location, you decided that a quick pit-stop was worth making time for. Plus, after the shit show morning that you had- the last thing you were in the mood for was the hours of editing that awaited you back in the office. With the exit rapidly approaching, you looked over at your videographer, Reggie, who was operating the wheel.

“Hey Reg, do you mind dropping me off up here at Paradise Cove? I just need a minute to breathe before we attempt to salvage any useful material out of the interview footage.’

Taking a quick glance from the road over to you, Reggie let out a chuckle in understanding. Reggie was an older gentleman, most-likely early fifties, but he’d holler out that he didn’t feel a day over thirty if you were to ask him. The topic of Reggie’s age was often a running joke throughout the office, as no one but the man in question knew of his real age. He had a heart of gold and years of experience in the business. You were thrilled when the two of you had been paired-up for assignments. If there was anything that you didn’t entirely understand or if an interviewee got a little cross with you, Reggie, always had your back. Over time, the two of you had developed a sort of father-daughter type of relationship. Having grown up in a single-mother household, Reggie indeed was the closest thing you’d ever had to a father.

“Sure thing, Y/N. Need me to stick around the area to pick you back up after a while?” Reggie questioned, knocking you out of the momentary daydream that you had fallen into.

Shaking your head, you sent Reggie a small smile. “No, you can go ahead back to the office. I don’t want to keep you. I won’t be long, though, wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun editing ahead of us. I’ll just get an Uber back.” Once the shoreline came into view, you knew that you had made the right decision. It's as if the day's stress was already melting away.

”Here, take this for your ride back. And call me if you need anything.” Reggie voiced as he held out a twenty.

”Reg, I appreciate it, but I'm fine. I may not get any worthwhile assignments, but I do still get a paycheck.” you laughed.

”You know that I won't take no for an answer, Y/N, so just take it.” Reggie replied while placing the crumpled bill into your hand. ”Now go, enjoy yourself! Be safe. Don't talk to strangers! And be home before the street lights come on. It's all types of crazies out in Malibu!”

”Yes, dad. I got it. I got it! Don't worry.” you snickered dramatically as you sent Reggie a wave while exiting the vehicle.

Paradise Cove was precisely that, a picturesque beach situated just off of the Pacific Coast Highway with towering sandstone cliffs that made it feel as if you were in a whole other world. Given that it was a Tuesday afternoon, the beach was virtually vacant, which was precisely what you had desired. You needed a few moments to decompress and rid some of the clutter that had taken up residence inside of your head. Slipping out of your patent leather pumps, you relished in the warmth that surrounded your toes as you took your first steps onto the golden sand. Your hometown was a small coastal community so, naturally, you were a sea lover by heart. It saddened you that in the year and a half since moving out to California, you could count on one hand how many times you got to have a beach day. Making a mental note to work on actually having a life outside of the office, you gathered your shoes in one hand and followed the sound of the waves crashing against the shore until you were right where the land and sea meet. Tilting your head towards the infinite blue sky, you inhaled the salty air and allowed the warm breeze to cascade all around you. Nothing but the sound of the waves and the seagulls screeching as you shut your eyes and lived in the moment.

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as you walked along the pristine shoreline. Nearly an hour had passed since Reggie dropped you off, yet you couldn't get enough. Every way you veered, your eyes discovered something new. A few more people had wandered out by this point, yet the calmness remained. You watched as children created sandcastles, and splashed to their heart's content in the majestic blue waters. Not wanting to wander too deep into the unknown, you decided to turn around and go back the way you came. It was then that your eyes landed on him. You didn't recall seeing him previously, so you figured that he couldn't have been sat there long. He looked to be about your age with grey, almost silver-hued hair that was fashioned in an odd cut. In all honesty, the style would likely look hideous on anyone else, but he pulled it off. From your view, you also happened to notice that he had a multitude of piercings adorning his ears, and some type of slit going through one eyebrow it appeared. Again, you thought of just how unflattering that would look on anyone else. Yet, here, this guy was making it work. Really making it work. You contemplated getting closer to where he sat, maybe even striking up a conversation, but what would you even say. ’Nice weather we’re having?’

Aside from that, the fact that he was alone was a good indication that he had come out here with intentions similar to your own. For peace or quite, perhaps, both. He appeared to be rooted in thought and clearly focused on what he was doing. A notebook was his primary focal point, and you watched as he scribbled word after word inside of the book. He seemed to be on a roll, and the last thing you wanted was to be some random chick disturbing his focus. So, you decided that you’d just continue to admire from afar until you passed him. No harm in just looking, right? As long as you kept it discrete and didn't give off any grade-A creeper vibes, it’d be fine. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that, for some reason, this complete stranger felt familiar to you. He had this aura about him, and you racked your brain trying to place his face but kept coming up blank. As your feet drew you closer to where he sat, you struggled to fix your eyes on something else. Anything else. But, nothing quite caught your attention like him. Deciding that you had about one more quick look left before you would appear completely stalker-ish, you glimpsed back at the boy one final time, only this time he was gazing right back with a knowing smile.

You completely stopped moving at the sight as if somehow standing still would make you invisible, but no. Red leaked into your cheeks as you nervously mirrored his captivating smile, and even braved casting a small wave in this direction, to which he thankfully returned. How embarrassing would it have been if he were looking at someone else? You mused as your mind became momentarily distracted, thinking up all types of worse case scenarios. Peering over at the boy once more, you were shocked to see that he had shifted his positioning slightly and made just enough space on the beach towel for one more. For the second time in mere minutes,  the two of you locked eyes as he motioned for you to come and join him. Were you really going to just waltz on over and sit near a man that you knew absolutely nothing about? Yes, that was precisely what you were going to do. The image of Reggie giving you his ‘don’t talk to strangers’ lecture replayed in your head on a loop as you made your way over to the boy. You cautiously sat down beside the stranger, attempting to keep as much distance in-between the two of you as possible, which proved to be no small feat considering that the beach towel was intended for one. You could feel the awkward level rising as neither of you spoke a word, just sat there staring at each other with matching smiles and curious features.

“I’m Hongjoong.” he finally voiced after a few more seconds of silence. The sound of his voice was even better than you had thought it would be. You could sense that English wasn’t his native tongue, but at that moment, you could have sworn that the boy had invented the entire English language all by himself. 

“I’m Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you, Hongjoong,” you uttered nervously. Being this close to him was making you feel all mushy inside, and it was taking every fiber in your being to keep your shit together. The last thing you wanted was to create a complete fool of yourself.

After the initial awkwardness had worn off, the conversation between the two of you flowed seamlessly. Hongjoong was so animated and passionate with his words, and you quickly found yourself hanging onto every single one. Though you hadn’t known the man for long, you had already reached one conclusion, he was magnificent. You opened up and shared parts of yourself that had been locked away for years with Hongjoong because, for some reason, you felt as if you’d known him your entire life. He assured you that the feeling was mutual as you both revealed more than you probably should have considering you’d just met. Hongjoong had even let you in on why he had chosen to spend his day off at the beach, stating that he was in search of inspiration. Though the two of you never discussed your careers, you did discover that the notebook you’d seen him writing in were lyrics that he had composed. He briefly mentioned that his reasoning for being in the US was for business, so you just assumed that he was a songwriter or something along those lines. The sound of your phone ringing interrupted your conversation with Hongjoong, and you cast an apologetic look his way as you searched your purse for the device. 

[ 1 Missed Call - Reg (Papa Bear) ]

“Wow, the time. Have we really been talking for over two hours? My co-worker probably thinks that I got swept away at sea by now.” you giggled.

The comment elicited a chorus of cackles from Hongjoong, and it was at that moment you realized just how much you adored his laugh.

“I can’t believe it either. Time goes fast when you’re in the best company!” Hongjoong proclaimed while pulling out his own device and checking the time.

“I was wondering if-” he started but then stopped just as quickly with his eyebrows furrowing slightly. You could sense that he was perhaps anxious about something, but you weren’t sure what it could be. He laughed somewhat and subtly scratched the back of his neck with one hand while outstretching his other that contained his cell phone to you. Oh, that explains the sudden rush of nervousness. You knew that you wanted to see Hongjoong again, but you didn’t want to be the one who initiated the whole number exchange, so you were more than thrilled that he went for it. With an even more full grin, you grabbed the device and handed over yours so that he could do the same. The minute your device was back in your hands, it started ringing again. You were seriously going to blast Reggie later on for cockblocking you not once, but twice. Not wanting your time with Hongjoong to come to an end you ignored the call and slipped your phone back into your purse, Reggie was going to have to wait for a little longer. When you looked back up, Hongjoong’s eyes were already fixed on you. A few moments of silence passed, but unlike the beginning of your conversation, this silence was comfortable. When your phone began blaring once again, you knew that, unfortunately, you would have to leave and rejoin the real world. Sitting along the shore with the wind in your hair conversing with the most attractive man you’d ever encountered, felt like a dream. One that you never wanted to wake up from. The look in his eyes mimicked your own, and you prayed to all the gods that this wouldn’t be the end of your story with Hongjoong. 

“That’s work that keeps calling... I was meant to be back awhile ago, but I- I honestly didn’t want this moment to end. Thank you for this Hongjoong, it’s just what I needed. I’ve enjoyed getting to know snippets about you.” you expressed. The vibrant smile that etched its way upon his features let you know that your words were well received and reciprocated.

“No, thank you. Y/N. I came here hoping for inspiration, and now I have more than I could imagine. All because of you. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to sit and talk with someone about all different things. Things that I don’t usually share.” Hongjoong cooed as he cautiously reached for your hand and lifted it up to his lips. He then proceeded to place a feather-light kiss upon the back of your hand, all while never breaking eye contact. This man was going to ruin you, and you were completely okay with that.  

“I have a hectic schedule coming up, but I will call, okay? I’ll find the time.” Hongjoong expressed while pulling you in for an embrace. You weren’t expecting the hug but welcomed it gladly as you wrapped your arms around his frame and simply just took pleasure in the final moments that you two would share until the next time. God, you hoped for the next time to come sooner rather than later. You simply nodded along as he spoke the words directly into your ear and squeezed you a little tighter as his tongue rolled over each syllable. You knew from past experiences how daft it was to put so much faith in a man, especially one that you had just met, but the words didn’t seem contrived or untrue coming from Hongjoong. He said he’d call, and you believed him. 

Even if all you and Hongjoong were meant to have was this moment, the memory of being in his arms and the incredibly unexpected yet unusual time that the two of you had shared would never leave you.