#Band Aid 30

[artjipson]

Video of The Day: Band Aid - Do They Know It's Christmas

In popular music, certain songs become more than there frames of sound to become cultural phenomena. Band Aid’s “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” is undeniably one such song. Released in 1984, this track emerged as a powerful anthem of compassion and a call to action, rallying the global community to address the famine crisis in Ethiopia. On Christmas Day, 2023, we explore the genesis of the…

[nonenglishsongs]

Non-English Songs Celebrates Christmas #9 | Band Aid 30 - Noël est là (Do They Know It's Christmas?) (French)

[farmer-attorney-at-law]

I have many thoughts about Meliora as a city but no time and little artistic ability and it's IRRITATING ME

[stabby-pal]

It’s so annoying because autistic and a punk fan because if I go to a live show and don’t wear earplugs I’ll shrivel up like a fucking raisin and turn to dust

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Wham! - Everything She Wants 1984

Wham! were a British pop duo formed in 1981, consisting of singer-songwriter George Michael and instrumentalist Andrew Ridgeley. They were one of the most successful pop acts during the 1980s, selling more than 30 million certified records worldwide from 1982 to 1986, and some of their most famous hits are "Last Christmas", "Careless Whisper" and "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go". George Michael was posthumously inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as a solo artist in November 2023, with Andrew Ridgeley as the induction presenter.

"Everything She Wants" was originally released as a single in 1984 on a double A-side with "Last Christmas". Upon release, "Last Christmas" took the majority of the attention and airplay as it was appropriate in early December as Christmas approached. However, the presence of an equally-billed flip side meant that radio stations had something else to play once "Last Christmas" had lost its seasonal topicality.

The presence of the Band Aid project meant that the double A-side peaked at number two in the UK Singles Chart, although in the process it became the biggest-selling record not to get to number one. However, in the USA, the song did reach number one on the Billboard Hot 100, and became the third number-one song in a row from 1984's Make It Big album. Wham! had two more number-one hits in the UK before splitting at their height in 1986.

Although George Michael bemoaned much of Wham!'s material as he began his solo career, "Everything She Wants" remained a song of which he was proud, and he continued to perform it in his shows. Furthermore, he remarked in an interview (to promote 25 Live tour) that "Everything She Wants" was his favourite Wham! song.

In 1997, the song was remixed and re-released as "Everything She Wants '97" for the greatest hits album The Best of Wham!: If You Were There….

"Everything She Wants" was featured on the official soundtrack album to the 2019 film Last Christmas, and was also featured in the 2013 video game Grand Theft Auto V on the in-game radio station Non-Stop Pop FM.

"Everything She Wants" received a total of 61,1% yes votes! George Michael has previously been featured on the poll with the Stevie Wonder cover "As" at #62, together with Mary J. Blige.

[jamieontheroof]

Random things I noticed while playing What Remains Of Edith Finch

There was a poster of the cannery that Lewis worked at on the boat.

2. Edith Jr wears what appears to be an engagement on a necklace. Whether this is her ring or her mothers is not mentioned.

3. At the start of the game, Milton's missing posters are EVERYWHERE. There is even a giant pile of them in a nearby lake.

4. The dragon slide that crushed and killed Sven is still outside.

5. As you walk toward the house, the music gets louder.

6. The swing that Calvin flew off decades ago is still looped around the branch.

7. There was a spare peep hole in the garage that didn't have any names or dates on it.

8. At multiple points throughout the game you can hear a train in the background, despite the fact that the train tracks are clearly destroyed.

9. There are multiple pots throughout the Finch house that looks like they have eyes.

10. One of the books the Finches possessed was 'King in Yellow', a book known for making anyone who read it insane.

11. The house sounds alive, or like there are people constantly moving around it.

12. Walters bedroom is painted with both ocean and train designs. One of the paintings is the old house that Odin tried to bring to America.

13. There are drag marks on the ground of Walters bedroom (most likely made when his drawers were taken out of his room.)

14. The entrance to the tunnels is hidden by a book called 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, a classic sci-fi story about a sea monster.

15. Molly's room is filled entirely with animal books.

16. There is a jelly fish on Molly's bed (possible connection to the monster??).

17. Molly has a chalkboard in her bedroom where she is a princess in an underwater castle and Sven is about to get attacked by a sea monster (slightly resembling the dragon slide).

18. As shark!Molly starts falling down the cliff, she passes a road where headlights are briefly scene.

19. When the monster gets back to Molly's room, the window that cat!Molly jumped through is still open.

20. There are still Christmas decorations in Molly's room.

21. The curse is 500 years old. That is a lot of dead people.

22. In Odin's viewfinder, it states "His [Odin's] daughter, Edie, is already dreaming of new Finch house" showing that even though her own father died not even a week ago, Edie has already moved on.

23. The house is filled head to toe with books about death, including two that Odin wrote.

24. Sven's shrine does not have a log painting like the rest of the family. His portrait is painted on a simple canvas.

25. Edie has a number of strange tapes in her room including one titled "conspiracy now".

26. The toys from Gregory's final bath are still in the bathroom.

27. There is an old bottle of alcohol in the bathroom bin.

28. A lot of Sam's photos are based on Calvin (a swing, astronauts).

29. All of Milton's drawings are based on the death. (Molly = cat, Barbara = pumpkin)

30. There are cigarettes and gin on Sam's side of the room he shared with Calvin.

31. Calvin already had bruises, Band-Aids and a cast on his leg when he died.

32. Sam blames himself for challenging Calvin.

33. In the story, Calvin doesn't fall. He keeps flying.

34. Barbara's birthday cake is still in her room.

35. Barbara is holding crutches in her portrait.

36. There are totem-esc styles statues of both Calvin and Molly

37. Barbara's outfit is over the railing.

This is the same way the Hook-Man falls

38. "Performance of her life" can also mean that it is the performance she is known for.

39. There are spare portrait logs in the basement.

40. There is a fake window in the basement.

41. Edie's grave is finished despite her dying and then nobody else going to the house.

42. There is no grave for Milton.

43. Lewis' grave has a crown on it.

44. There are times wear it seems like you can hear sobbing (this one may just be me).

45. There is a box of Kay's old stuff in Sam's bedroom.

46. Odin has a park named after him.

47. This isn't a fact but I think this may be one of the funniest photos of the game (LIKE SIR? YOUR DAUGHTER IS SOBBING!).

48. Both Calvin and Dawn are on Sam's shrine.

49. Gus has a skateboard over his name.

50. Gregory has the soap bottle from his final bath in his shrine.

51. The music cuts out when Gregory isn't moving.

52. Same also blames himself for Gregory.

53. Gus never met his step mother.

54. Gus was crushed by the (totem) statues of his deceased relatives.

55. Dawn's light switch is the only one on

56. Most of the rules are about past deaths. (No playing outside without permission : Calvin, No answering door for strangers : Barbara, No messes after dark : Molly (???)).

57. Milton's garden has a castle (reference to the Unfinished Swan)

58. There is a small Sanjay shrine in the classroom

59. Edith JR did an assignment on her family history.

60. Lewis drew on his desk.

61. There is no death date for Milton on his peephole.

62. Edith JR wrote Milton's death date as 2003 (the year he disappeared).

63. The door from the flip book is in Milton's room.

64. Lewis' dream Palace is decorated with fish.

65. The gnomes scattered around the house are outside the original house in Edie's story.

66. The credits roll in reverse order.

AND THAT'S IT!! I had a few others I thought didn't need to go in.

[caldrea]

my zero day headcanons ★

andre is a huge internet troll, but he’s also very easily baited by other internet trolls

cal can sneeze with his eyes opened

andre is a chronic pacer

cal snorts a bit when he laughs, but only when he finds something truly hilarious 

cal used to hide the regular, boring band-aids so his mom would have to give him the winnie the pooh ones

andre is terrified of spiders. he barely goes into his basement because he is so scared of them even though he’s never actually seen a spider in the basement

cal has a teddybear that he cannot sleep without.

andre hates drains. so much. if he looks at them (or even thinks about them) for too long, he will feel sick

one time cal dared him to lick the drain in his bathtub. andre did it because he isn’t a pussy but he never forgave cal and holds a grudge.

andre can never turn down a dare. cal uses it to his advantage. andre will complain the whole time he does the dare and then not talk to cal for at least 30 minutes.

cal has asthma. the first time he took too big of a toke of a blunt, andre had to frantically look for his inhaler because cal was busy coughing and not being able to breath.

cal loves socks. he wears them all the time because his feet are always cold. he sleeps in them, and has certain socks that he can only wear on his bed.

andre is such an asshole to share a bed with. he takes up the whole bed.

cal is also an asshole to share a bed with. he is the worst blanket hog ever. even when andre gets his own blanket, he wakes up in the middle of the night freezing because cal also stole that blanket from him

they only sleep peacefully when cal lies on top of andre because andre can’t move and the blankets cover both of them

cal bites his nails until they’re bleeding. he tried painting them to stop but it doesn’t do anything but make him grimace at the taste

andre loves doing the crosswords on newspapers

cal used to have trouble pronouncing his r’s

cal is freakishly good at jumping rope

andre sticks his tongue out when he’s really focused on something and his brows get a bit furrowed

andre knows a bunch of magic tricks. when he first met cal’s siblings, he didn’t know how to interact with them so he would show them his magic tricks. whenever he went to cal’s house, he would show them a new one before he left.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

I’m loving so much the new disowned verse omg, it is so good, you are a genius.

But I’m curious, how did reader and jason met?

The apartment was in a cracker box of a building with thin walls. His neighbors were a young couple that fought about money 25/8 and an elderly 'Nam Vet who liked his porno but- he could cope.

It was different than Gotham. There weren't constant gunshots. And that was weird. But. He knew better than to think his PI license wouldn't make him some money. Even out in the sticks. There was always a contentious divorce. There was always something not quite right. Cops in over their heads.

And he'd have down time. He could read. Work on his bike. Fuck. Maybe even actually go see a movie... Sure. He knew eventually he'd get bored but. For now, he was looking forward to it.

He shut the door and locked it behind him, frowning just slightly and making a note to get a better lock while he was out. He doubted he could find anything super great in town- he'd probably have to order something but. He'd passed a hardware store in town so... it might be worth checking out. If he made friends with the old guy that probably ran it he could probably get some special orders if he needed it.

So he set off that direction, wandering on foot down the sidewalks and taking note of the other houses. It was the middle of the afternoon. And the lunch whistles at the old factory still sounded at nood and then 30 minutes later. Tucked away from the tree-lined main drag, the houses back here varied from run down to better homes and gardens.

That tracked.

They got better closer to the front. The older show homes outweighed the eyesores. American primitive lawn decor. A surprising number of pineapples- and he snorted, wondering if it had come from a big box store or if it was a signal. Or both.

Still.

By the time he made it to the hardware store, he was reasonably certain he could stay busy. All was not as Leave it to Beaver as the Town Council would have you believe. And the first place he was gonna leave a flyer was in the beauty shop. Those old biddies HAD to have some shit to stir up.

He shouldered the door open and a bell, an actual bell, chimed. And he smiled a little taking a deep breath. The smell of dust, tools, and old well-maintained wood hit his nose and he exhaled. Definitely not going to find any high tech locks here. But, he had a soft spot for independent shops.

"Be with you in a minute!"

The voice made him jump. Not the gruff voice of a grumpy old fuck he expected. And it made him search of the source. Curious. "No worries," he said, walking a little farther towards where he'd heard it. Finding a young woman on a ladder stocking some boxes of bolts on a shelf. A pink canvas gardening apron tied around her hips to hold more boxes. "You got door locks?" he asked.

"Aisle 5 next to the paver catalogs," you tell him, steadying yourself so you can turn and glance down at him.

"Perfect," he said, "Thanks."

"Mhm, let me know if you need anything else," you tell him.

Jason paused and looked around, "Think you can put a tool box together for me I just moved and-"

"Ah, yeah. One Bachelor special," you tell him," Jumping down from the ladder, "I think I can get you fixed up. At least enough to get you started. You'll be smashing your thumbs in no time."

"Got a first aid kit too?"

"Right up at the counter," you snort. "But if you want anything special, you gotta see Adam at the Pharmacy. Mine are pretty basic."

"I can deal with basic- at least until you sell me a band saw-"

"Oh lord."

[missjomarch]

Josephine - Luke Hughes

A/N: This is the longest thing I have ever written. Like actually. I heard the song Josephine by Pony Bradshaw and my brain was begging me to do something creative with it, so I wrote this. But I'm on my period so it turned very sad and angsty quickly. So now you all get to suffer along with me! With that said please please read the warnings and if at any point you feel uncomfortable click away.

Word Count: 3.7k 😳

Warnings: Grief and angst with no real happy ending or comfort. Cursing, crying, mentions of blood and pain. A half second on 18+ content but no explicit details.

(Portions in italics are flash backs. Enjoy, lovelies. 🫶)

Luke Hughes sat sprawled in one of the cushioned armchairs spaced across the rooftop bar the New Jersey Devils currently resided on. His view of the New York skyline was fuzzy, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the beer in his left hand or the smoke from the joint in his right. The one thing he was sure of was that he didn’t want to be here, and he damn sure didn’t want to be sober. Luke could feel the pitying looks from his brother and captain all the way across the bar, but at least they hadn’t made any comments tonight. 

The team had won the game earlier in the day by a large margin and Luke wasn’t beating himself up over minuscule mistakes like he used to. No, that wasn’t the issue. In fact, Luke was playing some of the best hockey he had in years. His on-ice performance was probably the only reason he was even still on the team, considering that he had been skipping most morning skates and all public appearances for the past few weeks. 

He had seen the therapist the team provided and taken the weeks off that the trainers had suggested, so he isn’t sure why they insist on continually doing mental checkups on him. It was irritating. Especially when he didn’t give them the answers they wanted, so they sent Jack to pester him instead. All it did was remind him of you. 

“Luke.” 

His head snapped towards where you sat in the passenger seat of his car, eyes shining and a soft smile on your lips. 

“The light has been green for like 30 seconds, babe. What’s going on in that pretty head, hm?” 

Luke always swore that your sweet voice could melt 20 feet of snow in the dead of winter. It was like coming home from a long day to a warm house. It was one of his favorite things about you. So, because he knew you’d ask the question again, he simply shrugged his shoulders in response. He fully planned to keep his troubles to himself in an attempt not to worry you, but then your manicured hand was running through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Tell me about it, Lu. What’s wrong?” 

With your use of the nickname, he was gone. Suddenly all the world’s problems were spilling from his lips, and he couldn’t stop them even if he wanted to. You tended to have that effect on people. You were just so damn easy to talk to. And the best part? You almost always knew how to make it better. A quick kiss and a Band-Aid, and Luke was back on his way with a smile. 

“Luke,” you mumbled, “Luke…” 

“Luke.” 

Jack stood in front of his brother, shaking his shoulder to break him from his trance. 

“You okay?” Jack questioned, not missing the shine in Luke’s eyes as they were torn from the skyline view. He watched as Luke took a deep drag from the joint in his hand, exhaling the smoke as he attempted to clear the lump from his throat. 

“Fine, Jack.” 

“Bullshit,” Jack couldn’t help the scoff he let out, “Get up, we’re going home.” 

Luke didn’t have it in him to argue. Not that he would have, anyway. He never wanted to leave the house in the first place, especially after the situation Jack got him into the last time they had gone out. 2 months ago, his brother had dragged him to this same rooftop bar insisting that it’d be good for him to get out there again. It took all of 30 minutes before Jack was pushing Luke in the direction of a random girl. “A good fuck will fix you right up”, Jack had claimed. 

“Luuuuke,” the girl below him moaned as he kissed down her neck. He didn’t know her name, didn’t particularly care to either. He was a bit too busy resenting his brother for setting him up with this random girl in the first place. 

He tried to ignore the hot anger flowing through him, tried to focus on the heavy breathing of the blonde and the way her nails were raking down his back. Luke’s hands dipped under her shirt, quickly finding her bra and giving it a harsh tug downwards. His fingers fumbled deftly until they gripped her tits, drawing a sharp gasp from the girl. 

“Oh! Lu, please,” she whined. When he didn’t respond, she went to pull his face to hers. But Luke had froze, brain short circuiting at the nickname he hadn’t heard in over 8 months. 

His throat was burning. His breath turned ragged as he yanked his hands from beneath her shirt. He stared at her with wild eyes, chest heaving. 

“Get out,” he ground out. His heart was pounding. What was wrong with him? 

“Are you okay?” The blond started back at him with a horrified expression, and Luke had to bite his tongue to keep from spitting out any malicious words. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Leave, please.” He begged, unable to look her in the face.

“Luke, I don’t understand,” she tried to reason, “Luke…” 

“Luke.” 

Jack was looking at him expectantly from the driver’s side of his sleek BMW as he navigated the late-night New Jersey traffic. Luke blinked slowly, trying to clear the bitter memory from his foggy mind. 

“Sorry, what’d you say?” Luke questioned, choosing to ignore the concern blaring in his brother’s eyes. Jack seemingly decided to let it be, instead jumping back into whatever he originally asked. 

“I was asking if you thought the stadium series would be a good time to introduce Sydney to mom and dad? I know it’s only been a few months, but I don’t know when they’ll be in town again.” 

Luke nodded, “Are you just going to do it at dinner? Or the hotel?” 

Jack hesitated, clearly contemplating the options before lighting up, “What if I brought her to the family skate? She’s been wanting to learn anyways! It be just like when you brought jo-” Jack choked on his words, immediately recognizing his mistake. He turned towards his brother, attempting to get a read on his face in the dim light of the passing streetlamps. But Luke had already shut down, face turned to stare blankly out the window. 

Jack reached over to give a comforting squeezing to Luke’s left shoulder, “Luke.” 

“LUKE!” you squealed as your hands white knuckled his sweatshirt. He giggled at your skating stance before pulling you to his chest. 

“You alright there, Bambi?” He smirked down at you as you sent him a glare. 

“I’m new to this, asshole. It’s not my fault my teacher is no good,” you threw back at him. It was your turn to smirk as Luke’s mouth hung open in mock offense. 

“I’ll have you know that I’ve taught hundreds of kids across the state of New Jersey how to properly skate.” 

“Those poor kids,” you quickly retorted, sticking your tongue out as he scowled at you. However, that scowl quickly faded into a look of mischief and your face dropped as his arms loosened around you.

“Fine. Suit yourself, Bambi.” Luke let you go, giving you the lightest of shoves backwards. Then you were stranded. Forced to watch as your boyfriend skated backwards away from you, leaving you wide eyed and terrified as you froze on the ice. Your fear quickly turned to anger, and Luke marked the shift in your demeanor with a laugh. 

“Luke Warren Hughes, you come back here and get me right now.” 

“Nope. Come and get me, baby.” Luke winked at you as he skated past, only serving to further frustrate you. You’d never admit that his plan was working, but the anger was motivating. You let out a strangled groan before starting to shuffle forward, sliding your skates like Luke taught you. You were doing well for a while, slowly making your way towards where Luke was taunting you from the boards behind the net. That was until two kids flew past you, knocking you off balance and sending you scrambling to regain it. 

“Luke! Luke, Luke, Luke,” you called, too focused on your slipping feet to notice if your boyfriend was coming to your aid. Then you lost balance completely, tumbling down towards the ice. You closed your eyes as you avoided flinging your arms out to catch yourself, still heeding Luke’s warnings even as he got you in this mess in the first place. You prepared yourself for the cold hard burn of your backside hitting the ice, but it never came. Instead you landed in a pair of unfamiliar arms, barely recognizing that you weren’t on the ground before being hauled to a standing position. You carefully turned around and were met with Jack’s smiling face. 

“Knight in shining armor, at your service,” Jack grinned, adding a small salute for effect. You rolled your eyes, scanning the ice for Luke. 

“How long have you been following behind me?” 

“Ever since Luke pretended to leave you stranded. He planned the whole thing, I was behind you the entire time to save you from your inevitable demise,” Jack poked you, smile growing impossibly wider at the annoyed look gracing your face. 

“Big words for someone who never went to college,” you shot at him, needing anything to level the playing field between you. It was then that Luke finally returned, skating to a smooth stop to your left. 

“What’d I miss?” 

“Your girlfriend was insulting my intelligence after I graciously saved her precious be-hind,” Jack spoke, adding a bit more than his usual sassiness into the bit. Luke turned to tsk at you. 

“Now, now baby. We can’t make fun of people just because they’re less fortunate than us. It’s not Jacky’s fault he’s stupid,” Luke joked, loving the way your eyes lit up when you realized that he was joining your side. Jack, however, stood slack jawed across from you. 

“Now what the hell, Luke? I went along with your little plan, and this is how you repay me?” You and Luke just blinked at him, silly little grins sitting on your face. “Go to hell, both of you,” Jack scoffed before skating off. Once he was gone, you turned towards your boyfriend. Your pout returned, but it was quickly kissed away. 

“I promised you I’d never let you fall, baby. I just never said it’d be me who caught you.” 

You scowled, “you’re such a smart ass.” 

“Love you too, Princess,” Luke grinned. You begrudgingly allowed him to pull you into his chest, the warmth he radiated melting the glare right off your face. 

You turned your head to press a kiss into his jacket-clad chest, right over his heart. A warm smile graced your lips, “I love you, Lukey.” 

“Lukey!”

John Marino stood before him on the ice, stick poised to do the defensive drill coach had instructed them on. 

“You’re out of it today, kid. Are we going to do this drill or not?” 

“Yeah, my bad. Let’s go,” Luke nodded his head, once again trying to shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He had just barely cleared his vision before the puck was dropped, and John was racing towards him. Practice continued like that, Luke losing focus periodically until one of his teammates pulled him back into the moment. 

When he trudged into the locker room an hour later, he was more than ready to go home. These were usually the days he would most appreciate having you to come home to. Leaving a hard practice and coming home to fall asleep in your arms was the best feeling. He tried not to think too much about the gaping hole that memory left in his chest as he untied his skates. 

Once he was dressed in his sweats he rushed from the locker room, hoping to escape the arena before anyone could question his mental wellbeing. Luke made it to the car without any hounding from the guys or trainers, but he had to wait for what felt like an eternity before Jack finally made his way into the parking garage. 

“What the hell took you so long?” Luke questioned, hopping into the passenger seat as Jack unlocked the car doors. 

“Coach wanted to talk to me for a second. You could’ve gotten the keys from my bag, yknow.”

“Yeah, but then I would’ve been tempted to leave you here,” Luke smirked at his brother. 

Jack only rolled his eyes, all too familiar with Luke’s teasing. His mind swirled with the reminders his coach had left him with after their brief post-practice discussion. Coach was getting extremely concerned about Luke and the lack of focus he displayed at practice and games. Jack was also concerned, and so was most of the team. He knew he should bring it up, but the joy in Luke’s eyes was so rare these days that Jack couldn’t bring himself to disturb it. He just wanted to support his brother the best he could, but Luke wouldn’t open up to him. Or anyone, for that matter. Not his mom, not Quinn, not even his old teammates from Michigan. Luke wouldn’t talk to anyone about you.  So Jack took what Luke gave him. Watching late night hockey, Door Dashing dinner, or playing video games for hours on end. Anything to keep his brother occupied, and make him realize that he wasn’t alone. 

Luke finally made his way into his room at 11 pm later that night, feeling relatively okay after eating dinner and watching a Canucks game with Jack. He had felt so unlike himself lately that any small reprieve from reality was a welcomed gift. He also knew that it helped Jack worry about him just a little bit less. 

Luke had just turned out his bathroom light after brushing his teeth when his door creaked open, revealing Jack standing in the doorway. It wasn’t unusual for Jack to check on him before bed, but it had recently become more frequent. 

“You good to leave for practice at 8 tomorrow?” Jack questioned. 

Luke nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be up.” 

“Better be. I’m not in the mood to drag your ass out of bed in the morning.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but the wary look on Jack’s face made him hold his tongue on the snarky response he was about to shoot back. 

“Promise, I’ll be good to go at 8.”       

Jack deemed that a good enough answer, and went to shut the door.

“Alright. Night, Luke.” 

“Luke…” you shakily whispered on the phone. Your voice was wobbly and high pitched, the tears streaming down your face evident in your tone. 

“Baby?” Luke spoke into the phone, “What’s wrong?” 

It was an hour and a half until puck drop, and you should’ve been on your way to the stadium by now. Luke’s furrowed brows caught the attention of Jack in the next stall over, stopping his movements from where he was lacing up his skates. 

“I was on my way to the arena, and I…” a broken sob escaped your mouth, startling Luke as he tried to fathom what could’ve possibly happened after he left the house. 

 “Someone hit me.” 

Luke jumped to his feet, “What do you mean hit you? What happened?” 

“I don’t know. Someone ran a red light or something and they hit my car. I think I spun into a pole,” your breath was growing ragged as you recited the wreck. 

“Are you okay? Where are you? I’m coming to get you,” Luke rushed out as he began grabbing his clothes back out of his bag. Half the locker room was staring now, all with varying looks of concern. 

“I don’t know what to do. I’m bleeding,” you squeaked. “Lukey, there’s so much blood.”              

This sent Luke into a panic. He was stripping his gear as fast as humanly possible while simultaneously yelling at Jack to give him to car keys. Jack’s concerns fell on deaf ears as Luke undressed, and he finally decided that following Luke was the safest option. 

“No. You’re okay, baby. I just need you to tell me where you are, okay? I’ll be there so soon, just tell me where,” Luke begged. He knew logically that the cops would arrive before he could, but he needed to be there with you. 

“Don’t know. But my head hurts so bad,” you whimpered out. Luke tried to ignore the way he could hear your voice weakening as you spoke. 

“Just stay on the phone with me, love. I’m on my way to come get you, yeah?”

Luke tried to reassure you as he shoved his feet into his shoes and rushed from the locker room. Jack was hot on his tail, car keys in hand. 

“ ‘m sorry, Lu,” your whisper was barely heard by Luke as he sprinted down the hallways of Prudential Center. 

“For what, love?” 

“I wanted to be at your game tonight,” you mumbled. 

“It’s fine, baby. There’ll be a million more games for you to come to, yeah?” 

Luke attempted to comfort you as he searched for your location, plugging it into the GPS as Jack pulled out of the parking garage. Luke could only hope the pregame traffic wouldn’t get in the way. 

“Mhmm. Lukey?” 

“Yeah, baby?” 

Your voice was barely a whisper, “I love you.” 

Luke swore he could feel his heart shatter at the crack in your voice. There were tears streaming from his face as he pushed Jack to drive faster. 

“I love you too, princess. So much. Jacky and I are going to be there so soon. I just need you to hang on for a few minutes. Can you do that for me?” 

Luke’s voice was frantic and only grew more so when he heard your phone tumbling out of your hand. 

“Baby? You’ve gotta stay awake, okay?” Luke pleaded, as tears streamed down his face. His hands shook where he held the phone to his ear. 

“Baby? Please tell me you’re okay. I just need you to say something.” 

Luke’s begging continued until the line went dead. 

“Fuck,” Luke muttered, sobs beginning to wrack his body. Jack looked at him frantically as he continued to navigate the streets of New Jersey. 

“Luke? What the hell happened?” Jack kept spitting questions, but he might as well have been talking to a brick wall. “Snap out of it, Luke.” 

“Luke.” 

Luke awoke to Jack shaking him violently, and he tasted the salty tears streaming down his face before he felt them. ‘No. Not again,’  Luke thought. He shot up in bed, sending Jack scrambling backwards to avoid knocking heads. Luke’s head whipped back and forth wildly as his eyes searched the room. ‘Please, please, please,’ he begged the universe. He ignored the way his brain reminded him of the truth, ignored his brother’s pitying look, ignored the cold bed beside him where you should’ve been. It was if the whole world was pointing and laughing at his grieving heart. ‘Look at this idiot,’ they all seemed to say, ‘He still thinks he can save her.’ 

“Fuck,” Luke exhaled, finally giving up his futile attempts at disproving what he knew was his reality. 

Jack stared as his younger brother lost himself to grief once again. Watching as Luke’s hands disappeared into his curls, head bowed as sob after sob wracked his body. Jack felt helpless knowing he couldn’t take this pain from his little brother. All he could do was hold him and promise to be there through it all. 

“I can’t keep doing this,” Luke whispered into Jack’s shoulder. “Every time I wake up, I lose her all over again, and I can’t do it anymore.” 

Jack hesitates, unsure exactly what to say in this situation. You were always the one with the best advice, the one who could handle anything. 

“We’re going to get you through this, okay? You’re not alone in fighting this,” Jack paused, contemplating how to suggest his next thought. “I know you think you’re fine, but I really think you need help Luke. She would want you to get help.” 

Luke nodded, knowing his brother was right. You would hate to see him like this. Ever the caretaker, you had always been the first person to chastise him for not taking proper care of his mental health during hockey season. If you saw him like this, you’d pull him into your arms and then absolutely rip him a new one until he promised to take care of himself. 

“I know,” Luke mumbled, “I’ll start seeing a therapist. I think I need to step away from hockey for a bit too. It’s not fair to the guys that my mental health is affecting the team performance.” 

“I think that’s smart,” Jack agreed. “The guys might not understand what you’re going through, but they know it’s not your fault Luke. They want you to get better too.” 

Luke could only nod, trying to accept Jack’s words as the truth and fight the part of his brain that was saying this was all his fault. Luke was so tired, but he wasn’t willing to go back to sleep when he knew memories of you was what awaited him. 

“I’ll call the trainers tomorrow. I don’t really want to go back to sleep, can we watch a movie or something?” 

“Of course,” Jack agreed, despite the exhaustion weighing him down. “I’ll even let you pick.” 

A slow, knowing grin spread across Luke’s features, “Even Secretariat?” 

Jack’s sigh could be heard all the way in New York, but he smiled nonetheless. Just happy to see that Luke was making small steps towards returning to himself. 

“Even Secretariat.” 

So that’s how Luke and Jack spent their evening, watching movies and eating obscene amounts of popcorn. Luke had smiled to himself for most of the night, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. He knew the process would be slow and that he might never truly get back to ‘normal’. But admitting his pain and asking for help, that was enough for now. 

[hwaightme]

Burning

(masterlist) (taglist)

🔥 pairing: best friend!mingi x gn!reader 🔥 genre: fluff, healing, friends to lovers, slice of life 🔥 summary: down winding roads, through the golden fields and into the shimmering night, you and mingi embark on a journey to live and love once again 🔥 wordcount: 5.5k 🔥 warnings/tags: editing??, language, indie film style, loosely inspired by murakami's 'barn burning' + youth mv, injuries/scabs, band aids/treatment, escapism, restarts, running away, love through hardship, healing, implied trauma, food/eating, reflecting on the past, mingi would do anything for you, arson 🔥 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🔥 a/n: happy birthday to @byuntrash101!! my most wonderful cat, i love you, thank you for every moment and here is to many more <3 hugs to everyone, all reblogs, notes and comments appreciated! 🔥 playlist: the last stop of our pain - hanroro, the setting sun - the poles, bye - car the garden, summer night - jeon jinhee, 14:30 - damons year, silence - sunwoojunga, so life goes on - heo hoy kyung, dear my all - mingginyu

You looked down at your hands, spreading the fingers out and relaxing them again, watching the movement of every line and wrinkle. Band aids bent and took on the shape you commanded; the one in an off-white shade after having taken on the brunt of the physical burdens, - a ring that was wrapped around the middle finger of your right hand was frayed at the edge, having had to through the test of the elements and of haphazard lugging of items in and out of the white car on which you were sitting. The other, skin toned, sturdy and strictly not letting anything dare infect you, hugged the side of the same hand and spread a little to your palm. The markings of a person who ‘could’, and a person who ‘did’. 

Gaze travelling downwards led you to a leather bracelet with a silver charm - a simple accessory, but one that held years of history, meaning and memories that tied you to the original owner. You were never one for big celebrations, having gotten used to treating every day the same as the rest - a uniform, dark reality where you were nothing but a little cog. The only mission you had ever had before this moment was to keep on turning. This bracelet was a promise, and a hope for a new beginning. 

Golden fields and a warm grey sky blending into a hazy blend of yellowish green and burnt sienna. A tired breeze that had long lost its fight reminded you that you could still feel, running through your hair, dancing across your skin. The sweater you had borrowed was much too loose at the shoulders, and thus offered little to no protection from the elements. Nonetheless, the comfort it offered, along with the aroma that had permanently intertwined with the threads of the cotton fabric brought more than enough warmth to your heart, and caused a blush to rise on your cheeks. It was a considerable contrast to your still slightly tear-stained, exhausted eyes around which the signs of last night’s terrors were still remaining. But even then, the despair that had come with the sensation had been washed away by a caring thumb, a loving hand, a single impression that solidified that you were never going to be alone.

You moved to run a finger across the plasters, curious as to how the cuts beneath were healing. Little scars of a warrior. You had fought for your way and for your life and for your right to smile and breathe and enjoy the earthly wonders. The last days before your final decision to escape were somewhat of a whirlwind, tainted by persistent insomnia, demons that haunted you day and night and the yelling of far too many people, projects and parasitic ponderings. Even the things that had been under your control grew minds of their own and searched for ways to destroy you, be it in hiding a mistake in a word, an error in a table or a fiendish administrative problem. Those days were a countdown, until in one last effort to survive, you cried out for salvation and admitted that it was all too much. And in that chaotic flood that was threatening to swallow you whole, one person had been waiting, and before you knew it, you were safe, had someone cheering for you, sharing your anguish.

“Hey don’t do that. We don’t have any band aids left and I’m not about to go Rambo mode and go picking grass to wrap you up,” you turned to follow the sounds of the low, raspy voice, smiling softly as you met your friend’s mildly concerned expression. Black hair, softly tousled; you barely could restrain yourself from reaching out and ruffling those locks. Beauty marks like stars on that wonderful, charming face. Slightly parted lips that appeared to be holding back sagas and everlasting tales. Lips that you could watch move forever.

“It’s fine, Mingi, I was just checking.”

“That was some intense checking you’re doing, refrain from it,” he retorted and crossed his arms while pinching the sleeves of his black knit sweater so as to not let them slide up.

“Says the person who keeps picking at their face like no tomorrow. Without bandages, mind you. At this rate-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll sort myself out, alright?” Mingi winced as his tongue darted to the scabbed over gash on the side of his mouth, making you exhale sharply, bemused. You could sense him taking his words back with a shake of the head. One step back, another, and in a quiet mumble he added: “...at the next rest stop we’ll fuel up the truck, fuel ourselves and maybe get a proper first aid kit.”

“Sounds good.”

Turning one of the many rings on his fingers, your friend could not hold your gaze and resorted to studying the ornate silver patterns and precious embedded stones. It had been the same when he had first offered this way out for you. A man, supposedly tall and impressive in physique, but appearing so small as he stumbled over his words, one idea pouring and drowning another out until they connected like a puzzle and formulated a vision that was somewhat concrete. Though, even if there was no final agreement in his mind, you would have agreed anyway. All that mattered was that each sentence carried a ‘we’. And with that, you were more than happy.

Was it long ago that you had met him? It felt like eternity. You could not imagine any other life, at least not one where you had a chance at happiness. Sure, you had your fights and squabbles. It would be a big lie if you were to say everything was sunshine and rainbows. Both snappy and hot headed at times, you had each said a fair share of things you did not want to say. But it was the awareness and growing from mistakes that had led you to where you were now. You had both walked through some dark times, and ended up in the golden hour, surrounded by an equally glowing expanse of flora, reaping what you two had sowed.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Hm?”

“I don’t get it, I know I have the thing on my cheek but… hate to break it to you, you don’t have healing powers,” ever so logical, Mingi was, once again, trying to establish a chain of thought. You had gotten better at explaining your thinking out loud, as did he, but in times where you were particularly wistful, words escaped you.

“I don’t know…”

“As if I do. Are you hungry?”

“I’m not a cat-”

“Then why?” he chuckled, lips automatically stretching into a toothy grin as you chuckled.

“‘Cause I can.”

“Okay then,” a breath escaped you as you stared at his hand, suddenly falling to meet the car’s surface and looked up to see him leaning over, staring intently at you. Through you. Like he could read you. Any courage you had disappeared, and you shook your head in defeat.

“Fine, fine,” how could someone put into words the feeling of wanting to picture an individual in everything and everyone? 

How could you say that even in the grass that surrounded you, in the long winding roads, in the cloudy skies you were glad to be able to see Mingi. It had been a lifetime indeed. A lifetime of seeing him without realising it, a lifetime of looking forward to being together with him and falling apart when you weren’t, and now, when you were side by side with only the sun, moon and empty fields to bear witness, you were scared to blink. Like all this time would disappear. Priceless seconds. Mingi was merciful enough to note a tinge of nervousness, and backed away. It was obvious enough that he did not quite let your reaction go, but neither you nor him were ever ones to push further than necessary and beyond the other’s personal limits. 

“Right, time to get going if we want to make it to the barn by midnight.”

“Okay.”

“Want to ride in the back or-”

“With you,” you did not mean to sound so ambiguous, but thankfully as Mingi was busy opening the door to the driver’s seat, he did not catch on, or courteously did not pry.

“Ah, you’re right. It’ll be getting cold pretty quickly, won’t it?” 

As if you were not wrapped up and huddled in the bunch of blankets, backpacks and crocheted pillows just last night when you were parked at the last rest stop, silently accepting your friend’s reassurance as you mourned a past you were not going to miss. He knew what you were going through, and so he stuck beside you instead of heading for those plasters when he technically could have. 

“A few hours won’t change these little cuts, but they can change you, and I’d rather be here so you’re not alone.”

The phrase resonated in your heart as you took your place beside Mingi, staring out at the windshield. With a quick glance to your left you could just catch his reflection in the glass, and with another tilt, the man himself. His plush lips, the beautiful curve of his nose, how the black-framed glasses that he had fished out of the cupholder between you suited him so well. Focused, he turned the key until a satisfying rumble consumed the vehicle, signifying its awakening. On instinct, Mingi’s arms flew to their respective positions, and he drove out of the improvised parking spot back out to the infinite line of cement - the one sign of civilization that had the ability to assure you that you were indeed going in the right direction. Since Mingi was familiar with this part of the country, however, you would not have minded even a sudden, more wild change in the scenery. 

Choosing to not surf the radio stations in search of something remotely tolerable, you drove to the sound of your musings and let the last of the grey haze wash over you before the sun that was concealed by the thick cloud would inevitably fall into a slumber. For the first time in a while, you could enjoy the quiet without it being interrupted by a cacophony of inner qualms and disturbing rage. You could catch the occasional note from Mingi’s humming - a habit of his that you had grown to love. Every time, it was something unexpected. Be it a tune he was making up on the spot or one that you were familiar with, you never tired of how his thoughts travelled, and were delighted by the soundtrack which he was subconsciously crafting for the life you just so happened to share. Serendipity, writing a future that Mingi was taking you towards.

The idea he had proposed might have been radical, but it was the only one that made sense. Besides, it was not going to cause any harm. At the end of the day, the property belonged to a distant relative, said relative had no use for it, so… the conclusion and final decision basically made itself. The act to mark an entry into being your new self had to be grand, a lot more grand than what you had already done, and Mingi, being a creative mind, of course could be trusted to invent a performance of the century. Just for you.

A dreamlike day turned into an equally surreal evening as you halted at the gas station attached to the last rest stop of your adventure, with Mingi’s call dragging you out of your thoughts. You confirmed to him that you were fine with a quick smile and followed him out of the trusty Dodge. Patiently, you idled about as Mingi unscrewed the opening to the fuel tank and reached for one of the nozzles, rolling a stray piece of gravel under your shoes. Crickets, a myriad of crickets hidden under the cover of nighttime launched into a crescendo of their trill song, so much so that the buzz of the fluorescent lamp that illuminated the lonely station was almost completely drowned out. A light touch on your upper arm alerted you that Mingi was done, and you promptly followed him to the convenience store.

As though by newly found habit, he gravitated towards the bright red canisters lined up by the register, while you gave him a wary glance before ambling towards the ready to eat meals. Soon enough, Mingi joined you, satisfied by his quick perusal, and with a basket in his hand. Without a word, he picked up your favourite snack and was about to toss it in:

“This one, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

It never failed to be amusing how, despite the innumerable occasions when you two had eaten together, Mingi still liked to check with you that your favourite foods were, in fact, still your favourite foods. You had to admit that it was very endearing and comforting to you. Without even considering it, he always gave you room for change, in every way you could imagine. Or maybe you were exaggerating and letting your fantasies speak for themselves. You could not help but dart your eyes at Mingi when he turned his back to you, spotting the two beaded necklaces you had made for him some time ago still being a part of his usual outfit. And so, you wondered, how large was the room for transformation? What could this brand new future of yours include?

“Ah… wait… band aids… should we get that… What was it? Antiseptic-”

“You said a whole kit.”

“Right. Let’s go try and find it… wait what if they don’t stock one?” eyebrows weighed down with doubt, Mingi looked at you like he was about to apologise. You sighed, moving to run a hand down his back. The gesture startled Mingi, but he did not stop you, instead choosing to wait it out and see your intentions. You noticed him lightly biting his lower lip as he stared back at you, perplexed.

“We’ll find the essentials then. It’s not like we are disappearing from society for the rest of time, yeah?”

“Yeah…” had he continued, you swore he would have expressed his wish for what you had joked about to be the case. Luckily, you were pleasantly surprised by the wide selection of items to pick from, and left confident in the remainder of your trip.

In the fluorescence of the small store, and then inside of the parked car as you devoured your pre-made dinner, you were suspended in pure bliss. To your right was your partner in everything, friend or however your silly racing heart wanted to call him. Above you, the stars - a vista worth driving further out from the rest stop for. Propped up on the cushions, this was your definition of heavenly and healing. Colours had regained their vibrancy, and finally, you were no longer too fatigued to notice the intricacy of things that had previously passed you by. Who could have guessed that the packaging of the sandwiches you used to buy before work to throw in the office fridge had changed? And apparently a bit of time ago, too? What else have you been missing? For certain, you had been missing out on times like this, where you could hold a comfortable pause with Mingi, simply enjoying each other’s company while digging into your meals. It was astonishing to think how many breakfasts, lunches and dinners that you could have had with the one person who always believed in you were ripped away from you by obligation and unwanted routine. Not for longer. 

“Mingi.”

“Hm?” he hummed while chewing, eyes widened as he turned towards you. Quickly enough, he swallowed the bite, and waited for you to continue.

“I’m glad… that we can be here like this.”

“Oh… I…” at a loss for words, he let himself swim in your spontaneous confession.

“I am just… happy. Very happy. Thank you. Thank you for being the one who I can trust, thank you for sticking with me through complete and utter chaos, thank you for being you,” the words came naturally, buried under layers of hurt that needed time to evaporate. But now, the ritualistic expedition was wondrous in combating your inner demons, and in turn, let you speak for yourself, for your own feelings rather than those of illusory authority that had previously spoken for and was in charge of your every action, whether you were aware of it or not.

“No biggie. Things get in the way sometimes, but we’re here now, aren’t we?”

“Yes, that we are.”

“It’s going to get even easier soon, just you wait.”

A hand in midair, waiting for you to lift yours and meet it. Confused, you did so automatically, yelping when Mingi moved it closer to himself, and in a swift motion planted a soft, almost shy kiss on the back. He was careful to not put any pressure on the cuts which he had just re-cleaned and covered, along with the miniature wounds that only found themselves under the stinging alcohol solution, but kept on holding onto you, debating whether you would let him stay like this to his heart’s content, or if you would pull away. The tips of his digits reached the bracelet, and you could imagine a thrum of kindred energy reconnecting the item and the man. Shock prevented you from acting rashly, and so you simply read the fire in Mingi’s sparkling eyes, your favourite blaze that helped you out of a chasm, one that you would protect with your entire being until the world collapsed on you. And even then, you would stand up and try again.

Relief was evident in his features, from the curling of his lips to the relaxing of his shoulders. Clearly, an unfathomable pressure was lifted from his exhausted body. Every mile travelled, you were making revelations, it seemed. Venturing into the unknown, you were not quite sure who you were looking at anymore. Of course, you were confident in his name, in his presence, in his significance, but the many roles which he played in your years on this tiny planet left you struggling for words. Who was Mingi to you? Who were you to Mingi? Long gone were the days where you two had been moderately content with a distant and rapidly cooling friendship separated by glass and busy schedules. You were close. So close, that if the recklessness of acting on instinct caught up with you, you would get burned. 

Burning, like your hand despite Mingi having let it float in solitude some time ago to stand up and hop out of the back of the pickup truck. Set ablaze like your heart and soul that were feverishly awaiting a shining dawn. Your tired eyes could only watch your one wish turn the key in the ignition again, determined to help you start over. Could he be your sun? If you were to say anything more than a hollow whisper to the moon, would you fall away and lose him? You were about to bring the fingers of your left hand to run over the other, but you stopped, remembering Mingi’s comedically stern words. Instead, you imagined him pressing his lips against it again, heat rising to your cheeks upon recollection. A quick glance to the driver’s seat, and you could swear you caught the ghost of a smirk dancing across your so-called friend’s face, but chose not to comment so as to not spark a conversation you knew you would not be able to continue. 

“We’ll be there soon. There’s a neat shortcut we can take so it shouldn’t take us more than an hour.”

You nodded, trusting his judgement. Your thoughts were elsewhere, anyways and could not offer many suggestions in terms of the journey. These parts were foreign to you, and your decision-making here was as good as whenever you had a professional point to prove or a dream to follow; both flew out of your hands to be smited. At least in the case of the meandering roads, you had Mingi to shield you, letting you wander in your own mindscape for as long as you needed. The mind was a mysterious place, traversing memories both from years ago and ones that documented your most recent escapades much the same, though, maybe now they were all in brighter hues. The last of what was tying you down was packed and stashed right behind you and Mingi, both in the tiny space between the seats and the back of the cabin as well as in the exposed trunk outside. The monochrome madness stuffed into rucksacks, swaddled in sheets like a crying infant manifesting your prayers for the noise of a prior existence to cease demanding your attention. You were ready to let it all turn to ash, and be reborn.

It was fascinating how quick Mingi was to jump into action. Part of you wondered whether it was due to the times you had helped him, and he wished to somehow repay you. Or was this a genuine devotion? As the road turned into an unruly dirt path, you were certain it was the latter.

‘It’s our journey. I might not know everything that’s going on behind your forehead, and you would not know that about me, but the least we can do is stick through the worst storms.’

The grumbling of the engine turned into a roar as Mingi’s heavy combat boot pushed down even stronger on the accelerator. When people spent enough time together, they were bound to become more and more similar; such was the case with you and him. Parts had been exchanged, parts blended, and it was hard to think of a picture where there was a lack of the other’s presence in some form. Be it in behaviour or in little bits of jewellery. Mingi was driving selfishly, because he was driving for you and for the few breaths of air you had remaining in your lungs after holding up boulders of others’ opportunities at the cost of your own passions. There was experience, there was development, but there was also a need for self-preservation and a necessity to stop for the sake of health and mental clarity, and Mingi was not about to lose you. 

“D’ya want to roll the window down? You…” used to do that when you and him were teens. He did not have to say it. No matter the weather, even if for a few seconds, you wanted to be one with the air, a flightless bird that finally got a chance to glide with the wind, pleasantly lost in the elements. Maybe one day you could return to that same carefree nature. You shook your head.

“It’s a little cold outside.”

“How about this…” while slowing down a little to not lose control of the car, Mingi reached around and behind his seat, fishing for something. Finally, having found what he was looking for, he flashed a triumphant grin and produced his dark grey denim jacket, letting it land on your lap.

You raised an eyebrow, unsure of what your friend was implying. But as soon as the first hint of a breeze hit you and you saw the window start its slow descent under Mingi’s command, a chuckle escaped you. So it was not a question after all, but an encouragement, perhaps even a challenge. Giving in, you pulled the jacket over yourself like a blanket, and stared at the all-knowing constellations that decorated the cosmic expanse - the best reminder of just how small you really were, and to what priceless insignificance your troubles amounted to. In the grand scheme of things, nothing really mattered, and so, you did not see anything as ‘too out of pocket’ anymore. Might as well enjoy life instead of letting it race past you for once.

It was a mystery to you when you fell asleep; you could only recall the ghostly pale silver and ashen blue that spread over the wheat fields and another serene, barely audible serenade hummed by Mingi. But just as quickly as you had drifted into a dreamless slumber, you jolted awake at the sound of your name being repeated once, twice by your best friend. Momentarily lost, you waited for your vision to focus before following the sounds of the truck door clicking shut and of rubber soles hitting gravel by fumbling for the handle. As soon as you opened the salon, you were embraced in full by the omnipresent hum of wildlife and distant rustle of leaves and tall grass, the field at which you stopped having been long abandoned and left barren, with only dirt to present as a fruit of labour.

Stepping onto the soft earth, you could feel the cool dampness beneath your shoes, a tactile reminder of the quiet countryside that surrounded you as far as the eye could see. Mingi, his presence like a comforting shield in the stillness of the night, paused in his search for the tools he had packed. A profound hush settled over the landscape, prompting you to tilt your head and look on further, to spot the target barely a couple hundred metres away. So this was it. The promised sacrifice. The place where the past could finally quit holding on to you and tearing you apart. The abandoned barn loomed ahead like a relic from another universe and a time long gone.

The moonlight painted the barn in ethereal shades, casting a melancholic beauty upon its worn facade. Mingi's eyes held the weight of a thousand untold stories and observations, and in the quiet exchange of glances, you detected a shared understanding – a recognition that you had the right, and more than deserved to forgive yourself, and throw away the hurt you had accumulated over the years with a light heart. He stood beside you, holding onto the sacks that you had stuffed full of items that haunted you, mutely berated you and induced agonising ruminations. Papers, trinkets, utter garbage that you had never been able to throw out on your own, all collected like nightmare capsules and you were more than elated to bid them farewell.

He had not yet taken off his glasses, eager to move onwards and upwards. One of these days you might muster up the courage to tell Mingi just how handsome he was in whatever style he chose, but that was a mission for a more courageous you. From tonight into the myriad of tomorrows. Your partner in self-revolution stretched his arms towards you, gingerly passing the hefty items over and waiting for you to get a better grip. To think that there were clouds of buzzing paranoia and dread attached to either one - suffocating, persistent.

While regarding Mingi’s tranquil resolve, you discovered a sliver of a near-boyish excitement, so characteristic of him before growing pains had changed your relationship and all that came with it, that your heart ached, and a prickly sensation made itself known on the back of your hand where he had left a solitary peck. And yet, he still was not giving up on you. From the pocket of his jeans - appearing to take on the shade of a washed out chrome under the shining skies, Mingi produced a box of matches, and upon leaning closer to the truck, grasped the handle of a stick protruding from a miniature canister. More than enough to carry out the impending transformation. Mingi’s stunning orbs met yours, and without words, he conveyed a mixture of determination and sorrow, a silent promise and cheer for the grand finale.

"Here’s to letting go, and to holding on to the things that make us right," he uttered, his voice carrying the power of a truth that echoed in the night air.

“Then… I’ll be right back.”

“I will be here. Cousin said everything’s unlocked. Put things in places where the fire’ll reach.”

One step. Another. Walk turning into run, you chased after who you wished to become and propelled yourself with unprecedented pride. You could do this. With one quick push the door to the barn creaked open, and you made haste in lining the walls with who you used to be. You could taste ash on your tongue and see the fire in your pupils even though you were consumed by pitch black; here, you had the final say. Upon throwing the sacks into whatever direction, you felt your way back out, and returned to Mingi who, apparently, had the time to reposition the car a little to have the back be facing the barn. With a mischievous grin he greeted you, and pulled you into a quick embrace before giving you a matchstick and the box and leading the two of you to the structure one last time.

This had been an agreement between you - you were the one to light the first flame, and he was the one to do the rest. Though this was a journey of healing, he did not wish for you to delude yourself into a guilt-ridden state. Mingi could bear the brunt of that for you and wear it like a badge of honour. As though patrolling the grounds, he went in a circle around the barn, leaving behind the acrid stench of splattered gasoline. Suddenly, the act felt more and more real. A yelp caught in your throat as Mingi shoved the empty canister inside through a loose wooden board, now only holding onto the unlit torch. Gazed at you, awaiting the monumental execution. 

Trembling just a little, on the third try you managed to light the match, and stepped to the building full of your painful memories. the flames danced in the blackness like whispers of farewell. As you approached the ancient barn with Mingi in toe, the match's glow illuminated the grains of wood that had weathered countless storms. The night seemed to draw its breath, as though it sensed the profound act about to unfold. Outstretching the judgement between your fingers, you hesitated for a fleeting moment. The gravity of the act hung heavy – the acknowledgment that setting fire to the past was a painful necessity for new beginnings. Nevertheless, you were certain. The barn, with its history that you will never learn, became a symbol of surrender, resilience and perseverance. Holding your breath, you dropped the match, but when the result did not satisfy you, you sensed a wave of rage. You wanted more, you needed it all gone from sight and experience. 

“Mingi.”

“Hm?”

“The torch, please.”

“Oh?”

“Please.”

With a silent understanding, Mingi raised the torch, the flames licking eagerly at its edges, and passed it to you. The blade that would slash through it all. The full stop at the end of this turbulent chapter. As you touched the fire to the barn, a crackling symphony echoed through the night. The dry wood, with the base generously coated in gasoline caught quickly, and soon the barn was ablaze, a kaleidoscope of oranges, reds, and yellows against the backdrop of the moonlit fields.

The flames danced with an insatiable hunger, consuming the old wood with a fervour that mirrored the intensity of emotions in the hearts of the witnesses. Shadows flickered and danced on the ground, casting ephemeral images of what once was, each crackle of the fire a poignant reminder of the release happening before your eyes. Mingi turned to you, his eyes reflecting the blaze that mirrored the intensity of his and your emotions. In that poignant moment, the warmth of the fire contrasted with the chill in the night air, echoing the bittersweet nature of letting go.

"We are making room for something new," he whispered before pulling you into a long-awaited kiss, as searing and filled with longing as the soaring flames that illuminated your bodies. The crackling fire served as a cathartic release, and in its glow, you saw promise. As soon as you parted, the two of you rushed to the truck, climbing to take the front seats to admire the masterpiece, not daring to sit apart, holding onto each other through it all.

As the fire continued its dance, the night bore witness to the act of relinquishing the old, a solemn ritual that paved the way to more and more. Together, you and Mingi stood amidst the mesmerising spectacle, your hearts intertwined with the rhythm of the burning, ready to step into the unknown and shape a destiny yet to unfold.

🔥 perma-taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @starrysvn @shakalakaboomboo @uwuheeseungie @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @pocketjoong-reads @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

thank you for reading. please do consider leaving a reblog if you enjoyed!

[balloooonn]

GRAVITY FALLS X EDDSWORLD !! ★

HEYA GUYS GIRLS NON BINARY NO GENDER ALL OF YOU HOW ARE YOU!!! (Long text aheadd!) (Plus grammatic isn't that good I think, apologizes for that)

So I can't stop combining my fixations together. I had to mix Eddsworld with Gravity Falls, since this last one revived haha. Sorry not sorry! As I said on Instagram, this is TOTALLY NOT an excuse for making eduarjon/jonuardo... Yeah, yeah totally not... Anyways, look at these guys, Eduardo as stanford, Jon as mcgucket!!

I have to say these are just my own, personal interpretations for the characters. It's totally OK if you don't think the same as me!! I made this for fun, and oh boy It was so fun while making it and deciding which characters could fit in each other's papers.

Let me show you some more!! :D

To my surprise (not really LOL), I searched if anyone made the same in the past, and I found out they thought exactly the same as me! Tom is dipper, Matilda is Mabel, Stanley is Edd and Stanford is Eduardo. Makes sense to me.

And I thought it would be funnier (and better!) if instead of normal Edd, it was Future Edd. Thinking about an old man like Future Edd, who just wants to die but has to maintain a work for 30 years just to re-meet his brother... That makes me laugh, for some reason. XDD Look at his face. Poor guy!

And for Bill, well, guess who is it here? Tord, because I couldn't think about anyone else! And it wouldn't make sense if he had a human design, because you know what kind of interdimensional, two-dimensional triangle without real physical form he is. Mm, maybe I'm wrong and he could actually have a human form. Should I try making a design for Tord Cipher later?

That one looks silly! He's just Bill, technically red, has a weird hat and Tord's typical band-aid at the right. Didn't know how to draw this one haha

That's all for now! I'm thinking about the other characters. For now, in my mind, Laurel is Wendy, but mmmmm I don't agree too much, idk. Diwi could be Soos, and I'd LOVE seeing Bing and Larry as the stupid police xD

And MAAAAAYBE an unpopular opinion and somewhat obvious?, But I'd love mixing Eddsworld and Gravity Falls characters personalities together and other things that make them unique, not just switching them fully. What I try to say is, for example, I imagine Edd having his obsession with cola as always, Eduardo with diet cola as well. Edd could have his lucky can, somewhere, and he's just as pathetic as Stanley, despite he's usually more pessimistic, dark and irritable than him sometimes. Tom still haves that sarcastic, rude? essence, but is fascinated with mistery and you know, the weird things that happens in town! And he still conservates liking ska bands. You know, some ideas like that!

Just sharing my silly ideas here. Hope you like it :3 ! Thanks for watching.

[salted-bird]

Unique interactions aside I adore how Sinclair Who Shall Grip's character is reflected on the gameplay side, we are told through his Uptie story that he doesn't believe in Faust's cause as much as he *wants* to, and it shows, because he is just godawful at the job she gave him.

For starters, Nails, the thing that defines the faction; Shall Grip Sinclair can't inflict any stacks of it.

All other N-corp IDs we have so far can apply at least one Nails, and we are informed in N-corp Don's Uptie story that the nails possess a symbolic importance for them because "the reason we pierce evil with nails beeth to utilize them as tools so the One Who Grips may enact justice". It's all about the One Who Grips, and even at his worst Sinclair is unable to aid her beyond the surface level, quite literally he can't help Faust carry out her Execution because the skill requires Nails and he can't give them.

Though it doesn't end there, the more you use them the clearer it becomes that the Faust Who Grips and Sinclair Who Shall Grip IDs don't mesh together at all. Faust's nails inflict Bleed count, Sinclair needs Burn Count, Faust's passives heal SP, Sinclair needs to stay at low SP, Whistle gives Fanatic to two allies, Sinclair hogs one stack due to always being the lowest SP ally by kit-design, but then there's how he can't make proper use of the Fanatic buff because of the SP heal ruining his tails flips, so rather than helping it's like trying to put a torn band-aid over a wound when that Fanatic could be going to someone actually capable of benefiting from it.

Sure, his skills include effects that involve other N-corp units, but first, it's a selfish interaction, they can help Sinclair but the most he will give them is a pathetic 2 Bleed on the last hit from Amoral Enactment, and second, what little ways they have to help Sinclair pale in comparison to letting him fight alongside IDs from other faction, what's a 15% damage increase compared to rolling 30 on each one of Self-destructive Purge's coins, and what's 5 Burn Potency compared the obscene amounts of Burn Count Liu Hong Lu can provide for his second skill and E.G.O? The N-corp effects are pretty much just there as lip-service, which applies to Sinclair's half-baked belief in their cause too, he shines the most when going against Nails and Hammer, and that keeps being the case even for the ID that's supposed to be on their side.

I find it funny how the closest to a synergy you can find between Faust and Sinclair is Faustie's Gaze buff, which sums up their relationship perfectly. She points to something and Sinclair kills stuff, Sinclair's core personality remains unchanged just like how the only thing that Gaze does is provide a crude damage-buff that doesn't help with any of Sinclair Who Shall Grip's obtuse mechanics, but the 'Sinclair kills stuff' part is enough for Faust.

Lastly, another point that I love is Sinclair's physical types and resistances.

All his skills deal Blunt damage, which is exactly what the N-corp Inquisitors are weak to.

Other N-corp units deal Blunt damage too, but they also have Pierce skills that the Inquisitors endure, Sinclair on the other hand doesn't waste a single bit of damage when it comes to killing them ASAP, and unlike the rest of N-corp Units, Sinclair Who Shall Grip has an Ineffective resistance for Blunt, at the same time his resistance against Pierce is normal rather than fatal, meaning he can go against the Inquisitor enemies without worrying about dying in a blink because they simply can't strike his weakness.

But of course, there's one N-corp character who Sinclair can't deal with, and it isn't Kromer, you must have seen already how she gets staggered if you bring Sinclair against her.

No, the one Nails and Hammer member who can claim the title of best counter against Sinclair Who Shall Grip is funnily enough, Faust Who Shall Grip.

Emitter is weak to Lust but it doesn't matter because Faust resists the physical type of all her skills, her passive ruins Sinclair's rolls to the point he can hit 0 as a coin value, and guess what, Sinclair's base E.G.O, Branch of Knowledge, has a fatal weakness to Pride, the element of Faust's Execution skill.

There's something so twisted yet beautiful about the fact that even in gameplay terms, Sinclair can't hope to go against Faust, while she could easily get rid of him if she ever felt like it.

But of course, what I find even more beautiful is that Sinclair Who Shall Grip has one small means of rebellion left, one last tool that can he could use to hurt Faust if he ever dares go against her: Branch of Knowledge, the E.G.O that encapsulates Sinclair's sin.

Emitter also has a fatal weakness to Gluttony, and unlike Sinclair Who Shall Grip's own skills, its physical type matches Faust Who Grips fatal weakness to Slash, making it the ideal tool for killing her.

Given how turning a blind eye to everything as a way to cope is a big part of Sinclair Who Shall Grip's character, I like how the one thing he could theoretically use to break free from his dependence on Faust is a manifestation of his inner psyche literally called Branch of *Knowledge*, I would assume these are all coincidences if it were any other game but PM has put crazier details on their works before.

[jumping-jackalope]

my grandpa has had 5 surgeries on his knees. some days he can barely walk. all days, it hurts to. he's in chronic pain from numerous other things that we don't completely know the causes of but is understood as a result from a hard life on his body, from work as a farmer, meatpacker, roofer. but in my family there isn't a naming of the effect of the pain and his lack of mobility. these issues are seen as affixed in his body and all attempts to improve his quality of life reside in the body rather than navigating an environment not built for him. his body breaking down in old age has disabled him - but my family never uses that term. disability isn't an intrinsic part of old age and the framing of it as inevitable, without naming it as disability, bypasses accommodations that could improve his quality of life

in the same vein as how people don't accept that becoming disabled is something that can happen to them through sickness or accident, i think there's a failure to grapple with the effects of aging causing disability rather than umutable facts of "old age"

[normal-internet-user]

PURPLE SATIN

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

Summary: You Know how much Donnie loved that satin jacket, so you asked your mother to help you sew him a new one.

Warnings: Very minor injuries.

Requested: No

GN Reader!

Disclaimer: I know nothing about sewing, so take everything I say with a grain of salt.

.........................................

You winced as you poured peroxide over the new puncture wound on your finger.

Even under the supervision of your mother, you somehow managed to prick yourself like, every five minutes, and your hands were covered in band-aids.

It would all be worth it though. You couldn't wait to ses how Donnie would react when you give him the new jacket.

"(Name)! could you come here please, I need you to hand me the pins."

"Coming mom!"

You rushed into the kitchen of the apartment you shared with your mother, your father was out of the picture, so for as long as you could remember, it had just been you and your mom.

You sat down at the table, holding up two boxes of pins, "Which ones?"

"The second ones, please."

You handed your mother the pins she needed, then set the boxs back on the table.

"So when do I get to meet this, Donatello?" your mother asked you, smiling as she continued to sew together the purple fabric.

"Uhm, I'll uh- I'll have to talk to him about it, and-"

Your mother laughed, "Honey, honey, I'm joking! I can wait as long as you two need."

You smiled softly, "Yeah, right. thanks, Mom."

Your mom had been nothing but supportive in your relashonship with Donnie, even though she had yet to meet him. She had practically exploded with joy when you asked her to help you make the jacket.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Pulling it out, you saw that it was Donnie, "Speak of the devil, and he shall appear."

"Well tell him I say, hello."

"Will do, Mom." you smiled, then picked up the phone, "Hello?"

"Ah, hello my dearest darling. I was wondering if perhaps you were free this evening?" the smooth voice of your boyfriend sounded through your phone.

"Infact, I believe I am." you giggled.

"Wonderful! meet me at our usual spot, around... 8:30ish."

"Will do, dear."

"I'll see you soon then, darling."

"See you soon, Donnie. Oh! also, my mom says hi."

You heard Donnie laugh, "But of course! Send Ms. (Surname) my salutations."

"Sure thing, dear."

"I'm afraid I must take my leave, but I will see you tonight my love."

"See you tonight."

Donnie hung up the phone, and you smiled with a lovesick sigh. Walking back into the kitchen, you sit next to your mother. "Donnie, sends his salutations."

Your mother laughed, "He has quite the way of speaking, doesn't he?"

"Thats one way to put it. Also, I'm meeting him later tonight, around 8:30."

Your mother beamed at you, "What perfect timing, because I just finished the jacket!"

"Wait, really?"

Your mother nodded, and excitedly held up the finished clothing. You gasped, it was even better than you thought it'd be. The different shades of violet and purple looked amazing sewn together. On the back, there was a plethora of image patches sewn into the fabric, all science and technolgy related to favor into Donnie's interests.

"It's perfect, Mom! thank you so much! Oh my god he's gonna love it."

Your mom laughed again, "Well he better. Look at our hands!" Your mom held out her hands, wiggling her band-aid covered fingers. You laughed with her, gingerly taking the jacket from her.

"Go pack it up, and get ready for your date. I'll clean up ok?"

You nodded, kissing your mom on the cheek, then running to your room to wrap the jacket.

You placed the now folded clothing into a box, wrapping it in purple paper, then tieing a ribbon on top. "Perfect." you muttered.

You proceeded to get ready for your outing, putting on your favorite outfit, and fixing your hair. After doing a 180 in the mirror you, grab the box, and rush out of your room. You peck your mom on thr cheek as you run to the front door, "Bye, Mom! I love you!"

"Love you too honey!"

You closed the door, and as quickly as you could, left your apartment complex. Your sneaker pounded against the side walk as you approached the park you and Donnie usually met at.

Once you arrived, you collapsed on the nearest bench, breahing heavily, "I- I really need to work on my cardio, holy crap."

"You didn't even need to run, my dear. You are incredibly early."

You jumped as Donnie sat next to you, clutching the gift closer to you. "Geez, don't do that. you nearly gave me a heart attack."

Donnie chuckled, "I highly doubt that you nearly had a heart attack. I may have startled you a little bit, yes, but-"

"Dear, it's an expression." you chuckled.

"Ah- ehem, right."

You laughed a little, "Anyway, how are you? I haven't seen you in forever! I missed you."

"We literally saw each other yesterday."

"So? you obviously missed me too. You did invite me out after all."

Donnie opened his mouth to reply, then seemed to notice the box, "What is it you have there, my love?"

You suddenly grew nervous, looking down at the gift, "Uh- it's for you. Me and my mom, well, just- here." You handed him the box, and Donnie looked at you questioningly. Just as he was about tear the wrapping, he noticed your bandaged fingers, "Darling, what happened to your hands?"

Donnie set the box aside, pulling your hands into his own, gently examining your digits.

"Oh, don't worry about it, I'm fine! open your gift!" you say, pulling your hands away, and handing him the box once again, trying your best to hide your blush.

Donnie glanced at your injured hands, then began to slowly unwrap the box. He stopped abruptly once he saw the jacket, slowly taking it out of the box. His face was blank, amd it was nearly impossible to gauge his reaction. You bit your lip nervously, "It's ok if you don't like it! I just thought that, well, you really liked that last purple satin jacket, so I was like, 'Maybe I could make him a new one'- and so I asked my mom-"

You cut yourself off in surprise. Donnie had dropped the jacket back into the box, and pulled you in for a sudden hug. You held your arms up in surprise.

Then you gently hugged him back, and he hugged you tighter, "Is- is this ok?" you asked him softly, your hands on his shell.

Donnie nodded slowly, muttering a low, "Thank you."

You smiled and hugged him a little tighter. Blushing slightly harder. "Anything for you, Donnie."

.........................................

This one is kinda bad, but eh. I like it soooo. Feel free to send in a request tho! I am running kinda low on ideas lol.

[simply-whump]

My Lovely Boxer (순정복서) - Whump List

Whumpees : Kim Tae Young played by Lee Sang Yeob

Synopsis : Kim Tae Young is a cold-blooded sports agent. One of his clients is Kim Hee Won. He is an excellent baseball pitcher and, a dear friend to Kim Tae Young. To help him, Tae Young is asked to bring female boxer Lee Kwon Sook back to the boxing ring. 3 years ago, she emerged as an elite boxer at the age of 17 but then suddenly disappeared. (MDL)

Genres : Sport, Youth, Romance, Drama

Warning! Possible spoilers below!

Kim Tae Young

Ep 1 : (42:05) Emotional — (45:40) Drugged by injection, passes out, wakes up in bathtub with a plastic bag on his head, panicking, heavy breathing, falls out of the tub, wraps himself with a blanket, upset, throwing up — (54:54) Exhausted, falls asleep, wakes up startled, concern for him

Ep 2 : (56:08) Punched hard in the face, knocked out — (56:34) Head bandaged comically, startled, wincing

Ep 3 : (57:37) In a headlock, punched in the stomach

Ep 2-5 : None

Ep 6 : (01:00:00) Strangled, kicked, collapsed on the ground, heavy breathing, grabbed by the collar and pushed against a car, threatened, knocked out

Ep 7 : (03:00) Unconscious, wakes up, coughing, groaning in pain, tries to get up but collapses — (05:17) Threatened, frightened, flinching — (07:16) Sleeping, face bruised, concern for him, woken up, wincing in pain, tries to walk but collapses on the ground, more groaning in pain, helped up — (09:17) In bed sleeping, face and neck bruised, concern for him, balm applied on wounds, face patched up with some cute band-aids — (01:00:10) Learns the death of his friend, teary-eyed, crying

Ep 8 : (01:10) Depressed, recalling painful memories, anxious, panic attack — (02:40) Friends worried because he hasn’t left his room in three days — (03:07) Going to his friend’s funeral, so out of it that he forgets to put on shoes, concern for him, cannot enter the funeral hall, upset — (14:00) Emotional, tearing up the wall full of his friend’s pictures, concern for him, lowering himself to the ground — (24:06) Friends are worried for him so they break inside his room, sitting on the floor depressed, hugged — (28:00) Forced to get out of bed — (30:25) “Lightly” punched multiple times while wearing boxing protection, letting out his anger and frustration, screaming, sobbing

Ep 9-11 : None

Ep 12 : (00:00) Surrounded, punched in the stomach, collapses to the ground, hands tied, manhandled, put on his knees, angry, kicked — (10:10) On the ground, groaning in pain — (26:07) Angry, pushed, restrained — (34:39) On a chair, hands tied, teary-eyed — (40:05) Gun put on his head — (41:57) Found unconscious — (01:02:12) Playfully punched 

>> More Whump Lists

[cleromancy]

to me i dont think that nonserious physical injuries are real to jason at all like they barely register whether they're on him or on someone else, but to tim things like little cuts and scrapes are 1. concrete problems 2. that he can do something about, so they light up the center of his brain that goes "TIMMY FIX"

and it sincerely doesnt matter who it is who has the scrapes like tim by default is going to try to fix anything he perceives as within his power to fix. thats who he is thats what he does. like yeah he probably wouldnt go out of his way to do it for someone super evil like sionis or someone he, personally, really hates like digger harkness or if he happens to be really mad at that person right that minute but otherwise. at minimum hes making sure *somebody* sees to their minor injuries.

and i just :chinhands: i like to think about jason realizing that tim cares by default about it when something happens like jason cuts himself while chopping vegetables. like jason blows him off and tells him to calm down and tims like a dog with a bone when he feels the need so like no actually you're going to sit down and accept your bandaid and neosporin. and jasons so baffled like tim im a grown ass 20 or 30 year old man i can get my own band aid. but just having someone consistently notice and care about small hurts that not even jason notices or cares about

and its once again literally not bc jason is special. its just that tim by default cares about people and jason is, technically, people. bc tim is not at all a subscriber to jasons school of thought that people ever stop being people, therefore tim is not going to ever think jason should stop being treated like a person. but theres jason understanding that cerebrally and then there's being regularly confronted with the fact that if jason is careless and burns his hand by accident tims going to make him put his hand under cold water because that matters to him. that regular, automatic care about little things not even jason cares about. and jason going from bewilderment to mild irritation to understanding to 🥺🥺 to. inevitably kind of wanting to get hurt on purpose just to get more of that and also just to test to make sure its not a fluke. They