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soft-hard-peaches · 4 years

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Reaction: Ateez Going to a Fashion Show with You

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~fluff~

Kim Hongjoong

You're both excited for tonight. Even the opportunity to simply attend fashion week separately is amazing let alone being able to go together. You spent the morning getting ready together, doing your final touches together. You show him the clothes you're pondering on and put them on for him. Taking off your top and replacing it for another, swapping your plaid skirt for plain leather pants, asking him if you should wear stockings or not. You trust him wholeheartedly with these kinds of things and he never wants to disappoint or put you down but he knows you want his honest help so he gives it to you. But he doesn’t need to try hard helping you anyway.

In reality, Hongjoong absolutely adores your personal style, how you are able to mix street fashion and chic one day, preppy and cute the next day, and then go back to dressing completely casual. He’s simply having fun with his own personal fashion show. He thinks you're gorgeous in whatever you wear and when you decide to wear nothing at all.

“Joong, should I wear this chain belt with the pants or will that look like I’m trying too hard?”

Hongjoong walks to your selection and picks out a thin silver chain belt. “This one. It’s not too much but a nice addition.”

You smile at him as he walks up to you and slowly hooks the belt into your pants, pulling you closer, leaving nothing but tension between you both. Once he’s done, he lets you fasten the once cold chain ends. When you look up, he’s smirking playfully at you.

“What was that?”, you asked, amused by his random seducing. Hongjoong walks to his closet and begins looking for his already set outfit.

“Nothing. But you can help me if you want.”

Seonghwa

You sat on the couch of the boy’s dorm waiting for your boyfriend to finish getting ready for tonight’s upcoming event. This is practically routine for you to wait for Seonghwa while he got ready. Not like you mind all that much. You understood how much he cared about his appearance and his interest in fashion. So you waited patiently in the kitchen, scrolling through your phone and occasionally talking to the other members.

“Are you excited for tonight?”, Yunho asked you. You glanced up at him to respond but then went back to your phone, scrolling through twitter to see who was all attending, “I heard that Jennie and Lisa were supposed to show up and I can’t wait to see their glamorous outfits. I feel like they are gonna be the best dressed of the whole event.” As you finish that remark, you see your boyfriend descending from the stairway.

Your phone slipped from your grasp slightly when you saw Seonghwa make his way towards you.

“Y/n? Do you think this outfit is alright?”, he asked as he fiddles with the cuff of his overcoat.

“Woah hyung, you should be the one walking the runway!,” Yunho interjected but he practically took the words from your mouth. Placing your phone down, you walked over to your rather dapper boyfriend. Removing his clumsy hand from his cuff to properly fix it. “You look runway ready, Hwa.”

Jeong Yunho

Walking into the event was a bit overwhelming for you. All of the photographers and fansites with their flashing lights that were almost blinding, the loud commands of where and how to pose, the group’s managers leading you all to get inside. All the boys looked well-dressed and well groom and you followed suit in your best black-tie attire.

You sat between your boyfriend Yunho and a well known up-in-coming designer, popular for their nature/fantasy inspired designs, and behind you were other celebrities in the industry that were way more relevant than you because you were only known for being girlfriends with a famous idol. For that reason you felt like you had no merits being there. You felt like a fish out of water. Even after the show you stood there behind the group’s manager watching the boys pose for a photo op, the feeling sat inside you that no one would care if you were even there and that feeling engulfed you until you sat in the car on your way home.

Once in the car, Yunho grabbed your hand and softly placed it on his cheek. He let out a long yawn as he began to rub the back of your palm on his cheek, “Yaaahh, Y/n I’m so glad you came… these things can be so tiring. When you're around I feel at peace.” You watched your sleepy boyfriend silently. Trying your very best not to break down from happiness from the unintentional consolation.

Kang Yeosang

You rested on his bed, half dressed, thinking about the day’s big event. Initially you were ecstatic that your boyfriend was going to such a big event like a fashion show but now that you are going, it has you a bit wary. Nonetheless, you are excited to share this experience with your beloved Yeosang. Yeosang on the other hand was more noticeably nervous. Pacing around his room, changing his outfit for the third time, mixing up the arrangement of his accessories, and muttering to himself. You sat up, deciding it was also time to atleast put a shirt on so you can help your tottering boyfriend,

“Yah, Jagi, what color should I wear?”, he asked, scouring through his closet.

“You look great in red and black”, you state simply, heading to his nightstand to borrow a pair of dangly earrings.

“Button up or turtleneck?” You look back to see him holding the options in his hands.

“Definitely turtleneck.”, you affirm while also picking out something from his closet. Yeosang looked at you in confusion, “Didn’t you bring an outfit with you?” You chuckled as you draped one his jackets over on your body, “Yeah I did, but your clothes are better.”, you respond coyly, giving him a cheeky smile. You practically traded half your outfits for his at this point but since he takes a bit of pride of you wearing his clothes, he doesn’t complain.

Almost finished with his ensemble, he checks for your opinion once more asking, “Contacts or no contacts?”

Also finished dressing, you walked over to him and caressed his face, pulling him down to plant a kiss on the lips, “No contacts, your visuals are striking enough.”

Choi San

The energy of the show is exhilarating! The talent of these designers give you a surge of fascination. The assorted patterns and colors, all the different materials and textures, and the skill to make fabrics look good on a person’s body brings you to a complete awe. Holding your hand on your lap was your boyfriend San. He knew how much you loved fashion so he was more than eager to invite his sweetie love to go with him.

Every now and again you’d turn to each other to comment on the models and what they are modeling. “Look San!”, you’d have to speak over the music, “Amazing!” Small phrases were easier to communicate. San agreed that the models and designs were nice but the way you looked at all the models with such amaze and adoration was how he looks at you everyday and seeing your eyes light up with wonder was the whole show for him.

Song Mingi

You were a bit apprehensive but excited to be seen in such an important event with your boyfriend Mingi because this is your first time being seen together as a couple.

It was a pretty big deal for you both to come out as a couple; you both being idols from different companies. Together, you had to meet with your respective companies on this decision and on when and how to release the news. You both were worried about the very possible backlash from fans and antis. But this was very important to you both so with the support of your companies, you two became successful separately and together and today is the day that you’ll be seen hand-in-hand for the very first time.

“Mingi! Y/n!”, you hear your names shouted from all angles. You felt a bit awkward. Although you’ve had your picture taken many times before, this is the first time at an official event with your boyfriend.

“Mingi!”, a fansite shouts. You expected him to move away from you to give them a better shot of him but he places his hand around your waist, scooting you closer to him. You try to hide any changes in expression as much as possible but the moment he grabs your hand, signifying his love for you, cracks your generic idol grin to a genuine goofy smile that your fans and him know well, which slightly embarrasses you and causing everyone including Mingi to… lack of better words… bust a UwU.

Jung wooyoung

“Doll...”, Wooyoung knocks on the bathroom door, “... the car will be here soon.”

Though he said it in a playful manner, you know he was trying to put a bit of fire under your butt, but as long as the car hasn’t pulled up you saw no reason to leave the bathroom especially for this upcoming event. Outside the walls you hear the muffle chatter of the guys that for time to time you can make out and chuckle to yourself but your main focus is to vamp up your look. This a BIG event with big names and gorgeous people and you wanted to look the part. You tried on three different shades of lipstick to compliment your eyeshadow, reapplied your eyelashes to make them perfect, and gave yourself an efficient enough pep talk just in case you lose your cool at any point. Though you were only in attendance, you were ready to be the best at the show.

*knock**knock* “Baby?”

“Yeah. I’m ready Woo, you can come in.”, you said in a sweet sing-song tone while you sprints your finishing spray on your face. Making sure your makeup stays strong for what today will unfold.

Wooyoung walks in just in time to catch some of your mist in his mouth. Trying to speak between coughs, “Ya done *couch* yet?” You look up at him through the mirror, not yet turning back to him. You stop there staring at your coughing boyfriend in total awe. Yes, Wooyoung is always fashionable but today he is something different. From his perfectly styled wavy black hair down to his slick designer toes. And he notices your stare.

With his last attempt in clearing his throat, he questions your stare. You admire your confused boyfriend further. The quizzical expression fixed on his face breaks your trance with a laugh, “Woo! You take best dressed of all I see.” Your blunt compliment takes him off guard but that makes him even cuter.

“Ya… you’re making me blush… Let’s go! The car is here!”

Choi Jongho

About an hour into the car ride home was gradually becoming quieter with the tired members slowly falling asleep and the manager turning down the volume of the radio to accommodate for the members. Jongho sat in the back between a sleeping Yeosang and you. This event took a lot out of all of you. For him and the rest, they are more or less used to strenuous scheduling but he was afraid that you were over exerting yourself on his behalf. When the company accepted his request to invite you, he was overjoyed to have you experience something as prestigious as fashion week with him. You’re his darling Y/n afterall. He wants to experience as much with you as possible but he worried that his idol life may tire you out one day.

The rumble of the moving car and low volume radio played in the background. Once Jongho stopped thinking so much he mistook Yeosang’s gentle snore for your’s and leaned over to check if you were asleep. Once he leaned far enough to see your face, you opened your eyes, spooking him. “Woah you’re awake Y/n?”, he tried to play off his surprise, “Did I wake you?”, he whispered. You shook your head no making him relax back into his seat. You were both silent for a few minutes when he noticed your hand resting close to his. As he noticed, you brushed your fingertips on the back of his hand affectionately, catching his attention further.

You rested your head on his shoulder to whisper to him, so only he can hear your message, “You know Jongho? I’m really glad you invited me. You didn’t have to invite me to this but i am really grateful that we can do things together. Albeit, I would be just as happy if we stay in and watch a bad movie.” You end a very sentimental statement with a slight joke to keep from getting emotional but Jongho takes that much needed validation and places your hand in his for the rest of the ride home.

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yheunjung · 4 years

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what’s up? i’m red (21+, he/she/they). it’s so lovely to meet all of you! i’ve brought hwang eunjung (22, she/her) into the group today. the most important thing to know about her is that she’s not interested in being polite or heterosexual!! also, she’s a politicians daughter, aspiring revolutionist, college senior and asmr youtuber. i know that’s a lot going on but i think it makes sense! you can find a complete profile here, background here plus a bunch of wanted connections here. below the cut is a tl;dr + some quick plot ideas. all the usual and since tumblr im is circling the drain you can also find me on twitter (@.lectracity) or disc.ord (@ AWCY?#8739) as well! thank you so much for taking the time to read this! i hope to talk to you soon!!!

Fun Facts

was very different until about 16? an embodiment of children should be seen and not heard with a lovely smile, exemplary behavior as well as a lot of internalized trauma

now she’s (trying to be) loud, pissed and determined to use every advantage given her to make a change for the good

kind of thinks her dad is Evil, agrees with many of his detractors and WILL put a stop to him, but also that’s still her family? so don’t talk shit about them if you aren’t prepared to get hit. it’s complicated!!

father wanted her to study business, but she openly defied him in a really big moment of personal growth to go into political science so she could one day try to improve things (and help right the wrongs he did yk)

drives a dark red suzuki katana

volunteers at women's shelters, animal shelters and is a major activist for lgbt+ rights

genuinely cares for people and believes everyone’s story deserves to be heard

also loves animals but especially more unusual ones? thus she has a massive terrarium decked out to the nines for sweetie her 3 year old ball python whom is quite possibly the most spoiled serpent in all the land

has been stealing her fathers personal belongings for a couple of years, selling them and donating the money to charity. he has yet to notice.

started out selling gifts from her parents first and it’s escalated

will for sure escalate some more so like keep an eye on your stuff

she gets an allowance from her mother which she supplements with money from her youtube channel to live independently of her father

despite the surface level chaos, eunjung is incredibly calculating and deliberate. if she’s got two different shoes on that was on purpose.

she’s desperate to distance herself from the perfect image she had growing up. really just wants to be her own person

acts quite goofy and angry, but just know that’s her trying her best!!!

sometimes still cringes when things get loud. absolutely hates that she has problems with that, but can rescind into herself in extreme situations

part of the reason she prefers hole in the wall to any clubs

Quick Start Ideas

They spot her struggling to climb over the fence to get into her house after her dad changed the security code so she’d call him.

Eunjung may have had a bit too much to drink and maybe they were kindly offering her some assistance home, (or maybe she was just in their way wtv it’s up to you) except she took it the incredibly wrong way and tried to hit them with a bottle.

They were minding their own business shopping at the galleria when they saw Eunjung running around with bags full of wigs and the most random assortment of stuff that begs to be checked out. But it only gets weirder from there.

During a stream, she was given an absolutely ridiculous donation and the name of the supporter is very familiar to her. Not aware that anyone in the neighborhood knew what she was doing, it sent her into a bit of a panic. They don’t have to be someone who typically watches her kind of videos and could 100% just be doing it to see her freak out!

All roughed up and clearly avoiding going home to angry parents, Eunjung spotted them leaning around the neighborhood and insisted they stay at her place for the night. She’s a master of sneaking in, so it wasn’t an issue.

Anything involving running down alleys together away from someone. I don’t care what kind of situation is involved, I just really want it okay.

#yhintro #♦ooc #please forgive my slowness at messages i'm a slow typer

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startofamoment · 6 years

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to all the WIPs i’ve loved before

rules: post your favorite parts of 3-5 fics that have been sitting abandoned in your drafts for ages. (for extra shame, throw in when you last worked on each thing.) tag 5 other writers to reflect on their life choices.

a pen pals au of sorts in which jake and amy share a desk and communicate via post-it notes (last edited: december 2017)

Amy is going to murder her deskmate.

The literal trash heap that greeted her last Monday was one thing, the sticky orange soda stain from last month was another thing, but this – this blatant disregard of property and boundaries and the sanctity of office supplies – is the Last Straw.

Spread out across her entire desk is a good fourth of the Post-it notes from the brand new assorted set she got from her brother Tony. They’re all arranged to look like various Star Wars icons, and a few of them are filled in with marker for apparent color correction. It’s horrifying.

Grumbling, she begins taking apart Post-It Yoda, keeping the salvageable pieces in a stack and throwing out the rest. When she’s cleared her entire table, she grabs her favorite pen and a fresh sheet then writes:

Hi, Please refrain from wasting my Post-its in the future. Thank you. - Det. Amy Santiago

She stares at it for a moment and decides, since this is probably the only passive aggressive note she’s going to write her deskmate, she might as well add:

PS: I would appreciate it if you would leave our desk clean at the end of your weekend shifts.

After checking it over once more, she places it in the center of her desk, ready to be read the following Saturday.

a dianetti cake shop au in which rosa owns and runs a store called arlo’s (last edited: june 2017)

Gina takes a moment to look over some of the cakes on display before clearing her throat and leaning over the counter. “’Scuse me, can you help me get a custom cake order started?”

“Sure.” The baker wipes her hands on a dish towel before grabbing a small notebook and pen from one of her pockets. “What’s the occasion?”

“Some old geezer’s leaving our precinct to enjoy retired life, or something like that.”

“Retirement party? Cool. Tell me about this guy.”

“Oh, sweetie, I don’t know or care about him. I’m just here cause my boss told me to order a cake.”

A smirk forms on the baker’s lips. “Ha. Do you wanna just do a standard cake order then? I usually do the custom cakes for more personalized, special events.”

“That’s probably smart. Which one of your standard cakes say: ‘Congrats on being old and rich enough to never work another day in your life, but sorry you’re almost dead’?”

She snickers. “I don’t know about that first part, but how ‘bout an angel food cake as a ‘hope you go to heaven when you die’ sort of thing?”

Gina grins and fishes through her purse for her wallet. “Oh, you should know my expectations on this cake are out of this world high. I’m only here because Yelp told me you’re the Beyonce of baking.” (Actually, she’s here because at least three reviews claimed the baker-slash-owner was “terrifying” and “gorgeous.” – They were right, on both accounts.)

a sequel to i could listen to you all day // the “after ever after” story in which jake and amy navigate their first year together as soulmates (last edited: march 2017)

Jake’s phone buzzed on his desk, breaking him out of his happy daydream. He picked it up and opened a new message from Gina.

“god, quit making heart eyes at the new girl!! your conscience would be v disappointed, kiddo.”

Gina, who had been watching him like a hawk from her desk, expected him to get all flustered and to text or yell back something overly defensive. She raised a single eyebrow when his face instead broke into a goofy grin and he straight up giggled.

Across from him, Amy looked up from her case files. “What’s so funny?”

He shook his head and mumbled something about memes and the internet.

She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips curled up into a smile. After he redirected his attention to his computer screen, her expression morphed into the same openly adoring look he had on his face the entire morning.

And then it all clicked.

If Gina had stopped to think about it, she would have recognized the new disappointment she felt in both herself (for taking this long to put two and two together) and her childhood best friend (for not keeping her in the loop). As she had not stopped to process anything, she instead yelled across the bullpen: “OH MY GOD. JAKE AND AMY ARE SOULMATES!”

All work stopped, and everyone fell silent. For a good minute, all that could be heard was the faint snoring from Captain McGintley’s office.

“Gina,” Rosa half-snarled, half-whispered. “You can’t just say that.”

“Oops, my b. Y’all know I have no conscience now so…” She giggled, winked at the leather-clad detective, and went back to her game of Kwazy Cupcakes.

Jake let out an awkward laugh. “Well, uh, that was -”

Out of nowhere, Charles appeared right in front of their desks. “Is it true, Jakey? Was Amy the voice in your head all this time?”

“I -” He glanced at Amy for help.

She bit her lip and shrugged.

This wasn’t at all how he envisioned making the announcement, but there was no use denying it. Still looking straight at her, his face softened into a smile. “Yeah… We’re soulmates.”

Charles squealed loudly. “You said the S word! Does that mean it’s official?” He gasped. “Have you said ‘I love you’? Have you met each other’s parents? When’s the wedding? What are you naming your first child?”

pretty much a crack fic inspired by the media’s post-olympics obsession with tessa and scott // my spin on a vm au bc i still refuse to write jake and amy as ice dancers (last edited: may 2018)

Like many of the other bizarre situations he’s found himself in, this all started with Gina. Over the last year or so, she’d been posting random photos and videos of all of them at the precinct. (“I’m devoting my energy to my new project, Ginazon,” she’d declared to the entire bullpen. “It’s a one-stop online portal for my legions of followers. I’m just giving the people what they want!”) Given that this was Gina of all people, Jake wasn’t at all surprised to find out that each post garnered hundreds of likes, but he’d never bothered to venture into the comments section. He’d never known about the apparent niche following that had formed, the group of fans – for lack of a better word – waiting with bated breath for him and Amy to get together.

Charles had only spurred them on, what with all the various Easter eggs on his culinary blog. (“This place has everything,” he’d written once. “My co-workers Jake and Amy even gave it their stamp of approval after they’d shared a quick lunch there before a long stakeout. Make sure to ask for the winter salsa; it’s wonderful!”) He’d sworn that none of it was intentional and that he would never do anything to sell them out, but everything he’d written had still been catalogued and analyzed by the pseudo-experts of the fandom. At this point, Jake’s main regret is not reading Charles’ weekly email blasts.

Their downfall – or rise to viral glory – came when someone from the so-called G-Hive happened to be in just the right place at just the right time, catching their (second) completely-platonic, spur-of-the-moment, done-in-the-name-of-justice kiss on camera. By the next morning, “Undercover Cops Lock Lips Before Locking Up Wanted Criminal” had been viewed on YouTube over a million times.

With everything about the entire situation already being so weird, they’d decided to just ignore their newfound fame in the same way they’d pretended the kisses never happened. (“We’re a great team. We work great together. Nothing should mess that up,” he’d said, repeating nearly his exact words from the night before.)

Evidently, there was no escaping this though. A formal press conference was set up, which wasn’t too out of the ordinary for cases that caught the general public’s attention, except they’d ended up having to say more about their dating lives than the investigation or arrest. He can still feel his heart lurching in his chest at the first relationship-related question, still hear Amy loudly stammering out some vague answer about being “very professional.”

a smutty soulmate au in which jake and amy unknowingly share dreams every now and then (last edited: november 2017)

At this moment in time, Amy Santiago is undeniably, incomparably, drop dead gorgeous.

More specifically: she’s in the hot red dress Kylie convinced her to buy on their last post-trivia night celebratory shopping spree; she’s wearing a matching killer shade of lipstick picked out by her fashion-forward, shockingly sexual 13-year-old niece; and she’s got her hair swept into that one elegant yet fun side ponytail that caught her eye in a magazine a few weeks back.

Normally, she’d be proud of herself for managing to pull off such a look, except–

It’s been a good several hours since she tossed her dress into the hamper, wiped the makeup off her face, and tugged the elastic tie from her hair. She’d buried her head into her pillow and wheeze-cried herself to sleep shortly after changing into her pajamas, so overwhelmed with shame and disappointment over the night’s party-gone-wrong.

The thick haze shrouding her current surroundings tells her she’s in another one of her soulmate’s dreams, which helps a tiny bit in explaining her current appearance but really opens up more questions than answers.

tagging: @santiagoswagger @three-drink-amy @do-me-decimalsystem @arnie-santiago @sergeant-santiago

for the record, this was inspired by @disruptedvice and @elsaclack’s responses [x,x] to the writing meme!! i thought it was super clever of them to feature little snippets from various works and felt this would be a good way to give unfinished/abandoned fics some love!

#writing meme #wip meme #tag game #b99 au #i'm honestly shookt at the last edit dates on these #why am i like this #ngl i just wanted an excuse to post some of these bc i'm fairly certain they won't ever be finished RIP #if anyone else wants to do this pls feel free!!!#my stuff

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thelostcatpodcast · 5 years

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THE LOST CAT PODCAST TRANSCRIPTS: SEASON 3: EPISODE 05: FIREBALLS

SEASON 3: EPISODE 05: FIREBALLS

Episode released 26th March 2017

I met a real magician once. He said that magic was real. He said what we call 'magic' was the conscious mind's means of influencing the probability matrices of the quantum plane in order to positively impact the future of that organism. But he did not throw any fireballs, and I left.

THE LOST CAT SEASON 3 BY A P CLARKE, EPISODE 5: FIREBALLS

There have been new arrivals in our neighbourhood. Not ordinary hipsters – they left a long time ago. No: a new kind. Young, and undeniably beautiful, they drifted through the streets wearing seemingly random assortments of clothing that suggested they dressed by having people throw underwear at them until some stuck. Great booming bass would echo about the buildings late at night from secret clubs holding secret parties where these new arrivals would go and do who knows what to who knows what. They would engage people in conversation on the street, often with opening gambits like 'do you more fear death or birth?' and 'what stops you from eating me?'. They walked as if on feathers, and they did not leave dents in cushions. A lot of the local population was deeply suspicious of them, and I saw an aggressiveness in the rhetoric towards these new arrivals I had never witnessed before, and found deeply fascinating. There was one in the pub last Wednesday. He was wearing, as far as I could tell, neon tubing and feathers. He was drinking an iced water, so I went up to talk to him. He said his name was Sparkles. I looked back at the bar, where there staff were giving him dirty looks, and then engaged with him. He said, "Cats? Cats have great ritual power. They contain a strong liminality that connects them to the many layers of our realities." "I can back that up," I said. "We use them in our rituals." "You wait what now?" I said. "Look, we're not just partying. That would be a nihilism. We are practicing our beliefs." "Oh? And what are your beliefs?" "Weeeeell," he said. "Technically we're satanists." "Oh," I said. "Look," he said. "It's not what you think. Try this: what are witches but powerful women the church needed destroyed? What are ghosts but the lessons of the past our leaders need us to ignore? The myths of many cultures are filled with figures of rebellion and truth, villified and tortured to preserve existing power structures. Consider Prometheus, who stole fire from the Gods to help humanity, and consider his vile punishment. What is the devil but a creature who defied God to help humanity? Again and again he tempted Jesus with comfort and again and again Jesus chose pain, so that we would consider pain good, as those in charge inflict hardship upon hardship on us. Comfort is the truth. Joy is the way." "It still sounds a little dangerous to me." "Oh," he said. "It's mostly about sex." "Oh well, that’s OK then." "Look, we’re having a party tonight. Come along, it'll be fun. You'll love it." "And you say you have cats?" "Oh, hundreds of them." "I think I may just do that." And I left Sparkles to his iced water and the huddled stares of the bar staff, and set off to plan. I had the location from Sparkles but I needed to do more than just attend. If I was to investigate their cat-activities I would need to infiltrate them. If I was to infiltrate their group I had to pass as one of them. Now this was not a group that functioned on dusty initiations such as passwords, handshakes, and obscurantist ritual. No, this was a group that identified its members in body language and pheromone. Non-verbal, animalistic, biological. They, who did not tremendously believe in reality, treated altering it in much the same way they approached getting dressed. I was going to have to take Lots Of Drugs. If I was on the same drugs as them, they would simply see me as one of them, and all the doors would open. The drugs would serve the secondary purpose of numbing me enough to be able to stand being in a club. Oh lord the idea of all that noise, and all those people, and all that activity, all bouncing around inside some dark space I could not get out of – the very idea filled me with dread. But I had to do this, I had to do this for my cat, and so I girded myself and set out to acquire some drugs. Which I did by asking my housemate Maupin, who always had loads. She gave me an almighty smirk as I gave her my shopping list. "Are you actually going to try having fun tonight?" "I’m doing this for my cat." "Yes, dear," she said, and handed the pills and powders over. Uppers to get my metabolism going, some MDMA for the emotions and something herbal to take the edge off my rational faculties. I should be fine, and kept a selection of miscies in my pocket just in case I needed to do some fine tuning later. "Umm," I said. "Also could I borrow that sequined blouse of yours?" And she laughed out loud. Well after dark, way after my bedtime, after even the shadows stopped moving, I headed out. Dear listener: do not take drugs, do not worship Satan, and do not own a cat. No good can come from any of them. Nevertheless: I, on drugs and heading off to party with satanists in order to find my cat, followed the bass as it flowed around the buildings, using the tingling in my fingers as much as my ears. It filled up the hollows of my bones and warmed my cold skin from within, as the city melted away and left only light. I followed the brightest and I found a door. As I approached, I was joined by a couple with vertical hair, who waved at a lady who had hooves and the door opened and heat poured out and we all went in and that was that. And I thought to myself 'maybe this will work'. But inside was way more intense than I had anticipated. The noise was like a wall, the crowds moved like paper, they talked like boiling water. I lost the couple. The great hollow of the dance floor was filled with smoke and steam and light and everything bounced. I was not prepared for this. How could anyone survive in such an atmosphere? I made for the back of the room and found the bar. I grabbed on to it like a drowning man grabbing some driftwood, only with a slightly different aim. “A large glass of wine,” I said. But the man behind the bar just stared at me quizzically. He genuinely did not understand what I had said. “Red or white?” I proffered. He reached behind the bar and produced a bottle of water and a caffeine drink, then waited patiently for my decision. I took the water and nodded sheepishly. He smiled wide and bopped along to the beat, as I went back to the main room and the great void of the dancefloor. And there the music boomed and hissed and everyone gave up their bodies to the great cloud of throbbing steam above them. I staggered and I fell. I bumped in to people who moved with no rhythm I could discern. Already I could see their ecstatic faces turn to concern and confusion as I blundered past. It was not good. It was not right, my body’s metabolism was still massively out of step with theirs. But I could not give in. I would have to do something drastic. I would have to go onto the dancefloor. Horrifying though that was, it had to happen. And so, desperately wishing I had a glass of wine in my hand, and feeling incredibly jealous of anyone, anywhere, who had, I went down on to the floor, and started to dance.

Turn, and then kick, and then burn, then turn around again to the beat, in this heat, I don't think I can go on.

In the black, in the hole, and i'm gone, without a trace a boot beating down forever into my face

Don't dance in my space i'm out of my zone Don't crowd in my face i'll dance my own Get me out of here.

Dead orange lights beat down on me I know that I Can not breathe, i'm a thousand miles away from home

Don't dance in my space i'm out of my zone Don't crowd in my face i'll dance my own Get me out of here.

I danced and I danced and I danced some more. And the crowd changed around me. No longer was I bouncing off everyone, but everyone flowed around me and I around them in perfect syncronicity. I heard flutters in the music that turned in to words that turned in to stories that lasted for hours. I began to see shapes, swirls of movement, eddies of excitement, and whirlpools of concentration, and the cloud of steam above us was like a galaxy that rained warm stardust down upon us all. I danced and I danced, and it was great. Some unknown hours later, I retreated to have a rest. I was sat with a lady wearing handkerchiefs who was leaning on me while she got her breath back. "It is like all the people are moving as one," I said. "Joined as if by a singular consciousness." "Yeah sure, I guess." "It’s incredible." "Oh," she said, sighing. "It’s mostly about sex." And then I saw a new tide in the crowd. A sweep of movement crossed the dancefloor as the crowd parted perfectly around a man with straight, dark hair down to his waist, and wearing a silk slip and hobnail boots, floating through the space and in to a non-descript door off to the side. As I looked at this current, I could see it begin to glow, as if a red mist were rising from where the man had passed. I could see others start to follow the glowing red path as they picked up his energy. And all these red glows converged on that door off to the side. The lady leaning on me sighed, once more. "I’m going to get some air," she said. "Are you OK?" And she laughed. "I am beyond fine, sweetie. Hey, you try and have some fun." "I’ll try," I replied. I stood up and headed back to the dancefloor, slipping in to the wake of the red glow and feeling a warmth that dissapated if I stepped outside of the main current. I looked down at my hands and I swore I could see a red mist rising up. I walked right through the mob of the dancefloor as if through an empty field, the door was unlocked, and I walked in. On the other side was a long corridor, stretching in to darkness, obscured by curtains of dust that hung in the gloom. And everything felt different. Immediately I was hit with a smell coming up from that darkness. Strong, and musty. And there was a hint of something underneath that smell too, dull and bitter, I could taste it on my tongue. A smell like decay and old blood. And then the curtains of dust began moving towards me as a pale form appeared in the darkness and grew larger and larger. I fell against a wall, and could only feel the cold earth solid all around me. And then I saw the red mist, and the man with the long brown hair emerged out of it and put his arm around me and said “hey man, are you feeling it?” I said “it’s pretty intense down here.” "Oh I hear you, take these." "What are they?" "I’ve been on them for two days." "Oh hey, great," I said, and I took them. He helped me along the corridor. "You got here just in time," he said, sounding excited. "The ceremony is just beginning." The corridor grew narrower. I could not remember if we had made a turn. I did not know how to get out. As I put my hand out to the wall, I swear I could feel smooth rounded shapes embedded. The red mist turned to fog and then we walked through a door in to a candle lit chamber. Wide eyed figures sat all around the edge, a stone altar stood in the middle. To its side a lady in a white gown and lying on its top, a cat. It was asleep, and had heavy gold chain draped over it. It wasn’t my cat, but it was still a cat. The man, bobbing with excitement, gently led me to a space on the floor and sat me down. I swear I could feel those smooth shapes on the ground too. Behind the congregation I could see small, smooth round shapes embedded in the walls. The candles were held on stands made from small, white bones. Hanging from the ceiling were scultpures of small, white bones. The lady was wearing necklaces made of small, white bones and held in her hand a large, golden knife. And the man could barely contain himself as the lady said, "let the ceremony begin!" "Why are you using a cat?" And she stopped, and looked at me from several angles, trying to see me while her eyes changed dilation. She raised her arms again and intoned: "Good friends! And new friends! Language is accident. Reason coincidence. There is no truth, only meaning. And the physical manifestation of meaning is Symbol." And she gestured to the cat as she turned to the room: "The figure of a cat is our most powerful symbol, for its meaning stretches from this world to the next!" The congregation all murmured together. "What are you going to do with that cat?" I continued. With only almost entirely imperceptible dip of her head, she continued. "And by reaching in to this symbol we will bring the next world to us. By taking of this symbol we ourselves will reach into that next world where we will take what we will. For comfort is the truth and joy is the way. The devil is our guide and they will provide." "Are you going to kill it?" And she turned to me, looking me right up and down. She came to some decision and she moved towards me. But back to the congregation she intoned: "The Devil is our guide!" And they repeated this, over and over. "The Devil is our guide! The Devil is our guide! And they will provide!" And then she gave me her full attention. "Who are you?" she said. "I’m just looking for my cat." "Yes, I can see you have a special connection. There is power in you." As she came closer, her eyes got wider apart and then she turned in to a snake, and then turned inside out and became a being of light, and then a butterfly. I blinked and she had not moved. "Are you real?" She beamed: "what is real?" I looked around desperately. I saw the cat begin to stir. She smiled sympathetically “Look: a symbol is an object, and action or an idea that is both understandable to us, here in the reasonable world we inhabit here, and to the pre-conscious usses in the world of pure physical, biological being. Thus through these rituals, and this joining with the symbol, we can communicate with that world." "OK, but what’s the whole 'Devil' business?" The congregation was still intoning its mantra of ‘the Devil is our guide’ "Oh one god is as good as another. And he plays really well with this crowd. Look, I do the best with what I can get. This is all a means to an end. Maybe don’t call them 'symbols'. Perhaps 'forces' is a better term. 'Things that can affect'. Yes? They make a difference.” "A difference?" "With them we can influence the future." My eyes went wide. And she leaned in really close. "We can get you whatever you want. If you let the ritual carry on. Whatever you desire." "Really?" "What is it that you most want?" "Can it help me find my cat?" She sighed, "you know, this is mostly about sex, right?" The cat on the alter, with the attention distracted towards me, took its opportunity to escape. It bit and clawed at its bindings. And to my eyes the chains burst in to flames as they flew apart. The cat sprang up and bared its teeth and arched its back and every hair stood on end and burnt like fireworks. It looked like the devil and it was the devil and the crowd recoiled from its presence. The lady stood and ran towards it. The cat raised its burning tail and slashed it across the air, cutting great swathes in reality itself. Reality tore and flapped open as the tail lashed like whips upon our world. I could see nothing behind those rends but from within came screams. I looked in to the dimensions beyond and they were made of eyes. A great streak of energy hit the man with the long brown hair fell over on to his hands and knees and his limbs thinned and his spine stretched out beyond his hips and his skull stretched out and his hair was all over his body until he was the shape of a dog, he was a dog. The cat hissed and scratched at him he yelped and ran out on fleshy, uneven legs. And the priestess reared up over the cat and yelled: "no! I am in control! I am the mistress of the ceremony!" And she went for the cat. The cat did not like this and went up on its back legs as its clawed front-paws went for the lady. They met above the altar and the impact tore the remaining tatters of our reality, opening up the dimension beyond as like a great well and the lady and the cat were sucked in. The lady hung on to the altar for a moment, but her body was stretching deep in to the void beyond. As she passed in to that dimension of infinite power, already I could see her eyes light up with an immense growing energy within. She intoned: “I shall return, and rule you all!” And then she was gone After a moment’s silence, the rends in our world sucked themselves shut and the energy expended was like a sun directly in my face. And then it was all dark. I did not move for a while. And then a sputtering flame appeared, faint and far in the distance before me. My eyes began to centre on it. It formed in to a ball, and it rushed towards me. It grew and it grew until it was right before my face. And my eyes suddenly focused, and I was in an empty room, and Sparkles was helping me up, holding a cigarette lighter up for illumination. He was beaming from ear to ear. "Some party, huh?" he said. I said, "it was magic."

THANK YOU FOR LISTENING.

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