#I would post the work in progress stuffs too but I’m just too impatient and want to show the finished product to you guys

[nionom-art]

One, two, skip a few… it’s finished!

[evangelineshifts]

Failed Shifting Attempt

Dude, I tried shifting literally all day. I took out time off so I had the whole day off and instead of doing it my way(doing random stuff till it feels like it’s working) I tried subliminals.

Worse mistake of my life.

I cracked, I got self conscious and worried that the reason I wasn’t shifting was because ‘I wasn’t doing it right’ since I didn’t have a method.

So I tried Reya’s subliminal(I only got to 27 minutes) and I wasn’t feeling anything that made me assume I was getting closer to my dr so I just stopped, I tried a different subliminal that was just sounds and I felt like i was getting a little close(I was trying to turn over in my dr and I could feel myself(?) getting pulled over but my physical body was ‘keeping me here’ like a coffin or smth so it felt like I was just getting ripped apart inside my body head first. I tried briefly doing my own thing but I stopped after like 2 minutes cause I was impatient.

So overall this entire day has been a fail attempt(never thought I’d say that) and now I’m kind of disappointed? After all my shifting attempts so far I’ve been relaxed, any ‘failed attempts have brushed off me like water. But today was so bad, it’s almost devastating. I feel burnt out or something, I feel like I’m out of energy. I’m never trying another shifting attempt like this again-🦭

I’m gonna try to get all the points in here but they’re not gonna necessarily be in order.

Okay abt you giving up bc you didn’t feel anything, I totally get that honestly I used to do that too but shifting can vary from attempt to attempt if I’m being honest. It can feel like a whirlwind and it can also feel like nothing at all so I’d just advise that when you feel nothing during an attempt try to ignore it cause you’re unintentionally focusing on your body/the process instead of being in your dr. Like a couple times I shifted I didn’t even realize I did until I was back in my cr, other times it felt like I was being sucked into a vortex and it would be unrealistic to try and ignore the feeling. I shifted all the same. Just this morning I shifted and I didn’t even realize. (I’ll make a separate post if anyone wants).

Subliminals work on the assumption that you think they’ll work. That’s why some subliminals work for some people and don’t for others. If they were some end all be all thing than one of those *WARNING SUPER POWERFUL SUBLIMINAL YOU WILL SHIFT IMMEDIATELY* subs would work for everyone but alas 🤷🏽‍♀️ they do not. Don’t beat yourself up too much over it. I honestly don’t even choose subliminals on how much they “work” for me anymore I just choose them on if the background will allow me to focus and relax and if the affs in the background help me out, great. They’re a tool not the machine, treat it as such.

There’s no right and wrong in shifting and honestly failure isn’t real as I’ve learned. No matter what came of your shift you gained SOMETHING from it. Whether it be more knowledge on how to go abt it next time or movement that you’ve just yet to see. Every attempt gets you closer and that’s a success in an of itself. Persist through it if it helps.

You did shift! Good job!

Morph that disappointment into something that happened during your shift maybe?

Chiron told you, you can’t go swim with your friends until your set chores were done. Gods that must be frustrating, you must really want to hangout with your friends. I get that.

You had an argument with someone and they just wouldn’t see your point and got angry with you? Shit what was it abt? Honestly I’d cry, I’m so sensitive when it comes to fights.

Don’t brush it off just maybe turn your focus towards something more progressive while still feeling those feelings. Tell yourself that you’ll deal with the upsetting issue the next time you go to your dr. Motivation and Affirmation that you’ve already shifted all in one. Yippee 🥳

But all in all, I hope you feel better Mimi ☹️ and I swear on my life I will remember to get to your asks in my inbox. I’ve been consistently sick for the longest time 😭😭 I’ve been around little kids and those bitches will cough straight into your mouth without remorse.

- 🍓

[vro0m]

2011 season summary

Well, well, well. I had very little to say about 2010 but 2011 brought its fair share of interesting stuff.

On the formal and technical side of things :

There was a change of tyre supplier as Pirelli came back to F1. It took a bit of getting used to for the teams and drivers and there were a LOT of pit stops in some races, with most races necessitating 3 stops.

There also was a controversy around the diffuser specifications and engine mapping, the FIA rebuking its own decisions on the matter then reinforcing them, then granting concessions then revoking them when teams complained. Look I don’t understand it completely but my point is the FIA was already a clown show.

The McLaren F-duct was banned but the DRS was introduced and most if not all the teams used KERS following an increase in the weight limit.

The stewards got awarded more power and became more severe, with Lewis receiving a record 6 penalties throughout the season (and that explains, in part, why he had such a reputation at the time – that’s no clean driving even though a couple of those were arguable).

On Lewis :

So it was a bad season for Lewis. First off, he was really frustrated with McLaren’s performance that year, be that on the engineering or on the mechanical side of things. There was seriously bad strategy, there were terrible pit stops, there was a lack of good upgrades. The 2009 car was a disaster (like a W13 level disaster for those of you who didn’t know). The 2010 car was better, but not good enough (average finish position for Lewis, admitting 0 for DNFs, was 3.1). The 2011 car performance did not progress much compared to 2010 (same average finish position, actually), and Lewis is growing impatient.

We begin to noticeably hear this discourse about being part of a team and having to rely on other people to race (e.g. China, Singapore), and thus having to motivate them to give their everything just as he does. And so in the subtext, you understand that he believes this is not the case at the moment. You can tell he’s frustrated because he genuinely believes he’s driving the best he can (which is arguable, I’m getting there) and he seems to feel like his team is letting him down, holding him back.

On the one hand, I agree with 2011 Lewis. McLaren is not good enough while his driving is, in some races, absolutely undeniably pure magic (e.g. China, Germany, Singapore, Korea).

On the other hand, 2011 Lewis has much much work to do on himself. It’s a continuation, an escalation even, of what I said about him in 2010. He makes many mistakes. I mean– as I said, he got 6 penalties throughout the season, and that was a new record! He continuously crashed into Massa, to the point that Massa did not want to talk to him anymore. So many contacts with other drivers! AND SO. MUCH. BAD. FAITH. 2011 Lewis did not apologise, did not reflect, did not accept his mistakes. His recklessness, his unwillingness to take responsibility, his habit of blaming the team are holding him back as much as McLaren is, imo.

Niki Lauda himself berated him after his fight with Jenson in Canada, as discussed during the European GP, saying as much as he believes Lewis is one of the 3 best drivers in F1, he is pushing too hard, taking too many risks. He deemed him aggressive and said the smaller guys would move out of the way when they saw him in their mirrors, but the others, like Jenson, wouldn’t yield so easily, wouldn’t indulge him, and if he kept going then he would make them both crash and cost his team a lot of points. (And yeah, I know who that reminds you of...)

However, it was a really tough time for him, as we saw especially in the last few races and that interview I posted. Lewis fired his dad as his manager that season. We know that it created a big conflict between them and throughout his whole family. It took years for them all to heal from that, so you can imagine what it must have been like at the time, how heavy it must have weighed on his mind. He had little entourage at the races. His relationship with Nicole was on and off. He felt lonely and unhappy, and he said so. If you add on top of that the fact that McLaren wasn’t good enough to cheer him up with success and wins, his frustration with the team and the strategy and the car, AND (let’s not forget) the fact that for the first time, his team-mate was better than him in the WCC standings... I mean yeah. 2011 Lewis had good reasons to be unwell, unmotivated, and defensive.

So it’s a bit dark at the moment. Hopefully things brighten up a little bit in 2012? I guess we’ll see!

Let’s talk numbers : so far, I’ve completed 29.9% of my rewatch. In total, I’ve made 570 GIFs to illustrate it.

Here’s a list of the 2011 GPs with a roughly two-sentence summary and the link to the actual recap if you wanna read it or take a look at the GIFs I made :

1. Australian GP : it’s Sergio Perez’ rookie year. KERS is back + enter DRS. Loads of DNF. Lewis’ car has an issue but still ends up P2.

2. Malaysian GP : frontrow start. Extremely fast Renaults? Light rain. Double overtake. CONTACT! A dislodged steering wheel?! Lewis P7...? (actually P8, see Chinese GP)

3. Chinese GP (part 1 & part 2) : Lewis talks about being frustrated with the team + penalty. Problem with the engine! Amazing race! Lewis wins! Very happy and emotional.

4. Turkish GP : terrible start. So many pit stops?! Loads of overtaking, nice race to watch. Lewis P4.

5. Spanish GP : boring race. Nice Seb - Lewis fight at the end. Lewis P2.

6. Monaco GP : still strategy issues at McLaren. Botched pit stops. Bad faith Lewis is back? Penalty. Red flag?! ANOTHER PENALTY?! Lewis P6...

7. Canadian GP : it’s wet. SC start. Contact. Almost contact? CONTACT AGAIN. DNF. Red flag. Rihanna. Bad faith Lewis is definitely back. Have I ever seen the SC that much? Unbelievable end, proud brother Lewis.

8. European GP : Niki Lauda talks about Lewis. Tidy race. Extremely boring. P4. Pace (and strategy?) issues again.

9. British GP : rainy quali. Terrible McLaren performance. Slight rain? Daniel’s first race. Unbelievable start. Controversial P4. Rash driving again, frustration with the team again.

10. German GP : great quali, great start. Very close fight. Nice race to watch. Lewis wins! Happy, emotional Lewis.

11. Hungarian GP : pitstop contest segment. Wet. FIRE! Rain. PENALTY? FOR WHAT?! P4. Also possibly bad strategy again.

12. Belgian GP : chaotic start. Crash! DNF. Frustration.

13. Italian GP : chaotic start again. Big crash. Beautiful racing. P4. He’s clearly frustrated.

14. Singapore GP : tension with Massa. Bad start. Contact AGAIN. Penalty. Unbelievable comeback, twice. P5. Was the penalty fair?

15. Japanese GP : stupid quali mistake. Puncture. Bad performance? Contact yet again... With Massa yet again... P5. Seb wins the WDC.

16. Korean GP : Lewis on pole! But weird mood. Good start. Light rain. Beautiful racing again! P2. It doesn’t cheer him up. RBR wins the WCC.

17. Indian GP : first Indian GP. Penalty for Lewis. Bad faith Lewis. Weird mood ongoing. Boring race. Guess what? Contact with Massa. P7.

19. Abu Dhabi GP (part 1 & part 2) : important Lewis segment. Seb DNF. Lewis wins! It does cheer him up.

20. Brazilian GP : boring. DNF.

[catb-fics]

Thanks for the the tags @icouldntfindquiet and @carmccannt

Name: Em 💕

Fandoms: CATB, bit of Sam Fender (but not enough I’m trying guys), would like to do some Inhaler maybe in the future feel like I don’t know the guys personalities well enough though yet

Where do you post: Posted my older stuff on here but everything else on Wattpad now although it’s all linked on my Masterlist

Wattpad link: Divine_Ribs

Most popular multi-chapter: My fic with most reads is probably All The Mixed Feelings, but Ice Cold gets quite a few reads and Playing Hard To Get still seems popular!

Favourite story you’ve written so far: Can I have a top 3? As above All The Mixed Feelings, Ice Cold and Playing Hard To Get. Although I love writing Forbidden too at the mo!

Fic you were nervous to post: Never Have I Ever and Hall Pass as they both contain scenes where the boys get it on and I wasn’t sure if people wanted to read it! 🙈 Turns out Never Have I Ever Part 1 is my imagine with the most reads now though! 😂

How do you choose your titles? They’re not that imaginative, there’s no process they just pop into my head!

Do you outline? Good god no that’s far too organised for me! (Apart from Ice Cold I have all that worked out) Most stories I just have a vague idea or certain scenes and see what happens as I write it.

Complete: Apart from my one-shots/imagines only 2 (most are WIPs)

In progress: Multiple imagines, Forbidden (my sexy Professor Van series), Ice Cold (sexy assassin Van) I do love my AUs! Also Teach Me (no idea where this one is going just sweet and smutty when it gets going I guess!) I’m With The Band (spoilt rich girl Arabella goes on tour with the boys - I really need to update this one!)

Coming soon: I’m writing a vampire AU behind the scenes but it probably won’t be published that soon as I have so much on.

Do you accept prompts: Yes but I am sooooo slow, sorry if you have ever sent me a request I will get round to it I promise!

Upcoming story you are most excited to write: I’m most excited about writing more chapters of Forbidden at the mo, but I’m impatient to get on to the next bit of Ice Cold (just got to finish a chapter I’m struggling with first).

Upcoming story you’re most excited about: I hear one of my all-time fave stories Pacifier by @pacifymebby is coming to an end soon and I can’t wait to see how it pans out (please don’t make me cry anymore! 😭)

Not sure who else has been tagged but if any of my other lovely writer mutuals want to do it go ahead! 😘

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 70 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Raja and Raven had a little office tryst, Violet planned for some overtime, and Courtney decided to take her work to Bianca’s for the night.

This Chapter: Bianca worries, Dahlia and Adore have a showdown, Gigi and Symone have a night in, and Team Baby has a night out.

***

Bianca had just finished laying out the takeout and was opening a bottle of wine when she heard the gentle click of Courtney’s footsteps down the hall.

“B?”

“I’m in the den!” Bianca called out, grinning when Courtney appeared in the doorway, an overstuffed banker’s box in her arms. Bianca eyed her up, appreciating her good little assistant ensemble, which she knew from the photos earlier concealed deeply naughty lingerie. “Hi, baby. Are you hungry? I got By Chloe.”

Courtney smiled, putting down the box and kicking off her heels. “You know, you don’t have to eat vegan food all the time just because of me.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Come here.” Bianca set down the full wine glasses, reaching her arms towards Courtney, who collapsed beside her on the sofa, clearly exhausted. Bianca pulled her close for a soft kiss, then wrapped her into an embrace. “Long day?”

“Mmhmm…” Courtney snuggled against her, nuzzling into her neck. After letting out a deep sigh, she mumbled, “I gotta get back to work.”

“You should eat first,” Bianca reasoned.

“Okay.” Courtney sighed again, making no move to escape her arms.

“Or we could just lie down for a bit.” Bianca ran a hand through her hair.

“No.” Courtney pulled back with a groan, rubbing her eyes. “If I do that, I’ll never finish.”

She slid to the ground, kneeling in front of the coffee table, and began unpacking the box. Labels, cards, envelopes, highlighters, a spreadsheet full of notes...It all looked like a huge pain in the ass to Bianca. Unlike most of her friends, Bianca actually had done this kind of tedious administrative work back when she was starting out, and just seeing it made her skin start to itch.

She turned her attention to the food, quietly making up a plate for Courtney and sliding it over to her.

“Thanks,” Courtney said gratefully, resting her head against Bianca’s knee. “You’re the best.”

“You deserve an actual dinner break,” Bianca said, trying to choose her words carefully so as not to overstep.

“Yeah, maybe, but I’m not gonna be able to relax until this stuff is done.”

“Fair enough,” Bianca said, attempting to feed her a piece of a zucchini fritter. She took it, playfully biting Bianca’s finger in the process. “She’s running you ragged, huh?”

“I guess. I don’t know, it might just be me. I’m not really keeping up with things the way I should,” Courtney explained. “Maybe it’s the weather. I don’t think I’m handling it very well.”

“Not ready for the New York winter?” Bianca asked, playing gently with her hair.

“No, guess not,” Courtney said. “I just...hear Christmas music and want to go to the beach.”

Bianca laughed, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead. “Ah. Southern hemisphere problems?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Alright, well...I’ll do my best to keep you warm,” Bianca said, and Courtney giggled, fluttering her lashes up at her before going back to her work.

It made sense that the weather would get to her. Spending her whole childhood in Australia and then college in San Diego must have done little to prepare her for how cold and dreary New York got in the winter. She didn’t have the heart to tell her that she hadn’t even seen the worst of it--January was bound to be even colder. It gave her an idea, though, so while Courtney continued working, Bianca shot off a text to her travel agent.

Once she had the ball rolling with Victoria, she looked back at Courtney’s progress, chuckling to herself over the custom stamps--not only that, but they were clearly winter themed, the Galactica logo covered in glittering icicles.

“What are you laughing at?” Courtney asked, diligently checking each name off her spreadsheet as she went.

“The stamps. They’re so Fame.” Bianca picked one up, looking it over.

“Oh yeah. Cute, huh?” Courtney said, sticking down a label.

“Very. So...do I get a card this year?”

“Yeah, but you’re in a different category.”

“The shithouse category?” Bianca guessed.

“No. You’re getting a gift.” Courtney turned to grin at her. “So I can deal with you on Monday.”

“Do you have the card?” Bianca asked, now curious. If she was still getting a gift, then maybe Fame wasn’t as angry as she seemed on Tuesday.

“Yeah, hang on.” Courtney combed carefully through one of the stacks, pulling out Bianca’s card.

A post-it was affixed to the front that said ‘Cristal.’ Not too bad. Bianca actually felt a bit optimistic until she opened the card. There was the typical printed message. At the top, in Fame’s loopy cursive, she’d written, ‘Bianca,’ which was bad enough--no ‘dear’ or ‘darling’ as usual. But worse, the bottom, which simply read ‘Regards, Fame.’

Oof.

A slightly sick feeling curled in Bianca’s stomach, that she tried to ignore by joking, “Well, at least she didn’t write ‘fuck you.’”

“You left her dinner party before they served dinner. You knew she’d be mad, right?” Courtney said.

“I know, I know…” Bianca set the card back on the table, watching as Courtney put it back into the right stack, then continued carefully peeling labels off the sheet and sticking them on the envelopes.

“I’m sorry, though. I feel a little responsible.”

“That’s true, this is all your fault. For being too damn irresistible.”

Courtney laughed as Bianca settled back against the sofa cushions, when suddenly, a thought flashed through her head.

“So uh, just out of curiosity, what does Anna Wintour’s card say?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Courtney giggled.

“Come on…”

“No! That’s a federal offense!”

“I’ll risk the jail time. Please?” Bianca wheedled, reaching out towards the box. “She’s my competition, I have to know!”

“No!” Courtney slapped her hand away.

“Not sure why you’re being so protective of Anna Wintour,” Bianca grumbled.

“Well, I’m seeing her on the side,” Courtney quipped, then tossed a gleeful look back at Bianca, adding, “What can I say? I like older women.”

“Very funny.” Bianca pretended to be annoyed, but couldn’t help be charmed at how proud Courtney looked of herself in that moment.

“Awww, B…” Courtney climbed up onto the sofa, straddling her. “You know I love you. And only you.”

“Yeah?” Bianca found it impossible to keep pretending to pout with Courtney so close, so soft, smelling so good. Her dimples deepened, against her will, as Courtney kissed along her jaw to her neck.

“Yeah…” Courtney started to suck gently on her pulse point as Bianca’s fingers traveled up her thighs, disappearing under her skirt.

“Hmm, if you say so…”

“B, we really can’t,” Courtney began breathlessly, “I have to keep working, or-”

“Or what?” Bianca growled, voice low, the telltale shiver making her even bolder, fingers edging along the lace of her panties, the ones that had kept Bianca drooling over her photos all afternoon.

“Or I...” Courtney’s own fingers dug into Bianca’s shoulders, whimpering, “Oh, Anna.”

“Get offa me!” Bianca barked, shoving her playfully as she laughed and laughed. “Finish your damn cards.”

***

“What are you doing here?” Dahlia asked, irritated. She had just arrived at the warehouse for their band’s gig, her bass strapped to her back, and before she’d even spotted Adore, Aja or Alex, she’d seen Pearl, holding court by the bar with a couple of hangers-on, a heavy camera against her hip.

“Working,” Pearl said, gesturing to the camera that was slung over her shoulder. “Gotta stay up to date with the trends.”

Dahlia put her hands on her hips, unable to buy that she was there by accident. “Oh yeah, you just randomly decided to come here tonight, where we’d randomly be performing?”

“Pretty awesome coincidence, huh?” Pearl asked, a sparkle in her blue eyes that Dahlia would probably have found charming if she wasn't so pissed. “Someone upstairs must really love me.”

“Come on. This isn’t cool. The club is one thing, but this is my real life.”

“Not everything is about you, Dahlia,” Pearl said, rolling her eyes, and Dahlia found herself getting even angrier.

Why couldn’t Pearl just keep whatever stupid thing was going on between them in a box, like she could?

Of course she was sexy, and fun, and in another lifetime, Dahlia might even have let herself fall for her--but the reality of the situation was that she didn’t have that luxury, and seeing her here only confused things.

“How do you think Adore will feel if she sees you?” Dahlia asked, trying not to get distracted by her tongue playing coyly with the straw.

“I don’t know, but where do you think we met in the first place? At a party just like this one. We’re gonna run into each other, it’s a small town.”

“Actually, it’s not a small town, it’s a big ass city. But you are a huge dick,” Dahlia said, flouncing away. The fucking nerve of her.

Of course, as expected, the first thing Adore asked when she finally reached the group was, “What were you doing talking to Pearl?”

Ugh. This was gonna be a bitch to explain.

“Well, she’s sort of been...coming to the club. While I’m working.”

“Like…” the wheels turned in Adore’s head, finally guessing, “Like to hit on you?”

“I guess, in a way, but not exactly. She’s just like, a client. Who unfortunately knows my real name, so…” Dahlia shrugged. “It’s good money, you know?”

“That’s…” Adore seemed to be searching for the right words, her brow furrowed, her lips turned down in a frown. “That’s fucked, Dahlia. She’s my ex.”

“It’s my job, Adore.” Dahlia could find herself getting impatient. This wasn’t something she expected Adore to understand. Adore didn’t even have to work. Her sister gave her money to fuck around and focus all her time and energy on her music. But still, it should be obvious that Dahlia’s life wasn’t charmed like Adore’s; she worked her ass off, literally. “And she may suck, but she’s a hell of a lot better than the disgusting, mouth-breathing dudes I usually have to strip for!”

“So,” Adore stepped closer, crossing her arms. “Not only are you stripping for my ex-girlfriend, and doing god knows what else-”

“Watch it, bitch-”

“But you’re like, enjoying it?” Adore demanded, and Dahlia very much did not appreciate her tone.

“I didn’t say that! She’s just like, not hideous, and usually-” Dahlia stopped. “You know what, fuck this, I don’t have to explain myself to you, you privileged fuck!”

“Are you fucking-”

“Guys, guys, guys, what the hell is going on?” Alex cut in far too late to actually stop the runaway train. “Can you both chill, we have to play a set in like 20 minutes.”

“Yeah guys, chill,” Aja added halfheartedly, though from the look on their face, they seemed to be enjoying the show, watching with one eyebrow raised while sipping a beer.

“I’m not playing with her!” Adore exclaimed, stomping her foot like the spoiled baby she was. “She’s a fucking traitor, and a slut, and-”

“Go fuck yourself!” Dahlia shouted back, turning and storming off for the second time that night, through the crowd, all the way back to Pearl, who was chatting casually with some girl, completely oblivious to the shitstorm that she’d created.

Pearl looked up at Dahlia, at her heaving chest and flushed cheeks, and smiled. “Hi, cupcake. Back for more banter?”

“Shut up!” Dahlia said, stepping forward. “Just shut up.”

“Okay, baby.” Pearl’s eyes drifted from Dahlia’s eyes down to her lips, and then back up. They were standing close now, and Dahlia knew that Pearl could feel her pounding heartbeat. She tangled her hands into Pearl’s perfectly tousled blonde hair, grabbing fistsfuls of it as she pressed their lips together.

Pearl immediately responded--either she didn’t know that Dahlia was mostly doing this to make a point to Adore, or she didn’t care, kissing her back with passion, hands gripping her waist. When they broke apart, panting, Dahlia asked, “Wanna get out of here?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Pearl responded, with a grin that said she very much thought Dahlia would ask. Dahlia rolled her eyes, anxious to wipe that stupid smirk right off her face.

“I told you to shut up. Come on, you’re paying for the cab.”

She grabbed Pearl’s wrist, pulling her from the crowded warehouse without so much as a glance back at Adore or her pathetic face.

***

Hearing Dahlia gasp and moan was so satisfying, Pearl thought she might come just from listening to it. Her face was buried in her pussy, savoring the taste of her, tongue not resting until her hips finally stilled and whimpers began to sound from Pearl licking her clit in its oversensitive state. Pearl pressed one more kiss to her lower belly before sitting up, gazing at her sprawled on the bed.

She was as sinfully sexy as ever--even sweaty and disheveled, her hair and makeup were still a dream, long lashes fluttering on her cheeks, dark curls spread out around her head. Her bra was half on, tits pulled out of the cups, nipples pert and erect. Pearl lay down next to her, propped up on her elbow, trailing a hand over her heated skin.

“How’re you feeling, cupcake?”

“No complaints,” Dahlia panted out, her perfect tits rising and falling rapidly.

“Oh no? That’s good.” Pearl grinned.

“How ‘bout you? Was it everything you imagined?” Dahlia asked, and Pearl couldn’t help but chuckle at her dry tone.

“And more…” Pearl leaned forward, kissing her cheek once more before before heaving herself up. She searched the dimly lit room for her clothes, wondering how and when her left shoe got flung so far away from the bed.

When she was fully dressed, she turned back to Dahlia, who had caught her breath and was now sitting up, watching her with those dark, cat-like eyes. She saw by Dahlia’s slightly puzzled expression that she was perhaps expecting her to stay longer, and couldn’t help but feel like that was a win.

“So...I guess I’ll see you at the club?” Pearl said, eyes sweeping over her body once more, trying to memorize every inch of her in that delectable state. “No extra funny business, but you know I love wing night.”

“Sure,” Dahlia rolled her eyes. “Or…” she bit her lip, looking Pearl square in the eye, fearless and fierce. “If you want, you could have my number.”

Victory at last.

Pearl grinned, feeling like the cat that ate the canary. “Sounds great, doll.”

***

“What about this one?” Violet looked over at Max, who was holding up a beige suit jacket with peonies in shades of pink.

“Maybe…” Violet bit her lip, but she knew it wasn’t what she was looking for. “No. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Max smiled, putting the jacket back on the rack, the coffee Violet had bought for him in his other hand. “We’ll find something.”

They were in the Gucci store, Max kind enough to tag along with her when she had texted and asked if he had time to help her out, getting around Manhattan on crutches by herself an absolute nightmare.

When they had arrived, the store clerk had given both of them a disdainful, and Violet was pretty sure that he would have kicked them out if it wasn’t for her Dior purse and how cearly expensive Max’s shoes where, the sharp taste of shame in her mouth when she had nearly stumbled on the store steps because of the snow.

“I know I’m being difficult,” Violet looked around. “I just need…”

Violet hadn’t really planned on getting Sutan anything more than socks, no matter what Raven had suggested, a novelty pair with croissants on them hidden on the bottom of her underwear drawer, but when she had gotten home yesterday, she had seen a regular mountain of designer boxes and bags all stacked high on Sutan’s designated dumping spot in the kitchen.

She knew it probably didn’t matter to him, that Sutan would love the socks, her gift to his mother and Raja and Raven much more extravagant, but she refused to accept anything designer and give socks in return. It wasn’t a smart financial decision, actually, it was bordering on downright idiotic, but she had spent so little on food staying at Sutan’s that she could almost work it in.

“Let’s go look at the sweaters.”

***

“Okay, so, I’m not trying to be ungrateful, but whoever said that this,” Symone shook the big red bowl of popcorn she had in her lap, “tastes like regular old popcorn, is a liar.”

“Come on.” Gigi smiled. “It’s not that bad.”

She and Symone were sitting on the living room couch, The Muppet Christmas Carol playing on the TV, the modeling apartment completely empty except for the two of them.

Everyone else had already gone home for Christmas, Gigi’s flight leaving the next morning, while Symone had said with a laugh that she was delaying going home for as long as she could since this was the first time she didn’t have to answer to her mama.

“Popcorn needs butter.” Symone huffed, but she still took another handful. The skinny pop they were eating had been left by Naomi who had gone home to Los Angeles last week. “I don’t care if I’m a model now.”

“Ooooh,” Gigi giggled, Symone so cool and carefree. “Look at the rebel.”

“What can I say,” Symone smirked, throwing her hair over her shoulder.  “It’s hard being perfect.”

Gigi had tried not to be disappointed when Symone shared that she had been selected by Galactica for their February show, her own booking noticeably absent. Sutan hadn’t seemed to sweat it, her manager not treating her any differently, his faith in her clearly still there since her January was filled with go sees, but it had been a bitter pill to swallow.

“Hey,” Gigi felt an elbow push against her side, and she looked up to see Symone’s brown eyes resting on her face. “Don’t look like that.”

“Look like what?”

“Like you’re not amazing.”

“You think I’m amazing?”

“Of course!” Symone grinned and Gigi could feel warmth wash over her body, her fingertips tingling, her stomach fluttering with butterflies.

***

Jinkx tapped Bianca on the shoulder, fixing her face with a puzzled expression as she turned around, glass of champagne in hand, strangers’ chatter barely audible over the Christmas music. The party was perfectly fine, if boring, one of those mandatory events to attend every year, making nice with all the big shots if you wanted them to keep donating to your charity foundations--which Jinkx definitely did.

“Hi...I’m sorry to bother you ma’am, but you look terribly familiar…” JInkx tilted her head, a wicked grin on her red lips. “Have we met before? It’s been so long, I hardly remember-”

“Shut up, cunt,” Bianca laughed, sweeping her into a hug and holding her tight. “How are you?”

“Well, so much has happened since the last time we saw each other…” Jinkx swept her red hair over her shoulder, her dress for the evening a stunning green number with sequins. “I’ve had 7 marriages and 12 kids-”

“Alright, alright…” Bianca cut her off, rolling her eyes even though she was smiling. “I’m sorry.” She put her glass down on a nearby table, turning her back to the party so she could focus entirely on Jinkx. “I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Jinkx grinned mischievously, quirking an eyebrow. “Young love, huh?” Jinkx didn’t keep up with the press like she used to, but it had been impossible to miss Bianca splashed all over Manhattan's premiere gossip blog sucking face.

“Something like that,” Bianca grinned back.

Jinkx shook her head in amazement. She’d known Bianca for 20 years, and seeing her driven to distraction by romance was completely out of character, making Jinkx certain that whoever this girl was, she must be something truly special.

“So, did you bring her tonight? I’m dying to meet her,” Jinkx said, linking her arm through Bianca’s.

“And subject her to one of Ted’s rambling speeches? No thanks.”

“Aww, well, that’s a shame.” Jinkx took a sip of her cranberry spritzer, waiting a beat before asking, “So...what does the crew think? Are they playing nice?”

Bianca cut her eyes at Jinkx, asking, “Do they ever?”

“Well...I might not be the best judge of that...but no.” It still stung a little, the way Jinkx’ friendships with that entire group had fallen apart years ago, after her disastrous failed engagement with Sutan and subsequent downward spiral, the last few months nothing but hazy, indistinct memories--she was probably lucky that she didn’t remember most of it.

Only Bianca had kept in touch with her through all the worst times. Not that she blamed the others; she’d been a full mess, and anyone in their right mind would have walked away.

She was just lucky that Bianca happened to be crazy enough to stick around.

“Juju’s been okay,” Bianca offered, sighing a little. “She called me the other day and apologized. Even though I know she disapproves. In some ways, it’s worse than Raja and the rest of them, you know? When the nice one disapproves? But at least she’s trying.”

“I get that.” Jinkx had seen Juju a few times in recent years, and she’d been warm and sweet, and if Jinkx was braver, she’d have attempted to strike up a relationship again, now that she had years of sobriety under her belt. But somehow, the idea of rejection from the person who’d always been the voice of reason was exponentially scarier than more cold shoulder from Fame or Raja, or Sutan’s cowardly avoidance.

“I know you do. What about you, how are rehearsals going?”

“Oh, things are really heating up. I think...it could be a really good show,” she said, hope blooming on her face. “I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“I can’t wait either, red. I’m real fucking proud of you.” Bianca pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Are you gonna be around for Christmas? I’m putting together a little brunch. Nothing fancy, just the usual group of Jews and orphans.”

Bianca laughed. “Not this year. I decided to whisk Courtney away for a little trip while her office is closed down.”

“Well, that’s predictably extra of you,” Jinkx giggled. “You’ll be back for New Year’s though, right?”

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it!”

***

“Triiiiiiiin!” Adore screeched, racing up to Trinity and throwing her arms around her, hugging her tightly.

Adore very much needed this night out with her girls after last night’s humiliating debacle with Dahlia. The fucking traitorous cunt. Trinity, who was another one of Courtney’s sorority sisters (and low-key maybe Adore’s favorite of that whole group) visiting from Atlanta was the perfect excuse. Being around people who she knew had her back would do a lot to soothe her frayed nerves and bruised ego, the band barely getting through their gig, the angry tears that coursed down her cheeks during their last number fortunately in line with the lyrics.

“Hey girl, how are you?” Trinity asked.

“Right now I’m fucking perfect,” Adore murmured, face buried in her long dark hair.

“Don’t fucking hog her, Adore!” Morgan said, elbowing her in the side.

Trinity took Adore’s face in her hands and looked into her eyes, for the moment ignoring Morgan and Tyra jostling for her attention.

“You alright?” Trinity asked softly, and Adore knew that she was seconds away from tearing up like a big old baby. So she just nodded, and let Trinity fold her into another warm hug

“Hey, there’s a table free!” Tyra exclaimed, quickly dragging Morgan and Tati over, Trinity and Adore trailing behind. “Morgan, you get the first round.”

“I always get the first round,” Morgan protested.

“Omigod, whatever, I’ll get it, you petty bitch.” Tyra rolled her eyes and flounced over to the bar.

Adore wasn’t paying much attention to their bickering, just happy to have Trinity’s arm around her shoulders.

“So, how’s the new job going?” Adore asked her, eyes hopeful as she asked, “Still considering moving here? Pretty please?”

Trinity giggled, tossing her hair. “It’s a possibility. It depends how this whole CMA thing goes.”

“You’ll do great, you’re smart.” Adore waved her hand. “The real question is, what neighborhood do you want to move into? I vote for downtown and not some outer borough garbage like Courtney.”

“Speaking of, where is-”

“Trinity!” Courtney squealed, pushing her way through the crowd and running over to their table, flinging herself into Trinity’s arms.

“Hi baby! You look great, spin around for me.”

“You think?” Courtney beamed, spinning happily to show off the clothes that Adore was certain Bianca had either bought for her or lent from her massive closet. In fact, her jacket looked very familiar. And her earrings. And her boots. Jesus Christ.

“Who wants tequila?!” Tyra exclaimed, setting a bunch of shot glasses down on the table.

“Everyone but Courtney,” Adore laughed, taking a lime and a glass.

“I’ll take one!” Courtney countered, still grinning from ear to ear, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “What the hell, right?”

“Wow, what’s gotten you so happy?” Trinity asked. “Last time we talked, you were super stressed and up to your ass in work.”

“Oh, I still am,” Courtney giggled. “But it’s Saturday, so...cheers, mates!”

She and Trinity clinked glasses and then downed their shots.

“Seriously though...what’s up?” Trinity asked. “Did your dad send you some magical new multivitamin?”

“Man, are you out of the loop,” Morgan said, shaking her head.

“What?”

“She’s getting laid,” Tati explained, and Courtney laughed, coyly fluttering her lashes.

“Ohh, okay. Who’s the lucky douchebag?” Trinity asked, clearly assuming that Courtney was continuing her pattern of dating horrible men and then discarding them quickly.

“My sister,” Adore said pointedly, tossing back her own shot and then biting down on the lime.

Trinity turned back to Courtney, eyes huge, mouth open. “Whoaaaa…”

“Yeah, she’s not even like, a little gay like Tati,” Tyra teased. “She’s gone full lez overnight.”

Courtney laughed again, simpering and giggling, looking happier than Adore had ever seen her--like the world was hers for the taking. She groaned internally, wondering if maybe Jujubee had been right about Bianca giving Courtney way too much hope.

The last thing she needed was to have her heart broken and her dreams crushed, and if it was by Adore’s sister, then she’d feel somewhat responsible.

Shit.

“So like...whoa,” Trinity said again, still in a bit of shock, but clearly amused.

“I’ll get the next round!” Courtney then exclaimed, and began to skip over to the bar.

“Wait up, Court!” Adore called, following her.

Courtney bounced happily up to the bar, quickly getting the bartender’s attention and ordering six Cosmos. Right after tequila shots. Tonight was shaping up to be quite a mess, Adore realized, but shrugged, figuring that getting wild before they all went home for the holidays wouldn’t be the worst thing.

While the bartender began making their drinks, Adore linked her arm through Courtney’s.

“So...uh...how are things going with B, anyway? And feel free to refrain from getting too graphic.”

“I’ll do my best,” Courtney giggled, turning towards Adore with sparkling eyes. “It’s going...so fucking good, Dore. I’ve never met anyone like her, she’s incredible...”

“That’s good,” Adore said. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“It’s more than that,” Courtney said. “It’s like...I always thought I was a pretty happy person, but then she came along and it’s just made everything so much brighter and more wonderful than I ever thought possible. Like I’m seeing colors I never knew existed, you know?”

Shiiiit.

“Okay well...yeah, cool.”

“What’s wrong? I thought you were good with it, did-”

“I am! I’m totally good with it,” Adore said quickly, nodding and forcing a smile. “And I’m really happy for you.”

“But?” Courtney eyes, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Well, it’s just, it’s Bianca. She just sometimes tends to, um…” Adore bit her lip. How the fuck was she supposed to do this? This was her sister, her favorite person in the world, and even though it might be true, talking shit about her in any way except a joke felt wrong. “She’s just not much of a relationship person. You know?”

“Hmm. Yeah, I know.” Courtney paused slightly, thinking, and Adore wished she knew what was going through her head.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Adore continued. “I would feel so shitty, like it was my fault, if she...you know. Did her usual thing with you. Especially if she was giving you the wrong idea, letting you think it’s more serious than...than she can handle.”

“That’s fair,” Courtney said, taking in Adore’s words with such nonchalance that Adore had to wonder if she was even listening.

“She just tends to, like...move on quickly, before things get too real. I think it’s some kind of defense thing, probably because of our-” Adore stopped, realizing she was about to majorly overstep. That tequila shot must have hit her harder than she thought. “I dunno. She just doesn’t really like anything serious. And I know y’all are about to spend Christmas together, and it’s Bianca so she’s gonna buy you a billion presents, and I just don’t want you to think it means...you know...”

“Well…” Courtney pressed her lips together, handing her credit card over to the bartender before busting out a smug, “She told me she loved me.”

“She what?!” Adore’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Love? That was new. That was major.

“Mmhmm…” Courtney took one of the cocktails into her hands, sipping it daintily.

Well. It appeared that her sister’s nearest and dearest friends were dead fucking wrong. It also explained why Courtney looked self-satisfied as fuck, instead of defensive or annoyed. And as for Adore, what she felt mostly was relief, and joy, and a tiny bit of guilt for being talked out of giving Bianca the benefit of the doubt.

“Well, shit. Okay, you know what? I take back everything I said. You’re in uncharted territory.” She picked up one of the drinks and held it out. “Cheers, bitch.”

“Cheers,” Courtney giggled, taking another sip. She took her card back from the bartender and began collecting the drinks. Adore helped, taking three of them into her own hands.

“So, can I be the flower girl at your wedding?” she asked, heading back over to their table.

Courtney laughed gaily, bumping Adore with her hip, showing her that there were no hard feelings at all.

***

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Della Arc Reviews: The Great Dime Chase!

Welcome back all you happy people, to my look at the series first arc! I covered the pilot last week and this week i’m going full speed ahead with two more review for this arc, one more for the Lena arc all leading up to BOTH finsihing up next week for DUCK WEEK, my huge celebration of the final episode of Ducktales 2017. So with all that in mind when we last left off the kids moved in, webby gained friends, Donald and Scrooge made the first steps to patching up.. and Dewey found out his mom was also invovled with their adventures setting this arc off. 

This is also where the airing order reshuffling started as this episode was pushed up by two replacing impossible summit as the third episode... and where said order reshuffling for both this arc and the Lena arc really bit Disney in the ass by giving fans the wrong idea about the series pacing. See the original idea was to have a few episodes as a buffer, since this arc itself is only about 5 episodes long, so the pacing would be more spread out and fans while likely getting impatient for the della mystery to be resolved, would expect it to take about that long after a while. The same was clearly planned for the Lena arc. 

The problem is Disney didn’t give one shit about proper airing order, story pacing or any of that at the time despite their most popular show at said time having the same pacing structure and having been aired in the right order. So as a result and as most of you already know, season 1′s structure was a mess: The globetrotting adventure episodes were off ballance with ones set in Duckburg itself, Scrooge sometimes felt like a supporitng character in the first half due to his two focus episodes being crunched to the back for holidays... it was bad. And it was worst here as by having both the Della and Lena arcs progress pretty quickly in the first 6.. it was thus jarring and grating that there was zero progress for either in the rest of the first half, and they had to move the spear of selene up a few episodes when they came back just to make up for it.. which still messed with pacing as that arc wouldn’t be picked up until the final three episodes solving nothing. This made fans blame the creators for sloppy pacing and for taking too long to get to the Della thing when they’d done nothing wrong and HAD staggered it out. It wasn’t till Frank later revealed the order was a bit bungled we got the message and until a few months into the series being on Disney Plus we got a proper order for the series. And again, the arc has pacing issues we’ll get to without this.. but they were made so much work by Disney blatantly disrespecting and ingoring their creative team. 

I will give credit where it’s due though: Disney learned from it. While Season 2 had a few episodes shuffled around, this time it was due to trying out that binge airing strategy they were doing to get shows on Disney Plus faster, airing DuckBombs (Woo-Ooo!) frequently, so they wanted the airing to flow properly with that without screwing up the flow fo the season more than they absolutely had to. They were being careful and delberate this time not to make the same mistake and with season 3, they simply havent’ shuffled the airing order at all> The only two episodes aired out of order were holiday episodes purposefully made to air at the right time and detached from the season as a whole. This stretches to other shows too: Amphibia is two seasons in and Owl House got through it’s whole season with at worst minimal changes to the airing lineup and the arcs all being properly spaced and aired as intended. I give Disney a lot of shit, rightfully so, but I will give them all the credit when they learn from their mistakes and they REALLY did here, learning to trust their creators to know when to actually make an episode and simply having them set aside holiday episodes if they want one. 

Otherwise not a lot of lead in for this one: It introduces a bunch of the supporting cast, reintroduces the board in full, and in general is a pretty good episode. Find out why under the cut. 

We open with the introduction of the shows go to Show Within a Show Ottoman Empire. And what I’d forgotten was Louie wasn’t always into it but there’s a subtle arc to it: he gets into it, slowly obesses over it, by the end of the season he’s got his brothers into it, it’s not a huge thing but it’s a little detail I can’t help but enjoy a hell of a lot.  But him not liking it is part of a larger problem Scrooge has picked up on: Louie’s laziness has reached godlike new levels: he’s opened about 7 cans of PEP! and only taken a sip from each, won’t change the channel because the remote, which is right next to him and would only take him hopping slightly to the left to get to it or incnching over a bit is “too far”. Scrooge finally blows up at the sight when Louie tosses his phone away for not being charged and assumes he can get another one because “We’re rich”. Scrooge corrects him “I”m rich!” and then drags him off by the hoodie with him to the office so he’ll learn the value of a hard day’s work. And really.. the scene is a good showcase for Scrooge: Louie is acting like the embodiment of all deadbeats and Scrooge is still VERY patient with the boy until it’s very clear he needs a wakeup call. Given Scrooge has a temper on the best of occasions it really shows he’s trying with the boys, and only really snapped when it was clear Louie NEEDED someone to snap at him and snap him out of his bullshit. 

Meanwhile Dewey sneaks into Webby’s room to read her secret file on the McDuck family only to LITERALLY be caught red handed as she put glitter on her outside.. because it looks pretty. And as a security measure. Given she lives with a trained spy who likely has riffled through her stuff at least once, or would at least solely try to check her files just to make sure their secure, and lives in a place that gets broken into or nearly blown up, both by Glomgold, on a regular basis, i’d expect no less. But she also points out the obvious once he explains he’s looking for information on his family: He could’ve just asked. As we saw back in Woo-ooo! like yours truly webby will gladly go on about things she’s obsessed about at the drop of a hat and has likely been dying for someone to share her vast conspiracy board with. As for why he didn’t do the obvious, keep in mind he doesn’t know Webby well this point, so he dosen’t know what questions he asked might set her off and also doesn’t know WHY his uncles don’t talk about her, so he’s being cautious and it’s a nice foreshadowing for his secret keeping throughout the arc.. and how it’s an inherently dumb and selfish idea that only slows down his investigation. 

So naturally given the sequel hook at the end of the pilot, he asks about Della. And after drawing the curtains and making sure Scrooge isn’t around to listen Webby asks what HE knows. Naturally given this is a whole story arc he only knows what she looks like from an old photo of her dunking donald’s head in his birthday cake, and Webby.. knows even less. No one talks about Della and the last time anyone did, a mailmain brought some junk mail with her name on it, Scrooge bought out the post office and they never saw that mail man again. Webby naturally thinks Scrooge murdered him... and while I don’t think he went THAT far, I pity that poor shcmoe and whatever ice floe he’s been banished to. And not a small villiage in the arctic mind you like an actual ice floe scrooge left him on with a lifetimes suply of beans.

 This also admittedly answers a question i’ve been griping about for some time that turns out had a logical answer: I thought he’d somehow wiped her out from public record and the internet and then magically put her back. I was wrong and simply hadn’t rewatched this episode and connected the dots. He likely didn’t do.. any of that, but the triplets likely never thought to internet search her with Donald because as far as they knew Donald was an average person, and thus their mom would be too and looking her up wouldn’t tell her anything about them. It still leaves the plot hole of how they knew about Scrooge and not the Della search, I have no answer for that one, but hey sometimes these things happen and it’s a good enough show I can ignore it. Point is they had no reason to research her before then and Donald likely went out of his way to hide anything about her when they visited places.  Likewise Scrooge was likely so miserable and consumed with his search, and once that was called off his failure, he likely pulled every archive and artifact for his own personal collection to pour over them in sadness and loss and simply put most of it back into the public once the boys helped him heal by the end of the season and the truth was out there. Likewise while the internet info was likely there after this episode too Dewey, as foolish as he can be, likely wasn’t stupid enough to look up his mom’s name on his uncle’s wifi. While Scrooge likely isn’t tech savy, given how paranoid he is and how much of a sore spot this is, it’s not a stretch to have him ask gyro to monitor his wifi for certain key words. So yeah i’ll admit when I was wrong and there was a logical explanation, if still with some holes, all along.

Anyways Webby has one place she hasnt’ been able to get into that might have the answers: Scrooge’s Personal Archives. And as it turns out, both parties are heading to the bin: Scrooge since, much like the comics, that’s where his office is, and Webby and Dewey for the same reason The bin being Scrooge’s buisness center, where his office is where he has meetings where a lot of his emoployees are is very accurate to the comics, as while the layout was never entirely consient apart from “Scrooge’s office is the only way in and out of the bin itself” and said office having a very consistent and iconic look that the series didn’t change. But as we’ll see they added two extra parts to it that in the comics scrooge would Balk at the expense of but this scrooge, whiel still probably not happy about the extra money, knows are vitally necessary. 

Speaking of which the plot splits in two pretty cleanly once we actually get to the bin: Scrooge has no real issue with the kids going to the archives and no glimmer of their real intention, so the plots don't’ meet up again outside of when Louie’s literally crashes into Dewey and Webby’s for a second. There’s some thematic connections, cutaways and an intercut montage, but nothing outside of that. So as is tradition for me i’m covering them seperatly and since it’s both the reason why i’m covering this episode and our B-Plot, let’s start with the archives Webby and Dewey in The Mad Archivist of Scrooge McDuck!

Webby and Dewey head to the archive where we meet Quackfaster. In the comics she’s scrooges long suffering secretary, emphasis on suffering. He barely pays her, takes expenses out of her paycheck and she generally seems once minute away from a nervous breakdown at any given time. What i’m saying is the character and the “gag” have not aged well in any way shape or form so instead here she was revamped. Frank and Matt leaned on Scrooge’s love for adventure more than his greed at first, and had his thrill-seeking be his vice more. It does make sense as greed isn’t nearly as good as it was to people in the 40′s and especially the 80′s, but they eventually clearly realized they made it a bit too subtle, as it’s still an iconic part of the character and played it up a bit more in seasons 2 and 3, to the point two of his worst moments in backstory, both revealed in season 3, come from his greed. They found a nice ballance and I do think having his adventuring also be a vice was a nice change of  pace.  As such, they came up with the idea that he’d hire people who like him are exceptionally talented but also a bit reckless and unhinged. The kind of people most employers would unfairly shut the door on but Scrooge sees their true talent and worth and treats them with the respect they deserve. People who in most other works would be super villains, but here are kept from that by being given honest jobs for their talents and a boss who has no intention of ripping them off or undermining them. IT’s a great concept and I wish we’d saw more than two people hired with that in mind, but the two we got are great.

So with all this Quackfaster was reinvented with this idea in mind to someone entirely different but infinitely more entertaining: She’s now a ham of the highest order, not literally, and slightly unballanced. She also refuses to help Dewey until he completes some challenges for her, sorting out a code in the dewey decimel system

And in sorting the books to get to know the archives. Webby is all for it naturally as this is a dream for her: she’s likely tried to access the place for years and couldn’t as a non-relative, something Scrooge hopefully relaxes in the future, so a giant pile of books about adventuring, Scrooge (including an apparently 7 volumes on his favorite smells one of which Webby gives a happy “I knew it” upon finding out it was fresh baked cookies), and places he’s been, including a sly nod to Plain Awful. This is a hallmark of the show making smaller nods to the past incarnations without going into them or doing those adventures again and while I was at first disappointed those tales already happened in some form, I now get they simply wanted to tell NEW ONES, and were a big as fan of the olds ones as most of you reading this and myself. Though between you and me I was never a big fan of the square eggs story. Good idea just a weird and not all that funny execution. 

Dewey however has the patience of a coked up ferret who also took some shrooms and being Dewey tries simply demanding she tell him. Naturally yelling at the weird hammy lady intrusted to guard the private library of someone whose a certified badass.. is not a smart or correct move and Quackfaster decides if they can’t respect the archives they’ll become PART OF THE ARCHIVES and pulls out a crescent shaped sword to apparently murder them. 

So a chase ensues with the two trying to simply throw books at her, escape her and only narrowly doing so for a minute when Louie pops up being chased by a giant robot made by a smaller robot using a giant change machine. I love this show. 

Eventually their backed into a corner while Dewey defiantly demands info on his mom. And his impatience and anger is understandable: this is the first time in his ten or so year old life he’s had ANY chance of learning anything on her.. and he’s having to do various fetch quests. While he could use some tact, may not get him stabbed so much, his viewpoint is understandable. 

Thankfully it turns out Quackfaster was just doing a Mr.Miaygi and secretly testing them, having chased them to the book Dewey wanted, and said code she had them find earlier is the login for the vault. Granted it also has them put away some books (”How much of this is us just doing your job for you?” “About fiffttty perceeennnt”), but she works for scrooge. While he thankfully pays her a living wage here he still can’t be paying her much. Still they find their way to a secret vault and Dewey gets stabbed a bit to verify he is a mcduck.. and let into Scrooge’s secret room, full of treasures Della likely gathered. As I said, he DID put them aside somewhere, and likely just wanted them to cry over and donald didn’t fight it since the last thing he wanted was the boys learning their legacy. D

The telling part here though, despite accusations later.. is that Dewey’s first instinct upon finding this is  to tell his brothers.  Keep in mind Dewey’s all consuming need for attention and validiation, all of which he could possibly get and only have to share with Webby. He has every selfish reason for not telling them.. but he wants to. He knows they deserve to learn to. The only wrinkle is webby finding a note saying “Scrooge i’m taking the spear of selene, i’m sorry”. He decides to hide it for their sake right then and there. But while part of this as we’ll get into later in the week is him simply being afraid of what he’ll find personally.. it’s fair to NOT want to tell them. To try and protect them from the horrible truth whatever it may be. He has no way of knowing the betryal was nonexistant here and neither did we. It’s not the right course of action, awful truth or no they deserved to know too and both would say as much later, she’s their mom: good person or bad they know.. but like his uncles he’s not hiding this out of malice but because the truth might genuinely hurt them.. and as we’ll learn.. it will.. oh boy will it ever. But more on that next week and more on the arc itself later this week. What about the rest of the episode?

Louie in The Great Dime Chase! and Scrooge in The Boardroom Full of Heartless Assholes!

Winding back a few hours, Scrooge drags Louie up to his office, where the boy is genuinely impressed.. before naturally trying to take a swim in the money while Scrooge tries to tell him about his number one dime. Scrooge stops him before head injury occurs explaining that yes, even the money thing requires proper training: Louie would’ve just cracked his skull open and this would’ve either gotten really dark really fast or turned into a horrifying and hilarious child death version of weekend at bernies. It’s what Louie would’ve wanted. Scrooge can do it because he’s built up the muscle and resistance over time, strong enough and skilled enough to travel through the solid metal and dive into it. It’s a nice nod to life and times: While Scrooge didn’t necesarily train to swim in money, he bathed in it at first and when he needed to during an adventure discovered he could swim through it going from one barrel of his cash to another. So tweaking that slightly to an earned skill, and one Louie will have leanred by the end of the season, was a billiant move..and a way of silencing all those head injury jokes. 

But their soon interrupted by the board, who Scrooge dosen’t recall having a meeting with and likely pull this kind of shit all the time when they can get Scrooge. It makes even more sense after the Della reveal, as he likely has to be forced into dealing with the men who, while as far as he knew were trying to help him, still pulled him away from Della.. and in one case, had a shit eating grin about it. Seriously Bradford you smirked evilly about your nemesis not being able to rescue his daughter how do you NOT get that your the bad guy?

The meeting ends up being boring with Louie asleep and Scrooge almost there, as let’s face it most board meetings probably are, until Gyro barges in! It’s our first apperance of 2017 Gyro and a lot of people were upset by how much more of an ass he was. Me, while I like the kind and gentle original, like the more mad sciency version here and feel Jim Rash did a good job with it, and  I only really hate it when he’s around Fenton, and the show eventually addressed how fucked up that was in Season 3 after downplaying it in Season 2 by having them barely interact and have Gyro genuienly show some pride. Otherwise I like my insane prideful version even if I get why some don’t like it as it is nothing like the comics, but as we see with Donald not being a lot like the comics version isn’t a bad thing. 

IT’s one hell of a character establishing moment, as he barges in, is rude to everyone and has to read cue cards to properly intro his latest invention Little Bulb, Gyro’s most iconic invention whose made here to help people not do work. The Board is skeptical though as most of Gyro’s inventions have turned evil, a nice nod to the fact that most of Gyro’s robots in the original series, who are in fact on a list of previous inventions.. turned evil and tried to kill people. IT also shows his warmer side as he insists they aren’t evil just misunderstood, or at least half were anyway, and tries to cover for Little Bulb shaking his fist at them and doing a throat slitting gesture... which while Bradford plays dumb about what that means.. he’s worked in organized Villainy for at least 55 years. He knows what that gesture means. It’s Heron’s favorite. And even if he didn’t he’s also worked with Scrooge for around 30. It’s also Scrooge’s favorite. So it’s rejected though Scrooge encourages Gyro who vows they’ll understand one day and they’ll all pay. Really should save that for outside. 

Scrooge vouches for the board to Louie who questions such a slam dunk, pointing out he trusts their judgment.. mostly because he dosen’t know they’ve been embezzling from him to fund an evil spy orginzation the whole time but still, he usually trusts them. He would’ve found a way to fire them if he didn’t on the Della thing. But sometimes they overstep and they undermine that statment by suggesting cuts to the Bin’s budget, starting with Magical defenses “Do you know how many curses I have on my head?”. And props to the creators as they apparnetly had the whole Bombie idea in mind this far back, and as Bradford later shows towards the end of next season when he lures Louie into cutting it, he KNOWS where that money goes. He just was trying to feign ignorance to get Scrooge killed if he could. Clever bastard. 

So Louie goes to get a drink, and naturally scrooge’s drink machine in his office not only charges but requires an extra ten cents. Louie assumes the dime in his office is an emergency Dime only to walk in on Scrooge giving the full story. As you all likely know, it’s his number one dime, with the origin taken straight from life and times: He was a poor shoe shine, and he worked hard to clean off a ditchdigger’s muddy boots, working himself to the bone.. only to get an American dime which inspired him both to work harder and smarter than anyone and to go to America to seek his fourtune. There’s some extra steps in the original material, and another bit that the show would also adapt later that we’ll get to next week, but point is it’s his symbol of all his hard work.. that Louie just sent into the vending machine.  So said great chase insures as Louie follows the dime, as it’s emptied from the vending machine.. by a gull janitor we only see this season. And he’s a really likeable guy I wish we’d learned more. He then faces his and Charles Xavier’s greatest enemy THE STAIRS. There’s a runner about Louie having to constnatly run up and down the massive amount of stairs the bin has as someone else takes the elevator and by the climax it’s been taken out entirely. It’s pretty great.  So Louie’s seemingly screwed and instead looks up how to pick a lock on YouTube.. no really. That’s what he does. Frank outright mentioned this in an interview, pointing out they wanted the kids to act like a kid would.. and props to him that’s what a kid would do. Hell that’s what I would do if I were locked out of a place and time was of the essence. Either that or look up a step by step instruction on google. He then runs into Gyro though, and gets the idea to use LIttle Bulb, convinces Gyro he has money and would like to invest and just needs to borrow the little guy and Gyro is happy to agree to it. 

Naturally though, Louie’s laziness and a volatile machine who only likes one people just like his daddy, do not mix and Louie leaves sorting the coins to it while he watches Ottoman Empire, actually getting really sucked into it. IN fairness he did start with the Glomgold episode. Little Bulb meanwhile shows just how awesome he is by turning himself into a giant coni sorting mech by rewiring and reconfiguring the coin sorter.. and naturally given who made hi going mad with power. So while he did get the dime out.. he’s not horrifyingly obessed with chasing it and the real great dime chase begins. 

Back at the meeting Scrooge continues to debate the Buzzards who now want to cut staff, both of whom Scrooge rightfully defends. While Gyro is a bit unhinged, his inventions have likely made the company millions and saved them billions, and while Quackfaster is the same as we just saw, there’s a method to her madness and her laziness. And given Quackfaster works two additional jobs to afford a nice retirement, it’s clear that while he pays them decently he’s likely still not paying them gobs. With the power of hindsight i’ts very clear Bradford just wants to try if he can to eliminate two sources of chaos and backup for Scrooge and when Scrooge sarcastically suggests just getting rid of the bin, Bradford goes with it with a shit eating grin, but it’s very clear by that and Scrooge’s frustration this is a non starter, and Bradford’s likely doing it just because he frankly knows it’ll piss Scrooge off. 

So Louie runs for it working harder than he has in his whole life, with Gyro eventually trying to talk little bulb down, to no avail.. though we do get a nice moment of it registering him as father. Awwww. So the chase naturally eventually leads to the bin and Louie stuck in it, slowly swimming across, until Gyro gets to LIl Bulb, and realizes he’s in the wrong time of wattage and has literally gone mad with power and puts him back in his tiny old body fixing the problem. Gyro also crashed in with the bulb mech earlier, and while it disproves Scrooge’s point he’s stable.. he simply rolls with it and points out his staff is dangerously insane, and would likely swear vengeance on the Board if they were fired. And while he dosen’t say this part of it directly given Scrooge treats BOTH Quackfaster and Gyro exceptionally well, he knows they’ll know EXACTLY whose idea it was.. probably even tell them. So the board agrees to keep things as is to not die horribly as supervillains or not they have limits. 

So the day is one, Louie finds the dime, replaces it and passes out with Scrooge none the wiser. it also turns out the Dime isn’t even the real deal, to Louie’s frustration. But Scrooge is proud he clearly worked hard, and gives him the fake dime as his own number one dime, a nice setup for their bond and a nice showing that Louie really has the potential to be as rich as his uncle one day, and it’s clear by this setup there was a lot of potential here for an arc.. which is why we got one. More on that some other time. Louie accidently spends it while Gyro ends realizing if he put himself int he robot it wouldn’t go mad with power.. and thus Project Blatherskite is born. And we all know where this is going. 

Final Thoughts: All in all a decent episode. It has great pacing, some excellent world building, and some really good gags. While the series would do better episodes as it went, for an early episode helping set things up including Louie’s charcter arc, Gyro, Gizmoduck and the board as proper characters, it’s still very good and one of the series early standouts. 

Next Time on Della: Donald is forced to confront his adventuring past when he runs into his old sorta friend THE INCREDIBLE STORKULES, Scrooge is forced into games of the gods by their resident Douchebag Zeus, and Dewey is forced to confront his own fear of whatever it is his mom did. Confront this review later this week. 

Next Time on This Blog: It’s Lena’s Dark Night of the Soul as she and Webby head into “The Other Bin of Scrooge McDuck!” 

If you liked this review share it, feel free to commission your own and feel free to join my patreon at patreon.com/popculturebuffet. Even a buck a month helps, and helps me reach my stretch goals, the current one being just 5 dollars away, and netting you reviews of the super Ducktales arc of Ducktales and a Darkwing Duck Review every month. See you at the next rainbow.

[chilling-seavey]

based on ur post about the songs from the album and when they would have been written in ABM- ABM Daniel writing a song for Flora and she hears it for the first time?

By the time Daniel graduated with his bachelor’s degree in music production; he had an album of ten original songs under his belt. His first year was learning the basics but by the time the novel of ABM began, his classes started assigning projects in writing and producing their own songs. We all know that Daniel is incredibly creative and especially so when it comes to his music and this universe is no different, but he was also incredibly protective about his work. He showed Florence snippets of what he had been working on but never full songs because he didn’t want to admit that all his songs were about her.

His inspiration was directly stemmed from her; for every single one of his projects.

Even when Florence and Daniel started dating, he kept his previous songs locked away on his computer in near embarrassment with how lovesick and emotional they all were. They were pieces of his fragile soul from the past two or three years and he was simply a little nervous of opening that back up again.

By his final week of university, Daniel received a CD that was burned with all of his projects in order on it to hear his progression and his professor congratulated him on being one of the top students he had ever seen or taught. Daniel thanked him, went home, and hid the album in the very back of his sock drawer.

Here is the link to ABM Daniel’s University Album.

Thursday, June 16, 2022

It had been in there barely two months when Florence found it. She was doing laundry and putting the clean folded clothes in the drawers when her hand grazed something at the bottom of Daniel’s sock drawer. Curiosity got the better of her and she pushed the folded socks out of the way to reveal a CD case, the cover staring back up at her with one of Daniel’s first year headshots and the title in white across the black and white image; Firenze. ‘Florence’ in Italian.

She set the laundry basket on the floor and picked up the CD from the bottom of the drawer. She flipped it over and skimmed the track list printed on the back. Ten short titled tracks in a row down the middle. Florence figured she shouldn’t go snooping through her fiancé’s things but it wasn’t a gift since her birthday already passed and they never gave each other Christmas gifts so she carried it back out to the bedroom.

Daniel was watching the girls in the living room while Florence was doing laundry so she had a moment of privacy to close the bedroom door and bring out her laptop. She slid the CD into the disk drive and put in her earbuds to listen to the mysterious album that had been hidden from her for nearly four years. The front cover slid out like a real professional album and she flipped it open as the songs loaded into iTunes.

The first song was titled Just to See You Smile. Written and Produced by Daniel Seavey, 1st year Music Production student, March 2019.

Florence smiled at the gentle piano that led the introduction to the song and then Daniel’s youthful voice that came in next. She couldn’t believe he never showed her this song; probably too nervous since it was his first, but it was sweet and it made her smile.

The second song was titled Hard. Written and Produced by Daniel Seavey, 2nd year Music Production student, Summer 2019.

She followed along to the lyrics in the small cover booklet, her smile faltering a moment at the lyrics come the pre-chorus. It was obvious as to what it was about, especially being written in Summer of 2019 when Matt was still around and it was often that Florence truly ran crying to Daniel when he hurt her.

The third song was titled Falling. Written and Produced by Daniel Seavey, 2nd year Music Production student, September 2019.

Florence’s expression was flat, the words of the song resonating deep in her mind and the emotion behind Daniel’s voice nearly sent chills down her spine as she read along with the lyrics.

That one was followed by Perfect from November 2019, Made For from January 2020, For You from February 2020, What Am I from Summer 2020, all of which just added another weight to Florence’s heart. The angsty heartbroken songs that she was smart enough to know just who they were about, each lyric speaking right to her soul from a part of Daniel’s she hardly knew existed.

She tried not to feel heartbroken herself over the deep lyrics and soft melodies as a vision into Daniel’s own mind through their friendship. She had hurt him so much and never knew. She now sat on their shared bed in their new apartment and fought back her own tears over these songs that he tried to hide from her.

Daniel had finished making lunch for the girls and set them at their small white wooden table to eat, waiting impatiently for Florence to finish putting away the laundry so they could eat together. The minutes passed as he cleaned up the kitchen but there was no sign of her.

“Stay right here, okay?” Daniel said to his two daughters before heading down the hallway to find his fiancé. Their bedroom door was closed which was strange and he opened it and headed inside, only to find Florence sitting on their bed with her laptop open and her headphones on and tears in her eyes.

Daniel was startled by her seemingly sudden emotion but then his gaze landed on the open CD cover and the booklet in her hands and his heart literally stopped.

“Flora.” he breathed as she looked up at him.

She paused What Am I within the last minute and pulled out her earbuds with a shaky inhale, “Why didn’t you show me this?”

“I…” Daniel walked slowly over to her and glanced at her laptop to see what track she was on. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “I didn’t…I…I didn’t want you to be upset. There’s some…heavy and personal shit in these songs.”

“Yeah.” Florence laughed humourlessly, looking back to the simple black booklet in her hands.

“Are you mad at me?” Daniel asked softly.

“Mad at you? You should be mad at me for listening to something you didn’t want me to listen to.” Florence sighed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand before her tears could fall.

“They’re all for you anyway.” Daniel shrugged. “Plus it had your name on the cover.”

“You really meant all of this?” Florence asked, holding up the lyric booklet haphazardly.

“Every single word.” Daniel nodded and shuffled to sit beside her on the bed. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ve been in love with you from the first moment we met.”

“I didn’t know…that I hurt you this bad all the time.”

“Not all the time.” Daniel tisked. “The hard stuff just makes for the best songs.”

Florence chuckled lightly and Daniel smiled softly and pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek before leaning his head against hers.

“I wrote What Am I the week before Penelope was born.” Daniel said quietly, staring at the song paused on the laptop screen. “And you were the only thing on my mind the whole time…you and our baby that I didn’t know was ours yet.”

“I heard you singing it to her once.”

“Yeah.” Daniel cracked a small smile at the memory.

They sat in silence together, in their own minds and memories, staring at the paused CD.

“Are you gonna listen to the last three?” Daniel asked.

“Are they gonna make me cry?” Florence mumbled.

“No. Next one was the first song I wrote after we started dating.” he flipped the booklet to Taking You, “And then one from when I knew I wanted to marry you,” he flipped to Big Plans, “And finally, my thesis project. Spent all this last year working on it from recordings to lyrics to instrumentals to production and everything in between.” he flipped to the last page to Love Song finished just that last April. “Got a shining 100%.”

Florence smiled at him and stuck her earbud back in but Daniel got up from the bed again. “Are you not going to listen with me?” she frowned.

“Gotta watch our babies so they don’t destroy the house. Come find me after, okay?”

“Okay.” Florence smiled lightly and welcomed his lingering kiss to her lips. She watched him leave before turning back to her laptop and pressed ‘play’.

The upbeat guitar of Taking You instantly made her smile and the sweet lyrics had it sticking; thinking back to the first few weeks of their romantic relationship and how fresh and new everything was. And Big Plans definitely made her cry – especially because it was made in April and he said it was when he knew he wanted to marry her, so far in advance to when he actually proposed. And Love Song. Her favourite on the whole track list, an upbeat and catch incredible song that sounded like it could be professionally made by a famous band. But it was just her Daniel and his deepest, sweetest, honest feelings for her and it only made her more excited to spend the rest of their lives together.

When the album concluded, she took it out of her laptop and put the CD safely away in its case and on Daniel’s desk across the room before heading back down the hallway. She lingered in the doorway a moment to watch Daniel set two plastic cups of apple juice down for the girls and they thanked him sweetly. He stood back up and caught glimpse of Florence in the hallway and they shared small smiles. She headed over to him and he swallowed her up into a warm embrace and peppered a few kisses to her cheek and down her neck.

“I love you so much.” Florence whispered.

“I love you more.” Daniel smiled against her neck.

“Our whole love story on one CD, huh?” she said.

Daniel pulled back from her to look at her face and their noses brushed lightly. He kissed hers before resting their foreheads together, “It is.”

“I’m proud of you. It was all truly beautiful. Can’t believe you didn’t share all that with me before.”

“I’ve shown you bits and pieces.” Daniel shrugged, his eyes falling closed as they stood together in their kitchen, arms wrapped around each other and just breathing together. “But I was too shy.”

“I know.” Florence giggled, giving his hips a small squeeze. She pulled back to look him in the eye. “But now I expect to hear all your beautiful art.”

“Okay.” Daniel leaned in to kiss her lips and they smiled into it before he pulled back just long enough to whisper, “I’ll put it in my vows.”

[authorized-trash]

To Tie a Knot: Chapter 5: Important Meetings in a Coffee Shop Bathroom

Ao3

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Content Warnings:

Self harm, self deprecation, making out, stress, emotional turmoil, elusion to character death, (If anything else needs mentioned tell me)

Chapter Summary:

Damian should know better than to walk into coffee shops when he’s the protagonist of a romance fanfiction smh

Word Count:

3,600+

Note: I posted the last chapter on Ao3 a day or two ago, and it got so many comments so fast I was inspired to write another on. So here is nearly 4k words of >:]. Chapter six is halfway done as well, so please, keep the comments up, I’ve never written so much so fast in my life asdf

-

-

By the time noon had come and gone and Logan had left, the others were restless. Patton was stress baking and Roman was practicing his lines a bit louder than normal. Virgil was nowhere to be seen, most likely hiding in their shared room listening to too-loud music.

Patton kneaded dough between his hands, planning on making bread. One would think he would make cookies or something while stressed, but he found the process of homemade bread and the smell of it baking was much better for calming. 

Over the years he had gotten pretty good actually, won a few dumb little neighborhood competitions with his baking. His soulmates all adored his cooking, Roman had stated one of his favorite things to wake up to was the smell of pie or bread.

Patton let his mind wander while he worked, thinking about his new soulmate. He couldn’t help the wave of anticipation and impatience that hit him when he thought about their meeting. He was just so excited! A large smile stretched across his face, and he did a few happy stomps with his feet.

Roman stopped repeating his lines and looked over to him, a soft smile on his face.

“You okay over there, dear? You’re lucky that bread isn’t alive, you’re beating it quite thoroughly,” Roman said with a teasing tone.

Patton looked up at him, blushing a bit at being caught, “Oh! Yeah of course I’m fine! I’m just overwhelmingly giddy, I guess.”

Roman laughed and crossed the room with a few long strides, grabbing Patton around the waist and setting his chin to rest on the other’s head. He gave a kiss to Patton’s scalp, and Patton giggled and swatted playfully at him.

“Ro stop, I’m trying to cook,” Patton whined, placing the kneaded dough into a bread pan. He leaned back into Roman’s hold either way, looking up at him through his eyelashes.

“Sorry Sweetheart, I simply couldn’t resist,” Roman winked, laughing softly. They stood there for a few moments in silence, swaying slightly.

“Do you think they’ll like my bread?” Patton asked quietly.

“What? Of course! If they don’t I will have to fight them,” Roman said dramatically. Patton chuckled.

“No fighting Roman, everyone has their own tastes.”

“If someone’s taste doesn’t like your bread, they’re wrong. Sorry, I don’t make the rules,” Roman spun Patton and gave him a peck to the lips.

The oven beeped a few times behind them, and Patton started to squirm in Roman’s hold.

“Babe, you gotta let me go so I can cook!” Patton said, squealing as Roman held steadfast, unmoving.

“Nuh uh, you are in the Princey Dungeon of snuggles and cuddles, I’m very sorry Padre, but I simply cannot let go unless you pay bail.”

“Which is?”

“Kiss me.”

Patton didn’t protest as he pressed their lips together. Roman hummed and smiled into the kiss, trailing his hands up Patton’s back and threading his fingers into Patton’s hair. After a few long seconds they parted for air, but Roman didn’t seem to want to stop, and at this point neither did Patton.

Before long Patton was up against the counter, kissing back with fervor as Roman picked his legs up and sat him on the counter. Patton made a small noise into the kiss, arms draped around Roman’s shoulders.

Just as Roman was teasing his hand up and under Patton’s shirt, a gagging noise came from the door.

“Eugh, can ya’ll like, not be horny in the kitchen please? I don’t want you contaminating my bread.”

Roman nearly fell to his ass with how fast he jumped off of Patton, and Patton buried his head in his hands and grumbled something under his breath.

Virgil laughed all the way to the kitchen’s island, wheezing and wiping tears from his eyes.

“You two should see your faces, you would think your parent’s just caught you or somethin’. Calm thyselves.”

Patton just stood silently and went to put the bread in the oven.

“Wait, excuse you. Your bread? No, sorry sis, it’s mine,” Roman said as he brushed himself off.

“Oh god, please don’t call me sis, I’m your boyfriend, that’s weird,” Virgil said, moving to sit himself up onto the counter on the other side of the room.

“Oh,” Patton spoke up suddenly, “Roman, I meant to ask, how’s Remus? You haven’t talked about him in awhile.”

Roman’s brother Remus visited them every holiday. It was getting close to thanksgiving at this point, and they were all looking forward to seeing him.

Roman shrugged, “Don’t know, haven’t talked to him in… a little over a month now?”

“How come?” Patton asked.

“Normally I’m not the one who reaches out to talk, I just haven’t thought about it. And since, ya know, I don’t talk to my parents, it’s easy to lose contact for larger periods of time,” Roman explained, slumping into a chair at the kitchen table. Patton nodded in understanding.

They went back to their routines, this time with both Roman and Virgil on their phones while Patton baked a few more things.

Half an hour went by with little words, just a comfortable silence as they all enjoyed the company.

A sharp and hard tug caught their attention.

“Ow, damnit,” Virgil said, shaking his hand roughly as if it were burned. The other two looking down at their hands in confusion, wincing as their yellow strings gave another sharp and painful tug.

“Language,” Patton chided absentmindedly, then, “Do they want something?”

“I don’t think people yank on their strings that hard in order to get someone’s attention, Dearest,” Roman said, flinching as he bent his finger. It was already sore.

“They’re not trying to take the string off or something, right? That’s impossible, they should know that,” Virgil said shakily, curling in on himself and his hoodie.

“It is. Maybe they’re not thinking clearly?” Roman said, trying to offer an explanation.

Patton pouted, 

“I hope they’re okay.”

-

Damian was not okay.

You wouldn’t be able to tell it, though, with the way he was carrying himself.

His strides were confident, and he held his head high. He tipped his hat at the people who walked by and offered polite hellos. He looked like every bit of a man who was sure of himself.

But he was far from it, really.

If you knew him personally and were looking closely, you could see the way he sometimes fidgeted with his jacket sleeves. You’d notice the slight tremble in his hands, or the way he seemed to run his fingers through his hair too many times. He honestly probably had his hat off more than he had it on, lifting it off of his head as much as he was.

Damian was a nervous wreck, but a nervous wreck who was good at hiding it.

His classes that day were ridiculously stressful, and it didn’t help when every other person exclaimed suddenly when they noticed the shadows of his soulstrings. He would wave them off, or excuse himself. Hell, a few times he even made up what his soulmates were like. He wove tales of wonderful people who had swept him off his feet, if only to appease the asker and get them to stop bugging him.

He had watched earlier that day as the indigo string seemed to detach from the others, just barely heading in a different direction. It was a very slow process, meaning they were probably decently far, but it still scared him.

Were they going to work? Coming to find him? Oh god, what if indigo left the other three because he couldn’t deal with another string showing up? What if Damian was the reason why they broke up?

No, Damian thought to himself with a shake of his head, no that was ridiculous. Really, he needed to stop letting his head go off in random directions, the self deprecation was getting old.

Damian walked up the steps of his apartment building, entering with a nod towards the doorman. The man smiled and waved.

“Heya, DJ,” He greeted. 

“Hello, Larry. How’s the wife?”

“Oh you know her, same old. She’s missed you, you know. You should really come over for some tea sometime soon,” Larry said, opening the door for Damian.

“Sure thing, how does Thursday sound?”

“That would be awesome, see you then, Damian.”

Damian smiled to himself as he entered the elevator to his floor. He let out a shuddery breath. Small talk came to him easily, he was never really introverted to be honest, but that didn’t stop it from being taxing on the days when he really didn’t want to have to see people.

As soon as he crossed the threshold to his apartment, he checked the time. 

Okay, it was a little past five in the afternoon, cool. He figured Remy would be up to go somewhere, if he wasn’t already out with Emile.

He shot him a text, which he got an immediate reply on.

Girl course i wanna hang. Ill be there in half hour, see ya hot stuff xoxo

Damian chuckled to himself. Of course Remy would be the kind of person to still unironically use X’s and O’s.

He double tapped the message to like it, and took off for the restroom. He needed to freshen up before he left for the outside world.

He went ahead and re-brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and washed his face. He really needed some moisturizer for his burns, they were getting a little scratchy around the edges, the sensitive skin looking a little red and agitated. 

By the time he was done toweling himself off, his eyes fell from his face in the mirror to the strings tied neatly around his fingers. He had spent most of the day ignoring them, other than the occasional check-in on Indigo’s progress.

He looked at them for a long while, feeling how they moved. He always found it so fascinating, how sometimes they would be pulled tight and sensitive to any slight movement, and how other times they seemed to pool onto the floor in piles of color. He figured it depended on some kind of need or something, it was always when someone’s emotions were high that the strings seemed to tighten, maybe as a way to aid communication.

Damian just figured it was some weird magicky shit, and didn’t let it bother him too much. He had gotten over the trying to explain the strings stage back in middle school, back when it was just him and green.

Nausea and guilt ate at his insides even thinking about the green string. It hung loosely to the fingers on the hand opposite the new strings, its once brilliant earthy color now a faded grey.

It was so pale and sad looking in comparison to the other brighter strings, and Damian couldn’t help but want to cry again. It was such a lovely color, and he was sure they would have been such a lovely person.

He didn’t even have a name to mourn, a funeral to attend to. Only a sad little frayed string to cry pitifully over.

And that brings up another question, why frayed? Damian hadn’t met anyone who had a dead soulmate that had a frayed string. Sure, others had their colors dulled, but the end looked clipped with scissors. Damian’s looked as if someone had pulled it apart with their teeth.

It wasn’t fair, Damian thought. It wasn’t fair that he got all these questions. It wasn’t even a simple, “oh no, my soulmate is dead, I’m doomed to be lonely and soulless.” No, he had to deal with all these mysteries. Why frayed? Why four others? Why add him to an already complete group? Why not someone else? Why had it been a month, when the average wait on the reassigning was a week? Were the other’s even able to love him like they loved each other? Damian wasn’t paired with someone equally as heartbroken and lonely, he was paired with an already complete soulmate relationship. Was he doomed to be an outcast?

Damian didn’t want this, he didn’t ask for this. 

His emotions were all over the place, but he steeled himself, and with an angry huffed, he grabbed his four strings, and yanked.

White hot, dizzying pain lanced up his arm, and he gave a shout. His vision blanked, and a throbbing headache pounded behind his eyes.

His vision cleared after a while, stars and dots still dancing across his eyes. The pain was so bad, it was nearly incapacitating. 

And in a mix of morbid curiosity and the horrible feeling of self loathing, he yanked again, harder.

He stumbled to the ground, sweat beginning to drip from his forehead. His heart was pounding in his ears, and what sounded like a dull roar caused his eardrums to hurt. Every bone in his body ached, and his arm hurt to move.

Well, he thought, guess they were pretty authentic then, at the very least.

He heard a knock at the door and tripped over himself to get up. He dabbed his face with the towel once again, wincing at the pain in his arms.

By the time he left the bathroom, Remy was already standing inside.

“What on earth were you doing in there, you look awful,” Remy asked, before going a bit pale, “You know what? Don’t answer that.”

“Oh shut it,” Damian snapped, taking his hat off the counter and fitting it back into place.

“So, wanna head out to that coffee shop you like downtown?”

Damian shrugged, “Why not.”

“Sweet, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Damian sighed but laughed at his friend's antics, following him out the door with a fond shake of his head.

The coffee shop was nice. It was small, cozy, and had a nice arrangement of potted plants scattered about. The barista was kind, and pretty cute. They had a cute grungy-emo thing going on. 

Damian had a thing for emos.

He, like normal, had ordered some black coffee with two creams and a sugar, much to Remy’s dismay. Remy had then proceeded to buy some ridiculously over sweetened drink with a stupid name and two muffins to share, much to Damian’s dismay.

“You have got to stop buying food for me Remy, I’m a grown man, I can pay for myself.”

“I offered. Besides, you need your money for your hobbies.”

“What hobbies?” Damian laughed, smiling despite himself.

“I don’t know, your music. You play the clarinet, right?”

“Flute, actually,” Said Damian, rolling his eyes, “And it’s not a hobby. Band was the only reason I managed to get into college. You know this, why are you asking?”

It was Remy’s turn to roll his eyes, “Small talk, babes.”

Damian was so caught up in their conversation he missed as the indigo string tied to his finger moved at a rate much, much faster than earlier that day.

“Mhmm, small talk about something we are both familiar with?”

“I don’t know, you band nerds seem to like to talk about band, despite making sure it is known that it is hell on earth,” Remy laughed, “Why don’t you, I don’t know, tell one of those ‘this one time at band camp-’ stories, babes?”

“Uh huh, and which one haven’t you heard?” Damian did in fact have a lot of stories, as every band kid tended to, but he was almost certain Remy had heard every one three times. It was obviously his best friend was just trying to cheer him up, and honestly? Damian really appreciated it.

“I don’t know, what about the one time you passed out on field and went to the hospital for a broken rib after being stepped on?” Remy’s grin was shit-eating, and Damian felt his face turn a deep crimson.

“We agreed not to talk about that,” he hissed, attempting to hide his face behind his coffee as he took a sip.

Remy shook his head as he laughed, before standing up.

“I’m heading to the restroom babes, try not to miss me too much.”

Damian sighed and sat back in his chair as Remy left, closing his eyes and smiling to himself. He was enjoying himself, this was nice. Remy was an awesome friend and really helped Damian to forget all about his stupid soulmates.

If all went Damian’s way, he wouldn’t have to deal with soulmates for the rest of the day.

Of course, knowing how fate liked to fuck him over, that isn’t what happened.

-

Logan had had an exhausting day, and he was ready to get it over with. He wanted nothing more than to go home to his soulmates and curl up against them, but he knew he couldn’t. He had been sentenced to sleeping in a cold hotel bed, alone.

The day had started well, with breakfast with his beloveds and a few kisses to his cheek, and a few kisses he returned. He had left with a small smile on his face.

But his good mood had slowly disappeared as the day wore on, as no sign of his other soulmate was to be found. The string slowly started to move more and more as he was sure he was getting closer, but the direction it was in was so vague, he could only hope he was going the right way as he drove.

Honestly, he didn’t know why some machine to find them hadn’t been invented yet. Surely there was some way to get some magnetic something or other to pick up on soulstrings, and then lead you there with a convenient little GPS voice.

But nope, the stupid strings were too stubborn to be beat. Everyone had just accepted them as immovable magic and was done with it.

Everyone including Logan, but he still felt like he was allowed to complain about that fact.

It was a little past six in the evening at this point, and the sky was beginning to darken considerably. Logan could feel his body getting heavier, but wasn’t quite tired enough to stop yet. 

He didn’t think his perception skills were too bad, surely he had a few more hours left in him.

That was probably a bad judgement call, as they were apparently bad enough to not notice how fast the string on his finger moved as he turned the corner into coffee shop parking lot.

He locked his car as he stepped away from it, and entered the building. He took a right to the restroom, wanting to wash his hands before doing anything else, not enjoying the feeling of sweaty driving palms. 

He heard the door behind him open, and looked up to see a man wearing sunglasses (indoors?) walk in.

“‘Sup Babes,” the man said, and Logan lifted an eyebrow in confusion.

“Babes? I’m sorry, do I know you?”

The man laughed, “Nope, you just look like someone who would be fun to piss off by calling them babes. For real though, why are you wearing a necktie in a coffee shop?”

“Plenty of people wear neckties in a coffee shop,” Logan answered, fixing his tie with an affronted look. The other man just laughed, running a hand through his hair.

“The name’s Remy,” The man said, offering his hand to shake. Logan took it, if with a little hesitance and confusion.

“Logan.” Logan responded. Remy nodded, going to turn around and leave, probably deterred from using the restroom in what would now be an awkward situation. He stopped suddenly, eyes going wide from behind his sunglasses.

“You have four soulmates?” He said, looking at the slight shadow cast on the tiled floor.

“Yes,” Logan answered, easily. Remy was not the first one to ask that today. There was the woman at the gas station, and the man walking his dog outside of the Ihop. It was a little disorienting hearing four instead of three, but whatever.

“You here with someone? One of your strings seems to be pointing in a weird direction,” Remy commented, nodding down at the shadow heading straight out the bathroom door. Logan looked down hurriedly, just now noticing the yellow string that was pulled tight.

“I- no I’m not. I’ve actually been looking for our fourth soulmate all day,” Logan didn’t take his eyes off the string, “In fact, it only appeared recently. Me and my other soulmates decided it best to find them as soon as possible.

After a few more minutes of staring wide eyed at his yellow string, he looked up at Remy. He, once again, looked confused at the wide smile that had spread across Remy’s face. The sunglasses clad man grabbed Logan by the hand and tugged him towards the door.

“Come on, there’s someone you need to meet.”

Logan allowed himself to be pulled back into the main part of the coffee shop and led in the direction of a booth in the back. He opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when he caught sight of the man seated at the table.

“Damian, babes, you will not fucking believe who I just ran into,” Remy exclaimed. The man, Damian, turned around to face them.

The two men locked eyes, and Logan felt his heart hammering in his chest, that familiar yet foreign feeling of something clicking into place in his chest was present for the fourth time in his life, and he was almost certain he had never been happier.

Logan was at a loss for words for one of the few times in his life.

“Uhm, hello?”

-

-

Taglist in reblog

[wonwuism]

Chapter 3.

Tuesday | NYC Institute of the Arts | Rooftop Café17 | 01:47 pm

“I’m not saying tie dye is ugly, I’m just saying there’s a reason it’s never been used in fashion before. Like, ever.”

“Sounds like you just think it’s ugly.”

Wonwoo wasn’t really paying attention to his friends. Whenever Vernon and Minghao started yet another discussion about fashion he usually zoned out into his own thoughts until they decided to let him decide who was right, as if he understood what they were even talking about. There was a good reason that he designed games and they designed clothing.

“Wonwoo what do you think about multi colored clothes?” Wonwoo looked over at his friends and thought for a second.

“Depends. If you’re talking about color blocking, I love it. If you’re asking me if I think Vernons shirt is ugly. I do. I hate it.” Minghao threw his head back in laughter and clapped his hands so loud, people around them started looking where the sound was coming from.

“You’re both assholes, you know that right?” Vernon took an angry bite from his chicken sandwich. Wonwoo chewed on his cheek instead. He wasn’t hungry today. It had been three days since he scribbled his e-mail address on a post it note for Mingyu to take. He wasn’t even sure why he was thinking about it so much, but just the thought of Mingyu never actually sending the pictures kept running through his mind. After thinking about it for another five minutes he couldn’t take it any longer.

“Hey guys?” The two mouths that had been excitedly talking about their weekend and the weird night out they’d had both shut and his friends shifted their focus on Wonwoo now.

“How long do you think it takes for a photographer to, you know, edit pictures?” Minghao raised his eyebrows in suspicion, since this was so obviously not a Wonwoo kind of question. Vernon, however, never really questioned anything and reacted right away.

“Well, it depends on how many shots they took and how much editing those shots need in terms of photoshop and stuff.”

“They’re just portrait shots of one guy that someone took at the shop. I was wondering when he’s going to e-mail them to me.” Vernon opened his mouth to answer, but Minghao beat him to it. As usual he could see right through Wonwoo as well as Jun did. It was something about his Chinese friends that made it impossible to hide things from them.

“Are you waiting for the pictures or for him to contact you?” It was Vernons turn to raise his eyebrows now and before Wonwoo could even think of an answer, Minghao spoke again.

“You’re usually never impatient, much less when it’s about something you don’t really care about, like, I don’t know, pictures from the flower shop. Spill it Wonwoo, who is this guy.”

Wonwoo let out a breath. They got him. He shouldn’t have asked them about it and just waited it out. Now he was going to tell them all about his dumb crush and they were going to ask him about it all the time. He could feel the panic under his skin, knocking at his bones again, but he calmed himself down. He wasn’t going to let it get to him over something as silly as this. Vernon and Minghao were his friends and even though they didn’t know about his anxiety disorder, they wouldn’t make fun of him for anything. They never judged anyone and they wouldn’t start now.

“Okay, so-“ Two bodies turned his way dramatically. “All I know really, is that his name is Mingyu and that he’s a photographer. He said that the shots were for his portfolio as well as the model’s, so I doubt he’s a professional. Oh and he’s straight.”

“He’s straight?”

“Yeah I know, but I was already kind of crushing on him when he told me that he thinks he doesn’t like guys, so it was a little too late for me to do anything about it.”

Both boys nodded and Wonwoo saw them think about answers to questions he didn’t ask. They were looking for solutions for problems that didn’t exist yet, and even though he loved his friends for it, he didn’t need to hear their two cents on the situation, so he cut them off.

“Don’t worry though, he’ll send the pictures soon and that’ll be the end of it.”

Before another word was said, Wonwoo could see Juliette walk their way. She always walked so lightly, like nothing was weighing her down. Her brown ponytail swung across her back and she seemed to glow in the light that beamed down on the rooftop café. She was the prettiest girl Wonwoo knew. He waved at her to divert attention from his miserable story and all was forgotten when Vernon saw his girlfriend come over.

“Hey guys!” She pecked Vernon’s cheek and took a seat next to him. Vernon looked at her with stars in his eyes for a second and Wonwoo felt a little jealous as usual. Who could blame him though. The two had been in love since they talked for the first time and had been together for 5 years now, still as in love as they’d been that first day. They were the couple that handled their problems before talking to anyone else about them and the kind of couple that got along with each other’s friends well, but still gave each other enough space to live their own lives. They were the kind of couple to sit next to each other after being together for 5 years and still secretly hold hands under the table just because they liked it. It was cute.

“Hey, what’s up? Don’t you have class now?” Vernon asked. She shook her head and made a pouty face. “It got cancelled because miss Claudette fell ill. She’s my favorite teacher though, so I hope she gets better soon. And I really like her class, so I’m a little sad now.” She shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of her coffee. “Hey Jules?” It was Minghao. She raised her eyebrows at him and hummed a response.

“Do you know anyone in photography by the name Mingyu?” Wonwoo almost choked on his spit and avoided Vernon’s surprised look to shoot daggers from his eyes at Minghao. Juliette was sweet and he trusted her for sure, but Minghao knew that Wonwoo didn’t like talking about his personal stuff to people.

“Mingyu? Uhhhh Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu… No, I don’t think I know him. There’s a Min-gi, though. Maybe that’s the one you’re looking for?” Minghao turned to look at Wonwoo who shook his head no. “No, it’s definitely Min-gyu. Kim Mingyu, I think.”

“No, I don’t think we have anyone in the photography department with that name, sorry.” She didn’t ask any more information and Wonwoo was glad. She was like Vernon in a way that they were willing to help you as much as you needed them to, but they didn’t push you to tell them more.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s not really important anyway. I have to go, though. See you guys around.” He took his own empty cup and other trash off the table to throw it away and the others waved at him before he walked off. He didn’t really have to go. He was just leaving because they were talking about him too much for his liking. Wonwoo knew that they were just going to continue without him now, but as long as he wasn’t there to hear it, he didn’t really mind.

Wonwoo debated on whether to go home or to the flower shop to work on his project, but a text from Jihoon already decided for him.

Jihoon: I’m in WOOZI mode

He chuckled. Whenever he got that text he knew what time it was. Jihoon was in a huge producing flow and was making magic in their room. WOOZI was the name he produced under and this simple text let Wonwoo know not to come home for a while to not disturb the process. Some people would’ve thought it’s annoying not to be able to go home, but Wonwoo didn’t mind. It had been a while since Jihoon had sent him anything like this or let him hear a new song, so Wonwoo put his phone into his pocket and was on his way to the shop.

Tuesday | Pledis Flowers | 06:03 pm

Wonwoo was debating on what he would have for dinner. He’d been working on his game for a while without making a lot of progress for a few hours. He could get some Mexican takeout and treat Jihoon for doing well today. He was just about to text if his roommate had dinner plans yet, when his e-mail app showed a notification. Heart beating, fingers shaking, breath quickening. Wonwoo opened the e-mail and there it was. Mingyu’s name.

Hey Wonwoo!

I attached a folder with the shots I ended up choosing for my portfolio :)

I hope you like them enough to put them on the website!

I also added some tulips that I took a picture of the other day because I know you like flowers. Or I think you do, since you work in the flower shop haha

Anyway let me know what you think,

Mingyu

Wonwoo didn’t miss the way Mingyu added 10 numbers under his name. He gave Wonwoo his phone number. Wonwoo scolded himself for thinking too much about it. It just meant he preferred to discuss the pictures over the phone. That’s it.

With one click on the attached folder, Wonwoo held his breath. Jeonghan looked more like an angel than ever in these pictures. The lighting from outside hit his features perfectly and Wonwoo took a moment to appreciate the color correcting Mingyu had done to the pictures. They looked amazing and professional.

The last picture just showed an unedited shot of some pink and yellow tulips that made Wonwoo smile. He felt proud for somehow being a small part of this and he called Joshua over to show him the pictures. Seungcheol was with a customer and Wonwoo knew he didn’t really care much for the pictures anyway.

Josh stood behind him as Wonwoo opened the first one and with every new picture he could just feelJoshua go crazier. None of them said anything until the last picture was on the screen. “That’s all of them,” Wonwoo said. He looked over to his colleague to see what he could only describe as a man in love. Joshua was still staring at the screen with eyes glazed over, like his mind wasn’t really in the room anymore. “I’m in love with him. Good god, I’m so in love Wonwoo. I need to see him again.”

Wonwoo gave him a soft smile. He’d never seen Joshua like this. Usually it was all overly confident remarks and flirting, but the way he was looking at the pictures right now told Wonwoo that this time things might be different. He clicked the picture off the screen and it now showed the e-mail Mingyu sent him. He was about to close that tab, too, when Joshua stopped him.

“Wait, he gave you his phone number?” Big eyes stared at Wonwoo and he felt slightly uncomfortable at the fact that Joshua knew about it now. It had felt kind of secret before, and Wonwoo realized he actually liked it like that.

“Um, yeah, I think he wants me to let him know if I like the pictures that way.” Joshua all of a sudden seemed to be completely back into reality and he was almost shaking with excitement. “Wonwoo, this is perfect! You can help me get to Jeonghan through Mingyu! You have to call him right now! Please?”

Wonwoo thought about it. He didn’t want to ask Mingyu to help out arrange things for Joshua. Especially since he’d already mentioned he doesn’t like to get into other people’s personal business. What if he felt used or even got mad at Wonwoo for suggesting it?

“Not right now, but I’ll see what I can do, okay? But if I get too nervous about it please don’t be mad. I’m not even sure if I even have the guts to call him at all.”

Joshua nodded. He understood. “Yeah, that’s okay, just think about it, okay? You wanna grab dinner together? I’m craving pancakes.” Wonwoo shook his head no and told Josh he was probably going to treat Jihoon to Mexican food, since he worked hard today.

They talked a little about the pictures with Seungcheol while they worked on cleaning and organizing the shop and Wonwoo walked out with them to close for the day before waving them off and walking the other way to take a subway to his dorm. He decided that he’d just order takeout and pick it up before heading into the dorms without even asking Jihoon. He knew the boy probably hadn’t been outside anyway, so Wonwoo thought he could take the risk.

Tuesday | Wonwoo’s dorm room | 09:16 pm

Leftover takeout was on the floor and soft hip hop was playing in the background. Jihoon had told Wonwoo all about his new tracks and said that taking a walk the other day had really helped him out, so he decided to go for a walk every night from now on.

Wonwoo had his eyes closed and he listened to the sounds coming from Jihoons speakers. He didn’t hear the lyrics though. All Wonwoo could think about right now were ten little numbers. They spun around his head in a loop, demanding his attention. They made him nervous to no extent, but he knew they wouldn’t stop their torture until he pressed them into the screen on his phone and clicked the call button.

And he wanted to, he realized. He wanted to call Mingyu and talk about the pictures, just to hear his voice. Maybe they could talk about other things, like why Mingyu wasn’t majoring in photography and what he did do. Wonwoo didn’t know if he’d have the balls to ask about it, though. But he was going to call him right now. He had to.

Quickly, so he didn’t have any room to change his mind, Wonwoo pressed the numbers into his screen. He only saw them twice in the e-mail, but it had been enough to know them by heart already. Wonwoo blamed it on being a visual learner. With a shaky thumb he put the phone to his ear to hear it ring.

Pick up. Don’t pick up. Don’t. Don’t. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. No, don’t-

“Hello?” Shit.

“Hi, um… Is this- is this Mingyu?”

“Yeah this is he. Wait, Wonwoo is that you?” As every time, Mingyu switching to Korean made Wonwoo feel comfortable and a little light inside.

“Yeah, it’s me, hi.” He should’ve thought about what to say. This was awkward. Mingyu was going to think he’s weird. Great job Wonwoo.

“Oh hi! I’m so glad you called!” Mingyu sounded like the overexcited puppy that Wonwoo remembered, and it made him think that maybe this wasn’t all that awkward as long as Mingyu kept talking to him like this.

“Did you see the pictures I sent you? Wait, of course you did. You wouldn’t have called if you didn’t.” Wonwoo’s heart fluttered, because Mingyu was also nervous. “Yeah, I did. They were wonderful. So pretty.”

“Wonderful. I don’t think anyone’s said that about my pictures before. It sounds nice. Thank you.” It took a few seconds of silence to realize Mingyu couldn’t see him smile and Wonwoo felt a little stupid, but then Mingyu talked again and Wonwoo wondered if he didn’t hate the fact that Wonwoo was so quiet.

“So, I was thinking. I’ve been working on my portfolio for a while, but- I’m really bad at the whole design part of it. I can’t seem to make it look nice, no matter what I do. Would you, only if you want to, please help me out with it? Just give me some advice about coloring maybe, or placement? I’m really at the end of my wits here. I’ve spent hours on it already, but it still…” he laughed. “Yeah it looks like shit.”

Wonwoo laughed too. He liked that Mingyu was asking him for help. Not just because it’s him, but because it was a good thing that Mingyu wasn’t afraid to own up to his mistakes and it’s something that Wonwoo found to be a sign of good character. His mom had taught him that back when he was small. She also said Wonwoo was a little too good at it, since he saw mistakes that he didn’t even make. She was always right.

“Do you want to send it to me so I can make notes on it?”

“Actually, I think it’s best if we meet up. Is that okay with you?”

Wonwoo’s heart quickened and he tried not to breathe too fast so Mingyu would hear it. It was fine, this was fine. It was completely okay.

“You can pick the place if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

There it was again. Mingyu sensing Wonwoo’s anxiety, even through the distance of a phone call. Mingyu taking steps back to make him feel more at ease. Whether that be physical steps like the first time they met, or just a step back in his excitement over the phone, because he could tell it overwhelmed Wonwoo.

“Yeah, we can meet. I’ll think about the place. Is it okay if I text you about when and where?” All of a sudden being on the phone with Mingyu felt too close for Wonwoo and he wanted to get away from it.

“Oh, okay, yeah that should be fine. I’m available any night this week except for Friday.”

“Okay, I’ll see when I’m free. Goodnight Mingyu.”

“Wonwoo?”

“Yeah?”

“Were the flowers wonderful as well?”

Wonwoo closed his eyes so hard he saw white and all of a sudden he wanted to scream, or cry, or hit something. Mingyu was so incredibly nice to him and Wonwoo didn’t want him to. It was too much.

“They were,” he managed to squeak out.

“Good. Goodnight Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo hung up the phone and immediately a wave of panic hit him. Terrible thoughts washed over him. Thoughts that told him lies and that made him feel horrible about himself. Wonwoo curled himself up into a ball on his bed and tried to calm his breathing. The music in the background was so loud. Way too loud. But Wonwoo was frozen, so he couldn’t move to turn it down.

For twenty minutes Wonwoo panicked. His breathing went wild and his heart exploded with every beat. His hands shook and his head hurt so bad he wanted to split it in half to let out the monster hiding in his skull. After those twenty minutes his body gave up on him for the night, too exhausted to do anything else. Wonwoo fell into a restless sleep filled with scenarios in which he ruined everything.

Previous chapter. | Masterlist. | Next chapter.

[badjonesrising]

Work in Progress: Sketchbook Shenanigans

I had a lot of folks ask me about my current sketchbook, all directed from yesterday's post on here and on instagram. Luckily, I took lots of pics on the 23rd, including how I cut the book down to punch holes. I made this Sour Tamarind book way back in May, but until last week, it only had about 5 pages in it! I promised I would get back to it and hopefully can knock most of it out this month. I use my sketchbook strictly for ideas buzzing in my brain, color inspiration, and lots of experimenting and playing. I throw all my new thoughts, frustrations, and techniques in there. It's also the first place new materials get used.

In the beginning, it was just lots of recycled watercolor paper and painted paper folded in half, into a single signature book. As soon as I started working with it and handling it, I realized that it would eventually be too bulky and eventually I would have to rebind it altogether. Unfortunately, I am very impatient when it comes to art and if anything gets in my way, the project usually doesn't get done because I am quite the procrastinator. So, instead of sulking, I just cut the binding right down the middle, and took about a quarter of an inch off both sides. I kept the pieces (obviously) and made a super big altered tag with it. I have no idea what I am going to do with it but I just couldn't waste my precious sketchbook pages!

Now, all the square pages are held together with a three book rings. Right now they are 1" but after my motivation junk journal fiasco yesterday, I have a feeling I might need bigger ones for this book as well. LOL it's a good thing! It means that I have filled every page with awesome stuff and they are fat and crinkly and chunky- the way all art books should be!

I also like this ramen noodle spread- totally into orange and pink lately. I have no idea where or why this has happened. The only thing I could think of, was the fact that it is Leo season. AND we are at the end of a heat wave here in NYC. AND I am just diggin' sunshine-y colors because I have been stuck inside for 5 months— LMAO! Also, I saw my friend Christina use this florescent orange in her books, and it reminds me of Nike's "Infrared"- which I have always been obsessed with. I don't buy neon paint in bulk, because it's usually for accent purposes only, but I think I might start. Always act on your highest excitement, right?

Yes, that is an actual recycled plastic ramen noodle bag, adhered with a glue stick to minimize wrinkling. I’m always sticking in stuff from my daily life! Very important to do so. The right hand side is a piece of paper that was never cut down for my BJR Paper Packs, and I thought that black swoop was so de Kooning of me (which is usually what I am going for) so I kept it. The white and black stenciled piece is also from my own paper pack. What isn't pictured is a really nice insert, backed with a vintage science book page that my friend Carolyn sent me. I love when I finally get to use a collage piece or a paper bit that I have been keeping FOREVER. It's the little things that count, ya know?

[trashcatsnark]

I was tagged by @shallow-gravy​ to do this like OC bio thing, 

I spent entirely too long on this graphic and may post it as a solo thing at some point. 

Basics:

Name: Dahlia Josephine Hale

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual/Pansexual (she’s comfortable with either terminology)

Pronouns: She/Her

Other:

Family: Victor Hale (biological father, deceased), Bambi Monroe (biological mother, alive, remarried after Victor’s Death, estranged), David Monroe (stepdad, alive, preacher who goes by Father Monroe, hated by Dahlia), Genevieve Monroe (half sister, alive, estranged)

Birthplace: Alden, Louisiana (fictional for the sake of easy writing)

Job: Junior Deputy at the Hope County Sheriff’s Department

Phobias: She fears being what she considers a monster, being a bad person, which is a lot of what spurs on her bleeding-heart tendencies with the Seeds (and the clusterfuck of her situation). Less of a phobia and more of a trigger, but having her hair pulled. And less a strong phobia and more anxiety around pregnant people, due to past experience when her mother was pregnant. (Kim helps her get over it though)

Guilty Pleasures: Dahlia isn’t really ashamed of many things she enjoys, but she has a weakness for cheesy romantic shoujo manga and romcoms that she’d rather remain secret.

Morals:

Morality Alignment: Chaotic Good

Sins: Lust / Greed / Gluttony / Sloth / Pride / Envy / Wrath

Virtues: Chastity / Charity / Diligence / Humility / Kindness / Patience / Justice

This or That:

Introvert / Extrovert

Organized / Disorganized

Close-minded / Open-minded

Calm / Anxious (calm on the surface, but horrifically anxious under her façade)

Agreeable / Disagreeable

Cautious / Reckless

Patient / Impatient

Outspoken / Reserved (she tends to be quiet, but she will shamelessly call people out if she smells bullshit)

Leader / Follower

Empathetic / Unempathetic

Optimistic / Pessimistic

Traditional / Modern

Hard-working/ Lazy

Relationships:

OTP(s): All of them….I am a shipping slut, cause I love so many of the fc5 characters; the main ship is Dahlia x Polyseed, her with any but most importantly all Seeds is what gets me up in the morning and helps me sleep at night. Other potential ships, I like playing with and absolutely make me melt are Dahlia x Pratt, my soft damaged boy deserves a cute feral gf and no more pain, thank you.  And I also fucking die for Dahlia x Eli, socially awkward leaders and reluctant heroes going soft for each other, yes please.  I’m also weak for Dahlia x Sharky, he loves dep no matter what, fight me. And Dahlia x Jess, two feral gfs together??? Sounds like heaven to me. (I’m a thot first, a writer second, what can I say)

OT3: Kim x Dahlia x Nick, DAHLIA AS THE MEAT IN A RYE SANDWHICH MAKES ME WEAK, THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT.

BroTP:  Dahlia and Jess, Dahlia and Sharky (and hurk jr for bonus disaster points) , Dahlia and Pratt. Outside of gross noncon stuff, I also die for like kinda iffy on each other, to friends, to lovers, so a lot of my like bonus ships I like thinking about are just what if her good friend and her became something more.

NoTP: Dahlia x Hudson, as much as this pains me to admit because I love Hudson so much and am a thot, but I feel like in plotting/writing about Dahlia her initial crush on Hudson is something she needs to get over because there’s no like substance behind it and for a while it gets in the way of establishing anything that could be a genuine connection between them. She likes Hudson because Hudson is pretty and has been nice to her, even if it’s just minor exchanges. Most people who’re really nice to Dahlia are either really old by her standards (Like Whitehorse becoming a dad figure) or are trying to get something out of her. So, Hudson not rushing to harass the probie and being a mature, kind, and attractive person in Dahlia’s life led to her first little crush. And to me as Dahlia gets more genuine connections, building a pseudo family with the resistance, those butterflies and warm and fuzzy crush feelings of Hudson will fade cause well, lots of people are pretty and nice to her, now, the standards for a romantic crush will rise. And I think them ending up together would undermine that progress.

Uhhhhhhh, tagging anyone who wants to do it, gib me your ocs

[vanillapie-80]

Writer Tag Game

Tagged by @eurazba for this so-

Fandoms: At the moment I’ve posted fics for Tales of Arcadia, mcu spiderman, and harry potter, however the other fandoms beside toa are here because there were old crossover fics because I like posting cringe  :’D

Where you post: Ao3 and here as vanilla writing on the tags.

Most popular multi-chapter fic: Distant Relatives (I think it was the first fic I posted in ao3) with 2k+ hits. 

Favorite story you’ve written so far: I believe my favorite fic I’ve written so far is The Road to Recovery because it’s the most recent multi-chapter fics that I’m proud of. I’m happy of how the overall story is going to play out and I enjoy messing with the canon.

Fic you were nervous to post: I believe I was nervous of posting The Boy in Central Park because it’s a fic with with crossover ship, and cringe culture has negatively affected me from fully enjoying myself on what I create.

How you choose your titles: Uhhhhhhh I choose a title that surrounds what the story is about. Honestly making titles are so hard to come up with, it’s probably the thing that takes me the longest to figure out before posting a fic online.

Do you outline: Most of the time, yes. I always make an outline when making a multi-chapter fic. Though when it comes to oneshots, it varies sometimes. Though I don’t finish the outline completely, I write it as I’m also writing my chapters because I’m an impatient gremlin.

Complete: I’ve completed 3 fics, which were all one shots so that really says something :’33

In progress: I’m currently writing chapter 3 of The Road to Recovery, and I’m working on a one shot named The Stray that is Hisirdoux which is a crossever fic where Douxie briefly joins the BPRD in the past.

Coming soon/not yet started: I’m considering writing more Hellboy x toa fics, lately I’ve been thinking of making a fic that revolves around the idea Jim’s extented family dealing with whole troll and magic business, except I don’t do fan ocs so it would be a crossover fic :P. I might make some oneshots for some aus I haven’t touch upon. Other than that I have no idea what I’m doing. 

Do you accept prompts: Only when I ask for them, because I’m a VERY busy person with juggling too many projects.

Upcoming story you are most excited to write: I think I’m most excited with writing the crossover stuff. Idk I just love exploring dynamics that are not from the same universe and can make for an interesting story. 

[quartercentry]

productivity weekly check-in

Day 1-6 of 100 30

     I decided that instead of posting daily (which will lead to distraction) that a weekly check will do for my productivity challenge. I'll update every Saturday since I feel Sunday is the start of a new week. 

WHAT WORKED

- This week sticky notes have come in clutch! I like using the small ones because it forced me to limit what I could reasonably get done in a day.  I decided not to write all these daily to-dos lists in my bujo. It worked out better for me.

I assume it's because I'm tricking my brain. These sticky notes weren't permanent, they could be rewritten, and took up less space. Writing the to-dos on the page, felt overwhelming and too daunting. I don’t know why my brain liked the sticky notes honestly, but it does. So, it worked well for me this week. It worked so well I got a good chunk of my monthly goals checked off. For the first time in months.

- Breaking things into more manageable bits is doing wonders for me. I tend to take on a lot at once because I’m extremely impatient. I want to get a task done all at once as quickly as I can. It’s probably because I lose focus and motivation quickly. By breaking things up I finish things quicker. 

- Reframing my mind on WHAT "being productive" means has probably helped the most. I tried to stop including “the other” in my decisions on what I needed to feel productive. Meaning I stopped doing “performative” productivity and doing things others would think is productive. 

- Reevaluation my to-do list constantly. I realized that sometimes the things I wanted to do just weren’t possible or necessary. For example, my Grad school stuff is depended on the schools updating their websites, which won't happen until September. However, my need to get stuff done had me putting Grad school stuff on my to do list daily. I think by Wednesday I just consolidated all the tasks on to one big sticky note and stuck it the back for September. It help me feel like I was really make progress. 

WHAT DIDN'T WORK

- How I organize things. No matter my system at some point I just feel unorganized. It’s a lie though and it’s something I need to work on. 

- I kept migrating tasks I didn’t what to do. Lmbo. It’s just too easy to draw an arrow. I’m going to try and work on that, for the future. 

[shadowedoracle]

RSS Gift: A Christmas Present for Mama

Happy Holidays! This is my RSS gift for @boushh2187. I’ve really enjoyed being your Santa this year and hope you like your gift! I’m also so, so sorry it’s late and you had to put up with my mixture of ill-health and poor planning. Pro-tip: if writing by hand leave enough time so if you get sick near the end you can still type it up and post on time.

I started a much longer angstier version of this but there were some key things I couldn’t work out about the world. I started writing antidote fluff for the angst scenes and ended up with this family fluff piece instead.

Summary: After giving birth to their second child Belle loses her memories. But it's Christmastime and Gideon doesn't want her to miss out on her present so father and son pay a visit to her in hospital.

Prompt: Belle loses [her] memory after childbirth

Rating: G

[AO3]

Rumplestiltskin sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before ringing the doorbell of the white mayoral mansion. He could have just appeared inside but he’d made a promise to Belle to use magic for trivial purposes less often. She would never have to know he’d done it, but it seemed wrong to conceal it from her -- especially now.

He had just come from the hospital and he couldn’t bear the idea of lying, even by omission, to her when she was in this state. She was just so hurt and confused right now but he, her husband, couldn’t do a thing about it. He had the power of all the Dark Ones but it wasn’t the slightest bit of good. No spell or potion that he knew had had any effect. So he’d had to sit by her bedside and willing her to remember, to give him some sign of recognition. It didn’t help, it never did.

It had been a week since she’d gone into labour four weeks early. A week since the last time his wife had looked at him and known who he was, really seen him to know him. Now, she didn’t remember him, she wore his ring on her finger but she couldn’t recall a single thing about him or their lives together. But how could she when she couldn’t even remember herself?

When she’d first woken up the Doctor Whale had reassured him it was likely just a side-effect of the general anaesthetic. He should have known better than to trust Dr. Frankenstein’s judgement about living patients. But as the day had progressed it had become obvious to all that it was more that that. She remembered nothing about herself or her life.

He’d tried True Love’s Kiss and all the spells and potions he could think of. All the new ones that he’d researched after the Incident with the damned pirate and more. But it had all been for naught.

The closest to any sign of memory had been two days ago, when she’d asked to look at the ring on his finger. A flutter of hope had beaten through his chest as he’d shown her the ring on his finger and had let her stroke her finger across the blue moonstone. When she had back looked up at his face as her fingertips had swirled over the stone, his breath had caught in his throat when he’d thought he’d spied a glimmer of her normal self in her eyes. But then the moment was gone as if it never were. Neither the cold stone nor the quick accidental touch of her fingertips to his knuckle had woken her. He’d masked his emotions as quickly as he could but he knew it hadn’t been quickly enough.

His Belle had always read him like a book and even if she didn’t know him any more, it seemed she could still read him.

It could be the only possible explanation for why she seemed to trust him so. He could have been anything to her. He could have been lying to her but when he had pointed that out to her, she’d just smiled told him that she could tell he was a ‘good man’. Somehow even with no memories, no sense of self she still saw the best in him.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts as Regina herself answered the door in a sleek navy skirt suit and pristine white shirt.

“Any progress?” She asked softly, as she moved to the side to let him in.

He shook his head.

She gave a sympathetic little smile,“It’ll work out. It’s hardly the first time she’s lost her memories. You’ll work out the trick to recovering them this time and soon enough your wife will have the dubious pleasure of remembering you again.”

He quirked an eyebrow, “Do I have to remind you, dearie, two of the times Belle forgot who she was, you were more than a little involved.”

She straightened a little and said stiffly, “Yes, well. I’m not that person any more. And if I may remind you, you’re not the man you were then either.”

Rumplestiltskin sighed, suddenly feeling bone tired, “No I’m not. I know you’re not involved this time anyway, dearie. If I thought there was even a chance you might know anything about this well, this conversation would be taking place in a very different setting,” he said and let his lip curl into a sardonic smile and added in a lower voice, “with much more pain.” He shook his head and shifted back to his lighter conversational tone, “And I most certainly would not be entrusting you with the care of my son. Speaking of, how has he been?”

Regina looked as if she had wanted to say something else before his abrupt change of topic but evidently changed her mind and just gestured a hand vaguely towards the living room.

“He’s been good as Gold--” she winced, having evidentially not seen that obvious pun coming, “He’s playing with Henry now.”

Shrieks of joy were emitting from the living room and Rumplestiltskin felt some of the tension leaving him as he walked towards the sound of his son’s happy laugh.

But as he stood in the doorway and watched Henry leap around the room twirling a Duplo model around in his hand and knock an arm off the Duplo model Gideon was wielding as a weapon, he also felt the familiar weight of sorrow creep over his heart. His little boy who just missed his mother dreadfully but didn’t know she might not be the mother he knew when he saw her.

Belle hated it too. She was much less distressed overall this time compared to the Incident with the pirate. The only time he’d seen her get truly upset was when she realized she had no memories of her child.

“What kind of a mother forgets her child?” She’d sobbed.

And while she wasn’t truly comfortable with him, she’d allowed him to comfort her just that once. Had allowed him tuck her into his arms where she belonged and stroke her hair, in just the pattern he knew soothed her.

He hoped what he was about to do was a good idea, both Gideon and Belle would be so crushed if this went wrong.

He stood there, just watching his son and grandson, loathe to interrupt their fun for what seemed like a long time. But it couldn’t have been very long before Gideon with more luck than anything else managed to knock Henry’s Duplo model out of his hands.

Henry fell to his knees and raised beseeching hands towards Gideon, “Oh, have mercy oh great and powerful Gideonasaurobot!”

“No! No mercy. Gideonasaurobot must punish you with tickles!” Gideon shrieked dropping his own model and launching himself at Henry.

“No! No! Anything but that.” Henry cried as Gideon’s wriggling fingers connected with his stomach, trying and failing to bat them away.

Rumplestiltskin coughed, hating to bring his son’s fun to an end but figuring he ought to save Henry from the indignity of losing a tickle fight to a three-year-old.

Henry glanced over his shoulder and smiled at his grandfather. He prodded Gideon’s arm and pointed towards the door. Gideon turned, his face lightening up as he ran and flung himself at his father’s legs.

“Papa!” Rumplestiltskin staggered back, grabbing the door frame to help him keep his balance.

He smiled as he bent down and picked up Gideon.

“So were you good for Regina and Henry?” Gideon nodded vigorously. “I was very, very good. The goodest! I even got to eat Christmas cookies I was so good.”

“Did you now?” Rumplestiltskin smiled down at his son, while privately hoping that Regina hadn’t left Gideon consume too much sugar.

“Yeah! They were tasty and I learned magic,” Gideon finished proudly.

Rumplestiltskin half-turned and shot a filthy glare at Regina; she couldn’t possibly think he would approve of her teaching his three-year-old son magic.

She crossed her arms, “It wasn’t me it was Henry."

Rumplestiltskin turned back and stared at Henry in befuddlement. Henry just grinned and started chucking Duplo back into a large red plastic box.

“I show you,” Gideon said wriggling until his father gently lowered him back down. Gideon patted his leg, “Wait here,” he said before racing off to the back of the room.

Rumplestiltskin watched him gather up his stuffed bunny and a large velvet top hat and come running back towards him.

Rumplestiltskin looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Regina.

She rolled her eyes, “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not what you think -- it’s just a hat.”

Rumplestiltskin felt a whoosh of relief go through him. He’d been fairly certain Henry wouldn’t teach Gideon actual magic but it didn’t stop him worrying.

“Papa!” Rumplestiltskin returned his gaze to his son. “And what great feat of magic are you going to show me?”

Gideon waved the stuffed rabbit around and its long off-white ears flapped against the blue and white checkered shirt. “Now you see Mr. Floppy Ears.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded, “I see him.”

“Yes. Now watch me put Mr. Floppy Ears in the hat,” Gideon said hugging the hat to his stomach and dropping the rabbit inside.

“Okay, I see him. He’s in the hat. But where’s the magic in that?”

“Shh, you’ll see,” his son replied impatiently as he placed the hat on his head.

It probably would have come down over his eyes if the rabbit hadn’t been in there Rumplestiltskin thought smiling.

Gideon waved black wand with white tips clutched in his chubby fist, “Abra Cadaver!”

Rumplestiltskin snorted quietly, wishing Belle were here and they could share this experience together.

Gideon raised the hat off his head and Rumplestiltskin pretended not to see him stuff Mr. Floppy Ears into the front of his shirt. He held out the hat proudly.

“Oh no! What have you done with poor Mr. Floppy Ears?” Rumplestiltskin exclaimed smiling down at his son.

Gideon giggled, “I magicked him out of the hat!”

“But to where? Where could you have magicked him to?”

Rumplestiltskin put his hand in the hat and pretended to try to find the bunny, “Here’s not in here.”

He looked Gideon up and down, then leaned around and pulled slightly on his left ear and pretended to check behind it. “He’s not here either.”

Gideon was bouncing up and down little body quivering with mirth as Rumplestiltskin checked the behind the right ear, “Nope not here either. Where can you have sent Mr. Floppy Ears?”

Gideon grinned proudly up at his father and pulled the bunny out from under his shirt.

“Here!” Rumplestiltskin smiled and clapped, “Well done! However did you manage that? I thought for sure you’d sent him to the land of bunnies.”

Gideon laughed, “No, that would be silly. He likes it here with me.”

Rumplestiltskin picked him up again and kissed his sticky cheek, “Does he now? That’s good, I think he’s the only thing keeping you out of trouble sometimes. Are you ready to go?”

Gideon nodded against his chest. “Then say 'goodbye' and 'thank you' to Henry."

Gideon twisted in his arms and waved his chubby hand. “Bye bye thank you Henry.”

Henry smiled and waved back, “Bye Gideon. I’ll teach you more magic next time you’re over.”

“Yeah!” Gideon slapped hand to his father’s chest.

“Ow! Gideon, no slapping remember?”

“Sorry, Papa,” Gideon trilled.

He kissed the top of Gideon’s head. “It’s okay, just try to remember next time. Papas are very delicate you know.”

He whirled a hand to collect Gideon’s things together. There was not using magic for trivial purposes and there was stupidity in trying to hunt around for all randomly dispersed mess of a toddler. Rumplestiltskin started walking towards the door of the house.

“Wait.” Regina’s voice made him pause and he turned back to her with a raised eyebrow. “What is it dearie?”

“I have something else for you take with you. Wait here.”

She returned a minute later with a red metal tin.

“Here. These are some of the Christmas cookies we made.”

He smiled, “Thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you. Isn’t it Gideon? Say ‘thank you’ to Regina and ‘bye-bye’”

“Thank you. Bye-bye!” Gideon’s sung out.

“Bye, bye little man. We’ll see you again soon. Okay?” Regina said waving as they passed.

Gideon nodded into Rumplestiltskin's chest, “’Kay!”

Rumplestiltskin put Gideon down and helped him into his winter clothes.

“Thanks for this Regina.”

She shrugged, “It’s been no bother. Will you need me to look after him again this week?”

Rumplestiltskin shook his head, “Granny’s said she’ll take him for some the time and the Charmings have said they’ll have him over to play with Neal as well. So hopefully that’ll tide us through until Belle can come home and then,” he shrugged, “we’ll have to play that by ear I think.”

Regina nodded, “Let me know though. If you need any more help.”

“I will, thanks. I’ll try and find some way to make it up to you too.” Rumplestiltskin gave her an evil grin, “How about I see if Mal’s available for dinner sometime.”

Regina blushed slightly, “I can talk to her myself you know.”

“True, but you never do.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Is this the sort of meddling the mighty Dark One gets up to these days? Arranging dinner dates?”

“Ah, but I never said it was a date.”

Regina rolled her eyes and made and shooing motion with her hands. “Just take your child and go you meddlesome man.”

He grinned at her and picked Gideon up, adjusting his hat and scarf when he was safely in the crook of his arm again.

“Until next time Regina.”

“Goodbye and goodbye to you too Gideon.”

She waved once more before shutting the door firmly behind them.

Rumplestiltskin walked them to the car and carefully put Gideon into his booster seat.

“Are you ready to visit Mama and your baby sister and give them your present?”

“Yeah!” Gideon grinned excitedly up at him.

Rumplestiltskin smiled back and tried not to think that this trip very likely to turn out to be a bad idea.

***

Rumplestiltskin, got out of the driver’s seat and slid into the back seat next to the booster seat. He undid Gideon’s seat belt carefully and pulled his son into his lap.

“Now remember what we talked about before, all right? We’ll go see Mama and you can give her your present but she’s still sick.”

Gideon nodded into his father’s shoulder. “Okay,” He said in a small voice.

Rumplestiltskin took his hand gently and wondered if he was doing the right thing taking Gideon to see Belle. He was bound to be upset when she didn’t recognize him and then she’d be upset too. But he missed her so much and so wanted to give her her present. And the desperate foolish part of his mind hoped that maybe, just maybe, seeing her son would spark some memories.

“Just remember, Mama’s sick and has forgotten some stuff. She knows who you are of course,” he winced internally, it was not exactly lying to his son. He’d shown her pictures of her son and she was able to make new memories since the birth, so it wasn’t exactly a lie. But somehow finding that loophole made him feel far worse finding loopholes usually did. He decided to plough on and deal with his guilty conscience later, “She misses you and she wants to see you. But she won’t remember all the little stuff she normally does, so try not to ask her too many questions.”

“Oh,” Gideon replied in a small voice. He twisted a hand into father’s shirt collar.

“Papa?”

“Yes?” Rumplestiltskin laid a comforting had over Gideon’s.

Gideon chewed his lip,“Did I make Mama sick?”

Rumplestiltskin blinked. “No of course not,” he replied quickly. “Why would you think that?”

Gideon fixed his gaze on Rumplestiltskin’s chest and chewed his lip some more.

“Gideon?” Rumplestiltskin stroked Gideon’s hand, “Just tell me son. You can tell me anything remember?”

Gideon nodded and mumbled something into his chest.

Rumplestiltskin shook his head. “I’m really sorry Gideon. I couldn’t hear you.”

Gideon took a big gulp of breath and said quickly, in a small voice, “I got mad at her.”

Rumplestiltskin felt his heart clench at the guilt in Gideon’s voice. He hugged his son close to him and ran a gentle hand over his head.

“That’s okay Gideon.” He said soothingly, “You are allowed to get mad at her sometimes. We all get mad at each other sometimes. It’s harmless and you most definitely did not make her sick.” He paused, “Do you remember why were you mad at her?”

Gideon nodded, “I told her I wanted the baby to go away. Out of her tummy. I told her I want it to go away so I can sit on her lap again.”

Rumplestiltskin smiled down at Gideon and shook his head, “Well I’m afraid you can’t go back to being an only child, but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He leaned in conspiratorially and lowed his voice almost to a whisper.

“What?” Gideon breathed back.

“Mama wanted the baby out of there too. She was getting very tired of it kicking her all the time.”

Gideon frowned. “Why didn’t she tell it off? She tells me off for kicking things.”

Rumplestiltskin smiled. “Well you see, when the baby was in her tummy it couldn’t hear and understand things yet. But now she’s outside Mama’s tummy she’ll have to learn not to kick things just like you. So you’ll have to be a very good big brother and show her how it’s done.”

“Will I get to sit on Mama’s lap again if I do?”

Rumplestiltskin nodded, “of course. Although not on this visit because Mama’s still sore because she’s sick. But afterwards you can, just like before, but you’ll have to take turns with your sister. Okay?”

Gideon nodded slowly, “I guess.”

Rumplestiltskin leaned over and kissed his forehead and stroked his hair again, enjoying the whiff of baby shampoo that reached his nostrils, “That’s a good lad.”

They sat in the back of the car for another few minutes before Rumplestiltskin decided they were as ready as they were going to be.

He got the little present bag with the present from Gideon, out of the trunk and let Gideon hold it as they walked through the hospital, periodically checking they hadn't managed to lose it on the way.

The hospital was all bright lights, loud voices and lots of bustling movement making Gideon inch closer and closer to his father’s legs until Rumplestiltskin just decided that would be easier to carry him the rest of the way and hefted Gideon into the crook of his arm.

“Almost there. Almost there, Gideon.”

Belle’s door was ajar when they reached her ward. He placed Gideon on the ground and crouched in front of him.

“Wait here for one moment while I check if Mama’s ready to see us. You know what she’s like -- she could still be fixing her hair.”

Gideon giggled and nodded.

He patted his son’s head and stood up, pushing the door open a little more and slipped his head around it. He felt a rush of relief, when he saw Belle sitting upright in bed reading. At least she wasn’t sleeping, she’d managed to stay awake most of the last couple of days but he’d still put off bringing Gideon to visit. Hoping her memory would be better mostly. But he knew it would distress Gideon less if she was at least alert and could pretend to be a bit more her usual self.

He tapped a lightly on the door frame and he was chagrined to see he her start at the loud noise. She swivelled her head up and towards the door.

He smiled, a little self-consciously, at the woman who both was and wasn’t his wife, “Sorry didn’t mean to startle you.”

She shook her head, “It’s fine. I don’t mind. I was just reading this book you bought me.” She gave an ironic little smile, “Guess the nice side to losing one’s memories is discovering stories like these for the first time again.” She held up her old battered blue-leather bound copy of the Her Handsome Hero.

He’d hoped an object from her childhood, of her mother’s, might have helped remind her who she was. There was no sign of any change but he couldn’t help but hope that it might spark a small change that would led somewhere.

He smiled back at her, “Well I’m glad you found a bright side to it. Are you available for company? I have a very eager young man here to see you.”

Her smile faded a little and she began to look a little apprehensive. But before he could offer to bring Gideon back another day, she nodded, “Sure. You said you’d be bringing him by. Now’s as good a time as any. Not as if I’m doing much just sitting here reading all day.”

He gave her one more appraising glance but she’d steeled herself to do this and with or without her memories Belle was both stubborn when she’d set her mind to something.

He turned back to Gideon, who’d sat himself on the floor, in the short time he’d been waiting. Rumplestiltskin supposed at least it was a hospital so the floor was probably cleaner than a lot of surfaces he’d played on.

“Come on Gideon. Mama’s ready to see you now.”

“She is?!” Gideon’s face lit up and scrambled to his feet.

Rumplestiltskin nodded and held the door open wider and beckoned towards his son. “Come on.”

His son ran eagerly past him, “Mama!”

Belle waved at him with a bright smile on her face and only her eyes betraying the nerves.

Gideon made to leap onto the bed and Rumplestiltskin only just managed to grab the back of his coat in time. “Uh, uh, uh. Remember what we talked about. You have to be gentle with Mama because she’s sick.”

Gideon slumped a little, “Oh yeah.”

Belle patted the bed beside her, “You can sit next to me if you like though.”

Gideon approached the bed slowly and scrambled up to her side, dragging the little present bag along the bed behind him and Rumplestiltskin just able to rescue it from being squished when Gideon down.

Belle slid her arm around her son, “how have you been Gideon?”

Gideon snuggled into her side. “Good. Missing you.”

There was only a slight pause from Belle, “I missed you too. But they say I should be able to come home soon. That’ll be good, won’t it?” She added a little false cheer into her voice.

“Yeah. You can see all the presents Santa got me!”

“Oh. Did Santa get you a lot of presents?”

Gideon nodded. “I got some trains, a tractor, some farm animals. And… and a puzzle and Play Doh. Oh! And a tricycle.”

“Did you now? My that’s a lot of presents!” You must have been very good,” she paused, confused.

Rumplestiltskin had begun to recognize this as her tick whenever she realized knew something in theory but did not know how she knew it or have any memories associated with how she acquired that knowledge.

He didn’t want Gideon getting upset, so he settled for distracting him. “Gideon has something for you, don’t you Gideon.”

Gideon nodded eagerly, grabbing the present bag and shoving it into Belle’s arms.

“Here!”

She peaked into the bag and pulled out the gift Rumplestiltskin had wrapped for Gideon

“I wonder what it could be,” she said shaking the rectangular parcel wrapped in white paper with little Christmas trees on it.

Gideon giggled at her display, “Open it! Open it!”

She smiled and tore the wrapping paper off to reveal a plastic picture frame covered in glitter glue. She gasped, “Did you make this yourself? For me?”

Gideon puffed his chest out a little. “Yeah. I made it all sparkly and shiny!”

“It’s so pretty! I’ll have to think of the best picture to put in here to do it justice!”

“Actually...” Rumplestiltskin began and both mother and son turned their heads towards the chair to the right of the bed where he’d settled himself.

“Yes?” Belle asked gently when he didn’t continue.

He shifted slightly, aware that the idea he’d come up with last night after arranging this visit might turn out to be a bad one.

“Well… I brought one with me so you could have it here while you’re waiting to come home.” He met her eyes and was glad to see they were still smiling at him, “Just until you’re home, of course.” He added, “You can pick out your own one then.”

She smiled brightly at him, “That’s a wonderful idea! Don’t you think that’s a wonderful idea Gideon?”

Gideon beamed and bounced a little on his bottom, “Yeah!”

Rumplestiltskin reached into his jacket and pulled out the photo he’d selected. It had taken a long time to decide but he was happy with his choice.

“It’s one of the ones from Gideon’s last birthday party,” he said handing over the photo.

It was a simple picture Henry had taken of the three of them in their back garden, Belle was leaning against his shoulder laughing as they both watched Gideon make the large plastic dinosaurs he’d gotten for his birthday walk on their heads.

Belle gave him a grateful little smile, “It’s perfect! I can sit it right here beside my bed so I can have something nicer to look at while I have to stay here.”

She gave Gideon a light squeeze and kissed his cheek, “Thank you both. What a wonderful present!”

Gideon beamed. “I told Papa you’d like it. And lots of blue glitter best.”

Belle nodded sagely, “And you were right on both counts.”

Rumplestiltskin smiled at the two of them. This was going better than expected he thought. It didn’t look like this had sparked any change in Belle but at least Gideon was getting some time with his Mama and she was managing to keep him from getting upset.

A wail came from the box at the end of the bed and broke him out of his reverie.

Gideon started and jammed his hands over his ears, “What’s that?”

Rumplestiltskin went to the bassinet at the end of the bed, reaching in and cradling the small babe in his arms and rocking her gently, “This is your baby sister.”

Gideon pulled his hands away from his ears, “Is she always loud?”

Belle laughed and reached out her arms towards her husband, “I think she’s hungry."

He returned to her and carefully placed their daughter in her arms. She smiled down at her and cooed, “Shh, shh. Mama’s here. Are you hungry little one?”

She evidently was hungry because she calmed down as soon as she was suckling at Belle’s breast. Gideon watched wide-eyed.

“Why aren’t you feeding her?”

Belle smiled, “I am feeding her. This is how babies eat.”

“Looks more like drinking.”

“Well, she’s too small to eat proper food so this is how babies eat.”

Gideon wrinkled his nose. “Weird!”

Belle laughed, “you were one once yourself you know! You ate this way too.”

Gideon wrinkled his nose, not sure what to make of this idea.

He stared at his sister and reached over a finger as if to poke her.

Rumplestiltskin grabbed his hand just in time, “no poking your sister.”

Gideon pouted, “Oh.” He frowned as if considering something, “does she have a name?”

Rumplestiltskin nodded, “Rosalind Colette. But we’re probably going to just call her Rosa most of the time.”

Gideon waved a hand towards his sister’s face. “Hello Rosa. I’m Gideon. I’m your big brother!”

He looked up at his father, “Where’s Mr. Floppy Ears?”

Rumplestiltskin dug the rabbit out of the front pocket of his coat and handed him over.

Gideon grabbed the toy and stuffed him into bed next to Belle.

She gave him a puzzled look, “Why are you doing that?”

“I think he should stay and keep you and Rosa company until you get better and come home,” Gideon said earnestly.

Rumplestiltskin felt his heart swell with love and pride and looked across to see Belle’s eye’s watering with emotion too.

She blinked a few times then smiled down at Gideon.

“You’re a good boy, Gideon. I promise you while I may forget a lot of things until I get well again, I won’t forget that I love you because you’re my best little guy and I will always know I love you. Okay.”

Gideon nodded and cuddled into her side, “Love you too”.

She leaned down and just managed to kiss his hair without disturbing the baby.

Rumplestiltskin smiled at the tableau his family made on the bed. In that moment he felt sure that they would get through this terrible time as a family, that Belle would get better and all would be right again. But even if she didn’t, if nothing could be done for her, he could for the first time see a path where they could still all be happy. He wouldn’t stop fighting for his family and trying to make this right but in that moment he felt certain that, one way or the other, they would all get through this.

[namjoonchronicles]

robes | nj

↳ genre fluff, domestic au, namjoon husband au, marriage au ain’t no smut inside i think? is that scene considered smut hmm no idea

↳ words 4k

↳ summary the ordeals that females face everyday isn’t something new to talk about, but it’s an issue that needs constant reminder. everything is fine and dandy until namjoon heard first-hand, how it actually sounds like. and the event that followed suit is a bonus intended soothe the heaviness of the first half, you’re welcome. prepare to be a ball of mush

↳ warning slight suggestive content, catcalling, feminism, public indecency, sexual harassment (so you know what it looks like), disturbing descriptions regarding masturbation; public transport, corn dogs is a food, mentions of pornography, heart goes boom-boom material--what even is these warnings, but it’s all true so, you’ve been warned don’t come whining at me kim gyeongmin is also namjoon’s baby sister’s actual name, i know bc i asked him.

↳ namjoonchronicles’ honorary tag list @kai-tashi @joon94net @yoongiseesaws @yourlocalalien @mentallycryinghanriver @majestikblue @septemberalien 

↳ special thanks to @fangirlaholicxx for she’s having an exam week and still deliver, a dependable wife indeed; she liked this, that’s why i’m posting it... also I’m in need of my readers’ blood

↳ song maisie peters ‘feels like this’

How does Namjoon react to you being catcalled? Not great. Not great at all, really.

He is sitting anxiously in his own office, after sending you off alone to get some things Gyeongmin needed for her big day. Because he was so stricken with the need to protect you constantly, he had to give you a call and hear your voice to make sure you’re alright.

“Hello…” chic voice, business-only tone. “Hi, it’s me, are you anywhere nearby the office?” he asked, finding random excuses to get you home earlier than you plan. The closest building he could think of, being his own office. “I’m just walking out the store, why? Is there something you want me to get you?” you asked, genuinely concerned that he might be needing something and because you’re not far away from the store yet, you turned around to head back where you came out of.

“No, I just…” and then he heard it. A raunchy voice, whistling and moaning out loud.

“Hot stuff, where you going looking nice like that!” “You look like my future baby mama…” They howled. They clink bottles. They stuck their tongue out. And attempt to get near. “Who you callin’? You have to get off the phone, and get off of me, pretty princess!” “I hope it’s not your boyfriend… I’ll be so sad.”

Namjoon held on his phone, tight. His lips felt dry, he clenches his jaw and balled his fist. He was only hearing this, and it felt disgusting. You, on the other hand, were experiencing it, as the phone call progresses.

“That looks heavy, can you carry it? Do you want my help, lady?” the grouchy voice is mocking. Namjoon straightens up in his seat.

“Just what? I can’t hear you, these dumbasses are speaking so loud,” you covered one ear and spoke louder through the phone. “She just calls us dumbasses!” a roar of laughter followed  suit and Namjoon let out a sentence in harsh rasps, “Just get to my office as fast as you can.”

You stared at your phone while the catcallers showed a derogatory moves, by moving their hips and rubbing their manhood over their jeans. You shake your head and continued your pace. It sucks. Walking along as a young woman, sucks. And it’s sad. Sad because, it had become the norm. It’s upsetting to say, “They’re like that, because I’m a woman.” It’s unsettling, terrorising and degrading. To feel like you’re at fault, because you’re a women and was treated like that.

But you had a fair share of it. You know, the moment you stepped into the office, Namjoon will want to talk about it. He didn’t have to sputter a word, because his face says it all. His aura, his body-language, everything is so clear. Namjoon, when it comes to you, bares it all. You set the bags down, next to your purse, then placed the take-outs on the wooden coffee table Namjoon has in his studio. Ridding your cardigan, you sat with a huff and Namjoon replaced a book in his shelf. Today, he decided to reread his favorite page in ‘Boys Don’t Cry’ by Malorie Blackman. He glanced over his shoulder at you and saw how you were biting on corn dogs on a stick, playing with your phone on his couch.

Impatient, he dashes, “It doesn’t bother you?” “What?” you mumbled, chewing mindlessly. Lying, feigning, fabricating the fact that it did. You were doing what every other girl did. Well, what every other powerless and unnerving girls who go through this every day, would do. Ignoring it. Moving on.

“They said some pretty obnoxious things, babe,” he turns to face you, standing up.

“It’s normal, why are you so worked up by it… it’s what they do when they see women walking alone,” you swallowed in a hurry and smacked your tongue, only to gnaw another bite. The way you replied shows how you neglect the weight of the conversation. He was afraid for your safety. Your well-being. Your condition when he’s not around. 

“Corn dogs?” You took one for him and held it out. “How are you so… relaxed?” Namjoon joined you on the couch and took half of the corn dog into his mouth. He is angry, and hungry. It’s a bad combination.

“Listen,” you mashed your lips together before continuing, “It’s what I dealt with, every single day when I was single. I stayed in apartments alone, walked home from work alone, I get catcalled. It happens to me, it happens to everybody. And you know I stayed single longer than you. Before you, I was not in a relationship. I had to commute by train. I could be in my own car and still get catcalled. The things you hear, aren’t even half of the things I’ve heard before…”

“You’re telling me, it’s actually a lot worse?!” he exclaims. The sauce get smeared on the corner of his lips and you thumbed them away before licking them off your own thumb, grinning and resuming your horrifying ordeal with catcalling assholes. Namjoon looks like he’s in an on-going horror movie, except it’s real life.

“One time, I was commuting the train and didn’t sit because I wanted to stare out the windows, this random dude came from behind and starts nuzzling his ding-dongs on my bum… and another time, I did find a seat but this old pensioner starts tapping his manhood, smirking at me with his knees spread wide… I just look away, that’s why I carry backpacks all the time. So they can’t touch my bum.”

Namjoon stopped chewing, and placed his half-eaten corn dog down. He was visibly upset. “Let me finish that for you…” you took his corndog without hearing his reply.

It shouldn’t have been like that. It doesn’t matter what you wore, what girls wore, they should be able to roam the streets freely, without feeling like they’re being watched all the time. The world should have been safe for them as well. But here we are…

“If you ask me why it is so, man are used to jerking off on images of women, they’re looking for more thrill by jerking off on a real person, in a more public setting. It’s in the nature of man. A symbol of power, domination, jilted bravery. Playboys, Maxims, Victoria Secrets, they’re all tools to that. And for people who couldn’t find satisfaction out of it, they engorge into a more fronting situation, and then that leads to rape. All kinds of rapes, date rapes, club rapes, rapes. When things aren’t readily for them. And if that doesn’t fulfill their fantasy, they kill. Like Ted Bundy. Obsession turns to murder. And it all began with a somewhat ‘harmless’ pornography. That’s why I’m against it. Objectifying women. We are more than our curves, more than our boobs and womanhood.”

More. Namjoon listened to you attentively. He doesn’t intrude, doesn’t speak over your voice, he welcomes all your opinions. It’s why he married you after all. You and him are equals. Although he wasn’t the one having to fight daily over catcallers, he has a number of women in his life who went through this and wants to protect them. Feminism was not about freeing the nipples, it’s about being respected as a human being. What good does freeing the nipples bring to feminism? We are more ridiculed than ever because we’re feeding into their desires. To see us bare without a thread of clothing, freely, without doing anything, like the girls in Playboy magazine! It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense at all.

Namjoon is reminded about the article you wrote in your blog a few years back, “All that feminism should be is to celebrate women’s freedom to creativity, to earn and to be a part of the mechanism that brings forth a better city, country, world. That’s what image of feminism is. It’s not about having equal physical strength, wearing a cloth that resembles a man, because we do not need to be reminded about the very creature that denounces us. We wanted to be us, not them.” He felt empowered by it. Because he too is a public figure, he can’t say certain things out loud, but if he’s looking for a feminism icon, he’s looking at one, and lucky enough to marry her. That itself is enough to make him blush.

What irks him the most is that he couldn’t be with you 24/7; but he forgot that there are others in the world who couldn’t be there for their loved ones too. Protectiveness is the ability to provide a safe environment for everyone. It is not just about shielding a person from physical harm. Because harm exist in many forms: verbal, mental, spiritual. He decided that the first thing about being a feminist is to have courage. Courage. Courage is not slaying a dragon with a sword the size of a child. It’s the ability to do what you can, with what you have, where you are at the time. That is one of the many thing he finds attractive on you. The ability to speak out, to remain so calm at the time of panic, the dire need to change the world, armed with your resilience.

“God, I love you,” staring at you, in tunneling gaze. He shrinks himself, sitting sideways to watch you eat your third corn dog, his hands sandwiched between his knees, “And I’m going to get you another can of pepper spray.”

Your eyes travel up, behind his head, on the wall where both of his robes are hung, never really realizing that they’ve come home from travelling.

“Are you free this Saturday?” he whips out his phone and began scrolling down his contacts, and stopping at Jungkook’s number. “Why?” you smacked your lips together, running your tongue along the length, focusing on your food instead of your husband. “We’re taking boxing classes...”

But I already know how to box, Namjoon… He learned that fact, the hard way. Good thing is that, you went easy.

All he had to do was touch your thigh. And you’re a whirlwind of a mess within. The traffic looks awfully busy from the view of your balcony this morning but once you embarked on your journey, it wasn’t as bad. Namjoon, as per usual, begins fiddling on the car radio to plug his aux-in with some good music of your taste. And that means, a whip of good ol’ Hozier.

“Work song?” he asked as you shut the back door and you spat, “Yeah...” Fixing your glasses, you tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, pressing your lips together, smoothing your one piece pinching pink dress that enunciates your figure to a whole new level. To Namjoon’s dismay. But he lets it pass because it’s a special day. And it’s in a private setting, no catcallers there. Even if they were, he’s ready to knock them unconscious, if he needs to.

As soon as the chorus hits, your phone rings. Namjoon pressed them on his ear, knowing that you can’t answer the call, he breathed in a sing-song voice, “Hello~”

The car reverses and cornered right, before motioning straight to leave the parking lot.

“We are just leaving...” Namjoon spoke through the phone, flinching at you once in awhile. Hands on the steering wheel, clawing on a perfect 10-2 position on the clock, he could sense that you were anxious and trying to keep the situation as chill as possible.

He covers the phone with his hand and leaned over to the driver side, murmuring softly, “They’re asking if you took the pins.”

“Yup, it’s in the bag on the backseat,” you blurted in one breathe. Passing a smile to hide your nervousness. It’s a very big day. On the contrary of yesterday’s topic, where you stood brave and resounding, today, you’re gentle and exquisitely charming. As the event fits.

The call ended with, “We’re on the way...” and you suddenly reminded that you were wearing shoes instead of heel so you kept your eyes forward and ask your handy husband to check if you brought your heels under the seat with his long arms. He reaches under your seat easily, and takes them out. He confirmed that it most definitely there.

“Gosh, it’s a long way to the halls though...” you whined against the steering wheel, hitting your forehead on them at the red light. You know the place quite well and you know that there’s no parking close enough to the hall, you try to prepare yourself mentally. There’s nothing more you hate than to walk in heels. Namjoon was all smiles since morning. He was humming a melody and was tranquil ever since he woke up. It didn’t take a lot to wake him today and his excitement is highly contagious. Which was news, considering that it was pretty strenuous late night workout he had with you. No hickeys this morning, unlike usual. He was always pretty gentle. Floating touches, airy kisses, like he’s handling a glass sculpture. Making love is art. It’s hard to register the image of this suited handsome man and his expensive Rolex, staring forlornly out the window of the moving car,, the same way he was last night; all hot, sweaty and heavy. But here we are… The contrast was baffling and pleasing.

“Check the dashboard and see if there’s tissue mini packs,” patting on his knee repeatedly, urgently. He reaches for it while mumbling, “Why do you need tissue packs.”

“Oh you’ll see.”

When you arrived with Namjoon, you kicked away the shoes and traded for heels, balancing yourself by putting your hand on his pecs. Getting a good grab at those defined muscles and perky clothed nipples. He holds your wrist and handbag, his stance barely staggering at your weight. His eyes drops to the view of your hand on his chest and he bit the insides his cheek. His lips protruding like a baby chick's.

“You’re enjoying this,” Namjoon grins. He’s not necessarily hating the attention. It was his wife and as dirty minded he was, his wife was double that number. The universe ain’t lying that it created two pieces of the same soul when Namjoon met you. “I most certainly am,” you switch to the other feet and, “what good is your husband thick pecs if its not for grabbing?” You tilt your head to one side and claw his tiddies through his cloth. He winced away, giggling. “I’m suing you.”

You walked away from him and, “Okay, do me a full view and tell me is everything in place...” He crossed one arm on his chest and rest his elbow on them, to purse his lips, “The ass is definitely there.” You marched at him and grabbed your handbag with a playful slap on his stomach. “I fucking hate heels,” you growled, and he shot, “Did I ever tell you, you look fucking hot when you curse? But today, extra hot. I think it’s the dress...” “No honey,” you shake your head with an angelic smile, locking hands with him, “I look hot because it’s me.” He was stunned, like a light bulb lights up in his head and he goes, almost trance-like, “You’re right. You’re so smart I love you...”

Once you got there, Namjoon is holding onto your bag, standing against the handrail, next to his dad and Gyeongmin’s boyfriend, watching you take over. Gyeongmin looks dazzling in her long dress, teal green, and her hair in a regal bun— absolutely exquisite. She had to continuously bow down because you were too short and you needed to pin her graduation robes in the right place. “Are you getting a calf workout, Gyeongmin?” Namjoon joked.

And Gyeongmin pressed her lips together so that her smile doesn’t get bigger than it is. Couples that tease each other, stay together. You bit your smile and threw him the car keys that you couldn’t give him before because you began to fix her robes the moment you found her.. He caught them with one hand with a smug smile.

“Alright, the colored band goes underneath the hook, and if it rode up as you walk, all you have to do is tug it down hard,” you instructed her. You’re the busiest person there. Her mother helps carry her things, her phone and watching you groom her daughter to perfection. There’s several graduands around but only Gyeongmin earns your attention. She was 75% per cent ready.

“It’s going to be heavy, and it’s going to be warm but later in the halls it will be very cold,” you reminded her and in a glance, you caught her shimmering eyes, impending  tears about to fall. You noticed them but you look away.

“Why...” you sang. And Gyeongmin sniffed. “I’ve nev—“ “A-a-ah, no crying allowed,” you gently scolded her and changed the subject, “Did you eat anything today? Did you pee? It’s very important, it’s very difficult to pee with robes on.” “I had bread...” she sniffed and seemingly recover from the tiny breakdown. Namjoon caught your flapping hand, “There’s mint in the bag, can you take that out?”

When he came, he was already chewing one mint. “Those are not for you...” you slapped his thick bum and made Gyeongmin giggle. Of course, laugh, smile—it’s your happy day. Unwrapping one mint for her, you popped them in her mouth but your loving husband, unwraps one for you and pops them in your mouth while you pin Gyeongmin’s robe in place

“The mortar board please?” you asked and you know that she was too tall for you to put them neatly so you dragged Namjoon by the sleeves again to have him placed the mortar board on her. He does so very carefully, as if she’s made of glass. Her boyfriend smiled proudly at her. Her doe eyes looking up from the view of Namjoon’s nostril and a smile is stuck on her face. They weren’t very close growing up. Namjoon chose a demanding job at 15, producing and writing lyrics, and the only memory they shared was when they’re teenagers. Young adulthood was also not very promising. The relationship grew even more estranged because they’ve become completely different from each other. While Namjoon travels the world, Gyeongmin is a full-time student, studying in the US. You decided that on Gyeongmin’s graduation day, everyone should play a role. You helped Namjoon reconnect with his family, especially Gyeongmin.

No longer is he the boy who picks on his sister, no longer is he the one to take away all the umbrella in the house because he was fighting with her.

“Namjoon hyung is very lucky,” her boyfriend  sighed, reclining next to you, “Hot sister, hot wife... hot mom.”

“You’ll fit in the family right away, but Namjoon is very scary, especially to male subordinate,” you wiggled your brows at him, fetching the bags. Gyeongmin wanted to take photos before the scroll receiving ceremony because she’s all prepared now. You suggested it. Namjoon’s all smart with his black suits, and brown vest, Prada cufflinks.

“Hello handsome,” you tiptoed and fixed his tie, smoothing down the vest. He tucks your hair behind your ears, “You wore the earrings I bought you.”

“Ms. Kim Gyeongmin’s family?” the photographer called. You unknowingly pushed yourself aside, next to the pillar, holding your bag, standing behind the camera until Gyeongmin calls out your name but you were too occupied with the crowd going behind you to listen. When you turned your head in her direction, she was waving her hand for you to stand beside her but your husband was not in view.

“What are you doing... you have to be in the family photo, you dumb-dumb,” he was actually next to you now, sliding his grasp down your arm and stopping at your wrist, he practically led the way. “But I-I’m not,” you stammered needlessly.

“Like it or not, you’re a Kim now,” your father in law beamed at you. You let out a breathe you didn’t know you were holding in. The photographer aims for the shoot but he stopped momentarily. He pushed a step for you to stand on. And Namjoon covers his mouth, snickering, earning disapproval from the rest of the family. You pouted and looked down your feet.

“Why are you so mean…” “Don’t tease her like that!” “Namjoon, be nice.”

“Can I have everyone looking at the camera please?” The photographer commands and that’s when Namjoon whispered to your ear while his eyes was glued to the camera, “Thank you for marrying me...” his forefinger hook themselves around your pinky, “Mrs. Kim.”

Sweet. A moment there. Where everyone else disappears.

“Cheesy...” you rolled your eyes. “Fun sized” he teased you.

“3...! 2...! 1...!” The camera flashes.

As guests are allowed inside the hall, you waddled to the entrance. On your way, you noticed something strange. All eyes were following Namjoon, you had to swivel to the side shyly, or so you thought, until you realise that he wasn’t there. You spun around in dire panic. Suddenly a pair of large hand settled themselves on the curve of your bum, startling you until you see the face of those brazen hands. The equally brazen smile decorated his face.

“You notice they’re staring at you?” He gushes with a wide grin, standing tall and proud next to you. A hand resting above your hip line, as it should, he controls his pace to match yours. He glances at you, warm and affectionately.

“And Gyeongmin?” You asked. “Taking pictures with her friends,” he passed. “She should. She really should. There won’t be time to meet up again,” you tattered, reminded of your own graduation in the past.

Namjoon was deeply in debt to you. He never enrolled college and because of that, had never worn a graduation robe like you did. He wouldn’t know how to put the robes on for others so he was grateful that you were there. You’ve worn them before and knew what was iffy about wearing them. Gyeongmin isn’t missing out on anything. Despite having a brother who never went to university.

Namjoon holds the phone up for a selfie with you looking at him. He gives his legendary ‘v-sign’ pose, looking absolutely dashing in his suit. Smelling expensive too.

There’s a poke on your hip and it made you turn around, but before you could make sense of who it was, Gyeongmin wraps you in her arms, resting her chin on your shoulder.

“Thank you so-so-so much for being here... for fixing my robe, for making sure everything goes well, for marrying my idiot brother,” she hums, closing her eyes and gave you a tiny squeeze. Namjoon looked very offended, squinting his eyes at her. His mother came to rub your back as well, patting Namjoon’s arm right after.

“You lucky punk,” his father delivered a hearty slap on the back on his shoulder. “Dad, my shoulder will get dislocated...” Namjoon whimpers. “Okay, it’s Gyeongmin’s day, let’s not overshadow her, yes?” You warned Namjoon with the eyes.

“Why am I getting bullied today?” Namjoon whined. “Because you look too handsome and is making people staring at us...” you pushed your sides at him. “I didn’t know being handsome was a crime... Seokjin hyung lived just fine...” Namjoon had to be taken away because he doesn’t stop talking. With another selfie with the family, it signifies how the day of celebration comes to an end.

All that’s left to do is to wait for Gyeongmin to take the scroll. She received a distinction award and delivered a speech because she held the Chancellor's Award for Best Student of The Year. In the speech, she thanked her family members, her professors, and friends for being a fuel that drives her forward. And towards the end, she mentioned her famous older brother, Kim Namjoon as a role model and a figure to stand behind—his morality, determination and poise.

“Despite the difficult path that you created on your own, you remain strong and agile,” Gyeongmin adds, “Relentlessly, and in the peak of your youth, you’ve disregarded your teenage years, for the greater good, your ideas and thrived... you are not just my inspiration, but to everyone else who knew what you fought for.”

Namjoon’s eyes glimmer in pride. He held your hand tightly although his face on the screen doesn’t show how nervous he was. He filled the gaps of your fingers with his own, squeezing them tight before the camera pans away and he brought your knuckle to his lips.

“You want tissue?” You teased him, pressing your forehead on his shoulder. “I will need no such thing,” he sniffed, “But maybe just one.”

Pause. “You helped her write that, didn’t you?” “I most certainly did not,” you chuckled. “You so did,” he shot, “Who in their right mind writes ‘but to everyone who knew what you fought for’ if it wasn’t you?” “I suggested,” you reclined, protesting, “But I didn’t think she was gonna put it in!” You shrug your shoulder, giggling with a smile all the way to your ear.

Namjoon was seated on your left, and he stretched his arm all the way for his hand to cap on your right knee and slid up your thigh. “Don’t put it there,” you gritted your teeth, and removed his hand at once.

“Why not.” “Just don’t.” “What happens if I do?” “Namjoon, I swear...”

All he had to do was touch your thigh. And you’re a whirlwind of a mess within.

“You want to go home, straight?” He quirked an eyebrow at you. One look at you, and he squawks, “Let’s go home, I know you want to go home... I got you.”

“Shut up, oh my god,” you bewildered.

You pushed him till he stumbles to the side, waddling out the hallway outside the hall with your sleazy husband.

“What the fuck is wrong with you...” you contorted your face in feigned disgust. You kick your heels away, muttering, “I can’t deal with heels anymore. That’s the limit.”

Namjoon picks those heels up as you walk away barefooted as if you didn’t leave anything behind.

“Good thing is that we don’t need heels for what we’re about to do…” “And what is that…” “You know what it is.”

copyright © 2019 namjoonchronicles do not repost, or I’ll sue you 

[phoenix-downer]

Temptation

For SoKai Week Day 5 - Light and Darkness OR Nightmares and Daydreams (kind of a mix of both). 

Alright, so this is a continuation of the fic I posted yesterday, and it is still not finished, whoops. This story is really starting to become its own thing. My guess is that there will be three parts total, and this is 2/3. It’ll get posted to FFN and AO3 when the whole thing is done. Enjoy!

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A single raindrop fell on Sora’s hand, and he sighed deeply. Another reminder that Kairi was sad. And worse, he was powerless to fix it.

Wandering around late at night in a place as big and mysterious as the afterlife was probably not the best idea, but it sure beat sitting down and thinking too hard. All the neon lights and dark alleys were a good way to get his mind off everything.

Except when Kairi dreamed. He found his heart drawn to hers, and her flickering image haunted him when she slept. This time it had found him in a side alley as he’d searched for some clue as to how to get out of here.

He was about to tuck her lucky charm back in his pocket when he realized it was gone. Heart pounding, he reached into his pocket. Not there. He checked his other pocket. Not there, either. It wasn’t in any of his pockets, and it wasn’t on the ground. It wasn’t anywhere at all.

He raked his hand through his hair as his stomach did flips. How could he have lost it? What would he tell her when—

“Looking for something?” came a mysterious voice.

Sora whipped around, his Keyblade appearing in his hand by instinct. In the alley behind him was a figure wearing a black coat. Eyes narrowing, Sora moved into a battle stance. He’d had enough black coats to last him a lifetime.

“Woah woah woah!” the man said as he held his arms out. “Put that thing away!”

“And why should I?” Sora asked, raising his eyebrow. “Who are you?”

The man tossed something in the air, and with a gasp, Sora realized it was Kairi’s charm.

“Hey, give that back to me!” he said as he reached for it. The stranger evaded him easily, holding the charm just out of his reach. He shook his head and made an annoying clicking noise with his tongue as Sora kept trying to grab it without any luck.

“Where are your manners, man? Didn’t your mom ever teach you how to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you?’”

Sora glared at him. “You stole something from me and now you want me to say ‘please’ to get it back? No way. That’s mine, now hand it over.”

The man looked at it more closely. “It’s from your girlfriend, isn’t it? Better get it back soon, or you’ll be in hot water.”

“G-Girlfriend? Kairi’s not my girlfriend, she’s my—”

Sora hesitated. Was she his girlfriend? Yeah, they’d shared the paopu fruit, but was that the same as dating? The exact label to slap on their relationship had seemed kinda unimportant compared to all the other stuff they’d had to deal with lately, so he hadn’t really thought about it that much.

“Your what, Sora?” the man said.

“I—” Sora’s eyes narrowed. “Hang on, how do you know my name?”

The man chuckled. “I know a lot about you. I’ve been watching you for a long time now.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better because…”

The man put his hand on Sora’s shoulder. “Seriously, man, you need to chill out,” he drawled. “You’re all tense, all wound up.”

“You would be too if some random stranger had just taken something important from you!”

The man gasped and lifted a gloved man to his mouth. “Oh how rude of me! I never introduced myself.” He offered his hand. “Call me Ken.”

Sora just looked at the man’s offered hand. “Ken? Really?”

He waved his hands and laughed, a loud guffaw that echoed off the walls of the alley. “Nah, I’m just messing with you.���

The laughing just kept going on and on, and Sora shifted uncomfortably. Seriously, what was with this guy?

The man cleared his throat and pulled himself up to his full height. “Alright, enough of the jokes. You at least deserve to know my name. I am… the Master of Masters.”

Sora raised his eyebrow. “The Master of Masters? Yeah right. That sounds even faker than Ken.”

“Believe it or not, Sora, that is my real name. Well, my real name now. It’s not like my parents named me that! Can you imagine, naming your kid something like that? You’d have to have an ego bigger than Kingdom Hearts!”

Sora’s heart caught in his throat. “Kingdom Hearts? You know what that is?”

“Sure do.” The Master of Masters looked around. “You know what else I know?” he said, beckoning for Sora to come closer.

“What?”

The Master of Masters beckoned again, more impatiently this time, and Sora sighed and took a step closer.

He cupped his hand over his mouth and whispered, “A way for you to get back to your girlfriend.”

Sora’s heart pounded in his chest as the Master of Masters placed the lucky charm in his hand.

“No snap decisions,” The Master of Masters said as Sora tucked the charm into his pocket. “I’ll give you some time to mull it over. If you want to see your girlfriend again, who is no doubt a lovely individual, seeing as how you changed places with her so she’d end up up there,” he said, pointing up, “and you’d end up down here,” he continued, pointing down, “you can meet me again here tomorrow night.”

Sora considered this, but before he could answer, the Master of Masters continued.

“Buuuuut, if you don’t care about her and want her to die of old age, alone, never married because she never got over her jerk of a boyfriend who abandoned her and kept stringing her along with the hope that he’d come back someday—”

“Enough!” Sora snapped as he pushed the Master of Masters against the wall and pinned him there.

The Master of Masters let out a low whistle. “Ho ho ho, look at that! Have you got a lot of darkness inside of you!”

Sora froze and looked at his arm. Darkness was wafting off of it. His eyes snapped back to the Master of Masters. “You wanted that to happen, didn’t you? You goaded me into it!”

“Just testing your control. You’re gonna need it if you want to get home.”

Sora opened his mouth to answer, but the Master of Masters put a finger over his lip. “Shhhh, you don’t have to give me your answer just yet. Think it over first.”

With that he was gone. How he’d disappeared so quickly, Sora had no idea. Sighing and reaching into his pocket, he pulled out Kairi’s charm to look at it again.

“What if this really is the only way to get back to her?”

He was running out of options. He hadn’t had any luck with anything he’d tried so far. Hadn’t found any clues that hadn’t fizzled out. Playing the game hadn’t worked. He was still stuck down here with nothing to show for it.

In his mind he could picture Kairi’s face, see her crying because of him. Knowing he was the one making her sad was too much to bear. No more tears. He’d had enough of that. He wanted to see her smile again, more than anything. And the only way to do that was to make it home like he’d promised.

“Hey, Master of Masters?”

Just like that, the Master of Masters was back, casually lounging against the wall. “Yeah?”

“We don’t have to wait till tomorrow. Tell me how to get home. Please.”

He patted Sora on the head. “Atta boy. I’ll have you home in no time.”

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The next time Kairi dreamed, Sora was the one who met her at the shore.

“Sora?” she asked as she waded into the shallow surf, the water and sand tickling her toes.

His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled as he lifted his hand to the barrier. “Kairi.”

A lump built in her throat as she lifted her hand to meet his. The barrier was still between them, but hearing his voice for the first time since he’d— since he’d—

She swallowed the lump and smiled. “You can talk.”

His face lit up. “Wait, you can hear me now?”

“Yes,” she said, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Yes, I can.”

“Kairi,” he said again, his smile getting bigger. “Kairi. Kairi.”

She giggled, her face flushing. “Is my name the only thing you know how to say anymore?”

“Gosh, it’s the only thing I want to say.” He rested his forehead against the barrier and sighed, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before opening again. “You don’t know how badly I wanted to talk to you.”

She ducked her head and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I wanted to talk to you, too.”

He opened his mouth to reply, then glanced down at his hands. They were already fading again.

He looked up, an anguished expression in her eyes, and the lump returned to her throat. “Sora—” she said, reaching for him only to feel the barrier again.

He put his hand against the barrier near hers. “I won’t give up, Kairi. Whatever it takes to reach you, I’ll do it.”

She gave him a sad smile. “I know you will. And you know what else I know?”

“What?”

“I’m looking for you too. All of us are.”

He smiled at that. “I know. See you soon, Kairi.”

“See you soon.”

With that, he was gone, leaving Kairi alone again.

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“I did it! Kairi can hear me now!” Sora said as soon as he ducked into their usual alley.

The Master of Masters was waiting for him there as always, lounging on a bunch of crates. At Sora’s words he straightened and clapped. “Well done, Sora! Anything else to report?”

Sora hesitated. “Well, the barrier’s still there, but… Kairi hearing my voice is progress, right?”

“Sure is. But you have to figure out how to get that barrier down, or you won’t be able to cross back over into the Realm of Light.”

Sora sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I’m stumped. How am I supposed to do it? The Power of Waking doesn’t work. Kairi’s light magic doesn’t work, either, and she’s a Princess of Heart. I don’t know what to do.”

“Soooo, what you’re telling me is, you’ve tried light,” the Master of Masters said, holding up his right hand, “and you’ve tried the power that killed you in the first place…” he added, holding up his left. He brought his hands together in the middle and looked at Sora. “Now... why haven’t you tried darkness yet?”

Sora jerked back. “Darkness? I can’t use the darkness.”

The Master of Masters shrugged. “Why not? You used it all the time when you were alive.”

“Yeah, but… only when I was really angry. It sort of took over and I lost control when that happened. I’m not like Riku, I can’t use it safely.”

“Listen to yourself. ‘I’m not like Riku, I can’t do what he can,’” the Master of Masters said, imitating Sora’s voice.

Sora raised his eyebrow, and the Master of Masters sighed dramatically. “Sora, come on. You saved all of your friends. You brought your girlfriend back from the dead. You’ve saved the worlds over and over again. If you’re not a hero, then I don’t know who is.”

Sora frowned. “Sure, I guess, but that doesn’t mean I’m like Riku.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re a Master like Riku, you mean,” the Master of Masters corrected, holding one finger in the air. “Man, Sora, don’t you ever think it’s all a little… unfair?”

Sora tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

The Master of Masters just shook his head. “Sheesh, they’ve got you brainwashed. You sacrificed everything for your friends, and this is your reward? Death?”

“My… reward?”

Xigbar’s words echoed through his mind. Had he known all along that death lay ahead of Sora? Had he been trying to warn him?

“I’m telling you, Sora, a guy like you is a hero,” the Master of Masters said, really emphasizing the last words. “You deserve to be a Master.”

“Maybe, but I failed my Mark of Mastery.”

“Yeah, you failed because you didn’t have control of your darkness. But this is the perfect chance to learn how! I can help you.”

Sora crossed his arms. “I don’t see how. I failed because my heart almost fell to darkness. I can’t risk that happening again. I’ve gotta stay in control.”

“Don’t see how?” The Master of Masters sighed again, this time sounding irritated. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re kinda dense, sorry.”

Sora bristled at that, but the Master of Masters just held his hand up. “Think about Riku for a second. He got his Mark of Mastery because he got control of his darkness. He didn’t run from it. He didn’t lock it up. He channeled it into something better and turned it into light. Who says you can’t do the same?”

“I mean… I guess I could try, I just don’t see how this will help me get out of here.”

He just didn’t see the connection between using darkness and getting home. He’d never been able to traverse realms by using darkness, only light.

The Master of Masters patted the spot next to him, and Sora sat down. The crates were kinda soggy from the rain, but it couldn’t really be helped.

“Sora, think back to your final battle with Xehanort. What happened when he stole your light?”

“I… I turned into a Heartless. Well, kinda. I wasn’t a Heartless exactly. I was more like… a human Heartless.”

“And how did you fight in that form?”

“With my Keyblade.”

“And before that?”

Sora scratched his cheek. “Well… I couldn’t fight with my Keyblade at first in that form. I was more like a wild animal, just scratching and clawing and kicking at stuff. It wasn’t until later that I could use my Keyblade.”

The Master of Masters slapped him on the back. “See? You’re improving. You’re evolving. You’re getting better control. First you fought like a monster, and now you’re fighting like a man. What do you think the next step will be?”

“A hero?”

“Wrong!” the Master of Masters said, making a loud buzzing noise afterwards like they were on a game show and he was the host. “The next step is…” he paused and stretched his hands out. “...A god.”

Sora laughed at that. “A god? Really?”

The Master of Masters nodded, and Sora gave him a weird look. “You can’t be serious. My friend Hercules is a god. I’m just an ordinary guy. There’s nothing special about me. Without my friends, I’m nothing.”

“Wrong again! You are the most powerful Keyblade Wielder of your age. Destined for greatness.”

“I… I am?”

“Yup.” The Master of Masters rested his chin on his hands. “Tell me, Sora, have you ever heard a little voice speak to you?”

Sora frowned. “Like… my conscience?”

The Master of Masters waved his hands. “No no no, during your awakenings.”

“Oh.” Sora thought long and hard. The memories from his awakenings were always sort of blurry, but…

Wait. There was a voice. There was always a voice. It helped him and guided him. Reassured him and eased his fears.

“I guess I have, actually,” he said.

“And what did it say?”

Sora thought again. “That I’ll... open some kind of door?”

“A-ha! There it is!” The Master of Masters jumped to his feet and let out a whoop like it was Christmas morning. It echoed throughout the alley, and it was a wonder no one else found them with all the racket he was making.

Sora sighed and rested his face on his hands. “I don’t get it.”

The Master of Masters whirled around. “You don’t get it? Haven’t you heard all the legends about the person who will open the door?”

“No? Should I have?”

“Sora, the one who will open the door will be reborn as something greater than human! He, or she, will have the power to remake the worlds!”

“Remake the worlds?”

With that kind of power, Sora could get home, easily. No, better than that. He could… he could make it so that the Heartless all became people again. The Nobodies could all get their hearts back, too. And then… with the threat gone, he could finally go home. He could be with Kairi again. With Riku. With all his friends.

“You really think… I’m the one who will open the door?”

“I do. But to get to the door, you have to be in control of your darkness. You have to be the best version of you.”

The Master of Masters gently poked his heart, and Sora thought. Thought about all the people he could help if he got power like that. Thought about seeing all his friends again. Thought about making Kairi smile.

“Show me how, then. Show me how to control my darkness.”

“Gladly.”

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Thanks for reading! I’m hoping to have Part 3 done soon but we’ll see. This story is inspired by several people - @teganberry, for coming up with the original headcanon, @chachacharlieco, for building on said headcanon and drawing art for it, @violetstar-writes for also adding to the idea, and @rapis-razuri for letting me bounce ideas off of her. @angel-with-a-pipette also gave me some good advice. A big thanks to all of you!

I have to say, writing the Master of Masters is a lot of fun. I don’t know why I didn’t do it before now. He surprises me sometimes even with what he does. Never a dull moment with that guy.

The plot bunnies have been multiplying rapidly lately it would seem... back to work for me!