#also i definitely stole the whole name written across his heart thing from one of my fave bollywood somgs

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow: day 2

Day 02/25 Days of Christmas: Character A’s best friend rigs the Secret Santa because they know Character A has a crush on Character B,, percabeth

Percy is so distracted that he almost doesn’t catch someone whispering his name across the room. When he realizes that it’s Leo calling his name, he wishes he hadn’t noticed because he knows that whatever is about to come out of that kid’s mouth is not going to be good.

“What?” Percy hisses when Leo doesn’t stop the rather obvious hissing.

Leo stands up from the table along the wall so that he can make his way across the dorm’s common room and plop down directly next to Percy. “So.”

When he says nothing else, Percy prompts, “So…?”

“You’re in love with Annabeth, yeah?”

“I’m sorry — what?”

“You, like, want to marry her.”

Percy swallows, eyes darting towards the girl that was only sitting a few feet away. “I don’t.”

“Yeah, okay big boy. Suuure you don’t want to marry her.”

“Maybe shut up, yeah?”

Leo gives his signature impish grin. “I’m just speaking the truth.”

“Yeah, well, your truth sucks.”

Percy wishes he could say that Leo was lying through his teeth like he usually does, but this one’s the painful reality. He was in love with his best friend, and Leo was shouting it out to the world, and also to Annabeth who was practically right next to him. For once, he’s glad that she can’t ever listen to people talking while she’s studying.

“Here’s the thing.” Leo pats Percy’s hand like he was consoling a child. “Secret Santa.”

“What about it?”

“You’re going to get Annabeth.”

The way that Leo whispers it is only mildly comical. It sounds more like he’s praying than telling, in Percy’s opinion. “What, are you manifesting it or something?”

“No. I’m rigging Secret Santa.”

“What!? No!”

“You want to date her, don’t you?” When Percy opens his mouth to disagree, Leo continues, “The answer is yes, you do. And to be honest, I’m sick of watching you two flounder around each other, so this is more for my benefit than yours.”

“You’re an ass.”

“You won’t be saying that when you get married, buddy.”

Percy gives him a scathing look as he pointedly turns his head away from Leo. Leo mutters something under his breath that Percy does not bother to decipher because it would probably make Percy want to stab someone in the name of Christmas spirit. He’s already mortified enough that everyone seems to know about his infatuation with his best friend, probably including Annabeth too, so he does not need Leo to rub it in even more.

“Percy,” Leo grunts as his fingers wrap around Percy’s neck and pull in an attempt to get Percy to face him again. He ends up choking for air as Leo cuts off his trachea, and Leo clambers to grab a fistful of hair instead. Percy lets out a strangled shriek as he is pulled off the couch sharply by his head.

“Stop it!”

“Listen to me,” Leo says, peering over the edge at where Percy is now laying on the floor, rubbing the back of his head. Percy ends up staying on the floor so that he’s out of Leo’s reach. “When we get together for Secret Santa, you’re going to pick first. Pick the one that has green marker on the outside.”

“And break the rules of the game?”

“It’s still a secret to her. Do it.”

Percy doesn’t plan on doing it. The few hours waiting for the rest of their friends to meet up are spent with him going back and forth in his own mind as to why he should definitely not pick her name. It defeats the whole purpose of the game, but at the same time, she won’t know that he purposely picked her. But on the other hand, if he somehow manages to win her over with whatever gift he picks out, he’ll have to admit it at some point. With his luck, they’d be married about to have a baby when he’s like oh yeah, by the way, I purposely got you because I’m a cheater, and she’ll be so offended, all oh yeah, by the way, I’m also a cheater and it’s not your baby, and his heart will shatter into a million pieces.

So perhaps he’s being a little dramatic, but he likes to think his concerns are at least somewhat legitimate. Like, maybe 43 percent valid.

In the end though, Percy catches sight of that green mark on a slip of paper, and his hand grabs it with a mind of its own. As he uncurls the paper, he traces over her writing with his finger. He swears he could pick her writing out of a line up, with the unique curves of her penmanship.

Percy pretends not to notice Leo’s mocking grin from across the circle, instead turning his attention towards Annabeth, watching her pick out his name.

For the next few days, Percy doesn’t think he’s ever been more stressed. It’s as though Percy doesn’t even know Annabeth anymore because he’s suddenly at a blank for anything that she likes. He can’t even remember her favorite color or lifelong dreams because he’s just that nervous. He’s beginning to wish that he hadn’t picked that green slip, but it was too late to go back now. He had no choice but to make an embarrassment of himself when he shows up with something awful, or nothing at all.

It comes unexpectedly when he finds the present. It’s a simple ring with a silver band and an emerald sitting in the center, and it practically has her name written on it. He imagines what it would look like sitting on her finger, the green gem gleaming in the sunlight, reminiscent of his eyes.

It’s not until after he makes the purchase that it dawns on him how much of a boyfriend thing it is to buy someone a ring. And, of course, Annabeth would say something about it being an engagement ring because that’s just what she does, and he would die on the spot. He loves her so much, but she doesn’t know that, and a ring would no doubt reveal at least some of what he was feeling if she somehow didn’t already know.

He dreads the day of Secret Santa.

All too soon, he is sitting in a circle with his friends, everyone holding a present in their hands. When it comes time to exchange the gifts, Percy hesitantly hands his to Annabeth. He can sense the shock on her face, and a warm sense fills him as he also senses the underlying excitement in her face.

“You got me something expensive, right?” she asks playfully.

“You wish,” is what he replies, but his painfully empty wallet disagrees.

Annabeth smiles at him, a cute dimple appearing on her cheek, as she pulls the tissue paper out of the present bag. She makes an offhanded comment about the Rudolph gift bag before she pulls out everything at once. He hadn’t wanted to just get her one thing, so he stuffed it with a few of her favorite snacks. Leo had called him a simp when he found out.

“Hurry up,” he chides. “Get off my ass, Percy,” she says, but she picks up the small box he knows contains the ring. The rest of the room seems to drown out as she flicks open the top. He catches sight of the ring in the box, and now he really wants to pass out, or throw up, or both.

Annabeth’s face is unreadable as she thumbs the gem. Then, her face breaks into a soft grin and he feels marginally better. “A ring?”

“I saw it and thought of you. I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was paid for.” He bites his lip. “I can return it if you don’t want it. I know it might seem weird, but I just really wanted—“

Annabeth uses her socked foot to nudge his knee and get him to stop talking. “I really love it, Percy.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do,” she says, rolling her eyes. She slides it onto her left ring finger, holding it up for her own inspection. “It’s like an engagement ring!”

Percy cracks a grin. “I knew you’d say that.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” she adds. “I’d love being engaged to you. You’d be the world’s best husband.”

Percy’s heart nearly stops.

“God, I love you,” she groans, crawling over the floor so that she can collapse in his lap like a wet noodle. It’s not unusual for them. They’ve always been the two to cuddle platonically during a movie, or just take a nap together, but nothing more. Right now though, Percy feels like this is a lot more than usual as he wraps his arms around her in a hug.

Annabeth lifts herself back up, and he nearly whines at the loss of contact. That is quickly taken off his mind though as she turns around with a present in hand.

“Your turn,” she says, and Percy’s jaw drops open.

“You got me!” he exclaims excitedly, reaching for the present.

“I know,” she says teasingly. “I nearly gagged when I picked your name.”

“Nice to see that you care.”

She patters her feet against the floor excitedly. “Open it!”

And he does. The bag is slightly bigger than hers was, so he struggles a bit to get the item out. When he does though, he feels like crying. He’s met with a thin silver frame, but inside of it is what really gets him. It’s a painting of the two of them — a picture he thought he lost a long time ago. Her arms are thrown over his shoulders from behind as she gives him a kiss on the cheek, and Percy is staring directly into the camera, the biggest smile on his face. He remembers taking that years ago on a stranger’s polaroid. He carried it around forever, everywhere he went, until it just seemed to disappear one day. He was so distraught because it was the only copy, but he’s forgotten about it until now, and—

Percy’s eyes begin to brim with tears. “Where did you get this?”

“I took a picture of it,” she says gently. “There was someone on etsy that was painting pictures, and so I thought you’d like to have this one.”

“God.” Percy’s eyes trace over the image, trying to burn the picture into his mind, every single curve and color. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

“It’s no ring, but…”

“Annabeth,” Percy says, stopping her. “I love it.”

“And I love you.”

Something burns in Percy’s stomach. There’s something in the way that she’s looking at him that makes his breath stutter. It’s too soft and she’s too close to him. He wants so badly to pull her in close, to hug her and kiss her because she’s wearing his ring and a sweater she stole from his closet and she’s his best friend that he’s in love with.

Percy’s face is suddenly in front of Annabeth’s, and he can feel her breaths hitting his face. He doesn’t know if people are watching, but he can’t be bothered enough to check.

“Thank you,” Percy whispers. “It means a lot.”

“I’m sure it did.”

There’s a comfortable pause where Percy just looks at her, counts her eyelashes, appreciates the perfect curve of her nose before she says, “Are you going to kiss me or just stare?”

Percy smiles and takes that as an invitation. He wraps his fingers around the curve of her back, pulling her onto his lap and bringing her lips to his. It feels like he’s kissing his best friend, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s not a perfect kiss because she’s tangled awkwardly in his limbs, both of them sprawled on the floor, and there are people screaming around them, but it’s still everything he’s ever thought it would be.

When he finally pulls away, she’s looking at him with something akin to love. He smiles, and so does he, and Leo makes a snarky comment, and he never wants to leave this moment.

“So,” she says, breathless and happy, “I have something to tell you.”

“You love me?”

“That, and I may have purposely picked your name.”

Percy throw his head back and laughs, and he thinks that he’s met his soulmate.

[ibelongtowrath]

It’s Always Been You - Mammon x Reader

I decided to take a break from writing solely smut, and wrote some angsty fluff and some light smut for my 2nd favorite boy Mammon.

If you've read my other stories you know I've mostly written super-detailed, super-explicit smut, so this is quite new for me haha. I thought of this story in the shower and banged it out in a few hours. I couldn't NOT write any smut in, but it's definitely minimal.

I had fun writing this one, I hope you enjoy!

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

It’s you. It’s always been you.

Sure, Mammon’s been around for a while and had his fun. He’d dated a couple witches here and there, but never wanted anything serious. He was too busy enjoying himself, spending his little heart out with his precious black credit card, not caring about much else besides himself and the things he wants. He is the Avatar of Greed, after all.

It’s all he cared about...until you came along, that is. You came to the Devildom, and his view of the world did a complete 180.

Curse you, he thinks. 

Curse you and your ethereal, otherworldly beauty that makes it hard not to stare at you. Curse your soft, full lips that make him want to wrap you in his arms and kiss you until your lips swell. Curse your perfect smile, the one that lights up your entire face, and the way your eyes crease a little bit on the outside when you do. Curse the way you pull your hair into a ponytail, showing off your pretty little neck that he wants to pepper with loving kisses. Curse the gorgeous curves on that beautiful body of yours, and the way you tug your skirt down and wrap your arms around yourself when you’re self-conscious.

Curse it all...because you’re leaving in a month, and he hasn’t been able to tell you any of these things.

It’s not like he’s never had any opportunity to - he sees you every day, after all.

But he also sees the way you talk to the other demons. He hears the cute lilt in your voice you say “good morning!” to everyone at the breakfast table, your skirt lifting as you bound into the room. He sees the way you blush profusely when they tease you, like when you left your journal on the table and Asmo began reading a passage out loud. 

He sees you hug Levi and celebrate when you’re playing a game together and win a hard boss battle; he watches you and Satan smile at each other when discussing the new novel that was just published by your favorite Devildom author.

He sees and hears these things, and it makes his blood boil with envy. Mammon is the Avatar of Greed. He shouldn’t care about anyone except himself - hell, it’s practically written into his DNA.

But it’s you. It’s always been you. He was the first demon you made a pact with when you first arrived in the Devildom and to RAD, much to his chagrin.

You annoyed him at first, of course. Here you were, a measly human, yet everyone made a fuss over you. You broke rules, you spoke your mind, and almost got yourself killed a few times. Somehow, all these things helped you work your way into Mammon’s greedy, ice-cold heart.

He’s labeled as a tsundere by Levi, the resident otaku, and he sees himself in every aspect of the definition. All his brothers can see how he feels about you, in spite of the many ways he tries to hide it.

And yet...you’ve always treated him equally. He’s insulted you, been an arrogant fool, and yet you’ve still welcomed him with open arms. Another thing he needs to add to his list of things to curse you for.

Lucifer announced that you have a month left at dinner, and Mammon felt a confusing wave of emotions wash over him in that moment. There was anger, there was sadness...there was a whole torrent of things he wasn’t used to feeling.

He needs to tell you how he feels, or he’ll live the rest of his thousands of years he has left in total regret. 

Even if it’s unrequited, he doesn’t care - at least he wouldn’t have to live with the anguish of never knowing.

Later that same night, Mammon lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling. His room is filled with material things - a pool table, high-tech stereo speakers and a projector, even a car on the upper level. He owns all these things, but he can’t fill the empty hole in his heart - a hole that will surely get bigger once you leave for good.

His D.D.D. charges on his nightstand, and he reaches over to grab it. It’s 1:15 in the morning. His fingers hover over your name in his contacts as he debates whether or not to send you the message. He remembers you agreeing to help Levi in a tournament later this week, and he hopes you’re still awake practicing.

Mammon’s fingers move faster than his brain can catch up with, and he hits send before he has a chance to hesitate.

Hey Y/N - can you stop by my place for a sec?

He waits in silent agony for a few minutes until his D.D.D. pings. Your name flashes across the screen, and his heart jumps in anticipation.

Yeah. I’ll be there in a few. Just finishing up this match. 

Your reply sends the torrent of emotions flooding through his body again. Mammon lifts himself up out of bed and walks over to his couch, waiting for your knock on the door.

It comes about ten minutes later, causing Mammon to leap up from the couch. He coughs and composes himself. He waits a few seconds before opening it, desperately trying to make it seem like he wasn’t sitting around and waiting for you to come.

You step into the room. Your eyes are as bright as ever, and your hair is pulled into a loose side ponytail. You flash a smile at him, that gorgeous smile with those pretty lips, clasping your hands together at the front.

“So...what’s up?” you ask Mammon.

He opens his mouth to speak, but suddenly, the words won’t come out. He watches you as you tilt your head, looking confused.

Before you can even react, Mammon wraps his arms around you, pressing you into his chest in a tight embrace. Your eyes widen in surprise. Your arms are pinned to your sides, and you’re unable to move. But...you don’t mind.

What’s going on? you think to yourself, more puzzled than annoyed.

“H-hey, Mammon,” you say, then cough, trying to cover up the awkward stammer. “I can’t hug you back if my arms are stuck down here.”

Mammon stiffens, then loosens his grip on you, finally allowing you to move your arms. You bring them up and wrap them around his back, pressing your head into his chest. He takes one hand off your back, lifting it to stroke your hair. You close your eyes, savoring the comforting motion.

The two of you stand there, locked in an intimate embrace for what seems like several minutes. Mammon loses track of time, never wanting to let you go, his head resting against your soft hair. 

After some time, you step back and he lets you; he looks down at the ground while he raises an arm up to scratch the top of his head, a crimson blush spreading across his cheeks.

“I, uh, I-I...” Mammon falters, as though his brain is short-circuiting and he forgot how to speak.

“Y/N,” he says. He speaks your name so tenderly, so full of emotion you can feel your own cheeks beginning to sport their own lighter shade of crimson.

“Y/N,” he says your name again. “I-I...I know you’re leavin’ soon. A month. And I...I know ya probably don’t feel the same way about me. I’m sure one of my brothers stole your heart. Probably Lucifer or Satan, those charmin’ bastards. But anyways...I...I really care about you, and I-”

“Mammon.”

Your voice cuts through his stammered speech, and Mammon pauses, his heart clenching in anticipation of your next words.

“It’s you, Mammon,” you whisper, the slightly higher pitch of your voice betraying your calm demeanor. “It’s always been you.”

Mammon gapes at you, unsure if he heard you correctly. He’s praying he heard you right, heard you say those beautiful words he’s been dreaming of you telling him every night.

“You’re the first demon I made a pact with, remember? You’ve always told everyone how you’re my first man...well, you are.”

He watches the adorable way you bite your lip and blush, wanting nothing more than to reach his hand out and stroke the soft skin of your adorable cheeks.

He wants to kiss you so badly.

“W-well, ya couldn’t have told me that sooner?!” Mammon exclaims.

“A-ahem,” you cough again in a poor attempt to cover up your embarrassment. “It takes two to tango, doesn’t it?”

He laughs and, unsure of what to say next, decides to let impulse take over. He gathers you into his arms again, looking at you tilt your head up at him as he lifts his hand, stroking your cheek gently. 

The gesture is so tender, so soft, you feel your own cascade of emotions swelling up inside of you. You reach up and grasp his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. Mammon cups your face, then leans down to meet his lips with yours.

At the touch of his lips on yours, you experience something you’ve never felt before. The feelings tormenting your heart finally subside. As Mammon leans in further, deepening the kiss, you start to feel a sense of...

Home.

So many times, you’ve heard others talk about love. They say when you’re in love, you feel butterflies in your stomach. They flit around, gripping your heart with a nervous, jumpy feeling every time you see your lover. They tell you that you’ll stumble around, falling head over heels.

No. That’s not what love is.

This love you feel for Mammon is nothing like butterflies fluttering around your body, wreaking havoc on your heart. You feel comfortable, at ease. You feel like where you’re meant to be is wrapped in his arms.

You feel like you’re home.

At the touch of your lips on his, Mammon feels his icy heart thawing. Suddenly, he no longer wants things only for himself. No, he wants to give you his all - he wants to give you the world. Anything you want, he will give you, be it material or a piece of himself. He’ll give you his entire heart.

Mammon is unsure of how long the two of you stand there, lips and arms locked in a tight embrace. All he knows is that he never wants it to end.

You break off the kiss after a while, taking a moment to breathe. You inhale, then giggle, looking into Mammon’s sapphire blue gaze, flecked with pools of gold.

“I’m yours, Mammon. Yours and only yours,” you declare, staring into his gaze.

You’re his. 

He kisses you again, but this time it feels hungrier, more fervent. You kiss him back, igniting a fire deep within him. He feels your hips grinding against his leg, and a small moan escapes from his lips into your mouth. He meets his tongue with yours as you roll them together.

Mammon’s hands dance up the curves of your hips and waist, and you hook a leg around him, pressing yourself closer against him. He reaches down and cups your ass, then suddenly lifts you off the ground, carrying you towards his bed. You laugh, the lovely lilt of your voice like a calming wind chime ringing throughout the room.

Mammon turns, sitting on the bed so that you’re in his lap, your legs on either side of him. He feels you pull at his shirt, urging him to remove it. He obliges, his defined abdominal muscles on full display. You run your hands up and down the length of his long torso, delighting in the way the ridges of his abs move your fingers up and down as you do so. His breath hitches.

Leaning back, Mammon watches you as you remove your own shirt, the sight of your naked breasts bouncing free in the dimmed light of his room drawing out another sharp breath from him. His hands reach up, cupping and massaging them, then rolling the sensitive bud of your nipples between his fingers. He leans down, tonguing your nipple and eliciting a moan as you wrap your fingers in his snow-white hair.

He tugs at your shorts, starting to pull them down. You stand in front of him and nod, giving him your full permission to remove them. Mammon looks at you then, the beautiful sight of you, and keeps his eyes trained on yours as he pulls your shorts and panties down your legs, discarding them on his floor.

You climb back on top of him, tongues meeting in a fevered dance as you grind your hips against his, feeling the hardened bulge at the front of his sweatpants. He reaches a hand between your sensitive folds, feeling how wet you are with your passionate arousal.

Mammon feels your moan against his lips, and the way your hands reach down, pulling his pants and boxers down until his dick springs out. He angles you forward with his hands, his length teasing at your entrance. You roll your hips over him, the wet heat of your walls clenching around him as you move up and down in a steady cadence.

Your bodies dance together as one, paired with fevered, passionate kisses as the two of you make love in a hypnotic rhythm. You roll your head back in the pleasure of the movement, your hair falling in shiny dark rivulets cascaded across your back. 

Mammon has never seen anything so beautiful before. He watches you then, your bare breasts bouncing with every roll of your hips, your beautiful curvy silhouette in the dimmed light of the room.

You are his, and he is yours. 

And in that beautiful moment, you are together as one.

Your climax follows shortly after, leaving you gasping in ecstasy. He chases his own release as you come undone around him, feeling his heat as he spills into you.

Mammon lies on his back after, your head resting on his chest. He strokes your hair, feeling your eyelashes fluttering against his skin as you struggle to stay awake.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says, cutting through the silence.

“Mmm?” you respond sleepily.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Stupidmammon.”

“Oi! I thought we all forgot about that stupid nickname from Levi’s dumb game,” huffs Mammon.

“Nope. Never.”

He sighs, starting to feel his own losing battle with the sweet embrace of slumber.

“Hey...can we make love every night ‘til ya have to leave?” he asks, running his hand up and down the curved ridge of your spine.

“Okay,” you respond. Barely a few seconds later, Mammon hears your light snore, causing him to chuckle. You’re adorable, even when you snore.

It’s you. It’s always been you...

Mammon drifts into sleep, happy that you’re his.

He doesn’t have to hear you say it solely in his dreams anymore.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Hi!! I saw that requests were open and I just read the Sweater fic and had to follow! 💓I was wondering if you could maybe do a song fic(like it’s loosely based off a song)? The song would be Delicate by Taylor Swift, I was thinking fluff and lil angst? With Klaus a human!reader 💓

HEY I"M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG (and that it's absolute trash) I TRIED TO FINISH IT FASTER BUT THE ENDING WASN'T WORKING!!! I hope you like it, it's not quite what you asked for but I tried!!!

ALSO, attention lovelies, I've been reading everywhere people saying things like "Klaus keeps being written wrong". I, personally, don't think you can write a character wrong. The whole point of this is that you can do whatever you want with the character. So, that being said, if that's how you feel then you'll probably hate this. If not, enjoy babes!

Delicate | Klaus Mikaelson

Description: Based off the song "Delicate" by Taylor Swift. I did it to the acoustic version, not a big deal but the vibe matches that version better. Basically Y/n works at a bar in New Orleans, it's hinted at that it's Rousseau's but it isn't named. Klaus comes in looking for Camille but finds her instead. One thing leads to another and she ends up in the Mikaelson compound doing things she wouldn't normally do. Terrible description, even I don't know wtf I wrote. Good luck, you will need it.

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Human!Reader

Warnings: It's cheesy. Like throw up in your mouth cheesy. Not realistic (to be fair what really is, isn't that why we do this?)

Word count: 3877

Tags: slight angst, FLUFF

(Not my picture :) )

The bar where you work is empty, something that’s surprising at almost eleven on a Saturday. Usually it’s packed, filled with whoever the wind blows in from the streets of New Orleans. That being said, not the most model citizens. You run a cloth over the counter, wiping away non-existent crumbs. You don’t mind a full bar but tonight you’re drained. You don’t mind the silence.

There’s one person, a man, sitting at the end of the counter. He ordered a drink over an hour ago, one of the cheaper beers you have to offer, that he’s still nursing. He keeps checking the clock on the wall, every five minutes or so. Stood up. You see it a lot. You don’t feel like talking, though, especially not to a man who has just had his ego stomped on. You just keep wiping the counter.

The man finally leaves at a quarter to twelve. He lasted longer than most, you’ll give him that. You don’t feel bad for him. You don’t know him. There’s a chance he deserved it. Scratch that, you’re in New Orleans, he definitely deserved it. When he’s out the door you pour yourself a drink. You have an hour left, the bar’s dead, and you’ve cleaned everything. Twice. You deserve it.

When you take the first sip of your rum and coke, the bell above the front door chimes. You almost sigh but when you look up the air is knocked from your lungs. In front of you is a man, sandy blonde and tall. Handsome. That’s not why you can’t breathe, though. You see a lot of attractive men blow through your bar, if each one stole your breath you wouldn’t be very good at your job. No, the wind gets knocked from your lungs because of the blood on his grey t-shirt.

He marches to where you are and lays his hands flat on the counter. He doesn’t slam them. In all the scenarios where a dangerous looking man comes into an empty bar in search of trouble he always slams his hands down. He’s ruining the bad guy experience. His eyes are icy and, upon further inspection, glossy. Maybe ‘bad guy’ is the wrong label.

“I’m gonna cut to the chase, love, where is Camille?” His accent catches you off guard.

He means Camille O’Connell. You know her as Cami, though. You’ve been working with her for as long as you can remember. On busy nights, with the two of you manning the bar, you easily pull a couple hundred in tips each. She’s supposed to be here tonight but she had called in at the last minute and you hadn’t argued with her. Knowing Cami, if she called in then it was for something important.

You take another sip of your drink, cautiously answering, “sorry it’s just me tonight.”

He leans back, running his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in the back, “alright, there goes that.”

It’s mumbled, like he’s talking more to himself than to you. He turns to leave and, for a reason you can’t quite explain, your heart sinks a little bit. It’s your turn to run your hand through your hair. You bite your lip nervously. You’re definitely going to regret this.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

He looks back at you, over his shoulder, a small smile on his face. His eyes flicker to the clock, sort of like how the man before him had, before settling back on you.

“What time are you off?” His question throws you off.

“I, ah,” you glance warily at him, your eyes darting to the stains on his shirt, “why?”

He chuckles lowly, chasing shivers up your spine, “don’t you trust me, love?”

This time you laugh. You’ve said it once, you’ll say it again: this is New Orleans. This isn’t the place you should trust easily. Although, looking back at him, his eyes flash with sincerity. That could easily be the rum though. Regardless, you can’t deny your curiosity. What do they say about that again?

“Should I?”

He smiles wide this time, his eyes piercing yours from across the room, “not if you ask anyone from this town.”

Oh yeah; they say it kills.

“I’m off in an hour, I'll meet you in the back.”

“Until then, love,” he parts, leaving nothing but the chiming bell in his wake.

You don’t realize how fast your heart is beating until he leaves. It drowns out the music drifting through the bar and you’re stuck with your thoughts. When you close your eyes you see his crystal ones and you shiver again. It dawns on you that you don’t even know his name. You don’t know anything about him. This is definitely a bad idea. You quickly down the remainder of your drink, pouring yourself another and pulling up a stool.

You pull out your phone; now is probably a good time to shoot Camille a text.

Hey, so a guy just came in asking about you.

Should I be worried?

12:02

A few minutes later your phone buzzes.

That depends, what does he look like?

12:04

You smile a little at her reply, typing back quickly.

Blonde, tall, blue-eyes. Spoke like he

knew you well.

12:04

This time her response is instant and chilling.

That was probably Klaus. If I'm

right trust me when I say you

want no part of that. I’m talking

major drama.

12:05

Your heart stops at her words and you think back to the blood on his shirt, feeling entirely stupid.

Is he dangerous?

12:06

Her answer takes longer than you would have liked, your pulse hammering in your eardrums for too long.

No.

12:11

You sigh in relief, clicking your phone off and setting it on the bar top.

After that the hour passes excruciatingly slow. Now you know how that man must have felt. You’ve probably looked at that clock a dozen times. After what feels like five, of what was supposed to be one, hours, the hand finally strikes ten to one. You sigh in relief as you rush to count the money in the till. After locking the front door and turning off all the lights, you check your appearance in the mirror behind the bar one last time. You smooth your hair down and pinch your cheeks lightly, although you’re not sure why. You’ve seen it in movies though, so you give it a shot.

You step out of the back door into the cool air, letting it wrap around your hot skin as you lock the door.

“Took you long enough,” you jump slightly at the smooth voice that greets you.

Klaus. Well, probably Klaus. You’re still not sure. You should be scared but you can’t bring yourself to do so. You can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face when you turn to meet him. He’s cleaned up, wearing a fresh crew-neck and some dark jeans. When he steps into the light you notice the dark circles under his eyes. For the second time tonight you find your heart aching for this man.

“Well, what are we doing now?” You tilt your head to the side, watching his eyes watch you in the alleyway.

“That depends, love, are you still up for that drink?”

Your heart flutters at his proposition, “if I remember properly, I’m the one who asked to buy you a drink.”

He walks over to you, offering you up his hand and sending you a delicious smirk, “call me old fashioned.”

You place your palm in his without a second thought, a side effect most likely caused from the alcohol warming your chest. He pulls you out of the alley and into the streets of the French Quarter. It’s teeming with life still, despite it being one in the morning. Music trickles out of bars that are still open, strings of lights and street lamps guiding you down the uneven cobble stones.

“You know, you still haven’t asked me my name,” your words float into the air, mingling with the music like a new song.

“Would you like me to ask you your name, love?”

You almost say no, if only to make sure that he doesn’t stop calling you by that word. Love. It makes your insides twirl.

“My name is Y/n,” you answer softly instead.

He repeats your name back, like he’s testing how it feels on his tongue, and smiles lightly. Your heart sings in your chest, a warm blush settling over your skin in the dim night. You wish you could record him and play it on a loop. You could get lost in the way he says your name.

“Well Y/n, love, aren’t you going to ask me my name?”

His thumb rubs circles and your mind goes fuzzy, “I don’t need to, Klaus.”

“Ah, I see you’ve been speaking to Camille. Tell me, what wonderful things did she have to say,” there’s a smile on his face but his tone is off; too cool.

You glance at his face. He’s staring ahead of you, his eyes locked on the horizon, refusing to meet your gaze. You squeeze his hand tighter, not saying anything right away. You’ve always tried to be the person who decides for herself. What you wear, what music you listen to. Who you like and, with that, who you don’t. In a city as wayward as this one, you try to avoid letting yourself be influenced by the likes, or dislikes, of others. It’s only fair.

“It doesn’t matter.”

He looks over to you, surprise laced in his eyes, “well, I suppose that’s good because we’re here.”

You don’t realize that you’ve stopped walking until he says that, your eyes drifting back in front of you. You can’t help but gasp at the sight. You can’t say you’ve never seen a house like this before but you can say that you’ve never been privy to being this close to one. It’s as grand as any New Orleans compound, held up by marvellous white columns and a porch that could probably hold three of your mother’s small farmhouse alone. The wrought iron gates and towering hedges that surround it add a hint of mystery to its beauty. It looks forbidden.

Klaus pulls you through the gate, your mouth still gaping at the scene in front of you. He chuckles, walking you to the front door, his eyes locked on your face. You can tell he’s soaking up your every expression and basking in it.

Your heart leaps when Klaus leans down to whisper into your ear, “you haven’t seen anything yet, love.”

And he’s right because when he opens the door your head spins. It’s a courtyard. Right there in the middle of the house. It’s breathtaking, every square inch of the space before you. Your eyes dart to the iron banisters surrounding the floors that seem to go on forever, reaching towards the sky which is visible through glass panels. Ferns hang from each floor, bowing to the beautiful fountain centered precisely in the middle of it all. You're in awe.

You also feel completely and utterly out of your element. Two hours ago you wouldn't have even dreamt that you would be standing somewhere a marvellous as this. It isn’t you. Not because you don't want it to be. Life just doesn’t always work out the way you want it to.

“This is,” you turn to the blue-eyed boy behind you, shaking your head slightly, “it’s just wow.”

You’re breathless. You feel like you have been since you met him. When he laughs though, like really genuinely laughs, you finally know what it truly feels like to be breathless. His laugh makes your heart stop and simultaneously restarts it at the same time. It’s oxygen. Before this moment you weren't breathing. This is what life feels like.

He leads you through a door, your eyes catching on every bit of the house you’re granted and on him. You watch the way his back moves through the fabric of his shirt and how his eyes dart to every door you pass, like he’s trying to picture what’s behind them. You’re just as amazed by him as you are the house, perhaps even more so.

Klaus brings you to a kitchen, one modern in comparison to the history you had passed on the way here. It's stark white and open. Beautiful, just like everything else you’ve seen so far. You’re not sure how much more you can take.

“Take a seat,” he gestures to the marble counter top where you gladly pull out a stool, “I’ll see what I can find.”

You watch him dig through the many cupboards lining the kitchen, admiring the way his shirt rides up slightly when he reaches above the sink. He pulls out a bottle filled with a honey coloured liquid, setting it in the sink.

“I can feel you staring, love, didn't anyone ever tell you that’s impolite,” his words bring immeasurable heat to your cheeks among other places.

When he turns back around to face you his crystal eyes are teasing, a casual smirk on his lips. He grabs the bottle again, stalking over to you with a look you can’t quite place. It pools more heat in all the places it shouldn't and makes it impossible to look away from him. When he reaches you he sets the alcohol behind your back. What he does next knock the wind from your lungs, again. Are you even surprised anymore?

He grabs you by the waist, picking you up as if you weigh nothing and swiftly setting you on the edge of the counter. Your hands grasp at his shoulders, trying to steady yourself from falling. The cold marble bites through the material of your pants, sending a new sensation coursing through your veins. He steps between your legs, caging you against the counter.

“That’s better now, isn't it.”

You’re pulse pounds rapidly in your ears, adrenaline swimming through your body. You’re eye level with him for the first time since meeting him. Under the bright lights of the kitchen you can see the sapphire ring around his pupils. Your heart jumps when you watch them expand, the black in his eyes dominating the blue. His shoulders relax under your fingers. You know you should move your hands but, by god, you don’t want to.

“Don’t you want that drink?” It’s not even convincing to your ears, let alone his.

With him so close to you, you can smell his cologne. It’s like water, cool and fresh. Absolutely intoxicating.

His pupils blow wide again and he swallows, his hand sliding up from your hips to cup your cheek, “do you?”

“Klaus,” his name flies from your lips like a question, one that you’re not sure if you want an answer to or not.

Your hands move to the base of his neck, pulling him closer to you. Your actions surprise you. You’ve never been like this. You’re a kiss at the end of the date kind of girl. A month of waiting kind of girl. A practical, keep to herself, kind of girl. Not this daring girl who sits on countertops in beautiful houses with gorgeous men. Men who look at her like they want to eat her up in ways that no one ever thought to warn her about.

He steps impossibly closer to you. His hand, the one still on your hip, slides down your thigh, pulling your leg up around his waist and holding you against him. Your fingers twist in the hair at the base of his neck, pulling a groan from his lips that lights your whole body on fire.

“Why did you come with me, love? I'm not good, surely Camille told you that,” he sighs his words, dipping his head back, further into your hand, his eyes closing.

His thumb rubs heated circles on your thigh and you have to bite back a moan, “I wanted to. For the first time in a long time I did something I wanted.”

He leans in, his face inches from yours, his breath hot on your lips, “my reputation isn’t exactly the best around here. I am told that I’m something of a monster.”

You wrap your other leg around his waist, squeezing them around him, causing his hand to tighten on your thigh, “I guess I don’t care.”

Klaus’ eyes flash black and the next thing you know his lips are on yours, moving against yours with a desperation you didn’t know that you’ve been craving. Your hands tug at his sandy hair, gripping at the soft curls with the same fervour. His hands hold your thighs tighter, crushing you against him. He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging harshly before soothing it with his tongue. You moan against his lips, your cheeks burning with equal parts embarrassment and passion.

He smiles darkly, pulling away slightly before reattaching his lips to your neck. He bites down, his tongue drawing circles on your sensitive skin. You groan into the empty space of the kitchen, holding him against you. You’ve been kissed before, but not like this. Everywhere his mouth lands sends more shocks racing down your spine. It’s wonderful, the way every part of your body is calling his name.

“Klaus,” his name falls from your lips; a prayer for something you don’t have the words to describe.

He pulls his head from your neck, leaning his forehead against yours, lightly kissing your lips, “how about we move this somewhere a little more private, yeah?”

You nod fast, crashing your lips harder against his. He stands, taking you with him. He’s out of the kitchen and up the stairs so quick that your head spins. Any other time you would have been upset that you didn't get to see more of this beautiful house but right now you're fully consumed by Klaus. His scent curls around you, lifting you higher than any man should be able to. Your arms cling around his shoulders, keeping you flush against his chest.

His lips stay on yours the entire jaunt to his bedroom, only separating when he tosses you onto his bed. The giggles fall easily from your mouth. You can’t help but bask in the soft comforter, inhaling as much of him as you can. He walks towards you, slowly, like a tiger on the prowl, pulling the tee off his body and discarding it on the floor without a second thought. Your eyes slide to his chest, glued to his toned stomach.

He climbs onto the bed, pulling you by your hips towards him. You roll, pinning him to the bed, your legs straddling his hips. He looks shocked, like no one’s ever done that with him before. How sad it must be to feel like you always have to be in control. You smirk down at him, pulling your own shirt over your head, exposing your lacy bra to him. His eyes turn black again, pooling heat in the pit of your stomach with just a look.

You lean down, your hands on his chest, fingertips running over the dips on his abdomen. He closes his eyes, his hands hanging loosely on your hips. He looks at peace. You don’t know him but you have a feeling he doesn’t get to feel this way often. Your heart breaks for him, again, and you don’t mind.

You lean down, placing your lips where your hands had been.

“Fuck,” Klaus’ hand wraps in your hair, his stomach tightening under your touch.

You work your way up, stopping every so often to suck his skin into your mouth. The sounds coming from his mouth make you glow, pushing you to do your absolute best. You kiss your way up his chest, giving extra attention to his collarbone. You nip at the side of his neck, his arms wrapping around your back. When you finally make it to his lips, you press a soft kiss to them, holding his face gently in your hands.

He sighs into your kiss, setting your insides on fire for the hundredth, “what do you want me to do?”

He looks up at you, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. His hands rub your back lightly. He leans his face into your hand, kissing your palm. Your heart flutters rapidly in your chest.

His answer catches you off guard, an unfamiliar warmth settling over, “I want to hold you. Please, love?”

You can’t help the smile that takes over your face, “you want to cuddle with me?”

“Do you have to say it like that?” He sits up, keeping you on his lap, his hands sliding up and down your exposed back.

His head falls against your neck, kissing gently, “I’m just surprised. Since when do guys bring girls home to do anything decent?”

You lean against him, your arms falling around his shoulders without a second thought. It’s so natural, like you’ve known him your entire life. It almost isn’t fair that the universe had been hiding this. Clearly he’s been around. He knows Cami. He’s obviously been in the bar before. He was there just always out of your reach.

“I don’t,” your skin tingles with his hums, “not usually.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach, much too far considering you barely know him, “why start now?”

Your words are harsher than you intend for and he pulls back, staring into your eyes, “I don’t know, love, you're just different.”

Your cheeks burn, a recurrence that’s starting to bother you, “what does that mean?”

You’re frustrated. For multiple reasons. You feel different, odd. He makes you feel things that you haven’t felt in a very long time, if ever. You’ve made choices you tonight that you wouldn’t normally make. You don’t feel like yourself. You like that you don’t feel like yourself but that means you also don't know who you are right now, which you don’t like. If you’re not you then who are you? Clearly you're the girl that jumps into bed with strangers, even if it’s not to sleep with them. You feel hot all over and you hate it.

“I don’t know,” he pushes away a strand of hair that you don’t realize had fallen, “what do you think?”

It’s not sarcastic but you wish it was so you wouldn't have to answer, “I think that this isn’t me. That I don’t do this. Ever. And that you’re breaking your end of the one night stand pact.”

His thumb skims over your cheek and you have to steel yourself from the shivers it causes, “love, I wasn’t aware that this was a one night stand. Is that what you want?”

Your mouth falls open slightly, your eyes stuck to his sparkling ones, “I-”

He presses his mouth to yours before you can answer, his hands holding you against him. You don’t fight him, you just sink into his arms once more. You let yourself revel in the warmth of his chest.

“Let’s not make any promises, love."

[cherry-moonlight]

Life Could Be A Dream

{NOS4A2 - Charlie Manx x Reader}

{A/N - Also on AO3 under CherryMoonlight}  Hi! I have been obsessed with NOS4A2, and while I haven’t read the book yet (don’t judge me), the show is incredible. I haven’t written anything in a year or so, and I know I owe plenty of other stories, but this series came to me in a dream and I’m just so happy to be off hiatus and inspired again! That being said, this is a first person POV reader insert, and pretty much just not very canon but I’m having fun writing it and I hope you have fun reading it should you choose to!  PS — I’m crushing hard on Charlie Manx so definitely expect some of that at some point. (I know, how dare I considering the whole virgin thing- but really, how could I not?!)

Warnings: Abusive parents (verbal, physical, emotional), alcoholism, drug use.

Chapter One - Long Overdue

Snowflakes fell like ashes from the sky as I walked forward down a snowy road I’d seen many times before. Despite the chill in the air, my skin didn’t react to the bitter coldness. I wasn’t bothered by the gentle wind or the glistening ice. It was as though the cold could touch me, but I couldn’t feel it.

Deep green pine trees doused with pure white lined the road as far as the eye could see in every direction but up and down. My eyes searched for something— anything, that could tell me what was happening; why I kept being brought to this particular place. There had to be some kind of sign.. Some kind of message I was to receive. Everything had a reason in my mind, bad or good, and this dream was no exception.

Much further down the road, there were glittering lights that danced in a blurred haze on the horizon. But no matter how far or how long I walked, they never grew closer.

“{Y/N}!” I heard what sounded like a small child’s excited whisper, as though they were taunting me, rather than calling out to me.

This is new..

I turned around immediately, looking for the source of the disembodied voice as a slight pang of panic rose in my chest. Though I wasn’t sure what was happening, the fear began to manifest anyway, giving me some kind of indication that this might become a nightmare.

A faint giggle echoed from the other direction, and I turned to face it, too. With a shake of my head and a moment to steady my breathing, I reminded myself that I was in control..

Or was I?

I picked up the pace to a brisk walk, not wanting to will myself awake just yet. The lights ahead of me stayed exactly where they were, but the sweet scent of peppermint mixing with pine began to fill my nostrils. It was pleasant, almost addicting right from the first whiff.

Still, I lowered my eyes to the ground, almost afraid of what I might see if I looked around so carelessly.

Another reverberated giggle filled the air, but this time it was accompanied by my name again. When I looked up from the white ground beneath my feet, I saw a small figure dash across the road. Just beyond that, the lights in the distance began to grow clearer before me.

“I can see..” I mumbled under my breath a bit too happily as I began to run, not wanting to miss the opportunity to finally find out what was beyond the long road.

My hair whipped around my face, and I knew if I could feel the air around me, it would’ve stung my skin. My breath formed small white clouds around my mouth as I continued, and just when I thought I could make out what lay in front of me, I was grabbed by small hands from behind, the excruciating pain of a sharp bite digging into the back of my shoulder, until—

I jolted awake, sitting upright as my {E/C} eyes pried themselves open to absorb where I actually was. Everything felt foggy, and as I clutched the shirt I wore with a trembling hand, I tried my best to ground myself.

A record I had on a turntable spun in what seemed like endless circles at the end of the track list and everything was quiet, save for the static. Looking out towards the frosty window, the ice climbing around the edges like spiderwebs offered me a sense of comfort. The world was cold, but inside, everything was warm and cozy. I was safe, and this was only a dream I’d been having for years— even if a few things had suddenly changed.

I stood up, working on slowing my breathing as I lifted the needle from the record and set it in its place, turning the player off. My mind roamed back to the dream I’d just had. It was strange that out of all the time it plagued my sleep, something had finally been different. It felt stranger than usual as I mulled over the way I heard children and saw the lights come a bit more into focus this time. There was something about it that I couldn’t quite place. It reminded me of the holidays— my favorite time of year despite the way I grew up. Christmas was my favorite holiday, always allowing me to get lost in everyone else’s joy and excitement. Watching heartwarming films and seeing the way the community came together to decorate their homes.. It reminded me of what being a child should’ve felt like, even though there was never any indication that Christmas even existed in my house. For as long as I could remember, not a tree, nor a present ever graced my December’s.

As I moved to the vanity to fix my appearance, I came to the conclusion that I was just excited for Christmas’s arrival, and my dream was a reflection of that. This year, I wanted to buy a small tree for my room and decorate it the way I wanted. I was an adult now, and no one could tell me any different.

“{Y/N}!” I heard my mother scream from downstairs, eliciting an automatic eye roll from me. “Come down here, now!”

With a huff, I did as I was told, despite being eighteen, I still lived under her roof and had to abide by her insane rules.

My mother and I never quite got along. As a child, she consoled herself with prescription pills and alcohol, and I never really had a father. My older brother split with him the moment he walked out of the door when I was seven, which is when my only recollection of Christmas’s ended, leaving them like a far too distant memory to me.

My dad never bothered to take me with him, or even call me afterwards. Neither did my brother. I didn’t know what I did wrong, but as time moved on, I realized they’d simply abandoned me with her. I supposed that they assumed I’d end up the same way. Not able to blame them, I never bothered to reach out, either. I had my dad’s number, I stole it from a sticky note my mom had gotten from one of their mutual friends. But if they wanted to contact me, they would. Sometimes, when my mom had locked me in the closet for “being too happy,” or hit me for answering a question in a way she didn’t like, I really wished they would’ve.

Since then, I’ve had to learn to take care of myself. When she was passed out on the floor for what felt like days on end, I was in charge of things like food and getting myself to school. The microwave was my best friend early on, and unlike most other kids, I was glad I had school to escape to.

I’d never quite forgiven her for ruining my childhood. Sometimes, I’d see the other kids getting picked up by their parents; the care in their eyes, the love in their hearts. It was all very comforting to watch. I cried myself to sleep countless nights wondering why I couldn’t have parents who cared for me the same way.

When my mother was awake, it was constant belittling and berating. Being so young, I had no idea I could be such a mistake and a screw up so soon, if at all. But there was dear old mom, ready to remind me at a moment's notice. Something as simple as dropping a pencil on the floor earned me an ear full of being a klutz and completely worthless to the world. If I even looked at her in a way she didn’t like, I felt her wrath.

But as time went on, she gradually got worse. She built up more of a tolerance to whatever she was taking, making her perfectly functional to the rest of society, but twice as abusive to me. No matter how old I got, I remained the punching bag. I’d thought she took out the anger of losing my father and brother on me, but later I couldn’t help but think it felt like she just liked hurting me.

Before I exited my room, I looked at a small cedar chest with a heart shaped lock that sat atop my dresser. It was my saving grace these days, the only thing that kept me sane. It held money I’d been putting away to get my own place, and a few other things that were important to me, like the note with my dad’s number and a small locket I had been gifted as a child.

Soon. Soon I’d never have to hear her voice or see her face again.

My feet shuffled to the bottom of the stairs and I inhaled and counted to four, then exhaled and counted to four; a small tactic that I used to deal with her. Turning the corner into the kitchen, I saw her sitting at the wooden table, glass of whatever the day's poison was in hand, waiting for me with a crisp white sheet of paper in front of her.

“What is this?” she questioned, the annoyance thick in her voice already.

I peeked over her shoulder. It was paperwork from a therapy session a friend let me take from her almost a year ago. I hadn’t wanted to do it, but she insisted once I explained just a portion of my life to her.

“You went through my things?” Was all I could manage.

I was bubbling with anger, but trying my best not to fly off the handle.

She wasn’t worth it, I reminded myself.

“You went to therapy? After all I’ve done for you, you felt like you needed… Help?”

She spat the word “help” out as though it were venom on the tongue. I was still processing the fact that she felt as though she’d raised me well, or really even at all. How dare she think she was there for me at all.

“Well? Answer me, {Y/N}!”

Lost for words, I stammered a bit, unsure of what to say. The last thing I felt like doing was fighting with her, and in that moment, I had no idea where to begin to tell her off.

“I— Just.. There’s—“

“I know you’ve always been a little slow,” she snorted. “But you can’t even answer a question these days..”

“That’s it! I’m sick of you! How dare you—” I snapped, but before I even had time to finish another thought, she was up from the chair and her hand had roughly connected with my cheek.

Stunned from the stinging sensation, I stared at her blankly. Though it used to be a daily occurrence, it had been a long time since she’d hit me, and the act only dredged up memories that I thought I’d gotten over. I shook my head, and without another word, I went upstairs, slipped into my favorite combat boots, grabbed a jacket and my bag and placed my cedar chest in it before making my way to the front door in a rushed cloud of hurt and anger.

“If you walk out of this house, you’re not coming back! I’ll leave your shit on the curb and I’ll never see your ungrateful ass again!” she called out, her voice hoarse with crazed, manic emotion.

“I wouldn’t come back if this were the last place on earth,” was all I said, opening the door to leave.

I heard the rattling of a pill bottle being frantically emptied and breathed a quiet laugh of disbelief before slamming the door shut. There was no care to be had in my mind or heart anymore. Maybe it was wrong, but I had taken too much from that woman. I was done sticking around and pretending to care in the hopes that she’d change one day.

Looking out ahead of me for a moment, I slid into my jacket and slung my bag over my shoulder. Closing the door with the intention of never looking back should’ve been the best day of my life. Instead, I felt anxious beyond belief.

Leaving with no plan as to where I was going wasn’t how I wanted to end things. I’d managed to stick around for eighteen years, and almost felt silly for letting this small encounter become the straw that broke the camel's back.

At the same time, eighteen years is a long time to go on the way I did. It was overdue.

As I walked into the snow, I realized how alone I truly was. No parents, no siblings. No family. I couldn’t burden my friends to deal with the mess my life had become. I lived in what could be considered the middle of nowhere. It was freezing and I had nowhere to go. I raised myself for so long, I didn’t know if I was actually expecting to be able to take care of myself in a situation like this or not, should it happen. But as I reached the end of my driveway and looked down the road, I was reminded of my recurring dream. It looked the same— the trees and the glistening snow atop them. The only thing missing was the dazzling lights at the end of the stretch. How I never put it together that this scenery was near identical before, I wasn’t sure.

It was then that I wondered if this is what my dream had been trying to tell me all along..

That I’d be walking a cold, lonely road to nowhere.

[softjeon]

Better Together

• Pairing: Rapper!Yoongi x Dancer!Jimin • Genre: Fluff • Words: 9,1k |  ↳ AO3 • Disclaimer: a bit of anxiety and nervousness / insecurities

written for the ‘Printed Melodies’ Event @yoonminficrec → Prompt: Yoongi’s rap crew competes at a hip hop competition and Jimin is also there as a competing street dancer.

written with @cassiavioletblue

↳ “C-can you please close the door again?” Jimin averted his gaze, trying not to be embarrassed by the whole situation. Yoongi ignored the boy’s half-hearted request at leaving him alone and instead furrowed his brows in concentration as he scanned him for real. When he dropped his gaze to the younger’s feet he could see that he was barefoot and awkwardly trying to hide it with the way he was sitting. “Are you crying because those cheerleaders out there stole your shoes?”

It was useless. He was useless. Why did he even think coming here would be a good idea in the first place. The day had started out bad already and it was proving itself to be the worst day Jimin ever had. First, he almost came too late for the sign ins and now he had forgotten his shoes. The most important item a dancer needed. He had been so nervous, anxiety driven all day and forgetting his shoes had been the last straw he needed to tilt over.

Jimin sobbed, burying his face in the palm of his hands and curled in further into the corner of the locker room he had hid in. There were loud noises outside, people passing but no one bothered to look inside these rooms. They had other things to care about, competitions to win. Closing his eyes, Jimin pulled his knees in and leaned his forehead against the cold wall, trying to count to ten and start again. He would be okay. He could practice the routine without shoes. Try it out a couple of times and see if it works or he could just keep hiding in here. Where no one could find him and sneak out without anyone noticing. They maybe would call out his name a couple of times, but then they would just disqualify him.

That was it.

Jimin gasped when the door suddenly burst open, eyes wide in fear and shock alike. Hand pushed over his mouth to keep from breathing too loudly and not make a noise. He stared at the closed bathroom door in which he had locked himself, seeing shoes walking closer to where the sinks were and Jimin held his breath.

The voices of the people outside were still in Yoongi’s head, bouncing around like a pinball machine, over and over again.

‘Oh, I never heard of you!’

‘Who are you again?’

‘Wait, you are a rapper? You are so small I thought you were one of the background dancers’

‘You must be so nervous to be here’

He had smiled and talked and tried to make connections as he knew he should be while his inner tension rose and rose until it was so close to snapping that he just needed to get out RIGHT ABOUT NOW: He burst through the door of the first empty room he could find, growling out his anger and frustration. “Yes, I’m new and I don’t look like the typical rapper and most of you haven’t heard of me I know that so fucking thank you for reminding me!” He kicked against the bench in the room while having no idea that he wasn’t the only one hiding in here.

Jimin jerked violently, a squeal passing his lips in fright, when the man had kicked out and he pressed his palm a little harder over his mouth. It was silent. Only the heavy panting from the stranger audible. Eyes wide, Jimin tried to push himself as far as he could in the corner of the bathroom stall, when he heard the footsteps coming closer.

Yoongi flinched just as hard as Jimin as he had heard the youngers frightened sound. His defenses went up immediately and his heart was pounding when he went over to where he assumed the other person was. He had run out of there to not have any witnesses of his outbreak and now he had been watched, nonetheless.

Couldn’t he have some goddamn peace for five damn minutes!?

Jimin whimpered when the door busted open and stared up at the man that had just ripped the door open angrily, eyes wide and filled with tears. He was about to open his mouth, apologize and tell him to not hurt him when the angry stranger began to shout at him, pouring all of his frustration out on him and all Jimin could do was listen.

“What are you doing in here? Did you follow me? Trying to tease me some more, huh? Do you want to watch me crack under pressure, is that it so you can tell the others that they were totally right about me and that I’m just some tiny stupid no name rapper who can’t even hold his temper before a competition?” Only after he yelled at the boy was his head clear enough for him to really look at him and he saw that the younger’s eyes were remarkably glassy.

Jimin waited for him to finish his rant, confused on why the fuck the other thought that he had spied on him. A tear fell onto his cheek and Jimin hastily wiped it away.

“I...I wasn’t listening in on you and I don’t care who you are,” He whispered, voice sounding croaky from the crying. “Also, I was here first!” His voice broke a little again and he awkwardly smoothed down his team jacket that he wore, even on days where he competed alone like today. Jimin had been the only one who was able to qualificate himself for this competition. Not many were invited to the final rounds, even though many tried from all across the country - dancers and rappers alike. If you made it though, then you had a good chance to be seen by either one of the top managers of the entertainment agencies. And there was a grand prize awaiting for the winner. But even if you didn’t you could get lucky that someone found you interesting enough to pull you out of the many competitors to hand over a card, maybe invite you to an audition. Something Jimin was dreaming about night and day.

“C-can you please close the door again?” Jimin averted his gaze, trying not to be embarrassed by the whole situation. He wished the ground would swallow him whole.

Yoongi ignored the boy’s half-hearted request at leaving him alone and instead furrowed his brows in concentration as he scanned him for real. “Wait - you are one of the dancer’s, aren’t you?” He had seen a group of them standing around before, chatting happily and acting more like cheerleaders on a trip while the rappers were acting all cool and hard-boiled. “Obviously,” Jimin pointed at his jacket where the name of his dance school was printed on and slowly got up. “And you’re a rapper,” He nodded towards Yoongi, noticing his simple outfit.

“What are you doing in here?” Spying definitely wasn’t it and now that his anger had subsided his head was clear enough to realize that it was apparently him who had interrupted the boy’s quiet, not the other way round. When he dropped his gaze to the younger’s feet he could see that he was barefoot and awkwardly trying to hide it with the way he was sitting. “Are you crying because those cheerleaders out there stole your shoes? Is that still a thing between grown up people?” He asked bluntly, ignoring that the boy had tried to hide his tears as well.

“I guess, I have been doing the same thing you did,” Jimin answered and leaned against the cold tile wall, “Having anxiety and getting away from the people and what they are saying.” Jimin smiled faintly, squeezing through the door and over to the sink to let cool water run over his wrists for moment and then washed his face, trying to get rid of the salty tear stains. When he pulled out a tissue, drying it, it still looked swollen and red. Looking down at his feet, Jimin added, “No, they can be mean but not like that…I don’t really need them to be a failure. I do that very well on my own.”

“Sorry that I didn’t recognize your probably awesome dance studio right away, princess. I had a few more important things to handle.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I’m .. I’m not anxious! I’m angry, there’s a difference.” He watched the younger wash his face and then look resigned at his reflection. It went like a stab through his heart when he realized that he recognized the boy’s expression; lot and desperate and full of self-hatred. He had seen it before, many time. In his own mirror. His voice was a little softer when he gently pushed further, “Why, what happened? Did you disqualify yourself?”

“Doesn’t matter what happened and no, I didn’t. I wouldn’t be here if I did. It’s only the finals today.” Jimin said and turned around to the stranger, “While you guys only have one day of competition we already did pre-rounds a week prior. We’re already only a selected group of people who compete today…or else it will take days. Do you know how many people want to be here today? It’s the competition,” A sad smile pulled at the corner of his lips, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“It’s making you nervous, right? You want to prove them wrong.” Jimin bit his lip. It felt good to talk to the stranger, somehow lifting the heaviness around his own heart. He knew that feeling all too well. “And you fear to not be able to show them how wrong they are… I bet you’re really, really good and they just don’t know you, yet.” Jimin crossed his arms in front of his chest, “You’re new and the rappers are always weird with new people. Believe me, they are worse than the dancers…I don’t really hang with the rappers, but some of my friends do. It’s all about being known already…whether it’s through social media or not. And they fear the unknown. They can’t access you, that’s why they want to make you nervous, so you fail, and they can say that you had no confidence or not enough experience.”

It was downright creepy how easily the younger saw through him while Yoongi could have sworn that he was perfect at hiding his own insecurities. He swallowed hard, not sure if he should defend himself - or if that would just make it even more obvious that the boy was right. Also, he was a bit confused as to why the boy was so kind to him. He had barged in, yelling at him and asking him questions and the other was building him up in return. “Th...thank you?” He answered; voice so unstable that it sounded more like a question than a statement. Also, while the other had described Yoongi’s situation pretty much on point he hadn’t told him a single thing about himself which meant that Yoongi could only assume. “So... if you know all this and you aren’t new then why are you scared? You must be good or else you wouldn’t be here. Is your competition that heavy? Is there something other at stake for you than pride?” He figured if the boy knew so much about him it was only fair to even it out.

“It’s my third year i’m competing here,” Jimin sighed, not wanting to say how good or not-good he was but the fact itself that he had made it into the finals three times in a row should be information enough for the rapper, “And you always see the same people with the same choreographies at every competition. You'll get used to it, believe me. Don’t listen to them. And I...I...I’m just nervous.”

He bit his lip, avoiding Yoongi’s gaze and rubbed over his face making it grew paler than it already was. Jimin didn’t want to think about how much of a mess he was. He’d rather hide in the corner again until the competition is over and then find a good plausible excuse for his trainer to tell him that he had been disqualified in one of the most prestige and important hip and street dance competitions. Walking over to the bank, Jimin sat down, startling when it moved as if screws had been loosened from the impact of Yoongi’s kick and the wood would crash any minute now. He froze, eyes wide as he looked up at Yoongi, “That you rappers always have to be so aggressive. They really made you frustrated, huh?” He shook his head and smiled, “I guess, I’ll take the floor again then.”

Sitting down, Jimin pulled his legs in and when Yoongi still didn’t move along or walked out again after a while, he cocked his head aside. He really looked at the stranger, gazing him up and down without trying to be creepy but he only noticed now how nervous the other really seemed. His white hair standing in contrast to his dark attire, cute button nose and lips that were pursed into a pout. He was pretty handsome...and cute. Jimin had to smile, he really wasn’t the usual type of rapper. But neither was he the usual type of hip hop dancer and still both of them were here.

“What are you doing in this part of the gym anyways? Isn’t your competition in the other half? So that dancers and rappers are not mingling.” Jimin giggled, winking playfully at the stranger. Patting the floor next to him, Jimin offered him the floor to sit on, “If you want to be with the outcast though, hide until the competition is over and they disqualify you then you’re welcome to stay here with me.”

“No, I won’t stay here and hide. Actually, I came here to calm down enough to be able to go on stage. Are you really going to let it get to you?” Yoongi cocked his head a little looking at Jimin challengingly. “Isn’t it worse to hide away in here and not even try?”

Jimin shrugged his shoulders. “It’s stupid but…I forgot my shoes,” Wiggling his toes a little, he looked up at Yoongi, “The most important thing for a dancer…my routine it’s…it’s tricky and I need the right kind of shoes. It’s not like I can lend some. And I’m not sure if I can do it barefoot…the floor we’re dancing on is not made to dance barefoot on it so. It will be a mess. I will be a fucking mess.” Jimin’s eyes filled with tears again and he quickly avoided Yoongi’s gaze. He knew he sounded stupid, but he needed to be the best. He couldn’t fail. He didn’t want to miss one step. Jimin would beat himself up for it forever. “I’m alone here today. I’m the only one out of my team who got a qualification. And…it just got to me. Sometimes it just gets too much, you know?” Jimin looked up with tear filled eyes. “But it’s okay, you can use the room to calm down…I’ll stay here and not say a word. I promise you won’t even notice me.”

Yoongi huffed, “You are definitely very hard to ignore, I can tell you that.” The boy was too pretty and too interesting for that, besides talking to him helped a lot more to calm his nerves than screaming into the void or kicking things. “What shoe size do you have? Maybe you can take my shoes?” He dropped his gaze to Jimin’s feet again and frown when he realized that they definitely weren’t wearing the same size. “Can’t you just try without shoes? I don’t know when you’re on but maybe you could train barefoot in here? If it doesn't work you can still go back to hiding, right?”

Jimin listened, biting his lip in thought while Yoongi was talking, saying out loud what he had thought about before. “I still got time,” Jimin whispered, wiping over his eyes in the process. “Can you help me?” He asked and blinked up. Whatever it was about the stranger, he had lured him in with his calm voice and warm eyes that made him want to try. He had thought about it too. He could still stay inside if it doesn’t work. “I…I’m not very good with judging myself,” Jimin tried a smile, cheeks blushing, “Will you give me an honest feedback then?”

“What?” Yoongi's eyes widened as he blurted out, “I can’t dance!” Before he realized that what Jimin was asking of him wasn't to be his dance partner but just to look at him and his skills without shoes.

“Uhm, sure.” He shrugged his shoulders, feigning nonchalance when in reality the prospect of having this beautiful boy dance just for him here where it was just the two of them had him swallowing hard. Even though they didn’t know each other it felt... intimate somehow.

Jimin smiled and got up, shaking out his stiff muscles and jumped on the spot a couple of times. Rolling his shoulders back, Jimin began to stretch his neck, moving his body just enough to warm it up a little. He had already done a whole warming-up process right before his melt-down, so he deemed this good enough. There wasn’t much time now anyways. “Can you hold your hand up like this please?” Jimin reached for Yoongi’s hand, not hesitant about touching him and placed it just like he needed and then smiled. “I can’t dance without stretching myself first and usually I have someone from my team with me and it’s not as effective to do it against a wall….anyways,” Without even preparing Yoongi further or telling him what was going to happen, Jimin swung his leg up gracefully and placing his foot in Yoongi’s hand so he could help him stretch. “You can pull it up a little higher, please.” Jimin giggled, “Just do it…it won’t hurt me.” With his hands placed on Yoongi’s shoulder, he looked at him with his puffy and still red eyes. “I’m Jimin.”

“Woah!” Yoongi almost took a step back in reflex as Jimin swung his leg at him but instead of kicking him he just gracefully placed his foot over his arm as if he was made of rubber. “How..?” He stood there, absolutely stunned as the younger held his balance and easily bent further showing off his toned leg and incredible flexibility. Yoongi tried not to look but with them being so close and him being way too curious for his own good he let his gaze wander down the boys leg to his ass. His cheeks heated as he thought about what else being this bendy could be good for...

Jimin cocked up an eyebrow when Yoongi wasn’t answering or telling him his name. Letting his leg fall again, Jimin took a step back. “You don’t want to tell me yours? You can tell me your rap name, too if that makes you more comfortable. I just don’t want to call you stranger in my head anymore.” Jimin genuinely smiled, before he simply slid into a split right in front of Yoongi.

“Ah, sorry, your witchcraft here slightly distracted me. You won’t start walking upside down on all fours next, will you?” He joked hiding the truth that he had been distracted. “My name’s Yoongi. My actual name.” He made a little pause to have Jimin realize that he did feel comfortable with him and that he wanted the other to know his real name. “Nice to meet you Jimin. Wait, what did you think about me in your pretty little... oh my god! how can you even do that?” He had seen girls do the splits but the thought alone of landing like this as a boy had him clenching his thighs.

“Witchcraft?” Jimin shook his head and got up again - feeling a lot better now. He could almost blend out the music that came from the inside of the gym, the voice that announced new numbers to step up on the floor. “It’s just a matter of training. You can do it, too. I can show you.”

“Nope, no way, no thank you very much my legs will stay in their natural position,” He was quick to decline Jimin’s offer. There was no way that he would try this without getting himself seriously injured. Which might be a little counterproductive for his ‘swag’ on stage.

Jimin winked at him and added, “Well, what I thought of you was…aggressive rapper, great, one of those again and then I noticed your warm eyes and very soothing voice. And now I think that I like your name.” Jimin took Yoongi by his shoulders and placed him against the wall, before taking a few steps back to have enough room to move. “My warm eyes, hu?” He chuckled, a little bit embarrassed and a little bit flattered. He raised his brow in a silent question when Jimin just moved him, but he went willingly, letting the younger put him where he wanted him to be right now.

No matter how flirty Jimin had been, now he felt anxious again to show it to a stranger, to Yoongi. He wasn’t sure if he could do it barefoot, so the risk was pretty high to fuck up and for Yoongi to tell him to just keep hiding. His heart began to race. “Be honest with me then, will you? There’s no need to lie to me.” Jimin said and took a deep breath. “I can’t do everything here since this room is pretty narrow but…I will do a few moves. Once that I’m not sure I can do on barefoot.” He nodded reassuringly, more to himself than to Yoongi. 

Jimin breathed in - and then his body changed. Just like that he became something delicate and graceful, using his arms to elongate the form of his dance move, using his legs to jump and twirl like gravity wasn’t a thing for him. Yoongi knew exactly why Jimin had qualified for this; because seeing him dance made you want to dance as well, because it looked so easy so beautiful, like purest joy formed into motions. When his awe had ebbed down a little for him to actually concentrate on what Jimin had asked him to do he noticed that the younger’s turns were a little bit shaky and that his expression turned a little scared whenever he did a really difficult jump or turn. However, his expression was the only thing that gave away that he was nervous, the turns and jumps still came out beautiful.

At least in Yoongi’s eyes.

“Fuck,” Jimin stopped himself short. Tears were burning in his eyes, clouding his view right away and he only hated himself even more. His lungs were burning from trying to hold back the sob that was threatening to spill over. Taking in another shaky breath, he ignored Yoongi completely and tried another turn. He didn’t even make a couple of twirls before he fell out of it. His hands were shaking when he tried once more, but it was harder to do it on barefoot, having no solid shoes that helped you give the best performance.

Yoongi realized too late that Jimin was spiraling out of control - not in reality but definitely in his mind. “H.. hey, Jimin!” He reached for the boys hands, squeezing both of them as he could see the younger falling into his own mind, the same way he knew oh-so-well from late nights at the studio with nothing but coffee when he had played the same part of his song over and over again until everything felt so wrong and useless that he was ready to rip everything to pieces - including himself.

“Look at me! You did amazing, okay? You might dance horrible from your point of view but people on the outside don’t know how it was supposed to look with your shoes on. They just see what you show them now. And I’m not lying to you if I say that you are a fucking revelation when you dance. It’s goddamn beautiful!” He paused when he notices how used he was to swearing, spoiling the compliments out of habit. “Uhm..,” He awkwardly scratched his head. “I’m sure one could have said that better and more elegantly. But it’s true. I promise. You dance amazing. If you don’t let it show in your face how nervous you are and if you practice those long-ass turns a little more than you’re basically flawless.”

“They will see if I fall out of a turn, though. The jury will know,” Jimin’s voice sounded weak, but there was still a blush on his cheeks from Yoongi’s compliments. “I need something to look at. Usually I look at my dance teacher,” He almost whispered, his eyes flickering around the room nervously. “If my face isn’t right….” Jimin whined, “How am I supposed to smile when all I think about is to nail those turns? I need to nail them, Yoongi! I just have to! They all dance the same shit, the same moves. The jury sees it all day…I want them to know I am different. That I’m worth to be looked at.” His eyes stopped at Yoongi and Jimin could swear his heart skipped a beat. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Please don’t panic now. You’ll do it, Jimin. Even if you make a mistake if the rest of your routine is gorgeous you’ll still get points. And I’m sure you can find something else to look at. It might be safer to choose a point on the opposite site of the room, something that won’t move like a person’s face could and that will help stabilize you. If you need me to I can make a stain onto the wall if that helps you.” He was only half joking at that.

“A stain?” Jimin chuckled and raised his eyebrows, “They would kick you out…I don’t want that. Y-you have a competition too.” Having his hands in Yoongi’s the whole time, Jimin was now reminded of their contact and the time that was passing. With a gasp, he reached for Yoongi’s wrist looking at his watch and luckily sighed again, not letting go off him. “When it’s your turn? Can you watch me?” Jimin asked bluntly, biting his lip for his straightforward question. Yoongi could just say no. He wasn’t owing him anything, but he was the only one Jimin knew here right now.

“Can I.. uhm, sure, yes I could.. I can do that.” He normally didn’t fluster that easily but how could he stay cool if some crazily talented, lovely and pretty dancer boy who was right in front of his face was looking at him like that while more or less asking him to be the fix point he wanted to rely on for his dance performance in an important competition.

“If I mess up or fail, I give you permission to just kick me like you did with the bench,” Jimin chuckled, feeling a lot more relief now with knowing he knew one of the faces in the crowd. He grabbed Yoongi by his wrist and then pulled him along and – finally – out of the empty locker room and to his own dressing room. “Deal.” Yoongi nodded though they probably both new that he was talking nonsense; would never hurt Jimin no matter the outcome of the competition.

He got flustered again when Jimin pulled him along, right through the crowd of other dancers all while not even letting go of his hand for a second. Jimin ignored the other dancers that looked at the two of them as they burst in (very obviously one of them not being a dancer but a rapper, as they could tell by his competing number). They got stares that Jimin didn’t notice and because Yoongi didn’t want to let go of Jimin’s hand either he jutted his chin forward and pretended to not see them either.

Taking his water bottle and his make-up, Jimin quickly fixed himself up in the mirror as best as he could, before he shrugged it off, “Ah, well I guess whiny and red puffy eyes is my look now.” Yoongi watched Jimin doing his makeup, as quickly and efficiently as Yoongi could only dream of, wishing he could ask Jimin to do his too. “Let’s call it real and vulnerable and leave out the self-bashing okay?”

Turning around to Yoongi again, Jimin couldn’t help but laugh at the way some of the dancers were oozing over the rapper. “They just like you because you’re one of the rappers.” Jimin raised an eyebrow, “Didn’t you say they act like cheerleaders? It’s always the same…the rappers pretend we don’t really exist but secretly drool over the dancers while we…well, they just drool right away.” Yoongi gasped in fake shock at Jimin’s observations and puffed out his chest in an exaggerated show of fake pride before answering, “Drool over dancers? We would never! We are way too cool and smooth and… wait, did you just say you people might be interested too? What does one need to do to get a chance at dating a pretty dancer?” He was teasing Jimin slightly though his spine tingled at the thought of actually dating Jimin for real.

Must be the pre-stage adrenaline talking.

“Sure, they are,” Jimin put on a little bit of tinted lip balm, making his lips shiny and giving them a rosy undertone. He couldn’t ignore the little stab in his heart, when Yoongi talked about dating one of the dancers, maybe he meant even more than one. Maybe he was just like the other rappers when it came down to looking for sex. Jimin nodded over to the other dancers in the dressing room, the ones who kept staring at Yoongi, “Just go over there then and ask. I bet they will gladly give you their phone number.” He shrugged his shoulder and turned around to the mirror again, putting on a little more lip balm. “I need to get dressed anyway.” Jimin smiled faintly, trying not to show that he was a teeny tiny bit jealous at the thought of Yoongi simply ignoring him for superficial (at least in his mind they were or maybe it was just the jealousy speaking) dancers. Getting out a shiny, silver top out of his bag with a sparkly jacket and what looked like leather pants, Jimin sighed. When he noticed that Yoongi didn’t move, Jimin looked at him, hands already holding onto the hem of his shirt, revealing just enough of his stomach for Yoongi’s eyes to drop down. “If you stay though,...ehm, could you turn around maybe?”

Yoongi licked his lips, the answer already on his tongue, something along the lines of ‘why would I go over to them and ask for your number if you could just give it to me directly?’ but he hesitated for a second to long and then Jimin lifted his shirt and his thoughts were just gone. The younger showed off his smooth, flat stomach, shirt riding up enough to hint at his abs. Though what was even more mouthwatering was the little happy trail that lead his eyes naturally down further and further until it disappeared in the hem of his pants and all Yoongi wanted to do was get the fabric out of the way to see where it lead, to get a glimpse of… he coughed when he realized that Jimin had spoken to him but he hadn’t really gotten what the other had said so he just stood there, blinking at Jimin who was still standing there like he was about to strip right in front of his eyes and didn’t know how to react.

“Pardon?”

“Turn around, please.” Jimin blushed a little, holding his shirt in front of his chest now, “I’d like to undress...and…” He motioned for Yoongi to turn and only then did the other react and Jimin could have sworn he saw blushed cheeks. Had he blushed because of him? Jimin quickly pushed that thought back and got out of his pants and into his dancing outfit. “You can turn back now.” He was still securing the belt, fixing the top and then smoothed over the jacket. “What do you think?” He did a little turn, bending over to his feet and turning up his pants that now, without shoes, were a little too long.

“Yeah, that’s.. that’ll go.” Yoongi’s voice was a little too affected for his liking though he couldn’t help it: Jimin looked stunning! Not that he hadn’t looked pretty before but his stage outfit was simply unfair! His pants were a little tighter and so they accentuated his muscular legs. It was almost impossible to keep from staring at them. His shirt had a low cut neckline and gave a hint of collarbone and chest, something that Yoongi was just weak for. On top of it he wore a sparkly jacket that was glittering and shining, making him look like an actual prince. “You look amazing.” He finally confessed, almost a little shy now that he was faced with so much beauty.

“Thank you,“ Jimin averted his gaze, not really sure what to say now and if he should complement Yoongi back or if this was awkward or…

“You’re not bad either,“ He could have slapped himself for that in the face. He had panicked, wanting to tell Yoongi that he thought of him as handsome, too – even without sparkles or a fancy outfit. “I mean…I just…you’re handsome. That’s what I was trying to say ehm…“ Jimin rubbed his neck awkwardly. He was almost relieved when the door opened and a man, holding onto a clipboard was announcing their group of dancers next.

Yoongi burst into laughter, breaking the tension. “I’m ‘not bad’ hu? What a nice compliment..” He felt relief that he wasn’t the only awkward one - and that his interest didn’t seem so one sided or else Jimin wouldn’t have gotten so adorably shy. Before he could deepen that assumption the door opened and Jimin snapped back into focus, body tensing up immediately and so quickly, that Yoongi was afraid the other might have pulled a muscle. The blush on Jimin’s cheek vanished and instead he paled again.

“Hey...” Yoongi reached out for the others shoulder, gently digging his thumb into the hardened muscles until Jimin lost a bit of the tension. “Don’t do that. No overthinking please. You were doing great before; you’ll do great on stage. I’ll be in the crowd so you will have something to focus on and the judges will be absolutely blown away by you. You’ll see, I can predict the future. Those of pretty dancers at least.”

“Why are you so kind to me?“ Jimin whispered, unsure eyes searching for Yoongi’s in a weak attempt to ground himself. Nervously Jimin pulled at his bottom lip. They let everyone else exit first, before Jimin took a deep breath again. “O-kay, let’s do this.“ Jimin didn’t move. “Okay…now.“ Jimin was still frozen, hands shaking. “M-maybe if you drag me outside?“

“Because I want to. And soft people deserve kindness.” He shrugged his shoulders. Yoongi thought of himself as simple. If someone was nice to him he was nice to them back - which also applied for the other direction of course. But Jimin was nice and even though they had a rocky start he liked their way of talking to each other. Unfortunately, even kindness didn’t get Jimin to move so Yoongi did what Jimin had asking him to. Kind of.

“As you wish.” He commented, the only warning that Jimin got before Yoongi bend down, getting an arm under his knees before sweeping Jimin literally off his feet and carrying through the door bridal style. In the hallway he gingerly set him down looking at him with a deadpan expression. “Can you walk the rest, or do you want me to carry you like this on stage?”

“I…I just …wanted to hold your hand again but if you want to carry me everywhere from now on…I’ll gladly let you do so,“ Jimin giggled, the sweet gesture of Yoongi loosening him up again. “Thank you.” Reaching out for Yoongi’s arm he squeezed him lightly, hand falling down to his to interlace their fingers. There was another announcement and Jimin jerked violently. This time, he just took a deep breath and walked ahead, leading Yoongi into the gym and into the crowd of people that surrounded the stage. It felt strangely right to hold hands with the dancer that he had barely known for an hour now. Yoongi allowed himself to think about how amazing it would feel to get to know him even better, to take him out to dates and talk through the night and then hold his hand (or foot just to help him stretch again) but his thoughts were quickly cut short when he felt Jimin flinch again. The boy was so jumpy he felt like there must be some bunny genes in him. He inched a little closer, hoping that his presence would calm him a little (he had been told before that his ‘lethargic appearance was as grounding as a ton of bricks’).

Jimin kept his gaze low when he squeezed through the people and to the left side of the stage where the dancers entered the stage each time their number got called out. They were getting closer to his own. ”Y-you can stay here,“ Jimin said a little breathless as he began to warm up his muscles again. Then he hesitated. Only two more dancers in front of him. “Thank you, really.“ Jimin smiled at him and before he could think about it, the boy leaned in placing a soft kiss on Yoongi’s cheeks and then quickly ran off, while his heart felt like it was jumping right out of his chest – and it wasn’t because of his nervousness.

He waited, jumping from one foot to the other while the music was thumping loudly out of the boxes, but he ignored the other dancer completely. It would only make him more of a nervous wreck to watch how good he was. Jimin only looked up to search the crowd and meet Yoongi’s eyes again until someone stepped in front of his view.

“Number?”

Jimin looked up at the man with the clipboard again, telling him his number quick and then lined up at the side of the stage. Closing his eyes, Jimin inhaled deeply. His stomach churned, heart beating fast and he felt like he was about to faint. And then his name was announced.

“Number 78, Park Jimin, Arts and Dance Company Seoul.” The voice said over the speaker and a gasp fell over the crowd. They were still clapping, but it sounded a little off, as if they weren't sure. Heads were turning as everyone tried to get the best view.

All eyes were on Jimin.

“It’s him.” A young boy next to Yoongi exclaimed and squeezed himself in front of him, eyes wide and mouth opened in surprise. “Who?” His friend followed him close, apologizing quietly to Yoongi when he bumped into him. “The one I told you about! I want to be like him so bad!” He answered and pulled his friend up to the front row so he could see the performance perfectly. To say Yoongi was confused would have been an understatement. Or maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but suddenly everyone around him seemed to talk about Jimin. The boy he found crying in the bathrooms, wanting to quit because he had forgotten his shoes. It just didn’t add up. There were too many voices, too many information’s pouring down on him and he couldn’t process one bit of them as he tried to keep his gaze on Jimin - just like he had promised.

“If he wins this again it would be the third time in a row.” Yoongi shook his head, looking at the man that passed and said it so nonchalantly. But hadn’t Jimin said that it was his third time competing in this competition? That would mean…

“Do you think he’ll give me an autograph?” A what? Yoongi snapped around to that person, whose eyes were shining while they followed Jimin as he walked up on stage. “Why is he barefoot?” Another one asked and Yoongi turned back to Jimin, trying to concentrate on him and solely him. “He lost weight again, right? And he dyed his hair. I loved his pink hair.” Yoongi gulped.

“So, that’s what he looks like,” A group of dancers came closer, all eyes on stage where Jimin was getting into position. “I think he’s overrated. This whole ‘I don’t show my face’ thing is just...” He rolled his eyes. “What even is he trying to keep up with his mystery. He should be showing off, don’t you think?” The other dancer just shrugged their shoulders, crossing their arms in front of their chest. “I think he’s amazing. I wouldn’t hide if I were Park Jimin.”

“Especially not when all of the rappers are drooling over me. Last time, they were all up Taemin’s face because he knows Jimin. You don’t want to know how many asked for Jimin's number. It was so annoying.” His friend chuckled, “What would I give to be him. And he doesn’t even care. He never shows up at the after party.” Their chatter died down and the whole gym hall went quiet when the music started.

All eyes were focused on the stage and on Jimin, whose expression completely changed with the first beat of the music. The unsure gaze was replaced with a dark gaze, smile turned into a wicked smirk as he licked over his lips sultrily. His walk oozing confidence and Jimin raked a hand through his hair, showing off his sharp jawline (the girl next to Yoongi had to hold onto her friend, looking as if she was about to faint). Perfectly timed on the music, Jimin snapped his head around and winked, just right before the beat dropped and the crowd went crazy.

Whoever this was, this wasn’t sweet Jimin anymore.

Jimin was completely gone in his own world, in which he didn’t need to think about insecurities or shoes that he had forgotten but simply dance. His routine had started off with a rough hip-hop beat, hyping up the crowd perfectly when it suddenly changed. Yoongi felt whiplash. The audience was going crazy, when Jimin lost his jacket, throwing it somewhere and then the isolated and fast dance moves were now replaced with something much softer. Jimin was one with the music and Yoongi had never seen something as beautiful as this, recognizing some of the movements he had done in the locker room. He was about to convince himself that this was just a beautiful dream, that something as mesmerizing as this couldn’t exist in the rough world he was living in, maybe he was still in bed and it was the day before the competition, when Jimin’s eyes met his. For a second, the insecure boy was back, searching his eyes to reassure himself and Yoongi smiled.

He was the anchor Jimin needed whenever he was at risk of losing his confidence which luckily wasn’t that often. Yoongi was pretty sure that people who didn’t know Park Jimin, who hadn’t seen him like he had wouldn’t even recognize the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes or the shape of his mouth.

“Ah, I see this is why you’re here,” A familiar voice next to Yoongi startled him effectively as the song faded out. There was silence for a couple of seconds, where Jimin bowed and then the crowd suddenly went crazy. People cheering loudly, but Jimin doesn’t seem to notice it. The anxious gaze was back, a faint, nervous smile and then Jimin turned around. Yoongi’s eyes followed the dancer who hurried off the stage to get some air into his lungs and only then he looked at his friend - Hoseok. “Fuck, man. We’ve been looking for you!” Hoseok nudged his side, “You okay there? I see you found something to get your mind off things?”

“I.. I was just..,” Yoongi cut himself off as he saw the knowing smirk on Hoseok's face. Babbling like an idiot wouldn't convince Hoseok that he had just been ‘chilling’ like he had tried to make it seem. He probably had seen him staring at Jimin in awe already. So, he just shrugged his shoulder. “ I needed something beautiful, so I went to see the dancers. Why were you searching for me? Are you already lost without me?”

“Yeah, do whatever, man. We’re on in thirty minutes, that’s why I’m here. You better be there or Namjoon will behead you.” Hoseok patted his shoulder, cocking up an eyebrow, “You know how nervous Namjoon can get and I don’t want him to accidentally break a microphone. That’s your job to piss of the tec’s. After that there will be enough time to drool over the dancers.” His friend chuckled low at the many memories of Yoongi mic dropping and giving everyone at the venue a heart attack. “So, you coming?”

 “Yeah, sure…,” He went along but his eyes weren’t on Hoseok or the direction he was walking, he was looking at the part of the gym where the dancers were mingling, trying to find Jimin and give him a sign that he had to leave. He didn’t want the other to think that he had just run off. Though hopefully Jimin would get it himself that he had needed to change positions and get ready for his own stage.

Jimin had seen Yoongi leave with a weird feeling in his heart. He waved awkwardly but Yoongi had already turned around.

Now he was alone again.

There were people congratulating him, strangers patting his shoulders and Jimin nodded, thanking them politely – but he didn’t want to stay and watch the competition any longer. He wanted to be somewhere else. With someone else.

“Park Jimin?” A man in a suit smiled at him and Jimin bowed in respect, knowing immediately how important that man was when his eyes flickered down to his press ID card hanging around his neck. Jimin looked nervously over his shoulder, biting his lip. He could see the other hall from where he stood. Could hear that someone was beatboxing, people waving their hands to the beat of the music at the rap competition. His heart began to race. He wanted to watch Yoongi so badly.

“Y-yes, that’s me.”

...

Yoongi warmed up his voice with a few casual raps, lines flowing more quickly the longer he rapped. Now that he wasn���t focusing on Jimin any longer he could feel his own ‘stage butterflies’ fluttering in his stomach, telling him that even though he had been on countless stages the nerves still tingled within him at the thought of basically spilling his thoughts and feelings in front of so many people.

Hoseok was rolling his head, jumping on the spot a couple of times. “You’re going to win this.” He kissed Yoongi on top of his head, very well aware that his friend hated this. “If not…I will tell everyone you sleep with a bunny cushion.” The announcer was calling out Yoongi and his opponent, hyping up the crowd and Hoseok smiled. “So, you better win this, baby!”

“You asshole!” He pushed Hoseok, no real venom behind it. He had way too many blackmail material on Hoseok as well so the other would never risk spilling anything if he wanted Yoongi to keep his secrets.

But it was enough to light the spark in Yoongi, the one he needed to spit fire on stage.

…

Jimin took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he leaned back his head. The sun was setting low, dipping the buildings around in a beautiful light and Jimin yawned. It had been a long day, one that had started out awful but turned into something beautiful. Something that made him feel light.

He had made a few mistakes in his routines, movements he needed to work on but Jimin didn’t feel the urge to drive back to his dance studio and do it immediately. Most of the dancers were already out, either back in their homes or hotels to get themselves ready for the night. Jimin had never been interested in the after-show parties. He didn’t care much about anything but dance, actually. At least until today. The doors opened again, and a bunch of people stormed out, some with medals around their necks, some discussing vividly, while others just simply parted ways. Jimin bit his bottom lip, trying to adjust his hold around two cups of coffee he was holding, trying not to lose the bag around his shoulder while also holding on to a trophy. He wouldn’t dare to let anything of it fall. He’d rather let his hands get burned from the hot coffee.

Yoongi was animatedly talking to his friends, all of them still on their post-stage high and with their medals in hand. In the end it hadn’t been enough for first place, but a medal was a medal and it was only pushing Yoongi further, making him want to work harder so that next time they would get the gold medal for sure.

The boys had persuaded him to go with them to the after competition party. Normally he didn’t like them as he wanted to go over their stage again, write new lyrics because he felt so inspired, fixing mistakes, listening to all the new music he had discovered during the competition, that kind of thing. Though he figured that if he went along then maybe, just maybe he had a slight chance of seeing Jimin again. Maybe this time he would be there, too? Speaking of which… he stopped short when he saw the younger standing at the entrance, two coffees in hand (which promptly resulted in someone running into him because there were so many people trying to get out the entrance). Who was Jimin waiting for? Would he get picked up by someone from his dance team? A trainer?

When Yoongi noticed him, Jimin’s heart skipped a beat and the younger instantly smiled at him. He couldn’t wave with everything in his hands, so he waited awkwardly but Yoongi wasn’t making any moves to come closer. He sighed.

“These are getting kind of hot!” Jimin called out for him, motioning to the cup of coffees, giggling softly in the process when it took a moment for it to click with Yoongi.

“Wh...oh!” He awkwardly started moving again into the opposite directions of his friends who were stopping and looking at their conversation with confusion written all over their faces (except Hobi who wore a shit eating grin). “Sorry, I didn’t realize...” He gingerly took one of the cups from Jimin, avoiding the other’s eyes as it suddenly became a little harder to breathe. “I thought you were waiting for a friend.” His gaze trailed down until it landed on the trophy. “I see you won the competition. Again. Your fans must go crazy right now.”

“Who is that?” Namjoon asked, eyes scanning the young dancer and then Yoongi’s reaction, but before he could ask more Hoseok already pulled him along. “Yoongi, you still coming right? Yoongi? Yon-,” Namjoon got caught off by Hoseok who pushed him forward, telling him kindly to shut and let Yoongi be.

“My what? Again? Who told you?” Jimin laughed and shook his head, awkwardly holding onto the trophy. “Yeah, I was waiting for you, actually…” Jimin blushed, “Hope that’s okay? Not weird or anything? I wouldn’t have made it without you, so this is as much yours as it is mine. And I couldn’t say ‘thank you’, yet…so, the coffee is yours.” Averting his gaze, Jimin blinked into the distance, not sure what to say, “I…I saw you. On stage, I mean.”

“Basically, everyone around me when I was standing in the crowd. I learned a lot of things. How you drink your coffee. What you think about after parties. How cute you looked in pink hair.” He was shamelessly teasing the younger just to see the cute flustered expression on him again. It was totally worth it. “Thank you.” Yoongi took a sip from his coffee while trying to figure out how to say that he would have preferred his phone number as thanks without being creepy when Jimin’s added comment had him freezing. “On stage? You mean you watched me…” There was a shy smile stealing its way on his lips and he quickly hid it in the coffee cup.

“Yes, in my opinion you would have deserved to win.” Jimin nodded eagerly, “You were amazing, and you definitely told those people off who made you feel like shit before. They will watch out for you now.” The younger noticed the smile on Yoongi’s face nonetheless and mimicked it. Adjusting his trophy again (seriously, who thought making them so big and obnoxious was a good idea) Jimin pointed somewhere behind him, “Usually, I go back to my dance studio now…work on the mistakes I made and everything b-but I thought…m-maybe, if you want to and are not busy. I could understand if you want to go to the party or something, but I would have liked to ask you if…”

“If…what?” Yoongi’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. He could feel the butterflies in his stomach again just that this time they weren’t because of a competition. “If you…” Jimin sighed, taking a deep breath, “If you want to come with me? Not for polishing my mistakes but…the coffee machine in our studio is really, really good and if we go up a few floors you have a great view over the skyline.” His eyes flickered nervously as he waited for an answer, heart jumping in his chest.

“Well, I already got some great coffee thanks to a certain someone…,” He tipped his cup a little, “...but how can I say no to a beautiful view?” He let his eyes linger on Jimin, making it clear that he wasn’t talking about the skyline here.

Jimin smiled at the rapper and then leaned in without any hesitation. He just let his heart decide for once. This time he didn’t kiss Yoongi on his cheek but on the corner of his lips. A kiss, barely there, too soft to be true. Then he let his hand fall down to Yoongi’s and took his hand again to lead the way. “I just wanted to say, ‘thank you’ properly.”

Pulling the rapper along and into the opposite direction of where he had initially gone with his friends, Jimin couldn’t help but laugh softly at the rosy blush on Yoongi’s cheeks. “Your friends won’t mind if you come with me instead?”

“Ah, no, they won’t mind.” Yoongi turned back to check on them and saw Hobi waving him goodbye in a nonverbal way of saying ‘what are you still doing here? Go with him - and tell me everything tomorrow!’

“Let’s go see your studio then.” He couldn't wait to get to know even more of Jimin.

A/N: Our second story for the Yoonmin Event :) Cat and I hope you liked it! ♡

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[childofthenight2035]

Letters To Who You Were

A/N: This is a Chan fic that I thought of writing for a helluva time now, so enjoy! Don’t forget to check out my masterlist! Unrequested

Pairing: Bang Chan x gn!Reader

Summary/Prompt: You receive letters from someone you’re sure you don’t know.

Genre: Angst, Confusion, Time travel, Fluff(?)

Word Count: 12.6k

Warnings: Mentions of death, depression

-

Bloody Mondays. You hated them.

Chucking the alarm across the room and satisfying yourself with the sound of the battery falling out, you heaved yourself onto your elbows, staring at the pillow groggily.

“Why?” you whined, throwing off the covers and sitting up.

You squinted at the curtains, knowing the sky was too dark to get up, but you had to. You had class. Anthropology of all things. Eight o’clock. Ugh. You loved the subject, but not at six in the morning.

Your bus was at four past seven. You needed to get the heck up.

After a quick shower and a banana, you stumbled out of the apartment, still pulling your shoes on. You set your foot down and realized that you were not, in fact, standing on the cement floor of the landing. You were standing on something else. Paper. A couple envelopes lay under your shoe. Cursing, you bent down to retrieve them and continued your dash to the bus stop.

You managed to catch the bus, after all. Quite the day’s work.

Huffing, out of breath, you collapsed into a window seat towards the middle of the bus. The letters were still clutched in your hand. Flipping them over, you observed what was written on the front. One had the stamp of the Water Authorities on it. Clearly your water bill. You didn’t even want to know. Stuffing it into your backpack, you focused on the other one. It wasn’t official. Your address was handwritten on it. No sender’s name. No return address on the envelope. Hm.

You tore it open. In (somewhat) neat handwriting, was a letter. Addressed to you.

Y/N,

You’ve probably forgotten me. But you’ll remember—through these letters.

 What the heck? You’ve probably forgotten this person? Childhood friend? Okay…

 We’ve been through so much in the year that we were together. It seems like only yesterday. It’s already been a year but I don’t think that I could ever forget you. Not the way you sleep with your limbs splayed out like a starfish; not the way your eyes crinkle when you smile; not the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re nervous. I could never forget all that.

 Whoa. Wait. Smiling and chewing your lip was one thing; but you did sleep like that. Who could possibly know—was this your old roommate or somebody, pranking you? What did they mean, in the year we were together?

 You’ll think I’m crazy. I know. You’ll claim that you don’t know who I am. But I’m not crazy. I’m the sanest person in the room right now.

Have you gotten that raise yet? I may be a little off, but if you haven’t, then I think you’ll get it within the week. It looks like a good week, huh? I know getting an A in your anthropology class isn’t easy. I’m proud of you.

I realize you must be confused now, but I promise you that you’ll understand. Just give me some time, for once. You were always so busy. Is that why we couldn’t make it? Is that why you couldn’t afford a second chance?

Read these letters now. Someday we’ll meet.

Chris

 Hold up. You didn’t know any Chris. Your previous roommate definitely didn’t go by Chris. Maybe Gail, when she was drunk, but Chris? Who’s that? Also, when had you ever gotten an A in anthropology? It wasn’t that easy, especially not for you. And you’ve never gotten a raise yet. What the fuck was going on?

You read the last paragraph again. Just give me some time, for once? Well damn. Ouch. Sorry. Is that why we couldn’t make it? Make it? Make what?

This was going to drive you crazy the whole day, you just knew it.

You slowly closed the letter, troubled. Were your friends pranking you? Was that what this was? Putting it into your bag, you zipped it shut and stared out the window. Youngjae had asked you for your address recently. Hey, maybe that was it! So he was pranking you, huh? Maybe they were all in it together? You relaxed. That’s what it is. Idiots.

…

“Yah, Youngjae.” You plunked a hand onto his desk and pointed at his face. “What do you think you’re playing at?”

His eyebrows disappeared into his bangs, grabbing your finger and twisting it so you squirmed in pain. “What do you think you’re playing at, huh, disrespecting me?”

He let go of your finger and you slid into the seat next to him.

“It’s a weak idea, bro. Come on, why prank someone if they can tell it’s a prank right away?”

He looked confused. “Prank? What prank? On who?”

You tsked. “Come on, man, April Fools’ is months away. Give up.”

He stilled, glancing around like he thought you were crazy and wanted a quick escape. “I honestly don’t have a clue what you’re saying.”

Your smile faltered. “You didn’t send that letter? Or Jisung? Or Minho? Or even Yeji?”

“What letter? Y/N, are you okay?”

You searched his eyes for any sign, his lips for an uncontrolled twitching, his hands for nervous fiddling. Nothing. You silently brought out the letter and showed it to him, crossing your arms and watching for a change of expression as he read it. Nope. Only confusion.

“What the heck is this?” he asked you curiously. “Who’s Chris?”

You slumped. “I thought one of you guys might have sent that as a prank.”

He handed it back to you. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you asked for my address last week!” you defended.

He threw his hands up. “That was for the ad you asked me to put in the campus paper for a roommate!”

“Oh.” You pouted, sitting straight, facing the front of the class. Your anthropology professor hadn’t yet come in, and the students were being loud. As usual.

“And besides,” he added, nudging you in the ribs (‘ow!’), “I wouldn’t go as far as even imply you got an A in anthropology, like, what even—hey!” You swiped his pen from where he was doodling on his notebook.

“You’re being mean.”

“I’m telling the truth. You know it. Give me my pen back.”

“Silence!” A voice boomed. The entire class rushed back to their seats or straightened up or shut their mouths. Youngjae took the chance and stole his pen. Your professor gazed around at all of you, her expression stern and disapproving. “I have your exams graded.” A collective groan sounded around the room. “The overall performance is lower than usual—“ your heart sank, “—but some of you have done better than I thought.” She proceeded to sit at her desk and call out the names. She also had the irritating habit some teachers have of announcing the grade as well. Your heartbeat was already picking up pace.

“Jacob! B, better than I expected, good….Eric! C, you can do better than this….Kevin.” You cringed at her expression, feeling desperately sorry for him. “D. You didn’t open your book at all, did you?”

Four names later, “ Youngjae! A, good work.”

“As usual,” you grumbled, but feeling proud of him nevertheless. He worked for it. You squeezed his arm when he came back to sit with his paper.

“Y/N!” You stood, hearing Youngjae whisper a ‘good luck’. You made your way to the front of the class, heart pounding. Your professor looked up at you and you winced apologetically for the abomination that was your paper. “A.”

What. Wait, what?

“What?” You accidentally blurted out. She smiled thinly.

“Well done. Keep it up.” She handed you your paper and you traipsed back to your seat, your head throbbing, unaware of the eyes on you.

“Oh my gosh you got an A,” Youngjae muttered, seizing your paper and staring at it like he couldn’t believe his ears or his eyes.

“I did. I got an A.” Your voice came out awed, in a hushed tone, drowned out by the sound of your classmates meeting their fates. A particular sentence, scrawled onto paper, read on a moving bus, flashed from your memory banks. You gasped. “ Youngjae!”

Yanking the letter from under your desk, you spread it out on the table. Youngjae understood what you meant just from glancing at it.

It looks like a good week, huh? I know getting an A in your anthropology class isn’t easy. I’m proud of you.

“Whoa.” He was shocked, too, but quickly composed his flow of reason. “Someone saw your grades. That’s the only explanation.”

“It’s still creepy,” you countered, falling silent and putting both papers away as your professor stood to teach. Still weird.

…

“I asked the others if they sent any letter; they didn’t,” Youngjae informed you, huffing as he and Jisung caught up with you on the way to Sociology after his Korean language class. You groaned.

“It’s not my old roommate Jeongyeon either, I called her.” You scratched the back of your neck. “This feels weird! Someone who’s close enough to know how I sleep? To notice me so well that they know how I smile? How I chew on my lip?” You shuddered. “Do I have a stalker? This is scary now. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Well, someone could know you sleep like that from that pic of all of us sleeping on Minho’s Instagram,” Jisung suggested. “But what if it was a one-time thing? You’re right, I think you have a stalker.”

You grabbed Youngjae’s arm. “Could you stay with me, then? Until I find another roommate?”

“Wait, but what if your new roommate turns out to be your stalker? Oh, that would be epic.” Jisung pressed his hands together and rubbed them.

“Jisung, not helping!”

“Y/N, you know we hostel people aren’t allowed to stay anywhere else without permission unless it’s break,” Youngjae explained patiently. “One night might be okay, but if it’s more than that, they’ll chuck us out and honestly, I don’t think I could afford off-campus housing right now. And my parents wouldn’t like it.”

“I’m technically broke now, so…” Jisung trailed off. “You know my parents aren’t sponsoring me this year since I told them I’m dropping English and taking Music. Until I prove that I’m good at it.”

“I know, I know,” you sighed, regretting having brought it up. “It’s okay. It’s probably just Jeongyeon and she doesn’t want to admit it. But then, how did she know I got an A?”

…

Two days later, you practically flew into your Anthropology class, to find Youngjae.

“Whoa, what happened, calm down!” he exclaimed as you dropped into your seat. “What happened, Y/N?”

You steadied your breathing, a hand on your heaving chest. “I…I got a raise.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you serious?” When you nodded, he broke into a smile. “That’s great news! I thought that coffee place never gave anyone raises!” You didn’t react. He faltered, looking at your tense expression. “What’s the matter—oh.” You pursed your lips. He finally remembered. “The letter.”

“How could anyone have known that?” You were chewing on your lip again and Youngjae tapped your chin, reminding you to stop before you tore the skin open.

“Does anyone there know a Chris?”

“The manager’s sister has a son named Chris, I asked. But,” you added quickly so Youngjae wouldn’t overreact, “they live abroad. And how would they know me?”

Youngjae sat back in his chair, thinking. “Hmm. Whoever’s writing it knows English well, but from the seals of the post office, I don’t think it’s international mail.” He waved it away. “Don’t think about that now. Did you put up the flyers in the coffee shop?”

“Yes, sir, I did.” You were grateful. “Thanks for getting Yugyeom to make them for me. Although I guess you should be thanking me for a chance to go to him, huh?”

“What?” he spluttered, smacking your arm. “I said I don’t like him, okay?”

“I know.” You smiled smugly, satisfied at the red blush dusting his cheeks. “You love him.”

…

On Thursday, it happened again.

Your classes were only in the afternoon, so you didn’t rush. But the floor in front of your door presented you with another letter. You brought it in, curiously. You hadn’t thrown away the first letter, even though you had the strangest urge to do so. Instead, you kept it in a box on top of your fridge.

You tore the new letter open. In the same handwriting, it read:

Y/N,

Yesterday was my sister’s wedding. I had no idea that she had invited you, but now that I think of it, I’m not very surprised. She was always fond of you. She took your side even when we fought, did you know that?

I don’t think you saw me. I got one glimpse of you and I ran. I’m a coward. But, did you, perhaps, know somehow that I was there and that I was looking for you? Were you looking for me?

Disgrace. That’s what my mother said to me. That I’m a disgrace. Just because I didn’t have the courage to greet guests and risk you seeing me, just because I can’t stick to something for long, because I’m a loser. And I don’t blame her.

Is it just me? Am I the only one hurting? Seeing you so happy hurts me. It makes me think that this fight isn’t affecting you at all. I can’t help it. I’m selfish.

My sister says that you were so polite and wanted to see me. She says that if only I had come out to talk to you, things would have been alright. Now I wish I had. Maybe I wouldn’t need to write anymore letters if I did.

I wonder if you kept that painting you said your friend gave you on your birthday. And speaking of birthdays, I hope you have a terrific one. You deserve nothing but the best.

It’s difficult. It’s like talking to a person with amnesia. Writing to a person who doesn’t know who’s writing to them is confusing. I know. There are things that I can’t say. But you’re smart. You’ll figure it out eventually.

Chris

 You were beyond confused now. You were thoroughly disturbed. You had not gone to a wedding. You knew no girl whose brother was called Chris. You had not received any painting for your birthday. It was next week, so maybe you would? But how would Chris know that? If he even was called Chris?

Beyond all that, what scared you was that you felt this. You could feel the hurt in it. You could feel it as if it was…your own.

The words that called himself a loser, a coward, a disgrace…you understood. But what was the next part about? Him asking if the fight was only affecting him but not you? What fight? What on earth was going on? He wished he had talked to me; he wouldn’t have needed to write any more letters if he had?  And that last paragraph? It’s difficult. It’s like talking to a person with amnesia. Writing to a person who doesn’t know who’s writing to them is confusing. I know. There are things that I can’t say. But you’re smart. You’ll figure it out eventually.

So he knew that you had no clue who he was. From the last letter, you assumed that it was a person you had forgotten about, but this one implied that you had never known him? There were things he couldn’t say? You would figure it out eventually?

What?

…

From the look on your face, Youngjae knew something was up. When he asked, you only pulled out the letter. He groaned.

“That ass wrote again? This is some elaborate prank, huh?” He took the letter, still chuckling, but as his eyes scanned the paper, his smile disappeared.

You didn’t speak, upset that you didn't understand what was going on, upset that someone was clearly having some fun at your expense, but also upset that, at the same time, it didn’t feel like a joke. This felt personal and…real.

“Oh my god.” His little whisper had your attention on him.

“What? What is it?”

Youngjae didn’t seem to hear you. “How the hell…who could have known about that…”

“ Youngjae, what’s wrong?”

He reluctantly pointed at a sentence in the letter. “That’s…that’s me. I’m that friend. I just bought you a painting for your birthday next week. How the hell….” He trailed off, astounded.

You were speechless. Okay, that was scary.

“Damn it,” he spat, banging his fist on the desk, startling some students in the class. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“ Youngjae, I still haven’t seen it, so it is still a surprise,” you reassured. “And I think that’s not as important as the fact that this person might be stalking you too.”

Youngjae had his focused face on, probably thinking who could have had the chance to see what he bought for you. “Minho wouldn’t do that, right?” he asked quietly, referring to his roommate at the dorms, the second oldest in your group. You shook your head.

“Minho’s petty, but I don’t think he would go this far for a joke. No one else knows about the painting?”

“Other than the guy at the store, I don’t think so.” He ran a hand through his hair, agitated.

Both of you were too disturbed to communicate throughout the lesson, you almost blacking out when the prof asked you something.

“It’s not even details like that,” you told him after class, walking across campus to his dorms. “ Youngjae, when I read that letter, I felt it. It hurt me. It was like I knew this person, but my brain is struggling to remember who he is. It felt real.” You grasped his arm. “I haven’t been in like, some accident and lost my memory, right?”

Youngjae laughed at your comment, some of the tension dissipating. “Of course not, dumbass. As if we would let you.”

…

Another letter was waiting for you on Tuesday. The weekend had flown by with your coursework and your job, but luckily you had managed to complete everything.

You tore open the letter, glancing at the other two in the box on the fridge; two letters you had read over and over again, hoping for some meaning to this. The third letter wasn’t addressed to you by name.

 Red.

That was my favourite colour.

The moments until the ice broke between us were so awkward and cliché. You even popped the favourite colour question. I’ve never understood why that question became the standard first when getting to know someone. Can you automatically analyse a person  based on their favourite colour?

You told me yours and then asked for mine. I scoffed at you. I didn’t feel like telling you, right? Don’t you remember? I told you, “Guess.” And then I had to endure you following me around and naming random colours. And then you asked me why.

 His favourite colour was red. Nothing very special in that. But he was talking to you with such a sense of familiarity, as if the two of you had actually been close once upon a time. There was such…nostalgia in what he said. And he was asking if you remembered? No, Chris, you didn’t.

 Red showed me passion. It showed me heat and power and rage: just like the sun. Because I wanted to shine. I wanted my name on billboards and neon signs, spelling it out in fierce red letters. Red reminded me of the deep maroon stain on the carpet in the living room, the stain that you made by dropping a scented liquid candle on it in your first year. Red showed me blood and it reminded me of my heartbeat and how I’m still alive.

 You let out a shaky exhale at the words, both awed by the poetry in them and frightened at the fact that there was, in fact, a stain on the carpet in the living room made by you dropping a candle on the floor. This person knows you here, knows you now. And that was scarier than ever. Up until now, you had the chance that he was someone you knew long ago who decided to fuck with you with knowing your grades, had a pull with the coffee shop owner and saw your best friend buying you a painting. But now…the paper crinkled from how tightly you were holding it. This person knows you in this time of your life. He’s been to your apartment and knows how you sleep. And yet…as much as this makes you afraid, you can sense that he’s hurting. He doesn’t mean harm.

 Red reminded me of your blush.

Red is no longer my favourite colour. It stopped being so when you walked out the door with your suitcase and your tears. And without my apology.

My favourite colour is grey.

I see nothing but it nowadays. There’s no black or white anymore. It’s only grey. No clear differences, just a mess of confusion. Who was right? Were my actions justified? Were yours? What have you believed in the year you refused to speak to me?

Stagnant. Disinterested. That’s what my life is like without your presence. How did I ever think I could manage without you?

I’m weak. Too weak.

Chris

 Against your will, a tear escaped the corner of your eyes.

“Why am I crying?” you mumbled, wiping your face with the sleeve of your sweater. Your heart ached; your mind was searching again, searching for a face, an identity, but you were clawing blindly in the dark, only gaps where information should have been.

You and Chris had clearly fought. You walked out with your suitcase and your tears…and that meant you lived together. Was it here? In this apartment? You definitely haven’t had a roommate called Chris. Briefly, you wondered if this was addressed to another Y/N who had lived here with him long before you came, but the details proved otherwise. This person was watching you, here, now.

His life was stagnant without you. Was this person delusional? Crazy? Was your presence just in his head? What did he think of you, exactly? What was the nature of your relationship with him, in his head, at least?

You didn’t know. And if he was insane, you weren’t sure you even wanted to know.

…

Your heart broke at lying to Youngjae. When he asked you if you had any more letters, you shook your head.

“Maybe he’s given up,” you said cheerily, aware of the way Youngjae was observing you.

Well, maybe you should have known that lying to your best friend doesn’t get you very far.

“I’m not pressing you for information, Y/N,” he said gently. “I’m just saying, we’re all here for you. You don’t have to do anything alone.”

…

 Your birthday party passed in a haze. It wasn’t really a party, just you and your circle of friends chilling at your apartment, and them emptying your kitchen of food.

Youngjae gifted you a Van Gogh painting. Or, a copy of a Van Gogh painting, you should say. It was clear that both of you remembered Chris’ letter, but you laughed it off, saying that at least Chris didn’t tell you which one it was.

Jisung presented you with a track he had composed for you in his class. He winced, knowing that he was being cheap, but you hugged him gratefully all the same. You would’ve done so even if he hadn’t given you anything. Their presence was enough.

Minho, unfortunately, couldn’t show up, since he had a dance routine due that day, but Yeji showed up, bringing you food that Minho had made the day before, and although it served your friends more than you, you thanked them for it. You blew out a weak candle you had found somewhere in the kitchen while the others sang, your only wish being that you wanted answers to the letters you had been receiving. You cut through a rice cake and stuffed a piece into each of their mouths. And in return, of course, like the great friends they are, shoved a whole rice cake into your mouth and smashed another one on your head.

You didn’t mind. Not too much, at least.

After all, what were friends for?

…

Saturday. You had work in twenty minutes. It was only a five minute walk from your apartment, but you decided to leave early.

You were hardly surprised at a letter on the floor in front of you. It was more of anticipation. Anxiety. Fear. But you picked it up nevertheless.

It was a dull cloudy day that reminded you of the winter that was to come. As much as you were excited about snow days and Christmas, the cold was really a bitch. Ripping the envelope open, you pulled out the letter and began your walk to the coffee shop.

 Y/N,

There are fifty thousand things I want to tell you, but nothing more than this: I miss you.

Don’t you remember?

You would force open my door at two in the morning and wallop me with your pillow because I was snoring so loudly that you couldn’t sleep. But hey, you were worse. I remember you one night, yelling in your sleep that you needed a pencil. Were you dreaming about your finals? I don’t know. You had no memory of whatever it was the next morning.

 Despite the cold, despite your nerves, you couldn’t help but smile fondly at his words. You’d been told before, that you sometimes talked in your sleep, but couldn’t recall ever yelling for a pencil. No one had told you that, at least. This definitely confirmed that you had shared living space with him, whether as a friend, or as a roommate, or even…a boyfriend? Your eyes ran over three words again: I miss you. And then he asked, don’t you remember?

“I wish I did,” you whispered bitterly. “I really wish I did.”

 I still remember the night you found the courage to come to me because it was a terrible thunderstorm and you were scared. I wanted to make fun of you, but the look on your face stopped me. I’m glad I didn’t. That night you began to trust me. We stayed up all night through that storm, do you remember anything? There was the loudest clap of thunder and the power went out. Neither of us said it, but I knew we were afraid. We sat there on the sofa in silence, in the dark, until you suddenly spoke: “Please tell me we’re not going to die.” And I started laughing. And that was all. The ice was broken.

 “Oh.” You were probably just roommates. That night you began to trust me. “Wait, what am I saying?” you questioned yourself. “I’ve never had a roommate called Chris. Why am I acting like I do?” You smacked the side of your head. “Snap out of it.”

But even still, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you did know him.

 But I never got around to telling you it. When the thunder died away, I forgot that there might be more storms to come. I never told you we weren’t going to die. And now I think that I’m going back on that promise I never made.

I can see those thunderclouds again, Y/N. I hate this. I hate my life. I hate a life without you.

Chris

 You were outside the shop now. You swallowed your emotions down, taking a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. Calm down, Y/N. It’s just some deranged psycho writing letters to someone he thinks he knows. Relax. You don’t know him.

.

Seungmin, another barista, waved to you as you entered. You returned the gesture, stowing your jacket away and putting on your apron.

“You okay? You look sick,” he commented as you washed your hands.

“Just the cold, I’m okay.” You glanced at the your flyer pinned to the bulletin board across the room. Seungmin noticed where your eyes were.

“Oh, by the way,” he continued, gesturing to the ad, “you know my friend Hyunjin, right?” You nodded. “He’s kinda looking for a place to stay.”

Intrigued, you perked up your ears. “Yeah? Tell him to call me.”

“Are animals allowed?”

“No. My landlord is pretty strict about that.”

“Ah.” His shoulders slumped. “Never mind, then. Hyunjin won’t leave his dog behind.”

You smiled gently, recalling the time Hyunjin had brought his little black and white puppy into the coffee shop for about fifteen minutes before the manager saw and threw them out. “It’ll work out somehow. He’ll find a place.”

“Hm. I guess so.”

The ringing of the bell indicated someone had just walked in. Taking a glance at the door, you smirked. “I think you should take this order, Seungminnie. I’ll be out back.”

Seungmin looked up from where he was trying to solve the crossword (which he simply never can) and saw Jeongin, a freshman that he had been long crushing on. He threw you a dirty look that didn’t hide his blush and reluctantly moved to the counter to take the kid’s order—hopefully without making himself look like a fool.

You busied yourself in the kitchen, making way for the deliverers bringing the day’s pastries. Half your mind was on the letter and every time you thought about it, a weight pressed down on your chest. It was a horrible feeling. You couldn’t wait to get to the bottom of this. None of the others knew you had been receiving more letters. Youngjae probably sensed that you had, but you weren’t about to involve him in it. This felt too personal to share with even him.

You sighed. This entire ordeal was eating you alive and you felt helpless in it.

…

There was no letter the next week. Chris seemed to have finally fallen silent. And you didn’t want to admit how attached you had already gotten, from just four letters. It was a sort of feeling you couldn’t control. You wanted to be scared, you wanted to burn the letters and pretend they never existed, but something warned you not to. Something told you that you might need them, sooner or later.

He took up most of your time; most of the thoughts in your brain had something to do with him. You wondered what he might look like, what kind of person he was. There was a lot about you in the letters, but precious little about him. He was observant. He was lyrical. Poetic. Emotional. Ambitious. What did he like to do? What was his passion? What relationship did he think the two of you had? You couldn’t help but wonder.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you sometimes addressed him when you talked to yourself around the apartment. For you, he was associated with only you, only these rooms. Maybe that was one reason you didn’t share this with the others. Chris seemed to belong to only you. Only known to you. And at some point, you would begin to feel like you only belonged to him. Whoever he was. You wished you only knew.

…

The next Saturday was a work day for you. There was no letter in front of your door when you left, but when you returned after a hectic day and rude customers, just wishing for peace, you were surprised to see an envelope with familiar writing scrawled across it. Snatching it up immediately, you dashed inside to read it.

 Y/N,

Do you remember the first time you spoke to me about your parents? It was so sudden. I didn’t know what brought it on. One moment you were busy around the kitchen and the next you were on the floor crying. The only thing that I could understand was that they had called, your mother said something and you were upset.

You went into a pathetic rant about how your parents had locked you in the four walls of your home, not bothering to listen to you, emotionally abusing you because they wouldn’t listen to you about your stress. I honestly didn’t know what to do. I could only hold you as you cried your heart out on my shirt.

 Your breath hitched.

This…this was real. This was too real. That was exactly how you felt. Even you couldn’t have organized your thoughts so well. How does Chris know me so well? Who are you? Already tears were forming at the corner of your eye at the emotion you felt from reading those sentences about your parents.

 Would you believe it if I saw you as cold and distant until that day? We were always civil, but you seemed shut off, closed to me. I know that you didn’t mean it. I realized that you were scared to open up. I can understand how hurt you must have been when your parents refused to care.

I can only say the same thing that I said then: They may never understand you, they may never accept you, but it doesn’t matter. There is enough love in the world that you are not at all restricted to seeking support from your family. That’s why humans can pack bond. There are people who know what you’re going through, and if there isn’t anyone else, I will be here. I always will.

 You choked back a sob. Whatever your rational brain said, you knew that Chris wasn’t out to hurt you. It was as if he knew what you were going through, and wanted to reassure you despite you not knowing him. You were grateful for that, regardless.

 Is it weird? Is it awkward that you know me but at the same time you don’t? Will you not be suspicious when you see me? I don’t even know if you will. I don’t know if I’ve messed things up by writing this. But even if I have, it’s okay. If it means that you’ll be alive, then I’ll be okay not having you as a friend. Even if we’re awkward and don’t get closer, it’s okay. I’m scared of what will happen if we do. I’m scared of getting stuck in this vicious cycle. It’s better if you stay away and survive than get to know me and ruin your life.

Chris

 Wait. Wait. Let’s try that again.

Is it awkward that you know me but at the same time you don’t? Yes. It is awkward, Chris. Am I living in some parallel dimension where I don’t know you but you’re living in the other side where I do know you?

Will you not be suspicious when you see me? When, you noticed. Not if. You paused, staring at the paper in your hands. When I see him? So you were right? You’ve never seen him? Or at least, you haven’t seen him recently? Yes, Chris, it will be suspicious. If I ever do see you, you better have some answers. How do you know all this when we haven’t met?

I don’t even know if you will. I don’t know if I’ve messed things up by writing this. Okay, now he doesn’t know if I will see him. What does he mean by messed things up? What has he messed up other than my sanity?

But even if I have, it’s okay. If it means that you’ll be alive, then I’ll be okay not having you as a friend. You noticed that your fingers were trembling. You tried to calm yourself, to understand what he was trying to say. Even if he has messed things up, it’s okay. He will be okay not having me as a friend if it means I will be…alive? Am I not alive?  Your parallel universe explanation popped up again. Am I not alive in his dimension? What?

Even if we’re awkward and don’t get closer, it’s okay. I’m scared of what will happen if we do. So he thinks we’re friends? And he’s scared about my life if I’m his friend? Is he a gangster or mafia leader or something? He’s okay with us not getting closer?

I’m scared of getting stuck in this vicious cycle. Vicious cycle. What cycle? You ran those words through your head, over and over again, trying to make sense of it. They sounded oddly familiar, but you just couldn’t place it. You felt like they were associated with Youngjae, for some reason. But why?

It’s better if you stay away and survive than get to know me and ruin your life. So he’s scared that I’d ruin my life if I got closer to him. And yet, you could almost hear the undertones in that sentence. The bitterness. He wanted to be close to you, desperately. But he was too scared to.

“Why do you have to be so fucking cryptic, Chris?” you mumbled.

You shook your head. You still had no idea what was going on.

…

That afternoon, Minho and Jisung came over to your place without any prior warning. You raised your eyebrows at them when you saw them shivering on your doorstep, backpacks on. They pushed past you into your living room and relished the warmth with loud exclamations of relief.

“Can I help you?” you asked, knowing your idea of peace was shattered. You closed the door before the cold could get in and make things worse.

“ Youngjae hyung kicked us out,” Jisung said, pouting. “He has a math test on Monday and he said he would fail if we kept disturbing him.”

You remembered telling Youngjae so many times to think again before taking math, but then, each to his own. “And you couldn’t stay in your room because…”

“Felix has his boyfriend over,” he explained. “And I’m not particularly fond of watching.”

“So we thought you’d be the best option.” Minho pulled his jacket off and tossed it onto the sofa before trudging to the kitchen.

“What makes you think I’m okay with watching you two?” you retorted, following Minho. You could already hear Jisung turning his laptop on, probably to play a game or watch a movie.

“You’ve been okay with it for seven years now,” Minho shot back, opening the fridge and closing it again in dismay. “You don’t really have much choice.” He stood on his tiptoes to grab at the box on top of the fridge, and you snatched it away in horror.

“What are you looking for?” you snapped, cradling the box in your arms. “You know you can just ask.”

“Don’t you have, like, real food?” He opened the cupboards and, finding a box of pretzels, turned to you in disgust. “Seriously?”

“You don’t have to eat it, you know.”

“Nah, I will. Food is food.” He reached into his backpack, brought out a packet of unpopped popcorn and set it on the counter. “Pop this, will you?” He gathered up the pretzels and the cereal box he found and walked out. You carefully set the box back on the fridge and let out a groan of frustration.

You reluctantly shoved the packet into the microwave and stared at it, still enjoying the ‘pop’ sounds it made. Your mind drifted back to the box on the fridge. You had to admit, you thought about this mysterious Chris more often than you liked.

“Who are you, Chris?” you muttered, eyes still on the spinning paper, your words drowned out by the noise. “Where are you?”

.

You found Minho and Jisung curled up on the sofa, intently watching what you assumed to be a movie. Plopping down on it and carefully setting the popcorn on the table, you peered around Minho at the screen. You were surprised to see that the movie was over halfway done.

“How did you guys watch it this far so fast?” you questioned, settling back into the cushions.

Without even taking his eyes off the screen, Jisung replied, “We were watching this at the dorm when hyung kicked us out.”

Nice. “What are you watching?”

“The Lake House.”

Not very helpful. “What’s it about?”

As Jisung opened his mouth to answer, Minho reached over and slammed the space bar, pausing the movie. Obviously he was irritated at the interruptions. Jisung held his hand to calm him down.

“It’s like this time-travel thing,” Jisung began, but Minho cut him off, choosing to explain in his quick, no-nonsense way.

“A house by the lake. Two people accidentally corresponding by writing letters but they’re actually two years apart in time.” He shrugged. “So things that she,” he pointed at the screen, “writes about haven’t actually happened for him, because he’s two years in the past. It’s trippy. Watch it sometime.”

“Ah.” You nodded and they resumed the film. You tuned out the dialogue from the laptop, mulling over what Minho and Jisung had just said. Corresponding by writing letters. Things that she writes haven’t happened for him because he’s in the past…

Time travel.

You sat up, the significance of that concept weighing heavily down on you.

The sound shut off once again. “You…okay?” Minho asked uncertainly.

You didn’t know how to respond for a moment. You barely heard him, blood pounding in your ears. All that was in your mind were the letters and Jisung’s voice: It’s like this time travel thing. You swallowed the revelation and the sheer possibility down.

“Yeah,” you gasped, “I just….” You stopped, the rest of the sentence dissipating into thin air.

Vicious cycle.

Those were words from your textbook.

You could still remember your professor lecturing your class on the beliefs that humans have had over the years. There was even a story, a legend, a myth, about time travellers. The class had erupted at that, referencing old pictures of people that bore eerie similarities to people living now. Social media made fun of them, calling them immortals and time-travellers. The story in your book spoke of a person who kept trying to change the past and alter the future and ended up going in circles with no result. Moral: don’t mess with things beyond human comprehension.

Vicious cycle.

“Y/N?” Jisung’s concerned voice broke you out of your thoughts. “Are you okay?”

You looked over at them, your eyes blown wide. Worry was etched on their faces. You forced a smile.

“Yeah, I just…I just remembered I have a paper due Monday.”

They laughed at your shock, and when you gestured to them that you’d be in your room doing that, they waved you away, calling out their thanks for letting them stay. You nodded absently, quietly padding to the kitchen and retrieving the letters from the box. Five of them in all.

The boys were immersed in their movie and didn’t even notice you slipping away into your room. You locked the door, finally allowing yourself to breathe.

You looked at the letters with a shaking heart. Was that what was happening? You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t want to believe it. You sat down on your bed, taking out the first letter and scanning through it. You put the idea into your head.

Time travel.

Could it be true?

Maybe it was. It would make a lot more sense with regard to the letters.

That’s how he knew, you thought. If he was your future roommate, he would know how you slept. He would be around you enough to notice how you smiled and that you chewed your lip when you were anxious. He would know that you recently got a raise and an A once in your class. He would know that the painting that hung on the living room wall was one that your friend gave you for your birthday. He would know that the stain on the carpet was your fault—and a candle’s. You could almost see yourself telling him all that.

It would explain how he knew you sometimes talked in your sleep and got scared of thunderstorms. He would know about your feelings towards your parents. Of course he would.

I realize you must be confused now, but I promise you that you’ll understand. You did. At least, you hoped you did. If that was even possible. You couldn’t see how time travel existed, but what other explanation could you give this?

It’s difficult. It’s like talking to a person with amnesia. You saw how it would be. If this was indeed future Chris writing letters to past you that didn’t know him yet…you understood how it would be difficult. There are things that I can’t say. But you’re smart. You’ll figure it out eventually. Have you? Have you figured it out?

It would explain why he said you had attended his sister’s wedding when you knew for sure that you hadn’t—yet. It would explain his anguish at the fight you were to have. His pain was contained in all of the letters you had received so far. Was the fight that bad? You couldn’t help but wonder what it would be about. Evidently it split the two of you—or, it would split you beyond repair. Chris was clearly hurting very much without you.

I never told you we weren’t going to die. And now I think that I’m going back on that promise I never made. This line still spooked you. Was he dying? Were you dying? What was going on? If he was really from the future, what was happening there that had him contact the past? Did he think he could change it?

Today’s letter made much more sense.

I don’t know if I’ve messed things up by writing this. But even if I have, it’s okay. If it means that you’ll be alive, then I’ll be okay not having you as a friend. Even if we’re awkward and don’t get closer, it’s okay. I’m scared of what will happen if we do. I’m scared of getting stuck in this vicious cycle.

He wanted to change the past? In a way that didn’t involve the two of you anymore? Wait. So, in his past, the two of you had evidently been quite close, as friends? more than friends? you didn’t know. But because of that, your fight had been severely worse? And that led to the fight breaking you up for good? And now, he couldn’t handle it, and he wanted to change the past so you didn’t become close, you didn’t fight and nobody got hurt? Was that it?

You rested your head against the wall, stunned by the turn of events. What was going on? What was happening?

…

 Your two-week winter break had you bidding Youngjae, Jisung and Yeji goodbye and sent them off home on the train. Minho’s family had gone to Japan to visit friends, and besides, he had his dance performance to think about. He confessed to you that he would much rather stay at the campus than waste his time in Japan seeing people he couldn’t care less about. Rather than be stuck in an empty dorm for the week, he decided to move in with you briefly, helping out at the coffee shop when he wasn’t practicing. You were grateful for his presence. Alone, he never got on your nerves. And he could cook better than you could.

“Why not stay at Jisung’s place for the holidays?” you asked him one evening in the kitchen.

“I didn’t want to intrude.” He sighed, pushing his glasses up with the back of his hand. “Jisung deserves some time alone with his family.” He cleanly chopped up an onion and tossed it into the pot simmering on the stove. “Don’t ask about me when you haven’t gone either.”

You threw a piece of pepper at him, which he caught and ate. “I hate travelling in the cold. That’s all. You know that.”

“I do know that. And you would have been very lonely.”

“Aww, you stayed for me?”

“Shut up and cut the vegetables. I can still leave, you know.”

“I know.”

…

Two nights later, you received a text from Jisung.

you seduced my man to move in with you huh I see how it is

You rolled your eyes. as if. he was begging me to let him stay

Jisung’s reply was quick. whatever that’s not what I wanted to tell you

okay what is it

felix has new neighbours and theor son is joining the university for the next sem and he doestn have a place to stay so

You raised your eyebrows. This was news. oh okay then ask him to call me then

okay I will I wasn’t sure I shud be giving ppl your number without telling you

You smiled. Jisung was considerate after all. thnx sungie

You had just placed the phone down when the thought occurred to you. A thought that had been haunting you a while ago. Chris was apparently your roommate at some point in the future. Was this person…Chris? You tapped out another message for Jisung. wait sungie whts the guys name

idk lemme ask felix hold on

You waited impatiently, anticipating (or dreading?) the reveal of the person’s name. You became alert when Jisung started typing.

flix doesn’t know hes asking his mom wait a sec

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Really? Does it have to have so much suspense? But what if it was Chris? What were you going to do? Were you going to tell Jisung not to give him your number? Or were you going to let Chris into your life anyway, despite all the warnings? The ‘ping’ of your phone startled you.

his names chan smthg

You relaxed. Oh. Well then. It wasn’t Chris. That decided things for you, then.

okay give him my number then

will do

You shut off your phone screen and lay back onto your pillows. Maybe Chris was right. Maybe by sending you the letters, he had changed time and now he wasn’t the person being your roommate. If the letters hadn’t been sent, would Chris be the one ready to call you?

That’s not how time works, you thought. No one is told what would have happened.

But you sure wished you were.

…

The next letter arrived in the morning, when Minho stepped outside the house to buy some breakfast. He didn’t think about picking it up, just shouting ‘you’ve got mail’ into the apartment before continuing on his way to the store.

You dashed to the front door and snatched it up, tearing it open once in your room. You had to know. Maybe he would finally crack and tell the truth instead of hiding things in code.

 Y/N,

I’ve never seen darkness like this.

I saw you again today—on the train back to Seoul. Where had you gone? I pretend like I don’t care, but I do. Deep down, you know I do, right? Honestly, I’m so tired of this. I’m tired of this existence. Why are we even fighting anymore? I know that you’ve forgiven me—you told my sister at her wedding. I want to forget it, too. I’m just too anxious to face you.

 You couldn’t help but feel like your suspicions were true. Back to Seoul. Where had you gone? Maybe back home? Where had Chris gone, if he was on the same train? From what he said, both of you wanted to patch up the fight but didn’t have the guts to?

 Did you see me? I felt like you did. Your eyes ran over me as if I didn’t exist, but I felt even more broken than I already am. Is this just a stand or do you really hate me now? Do you really not want to see me anymore? I don’t blame you.

I could have spoken to you. I could have stopped this feud but I’m a coward.

 Maybe you did see him. You could feel the ache in your heart as usual, but this stung a lot more, for some reason. Is this just a stand or do you really hate me now? I don’t blame you.

“I don’t hate you, Chris,” you whispered.

 You were sitting by the window, like you always do, wearing that sweater your mother bought you years ago, the one you thought was silly because it was orange and green. I agreed with whatever you said about it because I didn’t know colour schemes very well. But what I never said was that it looked good on you.

 “Sap,” you muttered, laughing under your breath. “Of course you would think that stupid sweater looks good on me.” The sweater in question was tucked deep in your wardrobe. It hadn’t seen the light since you first moved in. You wondered how Chris would know about it.

 I realized again that you’re so beautiful. I used to have a crush on you, you know? Back in the year we first met. You were such an odd character. You never did what you didn’t want to and you said what you meant. You were never good at hiding your emotions. You closed off a lot—I understand it was because of your parents—but I’m glad you finally opened up. I wish I were half as good at expressing myself. Y/N, can you promise me one thing? Even if after all this, I still show up at your apartment, even if we still become friends, even if we do fight, could you knock some sense into me?

My life is despicable and worthless without you. I’ve hurt you so much. But I can die in peace knowing that I’ve spent a year in your company. Even after I’ve wasted away, keep smiling.

Chris

 You couldn’t help the tears that escaped your eyes. Why was it that you felt such raw pain from these that you had to cry?

He used to have a crush on you. So that confirmed it, didn’t it? You were only friends. You could hardly imagine the depth of that friendship to end up like this from a fight. In your books, only one thing could break you apart from a relationship: betrayal of trust. Was that what happened? Or, what would happen?

You were such an odd character. You never did what you didn’t want to and you said what you meant. You were never good at hiding your emotions. True. Perfectly true.

Y/N, can you promise me one thing? Even if after all this, I still show up at your apartment, even if we still become friends, even if we do fight, could you knock some sense into me?

If you show up, you thought. But you’re not going to…right? Chan is. But you couldn’t tell anything. Maybe Chan wouldn’t last very long. Maybe the person to come after Chan was this Chris. But you were too weak.

“I promise, Chris.” You closed your eyes.

Even after I’ve wasted away, keep smiling.

You did.

…

 Monday came around again. But this time, you didn’t particularly hate it. It was the day after Christmas. Still the holidays. Classes wouldn’t start up until the next week.

Minho idled on the sofa, using his laptop, headphones around his neck, a true picture of professionalism. He could be doing anything for all you cared. Seated at the dining table, you were busy typing out an essay due for your anthropology class when break was over. Little by little each day. You simply forced yourself to not procrastinate until Saturday.

Your phone vibrated. An unknown number was calling. You picked up.

“Hello?”

A voice you were not familiar with spoke. “Is this Y/N?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Yes. Can I help you?”

“I was, um, calling to ask about the opening for a roommate?” the male voice answered hesitantly. Thick accent.

“Oh! Are you Felix’s neighbour? Chan…something?”

“Yes, I am!” he sounded relieved. “Bang Chan. But you can just call me Chan.”

You scribbled his name down on your notepad. “I suppose you’d like to see the apartment?”

“Yes, I would, um…” A pause. “When could I come over?”

“Um…” You thought about it. Youngjae and Jisung would be back on Wednesday and Minho would clear the area by then. “Is Friday okay? I assume you will be starting your classes on Monday?”

You heard the rustling of paper. “Yeah. Yeah, I am starting on Monday. Friday’s cool. Um, what—what time?”

“Any time is fine. I’m free all day on Friday.” You wrote down Friday on the paper. “We can talk about splitting the rent then.”

“Rent won’t be a problem,” Chan replied. You raised your eyebrows. Rich, huh?

“Very well. I guess I’ll see you on Friday.” You noticed Minho looking over at you. You rolled your eyes. “Take care. Bye.” You hung up the call, feeling like this Chan was someone you weren’t going to get along well with.

“What’s up?” Minho asked.

“Candidate for roommate,” you told him, setting down you phone and turning back to your essay. “Mister Bang Chan.”

“Ah. You got me safely out of the way first, huh?”

You winked at him cheekily. “Of course. The number one spot goes to you. I didn’t want him to feel incompetent.”

…

The next day, Minho packed his bags and left. You were sad to see him go, but you knew he had work to do. Youngjae was coming back tomorrow, and he would most definitely have a heart attack if he saw their dorm room in the state that Minho had left it in.

And speaking of work, you had enough as well.

Your essay was halfway done and you stepped outside the flat to take a break, get some fresh air, maybe get a coffee or hot cocoa or something. But of course, fate had it in for you.

You sighed at the all too familiar handwriting lying on your doorstep and brought it inside, opting to read it before going out. It would make you upset for sure, why not get it over with and then grab some coffee?

You slit the envelope open. The first thing you noticed was that handwriting was different. Shaky, almost.

 Y/N,

You’re not going crazy, I’ll tell you that. I am.

I heard the news today. I couldn’t believe it at first, I was in shock. But it’s true. It happened.

Had you really been drinking? That’s what they say, the police and the doctors. That’s what they reported in the paper.

I still can’t believe you’re gone.

 Wait, what? What do you mean, I’m gone? Your heartbeat picked up tempo.

 Was it just a car accident? Or was it suicide? Why had you been drinking? I don’t understand anything. My world is slowly spiralling into darkness and these letters are my only hope. My one chance, the only chance.

 The words spun around your head. Car accident? Suicide? Drinking? These letters are my only hope. The only chance.

 I haven’t spoken to you in almost a year, but it was comforting to know that at least you were alive and breathing the same air that I was. But now you’re gone and I can’t breathe anymore. I’m trying to grasp what happened and I’m trying to convince myself that it couldn’t possibly be true. But it is.

Reading all these letters, I know you might have understood what’s going on by now. You were always so smart. I’ve put the newspaper cutting in the envelope. I don’t know if you can see it or if I’m breaking the law.

Don’t ever drink and drive. Promise me.

Chris

 You stayed motionless, just standing there in front of the sofa, clutching the letter in your hand. Did…did you die? Your fingers fumbled around for the envelope, shaking it open. A piece of paper slid into your palm. The envelope fell silently to the floor.

Your face was staring back up at you.

You didn’t dare to read it, but some phrases registered in your memory before you could turn away. Killed in a car accident. Drunk driving. Research assistant. Road safety. Enquiry. And your name.

You shuddered, sinking onto the sofa, world swaying under your feet. Your hands were shaking badly and you squeezed them together, trying to release some of the tension. You were in shock. This proved everything. He was trying to contact you from the future.

“Oh my gosh,” you finally broke, burying your face in your hands.

So this was it. This was the reason he was writing to you. I don’t know if you can see it or if I’m breaking the law. Of course, the laws of nature. Don’t meddle with time. He thought he could have prevented your death? If only you two weren’t fighting?

Don’t ever drink and drive. Promise me.

Perhaps.

Maybe things had changed.

Chan was coming over on Friday after all. Maybe he should stay.

…

Wednesday saw Youngjae and Jisung stopping by your place with food that their parents had sent along for you. Thanking them profusely, you stored the dishes carefully away in the refrigerator. Since Minho had gone, you knew you would be facing a shortage of food. You wondered how well Chan could cook, if he could at all.

“Missed us?” Jisung asked, launching himself at you in a tight hug. You laughed, patting his head.

“Of course I did, Sungie,” you murmured fondly into his hair. He could be such a pain sometimes, but only when he was gone did you realize how much you all depended on him to keep the mood light. “My sunshine baby.”

“Aishh, stop it!” he whined, pulling away from you. “I’m not a baby.”

You giggled, ruffling his hair. “You’ll always be my baby.”

Youngjae engulfed you in his arms, rocking back and forth. “Your parents are a tiny bit mad that you didn’t come home, you know.”

You squirmed out of his hold. “I guessed. I just didn’t feel like visiting at the moment.”

He squeezed your shoulder comfortingly. “I know, Y/N. I know.” Briefly you considered telling him about the letters and your conclusion, but you thought it might sound rather far-fetched for rational Youngjae. Especially after what happened yesterday.

“Hey, did that guy ever call you?” Jisung interrupted, stealing a carrot from your fridge and gnawing at it. You pursed your lips.

“He did.”

“Who are we talking about?” Youngjae was confused.

“Felix’s new neighbour’s son is attending uni here and he called asking if he could check out the apartment.”

“Oh. Hm.” He seemed wary about this new person. “When is he coming? Or did he already?”

“Friday,” you told them. “So I don’t want any of you near this place, you hear? I’m keeping it spick and span. You are not ruining this for me.”

Jisung pouted, the food in his cheeks only making him look cuter. Youngjae put his hands up in surrender. “Understood.”

…

By the end of the night, the apartment was relatively tidy. At least, clean enough for a college student. You hoped Chan wouldn’t mind too much.

Thursday morning was cold. Just. That’s all that came into your mind when you woke up. Stretching around on your bed, instead of relief, you were hit with the strangest sense of foreboding. Something…you didn’t know what, but something told you there was a letter today. You jumped out of bed and raced to the front door.

You heart stuttered when you saw the envelope, addressed to you in his handwriting.

 Y/N,

Today was the funeral. I couldn’t bear to see you. I waited until the coffin was lowered to come near the vicinity.

 The funeral. Your funeral. You felt odd inside, reading about your own funeral, but felt even worse at Chris’ plight. He couldn’t bear to see you.

Your parents are devastated. Can you blame them? You left them around seven months ago and you haven’t spoken to them since, have you? I don’t know what to feel. I can only pity them but I feel so helpless inside, so guilty, like I could have prevented all this.

 You left your parents seven months ago? And didn’t speak to them after that? You placed a palm over your heart. Why? Did you fight with them, too? You couldn’t imagine the pain that must have caused. To not even say a good word to each other before you died? Chris felt guilty. Could he have prevented this?

 Today I thought a lot about the first time we met. Do you remember? You heard my name and went into a rant about some letters I had apparently written to you. I had no idea what you were going on about, but now, I realize it must have been these. I asked you to show me those letters, but you said you had thrown them away. Have we been stuck in that cycle forever?

 Your eyes darted to the box safely on the fridge. No wonder you had felt the urge to throw them away. Time was wired that way! In Chris’ past, you had thrown them away and when he showed up, you had gone off on him about the letters. But since he hadn’t written them yet, he had no clue what you were talking about.

Vicious cycle.

It made sense now.

 I saw your friends today. They say you were celebrating one of their promotions, and that you refused to go home with them. You had become reckless, they said. Ever since… They didn’t say anything about…us. They didn’t need to. I could see it in their eyes, the blame piercing into my heart. This is all my fault.

 My friends? Did he mean Youngjae? And Jisung? Minho? Yeji? They blamed Chris? And Chris blamed himself for your recklessness? He thought that if you hadn’t fought, you wouldn’t have attempted to drink and drive? You wouldn’t have attempted….suicide?

 Couldn’t I have stopped this? If only I had tried a little harder, if only we both had made a little more time...Wouldn’t things have changed?

I can’t breathe. There’s nothing but darkness in front of me now. There’s this horrible weight pressing down on my chest.

 “But what did you do, Chris?” You couldn’t help but ask. “What did you do that was so unforgivable that I killed myself over it?”

 Y/N, by the time you finish reading this, I will be dead.

 You gasped, clapping a hand over your mouth. No. No, no, no!

I know I’ve never said it to you very often, but you mean so much to me. I’m sorry that I let things come to this.

I’ve hurt you in the worst possible ways. But didn’t we deserve a chance? Just one more chance? Just one more chance and we could make it, couldn’t we?

I don’t deserve you and you don’t deserve anything I’ve given you. Even if I don’t deserve a chance, you do.

 “You do deserve a chance, Chris,” you choked out, openly crying now. “You deserve everything.”

 I can’t do anything but this. I don’t know how many forces of nature I’m breaking to get these letters to you. Everything is in your hands now, along with this letter.

I’m dying, Y/N.

I’m dying now because I can’t live without your presence. I’m dying now because my presence killed you.

I’m dying now to save you.

To save us.

Chris.

 Your blurry eyes fixed on the full stop after his name. He never did that before. You knew why he did it now. He was done. No more letters. This was it.

You clutched the paper to your chest, legs giving way, sinking to the floor with your back against the door, sobbing uncontrollably. You didn’t know him, but you felt it deep in your heart. In your soul. You felt just as you would if one of your gang had committed suicide. Y/N, by the time you finish reading this, I will be dead. And the oddest part? That weight on your chest had gotten heavier, but now you felt empty. He really was gone. You were the past, and he had destroyed the future. Everything is in your hands now, along with this letter.

You cried until you had no tears left.

You cried until your head spun from dehydration.

But in the end, against the cold door, you calmed yourself.

He’s alive. It was his future self that had died. This was the past. Or now, the present. He was most certainly alive.

You didn’t know where he was. Where he would come from. But hopefully, your paths would cross some way or other. At least, they would pass close by. You would find him. Whatever the cost, you would find him. Just to observe him from afar. Just to know if he was safe.

You swallowed thickly, rubbing the dried tear tracks off your face.

You would find him.

Sooner or later, he would come to you.

…

By the time the sun came up on Friday morning, you had composed yourself. Or at least, until Chan came and left. The apartment was pretty presentable, from your point of view.

You half-hoped Chan didn’t like it, so there would be a chance that Chris would show up. But then again, would that be playing right into the cycle you were trapped in? What if Chris coming to you ended up in misery whichever way the tape played? Maybe you should just keep him away and let Chan be your roommate.

You tugged at your hair in frustration.

When the time comes, I’ll know what to do.

Someone knocked twice on the door.

You immediately panicked. Fuck.

You cleared your throat, letting out steady breaths.

Cautiously, you opened the door.  

A pale-faced (you didn’t think it was from nerves) young man stood on your doorstep. At first glance he was quite ordinary. Dark brown hair, plaid button-up over a white tee, under a black overcoat. Jeans. He looked like any other college student. He had the type of face you could certainly get used to seeing. Seeing you, the corners of his mouth turned up in the sort of forced awkward ‘first meeting’ smile reserved for situations like this.

You returned the smile. “Chan, right?” you confirmed.

He nodded. “That’s me.”

You opened the door wider for him to enter, shivering slightly at the draft sneaking inside, and shut the door as soon as he came in. You noticed that he had been careful to shake the snow off his shoes before he stepped inside.

Considerate, you thought. Time to get to business.

“Nice to meet you, Chan,” you welcomed him, extending a hand. “Y/N.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He took your hand and both of you gasped at the shock that travelled through your forearms, jerking apart at once. He laughed nervously. “Weather does that sometimes, aye? The shocks.” He stuck his hand out to try again. This time you were able to shake it properly. “It’s nice to meet you too, Y/N.”

You nodded and as you drew apart, you didn’t bother to tell him that summer storm weather caused the shocks. Not winter. It didn’t matter anyway.

“You can hang up your jacket there,” you offered, gesturing to the hatrack in the corner. He obeyed after a moment’s hesitation. You noticed his physique as he shrugged his jacket off. “Um,” you weren’t sure how to go about a tour. “You can look around, I suppose. Take your time.” You pointed to the kitchen. “I’ll be here.”

He gave you a thumbs-up that he seemed to instantly regret. Turning away, you watched as his figure disappeared down the hall into the spare bedroom.

You sighed, planting your hands on the kitchen counter. You didn’t know what to do. Despite your curiosity about Chris, you figured that it probably wasn’t smart to risk both of your lives by insisting that Chris live here.

After all, he had said himself that he might have messed things up. That he might have changed his past. Your present. Chris might be anywhere. He could be a world away. He could be down the street. Maybe it was safer that way. You technically didn't know him, anyway. You only thought you did because of the letters. You didn’t know what he looked like, his personality, his past. You didn’t know how he would treat you. And what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you.

Maybe you should just let it all go. Chris is probably safe now. Sooner or later, you would forget about him. Why not sooner? You raised your eyes to the box on the fridge. One day, you wouldn’t need them anymore. One day, you would be fine with throwing them out, with burning the memories that wouldn’t exist because the past was changed. But until then…you would wait.

“It’s a nice place.”

You were so deep in your thoughts that you hadn’t heard Chan enter the kitchen. His eyes roamed the small room, a dopey smile on his face.

You allowed your expression to soften.

“You look upset,” Chan observed. “Is something wrong?”

Yes, something was wrong. But how do you tell this beautiful stranger your story? Where to begin? You shook your head. “You know how time breaks friends apart?”

He winced. “Only too well.”

The two of you stood there in silence, his gaze trying to reassure you. You didn’t need to say anything at all. He understood. Maybe you could get used to having him around. Maybe Chris was right. Maybe staying away was the best decision.

“So,” you broke the silence. “You like the apartment?”

He nodded. “I really do. But…um, how far is the university from here?”

You shrugged. “Fifteen minutes or so. There are buses from here direct to uni.”

“I have a car,” he informed you. “Hey, I could drive you there. We could go together.”

You felt warmth in your chest despite the cold weather. “We’ll see.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’ll bring my stuff over tomorrow. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

He teetered on the edge of speech but then turned away as if to leave the kitchen. But then he stopped. “You’re—from abroad, right?”

“I am.” You tapped your fingers on the counter. “Aren’t you, too? You have an accent.”

“Yep.” He pressed his lips together. “You can call me by my English name, you know. If it’s more comfortable with you. Chan is my Korean name.”

In hindsight, you had no clue what you walked into, no idea where things were going.

“But I don’t know your English name?” your voice carried a questioning lilt. “Felix didn’t mention…”

In hindsight, you were ashamed that you didn’t consider the possibility.

In hindsight, you should have known better.

He smiled broadly.

“Chris.”

.

The smile fell off of your lips at once. And so did his.

Chris.

Suddenly the name was all you could hear over the blood throbbing in your veins.

Chris.

And all you could see was the name, scrawled on the bottom corner of paper in handwriting that you had become all too accustomed too.

Chris.

You heard him too well.

I’m dying, Y/N.

I’m dying now to save you.

To save us.

 His expression morphed to one of confusion. “Um. Y/N? Is…Is there something wrong?”

You turned your face away, so he wouldn’t see the droplets running down your cheek.

“No,” you breathed out, trying to keep your voice steady.

Even after I’ve wasted away, keep smiling.

Despite your suffocation, through your tears, your lips curved upwards.

“Not at all.”

…

fin.

[jenomark]

Make You Feel Loved

○Pairing: Yuta x Reader (Female) ○Other Members/ Characters: Taeyong (very very briefly) ○Genre: very angsty + a lil’ smutty ○Warnings: i feel like there should be a warning for an abusive type of friendship/relationship here + sex ○Word count: 3,762

→Summary: You and Yuta recall a friends-with-benefits type of relationship you used to have that didn’t end well. When you run into each other and time didn’t exactly heal all, what will happen?

→Notes: ✨ Anon Requested✨pls do one where yuta is your bff and you guys always have sex when you're brokenhearted but he starts really liking you so he can't keep doing that anymore?? kinda angsty pls but it can have a happy ending if you want to!!

○ I definitely let my imagination run a little wild with this one. Sorry it’s a little sad. Thanks for the request!!

______________________________________________________________

  You didn’t want to ruin the friendship. You knew there would be no going back if you made the first move. You had told yourself it wasn’t a good idea and had been through all the reasons why it would never end well. There had been movies made about relationships like these. People were not made to love in this way, and although you had lived your whole life in agreement with this, you still knowingly went through with it.

   He was kind. He said all the right things that night. He had been your best friend through everything, never judging you in your weakest moments. You wanted him to be able to handle the weight of everything. He could take away the pain for a moment, a few hours, maybe. And you were both adults. That’s what you told yourself to make it better. You could make your own choices, and he had made his.

 The first time was new. He felt familiar, in a way. He was a friend-shaped human with eyes so big and needy, a soft face for comfort. He looked at you like you stole the sun and placed it in your smile. It’s the only way you can describe how you affect him. A little harmless crush throughout life, and what you thought was an unbreakable mutual bond.

 Yuta was good. He was better than what you thought. His body, lean and muscular from sports, knew all the right ways to make you forget. He fucked slow and fluid, treating your body like it was something he couldn’t get enough of. He was different from your other lovers in that he knew where the clit was, and he wasn’t afraid to make you know it.

 You came quickly with him. Maybe it was the delicious sin of it all, the forbidden territory of man on top of you, or maybe it was a desperate need to feel something so badly that you settled for anything.

 The second time was sweet. You were happy to be near him, to touch him, to let him roll over you. You couldn’t help but smile in the choke hold of heartache. Yuta was there to pick you up, to fuck you bent over counters and give you head on lazy Sunday’s while you watched trash television, him occasionally coming up for air to comment on the program. You set the tone for the future the second time when you led him to believe that life could always be like this.

 You were selfish, you knew. Every time your heart would break from some loser, you would run back to him. He’d fuck you as a friend and then you’d fuck him over. You could feel that you were chipping away at his own heart, as big as it was. When you were feeling particularly rotten, you would ignore his calls and let him wither away.

 You weren’t always like this, of course. Back when you took responsibility for the things you did and before you hated yourself, you were also kind. You took interest in Yuta and his music. You texted first. You took his feelings into account and let them rest in the crook of your arm to sleep, carrying them with you as a measure of importance. You’re not really sure when it had changed, but it was getting harder to head back to the start.

 The third time you wound up at his door, he was visibly annoyed. It wasn’t fun or new or exciting anymore. He knew the way you tasted. He knew what you looked like when he made you came. It’s hard to lie to someone who knows your true orgasm face, especially if they choose to still love you even after you look that ugly.

“I don’t want to hear it,” he had said. “You let these people do this to you. It’s your own fault.”

  Your face was streaked with tears. It wasn’t just about a man. Everything was going wrong in life and you needed an escape. Yuta was a safe haven, a place to remember who you were. He built you up from the ground.

“I know,” you said. “I’m stupid.”

  You always got him like this: calling yourself names. Stupid. Whore. It didn’t matter. He was putty in your hands when you degrade yourself. Sometimes, he would worship your body. Other times, he would tuck you into bed. The third time, he tried shutting his front door in your face.

  You should have ended it there. Let him pity you, if that’s what he had to do. Instead, you dropped to your knees and started clawing at his pants. You couldn’t stop crying. Why couldn’t you stop crying.

 “Get up.” Yuta said.

  His face always betrayed his real emotions. He wasn’t as angry as he wanted  to be. The lines around his mouth were softening. He pulled you to your feet and told you to go home. When you didn’t, he invited you inside to calm down. Eventually, you fucked on his living room floor, your knees getting rug burn as you rode him.

  It continued like this for sixteen months or so. You never really noticed time slip by unless you were miserable and then time seemed to slow. You weren’t sure of the time frame exactly, but you knew it had gone on for too long. The fourth time turned into the tenth time. By the fifteenth time, you wondered why it was him you kept going back to.

 Yuta had fallen in love with you. You could feel it scratching at your insides whenever he looked at you. With him, you were always a ‘what if’ kind of mild curiosity. He’d make comments about how good you might be together. He would laugh about it but you knew he was serious. He wasn’t writing diary entries with your name in love hearts but he had stopped his entire life to wait for you, and that was worse.

“I could be married now,” he said once. “I could have a wife and kids and be living in the countryside away from this life.”

 His cock was in your mouth at the time. You hated when he talked because he talked himself in circles, especially if he was particularly annoyed with why you had stepped into his life on a certain day. You tried sucking him into silence, but he kept going.

“It could be you.” he said.

  You didn’t like playing with his feelings but you were terrified of being without him. If you could just keep him here in the moment, he would come to his senses and feel the way you wanted him to feel.

 When you didn’t play along at all, he asked you quietly why you wouldn’t let him go.

  The end wasn’t as explosive as you anticipated. He was so tired. He kept mentioning that there was this girl in his life that wasn’t you and how he wanted to be with her. It was serious, he had said.

“Okay.” was all you could manage.

“I don’t want to be friends with you anymore.”

“Okay.”

“It’s too much.”

“Okay.”

“I feel like I’m suffocating.”

  You were angry at yourself for feeling angry at him. There was a vicious cycle happening where you ached to reach out to him and feel his mouth on yours. Your heart hurt. You never imagined that Yuta would be the cause of all the pain.

“Okay.”

“Is that all you can say? After all this time?” Yuta asked.

  You asked him what he wanted from you. He paused. There were tears in his eyes that made you feel like the worst person in the world. He said there was nothing he ever wanted from you again.

       Yuta was doing well. He never expected to see you again. Time had passed and words were exchanged and neither had been pleasant, but awkward.  It had been a little over a year since you parted ways. They say that sometimes you have to let go of people who aren’t good for you, but they never tell you that those people take a part of you with them.

  You looked pretty, a little older and more self-assured. He noted you were alone and trying to avoid him. He imagined this scenario a million times before. You would meet in a busy place and your eyes would lock across the room. Maybe he would smile, but that would be it. Your stories weren’t written well, but they were permanently etched on every corner of his heart. Admittedly, he thought of you from time to time. Never when he was happy.

 “Hi,” he said.

  Your smile was tight. It brought out all the ugly parts of you, he thought. Catching himself thinking negatively about you made him realize he was never quite over it.

   For him, the first time was nerve-wracking. He couldn’t believe you had kissed him. He had always looked at you like you had stars in your eyes, but being so close to you and feeling your eyelashes against his face, made him panic. He was sure that is what you were seeing whenever you looked at him. Touching you made his hands shake. He was sure you could feel how anxious he was. He was very unsure of himself. He tried really hard to pass it off as excitement.

    All Yuta could remember from that first time was how he held you.Your one complaint with the man before him was that he never held you enough and he made you feel unlovable. Yuta only wanted to make you feel loved. He never expected to be the one to fall in love.

 You dated a lot. It didn’t bother him in the beginning. You were two different people on two different life paths. You were always honest with him and with your intentions. He knew you didn’t want anyone to get hurt.

  The second time hurt. Yuta thought about asking you out on a real date. A romanticist at heart, he had it all planned out. He didn’t want to move too fast because you were recently heart-broken. Your ex was still texting you mean things you didn’t want to face about yourself, and Yuta felt there was a time limit on your attention. After sex, you mentioned how you were going to continue seeing your ex, which prompted Yuta to drop any thought of dating you from his mind.

 He didn’t know why you had remained friends. You were half-assed at every relationship in your life, so why would anything be different with him. Once he fooled himself into believing he was special, but that’s how everyone in your life felt. Everyone was special and no one mattered.  By the third time, he was going to end it so that he could save his pride. It was only twice and he could crawl his way back to the start of the line and begin again. He knew he couldn’t erase your mouth on his, or the way your fingers inched down his spine, but he could make it easier for you. He hated that everything ended up being for you. Himself included.

 “I can’t do it, “ Yuta told his friend, Taeyong. “She’s inside of me. All over me.”

  Taeyong listened intently but could offer little advice. He had never met you. He didn’t know what kind of sickness he was dealing with, couldn’t feel the way you wormed your way into people’s thoughts.

“Let her go.” Taeyong offered.

“If it were that easy, don’t you think I would have by now?”

Taeyong shrugged. “What’s so great about her, anyway?”

  On days where you were truly present, Yuta loved basking in you. You were funny and clever. Your thoughts weren’t shallow but made him think deeply. You offered advice without him asking, and you were so damn strong when you wanted to be. Losing you meant losing parts of himself he thought he owed to you.

   And then came the end. He was angry all of the time and it spilled over into his work life and his social life. You came over occasionally, fucked, and then left. You argued with him a lot about little things that he couldn’t change about himself. He felt himself beginning to bend, and sooner or later, either he broke, or the both of you did.

For the first time in his life, Yuta chose himself.

“Hi.” you answered back.

   You were trying hard to make everything seem easy. This was a meeting between old friends only. You were too casual, even Yuta could feel himself relax a little.

“How are you?” you asked.

   A million answers flashed before Yuta’s eyes. He had just gotten out of a long relationship with a girl he stayed friends with. She understood that he had a lot of emotional baggage because of you. He wondered if the rest of his life would be a revolving door of women who could see the way you were still existing in every crevice of his being.

“Okay.” he said, echoing your old words.

   Recycled. That’s how he felt. You had thrown him out time and time again, always coming back to someone you thought would be brand new and ready to be used. It had gone on for so long that Yuta began to think of himself in the same way.

“That’s good.” you said.

  You couldn’t remember talking to Yuta ever being this awkward. Conversation tended to flow in one way with him and it could be simple when it wasn’t about either of you.

“Yes.” Yuta said.

   He looked different to you. Younger. More handsome. His hair was a little shaggy around his ears and it made him look like someone different. He even dressed better. You looked at his jeans, his button-up shirt and could see the touch of a woman. Jealousy reached out and choked you like the dominating bitch she was.

“Yes.” you agreed.

“I hate this.” he said.

  You couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t laugh with you, but you didn’t expect him to. He was always too serious for his own good.

“Are you hungry?” you asked.

“I already ate. I’m actually leaving.”

“Oh?”

“I’m on my lunch break,” he said. “But I work from home.”

“You’re alone?” you asked, looking around.

   Time had changed you, he could sense it. There were callouses over your soft parts and they rubbed against the rest of you the wrong way. You were playing it too cool and acting like what he said couldn’t affect you, but he noticed the way you sized him up.

“Yes. Alone.” he said. “I broke up with my girlfriend quite a bit ago.”

  At that, your ears perked up. You wanted to feed into his words but you knew he had latched onto your game right away. He always did know you better than anyone else.

“Me too,” you said. “Another day, another boy.”

“I guess we’re on the same playing field.” he said.

“Both of us broken-hearted.”

“I’m not broken-hearted.”

“Ouch” you said, softly.

   People were moving around you on the sidewalk. You hadn’t even noticed you drifted outside of the lunch spot. Both of you were aware of everything going on around you : the construction workers using a jackhammer down the street, the slices of phone conversations from passerby.

“I should go.” you said.

“Always the first to leave. Not much has changed.” Yuta said.

  You had the sense to look ashamed at his words. You opened your mouth to apologize but nothing came out. None of it would really change things, and there was something about moving forward that was addicting to you.

“It was nice seeing you,” you said. “It’s been awhile.”

  Yuta was searching for a snide remark, but knew he had already won. He didn’t even know if what he won was worth it. He had lied about being broken-hearted, and against his better judgement, you still made him feel something for you.

“You too.” he said.

  As you turned to leave, Yuta grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him. The kiss he placed on your lips was unemotional and stiff.

“What was that for?” you asked.

“I wanted to see something,” Yuta said. “If I had feelings.”

“And?”

Yuta shook his head no. The lie sat inside his mouth like a poison, but if he was going to die from it, so would you.

  The way he shook his head made you ache inside. For you, the kiss brought back everything you had felt but never said. The feelings were confusing but they were there, simmering underneath layers of self-deprecation and narcissism. 

 Things moved fast. Yuta leaned in for another kiss. The way he felt made you dizzy and feel out of control. You constantly felt like you were chasing after something you couldn’t have. As he wrapped you up in his arms, only then did time begin to slow down long enough for you to catch your breath.

“My new place is around the corner,” Yuta said.

  You didn’t want to let go of this moment. You wanted it stuck in your throat like a sickly sweetness.

“Show me the way.” you said.

   Touching him was like a heart break you had to live through so many times. He felt like memories bottled up inside of you, fluttering against your rib cage, his kisses setting them free. You begged him to make you forget, but all he could do was make you remember.

  Yuta loved to feel your skin warm with his touch. He loved the way your body grew splotches of pink whenever he dragged his teeth against your stomach and your thighs. He loved to part your legs and eat you out until his name became a whisper on your lips. He loved to make love to you, spooning you from behind and moving your hair out of the way so he could kiss your neck. He loved to fuck you, taking the time to learn what made your body feel good.

    It was harder to be with you than he thought. All of the color had drained and so much of your lives was left in black and white. The sight of you made him want to forgive you for everything in the way an ugly painting evokes feeling. He touched the parts of you that became fleshy and stretched across the canvas. He didn’t feel like he was kissing the same person, but someone who was a cheap imitation of a person.

   You sucked his cock like you could wash it all away with your spit, working at him as if he would praise how hard you were trying. Everything felt wrong. His cum tasted different. The way he looked at you was apathetic and cold. He moaned when you rode him, gripping your hips so tight his hands left marks, but he didn’t look at you like you were important.

 When you were finished, your body hurt. You resisted the urge to curl up in a ball and cry. You wanted him to see that something was wrong, to come to you and make everything better. Yuta threw you the clothes you came in with and watched as they fell at your feet.

“I’m sorry.” you told him.

“It’s too late.”

   It was getting dark outside. You didn’t know if he meant that you were too late for him, or if he was commenting on the time. The both of you had fucked the day away, but you were the only one unaware that he was fucking you away as well.

“I don’t know what to say.” you said.

“Seems to be a common theme.”

   Yuta pulled on a pair of boxers. He went over and picked up the clothes at your feet and handed them to you a little more gently. You took them, but didn’t put them on.

“I really fucked things up, “you said. “Like I do everything.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not sorry,” he said. “You do everything you want to do. You are one hundred percent who you’re supposed to be.”

   You pulled on your clothes and brushed your hair with your fingers. Your mind was racing but none of the thoughts could formulate a coherent sentence. Moving on autopilot, you walked across the room to touch him but he rejected you.

“I’m also who I’m supposed to be,” he said. “I love you. I think I’ve always loved a part of you that didn’t exist, but that is my fault. I thought that if I never saw you again I would get something of me that i lost but you’re all over everything I eat, I touch, I breathe, I fuck. You’re a disease. How can someone I bring the best out of bring the worst out of me?”

“That’s not fair,” you said. “You let me in. We fucked up together. You don’t get to pin this all on me. You think I don’t love you? You think I don’t hate myself for what I did to you, to myself? I think about you every fucking day, Yuta. I always have, even though you deserve none of my bullshit.”

“Please,” Yuta said. “Enough with the ‘I’m a horrible person’ shit. I’m exhausted.”

   Yuta pulled on the rest of his clothes and shut out his bedroom light, encasing you in darkness. You followed him out, trailing behind him like a petulant child.

“I hate you,” you told him. “You were a horrible friend.”

   Yuta turned around and fixed you with a stare so hateful it made you stop in your tracks and retreat a little bit. He walked to his front door and tossed your shoes at you.

“This was a mistake.” he said.

   You tried shoving on your shoes but the laces were too tight. You kept pulling at the strings, but the more you pulled at them, the tighter they got. Tears sprang to your eyes. You hastily wiped them away with the back of your hand.

“We had good times.” you said.

Yuta laughed. “I can’t believe you.”

“Well , believe it, baby,” you said.

You gave up on your shoes and stood up with them in your hands. You walked towards him. He stare was intense and unloving.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” you said. 

“I don’t want to see you again.” Yuta said.

He couldn’t keep count anymore. This was the last time.

[marvelousbirthdays]

March 3 - Bucky Barnes/Darcy Lewis or Victor Creed/Darcy Lewis, something fluffy/smutty maybe with prompt "What a nice little sound, I think I'll bite there again." for sionnachoiche3

Written by @meilan-firaga

Darcy hadn’t exactly planned for impromptu, middle-of-the-woods ravishment when she’d picked out her underwear that morning. And by “picked out,” of course, she actually meant “summoned from the depths of the drawer where panties that should have been tossed years ago lived.” Actually, she wasn’t even sure she’d brought the kind of panties one would pick out with her when she’d packed for Jane’s little “research excursion”--also known as Operation Get Over Thor By the Power of SCIENCE!

Seriously, the town they were in was so remote that you had a better chance of running into a rampaging moose than an eligible bachelor. The good panties didn’t deserve to be brought so far only to suffer that kind of neglect. Which was a damn shame because back home she had quite the killer collection for a perpetual intern with pop tarts for a salary.

“I feel as though I might not have your complete attention, soulmate.”

Right. That guy. The woods and the ravishing.

There had been a bit of an incident.

Bad guys came for Jane and the Research. Darcy made a smartass remark. One bad guy pretty much instantly turned on the other bad guys with brutal efficiency, snarked out some words that just so happened to be the ones printed across her entire underboob, and promptly stole Darcy away to the romantic undergrowth of the conveniently nearby forest. They’d been thoroughly making out (which she was absolutely not going to be ashamed about because “Go, Universe!” her soulmate was a fox) and had just started to make with the neck kissing and wandering of hands beneath clothing when the Underwear Conundrum began to gnaw at the back of her mind.

“I had thought that your sharp tongue and forceful delivery during the fight might mean my soulmate wasn’t some empty-headed wilting flower, but I’m starting to think I got my hopes up.” His voice had been deep and rumbling from the get-go, but it suddenly held the beginnings of an angry growl. She didn’t know whether to quake with fear or an awkwardly timed giggle. “I’ll ask again: Where are your thoughts, Darcy?”

“First off, you didn’t actually ask that,” she snorted, reaching up to run one hand over his short crop of hair before pushing her glasses back up on her nose. “Take a chill pill, my dude.” She shifted beneath him until she managed to dislodge the pinecone that was becoming intimately acquainted with the lower portion of her spine. “I’m not ignoring you or anything. Well, not on purpose, anyway. My anxiety brain is just picking a bad time to say hello.”

Her soulmate sat back on his heels and quirked his head to one side in a way that was surprisingly reminiscent of a cocker spaniel. His dark eyebrows furrowed and he absently ran his hand from her knee to her hip, squeezing gently when he reached the top of her thigh. The tips of his--nails? Claws? Whatever.--caught just slightly on the fabric of her leggings. “Are you anxious because I arrived with men who probably would have killed you?” he asked with a frown. His hand made the trip back to her knee and up to her hip once more, and Darcy started to suspect that the action might become a nervous habit. “Because I thought I took care of that problem.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow and let out another snort. Rapid murder of would-be kidnappers had definitely solved the immediate problem when they met, but she really hoped he wasn’t going to try that tactic for every issue they encountered. “No, we’re cool on that,” she assured him, tugging on his shirt until he leaned down enough for her to drape her wrists over his shoulders. He was watching her intently--a predator focused on his prey even outside of a fight--and another thought popped into her head and out of her mouth before she could stop it. “You know my name, but I never got yours.”

Surprise briefly lit his hazel eyes before he folded down over her like a cat settling into a particularly warm patch of sunlight. “It’s Victor,” he rumbled against her lips. “Victor Creed.”

“Victor,” Darcy breathed, testing the sound just before he fused his mouth to hers once more. The name was familiar in a way that said she’d probably read it in all those S.H.I.E.L.D. files that had hit the web, but she had better things to focus on. Like the way he’d already learned that tugging her bottom lip between his teeth would make her hips rock against his own. Or how she’d already figured out that dragging her nails across his shoulder blades even over his shirt would pull a hungry growl from his throat.

“Does that resolve the anxiety?” he inquired in a throaty rasp as he started to nibble his way from her jaw to her shoulder.

In spite of her efforts to focus on the effect his teeth, tongue, and stubble were having on her lady parts, an image of threadbare cotton with useless elastic rudely shoved itself to the forefront of her mind. There might have been holes. Possibly a faded My Little Pony print.

“No,” she whined, “this bitch doesn’t go away that easily.” With a frustrated groan she dropped her arms from around him, pushed her glasses into her hair, and scrubbed both hands over her eyes. She felt him push away from her, possibly sitting back on his heels again. “Look, this has nothing to do with you and who you are and the things you’ve done because, I mean, look at you! You’re gorgeous and growly and made of muscles, which is pretty much exactly the type of soulmate I always wanted to have and yeah it might be weird that I’m ready to jump on that pony right out of the gate when we met under weird ass circumstances but I’ve never been the type to think I was going to make my soulmate wait because Hello! Sex is awesome and again with the you being a pretty batch of sexy beast in a Darcy-approved package and I’ve always had this thing for bad boys and that’s definitely a bonus but here’s the thing: I’m pretty sure I’m wearing panties I’ve had since high school that definitely don’t match the two sports bras I’ve got on to tame the girls--one’s pink and the other’s about the same color as a yellow highlighter--and I don’t think I’ve shaved in a month and my brain keeps insisting that the second you get me naked you’re going to run away screaming.” Darcy finished on a deep, ragged breath with her hands pressed to her eyes. If she didn’t look at him she wouldn’t actively see him reject her.

“Is that all?” Victor asked mildly, shifting again to lie more fully against her. Darcy flung her hands away in surprise as his hips settled between her thighs and definitive evidence that her little freak out hadn’t diminished his interest in the slightest pressed against her. He was propped up with his elbows resting on either side of her head, muscular arms holding the majority of his weight so the rest of his body could lie flush against her own. He brushed one hand over her hair and settled her glasses back on her nose before he continued, a soft smile on his face that she suspected might not be a familiar expression.

“First of all, I don’t care about what you wear or if anything matches.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “And I’m told I’m a bit old fashioned when it comes to body hair, so as long as you’re comfortable with it I’m not going to care about shaving either.” His lips brushed her cheek. “I will always remember the day you were born and your words appeared on my skin because it was the day I realized that I might not be meant to spend my life alone.” The other cheek now.. “I promised myself that the life I’ve been living would end the day I met you, and I intend to keep that promise. I’m yours until you’re through with me.”

The kiss Victor placed on her lips next was gentle--almost chaste, even--and didn’t last more than a few heartbeats before he raised his head. “Now,” he insisted, winking at her before he continued. “The way I see it we’ve got two options. We can go back to town and wait for all this until you’ve had time to pamper yourself to your heart’s content. I’ll even buy you whatever undergarments you want. Or…” He trailed off and flashed her a grin that pretty much convinced her that he was going to be trouble. “Or I can promise not to look while I rip the panties you’re so worried about off and toss them in the bushes. Then we can get back to business.” To cap off the whole wonderful speech he bit his bottom lip and gave her a once over that could have melted those panties off her completely.

“How do I know you’ll keep your promise?” Darcy asked, internally doing a victory dance at the sultry tone she could hear in her own voice.

Victor huffed a laugh and gave her a quick, teasing kiss. “I always keep my promises.” He rocked his hips against hers again, providing the most delicious type of friction.

“Option 2, then, but don’t ruin my leggings. I like these.”

“Excellent,” he purred. He delivered another kiss--this one anything but chaste--then made his way across her jaw until he reached the shell of her ear. “Hold down your top,” he rumbled, pausing to gently nip her earlobe before sitting back on his haunches once more. He pulled off her boots and socks before peeling the leggings down, his eyes never once leaving hers.

This was not the first time that a man had gotten it into his head to rip off Darcy’s panties--or a woman, actually; there was that interesting night with a lady firefighter that she was never going to forget--so she’d prepared herself for the pain of having cloth pulled tight over particularly sensitive places. Instead, both of Victor’s hands slid up her thighs (knee to hips, totally some type of tic), worked their way beneath the bottom hem of her panties, and shredded the fabric. His nails sliced cleanly through what remained of the cotton and elastic in seconds. He tugged them off her and tossed them over his shoulder without a glance, then set about letting his lips follow that knee-to-hip path but along the inside of her thigh. There was no anxiety left in Darcy’s mind when his teeth sank into her skin just short of the spot where her leg met her torso and she let out a sound that couldn’t be called anything but a mewl of want.

“What a nice little sound,” Victor growled, his breath ghosting over the spot where she really wanted him to put that sinful mouth. “I think I’ll bite there again.”

And he did.

And by the time they’d picked themselves off the forest floor to head back into town--hand in hand--Darcy didn’t even care if he saw the scrap of cotton she swiped out of the bushes so they wouldn’t litter.

[planetsam]

I love everything you're writing!! Could you write one where El is telling Mike about what happened with her mother, and what happened in Chicago with Kali? I feel like she would kind of be wrestling with the dark side of her that brought out. Also them just catching up on what's been happening in general.

“Jane.”

Mike looks down at the girl in his arms, still in complete disbelief that they’re actually at the Snow Ball. They’re rocking to the music, her arms around his neck and his around her waist. No-one really knows how to dance at these things but Nancy is beaming at him so he must be doing something right. His focus is on Eleven. She lifts her head up and looks at him.

“What?” he asks.

“Me,” she says, “I’m Jane.”

Logically he knows she’s got a name, a proper name. But he didn’t know she was going to know it. He feels her fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck and he flattens his hands against her back, letting her know that he’s there. She licks her lips and looks down at her shoes. Mike can see she’s nervous again and he opens his mouth to tell her not to be. That she doesn’t ever have a reason to be nervous with him. But she squares her shoulders and looks up at him.

“My mom’s name is Terry, she lives with her sister. My aunt. She’s a snitch,” she continues, “I have a sister, Kali,” she frowns, “I stole Eggos. I was bad. Bitchin but bad. I ran away too. I used my mind on Hop. Everyone’s still mad at me.”

He stares down at her, trying to process everything she’s saying, but her name just keeps repeating in his head. Jane. He doesn’t know anyone with that name. He didn’t know anyone with the name Eleven either. Something crosses her eyes and she chews on her bottom lip. He feels the moment she starts to pull away and that kicks him out of his stupor.

“Sorry,” he blurts out, “I just–” he knows his ears are red and it’s only getting worse, “Jane’s a really pretty name.”

She blinks up at him, regarding him warily. Like she still might run and he’ll go another three hundred and fifty four days without seeing her. Mike’s heart aches at the thought.

“I stole eggos,” she repeats, “I ran away, Hop said I should be grounded.”

“I had to give away all my toys,” he says, “the principal says it’s a phase. That we’re not bad, it’s just a phase.”

She considers this and then nods.

“I’m supposed to be grounded starting tomorrow.”

“Me too,” she says.

His throat tightens but he tries to smile all the same. They weren’t even sure she’d come here. His mother had called him selfish after the twelfth chance. Maybe he is. But he doesn’t want to go through another three hundred fifty days without her. She looks down again, as if she’s arranging her thoughts and then looks up at him.

“Are you mad at me?” She asks finally.

Mike shakes his head.

“Why did you keep running away?” he asks finally.

She looks up at him with wide eyes and he swallows, fighting not to hold her closer in case he scares her away.

“You were at the school. My house too. There-there. Not just listening. I kept running after you—“

“You weren’t supposed to see me,” she mumbles and he’s torn between feeling bad and wanting to be angry.

“Why not?” he asks.

“It wasn’t safe,” she says shaking her head, “you had to be safe.”

“So you went to someone else?!”

She stares at him, surprise written all over her face. Mike knows it’s dumb that he’s jealous of the police chief, but the idea of El going to someone else for help makes him feel like he swallowed bugs. It’s not even one of the other guys either. Though he’s not sure if that would make it better or worse. Eleven tilts her head to the side, her eyes taking in his appearance and Mike pauses.

“Are you jealous?” she asks. There’s a funny roaring in his ears as he realizes that, ok, he might be a little jealous. All he can do is nod. Eleven positively beams at him and he wonders if that’s a good or a bad thing in her book. “I was jealous too,” she continues, “I saw you with Max at the school.”

“I wanted her to be you,” he blurts out and she nods, looking wise beyond her years.

“I wanted to go to you,” she says.

He can’t help but smile at that, even though he wishes that she had. He gets why she didn’t he really does. But that doesn’t make this any easier. For right now though, all they can do is hold each other and sway in time with the song, not looking anything like the other middle schoolers Mike sees looking at them curiously. He doesn’t care though, not at all. They’re at the Snow Ball and nothing else really matters.

They spend the whole night dancing.

“My aunt called me Janey,” she tells him during one slow song, “nicknames are supposed to make your name shorter.”

He thinks of what she said about her aunt snitching and nods in solidarity.

“She sounds like a real mouth breather.”

Eleven agrees.

“You, uh, you said you had a sister?” Mike tries.

“She’s not like Nancy,” Eleven says, looking over at his sister. Mike isn’t sure if it’s because Nancy seems to be the first girl around her age she’s interacted with or what, but she has a tendency to glorify his sister. “She wanted to hurt people.”

Mike knows Elven would be more than within her rights to hurt more people. He has seen her kill hallways full of people, so he can’t say he never has. But all of those people were trying to hurt her first, so some part of him thinks she was justified. He tightens his arms around her, his thumb on the skin exposed by the neck of her dress. She sighs and burrows into his chest, like she can hide there. He wishes that she could. He wishes that they could stay like this always.

“Your name’s really pretty,” he says, he can feel her nose crinkle.

“It doesn’t feel like mine,” she admits.

“Well you just got it,” he explains, “it’s brand new. Maybe one day it will?” she glances up at him, “if it doesn’t we can keep calling you El,” he adds quickly, “we can say it’s your middle name.”

“Middle name?” she repeats.

For a second the look on her face is completely familiar and he’s somehow a foot shorter huddled in a blanket fort explaining something in every way he can think of until he sees that flash of recognition in her eyes. Back when he’d spent hours thinking up the way to tell her what the Snow Ball was and if there was a way to ask her without it being odd. Or her feeling bad if she didn’t want to go with him. It never occurred to him how things would be. How it would take a full year for them to get there.

“Yeah, sometimes people have middle names. And if you and someone else have the same name, sometimes they’ll use the middle name to tell you apart.”

Eleven considers this and looks at him.

“Do you have a middle name?” She asks.

“It’s Theodore, but I’m the only Mike in our grade so no-one needs to use it.”

“So you’re Michael Theodore Wheeler and I’m Jane Eleven Hopper.”

“Yeah, that’s us,” Mike says with an easy smile.

Eleven beams and wraps her arms around him tighter. Every second that she’s really and tactile he feels better. Like someone’s fitting him back together. It’s overwhelming but he wouldn’t trade it. Not for anything. There’s no more voids to scream into, no more empty spaces or sharp edges that reflect his anger back at him. There’s no more echoes that make everything so much worse. He doesn’t realize how tight he’s holding her until she taps the back of his neck.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, feeling his cheeks go red.

Eleven shakes her head, she gets it. He knows she does. She waivers only for a second before she pushes herself up on her toes and presses her lips to the corner of his mouth. He turns and their noses bump, sending them back. He’s surprised because every kiss so far, he’s initiated. He’s all set to apologize but something determined sparks in her eyes and his head turns slightly like it’s being angled by an invisible set of hands before she tries again.

He cups her cheek this time, exploring more as fireworks go off behind his eyes. Her arms tighten around his neck. He gets the feeling of something brushing across his cheek though her arms don’t move. He realizes that she’s doing the same thing, but while he has his hands she has her power. It’s an odd but not unpleasant sensation as it skims down his neck, picking a spot to stop that makes him shiver. She pulls back quickly, looking up at him.

“Okay?” She asks, unsure and he nods.

“Yeah, definitely okay,” he says, “I’m ticklish there.”

Her eyebrows draw together and invisible fingers wiggle on the spot, making him struggle not to laugh. Eleven gives him a grin that makes it all worth it before he reaches with his fingers to the spot. He half expects to encounter something. The sensation retreats immediately and he looks at her.

“Sorry, is that bad?” He asks.

“Not bad,” she shakes her head, “different.”

She furrows her brow and he opens his mouth to tell her to stop when something wraps around his fingers. He looks down to see if the air is any different but it isn’t. The feeling is unmistakable as his fingers are lightly tugged back to her waist and his hand is settled there, right before the other is briefly squeeze. She looks up at him to see if he’s okay and he nods, right before her nose starts to bleed. He grabs the tissues from his back pocket that he put there on a whim and tugs her off the dance floor, taking her under the bleachers and pressing the tissues to her nose.

“Are you okay?” He asks and she nods quickly.

“I’m okay. Still tired from closing the gate,” she shrugs, “but I wanted to do that,” she adds quickly.

“I brought them for you,” he tells her, suddenly finding it important that she knows, “the tissues, I didn’t want you to have blood on your nose.”

“Thank you,” she says, taking the tissue down. He tilts her head up and he appraises her nose, “it’s stopped.”

“You’re good,” he says.

“I’m great,” she corrects, “can we go dance again?”

It feels like the final piece of whatever’s been missing slots back into place and he nods. He’s spent the last year slowly becoming the kind of kid who hides under the bleachers and sulks during dances. Now though Eleven grabs his hand and pulls him out of there and back onto the dance floor. As long as she’s there, as long as they’re together, Mike doesn’t think either of them will have a reason to hide in the shadows again.

[irondevilpunisher]

My Punisher Review

*No Spoilers*

This is the series I’ve waited years for, ever since the 2003 film starring Thomas Jane (which I still love btw). I don’t know what it is about the Punisher’s story of a broken man out for revenge that has me so entranced, because lets face it this isn’t an original plot. Its been done many times; example Death Wish. I guess it has a lot to do with how its executed that keeps the Punisher fresh and interesting just like its titular antihero. Plus I’m a sucker for antiheroes and people just can’t get enough of this guy. So did the series do this iconic MCU character justice? Yes it did and more. However there are some issues I had with the series that I will get into but first let me talk about the highlights.

 Let me start off by talking about the acting powerhouse that is Jon Bernthal. For me he stole the show in DD2 so I didn’t expect anything less in his own standalone series. And believe me he absolutely kills it in this. He kicked ass. In my opinion Frank Castle is Jon Bernthal’s baby now and forever; he embodies that character like no other. I’ve loved Jon’s work since his Walking Dead days (despite my loathing for Shane’s character). When I heard he got cast as the Punisher for Daredevil’s 2nd season I thought “hah, I wanna see what this guys’s got” sure enough Jon blew me away with his outstanding performances and won me over indefinitely. I just did not expect to fall even more in love with this character under Jon Bernthal when I had Shane still lodged in my mind. That said entering DD2, Shane was nowhere in sight. 

He definitely had quite the load to work with but Jon seamlessly brings a near perfect blend of vulnerability, humanity and lethal infusion. What he did with the Punisher in Daredevil’s 2nd run, he takes it to the next level in the spinoff series. The layers and complexities he gives Castle are nothing short of brilliant. One minute he can make you laugh, then scared, then break your heart which isn’t an easily accomplished feat at all considering how brutal Frank can be. You wouldn’t think it watching how violently Castle exacts his own brand of justice but Jon’s portrayal for the most part comes across as oddly endearing, sympathetic, charming and even relatable. Frank is such a tortured and tragic individual. He’s just likable even when he’s not trying to be. He was a family man, a marine and a patriot to his country. Frank had problems in his marriage yet was completely in love with his wife. Struggled with ptsd which is why he had issues connecting with his family and maintaining other relationships. And he’s incredibly selfless. Frank’s torn love for his fellow soldiers and his family is actually bittersweet and very human.  

There is no one more deserving of their own series than Frank Castle. And Jon hit a grand slam with this one.

Moving onto the second highlight of the Punisher series, David Lieberman aka Micro aka Frank’s new geeky buddy/partner in crime. This guy was freaking awesome! I mean seriously I loved this character right out of the gate. He stole all his scenes. And the best part about Micro is he wasn’t just there to be the comic relief or the techy sidekick, he really humanizes the Punisher. Brings out a lighter more laid back side to Frank’s persona. The two characters just play off each other so well, Bernthal and Ebon Moss-Bachrach have such a natural instant onscreen chemistry, its actually touching. I could watch their scenes all day. I really enjoyed following and witnessing the connection between these two men deepen as they worked together throughout the series. Their relationship is without a doubt the core of this show. And Moss-Bachrach made me feel so much for Micro’s character in terms of his isolation and alienation from his family. I couldn’t imagine anyone else playing opposite to Jon’s respective Punisher. Micro is literally the best friend Castle could’ve asked for, totally has his back 100%. Such a welcoming addition to the Punisher’s brutal world. 

Frank really needed this guy to keep him balanced. Polar opposites yet they have so much in common at the same time. Its like watching the Die Hard version of the Odd Couple only better. I don’t know what’s in store for Micro next season but (not to spoil you) I just have a terrible feeling he may suffer the same fate as Frank judging by how his seasonal arc ended. I sincerely hope not but if we go by what happens in the comics you know that the Punisher/Micro are a package deal. They’re in it together all the way. 

 Other highlights include Ben Barnes as the show’s villain Billy Russo aka Jigsaw/former best friend of Frank Castle. Holy crap this guy was scary as he was sexy. The interesting theme I found in this series was human nature and how sometimes it can be catastrophic. While Frank is so open about his grief and rage. Russo is the opposite, he’s the calm before the storm. His rage is more on the inside which makes him all the more dangerous and a worthy adversary to Castle. Strangely enough I really liked this character. He doesn’t set out to be evil just doing what he feels is right. Russo harbors so much pain and anger, dealt a lousy hand in life. And Barnes kicks a hell of a lot of ass in this role. I even enjoyed his complicated romance with Dinah Madani. They had nice chemistry together and quite a few steamy scenes that were pretty ship worthy which makes their inevitable conflict that much more heart-wrenching. Although I wasn’t entirely fond of Madani in the beginning and found her many times naive when it came to Russo, Amber Rose Revah did play the part best to her ability. She also had a fascinating cat/mouse thing going on with Frank Castle and I loved her dynamic with fellow agent Sam Stein. 

Most of the supporting characters are good and compliment the show’s lead very well. The flashbacks and dreams of Frank with Maria were bittersweet and heartbreaking as they were essential. In a way Maria acts as Frank’s guardian angel and conscience. Flawless chemistry between these actors. It hurt knowing Maria and the kids were dead yet I kept wishing they weren’t every time Frank had a moment with them. I have to commend the casting decisions for the Punisher people because they really wanted actors who gelled in the limited time they had. And fortunately they did. Jon does some fantastic work involving the Frank and Maria Castle stuff, particularly in the last couple episodes of the series. 

Sarah Lieberman is a doll. I absolutely loved her character and her interaction with both Frank Castle and her husband Micro. Jaime Ray Newman is gorgeous, talented and so underrated as an actress. She’s strong as she is vulnerable and sweet. She really brought out a softer and much kinder side of Frank that was needed to keep his character grounded enough so that the Punisher wasn’t just strictly about murdering people. In fact her chemistry with Bernthal and Moss-Bachrach was an accidental surprise and really had me torn because after watching this series I proudly ship the hell out of them both. The unexpected connection that Frank develops with the Lieberman family is some of the most powerful bits of storytelling. This broken man who’d lost his own family he  in turn gains another and its some of the most simple yet entertaining parts about this show. I just really enjoyed Frank’s interaction with Sarah and the kids. And I’m looking forward to where the writers take them next season, hopefully its in a good place. 

Karen Page, it was so nice seeing her again after Defenders. DAW is just stunning as she is awesome as this character. She wasn’t in the Punisher that much but I will say this show gave her a hell of a lot more story time than Defenders did. I really looked forward to watching Karen extend her reporting ventures and learning how she’d been dealing with the aftermath of Matt Murdock/Daredevil’s supposed death. Suffice for me to say this girl was hurting badly. Though [minor spoiler] Matt nor Foggy’s names escaped her lips even once on the Punisher, the way DAW played it so subtly internal made me think they were on her mind the entire time she was onscreen. Karen was definitely wearing masks while she was in Frank’s presence. Hiding from him and herself as much as she was using work to escape her pain. And that obvious grief only provoked a more reckless side in Karen to say the least. I won’t say what that was of course being that this review is supposed to be spoiler free. 

The one thing I will touch on about Karen’s appearance that I didn’t enjoy would have to be the plot she was given in the Punisher. Which brings me to my low-lights of the series.

The Kastle stuff was fantastic in DD2 I loved their scenes and their dialogue in that season of Daredevil. Both Bernthal and DAW managed to create an interesting dynamic between Frank and Karen, a unique bond, mutual respect and understanding. And I thought that relationship would’ve translated beautifully in the spinoff as it’d done on DD. However in my humble opinion it did not. I just didn’t feel the connection between these two characters was genuine  as it had been in DD2. While some stuff was touching [like the hug between Karen and Frank at her apartment] there were parts about their interaction that had me rolling my eyes. I’m talking cringe-worthy moments [like Frank’s little “she’s family” outburst with Micro and the elevator]. It just felt so out of place especially when Karen’s name did not come up on Frank’s radar when she wasn’t in episodes. There were times it seemed as if I were watching a soapy Kastle fanfic instead of the EPIC story of Frank Castle/The Punisher. 

Don’t even get me started on the fact that Karen’s role in this series was minuscule or that the B-plot she was involved in was horribly predictable, badly written and unimaginative. Far as I’m concerned the whole Lewis Wilson arc was the weakest part about the Punisher. It only served to give Karen’s character an excuse to stick around longer and to satisfy the dreams of a certain section in this fandom. I understand very well why Karen was used instead of Claire Temple to bridge Punisher with Daredevil; she developed a bond with him. It only made sense for the writers to use her for that purpose. But for me this is what slowed the series down. And as much as I love Karen and seeing her developed further this show did nothing for her. We didn’t get any insight into where her head was at after Defenders which is what the Punisher really needed to keep all these Netflix MCU worlds connected. She doesn’t really share any personal or meaningful conversations with Frank as she’d done previously. So because of that, Karen Page’s addition into the Punisher felt disjointed and awkward. 

The veterans/gun-control plot part of the Lewis arc really wasn’t needed. It worked for an episode after that this part of the plot took me out of Frank Castle’s story. Hopefully next time the Punisher writers will stay focused on the main storyline they’re telling and less on the preachy bits about today’s society.  

Overall this was a really strong start for a freshman series. Its flawed and far from perfect but still badass and entertaining. The action/fight sequences and stunts were gritty and excellently choreographed. There’s plenty of guts and gore in this show so if you have a weak stomach you might want to avoid the Punisher. And the bodycount is fairly high, it wouldn’t be the Punisher if it wasn’t. The pacing is decent. The writing in most of the episodes was modest, most notably in the last 3 episodes. Its definitely one of my top favorite Netflix MCU shows. I sat on the edge of my seat from the start to the end. So much potential for better seasons to come but all and all I finished this show feeling very satisfied and wanting more. 

A worthy addition to the netflix MCU. Oh and that freaking intro man it has to be my favorite by far!

 Final thoughts go to my fellow Karedevil shippers:

I know its been a rocky road for all of us after DD2 and Defenders. Some of you have chosen to abandon ship while others are only slowly losing faith in the DD writers. It might seem hopeless right now but as I said in my Karedevil post  Karen Page’s path is still pointed towards Matt Murdock’s. Her state of suffering in the Punisher only clarifies how much Karen still loves Matt. Her fears and concerns for Frank’s well-being came from a place of her own personal loss. She did not want to lose another person she cares about just as she felt she’s lost Matt, I strongly believe this.

Its not over between them its only the beginning. Besides no one ever said the road to true love would be easy. So hang in there guys DD3 ‘Born Again’ is coming and I anticipate great things. Charlie believes in Karedevil and knows they’re meant to be just as we do. The only thing the Punisher writers did for Frank and Karen was give their fans a few tasty snaps and closure, kinda like what DD2 and Defenders did for Mattelektra fans. There is still plenty of hope left for Matt and Karen now that she knows his secret and that they remain part of each other’s lives. Until then we carry on chilled. 

Now here’s a lovely Charlie gif for you all.

[alymation]

The Excellence that is Pixar’s Soul (2020)

We all know that Pixar movies are generally well written and have a tendency to pull on the heart strings with relatable themes and wholesome characters. The company was definitely proven, time and again, that they can make adults cry if they wanted to and know just how to do it. Yet, though some may see it as formulaic; and to a degree it may be, Pixar seems to be able to evolve with the times and adapt to the social climate of the present. This is what I realized when I watched their latest Animated Movie: Soul. Soul is a little less ugly crying and more happy realization tears, for me at least. 

Soul is about, Joe Gardner, A part-time high school band teacher, who lands the gig of a lifetime playing with one of the best Jazz Musicians: Dorothea Williams and her band the same day that the school offers him a permanent full-time job. Joe has the typical mother who just wants him to be stable in life and take the permanent teaching job of course but his heart was in the music and in playing Jazz.

 While on his way home from auditioning and landing the gig with Dorothea though, what appeared to be the day his life would change forever, his life ended. (Don’t text or call while walking). Joe finds himself on the path to the “Great Beyond. Quite freaked out of course, Joe jumps off the conveyor belt like path and find himself in the “Great Before” or what they now call the “You” Seminar. He meets the Jerry’s, the entirety of the universe condensed into forms humans can comprehend. After the mandatory tour of the You Seminar, Joe is brought to the Mentor’s orientation and is promptly paired up with an unborn soul called “22″ who has been in the You Seminar for a long time and hasn’t been able to gain her “earth badge”, A badge that would allow a soul to get to earth. 

As he quite literally stole the name of the actual mentor who was supposed to be there, Joe begins to show 22 his life and, in the process, realizes how his life amounted to nothing (something most of us can relate to). With 22′s apathetic feelings toward being born into the world and Joe’s desperation to get back to his life to fulfil his life’s purpose, they device a short lived plan to get her earth badge and give it to Joe so he can go back to earth. As mentioned, this was short lived and they resorted to seek the help of Soul mystic Moonwind who traverses to the soul world to help lost souls get over their “obsessions”. Apparently, when you really get into the zone with something you tend to lose yourself to what you’re doing and momentarily traverse to the Cosmic Realm. Of course there are those who are swallowed by the things that they do and become lost souls. 

Moonwind successfully gets Joe back to earth but 22 was pushed to earth with him. Joe woke up in the hospital in a cat’s body while 22 was in Joe’s. Following a string of rather funny scenes, they meet Moonwind on earth and ask him to put Joe back in his body and get 22 back to the You Seminar. They agree to meet at 6:30 in front of the lounge that Joe is supposed to play at that night and so Joe and 22 head back to his apartment. They run into Dorothea and her band on the way and Joe “loses” his chance to play with the band as Dorothea thought he was going crazy seeing him in a hospital gown in the street. Though, the band’s drummer, who got Joe the gig in the first place, told him to still show up at the lounge early and he’ll talk to Dorothea about it. With that sliver of hope, Joe, or 22 in Joe’s body, gets ready. As he does, 22, who is still in Joe’s body meets one of Joe’s student’s and is fascinated by how she, one minute, wanted to give up on Jazz and all of a sudden wanted to keep at it. 22 also meets one of Joe’s friends, Dez the barber, after a terrible hair accident. She is equally fascinated at the thought of Dez being happy despite not achieving his life long dream of being a vet. Lastly, 22 meets Joe’s Mom after tearing the pants of his suit and Joe expresses to his Mom, through dictating to 22, why he loves Jazz so much and of course, His mom offers him the suit of his father and altered it to fit him. 

As 6:30 arrives, 22, Joe and Moonwind meet in front of the lounge as planned but 22 expresses that she wants to search for her “purpose” for living on earth and doesn’t want to go back to the You Seminar. She runs away and is chases by Joe the Cat. Through out this whole madness, another “celestial being” called Terry had been pursuing Joe and 22 as she discovered that Joe was a run away and was really supposed to already pass on. Terry catches Joe and 22 and take their souls back to the You Seminar. Miraculously, 22′s earth badge is complete and Joe attributes this to having lived his life for a day. Angered by this, 22 gives Joe her earth badge and storms off. Joe returns to earth, convinces Dorothea Williams to let him play and have the night of his life. it wasn’t until after the show that Joe still feels empty after having supposedly “achieved his dream”. His thoughts dwell to 22 and the memories that 22 made in his body along with memories of just living his own life. He traverses back into the Cosmic Realm as he gets into the zone of playing his piano and meets Moonwind who tells him that 22 has become a Lost Soul. 

Joe tries to confront 22 in her lost soul form but she runs away from him. Eventually, 22 “swallows” Joe and Joe sees what’s inside the storm that has surrounded 22 and manages to get her back. He tells her that she is ready to go to earth and should go to earth and live her own life. In true Pixar fashion though, this wasn’t the end for Joe either. As he was on his way to the Great Beyond, the Jerry’s decided to give Joe another chance at life because he had inspired them. 

As we are discussing the story of Soul, I would like to take this time to just admire the amazing Animation that this movie show cases. Lighting, clothes, dust? All beautiful and smooth and just perfect. The idea of making the “Jerry’s” somewhat 2D in comparison to the souls in the You Seminar is genius and something I’ll get into later. In addition, I don’t think I can say anything to justify how much I love the soundtrack of this movie. Personally, I was never the biggest fan of Jazz. I mean, I admire the talent that musicians have but this movie just used music and the theme of it so well in this movie that I can’t put it into words.

Going back to the story of Soul and how I feel about the film, It was, in my opinion very very well done. They had a dedicated research team, much like how they did for Coco, that made sure that how they portrayed Joe and the African American community was accurate and not stereotypical. Which should honestly always be a part of movie making especially if the story you’re trying to tell is particularly specific to one ethnic group. Being Asian, I didn’t know much about the accuracy of the movie to African American culture so I can’t comment on the accuracy of their portrayal but actually having a team to make sure that you were being accurate is something to mention and applauded. They didn’t just want to make a film that appeals to the African American community, No. They made the decision to hire people who could help them accurately portray the culture and the people. Let’s hope Disney’s upcoming movie, Raya made a decision to do this too as the trailer and promotional materials seem to give off a somewhat South East Asian vibe. 

In terms of quality of the story. I believe they did a superb job with getting their message across. The “obsession” with achieving your dream can sometimes cloud your present. It’s here that the old saying: “It’s not about where you’re going, it’s about what you do to get to where you’re going”. In this sense, we get to see that Joe is convinced that his purpose in life was to be a Jazz Musician and play Jazz professionally. What this movie tells us that, you weren’t born with a predetermined “purpose”. In juxtaposition with the rest of the You Seminar where souls are given “personalities”, the last thing a soul must have before getting their earth badge is what they called a “spark”. This supposed “spark” was initially presented, or what the audience was made to think, as a soul’s purpose. It was by the end of the Film do we realize that this “spark” isn’t a soul’s purpose. In fact, the Jerry even seemed to laugh at the idea that mentors thought about the purpose of their lives. That last box gets ticked when a soul is ready to live. 

Personally, “When a soul is ready to live” seems rather vague. How does an infant soul know when they are “ready” when most of the souls who are on earth don’t even know when their “ready” to fall in love or open themselves up to other people. The concept of being “ready” is rather vague and subjective. To a degree it does explain why 22 took so long before she found her “spark” but it doesn’t explain what was it on earth that made her get her spark. In my opinion, that last box is ticked when you find something that makes you want to live. Something that makes a soul excited about life. I think this runs better with the themes of the movie as it is about living your life to the fullest every day you get. “Carpe Diem” as they say. I think 22 got her spark on earth and not at the You seminar because what excited 22 about earth wasn’t any invention or hobby or activity that was in the Hall of Everything, it was the people. The people and how unpredictable they and life in general was.

At first it was the unpredictable-ness of life on earth is what scared 22 as she expressed that she preferred to stay in the You Seminar because, although it wasn’t exciting, she knew what to expect. It was this same unpredictable-ness was what made 22 want to live. She experienced it with the sudden change of mind of Joe’s student from wanting to quit Jazz to suddenly wanting to keep at it. She experienced it with finding out that Dez the Barber was still happy despite not having achieved his dream of being a vet and she experienced it with Joe’s Mom who, despite being firm about wanting him to have a secure and stable life, changed her mind and supported Joe at the lounge. 

This is what Joe realized by the end of the film as he was reminiscing about his memories. He achieved his dream, sure but this made it bland for him now as he was able to predict what was going to happen to him after that first show. Dorothea Williams told Joe as they exited the lounge: “We come back tomorrow and do it all again”. This didn’t sit well with Joe and realized that he was so blinded by his supposed purpose of living and achieving it that he was expecting something more spectacular. He romanticized what his life would be after that night so much that when he got there, it didn’t live up to his expectations. 

Soul shows us that Life is unpredictable and that’s not a bad thing. You may not always know what to expect and what’s going to happen but that’s what makes it worth living to the fullest. Of course it is still very important to have goals and dreams and something to work towards but it shouldn’t hinder you from experiencing the roller coaster ride that is life. Achieving those dreams shouldn’t be the only thing that defines your life. Soul is telling us that you are more than your goals in life, you are more than what you achieve or didn’t achieve. You decide who you are, what you do and how you do it and remember to not limit yourself to one thing.  

Some people tend to forget this. They get enveloped with not knowing what to do with their lives and with not achieving the goals they set up for themselves that they don’t realize that it’s Ok to not know. In the You Seminar, 22 became a lost soul because she was taken over by the lack of purpose of her life. The amount of people/mentors that have told her that she wasn’t good enough and that she wasn’t going anywhere took a toll on her and she succumbed to it. Society like’s to pressure people into achieving their dreams and in being successful if not for themselves for their family or the people around them.

As an Asian, I’ve personally had that problem. The constant pressure to find what you’re good at and hone that skill so we can make money off of it one day and be successful is very real. When we’re not doing well in school or earning money or doing something “meaningful” in society’s eyes, our life is being wasted. Constantly being strained about the purpose of our lives and what we’re living for is quite burdening and often times, when we do “find” that purpose we let it drive our whole life closing off all possible roads that can lead us to other things that we also find interesting. 

As much as it is good to “know your purpose” for living to keep you on track, we should also keep in mind that life is unpredictable, One day the purpose of your life may be one thing and the next it could be something else. Nothing is constant. Everything fluctuates one way or the other. Go with it. 

[onceuponaprincessworld]

CaptainSwan FF One-shots Recs p.5

Hello Beautiful Fandom, look I made another rec list! Thanks to CS AU Week we have some lovely new one shots featuring our favorite couple, but this list also includes some old one-shots that I believe you should check out, If you haven’t already. Hope you enjoy.

You can find here my other lists as well. 

Side note, I try to tag the authors by their tumblr name, but I couldn’t find some, if you know it, let me know. 

But Consider This...Aliens, @welllpthisishappening

Killian Jones is going to lose his mind. He's never going to sleep again. Because there is an alien living in the apartment above his. And maybe he's ok with it. Yeah, definitely losing his mind.

Prompt, @its-imperator-furiosa

Emma and Killian has been dating for a while but they haven't tell their friends yet, because they don't know how Emma's brother David will react, since he ones told Killian to not go near his sister, but he walks on them kissing or something and he yells Finally.

Past the Clouds, We’ll Find the Stars, @blowmiakisscolin

CS + Adoption and more: A dash of angst, a sprinkling of humor & a whole lotta fluff.

Prompt, @initiala

You buy your man a mug without looking inside... 

it’s a party in the usa, @jmosfreckles

A Fourth of July AU written for CS AU week day 1: Holiday AU. America vs. Great Britain antics ensue.

Old Habits Die Hard, Ok?, @jmosfreckles

I kissed you goodbye on accident - old habits die hard, ok?!

worth the risk, worth the guarantee, @piratesails

The rule is simple enough: don't fall for your best friend. No matter how loudly her laugh echoes in your head in the middle of the night, or how beautifully endearing the freckles that climb up her arms look under the afternoon sun. Every single movie and book and story he's come across has warned him of this in one way or another.

And yet, Killian finds it hard to run out of reasons why Emma Swan is the most perfect person he has and will ever meet.

Unhand the Carnations, @blowmiakisscolin

CS Flower Thief AU: I saw a prompt on Tumblr (see notes) and I did a thing. Emma catches Killian stealing flowers from her garden and assumes he's being a cheap date. She insists on coming with him to find out whether the girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft...and he doesn't know how to break it to her that he's taking the flowers to the graveyard.

Never Drinking Again, @its-like-a-story-of-love

Emma Swan wakes up on her 21st birthday with no recollection of what happened the night before. All she has to piece everything together are her Snapchat story and a handsome stranger. (Drunken Snapchat story AU) 

You Make Me Better, @ilovemesomekillianjones

CS Neighbors AU where Emma is a nurse and Killian is her definitely-faking-it hypochondriac neighbor who uses illnesses and injuries as an excuse to talk to her.

You Look Happier, @cutieodonoghue

Radio DJ David Nolan’s sister Emma moves to town to be close to him as he prepares for his upcoming wedding to Mary Margaret. Maybe he’s just a little bit crazy from wedding stress, but he kinda wants to set her up with his co-host and best friend Killian. 

i’m missing you like crazy, @cutieodonoghue

“Established long distance relationship, one of them surprises the other by showing up right before midnight [on New Years Eve].” with a side helping of vloggers au! (a mixture of angst and fluff beyond this point)  

already in love,   @icapturedkindness

For CS AU week beloved tropes - friends to lovers.

a dare and a truth..., @startswithhope

Bed sharing prompt: “Would you please get comfortable and go the fuck to sleep already?”

Body Say, @seriouslyhooked

AU where Emma and Killian are neighbors in Boston. Emma gets home from a girls night only to stumble upon Killian who she has been crushing on since he moved in. Sparks fly and it is basically just a mini smut fest if I’m honest, but we then get a flash forward to see what happens with Emma and Killian in the future. I’m sure I have done a oneshot or two like this before, but hey, we can always use more fluff right?

Frigging in the Rigging, @passing-fanciful

Friends do things for other friends' birthdays. No big deal, right?

Camped Out,  @always-a-slut-for-pirates

A reluctant Emma goes camping with David, Mary Margaret and Killian.

the love boat, @captainnagata

“How good is your mother with dealing with the unexpected?”

“Why?”

“Because ship captains have the power to officiate weddings and the idea of her own daughter entering a marriage in a matter of days, on a cruise, could sober her up enough to leave you alone for good.”

a (sort of) cinderella story, @jennifer-morrison

sure she sits with him for a while after he’s put henry to bed following a late stakeout and sure she invites him over to make dinner more often than she doesn’t but that’s their usual. it isn’t because she likes him, likes him. (no one tell henry he agreed to this silly masquerade because he likes, likes her, okay?)

something so magic about you, @mycaptainswanjones

Emma Swan just found the perfect gift for Mary Margaret's birthday. The only problem? A blue-eyed stranger with a ridiculously attractive face and accent just stole it from right under her nose. Modern AU. Captain Swan.

The Kinship Harvest, @thesschesthair

We’re going to pretend the portal at the end of S3 never opened and Zelena was defeated without any interruptions. We’re also going to pretend Emma couldn’t go through with leaving for New York much to everyone’s relief. We’re also going to pretend that I can make up a believable holiday for the Enchanted forest lol.

Untitled, @distant-rose

Emma Swan is a crusty twice divorced bailsbond person who is a lone wolf by nature, excluding the company of her seven-year old son, of course. Her occasional companion of choice is a Seattle detective who is also a divorcee and an ex-military guy who got his hand blown off on some super secret Black Op mission in Afghanistan. Killian Jones is nearly as crusty as Emma and a closet sci-fi nerd who never fails to help Emma with a difficult skip or babysit her son last minute. There’s always been an unspoken attraction between them that’s held back by their memory of their failed marriages.

The Worst/Best Christmas Ever,  @captainhookcaptainfreedom

When their flight home is cancelled, Emma is convinced that she and Henry are going to have the worst Christmas ever. However, their next store neighbor, Killian Jones, has different ideas. 

stranger to the ground, @evil–isnt–born

Test pilot Killian Jones and engineer Emma Swan spend their days making history as part of the Avro Arrow program. When the program is suddenly cancelled and the jets ordered destroyed, the choice becomes whether to let it become a thing of the past or save a piece of their shared history.

STRAIGHT AS AN ARROW (TO YOU),  @nightships 

The Avro Arrow program was a shining beacon for Canada - when it was cancelled, questions went unanswered, and reporter Emma Swan has no intentions of leaving them that way. Major Killian Jones couldn't agree less, especially given his own history with the program, but Emma wouldn't be Emma if she let that stop her.

Too Hot (Hot Damn), @this-too-too-sullied-flesh

Emma just doesn’t know what’s hotter--the weather and the fact that the air conditioning is out in her building, or her neighbor.

stop talking in codes,  cocoa-and-rum

Killian Jones has been in love with Emma Swan for as long as he can remember. He often told himself it wouldn't be wise to fall for his best friend, but his heart has a queer way of never listening to his brain, especially when a breathtakingly alluring woman with pretty green eyes and lovely blonde waves is involved.

1-2 Crush on You, @allrightfine

"We'll skip all this, go right to a place where you're more comfortable. We'll want to aim for that sweet spot between knowing all those little idiosyncrasies and them becoming annoying, I'd imagine." (vaguely Halloween-flavored AU smutty fluff!).

A Lifetime of Kissing, @justanotherwannabeclassic

There were many things that were becoming of a princess. The ability to carry on polite conversation, fluency in many languages, and an appreciation of both the arts and sciences were such things. What wasn’t becoming of a princess was drunkenly marrying a Naval lieutenant while on a diplomatic visit to a nearby kingdom. (Lieutenant Duckling).

[weekendwarriorblog]

The Weekend Warrior 9/11/20 – I AM WOMAN, BROKEN HEARTS GALLERY, RENT-A-PAL, UNPREGNANT AND MORE!

Thankfully, we’re getting a slower week this week after the past few weeks of absolute insanity with so many new releases. This week, we also get a nice string of movies about women that are mostly made by women directors, so hopefully these won’t get lost in the shuffle of theaters reopening.

To be perfectly honest, I went into Unjoo Moon’s I AM WOMAN (Quiver Distribution) – this week’s “Featured Flick” -- thinking it was a doc about ‘70s pop sensation Helen Reddy. Imagine my surprise to discover that it actually was a narrative film with Tilda Cobham-Hervey playing the Australian singer who moved to New York in 1966 after winning a contest, expecting a record deal but only winding up with disappointment.  Once there, she’d meet journalist Lilian Roxon (Danielle Macdonald, being able to use her real Australian accent for once) and Jeff Weld (Evan Peters), the man who would become her manager and then husband. Once the couple move to L.A. with Helen’s daughter Traci (from her previous marriage), things began to pick up at the same time as Reddy starts dealing with issues in her marriage and friendship with Roxon.

Listen, I get it. To some (or maybe all) younger people, including film critics, Helen Reddy represents the cheesier side of ‘70s music. I only know her music, since I was a young kid who listened to AM Top 40 radio for much of the ‘70s, but by the end of the decade, I had already switched to metal, punk and noisier rock. As you can tell from watching I Am Woman, Reddy is a particularly interesting music personality, particularly once you realize how hard she struggled to get into the business with a husband who only feigned to support her after dragging her to L.A. for “her career.”

There were many takeaways from watching Moon’s film, but one of the bigger ones is how amazing Cobham-Hervey is at portraying a woman that few of us may have actually seen perform even on television. I’m not sure if Cobham-Hervey did any of her own singing or is lip-syncing the whole time, but it doesn’t matter because she instills so much joy into the performances, especially the two times she sings the highly-inspirational title song live.

Although there isn’t a ton of major drama in Reddy’s life, most that does exist revolves around her relationship with Wald, who is depicted by Peters as an out-of-control coke-sniffing monster. Those in Hollywood may have dealt with Wald as a movie producer or during his stint as Sylvester Stallone’s manager, and only they will know how exaggerated this performance is. Far more interesting is Helen’s friendship with Macdonald’s Roxon which would inspire her to perform the song “You and Me Against the World.”  (Seriously, if you want a good cry, throw that song on after watching I Am Woman.)

Moon does a great job with the material, whether it’s recreating New York in the ‘60s – often using music to set the tone of the period -- or by framing Reddy’s story with Phyllis Schlaffly’s fight against the ERA, as depicted in FX’s mini-series Mrs. America.  Still, it never loses track of Reddy’s journey and her role as a mother to Traci and slightly less to Wald’s son, Jordan. The movie ends with a wonderful and tearful epilogue, and I will not lie that I was tearing up more than once while watching this movie.

I Am Woman may be relatively uncomplicated, but it’s still a compelling relaying of Reddy's amazing story bolstered by an incredible knock-em-dead performance by Tilda Cobham-Hervey. It’s also one of the most female-empowering film I’ve seen since the Ruth Bader Ginsburg movie On the Basis of Sex, starring Felicity Jones.

This week’s primary theatrical release is Natalie Krinsky’s THE BROKEN HEARTS GALLERY (Stage 6/Sony), starring Geraldine Viswanathan as Lucy, a young woman who works at a gallery who is still obsessed with her ex-coworker/boyfriend Max. On the night of her  disastrous break-up, Lucy meets-cute Nick (Dacre Montgomery from Stranger Things), who later inspires her to rid of her hoarding issues by creating the “Broken Hearts Gallery.” This is a place where people who have broken up can bring the remnants of said relationship by donating the mementos they’ve maintained from their partners as sentimental value.

I’m a big fan of Viswanathan from her appearance in Blockers and TBS’ “Miracle Workers” series, as she’s clearly very talented as a comic actress, but I couldn’t help but go into this with more than a little cynicism, because it does follow a very well-worn rom-com formula that can be traced right back to When Harry Met Sally. Yup, another one.  Much of this movie comes across like a bigger budget version of a movie that might play Tribeca Film Festival, and I wish I could say that was a compliment because I’ve seen a lot of good movies at Tribeca. But also just as many bad ones.

The problem is that The Broken Hearts Gallery isn’t very original, and its roots are especially obvious when it starts interspersing the recently-heartbroken giving testimonials. It’s also a little pretentious, because rather than the real New York City that would be recognizable to anyone who lives there, it’s more of a Millennial woke fantasy where everyone is a 20-something LGBTQ+ of color.  Even so, the main trio of Lucy, Nick and Nick’s business partner Marcos (Arturo Castro from Broad City) do keep things fun even when things are getting predictable.

To be honest, I’ll be perfectly happy to see Viswanathan become the next Meg Ryan, because part of the reason why I warmed up to the movie is because I thought she was quite great in it. (I hate to say it but she’ll definitely need a simple name to remember to make that happen. I’d like to suggest G-Vis… as in G-Vis, she’s awesome!) There’s no question she’s the best part of the movie, but it also thrives from some of the other women cast around her, including Molly Gordon, Phillipa Soo and (surprise, surprise!) Bernadette Peters. (At times, I was worried Lucy’s friends would get particularly annoying, but you’ll warm up to them as well.)

Krinsky’s movie is cute, and while it certainly gets a little overly sentimental at times, there are also moments that are quite heartfelt, so basically, it’s a tolerable addition to the rom-com genre. The fact that the characters are so likeable kept me from outright hating the movie, especially once it gets to its corny and somewhat predictable ending. Another thing I like about Broken Hearts Gallery is that at least it’s making an effort to have some sort of theatrical presence, including drive-in theaters.

Next up is Jon Stevenson’s RENT-A-PAL (IFC Midnight), a rather strange and very dark horror-comedy. It stars Brian Landis Folkins as David, a lonely 40-year-old living with his elderly mother suffering from dementia, who has been using the services of a dating service called Video Rendezvous. This is the ‘80s after all, so it involves getting VHS testimonials from various women. One day, David finds a tape labelled “Rent a Pal” and he decides to check it out. It turns out to be a video of a guy named Andy (Wil Wheaton aka Wesley Crusher from Star Trek: The Next Generation) who David begins having conversations with, but once David gets his chance to have a real relationship with a nice woman named Lisa (Amy Rutledge), he’s been dragged too far down the rabbit hole with Andy’s evil urgings.

This was recommended to me by my own personal rent-a-pal, Erick Weber of Awards Ace, who saw it weeks ago. I totally could understand why he would have liked it, because it’s pretty good in terms of coming up with an original idea using elements that at least us older guys can relate to (especially the living with your Mom part which I had to do a few years ago).  I wasn’t sure but I generally thought I knew where it was going, because David’s trajectory always seemed to be heading towards My Friend Dahmer or Maniac territory. What I liked about Folkins’ performance is that you generally feel for him right up until he gets to that point. I also really liked his innocent relationship with Lisa and was hoping things that wouldn’t get as dark as where they eventually end up. I also have to draw attention to Wheaton’s performance, because as one might expect if you only know him from the “Star Trek” show he did as a kid, this is a very different role for him similar to Seann Michael Scott in last year’s Bloodline.

Either way, Stevenson is a decent writer and director who really pushes the boundaries with where Andy takes his new friend, and it’s especially great for its synth-heavy soundtrack that reminds me of some of John Carpenter’s best scores, as we watch David’s inevitable descent into madness. You’ll frequently wonder where it’s going, but for me, it just got too dark, so I only really could enjoy it up to a point.

A little cheerier is UNPREGNANT (HBO Max), the new film from Rachel Lee Goldberg, who directed the recent Valley Girl remake, although this time she’s adapting a book written by Jenni Hendricks. It stars Haley Lu Richardson (from Split and Support the Girls) as 17-year-old Veronica who discovers that her dopey boyfriend Kevin has gotten her pregnant. Since women under 18 can’t get an abortion in Missouri without a parents’ consent, she goes on a road trip with her estranged childhood friend Bailey (Barbie Ferreira) to New Mexico to get the job done.

It’s more than  little weird seeing this movie come out in the same year as a much more serious version of the same movie in Elyza Hittman’s Never Rarely Sometime Always. That aside, Goldberg and her cast do their best to make this something more in the vein of last year’s Book Smart, although that’s also a fairly high watermark for any movie.

Because this is a road trip comedy, it tends to follow a fairly similar path as other movies where they meet a lot of strange characters along the way, as they try to get a ride after being busted cause Bailey stole her mother’s boyfriend’s car for the trip. For instance, they meet a friendly couple who tend to be pro-lifers who want to change Veronica’s mind, and the best side character is Giancarlo Esposito as a conspiracy theorist named Bob.

I guess my biggest problem with the movie is that it just isn’t that funny and feels fairly standard, but at least it has a decent ending to make up for the predictability of the rest of the movie.

Now streaming on Netflix is Maimouna Doucouré’s French coming-of-age film Mignonnes aka CUTIES, a film that premiered at Sundance and then stirred up quite a bit of controversy last month due to its marketing campaign, but is actually not the pervy male gaze movie which it may have been sold as. It’s about an 11-year-old Sengalese girl named Amy Diop (Fathia Youssouf) who wants to join the school’s “cool girl” dance group, known as the “Cuties,” even though it goes against her family’s Muslim beliefs.  Amy learns to dance so she can be part of the dance team and take part in a dance competition, but you know that this decision will led to trouble.s

Cuties got a lot of backlash from for the trailer and Netflix’s decision to release Doucouré’s movie, which is about a young girl discovering her sexuality, although it isn’t really something lurid or gross but actually a very strong coming-of-age film. I haven’t seen the trailer, but I can only imagine what scene it focused on that got people so riled up, since there are dance scenes that felt a little creepy to me. Other than that aspect of the film, Cuties is as innocent as a Judy Blume book. I mean, how else do you expect kids to learn about real life than movies like this? (Unfortunately, the movie is TV-MA so young teens won’t be able to watch it.)

The big problem with the Cuties is that they’re actually kind of bratty and bullies, almost like a younger “Mean Girls” girl gang, so it’s very hard to like any of them. They’re also trying to act way older than they really are, and you can only imagine what dark places that might led, as you worry about Amy getting dragged down with them, just because she wants to have friends and feel popular.

Despite my issues with Cuties, Maimouna Doucouré is a fantastic filmmaker, and this is a pretty amazing debut, especially notable for how she’s able to work with the young cast but also make a movie that looks amazing. That said, Cuties is a decent coming-of-age film, although I feel like I’ve seen better versions of this movie in films like Mustang and The Fits.

Also from France comes Justine Triet’s SYBIL (Music Box Films), starring Virgine Efira (who appeared in Triet’s earlier film, In Bed with Victoria) as the title character, a jaded psychotherapist who decides to return to her passion of writing, getting her inspiration from an actress patient named Margot (Adèle Exarchopoulos), who she becomes obsessed with. I don’t have a lot to say about this movie other than it wasn’t really for me. As far as French films go, a movie really has to stand out from the usual talkie drama filled with exposition, and though I thought the performances by the two women were great, I didn’t really care for the script or the pacing on this one. After playing at last year’s Cannes, Toronto and the New York Film Festival, Sybil will be available via Virtual Cinema through Film at Lincoln Center and the Laemmle in L.A. as well as other cities. You can watch the trailer and find out how to watch it through your local arthouse at the official site.

Now seems like as good a time as any to get into some docs…

 Liz Garbus and Lisa Cortés’ doc ALL-IN: THE FIGHT FOR DEMOCRACY (Amazon) follows Stacey Abrams through her run for Atlanta Governor in 2018, but it also deals with the laws that had been put in place to try to keep black voters from taking part in their right as Americans to be able to vote. I’m not sure what’s going on with me right now, but I generally just don’t have much interest in political docs right now, maybe because there’s so much politics on TV and in the news. I also have very little interest in Abrams or even having the racist history of the American South drilled into my head by another movie. I was born in 1965, my family didn’t even live in this country until 1960, and I’ve spent my life trying to treat everyone equally, so watching a movie like this and being preached to about how awful African-Americans have been treated in parts of the South for hundreds of years, I’m just not really sure what I’m supposed to do about it here in New York. I guess my biggest problem with All-In, which is a perfectly fine and well-made doc – as would be expected from Garbus – is that it lacks focus, and it seems to be all over the place in terms of what it’s trying to say… and I’m not even sure what it is trying to say, nor did I have the patience to find out. I thought Slay the Dragon handled the issues with gerrymandering far better, and I think I would have preferred a movie that ONLY focused on Abrams and her life and political career than trying to make a bigger statement. All-In will open at a few drive-ins (tonight!) and then will be on Amazon Prime on September 18.

I was similarly mixed on Jeff Orlwosky’s doc, THE SOCIAL DILEMMA, which debuted on Netflix this week. This one looks at the addiction people have for social media apps like Facebook and Twitter, and how the information of what people watch and click on is collected into a database that’s sold to the highest bidder. Basically, it’s your worst fears about social media come to life, but my issue with this one is that the filmmaker decided to hire actors to dramatize parts of the movie, showing one family dealing with social media and phone addiction, which seemed like an odd but probably necessary decision other than the fact that the topic is so nerdy and so over my head that maybe it was necessary to illustrate what’s being explained by programmers. Again, not a terrible doc, just not something I had very little interest in even if it is an important subject (and I’m probably spending too much on social media and essentially more of the problem than the solution).

I saw S. Leo Chiang and Yang Sun’s doc OUR TIME MACHINE at Tribeca last year, and I quite liked it. It follows influential Chinese artist Ma Liang (Maleonn) who collaborates with his Peking Opera director father Ma Ke, who is suffering from Alzheimer’s, on an elaborate and ambitious project called “Papa’s Time Machine” using life-sized mechanical puppets. I don’t have a ton to say about the movie but it’s a nice look into the Chinese culture and traditions and how the country and art itself has changed between two generations.

One doc I missed last week but will be available digitally this week is Michael Paszt’s Nail in the Coffin: The Fall and Rise of Vampiro about semi-retired professional wrestler Ian Hodgkinson aka Vampiro, who is a Lucha Libre legend.

There’s a lot of other stuff on Netflix this week, including THE BABYSITTER: KILLER QUEEN, the sequel to the Samara Weaving-starring horror-thriller, again co-written and directed by McG (Charlies Angels: Full Throttle). This one stars Bella Thorne, Leslie Bibb and Ken Marino, as it follows Judah Lewis’ Cole after surviving the satanic blood cult from the first movie.

I don’t know nearly as much about the British comedy series The Duchess, other than it stars comedian Katherine Ryan as a single mother juggling a bunch of things. Julie and the Phantoms is Netflix’s latest attempt to be the Disney channel with a movie about a young girl named Julie (Madison Reyes) who decides to start a band with a group of ghosts (hence the title). It’s even from Kenny Laguna, who is best known for the Disney Channel’s biggest hits High School Musical and The Descendants.

Other stuff to look out for this week include Kevin Del Principe’s thriller Up on the Glass (Gravitas Ventures), which is now available On Demand, digital and Blu-Ray; the Russian dogs doc Space Dogs (Icarus Films) – available via Alamo on Demand; Phil Wall’s doc The Standard  (Gravitas Ventures), and Andrei Bowden-Schwartz, Gina O’Brien’s tennis comedy All-In (on Amazon Prime and VOD/Digital) and Sam B. Jones’ Red White and Wasted (Dark Star Pictures).

Next week, more movies not in theaters!

By the way, if you read this week’s column and have bothered to read this far down, feel free to drop me some thoughts at Edward dot Douglas at Gmail dot Com or drop me a note or tweet on Twitter. I love hearing from readers … honest!

[torestoreamends]

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Show Recap – Sunday May 21st

Note: This recap was written over several days, so please forgive the bizarre and inconsistent references to time.

What a bizarre, indescribable day. I think this is going to be more a recap of emotions (as I try to figure them out), but of course the cast gave us some beautiful and incredible moments too. I'll do my best to talk about everything I can, but as I say, it was a little indescribable, and I'm still not sure how I feel.

*

The start to the day was simply beautiful. It was warm and sunny and full of excitement. As I travelled into London I felt so connected with the rest of the fandom. I could feel us all converging, and it was electric. Everything felt perfect. Everything felt right. Everything was as I expected it to be.

But so much has happened since then then that all that feels like a lifetime ago. Walking in St James's Park was surely another day entirely? Meeting half the fandom in Pret to flail and eat sweets is just a distant memory. Did queueing to go in ever really happen? Because all that was before we read the cast board.

The thing that brings a cast change its magic usually is the full principle cast all saying goodbye to each other, both as their characters and as themselves. All the scenes take on multiple layers and new emotions, because they mean so much both to the actor and the character. These people, who have been cast together, rehearsed together, performed together, and established such strong bonds, as surrogate family and close friends, are all together for the last time, and it brings something so special and unique to the show. And that was what I expected to happen here. It was what I'd been looking forward to for months and months, but it wasn't what happened.

I took my photo of the cast board without reading it, and I posted it, also without reading it. We were all joking around, having fun, taking photos of each other taking photos of the board. And then someone actually looked at it, and there it was.

James Le Lacheur -- Scorpius Malfoy

It was shock. Shock and denial. Grief. A wash of overwhelming emotion. Because where was Anthony's name? Was the board wrong? What was happening?

I felt empty. I didn't know what to do with myself. Other people were inconsolably crying. I had to go and find hugs from five different people because this wasn't what I expected. It wasn't what I wanted. It felt like the heart of cast change had been ripped out.

I think at this moment that I should clarify that I had no problem with James. James's Scorpius is my favourite, genuinely. James herself is such an incredible, warm, lovely person, and her Scorpius brims over with the most incredible emotion, accompanied by technical brilliance and careful thought. My problem was that Anthony should have been there to say goodbye. I was worried it would spoil the day for Sam, for Alex, for really everyone. I was worried the atmosphere would be warped. And most of all I was so scared that something awful had happened to Anthony. The lack of information was horrendous, and there were all sorts of rumours flying around the theatre that only made it all worse.

When Act One started, I wasn't ready. I was still reeling. No one in the theatre saw Anthony's tweet until the interval, so I spent the whole of the first act with horrible thoughts about him being really sick, and worrying about how the other actors must feel. Every time Alex was on stage, every time Sam was on stage, every time James was on stage, all I could think about was the absence of Anthony. I couldn't focus on the show or hold onto any of the details. There were only a small handful scenes I really managed to enjoy, and only one I felt a real emotional connection to.

The opening was the moving part. The beginning of the end. Chris Jarman looked so emotional as he walked on, taking his time, and plucking the hat from the air to begin proceedings. Seeing Jeremy run round the suitcases for the final time was a truly special moment, and the energy of the cast was phenomenal.

The parts I managed to really enjoy were everything Cherrelle did (when she said 'and he's my cousin!' she said the 'and' so loudly and so high-pitched that she cracked herself up). She was really bringing it, and making the most of her final show. I also enjoyed the blanket scene, which was brimming with genuine emotion, especially the final few lines. There was something poignant about seeing Jamie and Sam, who've established such a connection, yelling that they didn't want to be each other's father and son anymore, when at the end of the day they would never again play Harry and Albus. And I also absolutely adored Jamie as Scorpius. He was absolutely tremendous, and the part where he was alone trying to solve the riddle was the only moment in the first act where I completely forgot Anthony's absence and was truly immersed in the story.

There were other great things that happened, but I barely remember any of them. I was desperate to focus, but I couldn't, and I hated that. At that point I was certain the day and this performance were doomed for me, and that I wouldn't manage to enjoy them at all. Everything I had been looking forward to for so long felt like it was falling apart.

But then the interval came, and we had some time to talk and digest, and I reminded myself that I actually prefer James's Act Two to Anthony's. I thought about all the wonderful things I had to enjoy. And the fact that Anthony had tweeted and was clearly alive and okay, and the fact that I'd already seen James on stage and could come to terms with everything, made it so much easier.

Act Two was probably the best one I've ever seen, and I had so much fun watching it. All the problems of Act One melted away into the distance, and I became fully immersed. It was a real delight to watch.

Harrison Noble as young Harry kicked Act Two off with an incredible bang. The fear from that boy while he was being terrorised by the phantom Voldemort was audible. I think he's the best of the young Harrys, he's certainly my favourite, and I think he's truly talented. You could hear the terror of his breathing, and you could see him really thinking through every one of the actions he made. It was simply brilliant.

Then, the moment the show really clarified for me, was the part where everyone is out searching the Forbidden Forest. That's one of the most beautiful parts of the show, and it was one of my favourites when I first saw it back last June, and I somehow managed to watch it as if for the first time. It looked new, and fresh, and beautiful, and I remembered why I love this play and this cast.

And then we reached the moment where Albus and Scorpius see Hogwarts through the trees at the edge of the Forest. I knew it would be an emotional scene. It's all about Hogwarts, and wanting to be there, and it's emotionally resonant with the fandom, and I could see how it would also be resonant with the actors who were leaving Hogwarts for the last time today. It definitely lived up to my expectations.

I think it's worth saying that Sam in this performance was completely incredible. The genuine, raw emotion, the vulnerability, the simplicity and honesty of so many of the lines. He really stole the show, and I think he got the chance to shine during his last performance in Anthony's absence. Sam is the sort of generous actor who gives everyone on stage with him their space and time, and that's something that Anthony doesn't need giving, hence why Sam can be overlooked (and has been by the media), but today perfectly encapsulated how incredible he is and how incredible he can be.

In this scene, the way he was looking at Scorpius, and listening to him was simply beautiful. He was so intent on him. You could see all the emotion passing across his face, as he found out all this new information about his friend. He was understanding Scorpius in a new and lovely way. This whole scene was wonderful.

After that we led straight into the first task scene, which was about as wild as I expected it to be. The ensemble were going for it to the extent that I found it impossible to look at Sam or James at all. I can't remember nearly all the things that happened, but there were people hiding behind one another from the dragons, Mackley shouted something to Fleur that I couldn't hear but was presumably terrible (it got a really big laugh from the stalls), Stuart put the Slytherin banner down when Harry was introduced because he didn't want them to be associated with supporting him. It was action packed, overwhelming, and really hilarious. The crowd scenes have always been a massive highlight with this cast, just because they have so much enthusiasm, energy, and excitement, and I'm going to miss the wild mess of activity they've become.

And then we were back in the second timeline, which was where the emotion really kicked in.

Sam's pained fainting was the best I've ever seen it, and he lay sprawled on the stage for so long after Albus's arm was broken, like he couldn't manage to haul himself up. He only got up in the end because he had to pretend to be okay in front of the adults.

There were a hilarious amount of new people in for this show, and I'm sure most of them had no idea what a special performance they were watching, but the bit about Ron and Padma got lots of little laughs from those people.

After that, James showed up and began turning our worlds upside down. When Scorpius reeled back from Albus, he sat on the stairs shaking his head and staring straight in front of him, like he couldn't believe what had happened. He didn't seem sad to start with, just in denial, which was even more heartbreaking.

The DADA scene was so painful. I don't think I've ever seen Noma do such an incredible performance throughout the play, and this was a real standout scene. She was radiating bitter, awful anger and sadness, and taking it all out on Albus who was just confused and miserable. When she threw him off his chair he just lay there again in a crumpled heap, and he had to drag himself up. And her final words about the Patronuses were gut wrenching. There were so many pauses and gaps, as Hermione struggled to explain all these emotions that she clearly couldn't imagine herself ever feeling anymore. But even in her pain, she was still strong and intimidating, pointing her wand directly at Albus with a shaking hand. She still has the Minister For Magic's authority, despite her broken heart.

I always forget that the staircase ballet comes straight after the DADA scene, and I was not prepared. I will never be prepared for what James does with this run of scenes. Scorpius was just completely shattered. There's a moment where he runs up one of the staircases and you can hear him sobbing, face dripping with tears. There are moments where he collapses onto the stairs in despair. And the moment when the two boys come face to face is heart-rending from both sides as they try to work out what to say, and Scorpius wants to run away but can't bring himself to leave Albus, and Albus tries to find the words to apologise but knows that it might jeopardise everything with his dad.

It was the final moment when they stand at the top of their separate staircases and stare at each other as they're pulled apart that was the worst. Albus's shoulders were slumped, and Scorpius just looked broken. He took a step forward, like he wanted to try and reach Albus, then he thought better of it and just stopped, presumably expecting to give Albus up for good.

One of my favourite things about the duel scene is the building, ominous background sound that begins when Harry says 'Are you sure, are you really sure he's yours?' You can hear the tension rising, and the imminence of the fight, and it's such a cool effect. It all finally bursts with the start of the duel, when a flashbulb goes off as the two Expelliarmuses collide and the fight music begins.

This was a pretty great duel. At the beginning, Jamie and Alex were flung so far apart by the people lifting them at the back that they both nearly flew off into the wings. I've never seen such an enthusiastic start to the duel before. And they were both giving it everything, flying around, having so much fun. That scene got a very well deserved round of applause. This is one of the scenes where I'll probably most miss Jamie and Alex, because they play it out so perfectly, and the characters of Harry and Draco most come shining through.

I've always loved the quiet heartbreak of the scene between Delphi and Scorpius, and I love how she twists and manipulates him. It feels like such a tender moment between the two, but there's so much underlying it. This was a particularly intimate version of the scene. Esther brought so much warmth and kindness to it, and on the surface it felt like she was being a mother or an older sister to Scorpius, listening to his problems and helping him figure things out, giving him advice. And Scorpius was just assuming that Albus's friend was there to help him. Just the mention of her being ill when she was younger wiped away all his critical thinking and mistrust, and it makes him so vulnerable. He reveals himself in that scene, in a way he doesn't much in the rest of the play, because it's all purely about him and his own problems and how upset he is, not about using those to get someone else on side with him.

I think it's very important to mention at this point that Alex Price does a spectacular job of taking not-funny lines and making them hilarious. At the end of the chat between Harry, Ginny, and Draco in the kitchen, the line "because he needs you, and Scorpius," always gets a laugh. It's like he focuses on Harry, and then throws in Scorpius at the last moment, almost trying to get him under the radar without starting another fight, but it also feels like a massive dig at Harry. It feels like one of Draco's most petty moments, because it's all about Harry and Albus, and explaining loneliness to him, and then at the last moment he takes the chance to remind Harry that he's been a massive asshole. I love that delivery.

This library scene was the best one I have ever seen. James smashed it, and Sam was so emotional. The whole thing was just stunning.

There were moment in Scorpius's big emotional speech where James had to stop to compose herself because she couldn't get the words out past her tears. It was so heart-wrenching and painful. The moment Scorpius starts talking about being excited that his mum might be alive was the moment where James really fell apart, and there was a big gap before 'but no, turns out she is', as she tried to gather herself together for the end of the speech. And then when Albus was offering the Cloak to Scorpius it sounded like Sam was in bits too, all choked up, and more quiet and desperate than usual.

Albus's apology was one of the moments in this show where there was genuine, raw emotion from Sam, where Albus and Sam sort of intersected, and Sam found a way to channel himself into Albus. It was heartfelt and broken and beautiful. I think when Sam comes through, Albus becomes more vulnerable, smaller somehow, and quieter, and it's a lovely quality I wish we'd had chance to see more of.

The only moment in the library scene where I missed Anthony was the exchange: "Friends?" "Always." simply because Anthony and Sam have their own friendship, and I would have loved to see what probably would have been an emotional moment between the two. But other than that there was nothing out of place, and I could have watched that scene a thousand times. It was an incredible thing that was a privilege to watch.

I'm not entirely sure what to say about Annabel's performance as Myrtle, other than that it was spectacular and well deserving of the round of applause it got. She was up to all sorts of antics, including flicking the sleeve of Albus's robe with her toe, and just generally being hyperactive and overexcited. I'm not sure if anyone will manage to live up to her amazing Myrtle, but I hope they try, and if they succeed then I will be ecstatic!

Mackley was on as the Scorpius double on the wires, and he waved at Fleur as she swam past, and then when Cedric was turned into a balloon, he waved at him too.

I don't know why, but the end of this act was just really good fun. James's panicked screaming for Albus in the lake was amazing. Helena was really giving everything for her last Petunia and Umbridge; at one point she did an excitable sort of jump and kick, that was the sort of sinister, girlish thing Umbridge would do when faced with trauma and distress. And the attack of the Dementors was just cool, maybe because I was sitting in Dress Circle Row A and had the perfect view up to see the auditorium Dementor terrorising the grand circle and balcony.

The break between shows was really great. A bunch of us went and had dinner together, and chatted and ate sweets, and started to get excited about the new cast. I met up with the wonderful @abradystrix who was sweet and kind and gave me the most hilarious gift. Then there was the fandom group photo which I'm sure is floating around somewhere online (probably on twitter).

On the way back into the theatre we checked the cast board again, just to make sure Anthony hadn't miraculously recovered, but no. I heard later that they'd been talking about him coming in for Part Two, but his doctor had said it probably wasn't a good idea. So we were treated to James's incredible, emotional Voldemort timeline instead.

This was a particularly special version of the Voldemort timeline. The only sad thing was that we missed out on Anthony and Alex saying farewell to each other in spectacular style, but I didn't mind James's version of the scene in Draco's office at all. I'll come back to that in a second.

First, massive shoutout to Jack North for giving absolutely everything in this performance. His movement is always so exceptional, but this time it was clean and crisp, and he was working so hard. He just stole all the dance moments, especially at the beginning of the second timeline. I'm going to miss him a lot. (Also, he did a fancy double pirouette thing going into one of the EGMs, which I enjoyed immensely, and looked like him just having fun on his last show.)

Back to the James L. I loved the strength of her Scorpius in the office scene. During Scorpius's initial tirade at Draco, he was so authoritative. Whatever Draco says about his son not being a leader is rubbish. He could make whole armies follow him with a speech like that.

Draco came briefly out from behind his desk to face him, intent and focused. It didn't feel like the previous version of this scene, which I saw on the 7th May, where Draco was actively impressed by his son and his boldness, but he was certainly listening and giving Scorpius the time of day.

The real standout moments of this Voldy timeline came when James L and Paul B were onstage together. I loved Scorpius's initial reaction to Snape, which was to real back across the whole stage with his hand clapped to his mouth in excitement and amazement. He just stood there, seeming like he didn't know where to begin and couldn't believe this extraordinary moment, for several moments before finally gasping out that it was an honour to meet him.

I know that Paul's been struggling with a sore throat this week, and you could tell his Snape and Voldemort voices were different in this show, but I actually preferred this version of his Snape voice. It was softer and more carefully pronounced. There was less anger and rasp to it. It never got too loud.

This is another of those scenes where James brings Scorpius's strength to life. He seems authoritative and confident, and full of determination. He has to get his best friend back after all, and Snape can help him do it, because he knows that of everyone in this godforsaken place, Snape at least will be firmly on his side.

I absolutely adore how Snape turns on Scorpius when he says "For Lily, for the world, help me", and I love how his hand shakes as he points his wand directly at Scorpius for the longest time, still trying to decide whether or not to curse him and be done with it, before he finally closes the door. That moment of struggle is amazing.

In the campaign room scene, there were so many highlights, but my favourite was the way Hermione gestured at Ron to pull down the map. I've never seen her do it quite like that before. It was commanding in the funniest way, and it felt like Ron was obeying her because he was still slightly terrified about the fact that they were married in the other world. He didn't seem to know what to do with her, so he just obeyed without question. Those two had a really sweet relationship in these scenes during this performance.

I don't know what it was about this performance in particular, but everyone who had to be in pain was really nailing it. Paul's Thornley's broken leg screaming was phenomenal, and he, like Sam earlier, just lay on the floor for a while, and I was almost worried he wouldn't get up.

When he did, the moment kissing Hermione before they're caught by the Dementors was simply lovely, and I was very happy to see that Noma managed to get herself hooked onto her Dementor in decent time for her final show. She was still winched up after Paul, but I wasn't stressed out by the length of time it took her, which has happened in the past. I also had fun watching the little Dementors that whizz around the auditorium during this section. They'd almost be cute if they weren't so creepy.

After Ron and Hermione were kissed and carried away, Scorpius was absolutely freaking out. He was completely terrified and overwrought, shaking, and breathing so hard, and then when the Dementor came for him he just couldn't break away because was already so scared. While he was connected with it, he was leant so far back, facing up at it, full of pure terror, and even Snape's words didn't seem to be breaking through to him very well. He was buried in the hell that was going on inside his head, and it was awful to watch. When he was talking about his mother he was sobbing, voice all squeaky, barely able to get the words out from how overwhelmed he was. When Snape finally broke through to him he tore himself away and stumbled down the stage towards the lake. He seemed exhausted from the struggle.

The part where Snape blasts Umbridge back got a cheer from the audience, which I don't think I've seen before. I loved that. She has to be fandom's least favourite character, just because she's so evil.

When Snape conjures his Patronus, both he and Scorpius were crying, and it was just a beautiful, intensely emotional moment between them. Scorpius could barely get out the words "thank you for being my light in the darkness", and Snape was crying as he said "tell Albus -- tell Albus Severus -- I'm proud he carries my name". And then once Scorpius had gone into the lake, as Snape was facing the Dementors he was saying Lily's name over and over again, because in facing death he was going to find her again, and he was holding onto that hope. It was heart-breaking.

Scorpius's delight when Albus came out of the lake was beautiful. Everything in that moment got applause, which is always fun to see. And I will always love the way Alex's Draco just looks at Scorpius and judges him for a moment before saying hello and handing him the robes to put on. I also loved how Draco looked at Scorpius when he said he'd lost the Time-Turner, completely exasperated.

Random detail. I suspect the shirt Scorpius wears under the Voldy timeline robes is velcroed for quick change purposes, because it came undone when James pulled the tie off.

The gossip scene, with all the kids running through the halls of Hogwarts, was really fun. At one point Jack North leaned so far over the banisters of one of the staircases that I was scared he'd fall right over. Also, they were all really relishing throwing themselves off the stairs into the wings.

Things from the McGonagall scene: Harry jerked to attention when McGonagall said she should expel the boys, apparently ready to fight on Albus's behalf. Scorpius was holding his left arm when he was talking about the world with Voldemort being a horrific world, which is basically my favourite James mannerism. And then at the end of the scene, the Hermione and Rose hug was sheer beauty. It was as much a Noma and Cherrelle hug as it was Hermione and Rose, and Hermione stroked Rose's hair and cupped her face in both hands and looked at her, before gather her in and holding her so tightly. They were both crying, which probably comes as a surprise to none of you. Crying is going to become a theme of this recap, moving forward.

I've always preferred Lowri's Petunia to Helena's, but in this performance Helena was pretty great. Full of emotion and intensity. I was really happy with what we saw from her. Albus's cries for his dad and Harry's scream of agony were also stand out moments from the dream in Scene Twelve, both even more intense and painful than usual.

The slumber party scene was one of the scenes where Sam really shone on Sunday. It was a really sweet scene generally, all Scorpius's confessions about the Voldemort timeline were heartfelt and beautiful, and Albus was listening intently. But the best moment was when Albus was talking about Cedric, and how the whole situation was his fault. He was curled up so small, and his voice was so soft and vulnerable. It was a real, genuine moment, and it felt like he was speaking right from his heart. It's not often that you see Sam deliver his lines that way, so it was wonderful to see. A really stunning little moment. And with James responding in kind, it was the perfect intimate conversation between two best friends.

The Owlery scene was really lovely too. There was a really nice pace to the conversation between Scorpius and Albus. I adored how James delivered: "It's a much underestimated part of modern witchcraft". It was authoritative and nerdy, and it was just an example of Scorpius in his element, having so much fun with his best friend.

There was at least one classic creepy Delphi moment in this scene. When Albus and Delphi were talking about the tattoo, Delphi reached out and cupped Albus's chin, and Albus's voice went all high-pitched and hoarse. It was a perfect example of her playing with the boys and using them. It was amusing, Sam played that moment brilliantly, but also horrific knowing that Delphi was being so awful and relishing having Albus wound round her little finger.

The moment of Delphi's attack was really good. I can't put my finger on precisely why it was so excellent in this performance, but there was something about it. Between Scorpius fumbling for his wand, and Delphi drawing hers like she had all the time in the world to strike him down, and Albus's confusion, it was perfect. And Delphi's jubilation at having taken down the boys finally was jubilant. She was revelling in her power, and in the world she was about to create.

Ron did his kneeling down for the reproposal, which I was really happy to see again. It really is a beautiful touch, and it makes him seem so sweet and earnest. How could that not make Hermione melt?

I love Draco's irritation while Ron is talking about Neville. He was there tapping his feet and leaning against the chair, and just generally looking like he was about to burst. And when Ron calls Scorpius by the wrong name he turns to Harry to appeal to him to sort out his best friend. The thing that makes it even better is that Harry is having almost the same reaction to Ron's speech. When Ginny says they all want to strangle him, she means it.

In case anyone's interested, I've finally figured out the mechanism behind Scorpius's gymnastics while he's being tortured. In this show there was a moment of quiet as James was getting into position for the torture, and I heard a sort of snap like a magnet connecting. And when she moved away a little later I noticed a metal plate on the floor of the stage. So I think that leaning back is done with magnets somehow, that hold Scorpius's feet in place.

The worst moment in the torture scene was actually Jeremy's last line. I was really sad about that one. And after Craig's death, there was the longest silence as the boys lay despairing on the ground, just staring and taking it in, full of so much horror and fear.

By the way, I'm not sure if this has been mentioned, but I heard that Paul Thornley did the voice of Bagman, and I think that's accurate because when I listened to it carefully during this show, it did sound a lot like him at times. It'll be interesting to see if they change that and let Thomas record it for the new cast, or if a tiny piece of Paul will remain with the show forever. I'll be listening closely on the 24th.

There was something so awful and heartbreaking about the moment between Cedric and Albus in this show. The weight of it was so poignant, and it felt like a real goodbye between Sam and Milligan. It was their last line to each other after all.

In fact, my favourite moment of the maze sequence was when Delphi took them back in time. Her pure joy at shattering the Time-Turner was amazing. I've never seen her so delighted by it. She just watched the pieces fall with sheer delight for a moment before laughing and addressing the boys. And the boys' despair when she left them behind was horrible to behold. They were so vulnerable and sad and scared, but still strong and protecting one another.

It was a sad moment for sure to hear Jamie speak Parseltongue for the last time. I'm not sure if that moment got anyone else, but I was a little bit heartbroken. He delivers it with a really great panache, and I'm going to miss it.

And then suddenly it was Act Four, and I don't think anyone in the theatre was ready for it. This was where the tears really began, for the cast as well as for me.

The big surprise of the night in terms of emotion was Hermione's line at the end of the second EGM (it's given to Harry in the script, but Hermione is the one who says it). "Then -- just like that -- most of the people in this room will be gone. We'll no longer exist, and Voldemort will rule again." I don't think anyone was expecting that to be the line that broke everyone, but Noma could barely get through it, and as I realised what she was saying I started sobbing. It was the most horrendous, sad line for the occasion. Starkly painful.

The second time I cried was at the pumpkin transition into Godric's Hollow. This has always been my favourite moment of the show, right from the very first time I saw the play, and Chris Jarman does it so beautifully. The way he moves his hands, and the time he spends over every detail. He commands that moment and makes it feel perfectly paced and poised. I don't think anyone will ever perform that bit of movement as well as he does. It was heartbreaking to see him do it for the final time.

Another last show thing from this first Godric's Hollow section was Annabel and Milligan saying goodbye to each other and to James and Lily. When they come out of the door together, normally they give each other a quick peck on the lips, but this time they kissed once, then kissed again really hard before finally walking off. It was a really sweet little moment.

The scene in Harry's office is always a sob fest, but this time it was even worse, full of so many emotionally potent lines. Jamie was sobbing so hard through the whole thing. And I knew the line that would be the worst. The second Jamie said: "Don't go!" I began tearing up in anticipation of the response. "Those that we love never truly leave us."

When Dumbledore talked about paint and memory and love, my mind wandered to all the beautiful memories from the year, of all the performances I've seen. I thought of all the photos and videos, both of the actors and with the actors, and with my friends. This play is full of beautiful, touching lines, and they became so poignant and painful in this particular context.

The thing I remember most about the second half of the scene, when Draco arrives, is how much Jamie was wiping his eyes. All the way through Alex's speech, he kept taking his glasses off and dabbing his eyes with his handkerchief. Alex got pretty emotional too. I've seen him worse, but actually when Alex is at his most emotional his voice doesn't break at all, and that was pretty much what happened here. He also did his little gestures skywards when he mentioned Astoria. I'm going to miss his constant mission to make us laugh and then break our hearts in the next second.

The second half of the boys' waiting around in Godric's Hollow contained one of my favourite features of James's performance. I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but starting around Easter, she began grabbing Sam by the face during Scorpius's "HELP!" routine. This time I wasn't sure if she would do it, because she was facing away across the stage, but right at the last second she turned and took Sam's face in both hands and yelled right at him. James's performances have been a goldmine of Scorbus feels, and it's going to be so sad to lose her. Although, she still has four weeks as first cover Scorpius to go, and as we saw at this show, anything can happen.

Most of the next few scenes were at their usual, top quality standard. The most interesting thing happened in Scene Ten. After the decision had been made to transfigure Harry into Voldemort, Jamie took his time getting into position for the Transfiguration. He turned round and looked every single one of the other adults in the eye, finishing with Poppy, and had a significant, beautiful moment with each of them before finally kneeling down. It was his last chance to directly interact with all of them, and he really did justice to the moment.

Paul Bentall and Esther were really incredible in the scene between Voldemort and Delphi. I mentioned earlier about Paul struggling with his voice, and it continued here, giving us a much softer, slightly posher and more restrained sounding Voldemort than usual. There was less of the bite and animosity. He sounded more distant from Delphi, which was actually quite a nice quality, that level of dismissiveness.

Esther was giving everything of course, begging her father for attention. But she seemed perhaps a little more suspicious of him than usual. I felt as though Delphi saw through what was going on a lot earlier than usual, and the last bit of the scene was just her checking to make sure before she acted.

I don't know about anyone else, but the last time Jamie lay under the bench in the church and it didn't fall on him, I was so relieved. My greatest source of stress in the play is that bench, and I'm glad Jamie survived eleven months of it.

The level of pain that Jamie poured into these last few scenes was incredible. When Voldemort was coming Harry's scream as he clutched his scar was the most awful I've ever heard. Full of so much agony. He seemed like he could barely climb to his feet for the death scene.

The transition into that moment was slow and almost reluctant. It was Alex, Poppy, Noma, and Paul's last moment on stage, and they didn't seem to want to do it, but they eventually got into position and completely broke our hearts. Everyone was crying. I don't think I've ever seen Sam really cry before, but even from the dress circle I could tell that he was. His face was all red, and he was clinging to Jamie with a new level of ferocity. Alex was cradling James in his arms. And Noma and Paul were clutching each other. Whoever made the observation that Ron is the only person not to look away when Lily is killed was completely right. He just stands there and stares at the house, and it's such a brave thing to do. He's being the strong one for everyone else. I thought for a moment at the end of this scene that Jamie wasn't going to scream in his grief, but maybe he was just crying too much to do it right away, because when he finally did it was awful to hear.

Hagrid's speech was another bit that made everyone cry, including Chris. He mentioned at stagedoor that he struggled to get through it. Which is understandable when it contains the line: "Hard though it is to leave yeh. I want yeh to know -- yeh won't be forgotten -- not by me -- not by any folk." That was the one that really got me, because it's true. We'll never forget this cast and the world they've conjured up for us. They've been spectacular, and these memories will stay with us all forever.

Act Four Scene Fourteen contained, as you may have heard, Rose kissing Scorpius on the cheek. She beckoned to him and reeled him in, then kissed him and skipped away without another word, while some of the audience exploded with delight. I really loved how Albus was grinning the whole time, half entertained by his best friend, half wanting to mock him for how ridiculous he was being. But of course Albus is always supportive, and always loves everything Scorpius does, because he simply can't help himself.

The final hug between the two boys was tight and long and lovely. Just what you'd want for the final Scorbus hug with this cast.

And then we reached the final scene, and it was heartfelt and emotional and gorgeous. Jamie took hold of Sam's hand and placed it on his chest during the 'I know that heart' line, and he adjusted Sam's hood for him. There was so much tender love between them, as they just looked at each other and stayed so close together, like they couldn't bring themselves to part. It was a perfect final moment, and a beautiful send off to their Harry and Albus. They've both been incredible, and that moment with the two of them with their arms around each other, will stay with me forever, the final image of two characters and two actors who've changed my life.

And then it was all over!

After a surprisingly short but raucous curtain call we all sprinted to stage door for a bit of a wild one, during which so many questions were answered.

The first people out were Jamie and Noma. Because the line was so long they decided to start at the other end to where we were, so people didn't have to wait too long. This ended up causing a massive traffic jam as the actors tried to cross over each other in the middle of the line, but that in itself was entertaining. When they came out they sprinted along the line, giggling and grinning like children, and everyone screamed at them. It was like a movie premiere or something.

I spoke to Chris about the pumpkin transition, and how much I love what he does with it, and he said it was because of Steven Hoggett's movement. But I insisted that he makes it really special, because he does. As I said earlier, no one plays that moment like he does.

James Le Lacheur gave us a couple of excellent bits of information. She's staying on to cover Scorpius for the next four weeks until the new cover is ready. So you never know, we may yet see her again. Also, I can't remember how it came up, but she said she was thinking about kissing Sam in the penultimate scene, however she decided it was more of a James choice than a Scorpius choice, so she restrained herself. It's great that she was thinking about it though. James has been a true gift to the play.

Esther was just the sweetest. She was giving everyone hugs. I told her how much I loved her Delphi, and how she'd become one of my favourite cast members, and that I was going to miss her. She was the only one I teared up in front of, and we both started crying a bit and she hugged me. I'm going to miss how lovely she is, and how incredible her Delphi has become.

Jack Thorne was amazing at stage door. Most of this has been extensively mentioned elsewhere, but he was part of the sugar ban conversation, where it came out that Ginny bans sugar in the Potter household to preserve Harry and Ginny's sex life. He also said that Delphi doesn't have a last name. She should go by Riddle, but given that that links back to her Muggle grandparents, she'd probably reject it. Jack also said that she'd like the idea of being just Delphi, in the way that Voldemort is just Lord Voldemort. It's a way of establishing her own identity and following in her father's footsteps.

The greatest thing to happen at stagedoor was Milligan's hair. I couldn't see round the corner, and I asked someone who was coming, and they were like 'I think it's Milligan, but it's difficult to tell because he has no hair'. Which I found mildly confusing because Milligan has hair. So I craned round the corner and oh my god he really did have basically no hair. It was shocking. Apparently he shaved it all off because he dyes it black for James and wanted to be free (which makes me wonder if maybe Sam is allergic to hair dye or something, because he's the only Potter boy who didn't dye his hair).

The other actors hadn't seen Milligan shave his hair, so as they saw it for the first time they were all gasping and shrieking and freaking out. There's a beautiful video of Noma and Jamie's reaction, and Sam's reaction has been preserved photographically forever. I think it was James Howard who ran a hand over his head and looked generally amazed. I didn't see all the reactions, but the ones I witnessed were stunning and hilarious, and I feel like Milligan was having a great time. He certainly made an impression.

And finally, stuff from the remaining cast!

Mackley (who kissed Sam on the cheek at one point in an amazing, mildly incestuous, Albus moment), confirmed that he will continue to be first cover for Albus. He also said that this year they might be able to tell us when they're on! Fingers crossed.

I told James Howard and Annabel how excited I was to see the show on Wednesday and Thursday, and they both looked mildly horrified. Jame said he hoped they'd be ready (he also said he was excited, and I know he referred to Samuel as his son to some people further down the line). Annabel told me to cut them some slack. She explained that the old cast had five weeks of tech rehearsals, while this cast has four days. I'm fully expecting adrenaline and carnage at the first show, and I will keep you posted on all of that. If she told me all that to warn me about the new cast and to temper my expectations, it didn't work. I'm more excited than ever, and having said a wonderful goodbye to the original cast, surrounded by all my friends, I'm so ready to look to the future, and find out what we're in for this year. It's been great, and it will continue to be great. As Scorpius would say: "Good. This is going to be good."

[real-life-pine-tree]

Arc-V Aftermath: The Spell of Fairy Tails (18/26)

When all is said and done, things have quickly recovered in the four dimensions. But when weird things start happening, the Yu-Salad Boys and the Bracelet Girls quickly realize they have some loose ends to fix. Co-written with @violetganache42​.

WARNING: Dub names will be featured in the story.

Today has finally arrived. The day every Duelist has been waiting for. One that will redefine the Duel Monsters card game for the years to come. The first day of the Team Duel Tournament was here.

Everyone was scrambling to get ready, especially the Yu-Salad and Energy Girls, who were doing their morning routines. Yuya and Sora ate Yoko's pancakes a tad faster than usual because they don't want to be late for the opening ceremony. Yuto, Lulu, and Shay each took turns taking showers and getting dressed before they can eat their breakfasts. Yugo, Rin, Crow, and Shinji all prepared their Duel Runners and decks while having already finished eating. Yuri was in his and Dennis' dorm bathroom, attempting to make his new appearance look neat; the Shaddoll user commented on how his roommate has combed his hair for…what, the umpteenth time now? Celina was wrapping up her morning workouts at the gym while Zuzu got changed into her usual attire she wore in and out of school.

A couple hours later, seven of the eight counterparts were inside LID with their teammates and were about to enter through the doors to the Center Duel Field. So many people from across the Original Dimension came to see an important event in dueling history. As the competitors and audience members walked in, they all grew shocked at what was surrounding the field. There was a surprising large amount of Fluffal monsters in the arena and plants hung all over the walls. There were even unknown hooded figures among the crowd. What was going on?

At that point, Yugo saw a flash of red from the corner of his eye. "You okay, Yugo?" Rin asked.

"I recognize that swirly red hair anywhere," Yugo said. "It's that Ancient Gear guy!"

Unfortunately for all the Duelists and Duel Monsters fans, some Cardfighters have also showed up just to see the twelve teams screw up the new tournament rules. Yugo hasn't seen the red-haired Cardfighter since the day Rin discovered her Skill, but he hasn't forgotten him.

"Who do you think you are showing up here?!" Yugo asked, running up to the Cardfighter. "This is a Duelists-only event!"

"Oh, you're one to talk!" the Cardfighter said. "You stole our tournament rules! You're just gonna end up screwing things up with your weird technology!"

"You're the weird one!" Yugo retorted as Rin had to rush over to restrain him. "Your Ancient Gear monsters aren't real, you weirdo!"

"They're called Gear Chronicle, you toy-loving freak!" the Cardfighter said, taking out his deck.

"Oh, you want a showdown?!" Yugo asked, taking out his deck as well.

"Bring it!" the Cardfighter answered. "Can't wait to punch that smug expression off your fa-"

"There you are, Chrono!"

Yugo, Rin, and the Cardfighter, now revealed to be Chrono, turned their heads to see a girl walking towards them. She had apple green hair and hazel eyes like Rin, but the only notable difference was the clothes they wore. The three looked back at each other, baffled by what they're seeing. The two girls have similar appearances and features, and from what they heard from Chrono's friend, they even have mirroring personalities. Heck, the two boys were both quick-tempered. They honestly don't know what to say about the recently discovered similarities.

"Not now, Tokoha," Chrono said. "This banana-haired Duelist keeps calling my cards ancient gear-"

"Will you just focus for once, you moron?!" Tokoha demanded. "And I'm serious this time! If you could control that temper of yours, we wouldn't have gone through that whole problem with Team Trick-Trick! And stop picking fights with random Duelists! You've gotta learn to stop losing your cool!" She tightly grabbed Chrono's arm. "Do you even know how worried I got when you vanished?!"

"Geez, alright!" Chrono exclaimed. "Stop being such a nag about it!"

Yugo and Rin became convinced that Chrono and Tokoha are definitely much like them; admittedly, learning about these parallels was almost scary. The Windwitch user was hesitant on interacting with her look-alike because of the…ordeal that was going on.

"Uh... Rin?" Yugo asked as Tokoha dragged Chrono over to the stadium seats. "You think Cardfighters aren't as different as we thought?"

"Yep," Rin answered.

The crowd got themselves adjusted in the seats that encircled the Center Duel Field; there were even some familiar faces from the Interdimensional War and some people that played larger roles in the alternate timelines within the audience. The eleven teams were given special seats near the arena's center to identify themselves as those that are competing. Only three seats were empty, leaving Yuya, Yugo, and Yuto a bit flummoxed. Pretty soon, Declan showed up to begin the opening ceremony and announce the tournament rules, unbeknownst of why the field was decorated.

"Welcome to the first ever Team Duel Tournament," Declan said. "For those of you who do not know yet, this tournament was put together with one idea in mind: to restore trust between fallen friends due to a recent war between dimensions. Needless to say, I am glad to see the best Duelists taking part in the tournament.

"But before I can begin, I wish to introduce you to someone. He is the one who helped organize this tournament. Presenting the CEO of the Vanguard Association: Mr. Aichi Sendou."

Aichi walked down the arena as some audience members applauded, but the Duelists were generally baffled that he looked a bit young to be the CEO of a rival card game. He had long, blue hair with a bang swept right and blueish-teal eyes. He wore a half-sleeved, light blue jacket with black—and a few white—markings, denim jeans, and gray shoes.

"Thank you, Declan Akaba," Aichi said. "The rules of this tournament might sound familiar to all the Cardfighters in the audience. The teams will be divided into four separate blocks. The three teams in each block will duel each other. Whoever wins the most duels in each block moves on to the next round. Once the four finalist teams are decided, they will be paired up in a standard elimination round. The best two teams will then battle it out, with the winning team being the last team standing."

The rules sounded decently easy enough, but many Duelists were demanding to know why Declan even agreed to use these rules in the first place. The eleven present teams looked at each other with worried looks. Some of the members noticed off in the distance that a few other people in the audience were also uneasy about the vast complaints.

"Calm down, everyone," Aichi said. "I was expecting this kind of backlash. Declan told me about the Interdimensional War, but two years ago, us Cardfighters were having our own problems: a virus called Link Joker." Various images appeared on the arena monitors as he spoke. "Link Joker corrupted the hearts of Cardfighters everywhere with no exceptions. Family and friends were turned against each other during this crisis as more Cardfighters fell to darkness. But with the help of my friends, I was able to defeat Link Joker and purify it so it would no longer corrupt anyone who uses their cards."

Everyone stared in stunned silence at the photos of Link Joker and the terror it brought upon to the Cardfighters. Rumor has it that this incident was briefly discussed in a Duel Monsters magazine. It was clear that none of the Duelists knew about this until just now. Does that mean they will have a change of heart and how they may not be so different after all? So far, a total of five Duelists during the past few weeks, including what happened earlier, had came across this realization, so who knows.

Yuto simply gave Lulu's hand a firm yet loving squeeze. To him, Link Joker was exactly like the Fusion Parasites, corrupting people and forcing them to use cards they would never use before. The very thought angered him. He would never let such a thing happen again.

"A virus..." Yuya said, touching his own face. "Corrupting innocent people...?"

Why would anyone do such a horrible thing to Card Fighters? They may be rivals with Duelists, but even they don't deserve to go through such a catastrophic tragedy. The Duelists soon began to see the similarities that they unknowingly shared with those that played Vanguard. At the same time, Aichi and Declan witnessed the dismay on everyone's faces after hearing the news of this other terrible and dangerous event.

"This is why I told Declan about Vanguard tournaments," Aichi explained. "These tournaments are used to establish trust between teammates, something that Duelists lost because of their war. By the end of this tournament, I can reassure you that family and friends will reunite due to newfound trust."

All around the stadium, Duelists and Cardfighters gradually applauded at the explanation Aichi gave. The more people that clapped, the louder it got and the more touching this moment was. Even those watching this broadcasted tournament were touched by the inspiring words as they've come to accept the fact that Cardfighters and Vanguard weren't so bad after all. Surely, this event will be the last day of their heated rivalry once and for all.

Aichi thanked everyone for listening to what he had to say as he handed the microphone to Declan and sat back down in his seat. It was now time to officially start the opening ceremony.

"Thank you Mr. Sendou," Declan said. "To begin the opening ceremony, one of the Duelists participating in the tournament will recite the Duelist's Oath. And the honor goes to Lulu Obsidian."

Everyone applauded as Lulu went up on stage on her motorized wheelchair. She, her friends, her family, and Yuto are glad that she was fully healed on the day before the tournament, so now she can take part in it; of course, Sarah is still Team Noble's stand-in. Although she might never walk again, little girls within the audience mistaken her for a real life princess; they saw how beautiful she looked despite being handicapped. Even Allie from Team You Show had the same reaction and comment about Lulu being a princess.

"No way!" Allie had cried out. "A real life princess!"

Lulu heard the enthusiastic remark while making her way towards Declan and blushed as she glimpsed at the red-haired girl. Yuto had turned around in his seat to see what the commotion was about, only to realize what she was talking about. He quickly looked back at the dark purple-haired girl, smiling contently because he knew she wasn't wrong; he did mention to his counterparts that his girlfriend was his Rapunzel.

When Lulu had wheeled over to the microphone, Declan lowered it so she could recite the Oath. She cleared her throat as she raised her right hand. "I, Lulu Obsidian, promise to-"

Suddenly, the Center Duel Field's dome steadily closed, leaving everyone in a small, confused frenzy in the now enclosed darkness. Lulu and Declan had trouble figuring what was going on; there's no way this was part of the opening ceremony. Within the dark stadium, three figures appeared and revealed the Fluffal monsters in the arena, the Shaddoll monsters that were hidden in the crowd, and the Predaplant monsters that dangled on the walls. The teams instantly learned there were only three people that use these archetypes.

"Sorry to interrupt," the shortest one said as the three revealed Polymerization cards. "But I think it's our turn to steal the show."

In perfect unison, the three fused a selected group of their monsters to Fusion Summon Frightfur Bear, El Shaddoll Shekhinaga, and Starving Venom Fusion Dragon. The stage lights then turned on to reveal Sora, Dennis, and Yuri, the absent three Duelists. They were dressed up in peculiar costumes: Yuri in his plant-altered Obelisk Force uniform, Dennis in a Shekhinaga-based outfit, and Sora in a toy soldier attire. Music started playing from the machine room, but it was no ordinary musical piece. A lot of people recognized the instrumental number they were hearing. It was time for them to unleash their surprise opening act.

"We know that your powers as mere Duelists," Dennis sang.

"Are as weak as a lone Kuriboh!" Sora sang.

"But weak as you are, pay attention," Yuri sang, taking out his whip. "Our words are a matter of skill!" He used the whip to call Starving Venom to his side.

"It's clear from your vacant expressions," Sora sang, smiling creepily as he hopped onto Frightfur Bear's shoulder. "The lights are not all on upstairs."

"But we're talking Dueltaining legends," Dennis sang as his sat on a Shaddoll Hound's back as El Shaddoll Shekhinaga appeared by his side. "Even you can't be caught unaware." As he sang that line, he threw a dagger at a random picture of Yusho.

"So prepare for a change of the spotlight," Yuri sang, sitting on Starving Venom's hand as he flew across the arena. "Be prepared for a brand new duel style."

"A shining new era is tiptoeing nearer," Sora sang.

"And where do you feature?" Dennis sang.

"Just listen to teacher!" Sora sang as he pointed to his head.

"We know it sounds sordid, but this show's rewarding when at last we deliver our own fun!" Yuri sang.

"And injustice deliciously squared," Sora sang.

"Be prepared!" the three sang in unison.

"That's right, everyone!" Yuri said. "We are Team Obelisk, and we challenge the legacy of Yusho Sakaki!"

"Precisely," Dennis added. "His brand of delivering smiles has become quite tiresome."

"That's why we're introducing a new type of Dueltainment!" Sora gleefully said. "Wicked Dueltainment, a special type of Dueltainment used to oppose all smiles!"

"So get ready, Yusho Sakaki," Yuri said as he, Dennis, and Sora pulled out multiple fusion-type Spell cards. "It is time for a brand new duel king!"

Sora played another Spell card, Frightfur Fusion, which enabled him to use his Bear and two copies of Edge Imp Frightfuloid to Fusion Summon Frightfur Chimera. Dennis followed suit by playing El Shaddoll Fusion; two of the hooded figures saw the Spell card and leapt over to their owner—removing the cloaks to disclose themselves as Zefracore and Zefranaga—to be Fusion materials, resulting in El Shaddoll Winda to appear. Yuri was the third member in the chain as he activated Super Polymerization, using his Predaplants Cordyceps and Darlingtonia Cobra in order to bring out Predaplant Chimerafflesia. The three repeated the process until they Fusion Summoned nearly all of their Fusion monsters, resulting in a stadium full of Frightfur, El Shaddoll, and Predaplant fusions that proceeded to 'entertain' the crowd by demonstrating their powers.

"It's great that you'll soon be connected," Sora sang, now dangling on one of Frightfur Chimera's necks. "With duel kings who shall be admired."

"Of course, quid pro quo, you're expected," Yuri sang, still being carried by Starving Venom. "To take certain measures on board."

"The future is littered with terrors," Dennis sang. "And though we're the main addressees."

"The point that we must emphasize is..." Sora sang.

"You won't get a smile from our show!" Yuri sang as he used his whip once more.

"So prepare for the turn of the century," Sora sang. "Be prepared for the wickedest cast."

"Meticulous planning, tenacity spanning," Dennis sang. "Decades of denial is simply why we'll..."

"Be kings undisputed, respected, saluted," Yuri sang as Starving Venom brought him back on the ground as Shaddoll Hound carried Dennis over to him. "And seen for the wonders we are."

"Yes, our skills and ambitions are bared," Sora said. "Be prepared!" As he sang that last part, Yuri used his whip to bring Sora over to him and Dennis.

"Yes, our skills and ambitions are bared," Yuri sang as he revealed Violet Flash.

"Be prepared!" the trio sang in unison as Yuri activated Violet Flash and another Polymerization at the same time.

A flash of light appeared from Violet Flash to add effect to their concluding act, with the trio's monsters laughing sinisterly, evilly, and maniacally. At the same time, Starving Venom and Chimerafflesia fused together to bring out the Fusion dragon's alternate form: Greedy Venom Fusion Dragon, who proceeded to let out a fearsome roar.

As Team Obelisk stood in their finishing poses, everyone, including the teams, were left with an indecisive reaction. They weren't sure how to react to the surprise performance they all watched. After a few minutes of silence, Celina rolled her eyes and started clapping, wanting to let her boyfriend know the performance was somewhat entertaining. Sylvio and Aura also clapped with her, followed by the rest of the teams, the attending Card Fighters, and finally, the entire audience. It definitely was something they didn't expected to occur, but they were satisfied with how it went and anticipating Team Obelisk's new style of Dueltaining; besides, no one can resist rooting for the villains.

"We are glad you could enjoy our display of a Wicked Dueltainment," Yuri said once the applause died down. "If any of the other teams cross our paths, we will show no mercy."

Yuri, Dennis, and Sora headed towards their empty seats while deactivating their Duel Disks, leading to their monsters disappearing. Lulu gave the microphone to Declan, who thanked the boys for putting on their act and for introducing Wicked Dueltainment to the public. He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses as he stated Lulu will recite the Duelist's Oath without any further interruptions, regardless of how fantastic they were. She and her brother had practiced and memorized the Oath multiple times when ObsidianCorp sponsored past events, so with the Team Duel Tournament being presented by her family's company, this should be a breeze for her.

With the microphone ready, Lulu raised her right hand once more. "I, Lulu Obsidian, promise to play fair, never cheat, and treat all opposing Duelists with utter respect. Furthermore, I will not use fake cards nor sneak in hidden cards during duels. I will also not resort to physical harm on my opponents. In conclusion, I shall respect the game and not resort to becoming a cheating snake."

The audience applauded yet again when she was finished with declaring out the Oath. She handed the microphone back to Declan and wheeled back to her team. Yuya remembered how his attempt at it during the Arc League Championship wasn't his best; it surely doesn't compete with Lulu since she knows it by heart.

"Thank you, Ms. Obsidian," Declan said. "The teams will now be divided into four separate blocks based on duel skills."

The monitor screen showed the four blocks, each with three teams. The pictures of the twelve teams were all shuffled to see who will be paired with who for the first round according to their skills. A few seconds later, the pairings have been made: Teams Smiles, Wishes, and Victor in Block A, Teams Noble, Ace, and You Show in Block B, Teams Turbo, Skillful, and Luck in Block C, and Teams Obelisk, Lancer, and Force in Block D.

Shay looked nervous regarding the other two teams in Block B. "Are you alright, Shay?" Yuto asked.

"Sarah, you're going to have to duel in my spot," Shay said. "I don't think I can handle dueling those teams."

Wait, Shay is suddenly sitting out this round? Yuto wondered why he would make this choice when he was informed that his friend felt guilty of what he did to Julia, Kit, and Dipper; he also doesn't want Frederick, Allie, and Tate to get hurt by his Raidraptors because they're little kids. He'll most likely compete once the winning teams from each block have been determined. Yuto didn't blame him in regards to Team Ace because the Resistance falsely accused Leo Corporation and LID for the Invasion whereas Lulu knew how her older brother has a soft spot for young children.

"It's okay," Lulu said. "I completely understand your reasons. We'll do our best to make sure we make it to the finals."

Shay thanked his teammates for understanding and turned his head to face Sarah, asking her if she was ready. She responded that she's more prepared and confident to duel than ever before, and it was all thanks to Yuya. He was glad to hear this from her, especially since this was going to be her first duel in a while.

"Would anyone like my Fairy Tails?" Sarah realized. "Not everyone uses them, so I'm a bit concerned by their reception."

"You'll do great, Sarah," Lulu reassured. "The Fairy Tails suit you perfectly. I'm sure that once you duel, everyone will love your dueling style."

Sarah stared at Lulu after hearing those words. Fairy Tails aren't a popular archetype among Duelists because only a few monsters were made, all female LIGHT anthropomorphic animals based on fairytales with 1850 ATK and 1000 DEF. Although no Spells and Traps were also created along with the archetype, the spectacled girl found what works well with her monsters to create her deck.

"Thanks Lulu," Sarah said.

"You're welcome," Lulu replied. "Just remember to have fun."

Sarah nodded her head, indicating that she will. Hopefully, as she duels, people will admire her usefulness, skills, and strategies with her Fairy Tails, including her secret weapon…

With the block matchups already decided, Declan instructed the teams to head to the four separate arenas to begin the preliminaries. They all did so, with Shay and Shinji the only ones not dueling as they are still sitting in their seats. Once everyone was situated in their blocks, the monitor then displayed the duels between each competitor. Block A will be Team Smiles vs. Team Victor, Block B pits Team Noble against Team Ace, Block C is a battle between Team Skillful and Team Luck, and Block D involves Team Lancer dueling Team Force.

"Team Ace, huh?" Yuto asked. "So our first opponents are those Leo Institute kids."

"Including Julia," Lulu added, recalling how the Gem-Knight user treated her to a spa day to help prep her for the Leo Corporation dance.

Just like the Vanguard team tournaments, there will be three simultaneous duels occurring in each block with one member from a team going against another member from the opposing team. In Block B's case, it'll be Sarah vs. Julia, Yuto vs. Kit, and Lulu vs. Dipper; the first team from each block to score the most wins moves on to the next round.

"So you're Lulu Obsidian," Dipper said. "I heard your cards are powerful, but can they defeat my Constellar monsters?"

Lulu let out a small laugh. "Oh, you'll see," she answered as she activated the Duel Disk that was now built into her wheelchair.

Kit smirked. "Well if it isn't Shay Obsidian's accomplice," he said. "I must say, from what I heard about you, you're pretty noble. But I have a code of honor of my own."

"I recall," Yuto replied. "You're a swordmaster."

"Correct," Kit said.

"But I have something you probably don't have," Yuto said. "A strong bond with my cards. They helped shape me into becoming who I am today."

"Then maybe it's time you showed me those cards of your songs," Kit said.

As the four Duelists were about to prepare to duel, Sarah and Julia stood across from each other as this was their first time meeting each other.

"Uh... Hi?" Sarah asked.

"You're clearly nervous," Julia stated.

"Huh?" Sarah asked.

"I said, you're nervous," Julia repeated. "You seem unsure of what to do, so this is probably your first time taking part in a big tournament. That probably means your deck doesn't have a clear archetype, so you're not sure if it would actually be effective in a proper dueling environment." She readied her Duel Disk. "But that doesn't mean I'll go easy on you."

Sarah couldn't find the right words to describe how Julia figured her out instantly. She has never encountered someone like her before, but as she shook the thought off, she activated her Duel Disk as well, getting ready to test her newfound confidence she gained during the War.

"Good," Sarah replied. "Because I wasn't expecting an easy win."

With the competing teams fully ready to duel, all four blocks got divided into three sections each to have a total of twelve duels going on at the same time. Since these were Action Duels, all sections got different duel fields, with Sarah and Julia getting a grand ballroom. It was an interesting choice because it made the spectacled girl smile widely while the Gem-Knight user flashbacked a little to her first duel with Zuzu. If that wasn't enough, she quickly realized that she and Sarah were now wearing ball gowns.

"What's going on?!" Julia asked, confused.

"I recognize this Action Field," Sarah explained. "Fairy Tail Palace. This was my favorite Action Field back in Heartland. I even know where all the Action Cards are and which ones I should use at certain moments."

In other words, Fairy Tail Palace gave Sarah an advantage, surprising Julia because it meant her opponent will know the right moves to counter her attacks. Regardless, she may have to step up her game if she was going to win.

"So you use Fairy Tails," Julia realized. "I was right. You have a scattered deck. There are only a few Fairy Tail cards in the whole game, so you don't have a proper archetype."

Sarah knew about her deck being scattered, but it didn't matter nor did she care. It was her deck that she created by herself with her own original strategies, so despite being an underrated archetype, she will bring out its potential.

After everyone set up their Duel Disks, they all shouted "Let's duel!" in unison, marking the start of the preliminaries. Elsewhere, in the main arena, footage of the multiple Action Duels were being aired as Nico and Melissa commentated on what was happening during the first turns.

"Wait a minute!" Nico exclaimed. "Why is Team Turbo riding motorcycles?! This is strictly a no-vehicle duel format!"

"Oh Nico, clearly you never saw Turbo Duels before," Melissa informed. "Team Turbo's Duel Disks are built into their Duel Runners, so their way of duelin' can get rather confusin'."

Nico has never heard of Duel Runners or Turbo Duels before. Action Duels were what he was familiar with the most, so seeing a Turbo Duel for the first time was quite an experience for him. He learned something new today as well from Melissa: it was legal to play card games on motorcycles. She then gave a brief synopsis of how they work; as a Duel Monsters announcer from the Synchro Dimension, her explanations were as easy as pie. While that was going on, Julia went first.

"I'll start things off by using Gem-Knight Fusion to fuse Gem-Knights Lapis and Lazuli!" Julia said. "Two gems sparkle together, illuminating a new stone! I Fusion Summon Gem-Knight Lady Lapis Lazuli!"

As a Level 5 Earth monster with 2400 ATK and 1000 DEF, Lapis Lazuli can only be Fusion Summoned once per turn. She can also inflict 500 damage to her opponent for every special summoned monster on the field by having Julia send one Gem-Knight monster from the Main or Extra Decks to the Graveyard. The Fusion Duelist sent Gem-Knight Amber to the Graveyard to have Sarah's LP decrease to 3500, since Lapis Lazuli was the only special summoned monster on the field. She then placed a card face down, emptying her hand and ending her turn.

"Now let's see what you got, fairytale girl," Julia said.

"Alright," Sarah said. "My turn!" She drew a card, but before she could check her hand, a beautiful song echoed throughout the arena.

"Where is that song coming from?!" Julia asked, confused. "Is this part of the Action Field too?!"

"It's not," Sarah answered. "I recognize that voice anywhere."

Meanwhile, it was Yuto's turn as he was about to XYZ Summon The Phantom Knights Break Sword with his Level 3 Phantom Knights of Ragged Gloves and Phantom Knights of Silent Boots. Just then, he and Kit quickly paused the duel to hear who was singing. Their reactions were similar to Julia and Sarah's because the X-Saber user didn't know where the singing was coming from and who it belonged to while Yuto realized whose voice it was.

"Who's that singing?" Kit asked Yuto. "Your girlfriend?"

"No," Yuto answered, his eyes sparkling with admiration behind his glasses. "An angel."

In the third section, Lulu had activated her Skill known as Natural Energy Burst to give her Lyrilusc - Assembled Nightingale, using Turquoise Warbler, Sapphire Swallow, and two Colbalt Sparrows to XYZ Summon it, a 500 ATK boost while it was sporting the En Birds marking on its forehead for one turn. Her usage was different because she sang a melody to help give its activation a visual effect, which was calling on songbirds.

"Eh... That's it?" Dipper asked once Lulu was finished with her song. "You do know you're not allowed to attack on the first turn, right?"

"I know," Lulu answered. "My Skill is automatically activated when I first XYZ Summon in a duel." She proceeded to play a face down card. "So even though I end my turn, I can activate it again."

As Assembled Nightingale's ATK returned to normal, it was now Dipper's turn. He drew a card from his deck and analyzed the six cards he had before proceeding with his first Main Phase.

As for Sarah, she had finished checking her hand and she had retrieved her first Action Card near a spinning wheel. "I'll start things off with a face down monster," she said. "Which I'll reveal now!"

"You can't flip summon a monster you just set," Julia pointed out.

"Actually, I can," Sarah explained. "I happen to have the Action Spell True Love's Kiss, so awaken from your slumber, Fairy Tail - Sleeper!"

Sleeper appeared on the field now in face-up attack position. She was a pink cat with long, fluffy, golden hair, a big, bushy tail, and wore a orange dress. A book can be seen on her tail along with a reddish-pink bow. She let out a yawn as if she just woke up.

"So that's a Fairy Tail monster," Julia remarked. "Not bad, but what's one little kitty going to do?"

"Call on a friend," Sarah answered. "Now that Sleeper woke up from her deep sleep, she can allow me to summon another Fairy Tail from my hand. And I'm summoning Fairy Tail - Rella!"

Sleeper's book glowed brightly, allowing Rella to make her debut as she was being summoned by popping out of the book. She was a light blue dog with her blue hair curled up, a bushy tail like Sleeper, and wore a light green dress with glass slippers. She too had a book and a bow on her tail, but the bow was aquamarine with light purple patches stitched on it.

"There's more," Sarah continued as she picked up an Action Card near a pumpkin. "I activate Rella's special ability! By discarding the Action Spell Pumpkin Charm, I can retrieve the Equip Spell United We Stand from my deck and equip it to Rella!"

After Rella's book glowed when Pumpkin Charm was sent to Sarah's Graveyard, United We Stand increased her ATK and DEF by 800 for each of Sarah's face up monsters on the field after she equipped it to the dog princess. She was ready to begin her Battle Phase.

"Fairy Tail - Rella, attack Lady Lapis Lazuli!" Sarah declared. "Stroke of Midnight!"

Rella ran towards Lapis Lazuli to kick the Gem-Knight Fusion with her glass slippered feet and deal 1050 damage to Julia until…

"I activate the Trap card Brilliant Spark!" Julia declared. "Since Rella attacked Lapis Lazuli, you lose 1850 life points!"

Brilliant Spark sent a blast to Sarah to decrease her LP to 2150; however, Julia noticed a small smirk on her opponent's face and soon caught on the one mistake she made: she now has no monsters on her side of the field, meaning she was vulnerable for a direct attack from Sleeper.

"Fairy Tail - Sleeper, attack Julia directly!" Sarah declared. "Spindle Prick!"

Sleeper extended her front arms and aimed it at the Gem-Knight user and proceeded to shoot out needles towards her, reducing her LP down to a mere 300. Some of the audience members in the stadium that were watching the duel between Julia and Sarah and were ecstatically crazy at how an incomplete archetype can result in such an amazing turn-around.

"Amazing!" someone had cried out. "Those Fairy Tails are so powerful!"

"I don't know," someone else said. "Don't you think it's unfair that she's able to pull that off with the Action Field?"

That made Julia realize Sarah had an unfair advantage. "You wouldn't have been able to use your combo without that Action Spell!" she pointed out.

Sarah let out a small laugh. "That's not true," she explained. "My whole deck is based off of this Action Field. Sure I have my Fairy Tails, but I also included various support cards that act exactly the same way as the Action Cards from Fairy Tail Palace. Dueling on this Action Field only speeds up my combos and strategies."

Julia was rapidly taken back by what she heard because it turns out that she was at a fair disadvantage, not Sarah having an unfair advantage. The explanation made the people watching the two girls' duel grew more enthusiastic; even the person who questioned about the tactic had second thoughts of what he said and admitted that it was actually a clever use of the Fairy Tails archetype. Naturally, Nico spotted the marvelous strategy used against the dark-haired girl on the monitor.

"Incredible!" Nico exclaimed. "It appears Sarah Glitters is a lot smarter than we initially thought! Having memorized a whole Action Field and working her deck around it is a clever strategy!"

"Well I don't know about y'all, but I'm more focused on Team Turbo," Melissa commented. "I think I r'member seein' those three fellas from the Friendship Cup, but Miss Rin is somethin' special. Her Windwitches are quite a powerful force."

"I'll just conclude my turn with a face-down," Sarah said. "But sadly, Rella has to return United We Stand back to my hand."

With her book glowing, Rella lowered her ATK and DEF to their original amounts as Sarah removed the Equip Spell and returned it to her hand. Julia drew a card to start her turn and looked at what was in her hand. It wasn't a Polymerization or an alternative Fusion Spell card, but it was better than nothing. She activated Monster Reborn to bring back Lapis Lazuli; now she needed to find an Action Spell that centers on Fusion Summoning, so she ran through the Palace, looking for one. She found one on a chair that was near a small bureau with an oval mirror and grabbed it, only to react in dismay at what it is.

"What?!" she exclaimed, looking at the Action Card she just picked up.

"That would be the Action Trap Severed Toe," Sarah explained. "It causes all of your monsters to lose half their attack points until the beginning of your next turn. Didn't you notice the blood-stained knife?"

She looked at the top of the bureau to see the bloody knife and slowly realized there were visual representations around the Action Field. True Love's Kiss near a spinning wheel, Pumpkin Charm next to a pumpkin, Severed Toe on top of a chair near a knife… Action Spells represented rewards while Action Traps were punishments. Julia stared in disbelief as Lapis Lazuli was having trouble standing up due to now having 1200 ATK. Looking at her hand, empty and cordless, she questioned herself if this Trap she played was her punishment for relying too much on her Gem-Knights and not knowing a lot about fairytales in this duel. With no other move to make, she chose to end her turn. She would have surrendered, but she didn't, which was perfect for Sarah. It was time to unleash her secret weapon.

"My turn!" Sarah declared as she drew a card. "And I'll start things off by summoning Fairy Tail - Luna!"

Luna spun herself into the field upon being summoned. She was an orange fox with long, blue hair that had a few teal streaks, a bushy tail like the other Fairy Tails, and wore a kimono with top being green and having red edges and the bottom being orange-pink and having floral patterns on it. She carried a dark brown fan with a light blue crescent moon and a pink flower with a red-to-greenish-blue gradient on the ribbons. Her tail had an opened scroll and a dual-colored tied-up string—one half was red while the other half was light purplish-pink.

"Then I activate Fairy Tail - Luna's special ability!" Sarah continued, causing Luna's scroll to glow. "I can retrieve another Fairy Tail from my deck, which I can special summon with the right card..."

Ultimately Sarah was able to find an Action Card next a statue of a deer. "And I'll use this Action Spell: Animal Call! Since I have at least one Fairy Tail on my field, I can summon another one to join them. So I'll summon the very one I retrieved thanks to Luna, and her name is Fairy Tail - Snow!"

Snow scurried onto the field to join her Fairy Tail friends. She was a light-skin-toned squirrel with a brown bob hairstyle that had some red streaks and had a light green with a small, white polka-dotted patterned bow. She wore a red dress with a white collared underdress and two light green bows: one with white polka dots in front of her neck and a plain one on the back. Like the other Fairy Tails, she also had a long, bushy tail, which had an opened book with a light green bow.

Four Fairy Tails, each being a Level 4 monster. That could only mean one thing: Sarah had everything she needed to bring out her secret weapon.

"I heard of Fairy Tail - Snow," Julia said. "You're going to use her special ability to flip my monster into face-down defense mode."

Sarah let out a laugh. "True, but not this duel."

Her demeanor suddenly changed into a more…ruthless personality. She was no longer the sweet, shy girl with higher self-esteem as she was getting ready to continue her Main Phase.

"Funny how a chance encounter with a handsome prince can change a maiden such as myself," Sarah said. "How he can suddenly appear out of nowhere with a smile and encourage you to break out of your shell. Meeting someone that beautiful, both inside and out, really is something special."

Julia was confused. "Who are you talking about?" she asked.

"But I don't mind that the prince was meant to be with another maiden," Sarah continued. "I dared not to tamper with their destined paths. Yet I'm not sure when, but I know I'll ultimately find a prince who will love me just as much."

Sarah closed her eyes. "This is for you, Yuya Sakaki." She opened her eyes, a newfound spark emerging. "Fairy Tails Luna, Rella, Snow, and Sleeper, join forces to create the Overlay Network!"

All four Fairy Tails formed a circle and joined paws with each other before constructing the Overlay Network. Just then, as a result of preparing to XYZ Summon, ice formed all throughout Fairy Tail Palace and spread to the other two sections, covering the entirety of Block B in an icy sheet.

"Hey, what gives?!" Kit asked. "What's with all the ice?!"

Yuto let out a deep chuckle. "Let's just say the Queen is coming," he answered.

Dipper had a hard time standing properly. "Where did all this ice come from?!" he asked.

"From the Queen," Lulu answered.

An icy wind swirled all over Fairy Tail Palace. "Mistress of the cold, emerge onto the field and punish the wicked of this world!" Sarah chanted. "I XYZ Summon Fairy Tail - Queen!"

Queen made her debut by having snow and wind encircle around the Overlay Network as she appeared onto the duel field. Her attribute was WATER instead of LIGHT, but her ATK and DEF remained the same as the other Fairy Tails. She was an arctic fox with long, luscious, icy blueish-white hair. She wore a blue, floor-length dress with light blue fur around the chest area and hips, as well as on her lower arms, and long, icy blue gloves that extend up to her back side of her hands. Her accessories consisted of a crown with beads around her head and multiple necklaces; they, along with the fur around the upper chest and hips, were all encrusted with blue gems.

"This is the true power of Fairy Tails," Sarah explained. "They're pretty powerful individually, but when they come together, they become unstoppable."

Julia couldn't believe what she was hearing; how can an incomplete archetype prove themselves to be more than just incomplete? Their abilities coincided fluidly with the Action Cards and Field, and now that they were Overlay Units to their mighty Queen, she was going to be shown the undying loyalty that all five monsters shared with each other and how they have potential for being used in Duel Monsters.

"I activate Fairy Tail - Queen's special ability!" Sarah declared. "By using one Overlay Unit, she places a Mirror Counter inside your monster's heart, preventing it from attacking during your next turn!"

A shard of glass that looked like it was from a broken mirror popped in front of Queen's paw and she threw it into Lapis Lazuli's heart, giving her a Mirror Counter and preventing her from attacking.

"But there's more," Sarah continued. "As long as there's at least one monster on the field with a Mirror Counter, Fairy Tail - Queen can attack you directly!"

An increasingly thunderstruck Julia yelled out the "What?!" card because what Sarah said basically means she is screwed. Even if she activates Lapis Lazuli's effect, it still wouldn't make a difference.

"Precisely," Sarah replied. "This duel is officially over. Fairy Tail - Queen, attack with Unforgiving Blizzard!"

Queen raised her paw and thrust it in Julia's direction, commanding a blast of heavy snow to attack her. She got pelted with fast, hard-hitting snowflakes and the strong winds blew her off her feet and tumbled her on the icy floors, wiping out her remaining 300 LP.

"And there it is, folks!" Nico announced. "The first winner of Block B is Sarah Glitters of Team Noble!"

The audience cheered as loudly as they could as a way to congratulate Sarah on her victory and her spectacular usage of Fairy Tails. The Action Field and Queen both disintegrated to signal the duel's conclusion, causing the girls' ballgowns to revert back to their normal clothes.

Julia was about to stand back up when Sarah walked over to her. "That was a fun duel," the XYZ user said, reaching out her hand.

This made Julia start blushing; everything about this scenario was exactly like the time she was defeated by Zuzu during the Arc League Championship.  She looked at Sarah, who was back to her usual personality as seen by her smile, and then back at her hand for only a few silent seconds.

Julia grabbed onto Sarah's hand, letting her help her stand back up. "I'm impressed," she said. "Those Fairy Tails sure are amazing, kinda like you."

"Aww, thank you!" Sarah replied. "Your Gem-Knights look amazing as well."

Julia was flattered by Sarah's compliment and quickly realized that she might be developing a crush on her. She always was shown to be more attracted to females than males, which was most evident during her first tournament defeat. This was practically déjà vu for her; only this time, she was developing feelings for Sarah because she knows about Zuzu's feelings for Yuya.

"Mauling Mandible Charge!"

"Graceful Winds!"

Yuto and Lulu declared their ace monsters' signature attacks to deplete Kit and Dipper's down to 0. As a result, with a score of 3-0, Team Noble claimed the victory for the Block B's first three simultaneous duels, causing the audience to cheer and applaud for their first wins. The other two Action Fields and the monsters vanished as the two sections returned to their original appearances. Outside of the block, Team You Show were waiting for their turn to duel and watched Sarah, Yuto, and Lulu win against Team Ace, meaning the next three duels will revolve around the kids battling against the three XYZ users, followed by the three representatives of LID's special summoning courses.

But while Tate and Fredrick were expressing concern regarding being able to keep up in the next round, Allie was absolutely amazed. She kept her eyes on Lulu's duel, watching how the dark-haired beauty dueled. In Allie's young, innocent mind, Lulu was a lot like the princesses she read in books. And if that wasn't enough, there was a high possibility that she would duel the wheelchair-bound princess.

Julia, Kit, and Dipper all walked out of the mini arena to wait for their next duels, wishing the kids good luck and to do their best against Team Noble and the formers. Team You Show all replied that they will as they headed in to start the next matches in Block B. The rest of the blocks were also displaying the outcomes from the other duels via monitor screens. The audience went wild with the victories they watched while Nico and Melissa expressed the action unfolding in the arenas and predicted who would win the preliminaries…

[justgotham]

This Monday, Fox’s pre-Batman drama series “Gotham” wraps its winter run with the full, ferocious return of Jerome. Now, fans of the show are undoubtedly excited about the development, but casual comic book types are likely asking a simple question. “Who the Hell is Jerome?”

This is what you’d call a problem.

For three years, “Gotham” has worked hard to prevent itself from committing to any one portrayal of the Joker – the Dark Knight’s indisputable arch nemesis and perhaps the fan favorite supervillain of all time. But over the past two seasons, the show has also elevated recurring guest star Cameron Monaghan’s unhinged, circus-born serial killer Jerome Valeska to a major foe. With pasty-white skin, an ear-to-ear grin and a cackle that could curdle blood, Jerome has been one of the most memorable additions to a show that’s often in desperate need of crowd-pleasing moments.

So why not just call him the Joker? Despite “Gotham’s” insistence that it’s entire run will be an origin story for the Batman’s world, there are plenty of reasons that this one particular piece be put in place now. Below, CBR runs down six reasons why turning Jerome into the purple-suited Clown Prince of Crime will make the character and the TV show stronger.

Joker’s Nonexistent Past Is Hardly Canon

It can be argued that there’s never been a definitive origin story for who the Joker was before he gained his repulsive rictus. But don’t believe people who tell you that the villain has never had or should never have an origin tale. It’s not just that “Detective Comics” #168’s legendary story “The Man Behind The Red Hood!” gave us the most accepted version of Joker’s “thrown in a vat of acid by Batman” origin (written by co-creator Bill Finger, no less). Over the years, dozens of comic creators have filled in bits of Joker’s backstory, from Alan Moore to J. Michael Straczynski, though they’ve often left specific details vague.

Only since Christopher Nolan’s film “The Dark Knight” have people embraced the idea of a Joker who aggressively denies any true past as canonical. This may have been inspired by his initial, origin-less appearances, but back then, such things simply weren’t stated — like most comic villains of the era. So anyone who claims that Jerome’s origin of murdering his mother before going kill-crazy breaks some kind of rule established by the villain’s creators is missing a whole lot.

More importantly, film and TV versions of the character have been happy to create the character’s full backstory when it suits them – most famously the “mobster who murdered Bruce Wayne’s parents” angle in Tim Burton’s classic 1989 “Batman” movie. And stories like that – while usually much more widely seen than any comic book – have done little to blunt the impact of the Joker as a character all his own. Nobody today expects that making Jerome the Joker full-on would somehow taint the character or irrevocably alter how he’s portrayed in the comics.

Every Other Faux-Joker On “Gotham” Has Failed

Aside from the “making Jerome the Joker wouldn’t really hurt the character” case, there are plenty of great reasons why making this happen is a positive thing. First and foremost is the fact that ever other attempt “Gotham” has made at channeling the Ace of Knaves has fallen way flat.

Longtime viewers of the show will recall that in its early episodes, “Gotham” peppered in “potential Jokers” all over the place from failing comedians to frustrated family men. It was such an awkward, story-killing bit of business that the producers soon dropped it all together from their creative arsenal. Later, when the series attempted to revive a piece of Joker canon with the Scott Snyder/Greg Capullo-inspired Red Hood gang, the resulting mask mobsters were completely devoid of personality. Recent attempts to revive the Red Hood angle have fared no better.

Worst of all, since Jerome landed on the show and totally stole the scene from nearly every other plotline, the writers’ initial premise that his (since overturned) death would inspire mass insanity across the city has been a dropped ball. Even when they picked that idea back up as a way to reintroduce Jerome, the story pretty much went out of its way to show how no one would ever be as good as him.

So if the acid-squirting flower fits this guy so well, why not let him wear it?

Harley Quinn’s Impending Intro Is Flawless Timing

The producers of “Gotham” have made it no secret that they’ll be introducing their version of DC’s most popular female character later this season (sorry, Diana, but you know that Truth is Truth). But with some version of Harley Quinn in the offing, the big question becomes, what is there even worth doing with this character before there’s a Joker on the scene? In almost every major Harley story of all-time, the character is played as mild-mannered public servant until Joker unleashes the crazy within her. If “Gotham’s” past is any indication, their solution could be something as bland as a forgettable psychiatrist who occasionally says things like, “I can’t wear red lipstick…that’d be crazy!”

But putting Harley center stage right when Jerome steps into the real Joker role not only solves these problems, it opens up some scary good story directions. Imagine a season of the show where fans get to see the famous Harley origin story “Mad Love” writ large – a mash-up of “Natural Born Killers” and Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan movie where Jim Gordon and company are hopelessly outmatched? It leans into “Gotham’s” very best tendency for absurd action (and over-acting) rather than more lame attempts at making this madcap world feel “real” (whatever that means).

The Show Is At Its Best When It Goes Full Comic Book

Cementing the argument for Jerome as Joker is the fact that “Gotham” only really connects with the wider fandom when it fully embraces comic book identities. Remember when Ed Nygma was a nerdy annoyance who just said the word “Riddle” three times in a scene before being totally forgotten? That all ended when he finally was given motivation to strike back at Jim Gordon and went all-in planting Riddler-inspired clues and bombs across the city. Since then, the villain has been one of the most enjoyable members of the show’s ensemble.

And it’s not an accident that Oswald Cobblepot has remained both the most beloved member of the show’s cast at the same time as he’s been the only character graced with his comic book alter ego of the Penguin. From his crafty takeover of Gotham’s mayoralty to the way he’s weaseled through a crime world that considers him an outsider, this Oswald is virtually indistinguishable form his four-color counterpart. (Okay, maybe add 60 pounds, but otherwise…)

When you compare these fully fledged supervillain turns to the numerous also-rans in “Gotham’s” history (Balloonman, that awful Wall Street reinvention of Black Mask, the dead end Scarecrow story), it’s clear that the show’s creators find more fun to be had when tweaking comic book character’s identities – not just teasing them. At this point, Jerome doesn’t have to be quite the dapper danger we think of when we see the classic Joker. But giving him a name and a “first draft” version of the purple costume would feel earned after so much pussyfooting.

The Supervillain’s Influence Would Cement The Need For Batman

From the first episode of “Gotham,” the show has been caught in a massive Catch-22 scenario. If the series main plot is ostensibly about Jim Gordon and company’s attempts to be white knights in a city full of black-hearted crooks, how could it possibly end in a satisfying manner? On the one hand, Jim fails, and the entire show is a tragic waste of the audience’s time. On the other hand, if Gordon succeeds there’s actually no reason for Bruce to become Batman.

Watching the Joker fully rise up as a new kind of criminal threat alters this landscape in a way that truly prepares viewers for the birth of the Dark Knight. If Jerome takes charge in turning the show’s drab mobsters into insane supervillains, then Jim Gordon totally realigning the GCPD into a fighting force for good still comes up short without totally undercutting its ultimate redemption arc. Plus, the young Bruce Wayne will be given sufficient motivation for taking his quest for justice outside the law (right now, he’s got a pretty good example of police work being a righteous path in Jim). It’s a win-win for the show’s ultimate endgame.

This Show Needs the Lift That Joker Could Provide

Finally, “Gotham” needs to make Jerome the Joker because it needs to finally give people a reason to care about it. The Fox network is traditionally pretty shifty on supporting genre entertainment over the long haul, and while this DC series has fared better than the average “Dollhouse” due to its comic book roots, the show has slipped in the ratings compared to the rock-solid (and admittedly more forgiving) numbers its CW counterparts pull. With an impending “X-Men” TV series that Fox will own a bigger part of in the works, there’s no reason for the network to support the Batman’s world over many more seasons unless it delivers something big for ratings and buzz.

Plastering a fully-fledged Joker on the side of a bus at San Diego Comic-Con might seem like a shameless cash grab (because it would be!), but in the cold hard facts of the crowded superhero TV marketplace, it’s also a no-brainer.

Plus, for all the reasons explored above, adding the Joker to the show full time will be a major creative boon as well, and “Gotham” needs that more than any other show in years. While the series has undoubtedly improved from its absolutely wretched first season, it’s never gotten more than mediocre in quality. Jerome as the Joker provides the wild energy that the series has always flirted with and a marketing shot in the arm that could let this series go down as a worthy piece of Batman storytelling.