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kyoupann · 4 years ago

Note

Please do more of the writing head canons. It’s really interesting to see other people’s ideas on the topic, so if you can be bothered, I would highly appreciate more, thanks bye <3

Y’all don’t know how happy I am to talk about these headcanons, they are my babies and I love them so much :’) thanks for asking g <3

Handwriting Headcanons

Same dynamic as before, try to guess whose handwriting it is before reading and tell me how many you got right! <3

You can find the first post here (no need to check it tho)

Quick disclaimer: halfway through making my initial notes, I remembered I had one (1) single lesson of graphology in my applied linguistics class, but that was a year ago and some information might be off. I just thought it was neat to include.

Another quick disclaimer: I don’t know much about Hylian, but I like to think it has a similar stroke system to Japanese, so the pressure and accuracy of your strokes play a major role in your handwriting (among other things, ofc.) so there are some parts where I focus more on that

(First Row, from left to right)

Sky

Our first boy is mother hen! Believe it or not, he has the prettiest handwriting out of all of them! Sky: probably has nice, even elegant handwriting because Sun forced him to practice when they were little. In the end, that paid off because his handwriting is the prettiest one. There’s no pressure, but he is confident in what he writes that his lines aren’t thin. Mistakes? what is that? this boy has impeccable grammar and spelling. No mechanic errors to be found in his letters! I’d like to think that many of Hyrule’s classic/staple poems were originally written by the firt king aka sky child. Like, imagine, after a retiring from being a Person of Power (as the first ruler), Sky finds comfort in the arts: revisits his old woodcarvings and starts writing poetry about the world he still doesn’t fully understand. wowie. tldr: sky writes poetry and you can pry it from my cold dead hands.

This is what one of his letters would look like:

Next one is the one and only, our Hero of Time

2. Time

I’ll die on the “Time didn’t know how to read and write” hill. His handwriting is simple, not pretty but not messy. It has some grammar and spelling mistakes here and there. Can become unreadable if writing in a hurry, he sorts of forgets spaces between words are a thing/letters have different sizes and lowercase letters end up the same size as capital letters. I’m not saying he sometimes forgets to write articles: he just doesn’t want to. Honestly, he just has this dad-neat handwriting. He is a gentle dad and writes like a dad, if he puts too much pressure onto the paper, his handwriting become too sharp/angle-ish and ends up looking ugly. And as much as he would like to not care about it, in the end he does (:

Malon taught him how to write and it was quite the experience. At first he didn’t want to because he was ‘too old’ to learn and it was torture at first, but now look at him devouring his cowboy novels.

A chunk of his handwriting:

*sniff* such a dad quote.

3. my mansss, your 4x1 deal at Target: Four

Look, my boy is patient! He could do some nice and fancy lettering if he wanted to. He was taught that handwriting and spelling said a whole lot about him as a person, you know, like a first impression kinda thing; so he always proof reads more than twice before sending a letter. Super rare grammar mistakes.

The faster he writes, the more slant his writing becomes. Under stress/ when not sure how to write things down, run-on sentences are everywhere and his handwriting is inconsistent in general (I don’t headcanon each part of him having completely different handwriting because handwriting becomes muscle memory over time. It’s just slightly different variations of the same, like idk Vio’s handwriting is neater than Green’s and Red writes hearts instead of any dot/circle and no, I do not take constructive criticism on that, jk i do.) Adding on to each of the colours’ handwriting, I’d think Red and Green write with words slanted to the right( inclined), Vio is a mix of the opposite, so reclined and straight, and my mans blue a true neutral writes straight (kinda like Time’s).

The logic behind this is that inclined writing supposedly means honesty and need for giving (and getting) affection; reclined means, as you can probably imagine, defensiveness and repression of true feelings, but also shows great concentration; straight handwriting means self-control, observation and reflection as well as distrust and indifference. But as complete being (tm), Four just writes as in the image example which is not too straight and not too inclined, and I believe that’s a good middle for him

HOWEVER, if I’m feeling in the mood for crack, I totally accept this boy to have the ugliest, chicken scratches-looking handwriting! :’D It’s just funny to think that someone like him, who has to be precise and careful in his work, can't write neatly to save his life.

One of his letters would look like this:

Also I just LOVE how his hero titles look in this font ksksks

and that’s

(Middle row, from left to right)

4.- Mister Bunny Boy - Legend

His uncle taught him how to write. I’d call his handwriting pretty and neat at a first glance, but he presses too hard on the paper, most of the time staining the back or the following page. Sometimes will retrace some words if he doesn’t like how it looks (which only makes it messier). According to my notes, a thick or strong handwriting represents determination/commitment.

As I also headcanon him to know many languages, mechanical errors are more present than grammar ones; that is, weird capitalisation of words. Punctuation is somewhere in between; uses too many commas when he should just cut the sentence. he mixes punctuation from two languages or more in writing when too distracted (or too focused, because, well, pressure.); when he writes for himself, he has almost no problem following said language’s punctuation rules. Also, this is just polyglot culture, and I’m projecting a bit, but when he forgets a word in the language he’s writing, he just replaces it with its equivalent in another language because we don’t care about fluency, but rather functionality. in this household (more on that in my language hc, ksksks).

An example of his writing:

so powerful

4.- Mr. Wolfman, howl me a song - Twilight

I don’t have much for him because 1) I don’t think he writes a lot and 2) he is a hands-on/visual learner, I’ll die by that. He only learnt how to write because Ulli insisted it was important and he was not about to disrespect his momma; he IS That Guy, but doesn’t really write enough to have neat handwriting.

Many people seem to overlook the fact that his house is filled with books and write him as completely illiterate (which if not explored properly, ends up feeling a bit disrespectful and full of prejudice, but go off I guess; and that’s on my core Headcanons for Twi); however, he sticks to simple sentences. Knowing how to read and understanding a text is different from knowing how to write them. Like, when we would see a semicolon and understand its position in the text, but didn’t understand the nature of it. Is this clear? idk i’m sorry. So yeah, boy reads a lot, writes very little.

As for his Actual Handwriting, as opposed to Legend, his handwriting is thiccc but not because he presses into the paper; he is just that messy, he has no sense of ink-flow-control, he does what he can with what he has. To the untrained eye, his handwriting illegible letters like v, n, u are very similar; when he makes notes for himself he does it in the form of doodles or small ‘icons’. But! He reads a lot, so he rarely makes spelling mistakes (: he is your go-to guy when you don’t know how to write a word.

An example of his writing:

He keeps a journal, sue me.

3. My first born- Warrior

Okay, first off... I accept this is completely biased. I saw the idea and said “That’s True”. If you haven’t, please read Effective Communication; or The Lack of Thereof by htruona, a fic where the boys reflect on the language barriers between them. It’s incredibly funny and probably what made me start making these silly notes. So, if you’ve read that fic, you know where I’m going.

My man, Warrior, can’t fucking write. I mean, he physically can, but it’s very bad. Here’s the reason for it, tho, and it’s not his fault: Technically, he knew how to write alright but he joined the military and whatever note he had to write had to be concise or in the worst case coded. He mixes capital and lowercase letters. If we consider that he joined the military at around 15, his handwriting and grammar had yet to continue developing. Just think about how after summer break, your handwriting was always slightly worse than before because you didn’t write for an entire month. Now think what 2 years can do to that. Hmm, not cool, dude. He makes quick notes, when writing he’s all gotta go fast. he is the lighting mcqueen of writing; good for emergency messages, not ideal for love letters. His punctuation also suffered a lot, he only know full stops and commas and hardly uses them. A sentence for him is either one word or fifty without a single comma, no inbetween.

His hero title and an example of his writing.

(Bottom row, or what I like to call “fuck cursive” row)

7.- Magic man - Hyrule

I’m basic and I do agree with the popular headcanon of he not knowing how to write because well, y’all know his Hyrule. He only knows how to write his name because that’s important, same with numbers. I don’t see why would he write/read except checking the roadsigns. (he can even use this as an excuse for getting lost frequently; he thought it said something different.) But I do think that because his habitual reading consists of roadsigns, his ‘punctuation’ is weird af and places full stops/points/periods at the same level of his words and his commas/question/exclamation marks below them. Yk, creative license. Sadly, I don’t have much about my magic hands man so here’s what his writing would look like if he actually wrote a paragraph:

Man, I love Hyrule.

8.- Man, I don’t understand this boy - Wild

Cursive? ain’t nobody have the time for that. He woke up and had to save the world in his underwear while not knowing how to read nor write. He learnt during his journey and was taught by multiple people from different regions, that explains his inconsistent spelling of things and names for them. So Wild knows language variations for many items and uses them interchangeably (even if they aren’t exactly the same). Another headcanon related to writing/language skills that I’ve been thinking about is that if the shrine was able to cause amnesia, I’m sure there were other areas in the brain affected which leads us to language disorders such as agraphia and aphasia. But that’s a story for another day ksksksk

An example of his writing (after relearning)

9.- The best of sons - Wind

I don’t have much for him and that makes me sad. Look, he’s a kid, doing kid things like stabbing dudes on the head. This boy was taught cursive by his grandma, but could never do it and no one needs it anyway. His handwriting is good enough for his pirate life, Tetra is the one to handle Official stuff, he just gotta sign. Spelling and grammar mistakes abound. He is still relatively young and can correct his handwriting if he desires. But same as Wild, with how many times he’s been thrown out and hit his head, I’m starting to consider some language disorder for him as well.

An example of his writing:

aaand that’s it.

Thanks, y’all for showing interest in this silly thing uwu it was fun to finally talk about this. If you ever want to discuss ideas/headcanons(especially if they are related to language and culture), I’m your person (: I’m always happy to hear new headcanons. Feel free to add anything to this post either in a reply or in a reblog, I’d love to hear from y’all <3<3

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shirlleycoyle · 3 years ago

Text

How 9/11 Became Fan Fiction Canon

Every fictional character you can think of has experienced 9/11 in fanfiction.

A Clone Wars veteran with two lightsabers is on United Airlines Flight 93 and prevents it from crashing. Ron and Hermione get caught up in the chaos as the towers fall. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and her friends watch the attacks unfold on TV from Sunnydale. We have spent 20 years trying to process what happened on 9/11 and its fallout, and that messy process can be tracked through the countless, sad, disturbing, and sometimes very funny fanfiction left across the internet.

Many of the fanfics written in the weeks and months following the 9/11 attacks seemed to directly respond to the news as it happened, processing the tragedy in real-time through the eyes of characters they loved. In the absence of a canon episode where Daria Morgendorffer paid respects to those lost, writing fanfic about these characters also experiencing trauma helped fans cope.

One YuGiOh fanfic published on fanfiction.net in May 2002 could have been ripped exactly from what this writer experienced that Tuesday morning. “It started as a normal day,” user Gijinka Renamon wrote. Yugi and his friends were in school, where their teacher informed them of the attacks and sent everyone home from school.

“After reading people’s 9/11 fics, I decided to write my own, and put a certain character in it. And Yugi and his pals were my first choice,” the author's note reads, explaining the connection they felt to United flight 93 and the World Trade Center attacks. Given that they lived in Pennsylvania, and “it’s close to New York, I felt really sad about it.”

Stitch, a fandom journalist for Teen Vogue, told Motherboard that this reaction to 9/11 is not at all uncommon in fandom.

"Fandom has always been a place that positions nothing as 'off limits,'" she said. "Historical tragedies like the Titanic sinking and atrocities like… all of World War 2 show up regularly across the past 30 years of people creating stories and art about the characters they love. So, on some level, it makes sense that 9/11 and the following 20-year military installation in the Middle East has joined the ranks of things people in different fandoms turn into settings for their fan fiction."

Reactions depicted in a handful of Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfics published in the weeks after the attacks ring a little truer to the characters. “Tuesday, 11th September 2001,” written by Anna K, almost echoes the lyrics from “I’ve Got a Theory,” one of the songs in the musical episode that aired in November 2001. “We have seen the apocalypse. We have prevented it. Actually, we’ve prevented quite a few. So we know what they look like,” they write, before taking a darker turn. “They look a lot like…New York today.”

Killing demons and vampires doesn’t phase the Scooby Gang, but when preventable human death is brought into the picture, it’s gut wrenching.

“What am I supposed to do…When I can’t do anything to save the world?” Buffy cries into Spike’s chest, watching the attacks unfold on TV in a fanfic the author described as being “about feeling numb and helpless.”

In “Blood Drive,” Kirayoshi writes about Buffy and her friends saving a van full of donated blood meant for victims of the attacks from a group of thirsty vampires. One Buffy the Vampire Slayer fic even takes a blindly patriotic turn, where noted lesbian witch Tara McClay helps Xander hang an American flag from the window of the magic shop to make Anya feel better.

Experiencing 9/11 as a young teenager was overwhelming not just because of the loss of life. Almost immediately after the event itself, it was as if the entirety of American culture re-oriented itself towards an overtly jingoistic stance. As we get distance from the attacks, seeing the tone of television and movies from the early 2000s is jarring, and some have gone viral on Twitter. In the world of pop music, mainstream musicians like the Chicks, formerly known as the Dixie Chicks, were blacklisted from the radio while Toby Keith sang about putting a boot up the ass of terrorists. On the Disney Channel, a young Shia Labeouf reading a poem he supposedly wrote about the events. The poem concludes with the line, "it's awesome to be an American citizen."

In a world so completely saturated with this messaging, it is not surprising that fanfic authors started including 9/11 in their work so soon after the event. Even The West Wing had a strange, out of continuity, fanfic-esque episode where the characters reacted to 9/11. In some cases, it made sense that the characters in the stories would be close to or a part of the events themselves.

"For characters like John Watson or Captain America, the idea works to an extent," Stitch told Motherboard. "In the original Sherlock Holmes works and the 2011 BBC series, Watson had just returned from Afghanistan. For Captain America and other Marvel heroes, 9/11 was something that was addressed in-universe in The Amazing Spider-Man volume 2 #36. Technically, 9/11 is 'canon' to the Marvel universe."

In “Early Warning: Terrorism,” a fanfiction for the TV show Early Edition in which a man who mysteriously receives tomorrow's newspaper, predicting the future, avoids jingoism, but tries to precent 9/11 from happening. This fanfic remains unfinished; it’s unclear if the characters successfully prevent 9/11 in this retelling.

Largely in fanfic from the era just after 9/11, when many young authors were trying to emotionally grapple with it, the characters don't re-write or undo the events themselves. It's this emphasis on the reaction to tragedy that colors the fanfiction that features 9/11 going forward.

Although fanfiction authors have been writing about 9/11 consistently since soon after the event, whenever that fanfiction reaches outside of its intended audience, it looks bizarre.

A screenshot of a Naruto 9/11 fanfic on the Tumblr subreddit comes without any context, or even more than two lines and an author's note. It’s impossible to suss out if this falls into the category of sincere fanfic without the rest of the piece or a publication date, but modern-day commenters on the Reddit thread see it as classic Tumblr trash.

Screenshot from r/Tumblr

“Bin Laden/Dick Cheney, enemies to lovers, 10k words, slow burn,” one user joked in the replies, underscoring the weirdness of Naruto being in the Twin Towers by comparing it to a What If story about Cheney and Bin Laden slowly falling deeply in love.

It’s hard to tell how much of the 9/11 fanfic and fanart starting a few years after the attacks is sincere, and how much of it is ironic, and trying to make fun of the very concept of writing fanfiction about 9/11.

A 2007 anime music video (in which various clips, usually from anime, are cut together to music) that combines scenes from The Lion King with Linkin Park’s “Crawling” and clips from George Bush’s speeches immediately after the attacks feels like the perfect example of this. Even the commenters can’t seem to suss out if this person is a troll or not.

There’s no way that My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic 9/11 fanart could be serious, right? Especially if the description pays tribute to “some of the nation's most memorable buildings,” and features five of the main characters as child versions of themselves. The comments again are split between users thanking the artist for a thoughtful remembrance post, and people making their own headcanon for why Twilight Sparkle is surreptitiously absent from the scene.

Screengrab via DeviantArt

There’s Phineas and Ferb fanfic that combines a 9/11 tribute concert with flashbacks to Ferb being rescued from the towers as a baby, written on the 10th anniversary of the attacks. It jumps from introspection to lines like, “‘Quiet Perry the Platypus. I’m trying to listen to these kids singing a 9/11 tribute.’”

The author's notes make it more likely that they meant for this to be a tribute piece, but it doesn’t quite make sense until watching a YouTube dramatic reading of it from 2020, fully embracing the absurdity of it all.

“For me, 9/11 is synonymous with war. It completely changed the course of my life," Dreadnought, the author of a Captain America fanfic Baghdad Waltz that sees Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes fall in love over the course of the war on terror, told Motherboard. "It’s the reason I joined the military, and I developed deep connections with people who would go on to deploy to Afghanistan and Iraq. These very much felt like my generation’s wars, perhaps because people I graduated high school with were the youngest folks eligible to serve at the time.”

Dreadnought told Motherboard that although they didn't deploy, their career has kept 9/11 and the trauma from it in their mind. After seeing that people who fantasize about Steve and Bucky getting together seemed particularly interested in reading fanfiction that related to 9/11, they decided to try their hand at it.

"I had to do something with all of that emotionally, and I’m admittedly a bit emotionally avoidant. So I learned through fic that it’s easier for me to process those feelings and the knowledge of all the awful stuff that can happen in war if I can turn it into something creative," Dreadnought said. "Give the feelings to fake people and then have those fake people give the feelings to readers!"

To Dreadnought, who is a queer man, the experience of researching and writing this was more cathartic than they first expected, especially as a way to navigate feelings about masculinity, military culture, and queer identity. But they said the research they did, which included watching footage of first responders at ground zero, was what helped them finally process the event itself.

"It was like a delayed horror, and it was more powerful than I expected it would be." Dreadnought said. "When I was eighteen, I was pretty emotionally divorced from 9/11; I just knew I wanted to do something about it. So coming back to it in my 30s while writing this fic, it was a very different experience. Even the research for this story ended up being an extraordinarily valuable exercise in cognitively and emotionally processing 9/11 and all of its second and third order effects."

Fanfiction that features 9/11 provides an outlet for people who still grapple with the trauma from that day. But Stitch warns that the dynamics of fandom and how it relates to politics can also create fiction that's less respectful and more grotesque.

"With years of distance between the stories written and the original events of 9/11, there seems to be some sort of cushion for fans who choose to use those events as a catalyst for relationships—and Iraq and Afghanistan for settings," Stitch said. "The cushion allows them room to fictionalize real world events that changed the shape of the world as we know it, but it also insulates them from having to think about what they may be putting into the world."

The tendency of turning these events into settings or backgrounds for mostly white, male characters to fall in love has the unintended effect of displacing the effects that the war on terror has had on the world over. Steve and Bucky might fall in love during the war on terror, but they would also be acting as a part of the American military in a war that has been criticized since it started. Fanfic writers in other fandoms have come under fire for using real world tragedy as settings for fic before. In the aftermath of the 2010 Haiti earthquake Supernatural fanfiction about the actors Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki going to the island to do aid became controversial within the fandom. There have also been fics where characters grapple with the death of George Floyd that is written in a way that displaces the event from the broader cultural context of race in America.

"A Captain America story where Steve Rogers is a 'regular' man who joins the US Army and 'fights for our freedom' post-9/11 is unlikely to deal with the war’s effect on locals who are subject to US military intervention," Stitch said. "It’s unlikely to sit with what Captain America has always meant and what a writer is doing by dropping Steve Rogers into a then-ongoing conflict in any capacity."

After enough time, “never forget” can even morph into “but what if it never happened?” A 19k+ word Star Wars alternate universe fanfic asks this question, wondering what would have unfolded if someone with two lightsabers was on United Flight 93. This fic, part of a larger fanfic series with its own Wikia, considers what would have happened if Earth was a military front in the Clone Wars.

In this version of events, a decorated general who served in the Clone Wars is able to take back control of Flight 93 before it crashes, landing safely and preventing even more tragedy from happening that day. In the end, all of the passengers who made harrowing last calls to their loved ones before perishing in a Pennsylvania field survive thanks to the power of the Force, and are awarded medals of honor by President Bush.

Twenty years after the attacks, it’s painful to think about what would have happened if people got to work 15 minutes later, or missed their trains that morning. There weren’t Jedi masters deployed to save people in real life, but for some of the fanfic writers working today, the world of Star Wars might feel just as removed as the world before September 11, 2001.

Fiction serves as a powerful playground for processing cultural events, especially generational trauma. The act isn't neutral though; a decade's worth of fanfiction that takes place on or around 9/11 shows how our own understanding of a traumatic event can shift with time.

How 9/11 Became Fan Fiction Canon syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

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talkfastromance4 · 5 years ago

Text

The Click-- Calum Hood (soulmate!au)

It’s here! I’ve never written soulmate stuff before so this is probably really different from what you’ve normally read, and it’s different from what I normally write but this really has a part of my heart in it. Inspired by Lang Leav’s wonderful works (the poems up above) and some weird instances I’ve been having.

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: none, no smut whatsoever (I know who am I?)

Son inspiration: Then I saw You by Tatiana Manois and Surrender by Natalie Taylor

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. *copyright is listed at bottom*

• • • •

Two strangers both alike in mind have a book propped open with words inked in of love and heartbreak and other musings. They are alike because they mark their favorite poems by dog ears and highlights with little scrawls of their own thoughts scratched into the margins.

Late night for her, early morning for him as they’re on two different sides of the country, it’s not just miles that separate them, but the day and night. The moon comforts her and is her light as she reads of a love shared between two poets. The sun is his friend and a warm embrace as he delves deeper and deeper into the pages of the same love but tinged with an air of sophisticated provocativeness.

While on their Spotify playlists, the same artists and songs are shared between the two. Music and lyrics, words, and prose, two hearts longing for the same thing.

A love to be written about, a love to be shared, an adventurous love that is unique because it is their own. In both their minds, that kind of love doesn’t seem tangible. To be added to their likeness, they’re both the only single ones amongst their friends and have been for a while.

Calum showered his friends in love, giving his friends small gifts and helping in any way that he could. He was always down for a good time, sharing laughs and making memories. Rose was the same, she enjoyed being with her friends and family.

In the daylight they appeared fine and well put together but going home to an empty house in a lonely bed is where they felt the weight of their ache. Sometimes it kept them both up, reading their poetry books or writing their own. His were songs while hers were just words but the premise was the same, dreaming of love.

She received an opportunity of a lifetime to go to school for her writing. A quiet dream she’d held safe in the privacy of her own mind. It was thrilling yet terrifying moving to a whole new city, the city of angels. Her best friend stayed with her for a week helping her adjust in her new albeit small studio apartment.

It was a steal that was right above a coffee bookshop, a place where she’d also received a job. When she wouldn’t be in school, she’d be working to help pay for rent. While she unpacked and decorated her place, she kept pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

When her classes started, she was up by 4 a.m. because of her nerves and her excitement, it bundled up inside her. She ran through her schedule three times, checked her bag that she had the right textbooks and her small laptop.

She read her favorite poems until it was time for her first class. The owner of the shop already had her coffee made to her liking with a cranberry orange muffin already in a bag.

“Thanks Teresa,” she smiles, taking the goodies.

“Have a great first day! Do you want a picture with your bag?” Teresa is a kind, thirty-something year old woman. She’s living her dream owning a coffee bookshop and has the kindest smile.

“I’m okay, don’t need a reminder I’m starting with kids fresh outta high school.”

“You’re not that much older, twenty-five is still young, Rose,” Teresa smiles. “Enjoy it.”

“Thank you,” she smiles then waves with her pinky.

Her first day of classes is just how she thought they’d be, the awkward introductions that she rehearsed in her head before speaking, going through the itinerary for the semester and then reading a few chapters and taking some notes. Rose loved every minute of it.

During lunch and her breaks, she reread through each itinerary again and bookmarks the pages in her textbook she’ll be needing. In between that, she reads her poetry book and jots down a few of her own thoughts.

Then, the day is done and she starts her four hour shift at the bookshop that would last until closing time at 9:30. Rose quickly discovered that this would be a very easy job because it didn’t get a rush of people for dinner.

Some other students she passed on campus would stop in with a friend and share a cup of coffee or tea. By 7:30 there were only a couple of people scattered about the shop, books, or tablets in front of them as the soft indie music played throughout.

Rose gathers her books into her bag behind the counter before she moves to the bookshelf wall to restock the books left on the small wooden tables. She finds herself humming along to a song she knows when there’s a commotion outside.

The other guests inside turn to look as well through the windows framed in the purple and blue twilight shade to see a couple. They’re the source of the noise as both their voices rise over the other and when he throws his arms in the air that’s when Rose turns back to her task.

Clearly whatever was happening outside was a private moment and Rose couldn’t help but smile at the irony of the saying ‘outside looking in’ while she’s inside but was just looking into their outside debacle. Her mind always thinks of outlandish things like that, she calls it her circle thinking because she can run with the same thought over and over.

It doesn’t make sense to others, but it does to her.

After a few moments, she glanced outside, and the couple was gone. The streetlights had flickered on and she could see stars poking through the darkened sky. She hopes she’ll see the moon upstairs.

After the last guest leaves, she locks the door and sweeps up the shop, wipes down tables and locks the cash drawer in the small vault in the back. She checks that the back door is locked after tossing the garbage out quickly and runs upstairs to her studio apartment. She makes a cup of hot cocoa before bed and reads and writes into her favorite poetry book, her journal next to her.

The hot cocoa made her sleepy and she fell fast asleep with her book atop her chest. She dreamed of someone that held a powerful connection with her, he understood her and made her smile. By morning, the dream slipped away with the stars and she started her new routine over again.

***

Calum’s fingers tap impatiently on the laminate surface of the table as he sat through this meeting. It was mundane but necessary that he be here because the band had decided to take a year off. The world is still in recovery from the pandemic and they agreed collectively to hold off on anything until there was some decent footing again.

He’s been in a bit of a mood since he and Zoe fought a few weeks ago after having dinner. They weren’t exclusive, only seeing each other on occasion and that night she brought up soulmates. She was almost nagging at him that he wasn’t hers and that they were wasting their time when he reminded her, she was the one to call him.

He hasn’t heard from her since.

His mind wandered throughout, thinking of ways he can occupy the next 365 days when he wasn’t writing music. Music is his life; it’s always been a constant and has pulled him through some tough situations and has uplifted him in joyous ones. On the TV stuck to the wall there was a news report scanning at the bottom that the university not too far from his home has the highest enrollment rate.

That piques his interest. He reads the closed caption below the broadcaster as it says open enrollment has become the new norm, welcoming students from all ages to attend. This information strikes a chord within Calum and he’s found what he wants to do with his year off.

When the meeting had finally finished, Calum decided to head over to the university and see if he could still enroll. The semester started only a few weeks ago but with this new window of free time, he’s sure he could catch up.

Enrolling turned out to be easy. He had a meeting with a counselor to discuss what his intentions were and if there was any specific study he wanted to get into. He selected creative writing and psychology, bought his books, got his schedule and he was officially a college student.

The night before his first class, Calum is restless. He tosses. He turns. He stares out the window of his room, the moon winking at him through the small opening of the curtain. Duke is snoring softly to his left and Calum’s mind is racing.

Thoughts tumble over one another, scenarios flash across his mind and then he hears a random melody in his head that sounds too familiar and it helps him drift off to sleep.

***

Calum is racing to get to his first class, he didn’t wake up to his alarm until thirty minutes after the intended time and he blamed it all on a dream. A dream that felt so real he thought the woman in his subconscious was still speaking to him in his ear.

He threw on the first article of clothing his fingers touched, gargled with mouthwash, and shoved a beanie on his head. Regrettably, he didn’t have time to stop for coffee and he hoped there would be some sold on campus somewhere.

Calum just got settled into his seat at the back of the lecture when the Professor stood at the front and began to speak. Thankfully, Calum retrieved notes from the three weeks he missed and read them all weekend, so he picked up easily with what the Professor is talking about.

He smiles to himself, maybe he is cut out for school.

Calum is surprised how drained he feels after his first day. His head is swimming with new knowledge and he’s anxious to get home and get to work. On his walk back to the parking structure where his car is parked, he sees the coffee bookshop he and Zoe fought in front of almost a month ago.

The sign above the bay window reads ‘CBS’ and in smaller print below that it reads ‘coffee bookshop’ and he smiles at the simple cleverness. He remembers Ashton has gone in there a few times and said the coffee is great. Calum makes a promise to himself that he’ll stop there tomorrow morning before class to grab a cup.

His night is spent reading over the homework and answering a few of the discussion questions while Duke sat in his lap. Calum tried writing down the lyrics of the song he heard this morning, but he couldn’t distinguish what they were. To wind down, he had his favorite Michael Faudet book propped on his stomach as he read through each page.

He reads through his own writing; his words transport him to that point in time when the words flowed out of him effortlessly. One poem resonates in his mind as he reads about love being compared to that of a rose and the lilting melody from this morning trickled into his ears again and he instantly relaxed. His mind quieted and his eyelids felt heavy as he replayed the same simple notes over and over.

A beautiful melody without any words.

The loud vibration of his phone woke him up before the actual song did, but he leapt out of bed immediately. The promise of a hot cup of coffee egged him on to take a shower and dress in something nicer than a wrinkled band shirt he had on yesterday.

Traffic wasn’t that bad, and he parked his car on the first level of the structure and he still had forty-five minutes until his first class. Today is shaping up to be the start of a good one and just as he locks his phone so he can open the door of the CBS, he collides with a body.

Books go flying. His phone clutters to the ground and he panics at the fatality that could be evident in the million cracks of his screen. Rushed ‘sorry’s’ are exchanged between him and the stranger as they scramble to gather their things. Their bodies twist away from each other as he shoves his books and pens back into his bag.

When he stands to apologize again, she’s already bustling away, her red scarf blowing behind her in the morning breeze. He sighs then heads inside to examine his phone, but he looks back again to try and get a glimpse of her face. She’s already gone. While they were scrambling to get their belongings, he noted how the smell of coconuts, vanilla, and something else he couldn’t put his finger on, invaded his nostrils. It made him think of the ocean.

He examines his phone to find there isn’t a scratch on it and when he unlocks it there’s a picture of the poem he read last night. Roses. The girl he bumped into smelled of roses.

***

Rose is having an off day. Her alarm didn’t even go off and she put in a generous amount of dry shampoo in her hair but resulted in putting on a hat. She didn’t even have time to get her coffee and muffin from Teresa for she rushed out the front door and collided with some guy.

Without her coffee it was hard for her to focus and when she got called on in class, she had to ask the professor to repeat the question because she didn’t hear it. Then her laptop crashed, and she couldn’t work on an assignment that’s due by Friday.

By the time she made it to CBS, she didn’t want to work her shift. Customers were being needy and rude and all she wanted to do was take a hot shower and read. After eating a quick microwave dinner, Rose took a hot shower then turned on her favorite playlist titled ‘Blue’ for moments like this.

She opens her bag to grab her poetry book, ‘The Universe of Us’ but finds its exact counterpart of Lang Leav; Michael Faudet’s book ‘Cult of Two’ lays on her table.

Did she put that in her bag by mistake?

It was a rough morning so it is possible, but she could have sworn she grabbed the book from her bedside table. Sighing, Rose takes the book to place it back on her shelf then becomes more confused when she sees the same book in her hands, perched snugly on the shelf with her other poetry books.

Rose knows she only has one copy, so where did this one come from and where is her book? She tosses the white paperback onto her bed and empties her whole bag, checking each book twice. How could she have lost it? It’s always buried safely in the bottom of her bag and she didn’t take it out all day except--

Rose gasps. This morning when she was leaving the shop she bumped into a guy and all their belongings went flying. She must have grabbed his book by mistake, and he grabbed hers. Panic sets in, she’s written down some of her innermost thoughts in that book, personal things.

Now this random stranger has her soul in his hands, and she might never see him again. With angry tears in her eyes she crawls into bed while Lewis Capaldi’s voice thrums around her walls. Needing comfort, she opens the strangers’ book then snaps it shut just as fast because there’s handwriting on the pages.

Just like hers.

***

Calum is reading about the red string of fate. After that run in with the girl outside CBS a month ago, he read through her book and became transfixed with those words she wrote down. He knows he shouldn’t have read her thoughts, but once he started, he couldn’t stop. Clearly the poetry captivated her, but her words captivated him.

The red string of fate is a Japanese legend meant to tie soulmates together by their pinkies. No matter the circumstance, the time or place, the two will always find each other. It may stretch and it may tangle but it will never break. He’s never heard of it before now, but he’s become obsessed with the idea of it.

Every morning he’s stopped by CBS to see if he’ll run into her again so he can return her book, but he’s never seen her. His classes are going well and he’s learning so much, his creativity is overflowing. Much of that is because of this girl’s book.

Its spine is overly creased from endless love of reading, some words are highlighted and circled. Pages are dog eared on what he assumes are her favorite poems. Calum smiled the first time he paged through it all because he’s written in his book as well. He wonders if she’s read any of his musings yet.

“Bro, I haven’t seen you without that book. Where’s yours?” Ashton asks while they’re out for lunch.

“Um, I lost it actually. I bumped into this girl outside the CBS and our things scattered everywhere. We switched books,” Calum explains flipping the pages. “She writes it in like I do.”

“You read it? Mate,” Ashton sighs exasperatedly, “that’s an invasion of privacy.”

“I know, I know! But I can’t get enough of it. She’s smart and passionate in what she writes. I wish I got a better look at her when I bumped into her so I could return it.”

“There’s no name inside?”

“Nope. She could be in one of my classes for all I know,” Calum sighs then picks away at the corner of the cover. “What was it like when you and Ruby found each other?”

Ruby is Ashton’s soulmate and they’ve been together for almost two years now. Calum remembers the change in Ashton when she came into his life, he was lighter.

“I heard her voice in my head.”

“What did she say?”

Ashton smiles, “My name.”

“Then how did you find her?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain,” Ashton’s brows crease. “It was only a few days after I heard her voice that I knew her name. It came to me out of the blue. Do you remember anything about her?”

“She had on this red scarf and smelled like a rose.” Calum suddenly felt a wave of dizziness swim in his head and he held onto his temples.

“You okay?” Ashton reaches over as if to help but he’s not sure what’s happening to his friend.

“Woah, that was weird, I got super dizzy,” Calum says blinking a few times until he can see straight again. He removes his fingers from his temples and Ashton is giving him a funny look. “What?”

“What did she smell like again?” he leans forward.

“A rose, why--fuck!” the wave of dizziness crashes into him again and it’s like his brain is spinning in his head. When his vision returns Ashton is smiling gleefully. “Glad to see you enjoy my pain.”

“Don’t you see?! You got vertigo as soon as you said rose. That must be her name.”

“Really? Is that what happened when you said Ruby’s name?”

“Yeah basically, but it wasn’t this strong. She must be close,” Ashton looks around him as if she’ll appear out of thin air. “I suggest going to CBS morning and night, she’s gotta be there at some point.”

***

Rose is flicking through the pages of the new poetry book she acquired. Curiosity killed the cat and she just had to dig her claws between the pages because she’s sure he’s already done the same or will soon enough.

Some of his thoughts left her breathless and with an odd familiar feeling at the way it’s structured. Some of his sentences seem more like lyrics that she’s heard before but can never find the tune that goes with it.

She hadn’t been feeling well this morning, nausea and dizziness made her skip her classes and she laid in bed all day. It would come and go throughout the day and right before bed she drew herself a bubble bath with some candles. The flickering light created the perfect ambience while she read Faudet’s words and the mysterious stranger.

Where her notes are written in paragraphs or stanzas, his are scattered about the page. Sometimes she has to turn the book to read it upside down. The curse words make her laugh and sometimes there’s a fun little drawing.

It isn’t until she reaches the last few pages and she’s reading about a blue angel and knocking back a shot when she stumbles on a name that is not the author. It’s a name she’s heard before, a name she’s known of and has seen floating around her social media.

“Calum Hood,” she mumbles, and she instantly becomes dizzy again. It happens so fast it startles her, and she nearly drops the book into the bubbles. Somehow in her bewilderment she managed to let it flop onto the bathroom floor.

The bathwater and bubbles slosh over the sides as she reaches for the book again. Did she read that right? Her fingers leave dark, pudgy circles on the pages as she goes to that page again.

“Calum,” she breathes, and the room spins again causing her to drop the book once more. “Okay, okay, okay, okay. . .”

Rose gets out of the bath quickly, letting the water drain noisily as she dries off and puts on her pajamas. The spinning has stopped, and she sits cross legged in the middle of her bed, the poetry book open to the poem and her phone opened to Instagram and Twitter.

She’s been an avid fan for quite a few years now and to think if he was the one, she bumped into? With her thumbs hovering over the keyboard she closes her eyes trying to remember anything about him from that morning.

All she can remember is the rush to gather her things and his soft husky voice as he said sorry. She didn’t look at him once and it’s very possible she bumped into Calum Hood. Her mind racing, she texts every one of her friends that have already found their soulmates asking what and how it happened.

She needs answers because how odd is it that she’s felt dizzy and nauseous all day then sees his name, says it, and gets dizzy all over again? Is that what’s supposed to happen? Does this mean he’s been saying her name all this time as well?

Her friends' responses were pretty much the same. In each instance they heard his or her voice in their head say their name. Why hadn’t she heard his voice? Could he hear hers? Rose unlocks her phone and searches his name, turns out he’s gone back to school. The same school she’s attending but it doesn’t say what he’s studying, which is good because it must be annoying having everyone know what’s going on in your life.

Rose falls back onto her pillows burrowing under the covers and shuts off the light.

“Please let me go to school tomorrow, Calum,” she huffs then turns over to hug her pillow.

She swears she hears a ghostly laugh in her ear before sleep consumes her.

***

“I bite back.”

Calum still hears the soft voice from his dream, he can still feel the soft brush of her lips against his ear as she said those words. He’s staring up at the ceiling replaying the dream of sitting next to a girl. In his subconscious it felt like he already knew her, and they carried a conversation well. He doesn’t remember exactly what he was saying but he can hear those three words as if she were laying right next to him.

He greets Duke with quick kisses before letting him outside and Calum washes his face, brushes his teeth, and gets dressed. After he brings Duke in, Calum gathers his bags making sure The Universe of Us is right at the top.

He’s been going to CBS early each morning so he can sit and try to watch for the girl he bumped into. He has one cup of coffee and reads through her pages until it’s time to go for class. A few times he thought he recognized her, but the girl in question always turned out to be just a fan and wanted a quick chat and photo.

They never smelled like roses, so he knew it wasn’t her.

After his final sip of coffee, he flips to a page with the title ‘The One’ and he immediately goes to the girl’s handwritten words.

‘And I want you to be the one for me. The one who brings out my storm but also calms the waves. I want you to be my perfect counterpart. Is my red string frayed?’

Calum smiles at the last sentence. He wishes he could tell her that no, it isn’t frayed and he’s trying his damndest to find her. He gathers his things and heads out the door because his first class is starting in fifteen minutes.

Just as he walked out the door, if he would have waited one more minute, Rose came by his table and cleaned up his dishes to help Teresa out before she went on her way to class.

“How are you feeling today Rose?” Teresa asks, taking the dirty dishes from her.

“A little better,” Rose shrugs, “I can’t miss two days. Are you sure it’s alright I can switch my shift from tonight to tomorrow?”

“Of course. You need to catch up on what you missed, Colbie will cover for you. Take it easy, you still look a little pale,” Teresa frowns.

“I’ll be fine, but thank you,” Rose smiles then waves. “I’ll see you later.”

***

The day runs as normal for them both. Calum has felt this growing energy within him as if something is about to happen, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. He’s been looking at every woman he passes waiting to see if there’s a connection or a siren that will go off as if to say “that’s her! That’s her!” but he comes up short.

Rose still feels a little queasy throughout the day and she’s distracted because all she wants to do is read Calum’s poetry book to try and find another connection.

When the school day is over, she sets up her workspace at her favorite table by the bookshelf in a large, plush chair. Her own latte sits next to her while she quickly does her homework and opens the book. From the corner of her eye a tall figure sits in the chair on the other side of the table. She pays it no mind until there’s a loud crash.

The stranger knocked her cup to the floor, and it shattered, white foam and coffee filling up the grooves in the tile.

“Shit, I’m sorry--”

“It’s okay,” she says automatically.

They both reach for the largest fragment of broken cup; their pinkies touch and Rose feels something click inside her. Her skin is hot where he touches her, and with her heart pounding like a thousand horses running, she looks up.

He knew who she was before he looked into her eyes, when they came in such proximity, he smelled the roses and the coconut and the vanilla. When their pinkies touched, he felt a spark shoot up his veins, that’s the siren he’s been waiting for and when he looked into her eyes? Everything clicked into place.

“Rose?”

“Calum?”

They both laugh nervously, their pinkies still touching. Rose feels her cheeks warm and Calum can’t stop smiling at her. After their small moment, they clean up the mess of the broken cup and sit back in their respective chairs.

“I think this is yours,” she holds out his book that she was currently reading.

“And I believe--” he pulls out her book from his bag holding it up “--this is yours.”

Having it in her possession again makes it feel like a lost limb has been returned home. Calum flips through his own book noticing the wrinkled pages. He knows she read it and he’s so glad she’s the one who did. He watches her rifle through the pages, soft fingers tracing over words that have been printed and words she’s inked in herself.

“You’re a wonderful writer,” he comments, and her eyes flash up to him.

“You are too, but you’re a musician so that’s no surprise,” she giggles, and Calum loves the sound.

Talking comes easily between Calum and Rose, but how could it not when they’re soulmates? As the night gets longer and the shop is about to close, Rose invites him up for some tea and he gladly accepts.

While she’s setting up the kettle, he examines her bookshelf, some books he’s read, and others grab his attention that he wants to ask her about. Soft music fills the room and he smiles because this is on one of his playlists as well.

“How do you like your tea?” she asks, and Calum moves back to the kitchen area.

“Little bit of milk and honey and some sugar,” he smiles, watching her add the ingredients.

Their fingers brush again when he accepts the cup from her, another spark ignites but it starts a different type of warmth. Calum becomes very aware of both their actions. He’s aware of how close she sits next to him on the couch, he’s aware of the way she licks her lips and how badly he wants to kiss them.

“So, this is . . . a little crazy, right?” she laughs awkwardly, her finger circling the rim of the mug. “How did you find me? Did you hear my voice? Because I didn’t hear yours.”

“What did you experience then?” he asks, setting his mug on the small table in front of them.

“I was home for a whole day because I just felt really dizzy and nauseous, then when I was taking a bath and reading your book, I saw your name, said it out loud and had another dizzy spell. I think I dreamed of you, too. . .” her brows furrowed in confusion.

Calum tries not to let her small tidbit of information that she was in the bath when she said his name get to him, but he knows exactly what she’s talking about. He was at home playing with Duke when he felt another wave of dizziness hit, it came upon him so fast that he practically fell onto the couch. It felt different then when he said her name, it was stronger.

“I’m sorry, when I discovered your name, I kept saying it,” he admits fiddling with one of his rings.

“How’d you find out my name?”

“I was talking with my friend, Ashton and I told him about the day we collided and how you smelled like a rose. You know what’s funny? When we said each other’s name downstairs I didn’t feel dizzy, did you?”

“No, I didn’t,” she shakes her head then looks at him, “what does that mean?”

“I--” he stops short when the song shifts, and he gasps. “I’ve had this melody stuck in my head for weeks, is this you singing?”

“Absolutely not,” Rose laughs and rises from the couch to turn it up on her phone. “It calms me down, so I play it a lot. What was--oh!”

She spun around and Calum was standing right in front of her. She didn’t realize how tall he is until right now and the scent of his cologne and laundry detergent reminds her of a home she’s come back to.

“I have an idea as to why we didn’t hear each other’s voices,” he says, stepping even closer.

“What’s that?” Rose licks her lips.

“We feel things, and instead of vocalizing them, we write them down or listen to it in music,” he tucks her hair behind her ear. “Even the books we read the authors are in love.”

Rose chuckles at that. “Yeah, what are the odds they’re our favorites?”

“Pretty high, since we were made for each other,” he smiles. His fingers tickle her cheek as he tilts her head up, her eyes are shining, and the smell of roses invades his senses. He inches his mouth closer to hers, “I’m ready to surrender to this, Rose.”

She nods and closes the small space between their lips and it’s as if everything stops. The only thing she can feel are his soft, warm lips on hers, the calluses of his fingers on her cheek and the way his other hand wraps around her waist. He pulls her close and she grabs hold of his shirt, kissing him is like a breath of fresh air.

He pulls her even closer, chest against chest and she gasps at the movement but welcomes his tongue excitedly. They kiss feverishly, as if this is the only time they have. But they have many more days and many more moments to make memories of.

They’re breathing heavily when they break the kiss, she feels him smile against her lips and gives her two soft pecks.

“Calum?”

“Hmm?” his thumb strokes her cheek affectionately.

“You made my world stop spinning.”

• • • •

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #327

starting to run outta steam... haha.

What design is on your shower curtain? It doesn't have one. Did you get in trouble for cussing on accident when you were a kid? Ha ha yeah, for yelling "HOLY SHIT!" once, lmao. Ever made a snow angel? Yeah. Do you laugh at racial jokes? Absolutley not. What’s the highest you can count in a different language? 999, in German. How’s your flirting skills? I wouldn't know, ask those I've flirted with. Have you ever cried over a breakup? For a whole year and then some. I still have episodes. What does your dream life look like? Living isolated in the woods by a river and waterfall with a fantastic spouse, me being a very successful photographer and at least somewhat above *just* financially "stable," maybe having at least one poem published, lots of pets (mostly snakes), plenty of travel opportunities (mostly for photography), being free of my social anxiety and actually being reasonably confident, back in great physical shape... I'm really daydreaming now. What’s something you wish would happen, but know won’t? bleh Where did you meet your current or last significant other? YouTube, back when it was a much more social platform. Do you enjoy wine? No, it's way too bitter. What did you last ask your parents permission for? I asked Mom if I could snack on some chocolate chips she was saving for fudge (since Christmastime...). She was fine with it. Periods are fun. Do you get annoyed when you hear babies crying? I shouldn't, but I do. Me and babies just don't mix. Why were you in a waiting room the last time? I was at a doctor's appointment. What’s your lawyer’s name? I don’t have one. Do you own a lot of scarves? I don't think I own any... Would you ever get a face tattoo? I doubt it, but maybe something very small and subtle. Are your expecting anything in the mail? No. What would you like to see out of your window everyday instead of what you see now? Nature. The woods. Would you rather have a house exterior made from wood, brick, or stucco? Aesthetically, wood, but I don't support the continuation of wood housing in a society where we have many other options that don't harm the environment as much. So, realistically, brick. What is your favorite breakfast? Cinnamon rolls. Do you own a diamond ring? No. Have you ever stripped? No. Do you remember the last movie you saw while on a date? IT with Girt. Whose house did you last sleep over at? Sara's. Yes or no: foreplay? Lmao who the fuck does it w/o foreplay first. Would you ever record you having sex? No fucking way. Something nobody’d ever guess about you? I used to be in great shape. Would you like to be a journalist? I actually wouldn't mind it. It was almost my minor the last time I was in college, actually, but the required courses were a no-no for me. Last year for school, we had an assignment where we had to choose a popular song to write a story based on. What song would you’ve picked? I don't know popular songs, so I'm picking any song. Off the top of my head, given my love for dark and morbid shit, maybe "Voyeur" by Otep. That song is messed up as fuck. No, it's actually not about sex, 'cuz I ain't interested in writing about that. Did the vacuum scare you as a child? I don't think it did. Do you have a long driveway? No, it's actually very short. Have you ever begged someone to stay with you? Oh yes. Are you friends with anyone missing one of their five senses? Not to my knowledge. Are you good at Pac Man? I'm no better than anyone else. Do you have an embarrassing period story? If so, what is it? No. Have you ever gotten high off a prescription medication? No. Do you prefer tampons or pads? Tampons. Pads are mega uncomf. How old were you when your parents talked to you about puberty? I don't know, actually. What stereotype do you fit the most? Geek, maybe? Emo? Idk. If you’re a worshipper, how do you worship? I don't worship anything. What’s your favorite pain reliever? Advil. Do you have a lot of people blocked on Facebook? Not a lot, no. Does your father have facial hair? Yes. Have you ever had a hamster? Yeah, we went through a few. All of 'em were evil. Grape or strawberry jelly? Absolutely grape. What language would you most like to know fluently? German. Do you remember the last song you slow danced to? "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin. Do you plan on having alcohol at your wedding? I don't know. Do you have an idea of who you might kiss next? I know who I WANT to kiss next, but that doesn't mean it'll happen. I hate psychic questions. Who’s the most controlling person you know? She's not in my life anymore. Do you own a microphone? No. Do you enjoy trailers at the cinema? I do. Name a pet you definitely wouldn’t want. A centipede, to name one. I've gotten more into the idea of owning invertebrates, and centipedes are in that hobby, but they creep me the fuck out. They're cool to watch, but I don't want one in my house. Do you have a picture of you throwing up the peace sign? Yeah, it's actually one of my favorite pictures of me without makeup. Has a very "me" vibe. Do you enjoy romantic movies, even when they’re cliche? Ha, yeah. Can you tell the difference between a Scottish and an Irish accent? Nope. Can you read music? Probably not anymore. Ever sang someone to sleep? No. What is the movie that you have waited the longest for/which film do you remember anticipating the most/are still anticipating? Finding Dory takes the cake. What is something that an interested guy/girl could comment about you, that would make you instantly open to them (e.g., “That book you’re reading is from my favorite author”)? If you compliment my Markiplier tattoo because you get it, we are immediately family. Out of all your usernames for websites, which one is your favorite? Do you use it for more than one site? Ozzkat. I use it essentially everywhere. Have you ever spent the whole day (or multiple days) just looking up one thing on the internet (e.g., videos of your favorite band, how-to videos, quizzes, etc.)? HA, way more than once. Hyperfixation is a friend of mine. Bow ties on guys, dorky or adorable? C U T E ! ! ! What are your thoughts on mini-skirts or mini-dresses? ALSO C U T E ! ! ! Have you ever died in one of your dreams? Yes. What appliance in your kitchen do you use the most often? The microwave. Do you use Skype to talk to your friends? Sara, yes. And Sam once in a blue moon if we're playing WoW together. Are you allergic to any animals? No. Have you ever had to go to the police department? No. Have you ever been called bipolar? Well yes, because I am. Have you ever made fun of a handicapped person? Hell no, and fuck you if you ever have. If a necklace/ring gives you green marks, do you still wear it? No. Have you ever had food poisoning? I don't think so, no. Favorite emoticon? Probably c: Do any emoticons annoy you? No, but an excessive amount of them I find disruptive to whatever I'm reading. Do you think there will be a WWIII? Yup, someday. Has anyone ever asked you if you were emo? Yeah, back in high school. The most interesting thing that’s ever happened to you at a grocery store? I dunno. Probably running into someone unexpected. Do you have any good book ideas? Having written RP since I was 10 years old... I could by now write a dozen dictionary-sized novels encompassing what I think are the greatest storylines. I genuinely do believe there's some fantastic stuff we've got, but there's just too many horribly dark and twisted parts in the evil mobs that I am not comfortable publishing. Are you gonna see Cars 2? Well, this is old. I never even saw the first one. In all honesty, can a person be too nice? Yep. *points at Weed from GDW* Have you ever posted a video onto YouTube? Yeah, mostly "meerkat music videos," I guess you could say. Some tributes to certain MM characters, others just music with meerkat clips. How often do you compliment other people? I try to any time I have a sincere one. I am very much for complimenting people openly and often. The Legend of Zelda series: Twilight Princess or Ocarina of Time? I'm not a fan of the franchise, honestly. Never got the hype. Do you even game at all? Most certainly, but not nearly as much as I used to... You can only replay old games but so many times before you just can't anymore. And the "newest" console I have is the original Wii, so... I definitely don't have the modern equipment. Would you give Zumba dance lessons a try if presented the opportunity? Probably not. Definitely not while my legs are in such bad shape; the dancing is pretty intense and would seriously hurt. I could easily imagine myself fainting. Do you own a rosary? No, but I did in my Catholic-raised childhood. Do you like Adult Swim? No. Sorry excuses for humor everywhere. What’s the first thing you do when you get on the computer? Do a quick check on KM just to ensure everything's in order. What’s one thing that you just wish you could do all of your life? Not have to pay bills, haha. If someone asks for your honest opinion, do you give it? Yes, if they emphasize they really want honesty. When was the last time you felt uninformed or out of the loop? Apparently some politician (I think) died recently and people practically rejoiced on Facebook. I knew zip about him. When in a car, where do you like to sit? Passenger seat/shotgun. Have you ever fought with a good friend over something completely stupid? Oh, absolutely. There have been plenty of RP-related arguments with multiple people... In the big picture, it's laughable to fight over a game, but when you're so invested in your own creations, in the moment, it can seem like a big issue. Those drama days are long behind me now. Would you ever visit a third-world country? I don't think so, no. It would shatter my heart, especially seeing children in poverty. Are you the type that’s too ashamed to ask for or use directions? No. You overhear two people gossiping about you; what do you do? Probably call over something like, "I'm not deaf, you know." I highly doubt I'd sit there with my mouth shut. Have you ever felt manipulated? Yes. If you were homeless, how would you cope? If I was truly, entirely homeless, quite honestly, I'm almost positive I'd kill myself. Have you ever done something just to fit in? Yeah. When was the last time you tried to impress someone, for whatever reason? I'm not sure, but I've certainly done it at one point or another. Do you think that the world could function in a state of anarchy? Definitely not. How well do you know your U.S. [or your country’s] history? I mean, I know the bare bones of it, but I'm far from well-versed in history. It was one of my weak subjects in school. Would you ever wish to move to another country? I'm not kidding when I say if it weren't for family, I would probably move to Canada. What is something that you do that others might consider “nerdy”? The way I write, particularly for academic purposes. I'm very descriptive and have an exceptionally large vocabulary. Have you ever had anything expensive stolen from you? Not from me specifically, but our basketball hoop was stolen from my childhood home. I doubt it was very cheap. Do you understand/notice when someone’s using sarcasm? Usually, anyway. When was the last time you were fooled? HAHA there was this drama video suggested to me on YouTube that involved Mark in the title, and I was mega confused and inevitably clicked. Now it's basically a YouTube meme just how "perfect" Mark is, so there was no real drama; apparently some newer fans are just upset at him for playing the sequel to HuniePop, a very sexual puzzle/dating game that's honestly entertaining and can be really funny. Like... he's played the original and despite the discomfort of some scenes (which are censored, mind you), he still had fun, and it was a big hit on his channel. So him playing the sequel isn't surprising, but apparently some people got shit to say. What first Impression do you hope you make with other people? Something along the lines of "wow, she's very nice." Have you ever thought about how you make other people feel/think? Well of course. I think everyone should take time to consider this. What is your stance on getting revenge? A petty waste of time. Any wise/truthful/witty quotes that you live by? Ha, another Mark answer. He once gave the casual innuendo of, "Life's hard; shouldn't you be, too?" (this might have actually been in a HuniePop video!), but when you take the... uh... sexual theme out of it, it's a good way to look at life???? Have tough skin, unmoving willpower, y'know, that stuff. Who was the last person you sat beside at a restaurant? My sister Ashley. Spongebob or Patrick? Patrick is a whole-ass mood. Would you rather watch little kid’s cartoons, older kid’s cartoons, or adult cartoons? Hm. Probably little kid's, given my love for Pokemon. How about watching regular cartoons or anime? Anime. Who is the last person you spent money on? Myself. Do you own a copy of Roller Coaster Tycoon? No; I had SeaWold Tycoon instead. I loved that game. Do you have any birth marks in embarrassing places? No. Have you used Limewire before? Of course. Free music for the low price of a catastrophic virus. :^) When was the last time you required a band-aid? I think when I cut one of my toenails way too short. Are you afraid of snakes? Oh no! I adore them so, so very much. Not saying I'm gonna go scoop up the first copperhead I find herping or something, but I love and respect them so very much. They are such fascinating animals. If you believe in reincarnation, what animal would you want to become? I don't think I believe in reincarnation, but hypothetically, maybe a lioness. Who do you tell everything to? Pretty much whoever reads these surveys, haha. Did you have candles on your birthday cake? Not my most recent one. Exactly, how old are you? I just turned 25 years and one month old. Have you ever been bitten by anything? Besides bugs, I don't think so. I've had cats and dogs playfight with me, but none have ever seriously bitten me with actual effort. Do you wear hats? No. What was the last song you sang along to? "Lunchbox" by Marilyn Manson. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years time? I'd like to be, but idk if it's realistic.

#survey #surveys #questions

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forthegothicheroine · 5 years ago

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10 Best Books I Read in 2019

These are not all new books, just the ones I got around to! And they certainly weren’t the only good books I read- narrowing these down to ten was a hard job. But here they are, in reverse order I read them...

Lent by Jo Walton

Gioralmo Savonarola- he of the Bonfire of the Vanities- is doing his best to be a good man, but endlessly reliving the end of his life is making that a complicated question. To tell too much more would spoil things, but Richard the III and the Borgias are there, matters of redemption are discussed, questions of religion and the afterlife are meditated upon, and Jo Walton is, as ever, one of the smartest writers working in speculative fiction.

The Annotated Alice by Lewis Carroll

No matter how much I tried, I never managed to get into Alice as a child. That all changed with the annotated edition. Showing me the specific poems and literature that Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There were parodying turned the books from an incomprehensible, vaguely upsetting nightmare to a hilarious picaresque about the world’s most unflappable heroine.

The Ballad of Sir Dinadan and The Princess, The Crone and the Dung Cart Knight by Gerald Morris

The best two entries in The Squire’s Tales Series. (Read from the beginning if you want to follow Terrance’s arc, but you can skip ahead to these two if you want to read the best ones, they’re relatively standalone.) One is about the trials and tribulations of Sir Dinadan as he’s dragged unwillingly into adventure by Tristram, Culwch and Palomides, while the other is about a little girl who wants her own revenge on Malegaunt helping Lancelot rescue Guinevere. Both are funny and sad and just lovely.

The Idylls of the Queen by Phyllis Ann Karr

This was the year of King Arthur books for me! This one is a murder mystery with Kay trying to exonerate Guinevere from having orchestrated a senseless poisoning. Along the way he also has to solve the mystery of who killed Morgause, and keep the Orkney brothers from literally killing each other. Any book where Sir Kay gives a Poirot Summation is a good one!

We Sold Our Souls by Grady Hendrix

Grady Hendrix is the man. He gave me evil Ikea, a tour through kickass paperbacks, Fire Walk With Me with a happy ending, and now an epic power metal album in the form of a novel. What happens when a metal group sells out in the most literal sense? Their one remaining hardcore member must fight her way back into the spotlight to save the entire audience from having their souls taken by demons, that’s what.

Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik

I am right there from the start for a fantasy novel with a practicing Jewish heroine, and throw in heroine/villain relationships, Imperial Russia, fairytale reworkings and abduction by the fae? Hell yeah. But seriously, this is really good, the best fantasy book in years, and I want as many people to read it as possible. Thanks for AO3 too, Novik!

Tales from Outer Suburbia by Shaun Tan

This graphic novel/picture book is sweet. That’s the overwhelming word I’d use to describe it, sweet. Sometimes scary, sometimes sad, but at its best amid melancholy sweetness. It’s just so beautiful, it’s hard to describe except to say it’s a series of short, usually magical-realist stories that take place in a sort of Twilight Zone of suburbia. My favorite is the one about a very small exchange student.

Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata

A neurodivergent woman doesn’t see the point in settling down and getting married, or even doing much of anything besides devoting herself to a job she’s “too old” for. Still, she wants her mother to stop worrying, and so embarks on a quest to become normal. This is a small but powerful novel, especially if you’ve ever been to a neat little Japanese convenience store, and while I don’t share the heroine’s exact psychology, I could feel it on every page. Some reviewers seem to find her disturbing or a freak- I didn’t at all.

Hell's Princess: The Mystery of Belle Gunness, Butcher of Men by Harold Schechter

What happened to Belle Gunness’s head??? Was that even her??? As a true crime fan, old timey murders are my favorite, and boy is this one a doozy. I gaped in disbelief at the crimes of this mercenary serial killer, wondering if anyone would ever stop her. You’ll have to read it yourself to find out. (The Stranger Beside Me by Ann Rule almost took this spot on the list, by the way.)

The Winter Prince by Elizabeth Wein

Another King Arthur book- more precisely, a Mordred book. I was never the most sympathetic fan of the character, but this book absolutely broke my heart and then put it back together piece by piece. Major trigger warnings for abuse come with this one, but if you can take it and you’re even vaguely interested in the mythology, give it a read. It will change how you see the characters forever.

#books

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beaufortswan42 · 4 years ago

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The Forks P.1

This is my first ever fan fic for twilight Life and Death Reimagined. It was a really random idea that popped into my head 😅 I had a lot of fun writing this so here goes nothing, enjoy!

“Oh no, no no. There’s no way in hell im going to go up on that stage in front of the whole school. I’d rather scrape gum off every desk for the rest of the year.” I loudly exclaimed as I stood outside of my bio class.

“Oh come on beau! We really need you. You’re the only person I know who can sing those high notes. I wouldn’t be asking if we didn’t need you. ” McKayla stated in a loud whisper, gazing at me with pleading eyes.

The school talent show was this Friday and McKayla’s band needed a lead singer fast. Justin Salinger, the band’s lead singer, came down with mono. Thanks a lot ski trip from last Friday.

“Sorry McKayla I can’t do it. I already get sick and nervous from going up to the black board. If I perform in front of the school, the entire front row is going to be covered in vomit.” I shuddered at the idea of going up there and making a fool of myself. I’ve never been a performer and I don’t know how I could convince anyone that I am. Yes I took singing lessons as a kid and I could hit a few notes here and there but by no means was I made to sing. I also don’t want Edythe Cullen and her ridiculously good looking siblings to be there. They would think of me as a loser, more than I already am. If there’s any day that she could be absent I hope it would be this Friday.

McKayla must’ve noticed how nervous I got because she moved a few inches closer to me and not so subtlety placed her hand on my bicep as a way to “comfort” me. She looked up at me, turned on her puppy dog eyes, and fluttered her eyelashes. Her level of flirting dangerously increased over the last few weeks when she felt that Edythe Cullen was no longer a “rival”. As she tightened her grip on my bicep, from the corner of my eye, I noticed a perfect looking person gracefully sashaying my way. Edythe Cullen is the most beautiful and interesting girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her bronze hair was perfectly wavy today. Her purple turtleneck hung on her body so comfortably. Her pale face looked impeccable as always, her golden irises glimmered in the light. I felt a strong-intense-magnetic pull as she passed by me to go into class.

“Earth to beau....helloooooo, it’s me your bestieeee.” McKayla said while she waved her hands in front of my face. I didn’t realize I had turned my head when I was admiring the subject of my every night dreams.

“Huh? Oh sorry, umm, yeah I don’t think I can...what if i mess up the lyrics or freeze on stage?” I quietly whispered to her as I walked in class and sat down at my seat next to Edythe. Mrs. Banner was not in class yet which gave McKayla the green light to sit at the edge of our table.

“I promise that won’t happen beau. We’re going to work really hard to get this right. I’ll do anything beau...Uhhh, I’ll write your term paper for English class. Or I’ll wash your car! Ummm, oooo! I can even convince my dad to give you a raise. Anything...but please, we need you.” McKayla desperately pleaded as she pushed back the small hairs that fell in front of my forehead. Her fingers lingered there for what seemed like forever till she thankfully removed her hand.

I turned towards the black board frightened at the thought of performing in front of hundreds of people. I can’t do this, I don’t like attention. The very thought of attention makes my skin turn red, I get cold to the point where my teeth chatter. My legs wobble and sweat drips from my forehead. In other words, I’m a hopeless nervous introvert who would rather hide under a rock than to expose myself to people. I remembered the time I threw up in front of my whole class in elementary school when I was asked to read my poem about dinosaurs. The poem was great, I wasn’t. The thought of going up in front of an even bigger audience was making me shiver of nerves and anxiety already. I shook myself from the daydream and casually glanced to my left without really thinking. I noticed that Edythe had tilted her head in my direction. Huh, weird. Was she listening to what I would say? Did she care or was it all in my head? Was she hoping I’d say no? Or was she dare I say...jealous? No, that’s ridiculous I thought. It’s been a few weeks since I last spoke to her. She had told me she didn’t think we should be friends. It was so egotistical of me to think that Edythe Cullen would even spend five minutes of her day thinking of someone boring like me. Edythe was a queen among her ordinary subjects. There was no way she thought of me like that. I still think she regrets saving me from being crushed by Taylor’s van. That’s why she didn’t want to be friends with me, she’s way out of my league and she knows it. I can’t say I blame her. It wouldn’t make sense. She is a hard 10, I’m just 4, maybe even less. For someone like her to even have the slightest interest in me would be enough to tip the balance in the world and create utter chaos. I brought myself back to the primary issue at hand. I had to decide if I would help my friend or not. It might not be so bad...maybe you’ll enjoy it or it could even get canceled, I thought to myself. I hate public speaking and putting myself out there with a passion. But my friend needed my help and I’m sure she wouldn’t ask me to do it if she didn’t have another choice. As much as I hated this, I finally made a choice. A choice that I know I will regret as soon as I walk out of here.

“Ok! ok ok fine McKayla...I know I shouldn’t do this but you win...I’ll perform the song with your band on Friday.” I begrudgingly mumbled to her already regretting my decision.

McKayla’s eyes widened with happiness and excitement, “REALLY?! OMG that’s awesome! Thank you, thank you, thank you so much beau! You’re a lifesaver! You won’t regret it! Ahhh! I’m so excited...we’re going to make beautiful music together.” I couldn’t help but notice the look of satisfaction on McKayla’s face as she smirked towards Edythe’s direction. Edythe didn’t look like she was paying attention but her hands were rolled up into a tight fist. Huh, maybe she’s in pain or something? I tried to look at her face but nothing indicated she would be in pain, in fact she looked a bit angry. Maybe she forgot her homework? I don’t know.

“Uh yayyy, sure...I definitely can’t wait” I tried to match McKayla’s level of enthusiasm but I obviously failed.

“Ok cool! So it’s a date then! Oh wait no, that’s not what I meant...ummm I meant to say-“

“Alright class please go to your seats and we’ll get started” Mrs. banner said as she wrote something about chromosomes on the board. McKayla quickly ran back to her seat next to some dude with a bowl cut. How did I get myself into this? I mentally groaned. It’s all jeremy’s fault. He heard me singing in the locker room and felt the need to brag to everyone that I could freakin sing like some rock god or something. I could feel my stomach drop as I pictured myself on stage singing. I hope the world swallows me whole. Why did she have to save me from that van? May the angel of death take me, I am ready to die.

Without thinking I turned to my left and met her gaze. Edythe’s golden orbs were like daggers staring into my soul. She seemed angry, upset, maybe even...jealous? My heart started racing as I quickly looked away and tried to focus on mrs. Banner’s lecture. I could still feel her look of anger on me. I groaned and put my head down on my desk. Why was she even mad? She didn’t want to be friends...she didn’t even speak to me. I didn’t do anything to her...I think. She never even gave me an explanation of how she saved me from the van. I decided to steal a quick glance at the angry model next to me and relaxed when her gaze was no longer on me. I quickly remembered my commitment for Friday. How do I get out of this mess? Maybe I should visit Justin Salinger and get mono too. I mentally yelled at myself for accepting McKayla’s offer. All I know is that this Friday is going to be a day I’ll never forget.

#life and death #twilight #twilight reimagined #archie cullen #beau swan #edythe cullen #eleanor cullen #jessamine hale #royal hale #beau x edythe #for fun #forks #mckayla newton #twilight fanfiction

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mysticsparklewings · 5 years ago

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NaPoWriMo Day 12: Triolet‪

welcome to the hotel check in, not out it'll be just swell! welcome to the hotel who said it was fatal? try not to shout welcome to the hotel check in, not out

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Once again, I magically forgot what day it was while constructing the poem, (much like with Gerard Way's birthday on the 9th) and so today's probably seems very tone-deaf. That said, Happy Easter/Bunny Day!

Anyway. This prompt, per the title, was to use the form of a triolet. A triolet--in my own words because if you're anything like me some of the other resources out there will very much just confuse you more with talk of ABa's and examples that don't seem to follow a rhyme scheme at all despite the rhyme scheme being important here --Is constructed of 8 lines, usually each with the same length/meter (number of syllables and/or stressed syllables, as far as I can tell, that's not the part I was terribly concerned about) And those lines proceed as follows:

• starts with two non-rhyming but related lines

• the third line rhymes with the first

• the fourth line repeats the first,

• the fifth line rhymes (or in my case, near-rhymes) with the first

• the sixth line rhymes with the second line

• the seventh line repeats the first

• the eighth line repeats the second

I don't know if I'm just thick as mince or something, but I was horribly confused by the "example" of the rhyme scheme being written as ABaAabAB. And the examples given by the website that napowrimo.net linked to explain a triolet...I don't know who or how those poems got classified as triolets, but as I alluded to earlier, of the three, when I read them, none of them seemed to follow proper triolet rhyming at all...Or, perhaps they did it in such a way I couldn't tell? Whatever the case, all that had me thinking at first that I had been right to be suspicious of all the easy prompts coming and going the last few days. I was so confused, this one seemed really hard!

Then I hopped over to Google and found other resources to explain a triolet and give examples, and it finally made sense when I was given a simpler poem example and I simply wrote down the last word in each line. That made the rhyme scheme crystal clear and suddenly I felt much better.

Seriously though, it's like poets.org was trying to be confusing on purpose. -_-

But I digress.

Once I had a better handle on the instructions I'd been given, the next step was to of course actually write the poem to be constructed.

Ironically (given how I started this description), I started my brainstorming with my "phone it in" idea from Day 9 that didn't pan out then. And I actually did come up with a full triolet based off of that which I'm actually quite happy with, but I decided I wanted to hold on to it for another time because I just did a mandala with similar colors to the ones I'd want to use for it, and it also felt wrong to use the first one I came up with without at least trying another option beforehand.

And, it occurred to me that Gerard Way's Phoning it In is getting a lot of the attention of the tracks he released recently, and I have a feeling it's largely because it's the most "complete" in terms of sounding like a full, finished song. So I kinda wanted to give one of the others a little more attention, that being Welcome to the Hotel, which if you listen to it sounds very much like the opening (and possibly refrain) to a longer track.

Once I had that on my mind, visions of the Haunted Mansion, the Tower of Terror (read: Hollywood Tower Hotel), and good ol' Hazbin Hotel started dancing in my head.

For context, the Haunted Mansion and Tower of Terror are both rides located in Walt Disney World; the former being largely just a spooky silly experience under the guise of a "ghostly tour," and the latter being based on The Twilight Zone tv series (the original which is far superior to the reboot/revival/whatever. And if you don't know what Hazbin Hotel is, if you have thirty minutes to kill, Youtube will gladly show you. But suffice to say: Hotel in Heck with the intention of reforming sinners.

Honestly, the whole suspiciously spooky hotel theme was kinda funny to me for a number of reasons, but mainly that that seems a lot like something My Chemical Romance would touch on, and also some of my rhymes were reminding me of their song, Mama, which if you look up the lyrics would tie into Hazbin Hotel in pretty interesting ways.

So, naturally, the idea of a hotel that seems harmless but once you arrive turns out to be something darker, is where the entirety of the poem came from. And just a fun little fact: the word "swell" is actually the word "farewell" with an s on top, and the way the s sits on the word make it look to me almost like it has teeny-tiny spider fangs...Like, such a happy word quite literally has a darker undertone. (and I don't know about you, but "swell" when used in the context of meaning "great" or "happy" normally has something of a condescending undertone to me anyway)

Likewise, I had very specific colors in mind for the mandala; purple and teal for the Haunted Mansion and Tower of Terror, a gold also for the Tower (given how it looks when it's lit up at night) and Hazbin, and a dark red also for Hazbin and the picture of Gerard's vocal cords that he used for the Welcome to the Hotel icon.

And of course, that means I tried to make the mandala shapes/motifs a bit spooky and elaborate (elaborate for the general hotel theme, because spooky hotels in fiction are often of the abandoned-elaborate nature) which ended up including an owl-ish motif I found while browsing Pinterest for ideas (can you spot it?).

Overall, I am very happy with this one, even if the theme isn't super deep or anything. This easily marks the biggest change of heart I've had from first seeing the prompt to the finished product, which is a very good thing (having the change of heart, at least, not starting out miserable and confused)!

I have no idea what to expect tomorrow, but I have certainly learned my lesson to not trust poets.org if at first glance all it does is confuse me and make the prompt seem super hard.

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Artwork/Poem © me, MysticSparkleWings

Inspired by FridgePoetProject

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#napowrimo #welcometothehotel

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kaeunfied · 6 years ago

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190204 Kaeun's [@by.gaeun] InstaStory Q&A

-Q1- Q: do you sleep late usually?? A: yes...if i sleep early, i wake up in early mornings (twilight hours) and i can't sleep 😭 -Q2- Q: noona, what are you doing now A: my aunt came to play, we're all lying down in the living room 🙃🙃 -Q3- Q: is there a drama you're watching recently? A: i'm watching hannibal right now! -Q4- Q: have you played the game superstar pledis? A: i've tried it but it's so difficult..😭 -Q5- Q: what lipstick are you using today💄 A: it's hera -Q6- Q: when do you wake up? A: it's different every day.. it's between 10 to 11:30 am. 😊 -Q7- Q: what is your motto? A: everything happens for a reason. -Q8- Q: unnie, even though this is not a question, i really really support you 😍😍😍 A: really really thank you 💗 -Q9- Q: have you watched sky castle? A: other than the finale, i've watched it all!! i still have the last episode 🤭 -Q10- Q: the song you listen to often recently? 😋 A: dua lipa - homesick -Q11- Q: unnie, sea or mountain? A: seaaaaaa -Q12- Q: unnie, i like you A: Oh my.. me too....❤ -Q13- Q: please recommend a gaeun photo for mobile background A: there's something like this in the gallery -Q14- Q: i'm curious about your shoe size keke A: it's 245 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ -Q15- Q: what is the latest movie you've watched?? A: i just watched bumblebee -Q16- Q: noona, what is the country you want to visit the most?? A: there's so, so many..firstly australia and germany -Q17- Q: favourite movie? A: there's so many.. at this time, it's nice to watch ratatouille ☺️ -Q18- Q: i'm supporting you from the beginning till now, even if a bit, i hope you gain strength. A: please know that it has given me lots of strength..💗 -Q19- Q: you're extremely pretty, cool and lovely..do you recognize it (agree)? ❤️🔥 A: i don't agree..but it makes me happy hearing those words💗 -Q20- Q: unnie, please tell us your diet and body maintenance (fitness) tips A: definitely no to one-food/starving!!! it's impt to minimize salt and sugar intake and take nutrients evenly! drink lots of water! it's great to enjoy exercise🏃‍♀️💕 above all, don't be hung over your weight! -Q21 Q: have you watched 'extreme job'?❤️❤️ A: yes it was really interesting💗honey lee sunbaenim, i love you..🤭 -Q22 Q: it would be great if you don't fall sick and always stay healthy! hwaiting! A: let's both always be healthy! hwaiting 💕 -Q23- Q: i wanna see a selfie that you haven't posted before!!!😭🙏i love you❤️❤️❤️❤️ A: i love you too❤️ -Q24- Q: are you the only child? A: yes that's right! i'm an only child😌 -Q25- Q: noona, please recommend a book you've read!! A: is it okay to recommend a poem book..? the straightforwards writings of this book keeps coming to mind (t/n: the book is called '들켰으면' if you needed the hangul to search!) -Q26- Q: what's your fave flavors from baskin robbins? 💜💜 A: jamoca almond fudge and mint chocolate ☺️🧡 -Q27- Q: unnie.. i can't sleep so, can i ask for your recommendation of the one song you listen to before you sleep ㅜㅜ😍😍❤️❤️ i'm rooting for you A: seems like i have to go to sleep too 😌 shawn mendes - fallin' -Q28- Q: who is the actor you like? 😳 A: it's rose byrne nim..💗 -Q29- Q: what songs do you like from seventeen's discography A: pretty u, adore u -Q30- Q: unnie, will i not be able to get an answer,,,😭😭😭 A: oh my, of course you can get one!! thank you for sending in your question ☺️ -Q31- Q: unnie my self-esteem is very low. Is there a way for me to love myself? A: It is very important to love yourself. It seems to be not a difficult thing. I also have painful memories because of low self-esteem. - Write down your ten or more advantages. - Praise yourself for doing things that you do well every day. Try starting from this? Write down the really small things (for example: have a nice meal) that you can! Don't look at what others say. It's really important to have time to understand yourself.. What do I like? Where I feel happy, what I hate. Where I feel sad.. Please listen to your heart more! Please read more and be satisfied with yourself! Although it is really a very inadequate answer, a little bit, I hope that I (the suggestion) can become a help... -Q32- Thank you for sending a lot of questions💗 Although unfortunately I failed to answer all the questions TT I'm going to sleep now..😌 Good night everyone☺️ I love trans.cr.gaeunbot

#insta story #instagram #190204 #q&a #txt

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douxreviews · 6 years ago

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True Detective - ‘The Big Never’ Review

“You feel like maybe being a detective again?”

I’m sensing the overall theme of this season is uncertainty.

This appears evident in the fractured point of view Wayne Hays, the detective with the faltering memory and a dark and troubled past. A past he is equally longing to remember and desperate to forget.

Old Hays seems just as uncertain of the truth within the Purcell case as his past selves, and finding the truth has never been harder now that he is dealing with not only senility creeping in, but the ghosts of the pasts as well. The ghost of the late Amelia strongly hints that there are things he has allowed himself to forget, things which might compromise the proud integrity that lingers even in his twilight years.

Elisa, the documentary director, may have planted this seed of doubt in his mind when she reveals that there happen to be a lot of holes in the original 1980 investigation. Several members of the community were apparently never questioned, and Hays cannot account for a few who were questioned and divulged pertinent information.

Information which Hays and West get a lead on in this episode. Hays discovers Will’s backpack near the spot in the woods where he was likely murdered. And a local brings to their attention new suspects, a black man with a scar and a white woman who both rode in a brown sedan. They also find that the abductors might have known the children through church, since an old family photo shows Will in a prayer position similar to the one his corpse was staged in.

New suspects might not matter, since I was right about the West Finger rednecks going on a witch hunt and attacking Brett Woodard. The mysterious bag Woodard furiously retrieves from his property can’t bode well. Pretty sure they’re barking up the wrong tree, and I’m thinking he’s going to retaliate and end up making himself look even more guilty than he already did before.

Meanwhile, we get a bit more elaboration on what’s going on in 1990. Hays and Amelia’s attempt at sleuthing in the name of finding Julie only leads to strife in their marriage. Hays panics when he briefly loses track of his daughter at the super market. And since he’s still the only one truly aware of the darker side of the case, Amelia’s enthusiasm at her budding investigatory skills only irritates him.

We get a lot more of Roland West in this episode than we have previously. In 1990, he’s made lieutenant and doing very well for himself. Hays later suggests that his success is a result of being white and getting shot in the line of duty; I guess we’ll see that happen later. Lt. West still greatly respects his former partner, so much so that he invites him onto the task force he’s leading in the new Purcell investigation. Finding no joy in being reduced to desk duty following the first investigation, Hays accepts.

This last scene was my favorite. It establishes that there is a lot of friction between the two men, but they still share a bond over their past as partners in addition to their general cheeky cop’s sense of humor. A lot of great back and forth dialogue in this scene.

I’m glad that they seem to be dropping the deposition format at this point; the documentary aspect in 2015 doesn’t really count, in my opinion. As I’ve said before, fun though it may be, it’s a bit too similar to season one. And this story deserves to be its own thing.

Bits and Pieces:

* This episode highlights something I overlooked in the premiere episode, which is that 70-year old Hays keeps his service revolver handy in case he “needs it.” The implication being that he’s frequently contemplating suicide. Whether this is solely to avoid being put in a rest home by his son or to atone for his past remains to be seen.

* West maintains ties with Tom Purcell of all people in the years following the 1980 case, even helping overcome his alcoholism. Tom has subsequently become a born-again christian in 1990. Lucy seems to have died somehow in the years in between.

* We’re introduced to the Ozark Children’s Outreach Center, which posted a reward for Julie Purcell’s return and subsequently led to many false reports of her whereabouts. It was established by the Hoyt family, which also owns Hoyt Foods, where Lucy Purcell used to work. And the OCOC was founded after the loss of Hoyt’s granddaughter. A bit suspicious. The past two seasons have featured dark conspiracies at the heart of their respective investigations. Either this is it or it’s one big red herring.

* Speaking of possible misdirections, Hays wasn’t happy that Amelia went out for dinner and drinks with one of the detectives overlooking the Walgreens robbery where Julie’s fingerprints were discovered, ostensibly to flirt information out of him. Are we meant to wonder if she cheated on Hays, or are we just meant to think Hays is wondering? He’s clearly paranoid when it comes to his family.

* The poem Hays and Amelia keep discussing is called Tell Me a Story by Robert Penn Warren. It also seems to highlight the theme of uncertainty I mentioned. I found it interesting that Amelia tells Hays in 1980 that we separate ourselves from something when we name it, and the next scene features Hays in 1990 telling her he still can’t read her book because he keeps seeing his name in it; I guess he’s already separated himself from the case, or rather the story of the case.

* “Purple” Hays probably has more significance beyond being just a funny nickname. Many interpret the song “Purple Haze” as evoking some psychedelic experience, but Jimi Hendrix apparently saw it as more of a love song. This might be fitting, as Hays’ relationship with Amelia seems to be as meaningful as his trippy relationship with time and memory. “Is it tomorrow or just the end of time?”

Quotes:

Old Hays: People don’t remember being babies. Good we get to revisit this stage at the end.

West (1990): I think once we stopped working together, we just stopped. Sometimes it’s like that with people.

Amelia’s ghost: Scientists now theorize an infinite number of dimensions outside our own. Einstein said past, present and future are all a persistently stubborn illusion… And are you waking up to that illusion, now while things fall apart? Are you starting to see them clearly? And at the end of all things, are you awakening to what you withheld? Did you confuse reacting with feeling? Did you mistake compulsion with freedom? And even so, did you harden your heart against what loved you most? Oh sweetheart, did you think you could just go on and never once have to look back?

Still very good, but I believe the next episode will offer a bit more clarity on what we've seen so far. Four out of five backpacks full of toys.

Logan Cox

#True Detective #Mahershala Ali #Wayne Hays #True Detective Reviews #Doux Reviews #TV Reviews

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buzzdixonwriter · 6 years ago

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Chillin’ With Netflix (2018 edition)

LOST IN SPACE

Really well done, family friendly space opera. Top notch production values, good / smart writing, superlative cast.

And despite all this, it couldn’t keep my attention past episode 4.

I put the blame on me, not this new series by writers Matt Sazama and Burk Sharpless.

As a preteen, I was in the prime target audience for the original Lost In Space back in the mid-1960s, and that series -- despite its wildly varying tone -- created an iconic show that, try as they might, every subsequent re-make struggles to overcome.

Seriously, it’s like trying to remake I Love Lucy only without Lucille Ball, Desi Arnaz, Vivian Vance, and William Frawley.

Yeah, it can be done, but why bother? Use that talent and energy to do something in the same vein but different.

That being said, I deny no one their pleasure. If you haven’t seen / loved the original, try this version; you might very well like it.

. . .

THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE

Excellent production / writing / cast / performances.

I started out really liking it.

That enthusiasm faded.

I ended up enjoying this new retelling of The Haunting Of Hill House but came away feeling it fell short of 1963’s The Haunting, the first and still best adaptation of Shirley Jackson’s classic ghost story.

First off, a definition of terms (which will explain my enthusiasm fade): In order to work, a ghost story must take place in the audience’s head.

That is to say, the reader / viewer must be left with two equally possibly yet mutually exclusive possibilities: There are such things as ghost, or the haunting is purely psychological in the mind/s of the character/s.

Even in stories such as the original novel or the 1963 film where the possibility is presented that at least one of the characters is mentally unstable and is either imagining / causing the manifestations, the book / movie / series must never come down concretely in either camp.

To make it purely psychological turns it into a drama about mental illness, the make it supernatural moves it from the realm of “ghost story” into “monster movie” where the monster happens to be a ghost.

A ghost story doesn’t have to be scary, simply…haunting. Portrait Of Jenny is a bitter-sweet romance that despite a lack of spookiness remains a bona fide ghost story.

(Ghost comedies such as Topper, Blythe Spirit, Ghost Busters, etc. are a different genre entirely akin to leprechaun / alien comedies where a fantastic being disrupts the lives of the human protagonists.)

This version works well, even though it doesn’t maintain the high level it starts with. The family dynamics are well done, the performances excellent.

For the first couple of episodes the series tries to walk the line, raising the possibility and eventually confirming that mental illness runs through the family that moved into Hill House, but the moment the ghosts begin manifesting themselves, it paradoxically stops being a ghost story and becomes a booga-booga story). Virtuosity for the sake of virtuosity also works against the production, occasionally dragging audiences out of the story to admire how clever the film makers are.

It also gets a little too convoluted and overly melodramatic towards the end, however (ghost stories work best at their simplicity.

And it is not an upbeat ending but a really horrific one as the family in question literally consumes itself.

This version inhabits a godless universe, and the apparent “good” ending is really a terrible one of eternal damnation (albeit not in the Christian sense).

I recognize and appreciate the level of craftsmanship that went into this, and recommend it to people who like scary stories.

But it ain’t what I’d call a ghost story, and it sure ain’t what Jackson would call one, either.

. . .

SHE-RA AND THE PRINCESSES OF POWER

I'm not the target audience for She-Ra in either incarnation.

That being said, I watched episodes 1-3 and 12-13.

It looks good to me. The story was familiar, but like old B-Westerns it's the kind of genre where familiarity breeds affection, so no complaints there.

Pacing seemed slow, but the design and animation was good, voices top notch. Clearly a heavy anime influence.

Really liked the wide range of physical types and acknowledgement of LGBT characters. Lots of fun with the various interpersonal relationships and characterizations, especially Swift Wind, the smartass flying unicorn.

They did a really good job with this show and the characters seemed more like real teens than the previous incarnation.

. . .

THE BALLAD OF BUSTER SCRUGGS

Well, this one I can recommend whole heartedly and without reservation.

Joel and Ethan Coen have shown a remarkable penchant for period films and a strong affinity for Westerns in the past, and this anthology film offers a dazzling grab bag of good / off beat stories that range from the ridiculous to the realistic, though a couple of them are Westerns by location only as they don’t really rely on any of the themes that define the Western genre.

The stories are:

“The Ballad Of Buster Scruggs” -- a hilarious send up of old Hollywood Western clichés starting with the quintessential sing cowboy trope and spiraling into full bore craziness from there.

“Near Algodones” -- a would-be bank robber has a really bad day. Despite its dazzling editorial style, one of the more conventional stories -- and yet it manages to evoke both classic Buddhism, the crucifixion, and the ultimate sardonic joke all in the last 30 seconds.

“Meal Ticket” -- a Twilight Zone-ish story about a backwoods impresario and his limbless performer, told almost entirely silently except for quotes from poems and dramatic works and the occasional song. While it makes good use of its Western locale, there’s really nothing in the story to tie it to the West; it could just as easily occur on a Mississippi riverboat, the back alleys of White Chapel, or the slums of Mumbai.

“All Gold Canyon” -- based on a story by Jack London, it’s a look at how hard and demanding a prospector’s life could be (with a virtually unrecognizable Tom Waits as the grizzled old prospector). The Coen Brothers use their location to the fullest advantage, recreating the feel of what such land must have felt like before the first settlers moved in.

“The Gal Who Got Rattled” -- the longest, most realistic, and most bitter-sweet of the stories, set on a wagon train heading to Oregon, and focusing on a young woman who is definitely not the sort who should be making such a trip. While we can look back from our safe vantage point in the 21stcentury and recognize the Indian Wars were the direct result of rapacious land grabbing by Western settlers, this story does an excellent job of showing just how terrifying it would be to sit on the receiving end of a tribal attack. The ending is a morally complex one, well worth pondering, and especially ambiguous given the nature of the story’s framing element.

“The Mortal Remains” -- weakest of the stories, but salvaged by strong performances. Another Twilight Zone style story, and if you didn’t guess the ending by the one minute mark I’ve got a bridge in Florida made of solid gold bricks I’d like to sell you.

. . .

AMERICAN VANDAL

Yowza! This is one of the best series I’ve ever seen, and it’s perfect in damn near every way.

On the surface it’s a parody of various true crime documentary series, especially Netflix’ own Making A Murderer. It’s told from the point of view of two students in their high school’s audio-visual club who make a documentary about an act of vandalism directed at the school’s teachers and the student who is blamed for it.

Of course, as they investigate, they turn up evidence that the accused student did not commit the vandalism, and in their pursuit of the truth uncover several more secrets on their way to the big reveal.

At first blush, the makings of a solid show.

But what co-creators Tony Yacenda and Dan Perrault manage to pull off with this is nothing short of astounding, a fun parody of a genre that raises interesting questions about both the genre they’re parodying and the issue of truth and guilt, while on top of that adding an incredibly complex yet easy to follow overlay of conflicting characters and emotions.

They get every single detail right, and even seemingly throw away lines / scenes / characters get fleshed out in amazing and unexpected ways (for example, one extremely minor character, with no significant dialog, who appears only briefly on camera as comic relief in one or two early episodes is later revealed to be severely alcoholic, and in recalling his earlier appearances, one realizes the character must be suffering through a genuinely hellish existence).

Dylan, the accused student, starts out as a character of fun and amusement, a high school goofball of Spicoli proportions, only to come to a sad and ultimately terrifying end as he realizes just how dumb and dead-end his life is.

I cannot praise thise series enough. Very rarely will I look at someone else’s work and say “I wish I had done that.” American Vandal is one of the rare exceptions.

The series has two seasons, the first involving Dylan and the vandalism of the teachers’ cars, the second involving a food poisoning incident at a private school the original two students are invited to investigate. Season two is very strong but lacks “the shock of the new” that season one provided; it’s high quality and entertaining, but not as compelling as the original.

. . .

#television #media #comedy #Netflix #Coe Brothers #Lost In Space 2018 #The Haunting Of Hill House 2018 #She-Ra And The Princesses Of Power #The Ballad Of Buster SCruggs #American Vandal

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nothingwithoutwannaone · 6 years ago

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Twilight - Ong Seong Wu

In which Seong Wu’s coffee serves as a source of hope.

“Beautiful wonderful

Those are cliché words

I can’t express how I feel

With those words

Ay I feel stupid when I’m in front of you

I keep repeating the same jokes

But you still laugh

Do you feel the same way?

I smile because of you

I forget about my unclear future

Am I being too greedy?” - Twilight (Wanna One)

In celebration for Wanna One’s 1st Debut Anniversary, @ongsung an I have decided to release a series of oneshots daily, starting from today July 27th and ending on August 6th (August 7th in KST, and thus Wanna One’s anniversary).

I’ve chosen to write based on a selection of Wanna One songs, and she’ll be writing based on the individual teasers that were released for Energetic/Burn It Up. We will link each other’s stories below, so feel free to read hers after this one. See you tomorrow in our next installments :)

Seong Wu carefully poured the cream until it reached just under the brim of of the coffee cup. Selecting the appropriate lid size, he capped the cup before turning around to hand it to the waiting customer.

“Here is your order, sir. I hope you enjoy it!”

The customer thanked him before leaving, and Seong Wu turned around to tackle the next order. However, before he could, his co-worker Woo Jin called out to him.

“Seong Wu hyung, do you mind taking over the counter for a bit? I have to run to the bathroom.”

“Sure, just hurry back. Rush hour is coming up and I don’t want to be manning the counter alone.”

“Got it, will be back in a flash,” Woo Jin said before throwing off his apron and rushing to the bathroom.

Seong Wu punched his credentials into the register before looking up to see the most beautiful person enter the cafe. That might have sounded like an exaggeration, but Seong Wu truly did believe that. Something about her drew him in, and he braced himself as she walked up to the counter to place an order.

“Hello, welcome to The Bean. What can I get for you today?”

“I’ll take a small cafe latte with soy milk, please.”

“All right. Your total is $3.25...and your name?”

“Y/N”

And he wrapped up the transaction before telling her the order would be ready in a few minutes. Seong Wu felt his heart pound faster when she smiled and thanked him before going to wait on the side.

Looking at the cup with which he was going to prepare her coffee, Seong Wu thought for a few seconds before grabbing a pen and scribbling a some lines onto it:

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops -at all-

He then quickly prepared her drink before slipping on a cup holder and heading to the counter.

“A cafe latte with soy milk for Y/N?”

She looked up from her phone when she heard her name and walked over to accept the drink from his hand, their fingers brushing ever so slightly with the exchange.

“Thank you so much, have a good one today!”

He smiled shyly and nodded his head.

“Thank you, you as well.”

And with that, she was gone. Seong Wu let a breath as he began to stew over the poem he wrote on the cup. What spurred him to pen a verse from a famous poem, he had no idea. He ended up hiding them with the cup holder and he wondered if she would even see it. In the case she did see the poem, would she think it was weird? Would she not come back again? Clearly he was overthinking, and mussed his hair in frustration. It was to this sight that Woo Jin came back to.

“What happened? Demanding customer again?”

“No...but I might have chased one away.”

Seong Wu then launched into a story of what happened while Woo Jin was gone, his nervousness increasing as he did. By the end of his story, all Woo Jin could do was smirk.

“Well, it’s too late to worry now, hyung. But in my opinion, it doesn’t seem that bad. I wouldn’t worry if I were you.”

Despite the poem he had so courageously (at the time, anyway) written on Y/N’s cup, Seong Wu didn’t have much hope that he’d see her again. But to his surprise, she was back again the next day. Upon entering, she searched the cafe until her eyes landed on him. When they did, she smiled and made her way to the counter.

“Hi, you’re the one who took my order yesterday, right?”

“M...me? I mean, yes I did!”

Seong Wu wanted to kick himself for stuttering. It wasn’t even a difficult question.

“Did you also write the poem on there?”

He balked slightly before answering. What would she think of him? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

“Yes I did...I apologize if it wasn’t to your liking.”

“Oh, no, I’m not here to complain; I actually really liked it, and wondered where you got it from?”

“Where I got it from?”

She nodded and Seong Wu really wanted to sink into the ground now. Why was he repeating her questions back to her? He felt so stupid all of a sudden.

“Uh, I read it a long time ago but I remember it because it’s one of my favorite poems by Emily Dickinson. Many of her poem’s are numbered instead of titled; this particular one is poem 254.”

“I’ve heard of her before! I think I also read another poem by her back in the day. Do you think you could recommend to me some other poems?”

And so he did. Each day she came in for her coffee, he’d write down a snippet of a poem and the author so she could look them up. Some days he’d write some jokes, just so he could see her laugh when she read it. They were lame, and one time he even repeated a joke by accident, but she still laughed and that made him feel better.

The sight of Y/N everyday nearly made Seong Wu forget everything else. If he was in the middle of something, he’d put a hold on it just so he could greet her when she came in. Although he enjoyed daily encounters, he found himself wanting more, but afraid to ruin what they already had, he kept his feelings silent.

One particular day, Seong Wu walked into the cafe feeling unusually nervous. The feeling of butterflies wouldn’t leave his stomach, and when Y/N came in, he pushed the feeling down to greet her.

“Same as usual?”

“Yes, but I also had something else to ask.”

Seong Wu stopped writing her order and looked up curiously to see Y/N look at him. Was she okay? She looked almost...nervous?

“What is it, Y/N?”

“I was wondering...if you had time this weekend? We could catch a movie before grabbing dinner?”

Seong Wu’s mind blanked as he tried to process her words. She was asking him to watch a movie with her, and to eat dinner with her. He wasn’t imagining things, was he? Seeing how he was not answering, Y/N began to feel embarrassed and diverted her gaze.

“Well...uh, I suppose this is awkward now...I’ll, I’ll just get going.”

That shook Seong Wu out of his reverie immediately and he frantically spoke.

“Wait, wait, don’t leave. I didn’t mean to make you wait! I was just really surprised, that’s all!”

“Surprised?”

He smiled bashfully and scratched the back of his neck.

“I’ve actually had a crush on you since the first day we’ve met. I guess I was in shock that you’d be interested in me at all.”

They both met eyes and blushed as realization sunk in. It looked like there was hope after all.

A/N: Lyric translation credited to colorcodedlyrics

Also realized after writing this that it could be part of the same universe as Woo Jin’s story from my monthly series here LOL

Poem 254 - Emily Dickinson

nothingwithoutwannaone: Min Hyun I Ji Hoon I Jae Hwan I Guan Lin I Dae Hwi I Jin Young I Ji Sung I Woo Jin I Seong Wu I Sung Woon I Daniel

ongsung: Min Hyun I Ji Hoon I Jae Hwan I Guan Lin I Dae Hwi I Jin Young I Ji Sung I Woo Jin I Seong Wu I Sung Woon I Daniel

Master List

#wanna one #wannaone #wanna one imagines #wanna one seongwu #ong seongwu #nothingwithoutwannaone #w1 1st anniversary special

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gabriellapatterson-blog · 6 years ago

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A Drunken Confession

A/N: That’s an out of context spoilers up there. Have fun reading!

Saying goodbye to my family was a bitter rerun. Except this time I didn’t get cookies from the town mayor/baker and I’d be seeing my family again sooner rather than later. We were down to the final six, this wouldn’t go on for much longer. Not to mention I still wasn’t sure if I should tell Ben or not about the kissing dream but if I did I’d probably be gone the next day.

As I hugged them all goodbye my dad whispered in my ear. “Can I talk to you in private for a moment.”

I nodded but was a little confused about why he wanted to. We went inside my bathroom being the only private place I could think of I sat down on the rim of my bath as he leaned against the counter.

“You’re falling for Wyatt.” He stated bluntly with a bit of a smug grin.

“I AM NOT!” I yelled back full force and standing up from my seat, forgetting about the rest of my family. My mom who would probably drag me home by my ponytail if she knew I was falling for someone illegal for me to fall for and my sisters who two of them were too young to really understand.

He chuckled, “keep your voice down. You mom won’t believe me on my plan to tell her I was talking to you about my poems if you screech again.”

I sighed and sat back down on my ledge. “You know your mom was- is just like you. I know you don’t like hearing that because there are some major differences like she’s a cynic you’re an optimist, that’s my fault. But you have her defense stubborn nature. She must have bullied me for a year when she first fell for me.” He chuckled to himself as my face flushed in rage and embarrassment.

“I. do. Not. like. Wyatt.” I replied and crossed my arms. “He’s weird!” I added.

My dad laughed again, “You’ve just convinced yourself you don’t like him because it’s both unconventional for the selection, and because you’re again, like your mother. You don’t like feeling feelings without having been prepared for the feelings. I believe I have a poem about how romance rushes in, it doesn’t like giving you time to prepare which is something both you and your mother hate. You lash out defensively and end up being rude to the people you like.” He paused to stifle some laughter.

“Which is ironic considering you confessed to him in that very way today. What was it “I like you.” Then you turned to me and said, that's why you said boys were mean to me in elementary school, right? Yup. You act like an elementary school boy, Gabby.” He replied.

I wanted to argue. I knew I should argue. But I also knew my dad was right. He knows me so well and I’ve seen that defensive nature in both my mom and I before, just on things other than romance. I clenched my jaw as I managed to get out the words to the point, “Why are you bringing this up?” I asked.

“Well, back at the library you didn’t seem to really notice how you felt about Wyatt, otherwise you wouldn't have confessed to him. Second you unfortunately did not get my side of the families tendency to be bold. You like to act it but never follow through on the things that matter. You’ll glady swim with a shark but would never actually be emotionally vulnerable, which I’m not saying that’s bad it just makes relationships difficult. You’re my daughter so I just want you to be happy. You seem happy with him but you’re too much of a chicken to actually do anything about it.”

“That’s not true!” I insisted.

“Whatever happened with that boy you liked in high school? The one who was one of your mom’s patients?”

My eyebrows furrowed as I got his point. But I didn’t want to. I’m not a coward, I don’t do bad things, and dating Wyatt would be a bad thing, confessing to wyatt would be a bad thing, anything involving Wyatt is just bad. He’s just a dork. Why would I let myself get this racked up over a little- well he’s actually pretty tall- but anyways, why would I let myself get racked up over a mocking, witty, funny, ugh!

“Just let him know how you feel. I know you think it’s risky but the royals seem nice. They won’t penalize you for being honest. I know your mom would oppose the risk which is why I brought you in here, but that’s also why your mom’s first boyfriend was me. I was the only one who could get past her shell. Anyways, I just want you to be happy, but you shouldn’t expect people to read your mind. You have to be honest even if it’s scary.” He said.

I nodded and took his advice as much as I didn’t want to. If I wanted to be happy in life I needed to be honest. I like Wyatt. I may be scared because probability is he doesn’t like me back, but there’s no way I’ll ever know if I don’t put myself out there.

“Michael! We need to head out!” I heard mom say from my room.

We got up to head back out and my dad put his hand on my shoulder, “Remember Gabby, let your heart lead you. It’ll take you to a happy end.”

We went out and regathered with the family. Mom gave me a tight up before they left, “Stay safe, Ella! Remember to be sensible. Use good judgement!” She said as they shuffled off leaving me alone again in my room.

I let out a sigh at everything running around in my head. I don’t like Wyatt, I do like Wyatt, I should go off of my gut and my heart, I should use my head and be sensible. I don’t know. I grumbled and laid down in my bed and took a nap. My go to activity for when I’m stressed.

I woke up at lunch time as my maids came in to get me ready to go down. I couldn’t see Wyatt like this. Let alone function. Hazel would probably pick up right away. She may be young but the girl is observant. I huffed and buried my face into my pillow.

“I don’t feel well, I want to stay up here for lunch and dinner.” I replied my voice muffled into my pillow. They listened and quickly left me alone again.

I just wanted to go back to sleep and stay asleep. Like sleeping beauty. Sleep through all the stress and drama and just wake up to my prince char- to my love interest kissing me awake. Though, I suppose that doesn’t really sound to consensual.

I rolled over in bed and shut my eyes tight as I tried to go back to sleep. All I could think about was the Wyatt situation. I still didn’t know what to do. Would Ben be hurt? Well I think he likes me but enough that it would hurt him if I told that I liked Wyatt. Would Wyatt tell Ben if I just told him? Would Ben tell Wyatt if I told him?

“Ughhhhh!” I groaned.

“Is everything alright, Gabriella?” I heard a voice speak.

“WHAT THE HELL!” I yelled as I sat up and I identified the voice as my maid Lily.

I sighed in relief as I now knew who it was, “What are you doing in here?” I asked since I had dismissed them earlier.

“Oh well you said you weren’t feeling well so Rose, Violet, and I have been going back and forth on checking on you. It was my turn.”

“What? I’ve been awake I didn’t hear any of you.” I asked confused as I looked around and saw my clock which said it was now 11pm. WHAT. Apparently, I had gone to sleep but still had been deep thinking, what?

“You’ve been asleep for awhile, actually. So is everything alright?” She asked again.

“Oh yeah I’m just stressed.” I sighed then rolled over and grabbed my pillow tossing it up in the air and catching it again, an activity I had started doing while on bedrest.

“Lily, what do you do when your stressed?” I asked.

She chuckled, “I normally get blackout drunk and watch a movie, doesn’t seem like a very you thing though.” She replied. Being drunk sounds actually great right now.

“Lily, can you bring me like, all the wines, a way to watch a movie, and a horrible chick flick?” I asked.

I then spent about a two hours downing three bottles of wine and screaming about Bella from twilight being a hoe. How can she do this to Mr shiny! He’s supposed to be with her! Now she’s off flirting with hairy mc-hair boy! I huffed and got up.

I needed to tell Wyatt about this movie! It was so intense! There was like murder! Blood! Sparkles! It was the epitome of- what was I saying again? It was movie good!

I stumbled on my feet as I sloppily got dressed and waddled up to his room. I walked up the step somehow not slipping down all of them, but by the time I made it to his room I had more or less forgotten why I came up there.

I knocked loudly on his door not having too great motor control, “Whyyyyyy-hit.” I slurred and had to stop for a small hiccup, “Why-hit.” I said again with a giggle thinking of his name as a pun on the word why.

I didn’t hear anything so I just turned and pressed my back against the door and dropped to the ground. The world was spinning and Why-hit was probably asleep. I giggled to myself again. “Whyyyyyattt-whhhhyyy.” I said with another giggle, “is the world spinning. So many whys. Why, Y, then wyatt. Its a name- word- in a nameee.” I said then accidentally hit my head on the door, “Owwwww.” I said.

I heard a quick shuffle from inside the room before the door flung open causing my to fall back on the ground fully laying down now and looking up at Wyatt. “Gabby?” He asked.

“Heyyy Wyatttt.” I said and giggled some more. “You have ah-an- a funny name. Did you know that? It's very fun to say though. Wyyyyattt.”

He blinked seeming surprised at my presence then frowned and crouched down so be closer to my level. “Where have you been all day?” Oh yeahhh he’s my right side table mate. I’ve missed lunch and dinner today. HAH maybe that’s why this stuff is so strong. Empty tummy. Hah TUMMY.

“My room. I haven't been feeling well so I took a nap all day. I feel great now though! I got three bottles of wine.” I said and reached up to put three fingers up but forgot what I was doing to I decided to squish Wyatt’s face instead, “Can I come innnn my room is so far away and the world is so dizzy. I don't wanna be on bedrest againnnn.” Since I’d probably fall and sprain my ankle again if I tried to walk too far like this.

He gave me a flat look, “So you're drunk?” He asked his voice muffled by his squished cheeks.

I let go of his face and kept one of my arms up for a very matter of fact point, “I am not drunk! I do not drink! I have drink once! I was 16! I'm a different person now. I'm just a litttttttllllleee bit tipsy now. But I've had a really- complicated- er confusing, maybe just horrible day so I needed it.”

“You didn't need it.” He said and tried to help me sit up.

“I needed it.” I was too busy thinking about our hot and steamy dream kiss I needed the wines to help the head thoughts. I rolled over to get on my knees then decided to just sit on them.

“My dad also kinda told me to. Since he told me I needed to not be such a chicken and al-alc- alc-o-ha whatever, makes you less of a chicken. Sitting up is so much workkk, can I come in your room?”

He gave me an unimpressed look, “I only understood 30% of the words you just said.” Well that sucks for him because I understood 110%. He then looked down the hallway and pulled on my arm to help me get up, “You might as well get in so you can sober up.”

I giggled then shot up, “Yayyy, I havent been in your roombeforesince nayalya did the taking.” I mumbled slurring my words together. I looked around quickly before deciding I wanted to sit on his bed. Wyatt tried to block me BUT FOOL I PLAYED BASKETBALL so I got around him and flopped face first on his bed. “Your bed smells like you.” I said my voice muffled from the bed before I turned my head to breath.

Wyatt blushed at that and wiped his hands on his pants for some reason. Then decided to turn on the bigger room lights and pour me some water. I don’t need that! I’m not a wuss! All I need is more winesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss. “I'll take that as a compliment.” He said.

“You're cute when you blush. You're like a little tomato its funny. I wish I liked tomatoes. The idea of them is so appealllinnggg hahhhhh appealing beacause you peel tom- you dont peel tomatoes do you?”

He took a deep breath and finished pouring the water, “Why do I always have to deal with drunk girls?”

“Do you constantly have to? This is very very unlike me. I dont get drunk offten because last time I got drunk I tattled on my bitch friend and told everyone she was a bitch then kicked her off the cheer team. Then I'm pretty sure Emma got rid of the party. SHE WAS A BITCH THOUGH!” I said with 0 filter.

Wyatt stared at me in bewilderment, “What?”

“I'm sorry that was just the last time I was drunk. There was this girl in my cheer squad, Nina. She made Emma anorexic and was a general bitch so i got drunk ans publically called her out. Then she stole my boyfriend. I do stupid things when i drink, conclusion.” I explained giving him the chalked up summary.

“High schools can't possibly be like the movies.” He mumbled to himself.

I looked up at Wyatt from the bed, “What do you know about high school? Are you judging off of fiction? like the horses?You said that was wrong to do? but here you are. Judging! Though I guess your source is right because they are like them. Though I was not too good at being a hot cheerleader.” I paused to flop my head back onto the bed then yelled into the mattress, “No one would ever date me because I'm too defensive!” My reason for not being a good stereotypical cheerleader.

“I was actually implying that I didn't judge them to be like the movies but you are making them sound like they are.” He replied then laughed at my second part. “I see... pity for them I guess.” He said walking over with the glass of water.

I then sat up in the bed ready to take the water and took the glass as I spoke, “Yeah a real pity. I'm a mighty fine catch. That's a phrase right? Yeah because its with fish in the sea. I almost got one but then I was too prideful to talk to him and Nina took him. His name was Jonathan. He was actually a lot like you, you're cuter though. But youre both mega dorks but somehow make it look cool.”

Once I compared the two Wyatt’s eyes got wide, his cheeks red, and he cleared his throat, “Uh, thanks.. I think.”

“You should think!” I chimed then pat him on the back. Then realized that didn’t quite make sense. “I dont think thats right. You should say thanks! it was intended as a compliment! there! Do you have any food?” I asked and took a sip of the water. I forgot what a blessing water was, “God i love water.” I said then set the cup down on his nightside table and flopped back down, sitting up being such a chore.

He blinked then walked over to his mini fridge, “So... how exactly did you end up here again?”

I thought for a moment trying to remember why I had come, then it hit me. THE MOVIE. “OH YEAH THATS RIGHT! Have you seen- okay so I don't remember their names, but I was watching these amazing movies while I was drinking! They're so good I had to tell you. There's like a sparkly person and a hairy boy and blood and murder!”

He crouched down to take out some, blessed oreos, and milk but paused to give me a look, “That doesn't really sound like my style of movie.” It is everyone’s style of movie. IT’S AMA-ZONG.

“It's based off of a book! What was it called?” I asked as I went distraught in thought and rolled on his bed. “TWILIGHT!” I exclaimed.

He raised his eyebrows as he opened the package of oreos, “Oh wow, you must be really drunk.”

“Oh my God cookies!” I exclaimed as they were closer now and scootched over to them.

“I keep chips in my room at home but cookies are a better idea. And I'm not thattttt drunk. I asked my maid Lily what she does when she's stressed and she says she drinks and watches movies so I asked for a bad movie because they're funny BUT IT WAS ACTUALLY REALLY GOOD”

He rolled his eyes clearly trying to hold back a smile as he handed me a glass of milk and the cookies. “People don't tend to describe Twilight as "really good".”

“Well they should. I should be a movie critic I would be FANTASTIC I know all the acting and filming shit.”

“I'm so sure.” He said as he pulled a beanie bag over by the bed and plopped down on it. HAH ITS MY BED NOW. He then opened a can of canada dry, doesn’t that soda just taste like fizzy nothing? “Enlighten me.” He added.

“Well- like here's the first thing the scenes they get DARKER in dark parts of the movie. its artistic genius! and the actors are all like so into it. and the main character is like her name has meaning but i forget what it is BUT IT'S GOOD BELIEVE ME THAT!”

He nodded like ‘yes but of course’ and took a swig of his drink, “Sounds legit.”

My eyebrows furrowed and my cheeks flushed at the word, “I hate that word.”

He snorted and tried to sit up straighter in the beanie, “Why?”

“Well I wanna prove my dad wrong that I am NOT a coward so I'll tell you- hah stop saying i look like chicken little HE'S A COWARD AND I'M NOT A COWARD- sorry.” Wyatt grinned at my vine reference.

“But anyways. I had a dream the night you brought my toast but in my dream we kissed. When it ended you said "that was legitness" its been haunting me since and honestly is the reason I drank and didn't come to lunch or dinner because my dad said I liked you. Which I don't! at least I think i don't. I'm pretty sure I don't. *pauses* Well I do like you. But there wasn't a point in saying so until he had to call me a coward because now I had to prove that I'm not!” His grin quickly faded as I spoke and he seemed surprised when I mentioned the kiss. He stood up as I finished talking and laughed nervously.

“No, no. No, no. I really doubt you like me. It's just the alcohol speaking.” He tried to reason.

“No no. No no, I do. My dad knows me like the back of my hand. I get defensive and attack when I feel insecure which he pointed out. I'm that way with you being I like you and it catches me off guard so I amp up defense and bully. Which he pointed out was ironic since I jokingly said I liked you like one of those elementary school boys when I was apologizing but it's 100% true. You're dorky, cute, funny, your admirable, you have great interests, and being with you honestly just makes me feel entirely different than how I feel when I hang out with other people. I'm able to focus more on the present instead of stressing and just genuinely enjoy spending time with you. I like you. That I'm 100% certain which is what I realized today and why I hid in my room.” I explained. His face got redder and redder as I explained. He was clearly panicking. For some reason I wasn’t, shouldn’t I be? Oh wait no I’m drunk.

He plopped back down on his beanie and looked up at me for a moment before our eyes caught eachothers and he panicked and looked away. “I-Um, I enjoy spending time with you as well.” He said as he face palmed. He’s really working to hard. I don’t expect him to do anything but reject me here I’m not that unrealistic.

I couldn’t help but to burst out laughing finding it funny how much he had panicked, granted had the roles been reversed I probably would have reacted similarly. “I get it. You know I may be academically dumb but that doesn't mean I'm reckless. I know how to weigh pros and cons. I've already considered how you feel about me and decided that it seems you didn't like me. You don't have to try and formulate a perfect reply. We can just keep being friends for these last few weeks till I'm sent away.” I couldn’t help but to be smiley at his cute flustered face, but I had to be nice so I laid back down in bed and looked at the ceiling so he wouldn’t have to worry about eye contact.

“Anyways, it explains my weird behavior of eye contact avoiding a few days ago before breakfast. Additionally, any other weird behavior since then. Also my dads comments about me being like my mom. Apparently, she bullied him for their whole first year of knowing each other. He was too much of a dork supposedly.”

He sat up in the beanie bag and leaned forward on resting his elbows on his knees and sat in silence for a moment. Oh no, that’s a serious thing. He’s gonna say something serious, “So... that means I’m too much of a dork as well.”

I burst out laughing and rolled over on my side to look at him as I spoke, “I believe I established earlier, you're dorky enough that you somehow make it cool. Still enough for me to bully you for but not in an actual bad way.”

He looked to the floor once I rolled over, “I’m a paradox then.”

“I suppose so. That's probably why I drank like so much wines. Too much thinking because of paradox. Like is he an annoying dork? Is he a cute dork? Both Both is good. The Road to El Dorado.” I said making another reference.

He chuckled, “The best of both worlds?”

Hah! He’s activated my trap card, in my horrible horrible, bad enough that your father writes a poem about it singing I started, “YOU GET THE LIMO OUT FRONT UOAHAHAU.”

He covered his ears, “Oh no, I take it back, stop!”

I started laughing at his reaction then gathered myself, “It's too late, Schreave! It's your itsy bitsy hell but hannah montana now! HOtTEST STYLeS, EvERY SHoE EveRy ColOR!”

He got up and threw a blanket on top of me hoping that would be enough to stop me, “you’re not a superstar.”

I managed to flop some of the blanket off of me, “I have to be a superstar. Otherwise you wouldn't have taken all those pictures of me. It's truly because I'm a-” I did a dramatic pause and flipped my hair, “A superstar.”

He gave me a flat look, “Yes, you’re right. That must be it.”

I chuckled, “So what did you think of my family anyways? You didn't get to meet Mae or my mom but other than those 2.”

“Ellie is quite enthusiastic...it reminds me a bit of Hazel when she was younger.” He said and sat back down on his beanie. “Your dad kind of reminds me of my own, though mine holds back more when it comes to telling embarrassing stories about us-” He paused, “-Usually.”

I chuckled, “Yeah he aimed to destroy. You didn't get too see too much of Riley's personality because she's a lot more reserved around strangers but she's pretty chill. And mom and Mae, Mae is 13 months old and really likes bananas. Mom is very serious and likes to do her work at the hospital. I don't see her too much because of it but dad tries to remind her to take breaks.”

“And you went through life surfing and being a cheerleader with a girl you hated?” The question threw me off since we weren’t really on the topic of high school or cheer or Nina.

“You mean Nina? Nina only did cheerleading so it wasn't too big of a deal and it was just the first 3 years of high school. I also did other sports too and surfing so I had a lot of time away from her. Plus aren't you the one that was all like-” I paused and held my hand up making a mouth puppet with my thumb and other fingers, “sometimes you have to put up with nasty people for the GrEaTeR GoOD." I said in a mocking voice opening the hand mouth along with it.

He narrowed his eyes, “The outcome of Illéan economy doesn’t really depend on you being a cheerleader.”

I chuckled and put my hand down, “Well it mattered to me an I enjoyed being a cheerleader. I didn't see why I should stop just because another girl was a bitch. Honestly I should have gotten drunk and kicked her off the team much sooner than I did. I do good things when I drink. Like this time, I got cookies.”

He nodded awkwardly and looked around the room, “Why were you still up?” I asked.

He looked back at me and hesitated for a moment before standing up and walking over to his desk covered with the photos. “I couldn't sleep, so I figured I should find something to do.”

I stumbled to get up curious to look at the photos and made my way over to them, “Why couldn't you sleep?” I asked.

He shrugged, “Well, my sleeping schedule isn't the best to begin with, but I guess with everything happening lately, it's only gotten worse.” HE'S LIKE BEN.

My daughter of a doctor instincts kicked in, “You should get a good sleep schedule, its high-hih-” I couldn't help but to giggle a bit as a struggled with the word, gosh drunk gabby is not good at arguing, “Very important! Health!” I said and threw my arms up.

He chuckled, “You say this as you stand before me drunk at..” He looked to his clock, “half an hour away from 2 A.M.”

“As I said before.” I said and pointed my finger at him, “I am n-no not! drunk. Just a litttleee wee bit tipsy. And this is not a normal thing for me. I would be asleep by now. Well most days. Recently I've been up late scared I'll have another that was legitness dream.”

He poked me on my forehead with his index finger to prove how off balance I was which resulted in me flopping back down onto his bed. He then cleared his throat and turned back to the pictures, “That traumatizing, huh?”

“Very.” I replied then realized that may have hurt his feelings, “Not because kissing you would be bad or even gross, though that is what I've been telling myself to try and persuade myself out of it, but I don't think it would be bad in a horrific sense, it's just been stressful because I've been going through the steps of like well maybe it'll just go away, and then it didn't, and then maybe I should tell you and/or Ben but I decided not too because keeping it to myself means nothing bad could happen and maybe it was just a blip and I would get back to liking just Ben and no one would ever need to know. But that didn't happen. Then dad told me to tell you but mom told me to be smart and telling you would not be smart so I just got more stressed and popped and normally i would go surfing but this stupid hip and foot so I drank. But anyways if I had another dream about you I'm sure it would have just added to the stress.”

“So you don't plan on telling Ben?” He asked as he flipped through the pictures.

“Undecided. I mean I wasn't going to at first to see if it would pass, but then I noticed last time we hung out alone I didn't feel like I liked him as much and that he should know regardless of my weird dream and liking you. But I also have selfish reasons that I want to stay like I like spending time with you and want to just wait it out since there's only a few girls left. And with rationalizing it seems easier to not tell him since it's not like there's a high probability he'd like me best anyways. So I could just show slight disinterest so I stay as long as natural but still get time to hang out as friends with you. But ethics and math and thinking. Now I want more alcohol.”

Wyatt’s ears got red as I spoke. “Alright... “ He said and shook his head, “I mean-- about the staying, not the alcohol.” He clarified. I heard him sigh then he spoke up again, “There's something else you can do if you don't want to think too much though.” He said and offered a hand to me.

I took his hand and sat up leaning on him a bit as I wasn’t the best at balancing in my current state, “Die?” I asked genuinely not knowing what he could mean.

He gave me a flat look, “Shut up.” As we walked towards the balcony.

“It’s my honest best guess.”

He let go of me for a moment to grab his camera, then came back and held my arm to help me stay balanced and we went outside on his balcony, “We can’t go to the beach but it’s the next best thing.” He said which made me smile. Either we had similar coping mechanisms to stress and liked being by the beach or he was actually considering me as a person and trying to help.

I chuckled and plopped down on the ground of the balcony, you could still see the shore and dangle your legs off the edge, “Yeah drinking and the beach are a bad combination. Plus it's what? Almost two am you said? I love the beach, don't you? It's interesting because there's just so much we don't know about it, and thrilling because you have no idea what's around you but somehow we as people always feel safe in it. Plus the sounds of the waves are just so steady that it could just put you to sleep. Not to mention the way that it connects us all. Doesn't matter which country you're from or in, if you're in the ocean you're in the same mass as everyone else in the world. It's just invigorating.” I said rambling on a bit I gazed out and watched as the black blobs that I knew to be waves gently swayed back and forth from the beach. I love the ocean at night.

I closed my eyes for a moment thinking about the night before I applied for the selection. The night I went out surfing and decided that there was no point in my applying. Nothing was void in my life so I shouldn’t do anything to risk derailing it. It was my mom talking in me. I hadn’t known what I was missing so I evaluated the risks poorly. Being with Wyatt and the relationship friendship or otherwise I was building with him was worth leaving home for a bit.

“You get really deep when you’re drunk... “ He replied. “We like the sound of waves because it’s a ‘non-threat’ sound. It fools your brain into thinking it should be calm because there’s no imminent danger.” He then added.

I turned back to look at him after he said that, “You're a genius.” I said before laying down on the floor of the balcony, my eyes needing a break as my head spun from the alcohol. Though, it’s silly that waves would tell us that when there’s all kinda of dangerous animals in the ocean, not to mention the waves themselves can kill.

“You know what animal I feel bad for?” I prompted.

He was taking a picture of the sea as he replied, “Porcupines?” What? No?

“No? Should I feel bad for porcupines? What's bad with them? I feel bad for sharks. They don't even want to eat people they hate how we taste! they just don't know what we are and their mouths are too big so when they try to figure it out they end up being vilified. We examine things all the time yet they are seen as evil! It's not fair!”

He raised an eyebrow at me, “That's a really bad comparison. But I said porcupines because they can't be hugged.” He said before placing a hand on his chest dramatically and making a deeply troubled face, “It's so sad.” He then paused and looked to no one behind his shoulder and added, “Alexa play despacito.”

I then burst out into laughter at both his meme and a pun that came to my head, “No no no! If you get like a space suite- suu- suit you could hug them! You just have to be careful! Wait- are they sad because they're.....POOR-CUPINES?!” I kept laughing at my own horrible joke.

He sighed and quickly gave me a glance, “You're truly awful.”

I chuckled at his reply and was about to insult him back before I caught myself. “I know. Hey, while I'm drunk and not a prideful moron I should apologize to you sincerely for all of the mean things I say to you as a defense. Like calling you a stupid mcstupid head. You're not a stupid mcstupid head.” I said. Wow. A real apology. My dad would probably cry from joy.

“Eh, maybe just a tad, but I appreciate the apology.” He replied with a small smile. We then sat in silence again and just rested listening to the sounds of the world.

I took a deep breath in as I closed my eyes for a moment. This felt right. Sitting with Wyatt and just thinking and being together. No words passed for a moment sandwiched between our small bits of banter and conversation.

“So this Jonathan never even showed interest in you? I thought cheerleaders were popular.” He asked. I had to hold back from grinning at the question. Oh, so he does care about my past romances?

I then took a deep breath in before explaining since there were a lot of knots and background reasons to put out for him to best understand, “Cheerleaders are popular but I didn't have the general cheerleader personality like Emma and Nina. They did much better with the boys than me. Plus Jon was a total nerd. His favourite class was English because he liked the books. Emma knew him better than though since they had math and english together and I'd just watch from afar she said he liked me at least enough that he would say yes if I asked him out but he never talked to me. Then I was too nervous to ever talk to him and Nina swooped in for vengeance since she knew I liked him and he's a two. She wants to be a model but shes a three. Not a upper class three like me either. My dad heard gossip about her in the biweekly mom's book club, so I'm not sure if its true at all, but they had heard she didn't live with anyone and the house she stayed in wasnt owned she was just squatting. It would make sense because she rarely invited us over and I know she didnt live with her biological parents. She told me her mom killed herself and her dad turned into an alcoholic so she was removed, but then shouldn't she have had a foster family? I never saw them at least. But anyways her foster parent or parents were threes so she got assigned a three caste. Not a model caste so Jonathan was a good person for her to leech to. I don't know why Jonathan is with her. Emma doesn't either she keeps trying to find out though.” I hope she does. I don’t know Jon too well, but just from human being to human being I wouldn’t want anyone to be stuck with that bitch.

“I did let him borrow a pencil once though. That was some real steamy action.” I added sarcastically. I wondered for a moment about Wyatt’s past with romance. Maybe it would come up later, maybe not. It would probably be too much to ask in addition to my big splur of an explanation. So I suppose I’ll just have to wait.

He laughed at my second comment, “An awkward, nerdy jock. Who would've thought.” He replied then thought for a moment, I was curious to know what he would say but quickly found out, “Not to judge Johnny boy or anything, but if he was bold enough to ask for a pencil he should've asked you out instead of waiting for you to do it. He missed his chance.” I smirked a bit at the name Johnny boy but tried to focus.

“Yeah I wonder why he didn't if he liked me. Probably Emma was just lying to encourage me. It wouldn't be out of character for her to do that. Or maybe he just wanted me for my pencils. And thank you I truly am a rare thing. I think Emma was always annoyed that I was more popular than her. Not with boys but people generally attracted towards me. It wasn't my fault though I'm just too awesome.” I replied with a smirk showing of my charm of humility.

“And let's not forget clearly humble.” He replied.

“Highly humble. Like if there is a human form of humble it would be me. I'm just that darn good.” I grinned at the adjective then got curious. I wonder if there's a way I can find out more of Wyatt thinks of me, “Let’s play a game.” I suggested.

“Like what?” He asked warily.

I sat up and faced him, “Okay so I haven't played this since elementary school but it was fun to me then. So it's super easy, I remembered it because of calling myself so many adjectives. But basically you have to come up with an adjective that fits each letter of another person's name and personality. Such as right now I would say wary for the W in Wyatt.” I said giving an example.

He scoffed a laugh, “For once I benefit from having a weird letter combination on my name. I'll go with gleeful.” I had a rather gleeful grin grace my face as he complied to play.

“I didn't even think of that. Y hmmmm.. Yyyyyyy…” YEET? Yeazy? What does that even mean? I spoke before I even thought, “Yummy!” I said then went bright red myself, “because you're attractive. It's the best I can think of.” I mumbled pretty embarrassed at my own word choice.

His face went red as well as he scooted away from me in panic, “I'll pretend that's just you being drunk and say absurd for A.” I chuckled at that. Well I really didn’t have a filter when I was this drunk.

“It is just me being drunk. Though you are attractive and there are very few Y adjectives I would normally never call you yummy. A, Affable.”

‘Interesting.” He said and took a moment to think but then quickly said, “Bold.”

“Hah I'm gonna run out before you. I'll have to go with your middle name then. What is it? And T for tall.” I asked planning ahead.

He chuckled, “Christopher. R for-” He then paused to dramatically wave a hand in the air, “-ravishing.” I wanted to comment on the fact that he just called me ravishing but instead my attention had to be distracted by the middle name.

“Your middle name is Christopher? I forgot you royal people like to pass on names like that. I think it’d be weird to give me kid my name as their middle. Alright last T. Hmmm tenacious.”

He nodded, “I thought you knew by now that I was a junior.”

“I did not. It hasn't come up. Well my middle names are funny too. My parents went with Rose Marie. Get it. like Rosemary. Rosemary was my grandmothers name so it’s supposed to be a tribute without being weird because rosemary is a weird name.” I said explaining my two middle names. Thankfully, they didn’t make it my first and it was my grandmother so thats not as weird as my dad or I guess in my case it would be my mom.

“So they decided not to be weird by naming you Rosemary, and instead made you Gabriella Rose Marie Patterson.” He then seemed to notice something, “You have more names than me,” He said all smug like. At first I was confused why then it occured to me I had just called him being a junior stuffy and having a long name was pretty stuffy itself.

I then slightly shoved him, “Shut up. At least mine isn't a copy of my parents name. Its my grandmother so that makes it more okay and its slightly changed. Thank goodness they didn't name me Rosemary. I don't know how I would have lived with that. Maybe I could go by Rose.” I wrinkled my nose at the sound of my name and shook my head. Rose was for sure a hard no.

Wyatt wrinkled his nose as well, “The girl that kissed Ben at the bar was named Rosie.”

“Ew. Yikes no. What about Mary then?” I asked and pressed my lips thinly together as I considered the name, “No for me. I think id just have to go by a whole new name had they done that to me.”

He thought for a moment refusing to give up, “Oh, I know. Rory. RO-sie and ma-RY.”

“Thats a boys name, isnt it? Like on The Office?” I asked.

He blinked, “I got it from a show Layla watched called Gilmore Girls. It was a nickname for this girl named Lorelai, but I never really understood the reason.”

I scoffed a laugh, “What kinda a name is Lorelai? I don't understand parents sometimes.” Though, realistically I’d be probably naming my own kid after a meme. Jarden Whaddup _______. My son.

Wyatt raised an eyebrow seeming fairly amused. Why? What had I done wrong? “Your etiquette teacher is named Lorelai with a spelling variation.” Oh crap.

“Can you tell I don't pay attention during those classes?” I asked rhetorically.

He jokingly gave a loud sigh, “You are a disappointment with napkins.”

HEY! “Shut up. You're a disappointment with I don't know...um..fuck...you're a disappointment with something”

He gave a brief chuckle, “Oh, of that I’m sure.”

I rolled my eyes, “God you're so stupid that's not how you're supposed to respond to insults. You don't just agree you moron.”

“Thanks.” Wyatt replied with a smile then decided to be a smart Aleck, “Very compelling advice as you insult me again.”

“Well you didn't accept being a moron at least. Are you an idiot sandwich?” I asked. Since he did accept being called a disappointment, but he hadn’t agreed to the moron insult.

“Well, moron, stupid and idiot are kind of synonyms, chef Ramsay.” I already knew that, that wasn’t my question.

“Thanks. But do you think you're an idiot?” I asked deciding to clarify more.

“I’ve been an idiot once or twice, but I like to think it’s not my usual.” He answered.

“Good.” I said then pat him on the back. We talked for a bit longer about my total and complete perfection

“Impressive. Which by the way happens to be a word that perfectly fits with i.” He said about my total confidence in my perfection.

I chuckled, “Oh yeah I forgot about the name. I'm on your middle name now, right? Because Wary, Yummy, Affable, Tall, and tenacious. So C…Chivalrous.”

“Really? I thought I made the air foul.”

“Only when you watch me try to open napkins. Then it's like suffocatingly foul.”

His eyes narrowed as he focused on the next word. He chewed the inside of his cheek as he seemed to be deeply considering what he would say next, “Enlivening.”

He clicked his tongue, “I had ideas, I just wanted to use something better.”

“I suppose that could be true. A in Wyatt took me awhile because I wanted something harder than adorable.” I replied not thinking too much about the fact that I indirectly had called him adorable until he cleared his throat.

“Well, I wanted something more meaningful than empathetic.”

I scoffed a laugh, “Empathetic wouldn't even be accurate. I'm very me focused. Otherwise I wouldn't have come to your room in the middle of the night I would have thought "huh, he's probably asleep. I shouldn't wake him"

“Um…” He said as clearly hadn’t thought of that. “You still seem like the type of person that at least tries to understand how someone else feels occasionally though.”

I chuckled, “Well at least I may try too when I'm not near blackout drunk.”

“So not the most empathetic, but it's something. Either way, L is lighthearted.”

“R for reliable. At least when you want to ask someone to entertain your little sister. Reliable there.” I referenced him playing with Ellie and letting her use his camera.

He nodded, “And L again for loyal. With your family. It's pretty clear who's most important.” He replied which made me smile. I was happy to know he had gotten to know me enough to notice how important my family is to me.

I chuckled, “You're right there. It's honestly the reason I'll never be a surfer. I like to say it's just because I don't want to deal with fighting my mother because she disapproves. But I was around with Riley told mom she was marrying a five. It wasn't pretty. I'm not going to put Eliana or Mae through that. Did I tell you I got an idea for an occupation I might be able to settle for?”

“Marine biologist?” WOW THAT'S AN IMPRESSIVE GUESS.

“So I must have told you before. That was underconsideration yes, but shark tagging and studying sharks specifically would be fun. It wouldn't be as great as staying home and surfing and I'm not really a fan of travel and being away from my family but it gets me on the ocean and studying something thrilling. Plus a lot of its action so I don't have to use too much of my head for the tagging part.”

“You didn't say it, but talking about how much there is to explore about the ocean kind of gave you away... you actually want to study sharks though?” He replied. I suppose that was kinda a give away.

“Yes. They're interesting and wild. My dad made a good way of explaining my cowardness earlier that put the idea in my head. he said "you're brave on the outside enough that you would try to swim with a shark but so much of a coward that you'd rather argue with people and taunt them then let them see you emotionally open." I then gave a slight chuckle.

“Guess that does not apply when I'm drunk though.” I added before holding up a quick thumb up.

“But they're cute and they get a bad rep. I don't know too much about them but learning more could be fun. At least more so than being a lawyer,” I wrinkled my nose at the thought of being stuck with a load of long and boring paperwork.

“Then again there are drawbacks. I do think exploring is fun but I dislike the idea of travel. Even coming here was scary to me and it's only like an hour and a half away from my home. But still it's worth consideration.” I weighed the pros and cons. No job was perfect for me. I would just have to compromise like I had been raised to. But I’d still like to know the weight of the cons to determine if the compromise is worth it.

“There’s not enough sharks to study in the Angeles shore? That does sound like a tragedy.” He said and looked off to the shore.

“But.. a lot of people are scared to be, uh, emotionally open. So you’re not alone.”

“The problem there isn't the number of sharks, it's that studying sharks normally means following their travel patterns to understand them which is why they get tagged so you can help keep track. Though, realistically I'd be too much of a wuss and should just read books about them instead if I'm curious.” I further thought aloud then slightly huffed since the more I thought about it the more it seemed like a bad choice.

“And at least to me seems like other can be emotionally open enough to at least stay level headed and just not be like verbal about their emotions as opposed to me who decides attack is the best way to handle is and mocks people. To be fair you're very easy to mock. You're good at coming up with comebacks though, so I for Intelligent.” I replied and quickly changed the topic back to the game. I wasn’t really a fan of talking about my flaws, as shocking as that may seem.

He chuckled at my detailed explanation, “An honor to hear you to say that—even if you’ve also called me a moron tonight.”

“Please, over half of what I are are meaningless insults. You can't really take any of them to heart. Except for the dork ones. Those are true.”

“I kind of want to argue back, but I’m not sure how.”

“You can't because it's true. You're a big ol'dork. Just like I'm a big ol'nerd. We're both losers.” I said and put a thumb up.

He awkwardly smiled at me before putting my hand down, “Thanks.” He said before he just made eye contact. Is he thinking? Is there something on my face? Do I just look really bad right now? I heard moonlight was supposed to make people prettier? Fuck-fuck-fuck why is he staring at me? I flushed and looked away myself.

He cleared his throat and spoke up again, “Finally your first name is over. A for amusing.” Oh no such a long name 9 letters, oh the pain.

“But hey I still need to finish Christopher otherwise your middle name is just Chri. So I suppose you have to do Rose Marie now? Or just we need to discuss what to do.” I suggested since we really couldn’t progress without discussion.

“Wyatt Chri Schreave has a nice ring to it, but alright.” He paused then did a dramatic host voice, “Here comes the lightning round!” He said and acted like he had a microphone which he pointed at me.

I chuckled at his playful behavior before responding, “Alright. S for sarcastic. So fast, so speedy, like sonic.” I joked.

Wyatt however, was no longer playing, “R for rude.”

I got flustered and decided to make him suffer just the same and had to hold back from an evil grin as I knew just the way to, “It's not my fault that I'm rude. If you hadn't seduced me than I wouldn't be so defensive then I.E rude.”

Wyatt’s face quickly flushed giving me my revenge, “I DIDN'T SEDUCE ANYONE.”

“YOU SEDUCED ME WITH YOUR VASE HIDING, AND EYEBROW RAISING, IT WAS A SEDUCTION TACTIC!” I defended trying to play along but broke out into laughter unable to keep up my defensive act, “I'm sorry, I'm kidding, I don't victim blame.” I apologized through my laughter.

For his vengeance he decided to snap a picture of me without my consent as I laughed. Drunk or not I didn’t like pictures being taken of me. “NO! THAT'S SO RUDE.”

He then turned the camera to show me the picture. I didn’t look horrible, “I think it's nice.”

I pursed my lips as I thought deeply for a moment over if I should let this go or not. I grumbled as I decided, “Fine you can keep it but only because I look not horrible for once in it.”

He laughed then took another photo of the view in front of us, “You look not horrible in all the pictures I got of you at the library.”

“That would honestly surprised me. Considering I look bad in like all pictures. I'm pretty sure that's why Emma bribed me to apply for this too so there would be someone for sure with a worse picture than her.” He then looked at the photo and seemed unsatisfied with it. Great your very presence while he took it ruined his picture Gabby. Your powers have surpassed needing to even be in the photo.

“Your application had a nice picture.” He replied. I wonder if Ben gushed to him about the applications before we got here. Oh wow he probably read that I had a special skill for falling down and destroying things. I mean I didn’t know I was going to be picked. Over half of my application was a shit post I had scribbled in the car with Emma while hoping she didn’t kill us both.

“Maybe you looked slightly uncertain, but that was it.” He added.

“Lmao I was debating if I wanted a bagel or an omelette.” I then chuckled, “twas paid for.”

“Alright. You’re also O for original.”

“Um, it was my turn you're rude.” I then put a finger up to his lips to guarantee he wouldn’t take my turn again. “so T for talented and O for odd.”

He then put my hand down with my wrist and amped up to battle like this was the elementary school spelling bee. “S for sassy, E for enthusiastic.”

I scooted closer being sucked in by the intensity, “P for Passionate, H for honest, and uh-” I stammered as my brain with blank for E words, “-E for Eponymous.”

He opened his mouth to reply but then frowned, “Epo-what now?”

I chuckled evilly like. Hah. Hah. HAH. “I'm smarter than you. It means named after someone. I know because when my dad first told me I was named after Rosemary he called me eponymous.”

“Well then, M for maverick, A for athletic, R for Resilient, I for ingenuitive and E for... easygoing.” He said then got a smug look, “I win Gabriella Rose Marie.” This isn’t even supposed to be a contest but I can’t let him think he’s won anything.

“R for Red to finish Christopher then S is sassy, c is charismatic, H is handsome, R is realist, E is earnest, A is argumentative, V is veracious, and E is elegant. There I win now Wyatt Christopher Schreave. Full name done! Mic drop!”

He was shook for a moment but then snapped back into it, “You can't reuse my sassy! And your name is longer than mine!”

I counted on my fingers for a moment to double check his work, “Fine then I just need three more. Replace the S with S for Scary. Then I can use the junior, JR. J for Jazzy, R for rambunctious, and the P in the period(.) for prominent!” I said taking advantage of his junior status.

“REAL MATURE”

“HAHAH I WIN NOW LOSER!” I cheered before it suddenly started to sprinkle which put an end to my haughty victory and Wyatt’s fuming rage at losing like a sourpuss.

“Guess we have to go back inside.” He mumbled. I really liked the rain but it would probably be better we not risk illness. It’d be weird to explain when I was outside in the rain if I did get sick.

“Bye bye rain!” I cheered before trying to push myself back up from my seat on the ground swaying a bit at the dizzy world welcomed me back. Wyatt stood up first though and offered a hand to me. I took it gladly and leaned on him a bit.

I looked up at him for a moment, he was flustered, probably because I had my body leaning on him, “Oh yeah wyatt, I have a serious question.” I started.

He replied without looking down at me as he took us in, “What's that?”

“Do you think I could beat you in an arm wrestle? I mean i'm pretty strong. I did tennis and basketball. That helps. My legs are better than me-” hiccup, “-arms, but still.”

He laughed a bit, “I think my arms are stronger than yours.”

“I don't think so. Why would they be? Do you work out?” I asked. Or maybe idk Gabby, because you’re a 5’1 female so even if you work out as much as Wyatt you physically can’t be as strong as him because of body mass?

“We’re not there yet in our friendship Gabriella.” He joked but then raised an eyebrow, “Do I really look that lazy? I mean, I’m not the strongest guy out there but that’s just hurting my ego.” I felt a bit bad. He was probably joking and I mean I had a good reason for thinking I might be stronger than him, I’m a pretty freaking athletic person. I work out a lot. So it’s not like I was comparing him to say a bum.

“Sorry, your suits don't show off too much if there is any muscle and you just don't strike me as a gym type of person.” I said and plopped down on the bed. I was still holding onto his hand from earlier so I quickly grabbed the other and tried to pull him onto the bed to test it to see if I really were stronger than him since. I didn’t get too far though and only resulted in him bending forward a bit.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Well you weren't going to tell me so I thought, may as well just try.” I replied with my drunken logic. I let go of his hands and laid back down in the bed, “Worth a shot.” I sighed.

“I want more winnnneeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.” I complained as I rolled in his bed.

He grumbled something before he went to put his camera back, “You’re not drinking more.”

I quickly felt more and more drowsy and his bed smelled so nice so I grabbed his covers and decided to let myself go to sleep, “My bed now. Goodnight.”

THE NEXT MORNING

I shot up in bed in an unfamiliar room. I quickly looked around and saw Wyatt sleeping on a beanie bag and pictures. I much be in Wyatts room. I exhaled in relief. OH GOD I’M IN WYATTS ROOM! What if someone sees me? What if someone saw me come here? It had to be late last I remember I was watching twilight? OH GOD WHAT IF I TOLD HIM I LIKE HIM.

I quickly got up and crouched down next to Wyatt on the bean bag. I gently poked his arm, “Hey Wyatt?” I said softly. He didn’t wake so I knew I would need more dirastic measures. I leaned in close right next to his ear. “WYATT!!” I yelled then regretted right away as a sharp pain kicked me in the head. Hangover, “Oh-FUCK!” I yelled which just made me hurt more as Wyatt let out a yelp and fell out of the bean bag.

He was incredibly red in the face, why? Was it embarrassing to wake up? “What's wrong with you?” He asked me.

“You didn't wake up the first time! I had to try more drastic methods!” I yelled before I felt the hangover again and put a hand on my head. I then took a deep breath in, “I have no idea why I came her last night or I drank way too much so quick question….” I paused trying to think of a non obvious way to ask, “.....did I tell you anything like embarrassing like about a slip'n slide made of sauce, or the time I ate a lemon whole on accident? Also your maids will probably be in soon which is why i woke you and it'd look weird if they found you on a beanie.”

He stared up at me completely stunned, “slip’n—” He paused. “You don’t remember anything from last night?”

I thought for a moment and tried to remember, “Twilight. I was watching twilight. Now I'm here-” I shrugged, “-I really drank too much-- Stress from family stuff.”

“No doubt, no doubt. No embarrassing childhood stories were brought up, don’t worry.” He said and looked up at me quickly before looking away again. OH NO DID I DROOL? DO I HAVE DROOL ON MY FACE?

“Um, so,” He said and stood up quickly, “You better head back before it's too late.”

I chuckled, “Oh yeah, it'd be difficult to explain why I wasn't in my room or why I'm in here if either of our maids get there before us.” I then looked around for my flats from last night slipped them on then made my way to the door, “See you at breakfast. Good look controlling the foul air.” I said smiling contently proud that I had controlled my tongue while drunk last night. Maybe I wasn’t horrible at keeping secrets while drunk. I had avoided it because of that but maybe last night was proof that I have enough self control to drink like a normal adult. I then gave him a quick wave and headed back to my room.

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