#although knowing Farewell that might have happened multiple times

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than Cerebi

I'm part way through Farewell. How far? I don't know, because in any other level I would already be at the end. Farewell is really really long. The checkpoint I'm on is called "Stubbornness" and the plot doesn't seem like it's wrapping up any time soon. It's taking me like an hour per checkpoint, so I'm tackling each one in separate play sessions. The screens are hard. But I will win.

Also (mild spoilers),

I'm not sure what the intended flavor behind the double dash crystals is, but I'm interpreting them as "If you can't achieve self-acceptance naturally, store-bought is fine"

[stitchchin]

Chisholm Drive of 1873

Huskerdust cattle drive AU.

TW: Period-Typical Homophobia.

___________________

Husk leaned against an old, definitely unstable, wooden fence in desperate need of fixing. It was sunrise on the morning of March 3, 1873 and he could almost feel a bad omen for the herd of cattle he was about to take along the Chisholm trail. The sun looked favorable, or as favorable as it could be in Texas, upon the horizon while it slowly casted the earth with its warmth. Although to Husk, the sun seems to cast the world with doubt, dread and displeasure. The Leon River looked dazzling in the morning light, as the herd of longhorns he was transporting drank up their last bit of water before the twenty mile day ahead. The trail, of course, had plenty of water sources but it could be an entire day before they happened across another one.

Today, Husk and his group of fellow contracted cowmen were to start the over 500 mile journey to Abilene, Kansas in order to deliver 1521 market-ready longhorns to be sold into the, currently booming, meat market. As the trail boss, Husk was currently waiting for his other cowmen to say their final goodbyes to their normal life before heading out on their multiple week or even month journey. His cook, in particular, was taking a very long time while saying farewell to his sister Molly.

His name was Anthony, or Angel, as he had heard Molly call him just a minute ago. Husk wasn’t exactly eavesdropping but the pair of them were talking so goddamn loud that he could hear them from across the plain he was standing atop.

“I know, but I’ll have Fat Nuggets!” Anthony distantly said- no more screamed- to Molly. Husk wasn’t sure why Anthony needed to be so loud in order to have a simple conversation with his beloved twin sister.

“Please, just be careful. Herding is dangerous. Especially on the Chisholm. Remember that I love you, Anthony. You can’t die out there!” Molly exclaimed, but Anthony just laughed it off.

“This is not my first herd i'm delivering in Abilene. We’ll be fine.” Anthony's accent was more reminiscent of west Texas, a contrast to Husk’s Louisiana and East Texas mush he had. Husk had grown up, on his own ranch of course, with just his Mom. The two of them lived near the border between Louisiana and Texas and he sounded like it. His family had been taking care of that ranch ever since civil war times.

“Hey! Cookie! Get your ass ready quick now. Say your goodbyes and be done with it.” Anthony needed to get the chuck wagon ready for the drive today- though he supposed he could have gone about it nicer. A happy cook meant a good drive. He would likely be staying up later and getting up earlier than even some longhorns on this drive. “Yeah, yeah.” Anthony grumbled.

After a bit longer talking to Molly, Anthony gave her a final tight hug and they parted ways. Anthony made his way over to the chuck wagon to do a last look through of their supplies, and started saddling up his mustang. So, Husk made his way over to the less than pleased cook.

“What's its name?” Husk asked.

“What?”

“The name. What is your horse’s name?” Husk asked again.

“Fat Nuggets”

There was a beat of silence.

“What.”

“The horse’s name. It's Fat Nuggets.”

“Yeah. I got that. I just didn’t like it” Husk sighed. His horse's name was Angoliath, and while that might not be much better, it was still damn sure better than Fat Nuggets. “Why on god's green earth did you name your mustang Fat Nuggets?” Husked asked, incredulous.

Anthony paused for a minute after this and thought, as if contemplating whether or not to tell Husk the truth. “I don’t know. I wasn’t the one who named him. He belonged to a close… acquaintance… before he was my horse. The previous owner named him” Anthony answered honestly. Mostly.

“Well your acquaintance was real fucking stupid.” Husk jabbed.

“Don’t I know it.” whatever that meant.

__________

The group had been traveling for four hours now after leaving the ranch at around seven A.M. Husk was leading the herd of longhorns and men in the front of the group, isolated from his other cowmen, as was his job as the trail boss. This left Husk with quite a bit of silent thinking time in which he got to smell the sweet aroma of livestock and look out upon the rich landscapes of Texas. Husk could not stop thinking about Anthony and his unintentional humor, those leather chaps (that showed his ass perfectly),his wide brimmed hat and million dollar smile. It was a real shame that he was working as a cowman and not off in some other more glamorous state, living a glamorous life with a glamorous girl on his arm.

On this particular cattle drive, Husk’s group consisted of One point man leading the herd at the front, but behind Husk taking directions from him when needed. The point man was named Alastor and Husk thought his smile was creepy as fuck but he seemed to know what he was doing. Then, two swing men- or women- Vaggie and Charlie. Charlie was on the left and Vaggie was on the right of either side of the herd, both about a third of the way back from the point man. Husk had only spent a little bit of time with those two since leaving for this journey but he was ninety percent sure something was queer about them. In more ways than one. Behind them were two flanks, Sir Pentous and Cherri Bomb, who were responsible for turning away any strays and keeping the herd in a line formation. Cherri Bomb weirded Husk out but somehow Sir Pentious weirded Husk out even more. Both seemed like they did not belong in the middle of ‘Buttfuck Nowhere, Texas’ on a cattle drive, but he supposed that he belonged back home gambling with his friends in the local saloon so he chose not to question it.

In the very back of the large herd, behind all the cattle were three ‘dust eaters' or the drags. God he almost felt bad for those guys if he didn't already feel so bad for poor Anthony. They had, in his opinion, the second worst job. They ride behind the giant herd keeping the slower cattle moving and getting bombarded with the dust that 1521 cattle kicked up. That was Nifty who seemed a little off her rocker, Emily who was probably the only normal person here, and finally a slightly off putting woman named Rosie. Overall though, all three seemed to have good intentions and Husk knew if it came to it he could count on them.

Off to the side of the herd was Anthony driving the chuckwagon. His job was the worst in the group. He was responsible for cooking for them and would most likely be battling sleep deprivation the entire time as well. Behind Anthony was the wrangler who was in charge of taking care of all the extra Mustangs that they had on the drive. His name was Lucifer which Husk found hilarious. When he asked his real name, though, he just looked at Husk and changed the topic.

This group was definitely the strangest he had ever rode with and this was also his first drive being a Trail Boss. In some ways the job was pretty nice. Nobody argued with him (unless they wanted to lose their job) and he enjoyed the sense of independence he got from it. He was directing their group, selecting daily routes and making any decisions while out on the drive. It did some with a certain pressure to it. If anybody died out here, he would feel personally responsible. With some of the dumb fucks in this group, he wouldnt be suprised if one of them somehow did lose their life as well.

__________

“This ain’t half bad.” Husk bit into a particularly edible piece of beef. It wasn’t great but it was edible and he couldn't really expect much to be great when it came out of a damn chuck wagon. His cookie, Anthony, had made the group beef, beans, biscuits, and of course coffee.

“I’m just happy that we're gettin’ meat tonight. Don't get used to it.” Anthony replied. The group let out some chuckles. “Maybe on our last night together in however many weeks I'll cook up some meat, desert, and I’ll buy us some alcohol.” Anthony thought aloud.

“I, for one, am very on board with that plan” Cherri Bomb chipped in, and a couple others hummed in agreement.

The air was lively for the entirety of dinner, and Husk had (surprisingly) enjoyed conversation with most there. After their meal time, Husk volunteered for the first watch and most others went to their respective bed rolls. Except for Anthony, who was still packing up the chuck wagon in order to make breakfast tomorrow and was positively exhausted. Husk, however, thought he looked ravishing even covered in dirt and grime.

“Hey.” What the fuck was wrong with him.

“Hi.” Amthony sent him a tight lipped smile.

“How did you end up being a cook?” Husk asked, trying to break the very clear ice between them. Anthony looked up at Husk, who was adjusting his saddle and rifle on his horse getting ready for his two hour watch tonight.

“Why do you ask? What about you? How did you become a Segundo?” Anthony asked rather defensively.

Goddammit, Husk had to admit, the way Anthony said ‘Segundo’ was downright sexy. But he couldn't be thinking those kinds of thoughts out here. Or anywhere. For years now he had been trying to find the right woman to marry back home and ignore his very obvious attraction to men. If Anthony kept being so attractive, Husk had no idea how he would keep his rather sinful thoughts to himself. But he had to. Anthony could turn him into the authorities, or worse, tell his family and friends he was a queer.

“Number one, I ain’t no Segundo. I’m above that now, ya hear. And number two, I ain’t mean no harm. I just rarely see a cookie who's not as old as time or too injured to do anything else.” Vaguely Husk wondered if he sounded like he was trying too hard to be aloof and nonchalant.

Anthony fully turned to him now, “My mama taught me how to cook, and I was never too good at riding or shooting anyways. When she sent me off to find work as a cowmen this was the position I was most qualified for. And I can make a mean gravy.” He flashed one of his infuriatingly perfect smiles at Husk, though something about it seemed fake.

“She ‘sent you off’? What happened?” Husk was definitely using this as an excuse to get to know his, rather attractive, fellow cowboy.

“She thought I was involved with the… wrong crowd. Caught me doing stuff I shouldn’t have been up to.” Anthony left it vague and it was all too clear that he wasn’t in any kind of mood to talk about it. His body language was stiff and suddenly he was avoiding all eye contact. Husk now turned towards him, leaving his work behind momentarily.

“Listen kid, I know we barely know each other but it seems like you've had it hard. If you need someone to just listen to you or offer any advice I’m here. As your trail boss, it’s my job to keep y’all healthy and happy and alive. If you need to let it all out in order to fulfill the ‘happy’ requirement then you can lay it all on me. Anytime.” Husk tried to sound sincere but it was made significantly harder due to how tired he was at the moment. For a moment, something akin to tears and sadness made its way onto Anthony's face before it was pushed aside.

“Thank you Husk. That means a lot.” Anthony sincerely replied.

“Of course.”

“I ain’t a kid though.” Anthony teased.

“What? How old are you?” Anthony had to be no older than eighteen.

“I’m twenty-eight.” Anthony replied with the most serious tone Husk has heard on him yet.

“Well I’ll be damned. I’m thirty. I can’t fucking believe we are only two years apart.” Husk's eyes had to be as wide as Alastor’s creepy ass smile. Anthony looked youthful, untouched by the stressors of a normal cowmans life. Like getting attacked and killed.

“No shit? I thought you had to be at least forty!” Anthony poked fun at him.

“Alright you little shit. You’re lucky that I’m feeling particularly exhausted tonight or else I’d rock your shit.” Husk grumbled.

“I’d like to see you try” Anthony sticked his tongue at him, like a six year old.

“Consider it a promise then. Next time you get on my nerves.” Despite his threat, Husk was smiling. This was the first time in a long time Husk had truly enjoyed talking to someone. Both during the entirety of dinner, and now while he was fixing to go on watch.

“I’ll look forward to it then, old man.” Anthony replied, coolly. Husk just shook his head, that same dumb smile still on his face, and mounted the Mustang. This one was named ‘Arwen’, a weird name in his opinion, but he was traveling with a man named Lucifer and a woman named Cherri Bomb so he supposed he could ignore it.

“I enjoyed talking tonight.” Husk nodded towards Anthony before using his spurs to encourage Arwen into a trot towards the herd he was supposed to be watching 10 minutes ago.

“I’ll look out for our next!” Anthony called after him.

Come to think of it, if anybody else had called Husk ‘old man’ like Anthony did a minute ago he would either force them to take his watch in his place or just straight up fire them. But Husk could already tell Anthony was going to be an exception.

___________________

Lmk if y’all liked this because I have a general plane for 5 chapters. Just need to know if I should write them or not! If you see any issues or have constructive criticism please let me know. Can’t find a beta reader so it’s all me lol. I don’t use tumblr very often, so I am sorry if this was formatted weird or something. You can find me on ao3 under the name “StitchFace1708”. Thank you.

[psychotakublabs]

“Through the Looking Glass Ruins” definitely gave us more Lumity than we all expected and the B-plot of Amity and Luz’s story in this episode was written very well. Their awkward interactions and new found feelings for each other pave a way for LGBTQ young love in animation. It also gives us Luz and Amity character development, small hints at insecurities and conflicting emotions, and normalizing queer teen romances. I have seen multiple interpretations and analyses of their plot and I wanna analyze Luz and Amity from the three important scenes: Inside the Library, Outside the Library, and Blight Manor.

Inside the Library

First we have Luz knocking on Gus’s door to use Gus’s library card. It seems this is not the first time as she admits she isn’t hiding her crush very well and Gus agrees. Although she is going to the library to find Philip’s journal on the portal, she does get sidetracked with her crush on Amity. Even the twins notice both have a crush on each other but instead of teasing them about it, they just leave them alone. It seems everyone knows Luz and Amity have feelings for each other except those two and not because they are oblivious about it. It’s because Amity is still trying to figure out her own feelings and Luz isn’t sure if Amity likes her back or is afraid of losing her friendship because of these feelings.

Amity and Luz’s interactions are awkward and anxious because they have a crush on each other. That is completely normal in young love and it’s done very well here. They become flustered and weird when seeing each other and once in close contact with each other immediately separate. This is very well written and boarded becaused it normalizes queer crushes. Usually it's either the two characters fall in love immediately with no development or it's one sided. Not with Amity and Luz as they are confused lovestruck teenagers who are navigating these new found feelings for each other. Like a lot of teens, having a crush is confusing and awkward and having two queer characters (Luz is bisexual and Amity is lesbian) having developing feelings and normlazing those interactions shows queer teens and kids it's normal and okay to have these feelings.

Most interesting in their adventures in the library is the Amity and Luz character development.

First off Luz becomes less impulsive of her actions because she worries about Amity losing her job. While at the doorway to the Forbidden Stacks, Luz reassures herself and says she will find another way. After her conversation with Amity in the Forbidden Stacks, she says they should head back and doesn't want to push Amity. Usually Luz is impulsive in her actions. In the Human Realm, she does things without thinking first and that's caused a lot of trouble for others. Because she knows Amity could lose her job if caught, Luz thinks before diving into danger so she doesn't hurt Amity. This is development for Luz because it shows her thinking about her actions before doing so and how it might affect others. This isn't the first time either she has shown this development but it's very prominent in this episode and shows how much she cares about Amity.

Amity has become more impulsive in her actions lately. Despite knowing she could lose her job in the library, she still helps Luz in getting into the Forbidden Stacks. This irrational behavior is because of Amity's feelings towards Luz. When Luz mentions a possible date with Amity to the Human Realm, she ignores Luz's hesitation to go further and rushes to get the diary, dragging Luz with her. Amity is worried about losing her job but pushes through because she knows how important this diary is to Luz and her feelings for her cloud her rational judgment (not ignoring her development throughout the series that has also impacted her but just focusing on the episode).

Outside the Library

After Amity is fired, Luz immediately apologizes but Amity stops her. Both have become upset from the incident but for different reasons. (This analysis/interpretation mostly comes from halcyonhyacinth on Twitter and Tumblr. I highly recommend following her. Awesome writer!) (https://psychotakublabs.tumblr.com/post/656478634193928192/all-of-this-this-scene-was-so-powerful-and-well)

Amity is upset because she did lose her job but also because of her conflicting emotions and actions. "Being around you makes me do stupid things and I wish it didn't." Amity was raised in a family environment that emphasised high standards and perfection. Before Luz showed up, she had to be perfect to live up to her parent's expectations and had to think about her actions as well as control her emotions. However, Luz has changed her perspectives on life and Amity's new found feelings for Luz makes her become more impulsive to help Luz. Because Luz is her first crush, she is still navigating these feelings that make her do the opposite of what she normally does. Amity has every right to be upset because she lost her job and somewhat blames Luz for it because of her new found feelings. It's not till she sees Luz cry and hears her say she does the same does she realize her feelings may not be strange and one sided. Now lots have interpreted this interaction as a confession which is a part of it. But it is more of a confession of vulnerability and confusion than love, but that doesn’t mean it could have come out as having feelings for one another as well. Another part of Amity’s reactions is how Amity has affected Luz to the point she is upset as well (maybe even thinking her words hurt Luz) and that her feelings and actions are similar. Instead of taking her frustration out on Luz, she decides to go home to calm down and think more about her feelings. Amity is still dealing with her budding feelings towards Luz and it's understandable why she is so upset both from being fired and her conflicting emotions.

Luz is afraid she will lose Amity because she got her fired. After Amity says she does stupid things when around Luz and wish she didn’t do them, Luz is so upset she cries. This is probably related to her experiences in the Human Realm. In the Human Realm, Luz’s impulsive actions have freaked out others and is used to others pushing her away. Luz is starting to develop feelings for Amity and she is scared she has pushed her away because of her reckless behavior. This is different from the Human Realm because Luz truly cares for Amity and doesn’t want to lose her as a friend. Luz tries to reassure Amity she is not the only one who acts rash. When Amity leaves, Luz pushes her insecurities and sadness aside to get Amity’s job back. We are seeing more of Luz’s insecurities from the Human Realm throughout Season 2. For example, Luz feels guilty about Eda losing her powers and goes on a life threatening journey to make it up to her in “Separate Tides”. This probably stemmed from her experiences with her mom in the Human Realm whenever she got in trouble and burdened her mother. In “Through the Looking Glass Ruins”, fear of losing Amity comes from her experience of others pushing her away and is afraid it will happen with Amity. Luz has a lot of self-blame because of her prolonged experiences in the Human Realm. However, Luz pushes those feelings down to make it up to Amity by getting her job back. Although Luz did mess up and cost Amity her job, she is willing to amend her mistakes not only to make Amity happy but because she truly cares for her even if she loses her as a friend.

Blight Manor

Amity and Emira have a heart to heart conversation about Amity’s feelings towards Luz. She confesses that these new feelings towards Luz are confusing and scare her because she has never had these thoughts and emotions before. Emira reassures her it’s okay to have these feelings since it makes her happier. After brushing her hair, Emira notices Amity is still conflicted and brings up her roots showing and offering to re-dye her hair. Amity decides to cut and dye her hair purple. This is important in Amity’s development because she wants to be independent from her mother’s control and become the person she wants to be by doing something she wants. Even if she will get in trouble or others don’t like it, she is willing to have a fresh start as the person she wants to be. In fiction and real life, changing hair styles can be symbolic of changing one’s self and a powerful message of being who you want to be. What may seem like a small step is actually a huge achievement for Amity because changing her hair, that was once being forced to dye green for color coordination by her mother, to a shorter cut and purple color is her way of acting on her own and being the person she wants to be.

Luz was ready to face rejection from Amity but was willing to at least give her job back. Luz has shown time and time again how far she will go to help her friends. She even understood why Amity would want to push her away and was prepared for it. What she was not prepared for was seeing Amity’s new look. After explaining how she got Amity’s job back, Amity notices the echo mouse and Luz catches the little pest. After seeing the echo mouse shows Philip’s first diary entry, Luz thanks the mouse and hopes they can be friends. It’s great to see how far Luz will go to help her friends, even if she is the one who caused the mistake.

After Amity notices Luz’s kindness (looking at her library card), she decides to be bold and give Luz a kiss on the cheek. Both are shocked at what just happened. Amity becomes flustered, bids Luz farewell “forever”, and wonders why she kissed Luz on the cheek. Again, Amity is still confused with her crush on Luz and needs time to sort those feelings out. Luz becomes more smitten with Amity and falls to the ground. She probably never thought Amity would reciprocate her feelings or think Amity may have the same feelings. In the Human Realm, Luz is used to being pushed away and Amity kissing her on the cheek is so shocking, she goes weak and falls on her knees. This is a first for Luz as well as she is navigating her feelings towards Amity. Both may know they have feelings towards each other. However, neither one is going to admit it for a while because these feelings are new to them. For Amity, her crush is entirely new to her and she has to figure out what they are and how she wants to move forward with them. With Luz, her feelings towards Amity are mostly about accepting the fact it’s not one-sided and to figure out how she wants to act on these feelings. Both need to navigate their own feelings first before moving further in their relationship. I am curious as to how they will interact after that scene, because both have to realize that kiss was beyond platonic and it may get more awkward for them later in the series. We will have to wait a while before getting more Lumity progress in “The Owl House”

The Lumity in this episode was written and animated very well and is important for viewers and future animated series. First off, is the fact a Disney animated series shows a main cast progressing as an LGBTQ couple in the middle of a series. LGTBQ couples/soon-to-be couples/characters in children’s animation are usually confirmed at the end of the series, never confirmed at all but hinted (queerbaiting), background characters with little screen time, villains, or killed off. It’s both unbelievable yet wonderful to see an LGBTQ couple, especially with two teen characters, become canon. Not imaginative from fanfiction or made canon in comics but in the series at the beginning of Season 2. This is huge because not many networks, let alone one as big as Disney, have confirmed an LGBTQ character and couple early on in a show. I have hope that it will give inspiration to other major studios to follow suit with more stories with representation like “The Owl House”. One of my favorite aspects of Lumity in the series is it normalizes queer young love. This includes the complexities of newfound feelings of young love and navigation of first love. There is little to no animated series, at least in children’s animation, that have characters like Amity and Luz having feelings for each other and navigating those feelings in the middle of the series. It shows queer children and teens it’s okay to feel this way because it’s normal! Just like how it is normal for heterosexual teens to have the same feelings and actions to young love. To some it may not be a big deal, but as someone who came out as a lesbian at age 13 (2006-2007) and lives off of cartoons, anime, manga, comics, and books, there was basically nothing that felt close to how my high school experiences of young romance were. It is very refreshing and hopeful to see young LGTBQ youth see a Disney show have canon queer characters and the main cast a canon queer couple with normalized and realistic experiences. How it’s confusing but wonderful to have these feelings like everyone else. “The Owl House” continues to push the boundaries of children’s animation and the queer representation is continuing to be phenominal and wonderful!

[the-modernmary]

always been a storm || hotchley (ch 1)

summary: Lots of people wondered about their love story. How they met, how they fell in love, and even how they fell apart. Haley likes to tell their story from end to beginning. Aaron tells it from the beginning to end. Somewhere along the way, they meet, and it always ends with a goodbye.

Author’s Note: This is inspired by the musical The Last Five Years, so I will be following that format. If you aren't familiar with it, it is told in opposite chronological directions from both character's POVs. So Haley's POV will start at the end of the relationship and move backwards, while Hotch's POV is going to start at the beginning and move forward. Hopefully it should be clear as you read. Also, since the writers couldn't decide how old Hotch was, I sort of played around with the years/canon timeline. But canon is just a suggestion anyway.

read on ao3

Haley - 2009

Haley Brooks once told her sister about a boy who kissed her at the Pirates of Penzance cast party. She had said that she could see herself with this boy for the rest of her life and, when the couple got engaged five years later, Haley told her sister that she just knew that she was going to love this boy until the day she died.

Haley Hotchner never could have expected it would end like this: a serial killer, gun pressed to her temple, on the phone with her husband — ex-husband — and no way to protect her 5-year-old son, the little miracle she and Aaron never thought they were going to get.

“Tell Jack I need him working the case,” Aaron says through the phone, voice shaking, and Haley has no idea what Aaron could possibly mean by that.

“What?” she asks, even though she knows it’s futile. Years of chasing down serial killers and getting into their minds has made Aaron paranoid. He has backup plans for the backup plans of their backup plans. He has safety plans for anything that could possibly go wrong, some that even Haley doesn’t know, and this must just be another one of those plans.

Aaron repeats himself a little more forcefully, and that’s when Haley knows it’s over for her. At least Aaron is still alive, and not dead like she had been told he was. At least Jack won’t be completely orphaned. It was a small comfort.

 If Jack survives, her brain reminds her unhelpfully, but she pushes that thought down. For all of Aaron’s faults, he’d never let anything happen to Jack. And if the only person Aaron saves is Jack, then Haley can die peacefully. 

  When she hugs Jack, she doesn’t even realize how tightly she’s holding him until he tells her, and it’s with reluctance that she loosens her grip. Logically, she knows it’s safer for Jack to go off and do whatever Aaron told him to do, but the motherly side of her brain is screaming to hold her baby boy to her chest and never let him go. She can keep him safe and protected from the world, she just knows it. She’s protected him this long from the reality of the world - fed him stories of villains and superheroes to try and explain where his dad was and why his dad so often woke up in tears - so she can do it just a while more.

And if she can’t protect him, she selfishly wants to keep Jack close to her for a little longer, for both of their sakes. For Jack, she wants his last memory of her to be one of happiness and love — a final hug from his mom who loves him so, so much. For Haley, well, she needs that last bit of bravery. Aaron keeps telling her to be brave and to not show The Reaper any weakness, but she’s never been that person. She’s always been the emotional and dramatic one of the marriage.

(If she had more time, she might have considered that, no, she actually wasn’t the dramatic one and that up until the bitter end, she had been reasonable and willing to compromise, and it was Aaron who believed the weight of humanity was on his shoulders, despite the fact that he was nothing more than a man. But no one would ever believe that Aaron Hotchner was overemotional, and like most things, it’s just easier to put it on Haley.)

As if reading her mind, Aaron’s voice cuts through the silence. “You’re so strong, Haley, stronger than I ever was,” he assures her, and she can’t find the right words to say, not when her mind is racing a million miles a minute.

 She thinks of her sister, her best friend in the whole world, and how she never got to say goodbye. They had been planning on taking Jack on a weekend camping trip when Haley got pulled into WitSec. There had been no fanfare, no tearful farewell. Just a nondescript car from the hospital to a nondescript building where Haley Brooks went to disappear. She wasn't able to tell Jessica that she loves her or to thank her for everything she had given up for Haley. Now Jessica was going to lose her little sister.

And her dad… God, the last thing Haley did with her dad was fight with him. It was something so stupid, too — Roy had insisted on Jack going into Pop Warner football even after Haley had told him multiple times that she didn’t want Jack starting in such a high contact sport so early on in his life. They had gone back and forth on it for close to an hour before Haley had stormed out in tears because if she had to hear one more word about “Jack needs to develop tougher skin” and “he should be around more male figures, it'll be good for him” as if it was Haley’s fault that Aaron didn’t make it to see Jack the past two weeks, she was going to lose it.

God, she was so bone-deep, achingly exhausted of everything always being her fault. 

“You’ll hurry, right?” she asks, eyes never leaving the Reaper. He’s stalking across the room, gun hanging lazily at his side.

 “I know you didn’t sign on for this,” Aaron starts, and it’s not lost on Haley that he avoided her question.

Still, she doesn’t need an explicit answer from him. The Reaper is behind her now, his hot breath creeping down her neck and the column of her spine, meeting perfectly halfway with the tip of his gun. “Neither did you.”

The conversation somehow switched from comfort to a goodbye without either of them ever realizing it. “I’m sorry for everything.”

The cold steel of The Reaper’s gun nudges against Haley’s back. A braver, tougher person than Haley might have fought back - might have elbowed him in the gut and kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine and escaped - but Haley’s accepted her fate. All she’s able to do now is grip the phone a little tighter. It’s the closest thing she has to holding Aaron’s hand one last time.

“Promise me that you will tell him how we met,” she starts, and her voice becomes steadier and more confident than it had in years, “and how you used to make me laugh.”

“Haley…”

She thinks back to the Aaron she met in high school - tall and lanky and smiling despite already feeling like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. She hadn’t seen him smile in so long. Aaron always believed himself to be a protector, and Haley knows that he already blames himself for Sean and Gideon and Spencer. God only knows how far he’ll spiral after this.

“He needs to know that you weren’t always so serious, Aaron.” She takes a grounding breath and says the next part to him directly, hoping that he’ll understand what’s unspoken. “I want him to believe in love. Because it is the most important thing. But you need to show him. Promise me.”

There’s a long pause that makes Haley’s stomach drop. A million things still need to be said, but she can’t bring herself to say them. She can’t even think, not when she hears the click of The Reaper’s gun cocking. She can’t be brave any longer.

The air in the room seems to get thinner, and Haley gasps desperately to try and get a breath while tears stream freely down her face. She’s going to die alone and Aaron and her son are going to hear it and oh God, Jack is going to be in the house with Foyet and nobody to protect him. Her one job as a mother is to protect her child and she’s going to die a failure. 

They both know what’s going to happen next, but in his own bit of stubbornness, Aaron doesn’t say goodbye. It’s not what she wants to hear, anyway. He decides to give her comfort, a promise that he’ll see through her final wishes, although it’s not the first promise he’s made and broken. Haley wishes she could go out believing him.

BANG

Haley cries out in pain, falling to her knees as white hot pain spreads like a fire through her abdomen. The phone drops out of her hands, but that doesn’t stop her from calling out for Aaron. 

“Aaron… Aaron, help me… Please,” she begs through tears. She wants to hear his voice again, to tell her that it’s going to be okay and that he’s about to burst through the front doors and save her. She wants to hear him say goodbye and that he loves her. 

All she gets is silence from Aaron’s end. The only proof she gets that he’s still on the line is the rumble of the SUV he’s in. Black spots dance in the corners of her vision, so she can only barely make out the Reaper towering above her and the barrel of the gun being pointed towards her face.

Haley calls out for Aaron again, unable to say anything but his name through her sobs. It’s useless to beg for her life, she knows that, yet she still tries. Tries to reach out to him and tell him how sorry she is. Sorry for not being stronger and for not protecting Jack. 

The Reaper raises his gun, and Haley immediately wishes that she had said more to Aaron. She wants him to know that she never stopped loving him and that she doesn’t blame him one bit and that if she had the chance to go back, even knowing how it all was going to end, she absolutely would because Aaron is all—

BANG

[shipping-receiving]

“Is there a chance you won’t be okay?”

An Analysis of Hwang Si-mok and Han Yeo-jin’s Final Scene in Stranger/Secret Forest Season 2

Alright, it’s been almost a week, I’m still crying every time I re-watch this scene, and somehow I’ve written 3,500 words about five minutes of this damn show, so here we go:

As with Stranger/Secret Forest Season 1, Si-mok and Yeo-jin’s final scene in Season 2 ended with a farewell meal, complete with soju. On a very basic level, this meal felt significant in a season where Si-mok was subject, more than ever, to interrupted meals or meals he didn’t particularly want to be present for – at least until he was able to have a drink with Yeo-jin in 2x12, and then lunch with her in 2x13.

More importantly, though, this scene is the most loaded scene we’ve ever witnessed between these two characters. That’s saying something for such a nuanced, detail-oriented show, in which two people placing their phones in a storage locker at a detention centre can possess such emotional weight, particularly when played by two actors who make very subtle and sophisticated acting choices.

I’m struck particularly by the way this scene bursts with subtext – things unsaid and unresolved – when Lee Soo-yeon could just as easily have written a neater, more light-hearted exchange that reaffirmed their connection, more along the lines of their final scene in 1x16. There are a thousand other ways their farewell could have been presented to us that would have given a greater or at least a more comfortable sense of finality, even taking into account their character development over this season. This lack of resolution is evident not just from what happened during the scene, but also when the scene happened within the episode itself. The meal occurred after Yeo-jin had been bullied by her colleagues, but before she met her new boss – at this point, it seemed to the viewer that her promotion would likely bring not the pride she experienced in S1, but more challenges and isolation.

More so than the Seo Dong-jae cliffhanger, this scene makes me think that this was written with a future Season 3 arc in mind, one in which Si-mok and Yeo-jin’s relationship will continue to evolve and deepen substantially (whether that will be ‘romantic’ remains to be seen). Considering they’re the core partnership of this series, there was a deliberate withholding of stability in their farewell, rather than an affirmation of it. I won’t go so far as to say destabilisation – because despite their separation, I think their bond is more profound than ever – but at the bare minimum an absence of certainty, when it could have been written otherwise.

Anyway, on to the breakdown:

The scene opens with Si-mok carefully folding a napkin and placing cutlery on it for Yeo-jin, a simple gesture of care that Cho Seung-woo plays with a startlingly gentle attentiveness. Immediately, it signals that there’s been a shift in Si-mok – how he’s able, at least with Yeo-jin, to do something that isn’t just polite, but also thoughtful. The director even snuck in a little clue that Si-mok is thinking of Yeo-jin as he’s doing this – Yeo-jin actually appears at the left side of the frame from the start, as the camera pans over to Si-mok: 

In this shot, Si-mok is visually separated from Yeo-jin by a pillar. This could be read on the one hand as a kind of sectioning out of his mental space – a visualisation of his thoughts of her as he prepares her cutlery – and on the other hand, as a foreshadowing of their impending separation. (I do, however, enjoy the first interpretation more. It reminds me a little bit of her sketch of the inside of his head from 1x06.)

Back to the napkin: if you look closer, Si-mok didn’t fold a napkin for himself – his spoon and chopsticks are on the table next to his bowl – so this isn’t just a matter of neatly setting the table for their meal. In a very small way, he’s anticipating her needs, just as she has done with him in much more demonstrative ways in both seasons (helping him with his headaches being the most obvious one). This isn’t something he’s necessarily actively worked on in the past two years; he’s still the person who doesn’t instinctively say ‘hello’ over the phone, or ask after someone’s kids without being reminded. Yet, it’s a capacity for care that has expanded significantly, at least where Yeo-jin is concerned.

Compare his behaviour with the equivalent scene in 1x16 – back then, he only ordered a bowl of noodles for himself and not for her. Interestingly, Yeo-jin’s comment to Si-mok during that part of the S1 scene was, “Gosh, you haven’t changed one bit,” suggesting that he was, by nature, somehow unable to be considerate to someone else. Just from the opening to the S2 scene, we see that that comment is not or no longer true, at least when it comes to the way he acts around her. In both the S1 and S2 scenes, he was the first person to arrive for their meal; in S1, the first thing he said was, “Why are you late?” and had already ordered his soju and noodles. This time, however, Yeo-jin asks him, “Why didn’t you order something first?” – implying that although she was late again, he was patiently waiting for her to arrive.

There’s also a difference in the way he responds to her appearance. Now, I personally don’t think we can frame Si-mok’s connection with and care for Yeo-jin in conventional understandings of romantic attraction (which is not to say romance isn’t possible for them canonically, I just think it will manifest differently). Nevertheless, I’d say that he responds to her haircut in a way that is probably as close to the mechanics of attraction as we could possibly expect from Si-mok – not just the shock of “oh, you cut your hair,” but lingering looks and nostalgia for when they first met; nothing at all like noticing that she’s wearing lipstick and saying, not so kindly, that it looks weird. In fact, in a direct parallel to this moment in 1x16, Yeo-jin asks him if her haircut is “weird”, and he says, “I just meant it’s different.”

(I think the way he stares at her is not wholly due to being ‘transfixed’, but also because he’s trying to figure out what such a drastic change means, and why now, and whether he has to worry. Basically, his brain is trying to compute; part of his stare is him trying to analyse her behaviour, just as part of it is him revisiting his memories of her from two years ago, and part of it might well be an attraction he doesn’t quite understand or know how to reel in. He does stare at her for an inordinately long time.)

Switching over to Yeo-jin, I really enjoy this little routine of hers when they have meals together – how she narrows down options for him to a series of questions, and even helps him decide on occasion. It never feels like she’s trying to speak for him, but rather that she knows his likes and dislikes. Her question in this scene – makgeolli or soju – is phrased like her question in 2x02, when she asks him to choose between stir-fried octopus and hot pot; when she specifically requests a lot of cabbages, she must be thinking of how he ate lots of them in 2x12. This kind of care comes naturally to Yeo-jin – we’re talking about the person who took in a murder victim’s mother in S1 – but it’s still a form of intimacy, and one that Si-mok is clearly used to as well.

Soon, though, we have our first indication that things might not be so comfortable – not in the sense that their bond has weakened, but that there are fundamental shifts occurring in both of their lives that affect this bond. Si-mok, after a lot more staring, points out that her short hair reminds him of when they first met. (He wouldn’t have needed to take that much time to come up with that simple observation, which makes me think he was trying to choose his words carefully.) With enthusiasm, Yeo-jin responds with, “I haven’t changed a bit, right?” – echoing her comment about Si-mok in 1x16.

Perhaps Yeo-jin had meant this comment sincerely in the moment, but given context, her cheerfulness feels performative. We’ve just witnessed her crying after being bullied by her colleagues, in contrast to the warmth that she enjoys with her old Yongsan team; we’ve observed her changes – a result of maturity, disillusionment, a loss of innocence – throughout the whole season. In fact, she seems to have cut her hair precisely because she feels weighed down by all that has unfolded, just as one might after a break-up or some kind of painful life event. It’s a decision that seems to say: I acknowledge that everything has changed around me, but maybe doing this will make me feel like myself again, or the ‘myself’ of two years ago.

Si-mok, of course, isn’t quite so able to agree that she hasn’t changed. Multiple times this season, he’s observed the changes in her – “You don’t draw these days?” in 2x06, “Didn’t you want to work in police administration?” in 2x08, “You weren’t the kind of person to postpone things.” in 2x12. Now, he doesn’t respond to her question, and instead looks at her in silence, smiling only ever so slightly when she shakes her head playfully (and we know that she can make him smile wider than that). Perhaps he’s even choosing to withhold any judgment of her. But this is a moment, I think, that factors into his decision to ask her that question at the end of this scene.

Next, we have confirmation that Si-mok was the one who asked Yeo-jin out for dinner, just as he had in 2x02 once he’d settled into his new posting. It isn’t clear in 1x16 if it was Yeo-jin who’d asked to meet Si-mok when she found out he was being posted to Namhae, but it’s been affirmed twice this season that he prioritises this time with her (even more so than meeting his own mother). Then, he breaks the news to her that he is leaving for Gangwon Province this weekend.

In 1x16, Yeo-jin finds out that Si-mok is leaving from the special investigation team, without Si-mok being present. At the time, they still think he’ll be sent to the US for training, and Yeo-jin is visibly disappointed. She has the same crestfallen look on her face in this scene, in front of Si-mok. She doesn’t want to be separated from him, and when she asks about his cases, it seems she’d expected him to stay for quite a while longer to see them through. Mind you, Wonju is only about 1.5 hours drive from Seoul (yes, I mapped it), but Yeo-jin still looks like she’s had the rug pulled from under her. Perhaps, in an uncertain time, she’d hoped that Si-mok would be in her life more than the few weeks he’d spent in Seoul.

Yeo-jin’s responses in both 1x16 and 2x16 are a pretty big indicator that she has feelings for Si-mok (whether she’s aware or willing to acknowledge those feelings is another matter). I suppose one could argue that her reaction is simply out of sadness at the thought of being separated from a friend, but based on certain events in S2 – for example, Choi Bit questioning Yeo-jin about her relationship with Si-mok, and Yeo-jin deflecting – I think the viewer is at the very least meant to question whether their bond is truly ‘platonic’. This isn’t the type of show to include superfluous details just to tease their viewers, and in any case, Si-mok and Yeo-jin’s connection has only deepened through the course of this season despite being on opposing sides of the council. It feels like the emotional stakes are much higher this time than back in S1.

As Yeo-jin is absorbing this news from Si-mok, there are a couple of little details here that feel significant to me, but could be nothing: first, the way Si-mok half-holds out his hand as Yeo-jin is pouring her soju, just as he’d held out his hand when she was pouring makgeolli in 2x13. Second, how she pours out a cup of soju for herself first, but not for Si-mok. In any other situation, it might seem impolite – after all, Si-mok is the one who’d chosen the drink – but here it seems that she’s pouring a drink to steady or busy herself more than anything, and she doesn’t drink from it till after their toast.

Following this, Yeo-jin confides in Si-mok that “I never thought the council would end like this. [...] Will the higher-ups be replaced with more honest people while I’m catching bad men out there?” When he replies with, “Why are you talking as if those two are the same?”, it’s yet another of his probing questions, questions she never seems to have an answer to. The Yeo-jin of old would never have assumed that all the higher-ups are dishonest – she has always seen the good in people – but she feels betrayed by Choi Bit, the one person she sincerely respected. Here, she changes the topic rather than opening up, reverting to her most comfortable mode of showing care for someone else by asking Si-mok why he looks so tired. It’s a guardedness that we’re not used to seeing from Yeo-jin; when Si-mok met with Choi Bit at the start of the episode, he describes Yeo-jin as someone who “opens up easily”, even if she doesn’t “blindly trust or respect just about anybody”.

While Yeo-jin is evasive, Si-mok is more willing to be vulnerable in comparison. His openness isn’t surprising, given that Si-mok has shared more about his life and thoughts with her than with anyone else, but it is still heartwarming to see. Instead of brushing off Yeo-jin’s comment, he tells her about his dream of the prosecutors from the Western Office. For anyone else, this might not seem like a significant conversation topic, but for someone who hardly ever dreams (which Si-mok mentioned in S1), it feels like he’s sharing something special with her. This dream, and his factual recounting of it, seems to be a means for his brain to process the traumatic events of two years ago.

Before Si-mok tells Yeo-jin about his dream, there’s a quick insertion here – a lament about seeing your boss in your dreams – that suggests that she is still troubled about Choi Bit, more than she’s letting on. Again, Si-mok doesn’t push her to elaborate, though I think he’s been absorbing all the things that seem off with Yeo-jin since she arrived. Yeo-jin proceeds to analyse his dream in her head, but doesn’t verbalise her interpretation (that Yoon Se-won might be considering suicide, since he went off in the same direction as two characters who have both passed). As she’s deep in thought, Si-mok tilts his head questioningly at her; she says that he probably won’t have time to go anywhere else this weekend, implying that she was thinking of bringing him with her to visit Yoon.

Knowing that Si-mok won’t be able to come with her, however, leaves Yeo-jin resigned. As she announces, “All right, then,” I wonder if this is the moment that she’s choosing to steel herself. The two people she treasures and respects most in her life (Si-mok and Choi Bit) are disappearing from it, and she will have to learn to move forward without them.

Now, we come to their toast. In the corresponding scene in S1, their toast is bittersweet, but has a sense of resolution; upbeat piano music plays in the background as Yeo-jin says, “Goodbye, I won’t be able to see you off,” while Si-mok echoes that with, “Good luck in your new position. Sorry I can’t attend the ceremony.” In S2, the music is quieter, and much more sombre – I’ve been describing it in my head as ‘breathy sad wooooo music’ – even as Yeo-jin laughs and says, a little helplessly: “It feels like we keep repeating this.”

Si-mok, on his part, doesn’t even echo her laugh with anything more than the barest smile. Instead, he says, with a deep sincerity: “Take care, Senior Inspector Han.” As I mentioned earlier, there are many ways that they could have written or played this scene to convey even a little more resolution – choosing different music, or having Si-mok smile along with Yeo-jin, or even giving Yeo-jin a bit more notice of his departure so that she can prepare a gift (as if to say, she doesn’t draw as much these days, but she would for his sake). But the viewer is made to feel all of their reluctance, even sadness at this separation, even if those feelings are hidden beneath pleasantries. “Well, I guess I’ll be okay,” Yeo-jin says, as if there’s a possibility that she won’t be – that this is something she has to recover from in the future.

Si-mok considers her words, her phrasing, her demeanour, tilts his head at her again and says: “Is there a chance you won’t be okay?”

This, above all other lines, shows how much Si-mok has grown in the past couple of years because of Yeo-jin’s influence. Whereas he started S1 cold, guarded, and isolated from the rest of his colleagues, he has arrived at a point where he has cultivated enough of an emotional sensitivity to ask her this question – to show her care, just as she has shown care to him and other people around her. I’d even venture to say that Si-mok feels, himself, that there’s a chance he won’t be as okay with their separation as he might have been two years ago. In 2x05, during the conversation with Seo Dong-jae outside the prison, Dong-jae asks Si-mok: “You don’t feel a tad bit sad even if you’re sent far away, do you?” Si-mok answers, “No.” That doesn’t feel so definitive anymore. There isn’t anything either Si-mok or Yeo-jin can do, given that they both prioritise their careers and understand that these careers follow a certain trajectory, but parting feels a little bit harder this time.

Yeo-jin answers Si-mok’s question as reassuringly as she can, with an adorable smile and shake of the head; she lets out an “ah” after she downs her soju, as if to reorient herself. Yet, her cheerfulness in the rest of the scene – her excitement at the food, her over-enthusiastic chewing – rings empty as the sombre music continues to play in the background. For perhaps the first time in the entire series, there is something about Yeo-jin that seems feigned. Strangely, it is Si-mok’s blank expression that represents the more authentic emotion in this scene – communicating the very resignation that Yeo-jin must be feeling inside, beneath a facade that might read as comical in any other context.

“Is there a chance you won’t be okay?” is, in fact, the last thing that Si-mok says in this whole scene, despite quite a few more lines of dialogue from Yeo-jin. The way he looks at her for the rest of the scene, though, is charged with meaning. It seems to say: ‘I don’t really believe that you’re okay, but I’m going to give you space because I can tell you don’t really want to talk right now.’ It’s not as if Yeo-jin hasn’t confided in him before – their phone call in 1x15 was especially intimate – so it’s not that Si-mok is incapable of listening to her. Still, he respects her choice to deflect, and continues to observe her closely while ignoring the pajeon, even leaning forward right at the end of the scene. This very overt concentration on her is something we’ve never really seen from Si-mok before; even in the rooftop scene in 2x06, which is probably the most loaded scene they share after this one, they’re standing beside each other and rarely make eye contact. Here, his focus on Yeo-jin is palpable.

As much as this scene felt heartbreaking to me (thanks breathy sad wooooo music), it actually left me with a lot of optimism for the development of their relationship in the future. Lee Soo-yeon has said that she has enough material for five seasons of the show, and while I’m not so sure we’ll get as many seasons as that, it feels like she’s pushed Si-mok and Yeo-jin out of their comfortable friendship – planting the question, “is there a chance we won’t be okay?” I wonder if we’ll see something quite different in the third season (which is apparently in discussion!), which surely won’t see them on opposing sides again.

I’ve been burned by enough ships that can potentially be read as ‘platonic’ to know that I shouldn’t hope for any overt romance, but Si-mok is such a unique character and has such a unique connection with Yeo-jin that I’m hopeful that their relationship could be deepened with nuance, even if it doesn’t become romantic in ‘recognisable’ ways. (I have other thoughts on his asexuality/aromanticism that I won’t get into here.) It’s precisely because their connection is built on mutual trust, respect, and understanding that it remains so compelling, and I think this scene promises growth, and some resolution, whenever we see them next.

[ginkgomoon]

After the Future (Season 2)- Song Analysis

So excited to start working on putting my music analyses out! Although I am very passionate about music, I hadn't chosen to study it in school, hence why I hesitated in even trying as I thought I would be lacking the musical terminology and knowledge to fully commit to a proper analysis. However, I did want to persevere, and after back and forth emails to a music teacher, I finally had finally gathered enough material to start the base of own personal analysis on the music tracks. The amazing teacher had helped me with the identifying musical parts of the songs, and I had to be the bridge to connect everything else together with MLQC in a way that would be appropriate to the lore and make it understandable for others to read. Music was and still is a big part of my gameplay. It invigorated so many emotions and I wouldn't be so connected to the game if it weren't for it. It is truly something to be appreciated of. Thank you to all the amazing people who helped made these amazing pieces of art.

If anyone had studied film, the arts, or literally is a fic writer, you would know that the sentence you write or shot you take is something of high value and intent that would contribute to the building of a particular work.

Music is the same. Everything is intentional and necessary. Everything you hear commits to a particular purpose/theme and the message you want to convey. The MLQC music tracks in particular have no lyrics, which accentuates the fact that the emotions, the connections and the information you gather comes strictly from the various instruments and sounds that you hear.

This, therefore makes music analysing much fun but a lot more complicated.

For example, without lyrics we have to be extra vigilant. A certain note or instrument could present itself and we might have to correlate that to something in the gameplay. Or, if a certain instrument represented a certain personality, we would have to expand on that, too.

This analysis includes the PV, which helps further develop the core ideas of Season 1 to Season 2.

Context (Spoilers of S2)

From Chapter 37, we arrive at the end of the first season-

Judgment Day.

MC chooses to crown herself as the White Swan QUEEN and saves the world from Comet X1917.

To do so, she must leave this world behind. She must bid farewell to the guys and turns back time... seventeen years back to her five-year-old self.

Onwards, to Season 2.

Guide

The dot-points (like this) are the musical terms/instruments named that you can hear. - Dashes underneath (like this) will be the storyline connection and interpretation to the music.

Analysis

After The Future is the track that is played as the bridge between Season 1 to Season 2.

Chimes enter. - This is not the first time we hear chimes in the tracks. It's also heard in Love and Vision (Season 1). - This represents MC's faith. Her presence. Her cause and effect's thoughts and actions. Her correspondence to everything. But most importantly, her fate.

Piano enters with chordal accompaniment - chord progression consisting of 4 chords (vi IV I V).

This piece is in E major (a lovely key! Nice and warm!) - We start to see MC with Shaw and Kiro, proceeding to say goodbye to them. We are still in Season 1. - It gives out an almost a saddening, nostalgic feeling. It's like piano is being represented as MC, as we always hear it in Season 1 music tracks.

Lush synthesised string section enters and builds the texture of the music suddenly. - This starts as she says goodbye to Gavin, Victor and Lucien. - This section is like the "ascension" for the boys' gradual realisation and MC's working towards the buildup for her confrontation that she must leave. - This can also be viewed as her ascension as QUEEN, as we can hear the violins and other instruments accompanying it becoming higher in pitch.

Chimes are being heard again as the last thing to "fade out". -MC wears the crown, and the coronation of the White Swan Queen is almost over.

“Love, is what makes me move forward.”

After a silence, electric guitar, drum kit and other instruments enter in a contrasting electronic, slightly rock-style and upbeat section. - This scene in the PV is brilliant, because MC had changed the course and fate of the world. Why and how? - We see a chessboard, exactly parallel to one another. Except the fact that everything use to be black, is now mostly pure white. - In chess, the pieces we play with are black and white. MC is not the Black Swan QUEEN, but crowned herself the victor as White. - This cut happens when the electric guitar picks up, almost symbolising the sudden change that MC makes on the world, therefore, affecting every piece in the board. - The guys can also be argued to be represented as certain pieces in chess (which I am looking forward to expanding on in a future post). - This triggers the happening of Season 2.

The piano improvises a syncopated melody in a mid-high register that sings through the many instruments playing at the same time. This is called a "tutti". - The piano (MC) is heard again. She's alive and kicking in this New World! It drives the rest of the now upbeat instruments, like how MC forges her way through into the world. - The drums accentuates the sense of "intrusion", as we see multiple shots of various locations in Loveland City, almost insights/premonitions to what we will encounter in the future. - MC is with the five guys again, looking bolder, and we can sense that she has changed in the New World, too. - Everyone just looks so good in the PV.

The combination of piano and strings create a more ‘classical’ feel that merge well with the more electronic-sounding instruments that enter in the second section.

The music starts to "ascend" again. - She had used her powers as QUEEN, and now in this world, she must strive towards to fulfil another purpose- to another set of promises.

The continuity of the initial instruments creates a sense of unity in this short piece, then dramatically fades. - This is ultimately representing the worlds that she has merged together to create this New World. - This shows that the unity of the worlds is over, the "reset" has begun, and MC must proceed to find the guys's "old selves". - And so it begins!

"What if... on that day..."

[bentforkent]

earth-shattering, red roses

penelope garcia x gender neutral!reader

a/n: here is my very hesitant, very obscure, and very late submission for @veraiconcos​ fic challenge. is there a market for penelope x reader fics? dunno, but there should be. penelope rights. 

tagging sweet @gaystevie​ 

content warnings: none - this is half fluff, half angst :) 

word count: 1842

in which you’re penelope’s online friend and she develops a crush on you. 

“and then i just,” penelope pauses to hold up a pair of campy earrings to the camera, “pick out some earrings, and i’m good to go!” after putting the jewelry on, she turns her face to model. her hair is pulled back into a bun, adorned with some fluffy hot pink hair accessory. 

“looks cute, pen,” you muse, watching her pose on your tiny phone screen. penelope looks at you with a wide smile. there’s a piece of your hair sticking up and out of place, and she desperately wants to reach out and smooth it out. her thumb twitches.

 “alright my sweet soulmate,” she starts with a smile. you know what’s coming.  “it’s time for me to head to work.” 

you pout at her pixelated face. “already?”

“unfortunately, dear,” she says, but despite feeling reluctant to hang up, her words come out as cheery as ever. 

“alright, penny. have fun at work,” you say, and as soon as she acknowledges your farewell and offers her own, the screen goes black with nothing but a tri-tone to signal the end of the call. 

 you and penelope met seven months ago on some new, groundbreaking virtual world game. penelope’s character was a fairy, with wings that glowed so much she had to have paid extra to have them. (she hadn’t. she just hacked into the fairly new and easy-to-bypass code and given her character the virtual wardrobe of her dreams.) she made a point to keep true to herself, even through her tiny computer alter-ego.

 the two of you often floated in the same circles as you played the game. you were funny, always typing something witty into the chat, and she quickly found herself very fond of you. she let her fingers hover over her keyboard before typing out her first message to you. after the whole “fisher king” fiasco, she respectfully refrained from contacting people on the internet, resigning herself to admiring from afar. but you were different. you had interacted with penelope already, exchanging compliments and working together to solve quests in the game. you knew her, and she knew you, but direct message felt like a new realm. it felt...intimate. 

when you replied to her first message, a simple “hi penelope!” with a butterfly emoji attached for good measure, penelope nearly flew out of her desk chair; she was so excited.  she quickly typed back to you, punctuating with approximately two million exclamation points and a link to her own personal social media. you smiled widely to yourself watching penelope’s chat appear on your computer screen. 

over the next months, you and penelope had become practically inseparable. well...virtually, at least. you lived much too far from penelope, and penelope much too far from you.  your distance spanned one timezone and a handful of states, but with how often you two talked, you always felt close. you learned her favorite color, her favorite movie, her favorite tv shows. she learned your guilty pleasure snack, your nighttime routine, and your favorite song to drive to. after 12am, you’d whisper into the phone receiver about your day, telling her about everything that bothered you or brought you joy. penelope revelled in these chats. listening to you was the best part of her day. this was your friendship, and it was good. 

 but recently things had been ever-so-slightly different. penelope lingers on a phone call even though she is exhausted, just to hear your voice. she proof-reads her text messages multiple times before sending them out--who does that? the red heart emoji is fast becoming her most used, taking the place of the pink one. the pink one is platonic, it’s always been platonic, and the red one is romantic. how is this happening? often, penelope lies in bed, imagining you’re laying against each other with your hands entangled. she reaches and rests her hand on the other side of the bed, where you would lie if you were there. sometimes, when she’s really tired, she believes she can feel you.

when thinking about this, penelope’s chest feels tight in the most exhilarating way. she’s confused, naturally. the last time she felt this way was when she thought she had real feelings for derek. (she’d buried whatever feeling that was way deep down in the depths of her brain.)

 could it be love if you had never touched? no. no, penelope is a romantic, but she’s also a realist. this can’t be love, not yet. but...a crush. the realization of the word seeps into her bloodstream, setting each cell in her body on fire. it’s a nice fire, a warm fire, a fire that flickers in pink flames. penelope spins around a few times in her work desk chair. 

gee, how lucky is she that she’s got her own little cave here? no one to interrupt her private moment of reckoning...although, now that she thinks of it, it’s not much of a “moment” from the outside. it’s not like her cheeks are stained red and there’s a sign on her forehead that reads “i have a crush!” any one of her coworkers could walk in right now and have no clue anything is any different. (penelope forgets that she’s terrible at hiding things and that she works with trained behavioral profilers.) she pauses a minute, staring at the door, half-expecting hotch to walk in and chew her out for not looking up white males in nebraska, or something. 

 penelope smoothly rolls her chair over to where her cell phone rests. she really shouldn’t be making a personal call at work, she thinks, but she also really shouldn’t have hacked into reid’s work computer and changed everything in english into tagalog last week. penelope can’t remember the last time she genuinely cared about the FBI’s rules. (in her defense, it took spencer like--half of a second to figure out what the unfamiliar language was, and a whole work day to understand it. she was teaching him!) 

 she picks up the phone, grinning as she swipes through recent text notifications of you updating penelope on your day. she finds the “call” button quickly, and waits as it begins to ring.

“penelope?” you question upon answering. “i’m at work, i can’t really talk right now.” you sound happy, despite the intrusion penelope knows she’s providing.

 “no, i know,” penelope replies, twirling a pen in her free hand. she taps her foot quickly. “which is why i’ll make this super quick.” she drags out the word ‘super’ like it tastes like candy.  “i have a crush on you. an earth-shattering, red roses, big crush on you.”

“oh,” you gasp, surprised. “oh! yeah!” you shake your head quickly, as if trying to wake yourself from a dream. all penelope can hear on the other line is the swooshing of air. “yeah, penny, me too. definitely me too. by that i mean, i have a crush on you too.” you’re stumbling, tripping over the words in your haste to get them out, but neither one of you seem to notice. all you can tell is the grin on your face is starting to hurt your cheeks, and all penelope can tell is that if she pulls her knees any closer to her chest she might squish herself. 

 “okay, cool,” penelope says through a smile. 

 you give a breathy laugh. “i really do have to go, though. i’ll definitely talk to you later, though. bye, penny,” you say, and hang up before giving penelope the chance to quip a witty goodbye. 

 you like her back, penelope thinks, the harps playing in her head making her feel like a juvenile pining after someone on the playground. her stomach flutters. the angelic voices in her head are singing, something that sounds like a warbled, choral version of “i wanna dance with somebody” by whitney houston. she closes her eyes, and relishes in it. 

after a second, the stark silence in penelope’s office startles her into reality. 

what is this?

what is she doing?

 oh, fuck, she thinks. tears well in her eyes. what is she doing? this is so unrealistic, penelope thinks, berating herself. you’re far away, only connected to her through a phone screen. it’s a great sentiment to have this sweet crush, yeah, but it’s not practical. not real. it’s not like penelope would ever be in a position to pack up and fly to you, and after hearing you gush about your job just the night prior, she knows you certainly feel the same.

 and then she feels like shit for even calling, for even telling you that she felt this way. it would cause nothing but problems. penelope pauses, in her brain. no, it wouldn’t even cause problems! being with you is so incredibly far-fetched that there isn’t even a “will they, won’t they” debate. any problem is solved with a simple “won’t they.” no, this wouldn’t cause problems, but it would cause heartache, and she should’ve known better. penelope thinks she’s feeling a bit of that heartache now. she sniffles, toying with a tiny plush pig she keeps perched on her desk. sometimes penelope just gets blinded by the butterflies. it’s her best trait and most fatal flaw.

 there’s a knock at her door. derek. 

 “hey babygirl,” he says, pushing open the door and leaning into the doorframe. “what are you doing for lunch?” 

 with her back turned to him, she rubs at her eyes delicately, trying very hard not to mess up her makeup. “uh, i brought my thermos. soup,” she says, clawing desperately at the bubbly personality she can feel slipping away from her for today. she’s just down in the dumps. 

 “hey, what’s wrong?” derek asks, instantly picking up on her sour mood. he steps into her office and closes the door behind him. 

 penelope turns to him, eyes rimmed in red, and gives him a half smile. derek, sweet derek, always so in tune with penelope, is looking at her intently, worry written in every crease of his face. penelope always feels lucky to have him, but especially in this moment. in a rush of emotion, she stands, flings her arms around his neck and pulls him in to a tight hug. 

 derek chuckles. “i love you too.” 

 penelope pulls away with a half-hearted chuckle, swatting the air as if to get rid of the negative emotions plaguing her office. “you come in here with your big muscles and your pretty face and somehow you’ve got me crying in your arms.” she laughs again, slightly more enthusiastic this time. 

 derek pulls her to his chest again, holding her there without words. penelope lets out a deep sigh, releasing every single emotion she just ran through. 

she could deal with those later. she could deal with her royal mess with you later. right now, it didn’t matter. what mattered now was her office, her lunch, and derek morgan.

“derek?” she asks, voice small. he turns to her, prompting her to speak again. “if i asked you to stay, would you?”

[xxtha-blog]

So apperently I wrote a oneshot fanfic and forgot about it for almost 2 years

And because it's comedy fucking gold, and also some quality post-comic Ace content, I thought I'd share it with you people here.

Without further adieu, may I present to you

A Casual Encounter With Ace

Ink knew very little of Ace. He had met him once, briefly, in the last moments before his AU disappeared into nothingness, Ace sneaking through the portal Dream had created and slipping away from the destruction of his own home like it was nothing more than an average Saturday. Ink barely had the chance to talk to him, didn’t even know his name, he just knew that there was a flamboyant top hat wearing skeleton that enjoyed stealing things and harassing Dream, prancing around the multiverse and causing chaos with no restrictions. Of course, Ink planned to catch him… eventually… if he hadn’t forgotten… multiple times. But it was Ace who seemed to catch him instead.

  Ink had been sitting in the snow, crouched behind the trees of Underswap, checking up on the stability of the timeline, when he heard a voice behind him. At first, he thought it was Blue, the only one who would know to look for him there, but the accent threw him off. Ink turned slowly, curious, and saw the black and red skeleton leaning against his staff behind him, smiling modestly as he surveyed the rest of the underground as Ink did.

  Ink paused for a second. “Hey– Don’t I know you…?” He tapped a pencil against his chin, working with all his might to remember.

  “Perhaps, dear sir, perhaps indeed, for I am quite popular, simply ask my wonderous fans, who may be reading this right now! Which does remind me, do you ever realize that we transcend not only drawings and comic books, but also code, writing, and animations. It’s quite crazy when you think about it, I mean, just look at you. What? One of the most popular characters in the entire fandom created by a mere teenager! Mind boggling and simply astounding, our existence, both of us in fact, relies only on two simple teenagers bringing us to life.” Ace talked mellifluously, his accent smooth and precise, as though someone had mashed together a French and British accent and added a gay flare to it. He talked incredibly fast, as though to confuse everyone with his slur of words, despite them not being slurred in the slightest.

  Ink stood up, brushing the snow off his sweater. “Wait a second!” He glanced up again his eyes widening. “Aren’t you that magician guy?!”

 Ace tilted his head, intrigued.

   “Aha!” Ink declared in triumph. “I finally found you!”

  “Magician guy is quite vague. And a guy, no, no, dear sir, not at all, I simply am I, an illusionist, a magician, a slight bit insane, but far saner than you, so I must ask for you to be a tad bit more specific for fear I may misinterpret what you wish to say and be unable to reply!” Ace spun his staff around, giving Ink a slight smirk.

  “You’re from that AU- Oh what was it.” Ink spun his hands through the air, churning his memory around. “Magicwhatever, Lucktale, Underchance, Chancyluck, Chance, Chance something, Chancetale-? CHANCETALE!” He put his hands on his hips proudly.

  “A dead name, no?” Ace raised his eye sockets into a quizzical expression.

  “I mean, yeah, but you’re still here, which means you’re screwing up timelines. Which means I gotta stop ya!” With a quick flip of his arm behind his head, Ink pulled his paintbrush out in front of him and pointed it towards Ace.

  “Stop me? Stop me! Oh, how wonderful!” Ace’s eyes lit up as he spun on his heel with glee.

  “You’re supposed to be worried,” Ink pointed out. “Like, oh no he’s going to catch me?! Whatever shall I do! And then I go, heck yeah I’m going to catch you! Because I’ve got a super cool paintbrush!”

  “I dare say you do not.”

  “What do you mean? My paintbrush is awesome, I mean just look at it–" he stopped. "Where’s my paintbrush?” Ink’s hands were empty, his fingers grasping at the cold air around them and nothing more. He wondered if his memory had lapsed again, but he could have sworn he had just been holding it. He reached back only to grasp at the air once more.

  Ace casually spun the paintbrush in his hands, still standing stationary a dozen or so feet away, studying the fine patterns on the metal clasps. “Quite a nice paintbrush, indeed, I do not disagree with that, however, you do not have it, therefore your statement was false.” Without another word, the paintbrush disappeared into thin air, and Ace merely tilted his top hat.

  Ink started to take things a little more seriously, his smile fading. He straightened. “This’ll be interesting.”

  “Oh, tis always interesting when I’m here! Just ask your dear friend Dream!”

  “We’re not really friends,” Ink said with a shrug. “He just happens to be useful sometimes.”

  “Oh my! What wonderful news we have here! I’ll be sure to keep it in mind to use against you so that I can slowly break apart your relationship until you are both mortal enemies in which case I can use your turmoil to my advantage!” He clasped his hands together, smiling softly, before adding, "If need be."

  Ink stared for a second. “You know if you really want to be evil, you shouldn’t announce what you’re going to do out loud.”

  “Evil? No, I’m not evil. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever consider myself to be evil, for that would mean I am profoundly immoral, and although I am profound, immoral I am not. I know precisely what is right and wrong, and good and bad, and have no trouble discerning between the two. I simply choose to do good and choose to do bad based on the situation and outcome it will provide me, and dear sir, it is quite a bore to be simply one or the other, is it not? I mean, you’re one to speak, think of the things you have done and the people you have hurt for your own benefit, quite chaotic indeed, but not evil. Few would call the fabulous Ink evil. Therefore I am not evil. I am just spontaneous, whether that be something pleasant or something disagreeable.”

  “You really do talk a lot,” Ink said, crossing his arms.

  “Tis a showman thing.”

  “Showman?”

  “Oh! Would you like to see a show?!”

  “Not really. I was in the middle of–”

  Ace clapped his hands together cutting Ink off, his staff forming between his palms as he pulled them apart. He twirled his staff like a baton before stamping it down into the snow and pulling his top hat off his head, taking a slight bow before beginning, “A magic show! For the fabulous Encre!”

  Ace began to perform his dazzling illusions. As real as reality, yet as mad as a dream. He swept up beside Ink and before Ink could say a word, slipped his scarf right over his head and turned it a kaleidoscope of brown butterflies. Ink went to protest, but a butterfly zipped over top of his mouth and turned into a brown piece of duct tape. The rest of the butterflies froze, falling to ice cubes on the ground before bursting into tiny glass shards that glimmered with little lights.

  “Butterflies were not meant for the underground! How unfortunate. The terms and conditions said nothing about turning to glass, however! Then again, I did not read them. Alas, now I must clean this all up.” Ace spun back around Ink, standing over top of the pile of glass shards.

  Ink shouted, but his words came out as muffled gibberish. He tried to pull the duct tape off, but it refused to budge. He waved his arms around, exasperated.

  “What’s that dear sir? You wish to see more magic tricks? Well, I wish to perform more as well!” Ace spread his arms out, the glass shards levitating off the ground around him before spinning into a small ball and transforming into a lightbulb above Ace's fingertips. He caught it out of the air, studying it closely, before looking back up at Ink.

  “I would put this above my head and say I do so happen to have an idea, but that would be terribly cliché, would it not?”

  “Mphfffff!”

  “I wholeheartedly agree! I’ll put it inside my mouth instead!”

  Ace slipped the lightbulb between his teeth, smiling deviously.

  “Now dear sir,” he said with zero hindrance, despite the lightbulb clamped between his teeth. “It is a well-known fact that when one puts a lightbulb inside their mouth, it shall go in quite fine and then never ever come out again in one piece! Today I am here to prove that theory wrong and promote the putting of light bulbs in your mouth everywhere!” Ace let out a small laugh before quickly inhaling the lightbulb.

  Ink’s eyes narrowed, giving up his attempts to talk through the duct tape.

  “Where ever has it gone? Ah! I know!” Ace reaches a hand inside his left eye socket and pulls the lightbulb into the place his heart-shaped pupil should have been.

  “And now to turn it on!”

  With a slight flick of his wrist, Ace summoned an egg out of midair, then cracked it against the nearest tree. From the cracked shell sprang a toaster, which Ace caught in his hands as though he had done this many a time. He quickly plugged the toaster into the tree and waited a few seconds, but nothing seemed to happen.

   Ink watched, both baffled and annoyed, only able to express his feelings through a few grunts and shakes of his head. Ink had seen many things over his life, AUs full of nothing but Sanses, characters made of watermelons, atrocious crossovers, but nothing quite as strange as this.

  “Oh, I see what I’m doing wrong! Forgive me, dear sir, I have never used a toaster in my life! I run solely off of white chocolate!” Ace unplugged the toaster from the tree and threw it as far as he could muster. “Farewell, dear toast maker. I shall miss thee.”

  He reached inside the small red pouch on his shirt, barely bigger than a golf ball, and pulled a full sized hair dryer.

  Why do you have a hairdryer?! Ink shouted, his eyes wide, but it simply came out as “Wff duh vu hvv a her dyr?!”

  “For this, dear sir, why else.” Ace put the end of the hairdryer up to his eye and turned it on. It wasn’t plugged into anything, the cord dangling around Ace's ankles. As the hairdryer whirred to life, the light bulb flickered on.

  Ace pulled the hair dryer away, making it disappear into a flurry of little pink sparkles before taking a long bow, one of his eyes now made of a little yellow glowing light bulb.

  Ink clapped sarcastically.

  “Why thank you! Thank you! Truly an amusing time we've had here today!” He pranced over to Ink, patting him on the head twice. When Ink tried to grab him, his entire vision spun around and he was suddenly facing the complete opposite direction.

  “Now, now, that’s no way to treat someone who just performed for you.”

  Ink turned on his heels, looking around for Ace, but he was nowhere to be seen. The piece of duct tape had vanished.

  “Farewell, dear Ink, until you wish for another magic show!”

  The voice came from nowhere and echoed throughout the trees before fading into nothingness. On the ground, there was a small paper card. Ink bent over and picked it up, flipping it open. Inside was a tiny brush, smaller than a thumbtack, taped to the inside of the card with a small heart and delicate cursive handwriting: I believe this belonged to you?

[yo-hannia]

So, basically, I've been working on this little head for some time, and it gave me several heartbreaks, but now I think this child is ready to face Tumblr c: WARNING, to some extent it may be ooc So... Meet "Birds"

Aman, before the Flight

Tyelkormo is in the woods with Oromë. They are saying goodbye, both knowing that this is the last time they see each other. Oromë is sad: of all other Eldar he loves Tyelko the most. However, the third Fëanorion has also given the Oath, so he will follow his father and leave Aman. Tyelkormo himself is not completely glad about leaving his patron and beloved friend too. Oromë gave and taught him so much, that elf feels like with Oromë he is leaving behind a part of his soul. Still, he believes in his father's words, maybe too sharp, but true in general. Tyelko says he's going to miss Oromë. Vala is going to miss Tyelkormo too. While they exchanging the last farewells Oromë promises, that he will never actually leave Turcafinwë alone in trouble. Elda cannot understand how would this be possible, but then thinks that Vala ment Huan, as the hound will be the memory of Oromë and his company. Since Tyelko still feels troubled Oromë advises him to visit Lórien-garden, while he still can. That is what Tyelkormo does. In the Garden he starts to feel better. Birds gather up around him, the elf smiles and is pretty happy. Although, he notes the absence of nightingale among all other kinds of birds. Tyelko doesn't understand this. Vala Irmo predicts Turcafinwë a lot of pain and sorrows after the Flight, and this almost makes Tyelko angry. He rises rapidly, but at the very moment when he wants to outrage, Fëanaro enters the Garden. He throws a wrathful look at his son, whom he didn't expect to see here, and chases him out to get packed. Tyelko leaves obediently. 

Amon-Ereb

Celegorm and Curufin are not in the best condition. They have lost their lands, failed to conquer the neighboring one and are almost out of people. Celegorm tries to be cheered up: after all, they are on the edge of one, maybe most important fight in their life. They're finally going to be a step closer to a Silmaril, to fullfiling their Oath. Besides, they haven't seen their brothers for ages. Still, Curufin seems all grumpy and irritated. Celegorm cannot let himself to fall under those emotions, because if he does, after everything he's gone through, he will only have to sit under the tree and cry until the darkness consumes him. 

Caranthir welcomes them gladly in the royal castle. They're all exchanging  warm greeting words and then Caranthir takes brothers for a walk through the castle, showing them, as they go, all the preparations for the upcoming battle and asking some clarifying questions about all Beren and Luthien story. Celegorm and Curufin answer briefly. After that they proceed into a small, by Caranthir's castle standarts, room, where they meet up with twins. Amrod and Amras are very happy to see their brothers again after a long time, especially hunter-Celegorm, they cheer and laugh, and are not aware of what's happening.They only know that there's going to be some fine mess, this time, as it seems, in Doriath. Brothers tell them the long story short, and twins become not so happy anymore. After a few days the elders arrive, they know all the deal in general. Maedhros is upset and gloomy, but as well as other brothers he has no choice, the Oath is the Oath. Maglor missed everybody and is very happy to see everyone again, he tries not to think about what they are going to do, about all the massacre, which they have gathered up for. He just wants to enjoy family reunion while he can. He orders minstrels to play and calls Celegorm for a private talk, then hugs younger brother with great compassion. Celegorm is surprised, he's afraid that Maglor found out something about Luthien, but then it appears that the Singer is sorry for the loss of Huan. Celegorm is really touched by that. He suddenly realises that he missed Maglor more that it seemed to him. After all, it was exactly Makalaurë who taught and mentored Tyelko in his early childhood. Kano was almost like second father to him. 

Preparation days pass by, and one time Celegorm, Amrod and Amras go to caserns to give some regular orders to their commanders and soldiers. While walk, they reminisce about good old days in Aman. When they chose to go through inner courtyard, one of the twins remembers, all of a sudden, a birds game, which they used to play back in Aman, and suggests to play. Celegorm refuses at first, says that they have a lot of work, but being dared and then agrees. While they play the first round, Caranthir passes by, and very surprised stays to take a look. All the same with Curufin, he then sits behind Celegorm's back. All in all, the crowd of multiple elves, including all brothers, gathers. One servant doesn't understand all thing, and Maglor quietly explains him the rules: Amrod is supposed to think of a bird and with ósanwe give Celegorm the image, sound, a feeling, all associations with it. Celegorm, since he knows the tongues of all animals, should imitate the song of the bird, which Amrod thought of. Amras should simply guess it. If Celegorm succeed imitating he gets a point, if Amras guesses, twins get a point. They lose their points if they can't do the task, or do it wrongly. Maglor remembers, that youngers used to play this game a lot, back in Aman, because they all three are hunters and this was an easy amusement to them, but everyone who ever saw them playing was amazed of their skill. Though, after the Flight they almost forgot about it. 

The game lasted for a long time, and on the another round Amrod faced a problem with thinking of another bird, which (as he thinks) Celegorm couldn't show. Everyone is waiting, so desperate (since he supposes that would be too easy), he gives out a nightingale. This is where Celegorm breaks down. He starts to gasp, his eyes fill with tears. Amras suggests to stop the game, but Celegorm rises hastly, claiming that he is fine, he will do it, and that he "had never lost a game since he was ninety four". And he sings the trill of the nightingale, as beautiful, as anyone has ever heard. Everybody is shocked and keeping silence. Celegorm looks down and breathes heavily. Amras starts to guess gingerly, and at the very moment he says "This is…", Curufin finishes -- "Nightingale". He and Celegorm look at one another, both thinking about the same "Nightingale". Celegorm looks around and then runs away, as far as he can.

The forest in Amon-Ereb

Celegorm runs through the forest and cries. He curses himself, curses Beren, Finrod and everything he can remember. His eyes water, he stumbles and falls on his hands and knees. Like that he stays and keeps crying for a few moments; then he just seats on the ground and leans on a tree and starts praying to Oromë. He remembers Vala's promise, that he wouldn't leave Celegorm in trouble, and now he is in the worst trouble of all, but where is Oromë? Still, nothing happens. Because nothing can happen, Oromë is fenced from him forever. Birds are gathering on Celegorm's cry. He smiles through tears. It seems that he sits like that quite a while, because at some moment Curufin comes in, all sweaty and nervous. He falls on his knees before Celegorm, tries to get him on his feet, cries and asks all things like "how long have you been here", "why have you run in forest", "everyone in the castle searches for you", tries to brings brother to his senses. Celegorm notes him that there is no Nightingale among the birds. The sign was given long time ago, at the very beginning, but only now he can understand it. Curufin keeps silence. Celegorm asks, how he found him, brother answers - with ósanwe. The two of them never thought, how strong became a bond between them after all this time they spent together in Himlad and further. Although now they both think "he is my most beloved brother, it's good he is near right now". Curufin tries to raise his brother up again, Celegorm hugs him and asks: "Curyo, why can't I stay in the forest forever?" 

Curufin is not really good in comforting, but he tries to cheer his brother up. He shakes him by the shoulders, tells that now is not the time to fall apart, that they need to keep themselves together. The upcoming fight might be as well their last one, so they should be ready to die with honor, like they promised. Actually Curufin, as well as Celegorm, and Caranthir, to some extent, feels the imminent end. But they need to turn these feelings into bravery and courage. That's why Curufin tells Celegorm about their duty, reminds about their kin and pride, and they return to castle together. 

[ineffably-good]

Prompt: Scars

Part three of a mini-series from my recent prompts. You can read part one here and part two here. 

Want more? You can read all of the Good Omens Celebration prompts I’ve completed on AO3!

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

Part 3: Project Heavenly Slumbers

Crowley was sitting in the market square in Baghdad when he felt a burst of angelic energy that he knew marked the incorporation of an entity from Above. Over time, he’d come to be able to differentiate Aziraphale’s arrival from that of the other angels who sometimes came down – Gabriel was easy to spot because of the unnecessary fanfare he allowed, and he’d learned through necessity to identify the sociopath Sandalphon and that scary bastard Michael. In comparison, Aziraphale’s energy signature was gentler, a calmer, more peaceful feeling.

Usually, that is. Today it felt like a punch in the gut.

Crowley swallowed nervously. That kind of feeling invariably meant that the angel was really, really angry. He wondered what Heaven had done now.

Only one way to find out. He made his farewells to the merchants he’d been discussing politics with, tucked his purchases into his pocket, and scented off after the angel’s trail like a bloodhound. 

--

He found him about an hour later in a tavern. The angel was seated in a sparsely populated outdoor courtyard, a clay cup of something in front of himself, and he looked rather like a thunderstorm waiting to break.

The angel did not look up as Crowley slid into a seat across from him.

“Hello Aziraphale,” he said cautiously. “Everything all right?”

“Come to gloat, did you?” the angel said, icily, not looking up from his drink.

Crowley blinked. “Gloat? What about?”

The angel looked up, his eyes a cold, hard blue. “You know exactly what about.”

Crowley laid out both hands in a gesture of seeming innocence. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “What did I do?”

Aziraphale picked up his mug, drained it with one deep, long swallow, and plunked a coin on the table before standing up and stalking away.

Crowley rolled his eyes and muttered something about drama before following the angel at a safe distance. Angry angels, even when it was Aziraphale, were not something to mess with, and he could tell from the set of his friend’s shoulders that he knew he was being followed.

Eventually, Aziraphale veered off into a walled public garden that offered a chance at some privacy, and Crowley followed him in. The angel led him deeper in, towards the edges of a pretty little fountain, looked around to ensure there were no other people around, and then whirled on the demon ferociously.

Crowley took a step back in spite of himself at the look on the angel’s face.

“You sabotaged me,” Aziraphale spat. “Don’t even pretend that you didn’t.”

Crowley made a face, ignoring a twinge of reflexive guilt. “Did not. What are you talking about?”

Aziraphale took a threatening step forward. “Your – your chants, and your powders got me in a lot of trouble, demon. And I think you did that on purpose.”

Crowley stepped back again. “You asked me for help!” he protested. “I gave you what you asked for!”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. “And you didn’t think, in any part of you, that what you offered me was probably going to get me into a little bit of trouble? Chants from eastern heretical religions? A powder you didn’t happen to tell me was opium??”

The guilt become a little more front and center at that. Just a little demonic joke, that was all he had intended. He didn’t mean to get the angel in trouble.

Crowley shrugged helplessly. “’m a demon, Aziraphale! I’m supposed to cause a little mischief!” He swallowed and struggled to find a way of admitting remorse without actually saying the words. “Didn’t mean to cause any harm.”

Aziraphale made a noncoherent noise of frustration and rage and then threw himself down on a bench and buried his face in his hands.

Crowley watched him for a few seconds, and then took a careful step towards him. He didn’t quite dare to sit down next to him on the bench, so instead he sank down to sit on the grass beside him, just out of striking range if the angel should decide to smack him, but close enough to speak quietly. He folded his knees under him in case he needed to spring up suddenly to foil an attack. It had been millennia since they’d had an outright physical altercation, but the memory of it was still with him.

“Didn’t mean I wasn’t genuinely trying to help, though, angel,” he said. “What happened, anyways?”

The angel slumped and the anger seemed to click down a few notches. “No one could sleep. We tried everything – music, food, breathing, meditation, exercise. Eventually I let them try the powders – yes, I know you said to be careful with them – on a couple of occasions, which helped a bit, but still, the project was an abysmal failure.”

“No one slept?”

“No one but me,” Aziraphale said. “And then I got called to task for my heretical techniques, and the fact that I got several innocent guardian angels hooked on opium.” He glared balefully at the demon.

Crowley tried hard not to laugh. It wasn’t funny, he told himself. It really wasn’t.

“It’s not funny,” Aziraphale said, not fooled for a second. “You have no idea what they’re like up there. They’re awful! I’d rather face a demon.”

“What did they do to you?”

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, seeming embarrassed. “Various things. Multiple dressing downs, public shaming, slap on the wrist. Got demoted. They put Sandalphon in charge of finalizing things with Charlemagne, which will be a nightmare, and it will be ages before they give me anything truly interesting to do again. Shipping me off to Asia soon, since I’m apparently so interested in them.”  

That didn’t sound so bad, Crowley thought, but then again, he hadn’t really known Aziraphale to exaggerate in the past, and he’d gotten the impression here and there that some of his superiors were gigantic assholes. He had to imagine that whatever Aziraphale went through probably hadn’t been fun, even if Heaven didn’t deal with discipline issues by running you through with a pitchfork. In Hell’s defense, once they got through torturing you, they were generally pretty quick to act like nothing had ever happened. Heaven seemed keener on holding a grudge.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he said quietly. “I really didn’t mean to get you into trouble with the bosses.”

The angel sighed again. “I suppose you were just doing your job,” he said, sounding resigned. “My fault for asking a demon for help.”

That wasn’t quite the resolution he had been hoping for, Crowley thought, but it was better than the bitter recrimination of a few minutes ago. He made a mental note: the angel is off limits for playing tricks on. He underlined it, twice, highlighted it in bright yellow, and tucked it away in a mental folder called IMPORTANT STUFF. He would try not to make that mistake again.  

Now to try to smooth over the scars he’d left behind by this blunder.

“You’re going to Asia?” he said. “Whereabouts? I think you might like it there, quite a bit, actually. I was there last century and some of what they’re doing in China right now is astonishing!”

Aziraphale looked him full in the eye for the first time, a bit of wariness still showing, but interested despite himself. “Oh really? I suppose we could go back to the tavern for another drink and you could tell me about it.”

“Sounds good, angel,” Crowley said.

“Not that I’m going to be taking any advice from you, mind you,” the angel said acerbically.

“No, no,” the demon agreed peacefully. “Wouldn’t dream of offering any.” He thought for a minute and extended a careful olive branch. “Although there’s a dish they make here that you really should try if you feel like having a nibble – it’s called a pastilla, made up of savory spiced chicken and eggs topped with almonds and cinnamon in a pastry shell. I think you’d like it… Care for a bite?”

Aziraphale made a noise of interest. The sun began to set behind them as they headed out of the garden, two almost-friends walking side by side through the deepening gloom, feeling their way back towards equilibrium.

[whitesparrows97]

A Thousand Springs – Part 12

Pairing: BTS x Reader/OT7 x Reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content including fingering, dirty talk, multiple partners

Word Count: 4.6K

Previous / Next

(picture credit: photograph by Mok Jung Wook for TIME Magazine)

You finally felt like you could breathe freely again. All the disagreements between you and the boys had subconsciously caused you more trouble than you wanted to admit. You were happy to have shaken this rock off your chest. 

For a moment you thought about telling them about David’s call but, and maybe that was stupid, you just wanted to enjoy the time with them now. David already had way too much control over your life anyway.

You didn’t know what would happen if you told them about the call. But you were sure they hadn’t been sitting on the sofa with you the last few days, taking walks in the huge garden or just chatting. It was good to just have a chat with them, without lies, without secrets. 

You’ve never felt so liberated, so light, so comfortable. 

Even learning for the exam was fun when Hoseok or Taehyung were asking you questions to practice. You were a little surprised that they took the matter seriously and didn’t fool around, but prepared you well. However, you quickly noticed that you had forgotten essential documents in the hurry in your apartment.

You left your room where you had spent the morning and had searched again in vain. You didn’t want to admit it at first, but you were practically afraid of meeting Alison again. Telling a lie on the phone was one thing, but if you had to lie straight to her face, you knew she’d see right through you. Especially with a big lie like that. 

You walked past the rooms of Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung and crossed the balcony with a view of the entrance hall. On the way to Namjoon’s room you heard loud laughter from the kitchen, which came from Jimin, Jin, Hoseok and Taehyung and you couldn’t resist your smile. It seemed you weren’t the only one who felt relieved after the conversation you had with Namjoon. 

When you arrived at the dark wooden door, you took a deep breath before raising your hand and knocking hesitantly. Immediately a deep “Come in” came from inside.

Carefully you pressed the door open. You had never been in any of the other boys’ rooms except Jungkook’s and you were still a little nervous in Namjoon’s presence.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted you when he saw you and asked you into the room with a gesture. As you closed the door behind you, your gaze glided through the room.

The first thing that struck you was the big desk, which was standing in front of high shelves full of books. It was like a small library of its own. The desk was almost overflowing with notes and folders, which were also bursting at the seams. A space had been built into the shelves to make room for a fireplace in which a soothing fire was burning.

On your left was the large bed, from which you would have a good view of the fireplace on the one hand, and of the garden and the city behind it on the other.

“Speechless?” Namjoon asked, smiling, and you directed your gaze a little embarrassed back at the man, who had gotten up from his chair at the desk and was approaching you. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve hardly seen any of your rooms yet.” You were searching for the right words. “It’s… interesting.”

“Oh, it’s alright. We have enough time for you to look at them in peace and as often as you want,” he replied with a smile before reaching for your hand and gently stroking a strand of hair back behind your ear with the other one. “But I don’t think you’re here to look at my room. Right?”

You nodded. “I’m studying for my final exam…”

“Yes, Taehyung and Hoseok talk hardly about anything else,” Namjoon interrupted you laughing and you couldn’t hold back your smile.

“Anyway, I noticed that in all the hurry I forgot some important documents in the apartment.”

“No problem, we can go and get them,” he practically read your thoughts. Well, that was easy. You thought it would take a little more persuasion for Namjoon to let you out of the safe four walls of the villa.

“Really? That would be great, because I don’t have as much time anymore to learn.”

“I let Yoongi know and then we’re on our way,” Namjoon replied and had already disappeared from the room. When you also stepped into the hallway, you saw him disappear into the first room of the hallway.

You made your way to your room to get the key to the apartment and wanted to take a quick look at Yoongi’s room. However, you were disappointed to find that Namjoon had closed the door behind him.

After a short time of searching you found the key and waited on the balcony for the other two. You had your elbows supported on the railing and had a good view of the entrance hall. As much as you loved the villa, it was a good feeling to get outside again. Maybe you could ask the others if you could go on vacation when you finished your last exam.

You used the quiet moment and wrote Alison a warning that you were coming. It was Sunday and the way you knew her, she might have had a male visitor. Besides, you wanted to be prepared beforehand if you really met her at home. Then you could at least plan a little and think about an explanation if she asked who Yoongi and Namjoon were.

‘Hey, Ali. I left some papers at home and I’m coming to get them. Are you home? Do I have to sneak into the apartment to avoid disturbing anyone?’

A tick. Two ticks. She was online. Offline.

You frowned. Strange, otherwise she always answered directly. Or at least didn’t let you on read.

The opening of a door to your left side took you from your thoughts and you looked up.

“I’m sorry you had to wait. I briefly called one of our men to give us a lift. He should be here any minute,” explained Namjoon.

“Can’t one of you drive?”

“Namjoon doesn’t have a license and I’m not in the mood to drive,” Yoongi replied.

“Oh, okay,” you replied and before you could ask any more, the doorbell rang.

“I’m going,” Jimin shouted, who slid excitedly into the lobby. You smiled at his behavior, but you could also understand. It was probably rather rare for the seven men to have visitors.

“It’s for us, Jiminie,” Namjoon informed the younger one. He had already opened the door and greeted the guest briefly.

“Are you going away?” he asked, facing up to you.

“Yes, Y/N has to get some documents from the apartment. We won’t be gone long,” Namjoon explained further as you made your way down.

“Okay, then have fun,” Jimin bid you farewell with a meaningful wiggle of his eyebrows and a promising grin.

Now you were even more suspicious. 

“Namjoon. Yoongi,” the stranger greeted the other two. “Miss Y/N,” he turned his gaze to you, “It’s an honor to meet you. I am Woo Chin Ho, but you can call me Chin Ho.” He bowed lightly. 

You didn’t know what to say. Apparently Namjoon and Yoongi realized your loss of words, because Namjoon laughed and a little smile played around the corner of Yoongi’s mouth. In all your life, you've never been greeted like this by anyone.

“Okay, let’s go,” said Namjoon and you were happy to be taken out of the uncomfortable situation.

On the way to the car you took a closer look at Chin Ho. He had longer, black hair, which was knotted to a proper bun. He also wore a fancy suit, but the T-shirt underneath was looser and more casual. He definitely looked like someone you could have a good laugh with and with whom you would never have a dull moment. 

In the rearview mirror, you took a quick look at his face. It was neat, freshly shaved, very clean skin. His eyes radiated warmth and there seemed to be a constant smile on his face. When your eyes met, he threw you a warm smile before he started the engine.

The car you were sitting in wasn’t one of the two you already knew. Although you were sitting in the back seat between Namjoon and Yoongi, the car was wide enough so you didn’t feel trapped. Although that wouldn’t have been too bad either…

There was also plenty of room to move forward so you could stretch your legs out almost completely before they hit the barrier of the front seats. 

The first minutes passed in silence. Chin Ho had turned on the radio after a few minutes and since then Classic Rock music had been coming through the speakers. Whenever you stood at a traffic light, he used his thumbs to tap the rhythm of the song on the steering wheel. It was strangely reassuring.

“Is Alison there when we get there?” Namjoon asked after a while.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I had texted her, but…” You fished your cell phone out of your jacket pocket. A look at the display showed a new message. You immediately opened the messenger app.

Oh, no, what?! I would have really liked to see you, but I’m already on my way. Next time I’ll definitely be there! Or we can make plans, but first enjoy the time with your family. Miss you, xo

A short smile spread on your face as you shook your head and put the phone back. “Okay, Alison’s out,” you answered Namjoon’s previous question.

“Maybe it’s better that way,” Yoongi objected from your right side. You looked at him questioningly. “You can’t lie, Princess, we know that. And Alison has known you long enough to notice it immediately. Besides, there might be questions if she saw us.”

“You’re right, Yoongi.” This was exactly what you were worried about, too. Your gaze fell on his hand, which he had placed invitingly with the inside of his hand facing up on his thigh. Grinning you interlaced your hand with his. 

Almost at the same time, Namjoon’s hand lay down on your left thigh and began to make small circular movements. Now you got an idea why Namjoon had called an extra driver.

Nervously, your gaze slid back into the rearview mirror, but Chin Ho’s gaze was on the road in front of him. Did he know what was happening right behind him? If so, he was incredibly good at hiding it. But it was probably also part of his job. 

You, on the other hand, had blood in your cheeks and slipped back and forth on your seat.

“Relax, Princess,” Yoongi whispered in your ear and you shivered as his hot breath hit your ear.

“We don’t do anything you don’t want,” Namjoon breathed towards you before his full lips lay on your neck. You pressed your lips firmly together, but immediately a disappointed noise came from Yoongi.

“I thought, we were already there, princess? We want to hear you.”

“I know,” you whispered back and were happy with the music from the speakers that hopefully covered up your conversation. “But what about… what about Chin Ho? That may not be the best first impression he can have of me.”

“There’s no better impression than seeing you like this, baby,” Namjoon disagreed with you and turned your face to him. His face was so close to yours that you could see every single color in his iris, smell his perfume and feel his breath on your skin.

“God, you are so beautiful. I’ll never get used to it.” His thumb stroked your lower jaw and your cheek and your skin seemed to burn under his touch. You needed more.

“Joonie,” you whispered and your free hand found its way into his soft hair by itself. You drew him closer to you to bridge the last distance between you, but just before your lips met, he stopped you and came a few centimetres in front of your face to a halt.

“It’s not always that easy, baby.” You could hear the grin in his voice.

“Don’t be so mean,” you complained quietly.

“Yoongi told me that he and Hoseok taught you some manners. Somehow I don’t see much of it right now. Hyung?” The last part was addressed to Yoongi and the younger one cast a glance over your shoulder to look at him.

Yoongi leaned back relaxed and shrugged his shoulders. “Apparently that wasn’t enough.”

“Hm,” was all Namjoon replied, but with the look he cast at you, your abdomen contracted pleasantly full of tension. 

You had already wondered how long it would take after the conversation between you and Namjoon for one of the others to go one step further. Self-control was something you couldn’t attribute to any of the seven men. Well, most of the time. 

“But you’re gonna have to wait a little longer. Sorry, baby.”

“That’s unfair,” you muttered, but when you took a look outside, you noticed that you had already turned into your street. “Oh,” was all you replied.

“I’ll wait in the car,” Chin Ho made himself noticed again and threw you an encouraging smile. You could imagine that you looked far too much at what your thoughts were revolving around. 

You remembered again that Alison wasn’t at home and you had the apartment practically to yourself… Suddenly you couldn’t wait to get out of the car and into the apartment as quickly as you could.

As inconspicuously quick as possible you went up the stairs to the third floor and unlocked the door.

“At least this time you can do it alone,” Yoongi teased you, but you just gave him an evil look.

“Make yourselves at home, I’ll look for the documents,” you said on the way to your room. Your heartbeat accelerated when you heard two pairs of feet following you into your room.

‘Okay, concentrate,’ you told yourself. ‘Documents.’

You went to all four to take out the required documents in the bottom drawer of your closet. After briefly browsing through the files, you found the folder you had been looking for.

You sighed with relief as you stood up again.

“That’s cute,” said Yoongi, clearly amused. He held a small object in his hand and looked at you grinning with his eyebrows raised.

You rushed right at him. “Yoongi! Put that back.” You tried to rip it out of his hand, but it didn’t help.

“Who did you get it from?”

You sighed again, but not with relief this time. “Alison won it for me at the fair. And now put it back.”

“You look sweet when you’re angry. But you know that for sure.” He turned the little pink plush rabbit once more in his hands before putting it back in its place on the shelf. 

“You’re very close, you and Alison,” Namjoon remarked. 

“She’s all I’ve had for years. There wasn’t a day when she wasn’t there for me. She is the only thing I could call family for a long time. At least until now…”

At the same time a smile spread on the faces of the two men.

“Well, do you have your papers?” You nodded. “Then shall we go again?”

“Okay,” you mumbled, disappointed. Did you perhaps misinterpret the signals of the two and they didn’t want to initiate anything at all? On the other hand, Namjoon had also said that you had to be patient and didn’t always get what you wanted directly.

On the way down, you saw Yoongi typing a message on his cell phone. You could only catch a glimpse of the person he was texting before he closed the messenger app and stashed his phone back in his pocket. 

Chin Ho. 

You frowned for a second, but then you dropped it. Probably he had only informed him that you were on your way down again.

Arrived at the car you took your place again in the middle of the back seat. While you were busy with the seat belt, you missed the meaningful look between Yoongi and Chin Ho. 

The latter started the car and made his way back to the villa. Or at least you had thought so.

“Didn’t we come from the other side?” you asked with a frown as you noticed that you were driving in the completely opposite direction from which you had come.

Nobody said a word and you watched Chin Ho extend his right hand towards the dashboard. Seconds later, a darkened window slid between him and you, giving you some privacy. 

“What’s going on here?” you asked now, a little worried. You weren’t at ease when none of the men said anything.

Namjoon’s hand lay on the buckle of your seat belt and pushed it down. Immediately the belt snapped open and rolled backwards. Questioningly you looked at him with big eyes.

“Come onto my lap, baby,” Namjoon replied decisively, but you hesitated.

Namjoon felt your insecurity and helped you by putting his strong hands on your hips and lifting you effortlessly onto his lap. Now you understood what Yoongi must have texted Chin Ho. He was supposed to take another route back so that you would have more time together. 

You bit your lip to hide your smile when Yoongi took your old place next to Namjoon. Namjoon had one arm wrapped around the center of your body while his other was possessively lying on your thigh. 

A look to your right showed that Yoongi had taken a comfortable posture. He had turned slightly towards you and crossed one leg over with the other. His one hand lay loosely on his ankle, while he supported his head with the other hand, elbows resting on the backrest.

His gaze said it all. The last time he had been the giving part, but this time it seemed as if it would be more than enough for him just to watch.

“You don’t know how happy we are that all this is settled between us,” Namjoon whispered in your ear and continued right where he left off. Thanks to the barrier between you and Chin Ho, it was easier for you to let yourself fall this time.

He quickly found the spot where you were particularly sensitive and began to suck on it, which elicited a little sigh from you. Encouraged by this, Namjoon reinforced his effort once again and at the same time began to make circling movements on your thigh.

It was practically the same situation as on the outward journey and yet quite different. You were among yourselves and you could feel Namjoon so close below you, your heart beat faster and your abdomen contracted.

“Namjoon,” you sighed and hoped that was enough to give him understanding of what you needed. What you wanted.

“What is it, baby?” he murmured against your neck.

“More. Please.”

You felt Namjoon’s hot breath on the wet spots he left on your neck when he laughed softly.

“Use whole sentences, princess,” it came from Yoongi. 

“Do you want me to do this?” Namjoon’s hand continued to slide up your thigh, always in circular movements. His fingers came closer, moved away again and came closer again. It almost drove you crazy.

You dropped your head back a little so that you could rest it on Namjoon’s shoulder and closed your eyes. You flinched slightly as one hand gently grazed your cheek. 

“Relax,” Yoongi whispered as he did on the outward journey and you noticed again how the tension in your shoulders was directly released. 

His long fingers stroked further down, over your jaw to your neck. He must be able to feel your heartbeat under his fingertips and as he stroked over your collarbone, it accelerated even further. 

“You have no idea what you’re doing to us,” Namjoon breathed before he laid his hand flat on your crotch. You pulled in the air sharply.

His fingers first skilfully opened the button of your jeans and then slowly, almost teasingly, pulled the zipper down. You opened your eyes carefully and could see just in time how one finger after the other disappeared into your jeans. 

You held on to that arm of Namjoon with one hand so that he knew you didn’t want to back down. You looked right at Yoongi, who watched you both with hungry eyes and a slight smile. 

He had put his hand back on his leg and absorbed what was happening in front of him. You buried your right hand in his hair and pulled him closer to you.

You were a little excited. Compared to what Namjoon was doing right now, a kiss was nothing big, even harmless. Still, the first kiss was a bit intimate, even though Yoongi had already gone farther with you. 

You bridged the last few inches and couldn’t suppress the sigh as your lips met. It just felt so good to be with them. Almost as if you were merging into one person.

His lips were so soft and it was like he was just waiting for you to make the first move.

Therefore, it did not take long for his tongue to ask for entry, which you gladly granted him. He sighed before he drew you closer to him with one hand and intensified the kiss even further. 

That was exactly the moment when Namjoon gently stroked your clitoris. Your pelvis rose slightly from his lap to get as much of his touch as possible.

“Don’t be so impatient,” Namjoon quietly rebuked you, but you could hear the grin in his voice. 

His other hand grabbed your hip and pulled you closer to his chest. Through the movement you put more pressure on his crotch and he couldn’t suppress the soft moaning. Now you also clearly noticed the bulge that had formed in his pants and pressed against your ass. It turned you on even more. You would never have expected to have such an influence on anyone, especially in this way. But the men showed you again and again how much they desired you and it was possibly the best feeling in the world.

“Who is impatient here,” you gave back teasingly.

Namjoon didn’t answer you and you thought he would continue with his slow torture when he surprisingly penetrated you with a finger.

Most of your moaning was intercepted by Yoongi’s mouth, who had again hungrily pressed his lips on yours. His hands had buried themselves firmly in your hair and pulled you decisively and yet cautiously closer to him.

Meanwhile Namjoon had made it his business again to push your impatience to the limit. His finger slowly slipped out of you again before stroking your labia, which were wet from your arousal. 

“God, baby, you’re so wet. So wet and beautiful just for us.”

His middle finger made circling movements in the direction of your clit, but shortly before he reached it, he stopped and moved in the opposite direction again.

You interrupted the kiss with Yoongi and tried to look as far back as you could. “Namjoon!” Your left hand, still clutching his arm, pushed his hand down again. You didn’t want to, you couldn’t wait any longer. “Just use your fingers and fuck me already.”

“Okay, whatever you want. But don’t complain if it’s too much for you,” Namjoon warned you. Again this other side of him came to light that you were secretly afraid of. Or was it fear at all? You had to admit to yourself, however much he made you insecure in those moments, the more it turned you on.

And he was right. His fingers were exactly where you wanted them and he seemed to have enough of the slow way. 

He inserted his middle and ring finger deep into you and did not hold back his strength, so that you were pressed flat against his chest with your back again. 

Immediately he slipped out, only to penetrate you hard again. You could hear how wet you were and already now the knot in your abdomen tightened rapidly. 

Namjoon fucked you with his fingers relentlessly and your moaning mixed with the loud obscene noises of your cunt. When he entered you again, he suddenly stopped moving and you wanted to complain when he started doing a “come here” movement.

Your hand, still tangled in Yoongi’s hair, clung even tighter to it in an attempt to find some hold. 

“That’s it, baby. Spread your legs,” Namjoon ordered you and you immediately obeyed and let your legs slide apart as far as the jeans allowed.

That gave Namjoon the opportunity to penetrate you even further and you had the feeling that you would soon fall apart if he continued at the same speed as so far.

You didn’t care if Chin Ho could hear you. At that moment you were only interested in enjoying the feeling that was spreading throughout you. 

Namjoon, inspired by the sweet noises coming out of your mouth, now used his thumb to give your clitoris the necessary attention, which brought you to the brink of coming.

However, he seemed to be able to read your body accurately and stopped his movements shortly before, fingers buried deep inside you.

You gasped for air as your chest quickly lifted and lowered and tried to turn your head back. “Namjoon-”

Yoongi grabbed your chin and turned your head to him in one quick movement. He put his lips on yours before you could continue to complain. 

You felt your orgasm, so close a moment ago, gradually disappear again. Namjoon also seemed to notice it and began to pull his fingers out of you again.

He started with a slow but steady rhythm and quickly you felt the knot in your abdomen forming again. You flinched in surprise as another hand joined. Yoongi.

This time he was the one who stimulated your clitoris. His practiced fingers exerted exactly the right pressure and orbited them at just the right speed.

It was almost frightening how exactly they knew your body. 

“Come for us, Princess,” Yoongi whispered in your ear and you did just that.

With Namjoon, who had meanwhile picked up a rigorous speed again, and Yoongi, who in contrast was stimulating your clitoris almost agonizingly slowly, your abdomen tightened almost painfully.

You felt your inner walls tightening around Namjoon’s long fingers and your whole body tightening. You could barely suppress an outcry, even though you were sure Chin Ho could hear you anyway. The window pane was opaque, but not soundproof.

“Hyung, she’s getting even tighter,” Namjoon said and his voice was rough and dripping with lust. As you slowly recovered from your orgasm, you clearly felt his hard erection pressing against your buttocks.

“I know, I wonder how Taehyung did it without hurting her,” Yoongi added and you whimpered. You were happy to sit on Namjoon’s lap as your legs were still trembling with excitement mixed with exhaustion. The conversation between the two men didn’t exactly make it any easier.

“She probably likes to be completely filled out. Right, baby?”

You only nodded while your eyes slowly closed. 

“Namjoon-ah, I think it was a little too much,” whispered Yoongi, but his voice slowly drifted away. 

The last thing you heard was the soft hum of the engine before you fell into a deep sleep.

Written 2019-2021. Do not copy, translate or repost without permission.

Tag list: (if you want to be tagged in the next chapters, just let me know ♥️ )

@oddly-drawn-muse @yoongiismytruelove @btsmysteriestolove @unicorntrooper @crazy-fangirl-10 @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore @lyricstae @aretha170 @yoongisdumplingcheeks @bangtxnbxunch @brokencrownqueen @dont-hyuck @xanny91@peaches-422 @kimmie113080 @madisonred88 @peachy-bhun

[seriestrash]

So What Now?

- a tyrus one shot -

Summary: The bench scene aftermath. What comes next?

Word Count: 1799

(read on ao3)

♡ ♡ ♡

Cyrus looks down at his hand cupped in TJ’s, a wide smile plastered on his face. This. This is what he’s been wanting for the longest time now. It felt completely right and yet unreal all at the same time. So much so that Cyrus was genuinely terrified about waking up and finding out it was all a dream. 

“So..” TJ lets out a nervous chuckle and it snaps Cyrus out of his trance. 

TJ might have nervously reached out for Cyrus after they both coyly fished for the other to admit to what they hoped would be requited feelings and although that completely welcomed handhold was a relief, there was so much more Cyrus wanted to discuss. Before Cyrus gets the chance to open up though, they’re interrupted when his name is called. 

“Cyrus?” Buffy’s voice calls out in search of him although she’s not visible. 

Cyrus quickly pulls his hand free from TJ before his best friend surfaces from inside. Cyrus shoots a nervous side glance to TJ and notices the blonde boys expression has dropped. Cyrus frowns a little, hoping TJ knew he didn’t mean anything bad by his action. He actually did it to protect TJ as they hadn’t yet got to discuss just how open TJ was about things. 

“Sorry,” Buffy apologises as she senses she’s interrupted something, “I can come back later.” 

“No, it’s fine.” TJ smiles, “I’m going to go inside and catch up with Marty.” 

“The party is winding up but Marty’s still here.” Buffy can’t help but giggle softly as a result of talking about Marty. 

TJ gives her a confused look for her giddiness but spilts without further question. 

“Did I totally ruin a moment?” Buffy asks with a worried expression as she sits down. “Were you about to tell him? Did you already tell him?” Buffy gets more excited with each passing question. 

“To be continued.” Is all Cyrus offers up in an attempt to brush past it. As much as Cyrus wanted to shout what happened from the rooftop he didn’t want to talk about something in case TJ wasn't ready to. Also, it’s not like Cyrus really knew all the details of that something anyway. 

“I have a good feeling.” Buffy’s smile is wide. “There’s a certain magic in the air tonight.” 

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” Cyrus jokes with a laugh. 

Buffy rolls her eyes but her smile remains. “I heard Kira left pretty early on.” 

“She did.” Cyrus nods. “But I’m more interested in this goofy smile you’ve been wearing since you came outside. Does it have anything to do with a certain someone whose name rhymes with party?” 

Buffy buries her cheek against her shoulder. “I told Marty I like him.” 

“And I’m assuming the feeling was mutual?” Cyrus asks, genuinely ecstatic for his friend. 

Buffy nods with her smile unwavering. “He kissed me. My first kiss.” 

“I want one of those.” Cyrus says longingly. 

“A kiss from Marty?” Buffy jokes. 

“Ew, don’t be gross.” Cyrus gives her a playful shove and giggles become them both. “A first kiss from someone that’s not a girl. No offence to Iris.” 

Buffy lets out a quiet laugh. “It will happen for you, Cyrus.” 

“I know.” Cyrus smiles. “Just not tonight.” 

“You never know. There is a magic in the air.” Buffy restates with a grin. 

“Magic or not I don’t think I’m quite ready for that just yet.” Cyrus half smiles. 

“Not ready for what?” Andi’s voice interrupts them as she takes a seat on the bench. “Is this about TJ? Do we not like him again?” 

“No, things are fine with TJ.” Cyrus shakes his head. “We like TJ. I’ve never not liked TJ.” He adds with a nervous laugh.

“Oh, good. So are we going to tell TJ you like him then?” Andi is excited. 

“We aren’t going to tell him anything.” Cyrus laughs. 

“We are there in spirit.” Andi mumbles as she folds her arms with a pout. 

“I love you guys.” Cyrus gushes as he looks back and forth between his two longest friends. “We might all fall in love with someone or multiple someones one day but I want you two to know you were my first loves.” 

“Cyrus, you’re going to make me cry.” Andi cups her chest and Buffy appears just as touched. 

“Why are you making Andi cry?” Jonah appears and shortly after they’re all joined by Bex and Bowie too. 

The group all sit around the fire and reflect on the night. Andi shows them her now empty shack and shares her art school news. After an emotional goodbye to an era, Cyrus is getting ready to leave the party. As he exits the house he notices TJ sitting on the porch steps. 

“TJ, I thought you left.” Cyrus is happy to see him. 

“I was hoping we could walk home together?” TJ stands. 

“I was going to call my dad but I’d enjoy the walk.” Cyrus nods. 

The two head down the street together, a slight awkwardness lingers between them. 

“I didn’t mean to pull my hand away.” Cyrus finally speaks up and frowns to himself, looking at his feet as they walk. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.” TJ shakes his head. 

“No I do.” Cyrus insists, “I didn't want to let go.” 

“You didn’t?” TJ asks sheepishly. 

“No. I just wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with Buffy seeing us.” Cyrus explains. 

“I guess I hadn’t thought about that.” TJ states. 

“Is there an us?” Cyrus asks bravely although his heart was pounding aggressively in his chest. 

“I hope so.” TJ’s fingers brush lightly against Cyrus’ again, this time he grabs Cyrus’ hand more confidently. 

Cyrus smiles at their locked hands for a moment. “We should probably talk about a few things...” 

“Probably.” TJ agrees. “You start, you’re better at talking.” 

Cyrus didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing but he does take the lead, “So just to be clear this isn’t a friendly handhold?” 

TJ rolls his head forward with a laugh, “No, Cyrus. I like you.” 

“Just checking it’s not some progressive male friendship thing.” Cyrus laughs too. “I like you too,” he adds more softly. 

“I was hoping you did.” TJ says with a smile. 

“So you like me, do you know if you’re-” 

“Gay.” TJ says with a nod and quietly proud of himself. “And you?” 

Cyrus nods. “Have you told anyone?” 

“Just my mom. I’ve been kind of scared to tell people.” TJ admits.

“There’s no rush to tell people. It’s something you get to share when you’re ready.” Cyrus is very understanding.

TJ smiles already feeling more at ease with this conversation, “Have you told anyone?”

“I’ve told Buffy, Andi, Jonah and my parents- All in that order.” Cyrus is riddled with nervous chuckles he can’t help. 

“Wow.” TJ is almost envious Cyrus has opened up so much. “Do your friends know you like me?” He asks sheepishly. 

“My feelings have become increasingly obvious lately.” Cyrus laughs. “I didn’t have to tell them. Buffy and Andi worked it out.” 

“And Jonah?” TJ questions. 

“He hasn’t mentioned it but I wouldn’t be surprised if even he knew at this point.” Cyrus chuckles. 

“Do they think I like you?” TJ asks. 

Cyrus shrugs as he didn't know how to answer. None of his friends explicitly speculated TJ’s feelings but it was always heavily implied when discussing Cyrus’ feelings. “Are you comfortable with me talking to Andi and Buffy about you?” Cyrus asks, “Maybe even Jonah?” 

TJ appears to be thinking about it for a second but quickly nods lightly. “Maybe I could talk to them first? ... Tell a few people about myself.” 

“I think that’s a great idea.” Cyrus affirms, “Spoiler alert, they’re going to be really supportive.” Cyrus adds at an almost whisper with a warm smile. 

TJ smiles too and nervously he asks, “Are you okay if I talk to my mom about you?” 

“You want to talk about me with your mom?” Cyrus’ looks touched, he even has to bite down on his smile. 

“I might have already talked about you a little.” TJ looks away embarrassed. 

“Did she tell you about my embarrassing farewell fumble the other week?” Cyrus frets and TJ can’t help but laugh. 

“Yeah she did.” TJ says with a smile, “She also told me she likes you.” 

“Well that’s a relief.” Cyrus exhales in relief, hearing TJ’s mom approved of him gave Cy a new set of warm and fuzzies.

The two near Cyrus’ house and stop outside his front door. “So what now?” Cyrus questions. “What are we?” 

“I don’t know.” TJ admits with furrowed brows. “Are we... together?” 

“Are we ready for that?” Cyrus asks seriously. 

“I don’t know.” TJ repeats, his expression remaining the same. 

“Well we are both still working on telling everyone who we are.” Cyrus begins, “Maybe we work on that first?” 

“So I should stop holding your hand?” TJ swings their locked arms between them. 

“Let’s not go doing anything crazy.” Cyrus jokes, his grip still tightly on TJ’s hand and the basketball captain laughs softly. 

“Let’s work on the bigger picture.” TJ nods. 

“What’s the bigger picture, coming out or us?” Cyrus glances down at their hands for a moment before finding TJ’s eyes again, with a look like TJ’s answer could disappoint him. 

“It all looks like one picture to me.” TJ smiles softly and Cyrus’ own smile grows wider. 

“To be continued.” Cyrus says perfectly content with their understanding that whilst working on living their truth for everyone to see, their feelings still exist to be built on at a pace their both comfortable with. 

“I’m happy, Cyrus but I’d be lying if I didn’t say this all terrifies me.” TJ exhales nervously. 

“Me too.” Cyrus smiles empathetically, “But we’re going to be okay. You can trust me, Thelonious Jagger Kippen.” Cyrus smiles. 

“I do.” TJ’s grin is soft, “I always have.” TJ leans forward and plants a soft kiss on Cyrus’ cheek sending tingles down his spine and flooding both their stomachs with butterflies. Cyrus needed no more or no less in that moment, that was perfect. Magical even.

“To be continued.” TJ reiterates with a grin. 

The two spend the rest of the school year building on the feelings they have for one another, their immediate circle of friends were in the know but other than that it was new, quiet and mostly just for them. On the last day of school TJ kissed Cyrus and didn’t mind who saw. The two spend their summer dating and by the beginning of their freshman year the two were well and truely offical and out for the world to see. 

x

End Notes: my heart guys, my whole damn heart ahhhh

[brianharoldmayjune]

class mates | brian may

CHAPTER ONE

Brian May x Reader College AU

Summary: First time for anything is usually hard, so when you start your first year of undergrad, you begin to second guess your decisions. What may seem to be a tiny nerdy club to get your mind off of the stresses brough to you by your major, might soon transform into something more meaningful in the long run.

Warnings: Nothing bad in this chapter, cheek blushing, akwardsness, that it! No smut or angst... yet!

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Note: I am terribly sorry if this seems like a boring, textual chapter. I felt the need to explain everything as thoroughly as possible in order to understand the context of everything. Future chapters won’t have lengthy, boring starts like this one! But, nervertheless, I still hope you enjoy this first chapter!

Trying to mind your own business while walking down the sidewalk, multiple shoulders continued to brush your own as you made your way down the busy London street. You had recently moved to the lively area of Kensington to pursue the next step in your life- completing your undergraduate degree. 

Renting a small loft located on the outskirts of the heart of London city, you decided it would be best to live closer to the place you would be spending majority of your time throughout the months to come. Being your first year starting university, a unviersity filled with people you had never met, located in an area you hadn’t grown up in, you knew living in the area would save you the additional first year stress of commuting.

With a sticky note in hand, you had written down your destination prior to leaving your apartment knowing you would most likely get lost without it; and of course, you were right. Your vision was exchanging between your note and the street signs attempting to find the location of the university itself. 

Bringing a hand up to readjust the sunglasses perched on your nose, you continued on your journey down the sidewalk until letters spelling out Imperial College London filled your peripherals assuring you that you were so far walking in the correct direction. Breathing out a dramatic sigh of relief, you mentally prepared yourself for finding the next location, the location that happened to be the destination of your first lecture.

With what took only a few left and rights, you arrived at the front doors of the building where your Intro to Biology lecture would be held. Yes, you were evidently about to major in Biological Sciences. Taking one last glance at your note to memorize the number of the lecture hall, you shoved the piece of paper into your pocket upon embarking into the large brick building. 

You found yourself mesmerized at the many posters plastered across the walls, advertising for the various clubs and events located on the campus. To be quite frank, your nerves were bubbling inside of you as you started to question whether going to post-secondary was the right step for you. I mean, what student doesn’t second guess their educational choices?

With your nerves subsiding within, you found yourself walking into your first lecture hall lined, or should I say crammed, with over a hundred seats and tiny desks. It was pretty intimidating. With desks already occupied with students, you decided to pick a seat near the back corner of the room in hopes of avoiding interaction with the others who were enrolled in the class. It was only your first day, and although making friends seemed to be a go-to idea, it wasn’t exactly your main priority.

Getting out a few pens and a notepad with a few minutes to spare, you tapped your foot anxiously against the floor as you watched the class fill up. With nearly every seat occupied, class soon began right on time. 

Even though the professor was only going over the syllabus and not the hard-core material, you found yourself zoning in and out of attention, something surely other kids were doing. After what felt like an eternity but more realistically around an hour, the professor bid the class farewell till the following week and let you free.

Packing your stuff while making slight glances to the people situated around you, you mentally cursed at yourself for being too socially awkward and too shy, which ultimately  hindered the starting of conversations. Walking out of the hall, intro to biologywas your only class that day meaning you would most likely be on your way back to your loft.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, you stopped yourself as a particular poster taped to the hallway wall grabbed your attention. Referring to a club dealing with astronomy, inviting those majoring and not majoring in physics. You were quick to pull out a pen from your material carrier bag alongside your crumpled sticky note that you had previously shoved into your pocket to drought down the place and time of meeting. 

The topic of astronomy had always seemed to fascinate you, and not having room in your course schedule for electives dealing with astronomical related matter meant joining a club would be in your best interest.

With the first club meeting taking place that night, you continued on your walk back to your flat where you proceeded to take a power nap and cook yourself a quick dinner. Sorting through your clothes, an audible string of shit’sand hurry upcame out of your mouth repeatedly as your frantically rushed around your room looking for something to wear. You could not, I stress could not, be late to the first meeting.

Yeah, you could've just worn what you were wearing earlier that day, but, you wanted to look a touch more presentable knowing that you would be having no choice but to interact with the other goers of the club. Slipping on a pair of jeans paired with a collared shirt that popped out from under a knit shirt, you once again were back to walking down the London sidewalks with the same note in hand. Only this time, the streets weren’t as crowded with pedestrians compared to the morning due to it being a later time in the evening.

Finding the building at a quicker pace then your first lecture, most likely a factor of not many students creating a hassle around the campus, you braced yourself as you stood in front of the door to the club meeting destination. Once again, you found yourself second-guessing your decisions. Was it really a smart idea to join a club dealing with a subject you weren’t solely studying?

As your mind juggled between the opportunities of making friends with the juxtaposing idea of possible humiliation, you were taken out of your thoughts when a soft tap was felt on your shoulder.

“Will you be going in?”

The question was soft yet mixed with slight confusion.

Noticing you were standing in front of the door and blocking the entrance for others, you quickly reached out your hand to grab the door knob, turning your head to get a brief view of the person.

“Sorry.”

That was all you managed to get out, opening the door before walking away quickly to avoid any response from the person. With this being a smaller room compared to your lecture hall, a few desks and chairs were scattered around, facing a black board that was mounted at the front of the room.

Taking a seat at the back of the less intimidating room, you placed your bag on the floor beside you as you rested your elbows on the desk, scoping out the room. There were around fifteen students, including yourself, looking eager as ever to participate in whatever this club had to offer.

The walls, similar to the ones in the hallways, were filled with posters strictly relating to astronomy, picturing different diagrams and layouts of the solar system, milky way, you name it.

“Alright,” a familiar soft voice filled the room at a volume raised just enough for everyone to distinctly hear.

Drawing your attention towards the front of the class, you found yourself eyeing the person that you had minutes before made conversation with, if that could even be classified as a conversation. Giving a slight clear of his throat, he continued.

“Welcome, and I guess thank you for dropping in to today’s first club meeting,” the man spoke with a small smile spread across his face while his hands were held in front of him, fiddling with his fingers.

Taking in the boy’s presence, you couldn't help yourself but aimlessly graze your eyes over his lanky figure. Maybe this club wasn’t going to be as bad as you thought.

“If you were unaware, which I’m sure you guys aren’t,” he said with brief chuckle, earning small giggles from the few students scattered around the room, “we are going to be discussing things in relation to astronomy.” With that, he gestured to the posters covering the walls of the room. The posters that gave the room much more life.  

As he continued to talk, the boy would switch between slight swaying of his body, to quiet finger tapping on the desk closest to him, as he explained the various activities and mini field trips the club would engage in. Taking only twenty minutes to do so, you were more intrigued with what the club had to offer than your mandatory biology course that morning.

“Being a student like you guys, only in my second year of majoring in physics, I am going to make this as fun and interesting as possible,” the boys said with a nod at the end of his sentence, almost as if he were reassuring himself.

“Any questions?”

With a few students asking questions pertaining to missing club meetings and confirming the date of certain events the boy had already planned, you decided it would be better to just listen in and save questions, if any were to arise, for later on during the term.

“Before you guys leave,” the boy spoke after answering the student questions, “if you wouldn’t mind writing a tiny paragraph about what you hope to learn from this club, that would be great.”

He gave a few lose leaf pages of lined paper and a tiny box of pencils to a student sitting at the front of the class, telling them to take one of each and pass them around in case anyone forgot their writing materials.

“Be sure to write your name at the top of the paper along with your major and year just so I get to know you all better.”

With the hint of nervousness lacing his tone, you were getting the feeling this may have been his first time instructing a club as such.

“If you’ve decided, after my short spiel, that this club isn’t for you, no hard feelings but do feel free to leave without writing a reflection,” he spoke, smile failing to fall from his face. The boy did seem passionate about the this branch of physics.

Turning around to grab his own notepad and pencil from his bag, he started to write down his own notes.

“Oh, and not to forget,” he spoke, looking up from his piece of paper, “my name is Brian.”

After his final remarks, he left the students to work on a small reflection as he continued to stand at the front of the class, writing notes of the front pedestal. A few students trickled out without writing anything, most likely indicating that this wasn’t the club for them, though, that wasn’t the case for you.

Taking out your own notepad and a pen, you wrote your name at the top of the paper followed by a few lines of what you were excited to learn about during your time in the club. After a couple of minutes, you tore out the sheet from your notebook, putting your stuff in your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. Walking to the front of the class, you approached the so-called Brian, holding out your paper for him to take.

Looking up from his writing, he held his hand out to take the page from you, the smile that had been presented all class, now being presented to you personally “thank you… y/n,” said with a brief pause as he located your name on the sheet.

Giving him a smile and a small bob of the head as a substitute for ‘you’re welcome,’ you were about to turn away when his words stopped you.

“First year in biological sciences?” Brian questions, clearly already reading through your written response. He too was eager like the remained of the club.

“It is,” you nod, looking up to examine his face as his eyes scanned over your paper. He was sudden to look up from your writing to you.

“I’m taking a few entry level biology courses as my electives,” he acknowledges, placing your sheet down on the pile that was already accumulated from the other student responses, “maybe I’ll see you around!”

He was so soft-spoken that it made you gush inside, a burning heat rushing to your cheeks. Yes, this was only a simple gesture, a simple statement, but it gave you some hope that your first year could turn out to be enjoyable.

“For sure,” you try to contain yourself, refraining from tugging your lips into a smile wider than the one you were already showing, “have a good one, Brian.”

“You as well, y/n!”

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST

@brianmayswifey @caborhapch @mishago @obsessedwithrogertaylor @doyourememberthelaughter @readinghorn @leah-halliwell92 @cheepygirl @shishterfackisback @fatheadtheroger

If you would like to be added to the tag list, feel free to let me know!

- Yours truly, R. 

[piquira]

“Anfield was a nightmare that’s going to stay with us...”

Gerard Pique interview with EL Pais, talks about CDR final this Saturday against Valencia, his feelings after Champions League exit, Valverde, new signings, his future, etc. 

Question: Do you agree with the general idea that this has been your best year as a professional yet or do you think people undervalue other seasons?

R: It’s difficult to value [our performance] because people tend to stay with what’s most recent. I agree its been a good season in which I have played almost all of the games, and feeling physically very good because I haven’t been with the NT. I haven’t had any injuries and I have felt very good and haven’t played a single game feeling pain, which has happened in other seasons. But I do want to give value to other seasons that were phenomenal as well. In other years where we were able to win the treble, for example, we all reached a level that was close to perfection both at an individual level and at a collective level.

Q: Have you notice there being a difference since you stopped playing with the NT?

R: [In total] They’re 4 weeks that help you disconnect and help you catch your breath. Participating in the NT is a huge commitment that never ends. It takes a lot from you at a mental and physical level. 

Q: There was criticism against you for playing for the NT, now there is criticism for you not playing. Do you understand it?

R: I understand it all, it’s part of the game. It’s impossible to have everybody happy, and in this country everybody has their opinion. But that’s why I have to do what’s right for me and the team that pays me. It was just that ideal moment for me [to retire]. 

Q: Are you a better player now than in your 20′s?

R: Different. As the years pass, age holds an important role in my game, despite going to the nutritionist, working out at the gym, and other positive stuff that could potentially help my body. But I do think that I have improved in many things because experience helps make better decision. And that in my position is vital. A while ago, I understood that I needed to be less physical and instead be more intelligent, concentrated, and improve my positioning. Being a centerback requires us to use our head, especially at Barca where we know there is always going to be risks and a lot of meters to cover. If you’re head functions perfectly, you don’t need your body as much. We have to learn how to take care of ourselves so that age isn’t a huge inconvenience.

Q: Does being a veteran player increase the responsibility of what happens in the teams defense?

R: Yes. It’s inevitable. I feel and hurt with every goal we concede because 90% of those goals are errors. And even if i’m not directly involved, i’m the one that has been here the longest and I might have been able to avoid it with better indications. Of course I’m very aware of that.

Q: Should Valverde continue next season?

R: It’s not my job [to decide] because Valverde is my boss and he’s the one that decides if I play or not. It’s irrelevant what I believe. But what I can say is that his gestation of the squad has been excellent these two years. He’s helped us improve in a tactical level and helped us win multiple trophies as well, which we hope to extend with the Copa final. Of course we can always play better. Always! And we know how much Anfield hurt, but I think we’d always be content with winning the league and CDR.

Q: The public argues that the style of play is boring and one dimensional...

R: That goes with out way of living football. Cules and Catalanes are very demanding and we like to look for perfection. It’s not about just winning anymore, but about the way we win. To top it all, Guardiola’s era is very recent which was when we play our best in and where people most like to watch us play. That debate will always remain regardless of who the coach is. But I can assure you that it’s the same style that Valverde wants to play. I’m part of the dressing room and can assure you that’s what he transmits. But it’s not something that depends solely on him, it depends on those who are playing and the rivals we’re facing... now we get pressured very high and it becomes almost impossible to play out of the box, when before it used to be very simple to be able to use our goalie. That’s why sometimes its better to play out with a long pass. Regardless, there are many factors [that can influence] but people tend to focus on the coach or on a certain player when in reality in a team sport there are many variables, many of which are intangible.  

Q: Did it help you guys that Madrid wasn’t much competition in the league?

R: WHen one of the two isn’t performing at the level expected, it always helps the other team. We have been very regular and solid with out results. I imagine that Cristiano Ronaldo leaving has influenced somehow because football can be seen in different forms and one of them is through statistics. You have to have a player that can score goals every year, which they lost when he left. 

Q: Is that a warning [for Barca] for when Messi leaves?

R: For that we don’t need any warnings. When Leo leaves we’ll suffer for sure. But the extent and time for which we do, will depend on how the club decides to adapt to his farewell. 

Q: Do you think substituting you will be complicated?

R: Not much. We’re all here temporarily and that’s something you learn with time. It could take months or maybe even a couple of season but in the long run we’re all going to be replaced. The day will come when another player will be better because football is always evolving. Now it is more spectacular, more technical, and physical. I always say that the best defenders in history are the ones playing now because they are much more complete than those of the past. Adding context, its possible that Beckenbauer was the best, but if you compare him with a modern defender, he probably wasn’t better with the ball, maybe he was slower, could have read the game less... Before, for example, they used to be far more lenient with fouls, you had to practically kill a player to be sent off. Now we’re much more exposed in that sense. It’s the evolution of the sport, and that’s that. 

Q: Can Barca evolve with De Jong and possibly De Ligt as new players on the squad? Does it worry you to have another centerback on the team?

R: They’re players that understand out football because we’ve sipped from the same fountain, which is Cruyff’s. And if I were worried about the defenders that the team has added since my arrival, I would have not been able to sleep in years! It’s been one of the positions in which the team has mostly added recently. I think it’s very logical and I like the competition. I don’t know what’s going to happen but De Ligt has a lot of qualities, especially with his age. And De Jong has a lot of potential and future. He’s an exciting prospect because of his style of play.

Q: Will there be another documentary about Griezmann’s decision?

R: No, I won’t do it. Once was enough. It’s been a while since I last talked to him but we’ll see what happens. I don’t know much more. 

Q: After losing in the first leg in both Levante & Sevilla, and with many substitutes in the team, it seemed as if not a lot of value was given to winning the CDR this season, is that true?

R: Those games were in January where there were many games in dispute. People might sense that there’s an ideal starting XI but I think the coach has regulated the squad perfectly. We had some losses and we were able to comeback because we are stronger at Camp Nou. But let it be known that we don’t like to throw away any competition. Passing to the final was very celebrated among us, and when we get to a final we intend to win it. We are a team that likes to win. We’re the team that has won the Copa the most and that shows how much we value it. 

Q: What has been the discourse that has most been repeated in the dressing room to be ready for the final after the fall in Anfield?

R: That we have to end the season well so we can end on a good note. Although Valencia is very dangerous team and they’ve gained momentum in the last run of the league. They also did a fine job in the European League up until the semi finals. They are a tough rival. 

Q: And what happened at Anfield?

R: When something like that happens, it’s just that everything or almost everything goes wrong. I think that our mentality was affected by what happened last year in Roma because it’s still fairly recent. With the first goal being scored, which happened very early on, unconsciously the images of Roma were there. Then the next two goals happened quickly as well, and that just seemed all to much like what happened last year. Surely it was a mental block, but also we lacked football. We lacked a lot of things. And they pressured high with a lot of intensity, Anfield also played a role there... we just weren’t capable. Something it happens. It was a tough day. It has cost us a lot to pick ourselves up from this because even as the days past you can’t get over the loss. It’s a loss that we’re going to remember for a long time. But we still have to move forward.

Q: We also didn’t see the team motivated, or moved by the goals that were conceded. 

R: It was a difficult situation. You see the team that isn’t working, while they’re pushing forward all while last year’s loss is still so recent. But we can’t torture ourselves either. It’s true it’s one of our worse defeats but that’s how sports work. It was a nightmare and we have to take responsibility for that otherwise it’ll happen again. We also have to understand why it happened so that it can help us improve because we want to lift the Champions league again!

Q: Do you still see yourself as Barca’s president in the future?

R: For a while I was very excited about the prospect, and I don’t shut the door to the idea, but I don’t see it happening in the near future. I have so many other things happening in my life right now, that I want to concentrate on those things first.

[deathgatesideblog]

Top 10 “Haplo loves Alfred” quotes, ranked

Under the read more, exactly what it says on the tin. This is obviously a non-inclusive list, and honestly there are so many quotes that I’m sure I forgot some good ones, but, y’know, here ya go. 

10. Serpent Mage, Haplo compares the color of his runes to Alfred’s eyes.

The sigla were as yet only faintly visible– a blue as pale and weak as the eyes of that fool Sartan, Alfred.

A pretty incredible quote which reminds us how much Alfred is on Haplo’s mind. There’s basically no reason for Haplo to be thinking about Alfred in this context; Haplo just sees his faded runes and the comparison he comes up with is Alfred’s eyes. This gets the tenth spot because while it IS pretty wild that Haplo would make this comparison with regards to something as important to his life and even identity, it IS with his weakened, faded runes, and he DOES still manage to do it as insultingly as possible.

9. Hand of Chaos, Haplo’s journal entry.

What do you think of your power for good now, Alfred? …As you fight for your life in the Labyrinth. I’ll tell you what I think of it. I think it’s a lot like you– weak and bumbling. Although I must admit that you came through for us in our fight against the serpents– if that was you who turned into the serpent mage, as Grundle claimed. But when it came to standing up for yourself against Samah (and I’ll lay odds that you could have taken the bastard), you ‘couldn’t remember the spell.’

Another classic “Haplo tries to insult Alfred and inadvertently reveals how much he thinks about him” line, here. Not only is there the comparison to a power for good to oppose the dragon-snakes-- sorry, a “weak and bumbling” power, my bad-- but even larger to me is Haplo’s insistence that Alfred could definitely have beaten Samah in a battle of magic. That’s SAMAH, universally considered to be THE most powerful Sartan.

8. Elven Star, Haplo feels an affinity towards Alfred.

The Patryn had met only one Sartan before—the bumbling man of Arianus who called himself Alfred Montbank. And though Haplo hadn’t recognized it at the time, he came to realize that he felt an affinity for Alfred. Deadly enemies, they were strangers to the rest of the world—but they were not strangers to each other.

It’s a bit unclear to me whether the text is saying that Haplo realized he felt this affinity during Elven Star or not until later books. He also comments in Elven Star that Alfred put him to sleep during Dragon Wing, and then is surprised when Alfred tells him this again in Into the Labyrinth, so it’s possible that some of the narration is meant to be Haplo’s point of view after the full series, rather than during Elven Star specifically.

That being said, if this is meant to be his thought process during Elven Star, it’s pretty brilliant that he already admits to feeling this affinity for Alfred already, even before their mind swap in Fire Sea. Plus, it makes his scoffing at Alfred’s line about feeling a kinship towards him even funnier.

Either way, though, it’s fantastic line about how close Haplo feels to Alfred, and in such poetic terms, too!

7. Into the Labyrinth, Haplo worries about Alfred.

“And to think I’ve been worrying about you in the Labyrinth, picturing you dead or worse. And all this time you’ve been here.” He waved his hand. “Perfectly safe.” “You were concerned about me?” Alfred asked, his wan face brightening. Haplo made an impatient gesture. “Of course I was concerned. You can’t walk across an empty room without causing some sort of catastrophe.”

Yet another “Haplo disguises how much he cares about Alfred by insulting him, and it really doesn’t work” moment, and by Into the Labyrinth the disguise really, really isn’t working anymore. Oh, of course Haplo, you were just concerned because Alfred is clumsy, that’s why you were worrying about him and picturing him dead! In the words of The Princess Bride: “[He] wasn’t nervous! ...Well, maybe [he] was a little concerned, but that’s not the same thing.”

6. Fire Sea, Haplo is entranced by Alfred’s dancing.

The feet that could not take ten steps without falling over themselves were suddenly executing intricate steps with extraordinary grace and delicacy. His face was grave and solemn, wholly absorbed in the music. He accompanied himself with a grave and solemn song. Hands wove the runes in the air, his feet replicated the pattern on the floor. Haplo watched until he discovered some wayward part of himself feeling touched and entranced by the beauty.

You know that scene in a TV show or anime where the main character is like “of course I don’t have feelings for [other character]!” and then the shot goes to said other character smiling or doing something cute with, like, the bright, glossy filter and then back to the main character staring and then embarrassedly forcing themselves to look away? This is that scene in narrative form. And I love it.

5. Fire Sea, Alfred’s yelling/swearing makes Haplo laugh.

Haplo stared at Alfred in blank astonishment. Then the Patryn’s lips started to twitch. He tried to control himself, but he, too, was tired. He began to laugh. He laughed until he was forced to lean against the rock wall to support himself, laughed until he tears crept from beneath his eyes. Dabbing at blood seeping from a cut forehead, Haplo grinned, shook his head. “That’s the first time I ever heard you swear, Sar--” He paused. “Alfred,” he amended.

What is there to say, really? Haplo finds Alfred swearing and yelling as funny as I do, and probably also just as endearing. The fact that this scene takes place in the middle of them all super stressed and trying not to die makes it even better, as does the fact that this is all spurred on by Alfred saving Haplo’s life and Haplo being irritated at the thought of owing his life to Alfred again. Seeing Haplo's sudden flip from talking to Alfred like his enemy to talking to him like his friend, and using his name sincerely for the first time since finding out he’s a Sartan is also fantastic.

4. Fire Sea, Haplo lets Alfred go.

“You know what’ll happen to you in the Nexus.” Haplo didn’t look at him when he spoke, he kept his gaze on the dog. “You know what my Lord will do to you.” “Yes,” Alfred answered. Haplo hesitated a moment, either deciding on his next words or deciding whether or not to say them. When he made his decision, his voice was hard and sharp, cutting through some barrier within himself. “Then, if I were you, I wouldn’t be around when I woke up.” Haplo closed his eyes. Alfred stared in amazement, then smiled gently. “I understand. Thank you, Haplo.”

On some level, maybe this shouldn’t be ranked as high as it is, because I highly doubt that this is exactly specific to Alfred. By this point, we know that Haplo is reluctant to see anyone else get punished, hurt, or killed that doesn’t deserve it. But it gets up to fourth because this is the scene that really hammers in just how much has changed about Haplo’s feelings, and his feelings towards Alfred specifically, in the span of just one book; he doesn’t believe Alfred deserves to be punished for being a Sartan, anymore. That’s... pretty big. And it all just goes to show how much Haplo’s character arc as a whole is connected to Alfred’s influence on him and his influence on Alfred.

3. Seventh Gate, Haplo trusts Alfred

Alfred looked pained. “You don’t trust me. I don’t blame you. I know that in the past I’ve let you down, but, truly, I’m strong now. I am–” “I know you are,” Haplo said. “I trust you. I want you to trust me.”

Just a short moment, here, but all the more impactful as the context is Alfred volunteering to possibly sacrifice himself to close Death’s Gate, trying to convince Haplo to leave him to avoid danger, and Haplo vowing to stay behind to protect Alfred, potentially risking his own life, in the process. Not only is Haplo agreeing to risk his life for Alfred’s sake, here, he’s agreeing to do it knowing Xar is literally right there with them and he WILL have to fight Xar. And, of course, he reassures Alfred that he does trust him, and that he knows that he’s become strong, now!

2. Seventh Gate, Goodbyes and the hug.

"Farewell, my friend,” he said. “Thank you for bringing me back to life. Haplo took Alfred’s hand, then embraced the startled and embarrassed Sartan. “Thank you,” Haplo said, his voice gruff, “for giving me life. Farewell, my friend.” Alfred was extremely red. He patted Haplo’s back awkwardly, then turned away, wiping his eyes and nose with his coat sleeve.

I know we’ve been talking about this quote a lot recently, but like. Just look at it. How Alfred goes for the handshake and Haplo takes it and then is like “wait a minute, heck no, we might die here and I’M GONNA HUG YOU, DAMMIT.”

And bonus points for “Thank you for giving me life,” which is not only a parallel to the thank you Alfred’s already given him, but also a HUGE fuck-you to Xar, who he KNOWS is STANDING RIGHT THERE, considering Xar’s whole “I gave you life so I can take it” mentality. We don’t talk about it enough, but. What a goddamn power move. 

1. Into the Labyrinth, Alfred brings Haplo to the Vortex

Then strong arms caught him, held him. A voice spoke to him, soothed him. All pain vanished. He rested, drifting on the water’s surface, at peace with himself. The voice called again. He opened his eyes, looked up and saw… Alfred.

This is... just. I mean, look at that. A paragraph like that wouldn’t be all that out of place in a straight up romance novel. I mean. Strong arms holding him... his voice soothing him and erasing his pain... the sense of peace... the dramatic ellipses before Alfred’s name... I honestly don’t know how to talk about this paragraph without just rewriting it, because seriously, look at it. Haplo the sentimental poet strikes again.

If there’s any reason that this shouldn’t be the number 1 quote it’s that this line of pureness finishes the chapter and then sends us back to Pryan’s heterosexual nonsense for multiple chapters, which is quite frankly an act of pure homophobia.

Just kidding, obviously, but like... wow.

Anyway thank you for reading my list, Happy Valentine’s Day y’all.

[theaterwit]

Skittles Commercial The Broadway Musical The Essay

So, this is how I spent my Sunday...

I was up at four am and at the airport by 5:15am.  But WHY?

I had a mission. I was off to meet my friend Tim in NYC.  We were about to see

Yes.  Will Eno wrote a thirty minute Broadway musical that will open and close today. One performance only. 

I’ve known Will for about twelve years and since we just finished working on The Realistic Joneses, it was pretty much a must-see. On the way in, I saw this flyer on the train.

Obviously, I called. “Will my life be transformed by 1:30 PM today?“

Keano:”Very transformed. Your spirit is strong and ready. Believe in yourself”

At 1pm, Tim and I arrive at Town Hall. It's packed.  The line to pick up tickets stretches around the corner. A woman is selling T-shirts outside the theater for $10.  (Oddly, the T-shirts *inside* the theater are $20.) The mood in the room is ... buoyant. I do not know if this is a love of Skittles, an excitement about the difficult-to-get-tickets-for event or a carefully group curated ironic positioning in relation to the event.

I'm pretty amused already, and the gentleman to my left is bouncing with enthusiasm. He's brought his 10 year old daughter. It's the first time he's been at Town Hall since performing as a child dancer in a ballet show 20 years ago. I tell him that Skittles Commercial The Broadway Musical is virtually guaranteed to be the same experience so it's great he gets to share his youth with her. It's her first live musical. I don't know what 10 year old me would have thought was going on. I ask her and she says "I like Skittles, so..." and shrugs.

I look through the program and discover to my delight that the director of this epic is none other than Sarah Benson, the artistic director of Soho Rep, a downtown theatre I have a little bit of a crush on (the theater, not the AD). Someone at DDB Needham is a subversive genius. We may never know who thought this up, but if I ever find out, they'll be the first person I buy a drink for at Soho House.  The second person (if not the same person) is Nathaniel Lawler, the copywriter/lyricist co-credited with Will on the book.

The lights dim with a musical fanfare and we're off.

And the next 30 minutes are freaking hilarious while combining a deep questioning about advertising, the communual ethics of the event itself, and a look at the performative dynamics between the show and the live audience in this hall.

And it's about mortality: death, and what we leave behind.  And Skittles. In three very short acts.

So, what actually happens in Skittles Commercial The Broadway Musical?  It's honestly difficult to describe but here's the plot as detailed as I can recall, and no doubt horribly reductive:

Part I

Several NYC residents are at a bodega before the Super Bowl. One of them is a regular, the others are there to buy contact lens solution or a snack.  No one is there to buy Skittles. The first two minutes are straight up Will Eno. The characters are in a mild and gentle existential crisis. There is a big game, but they are ambivalent toward it. There is no contact lens solution. No one seems likely to leave the store. There is no mention of Skittles, although there are several references to the futility of existence.

Then Michael C. Hall enters in an absolutely genius and ridiculous cat costume. He exudes weary despair and wanders around the store, occasionally slipping into his cat persona and batting at objects on the shelves and cat toys. Everyone on stage is excited and awkward about this celebrity appearance in the bodega.

Michael C. Hall explains that he is doing a Super Bowl commercial. No, not for TV. For the stage. He's feeling like this might be a big mistake and sings a ballad about this ambiguity ("This Might Have been a Bad Idea"). Will he still be respected for participating in such a stunt? Is this the ultimate sell-out? Or—after he tastes a Skittle—a wholehearted endorsement of a product he actually loves and will he become famous for the show we are watching at the moment. Or maybe he has to sing that because we're still in a commercial.

The bodega owner yells "NO!!" and tries to fend off something in the house with a broom. Musical flourish and he returns to the action.

At this point, someone in the audience stands up and interrupts the show to ask a question. (“Actually, a two part statement and a follow up question.”) She's trying to understand what's going on.  Another member interrupts to answer her.  A third person in the balcony complains he can't see anyone who's talking at the moment. A fourth man says this is all very well, but shouldn't we be using this time together in the spirit of the Town Hall and discuss something important, like a national high speed rail system? Multiple audience members get involved. Michael C. Hall gets increasingly impatient with all the interruptions. He's one angry kitty. He says he knew this was a terrible idea and says the show is over.  He walks off. The curtains close. House lights up.  

The interrupting audience members get up and leave, disgruntled, including several who hadn't spoken.  About a minute of silence follows. No one in the audience is talking. I am chortling (quietly).

Part II

House lights dim again, curtains open and the bodega has been replaced with an exterior of the Town Hall, complete with table selling the $10 T-Shirts.  Michael C. Hall (to be clear, I keep repeating his full name because the characters always say it in full) is leaving the theater.  The heckling "audience" from the first part descend on him (including the $10 T-shirt vendor), complaining that he abandoned the show and they didn't get the experience they had hoped for. McH argues that it is only a commercial and they didn't miss anything important. In a Pirandello-esque twist, he reminds them that they are all characters in the commercial anyway so it's all still happening. One of the women argues that she couldn't say anything horrible about Skittles ("they make you sad") because Skittles wouldn't write anything like that for a commercial.  Michael C. Hall replies "Wierdly enough, they did."  

The cast sings "Advertising Ruins Everything".  In despair and fury, they turn on Michael C. Hall and the bodega for betraying them.  They pull the exterior drop aside and rush the bodega owner and his broom, tearing apart the set in a Baccanalian frenzy.

Obviously, they kill Michael C. Hall in a flurry of lights and smoke, which brings us to...

Part III

As the smoke clears, Michael C. Hall reappears over his body, wrapped in white plastic chains in a lovely Jacob Marley/Christmas Carol moment. He's now in the afterlife, where he has a brief conversation with Winston Churchill and an even briefer conversation with Amelia Erhardt. Michael C. Hall is now doomed to walk eternity regretting his life choices. He and the chorus sing "This Definitely Was a Bad Idea".  

They eat Skittles.

End of play. The audience cheers.

While I can't recreate the wit of the thing, I'm hoping this helps everyone get a sense of the essential weirdness and theatricality of the experience. Mars was filming an archival copy, but I honestly hope that they don't release it. Benson, Eno and Hall made an inspired little piece of NYC theater mythology that probably can't be recreated but which I will enjoy recounting for years. It was a delight. Well worth 1400 miles of travel in a single day to see. Plus I didn't have to pretend to care about the Super Bowl, so the day was a win-win for me.

After the audience left, I got a farewell stage shot. Everyone off to Sardi’s for a celebration.

And If you've seen The Realistic Joneses (and if not, why not?), I will leave you with one final crossover thought:

"I like Skittles.  Skittle."