#but the guitar lessons cues too? hell

[puppys-rhythm-heaven]

frog hop 2 bops but it's also Peak Rhythm Hell for my brain cuz whenever it plays my brain's just like "what if i autofilled the cues AND also the lyrics for young love rock 'n' roll AND also the frog hop 2 guitar lesson cues" and it is extremely hellish-

[simplytheevebest]

Stay With Me, Sway With Me

Author's Note: I wrote this ages ago as a little writing exercise and decided what the hell? I'll post it. Fluffy Silrah inspired by the OG cartoon and a scene where the girls have to clean Alfea without magic. Enjoy! Title is from Michael Bublé's "Sway"

On Ao3

Saul scrapes a nail against the tree sap staining his uniform with a scowl, still picking pine needles from his hair. He’ll have to see if Farah or Ben can get it out: the fourth years are easily the most reliable and disciplined, and yet not immune to the novelty of smacking each other with sap-covered pine branches during downtime. Hopefully the fifty laps they’ll be starting with tomorrow will clear some of that questionable judgement from their heads. He rounds the corner, catches wind of the voices floating from the direction of the canteen and recalls the girls from the Winx suite are serving their detention tonight for whichever ill-fated decision they’d made recently. He’s inclined to continue on his way, but pulls up short when he catches the opening riffs of some ridiculous pop song.

Trusting his instincts, he creeps along the upper corridor to peer down at the girls: sure enough, they’re not cleaning the canteen, as they’d been instructed, not really. The argument could be made they're doing the opposite: their broom and mop handles are twisted the wrong way around, likely scattering dust and grit and dirty mop water as they’re pointed up at the ceiling in lieu of guitars and microphone stands. More than one pair of shoe-covered feet stand atop the tables, dancing across them one after the other as the girls sing along. A scowl lifts the corner of his mouth. Idiots. He knew Bloom had an irrational aversion to rules, but he’d figured Aisha, at least, could keep them in line. He wonders how much they’ll be laughing and dancing when he’s got them running laps until their legs fall off.

Movement on the other end of the corridor catches his eye and he raises his gaze to find Farah watching them too, her arms folded and the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of her lips. She raises her head at his approach, pressing a finger to her lips.

“How long have they been at it?” He whispers.

“About an hour.”

“Seriously? And this is what they’re doing?”

“It’s fine Saul.”

“This is meant to be a punishment,” he reminds her, but Farah shakes her head, her gaze fond and bordering on melancholy.

“No, it’s meant to be a lesson. Rosalind was forever confusing the two, and I know better than anyone the fear that fosters, when you think you aren’t allowed to make mistakes. I don’t want the girls thinking they can’t come to me if they’re in trouble.”

Saul sighs, leans against the wall just out of sight, watching Farah watch her girls.

“They know they can, Farah, they trust you.”

“I know,” she murmurs, distracted, then smiles softly in his direction, “I do. But they’re just children Saul, they deserve to have a little fun.”

“Even when they’re meant to be cleaning the canteen without magic?”

“It’ll take me seconds to clean it with magic,” Farah counters, and Saul doesn’t need to tell her how soft he thinks she’s gotten; she feels it in their bond and shoots him an unimpressed look he returns with a rueful grin, head ducked to hide his amusement. Beneath them, whatever playlist they have going switches to something a bit slower and the girls take that as their cue to make a proper attempt at the cleaning. Farah straightens to retreat, presumably back to her office, and if she does, Saul will retreat to his own quarters for a shower and a reheated dinner, separate, alone. He reaches for her arm before his mind can catch up with his impulses.

Farah darts a questioning glance his way, but Saul settles on his choice, drawing her close, one hand around her waist, the other lacing their fingers, close enough he can feel her when he takes a deep enough breath.

“Saul,” her tone is soft, laced with amusement, as though she thinks he’s being funny. The lightest tug on their linked hands, an attempt to get him to let go, to put an end to this playful physical banter, but Saul holds tight, otherwise she’ll truly think he’s kidding. She stills when he holds her tighter, perhaps feels the shift within their bond when he ducks his head to the side of her face.

“Dance with me?” He asks, barely a whisper across the shell of her ear. Her fingers are loose in his own, but then she returns his grip and Saul takes that as a yes, tugging them far enough from the archways not to be seen, steps following the melody of the music wafting up to them. Neither are strangers to the grandiose functions Luna throws, and there are many a night between their shared history of similar dances as this, but none have ever felt this special, this intimate. Perhaps the girls have finished cleaning and gone to bed, perhaps the music has stopped, it hardly matters, their steps slowing to a gentle sway, Farah’s hand on his shoulder, head on his chest, tree sap be damned, his own arms still wrapped securely around her waist, holding her close. It’s a spell neither wants to break, but the answer as to whether the girls have left is answered with the jarring crash of a mop bucket and disgruntled blame that has Farah jolting in his arms, coming back to herself and where they are, what they’re doing. She makes to pull away, and ordinarily, Saul would let her without question or protest. This time, he doesn’t.

“Saul-”

“If I let you go, I’m worried you’ll run, and we’ll never talk about this again.”

There’s a brief pause before Farah tips her head back to look at him, “Talk about what? I can’t-”

“I’ll say it,” Saul threatens, lips a hair’s breadth from her own, leaning purposefully into the space she’s created, “Because I think you’re ready to hear it.”

He pulls back himself only to look at her properly, “Are you?”

The lack of response in their bond is expected, Farah keeping her cards close to her chest, just as she always has, terrified of revealing the heart she carries on her sleeve at the risk of getting hurt. But Saul’s tired of waiting, tired of wanting. He loosens his hold, a silent warning, and an out, if she wants it. He’s almost sure she will, as she has before.

“Say it.”

“What?”

“Say it,” Farah repeats, and Saul leans forward again.

“I love you.”

She closes the distance between them, hands on his shoulders, his on her hips, angling immediately to deepen the kiss they’ve waited too long to share. He splays his hands across her back; hers slide up his neck into his hair, tug him impossibly closer so he’s leaned the slightest bit over her, their heights almost matched, breaking only when air becomes an absolute necessity.

“I love you too,” she’s breathless, and her pins are loose; Saul wants nothing more than to slide them free from her hair and that he might get the chance has a smile tugging insistently at his lips.

“Well?” Farah demands, and Saul chuckles softly.

“I… have sap on my shirt. And it might’ve gotten in your hair.”

“What?” Farah’s hand flies to her curls and Saul grins, tugging her close to press a kiss to her forehead.

“I’m teasing. But I wanted to let you know, just in case.”

“It’s easily gotten out, if we head up to my suite,” Farah’s hands fly across the front of his uniform, searching for the offending spot with such light touches it sets him alight. She leans to breathe into his ear, “I guarantee you won’t need it anyway.”

And in case he has any misconceptions about her intentions, her fingers grasp meaningfully at the hem of his jumper; Saul huffs impatiently, biting back a groan, and tugs her hands up to his chest.

“You’ll be the death of me woman.”

“Not until I’m done with you,” she whispers against his lips, and he tugs her close to capture them in his own, leading her further down the hallway and up the stairs, before the girls really do finish with their cleaning. Or not-cleaning. Saul finds he doesn’t really care either way.

[tlou-1]

Joel x Reader - Home (Chapter 7)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13| Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 TBA

Chapter 7 - I Can Handle Myself (Joel gets protective but you're a girl that can handle a situation on her own)

“I really don’t mind taking the afternoon patrol tomorrow” you chirp to Jesse and Molly while you put some glasses away behind the bar. 

“I don’t get it, a few weeks ago you could barely do one patrol together but now you don’t mind?” Molly huffs. It was true in the passing weeks Joel and you had signed up to patrols together, it was a good excuse to get some time alone (even if it included occasional the infected some days). 

“Like you said, we can’t keep avoiding each other and the patrols are important” you shrug at her. If she suspects anything she doesn’t say a word about it. 

Joel and you had both wanted to keep what was going on between you private, hell neither of you had even talked about what you were to each other. You would sneak around on patrols, if it was a quiet day you would be lucky and be able to fit in time for other activities. Guitar lessons meant you could visit his house without anyone thinking too much of it but you didn’t stay often if ever, Joel didn’t want to confuse Ellie which was understandable if you hadn’t even defined your relationship to each other. 

As if on cue Joel walks into the Tipsy Bison and sits alongside Molly and Jesse. “Evening Molly, Jesse” he nods to them. He doesn’t even need to ask before you are there with a beer for him. “Jesse needs the two of us out on patrol in the afternoon tomorrow, that okay with you?”.

“Sure, that’s fine by me” he replies sounding unbothered. You can see Molly looking between you both trying to put her finger on whatever she thinks is going on but before she can Jesse announces they should “hit the hay for the first patrol tomorrow”. 

“You are early” you sigh after they leave. 

“I know but I thought I could sit for a bit and keep you company before our lesson.” Joel says, his eyes fixated on someone. You look around and see his eyes are on Aiden, who was being rowdy as he had obviously had too much to drink. Joel had never warmed to him after the dance but you couldn’t blame him. Aiden tried to be near you, speak with you at any given opportunity and he still hadn’t seemed to be able to take the hints and polite rejections you had gave him.

You begin cleaning some of the surfaces before switching over shifts for the night. You can see someone walking towards the bar but avoid eye contact hoping that if you looked up the clock would show it was time to finish up but when you looked up it wasn’t 7pm and Aiden was heading towards the bar. His hand reached across the bar to stop yours from cleaning, “Y/N I’d like another refill”, his hands are still on your as if he was looking for an excuse to hold on. You can hear Joel’s bar stool begin to scape the floor as he starts to shift in his seat.

“I think you have had enough tonight but try your luck with Rob, he’s got the next shift in 5 minutes” you say pulling your hand away which Aiden seems to scoff at before returning to his table. 

“I swear to god Y/N if he doesn’t -“ Joel begins as you move over to him.

“Don’t worry about me cowboy, I can handle myself’ you wink at him trying to lighten the mood but he doesn’t seem too convinced as he replies with a simple “mhm”. You clean a couple more glasses before you see Rob appear spot on at 7pm, ‘thank god’ you think to yourself.

Picking up your jacket and bag from the side of the bar you begin to make your way towards the door when Aiden gets up from his table and blocks your path.

“Why don’t you stay with me for a drink?” He is slurring his words and you can smell the alcohol of his breath (the last thing he needed was any more). 

“Not tonight Aiden, I think you have had enough” you say rather sternly as your try to move past him but he is in your way again.

“Do you think you are too good for me or something?” He takes a step closer toward you.

“I think you’re drunk and need to get out my way” You say through gritted teeth. Joel is getting up from his seat and moving towards you as other people in the bar begin to look. 

“You’re just an up tight bitch!” Aiden snarls as he puts his hand on you tightly shaking you and that was the final straw. 

You clench your fist together tightly and with a good bit of force behind you clock Aiden across the jaw. He hits the floor like a sack of flour by the time Joel is by you side, looking at Aiden lying on the floor and then back at you. “See? told you I could handle myself” you say trying to catch your breath still, shaking your stinging hand. Joel is lifting the unconscious man back into his booth “I mean yeah but christ I didn’t think you’d knock the idiot flat out, even is he was asking for it”. Once Joel had finished lying Aiden down, he turned back to you and put his finger under your chin accessing your face “Don’t worry he barely touched me” you roll your eyes at an over concerned Joel but you had to admit it felt nice.

People had been watching the situation between the three of you unfold and had came over to see about Aiden. They asked if you were alright but you could see them looking over at Aiden and then between you and Joel “He will be fine, Rob just get him some ice and if he doesn’t come round 15 minutes, get someone to walk him home” you shout to the man behind the bar who returns a nod. 

“I think it’s time to go Rocky” Joel whispers in your ear as he guides you to the exit by the small of your back “Who is Rocky?” You question when you reach outside. Joel lets out a proper laugh, the one that you hear very rarely unless he is with you, Ellie or sometimes Tommy. “He was a boxer in a movie but that’s where the similarity ends darlin. I certainly wasn’t turned on when Rocky knocked anyone out” he smiles raising an eyebrow at you and you can feel a slight warmth inside your chest at the prospect of what Joel was going to do to you when you were alone. 

[yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen]

due to me somewhat recently finding out that both oscar and garrett can sing like sons of apollo (exhibits a & b below), i’ve been thinking of this sweet domestic scenario:

santi, benny, and doc are sitting in lawn chairs around a small fire in the backyard. hot dogs and s’mores are long eaten, the moon bright and full and the stars twinkling prettily in a cloudless sky. santi has an old acoustic resting on his lap, skilled fingers tuning it while admiring doc and benny’s playful banter.

the guitar had been leaned against an old oak tree within arm’s reach just before the fire was built, santi having a feeling that he’d be wanting to use it tonight without having to leave their fire to retrieve it. his laughter is bright and content as he watches benny pull doc into his lap, the medic making a joke about falling through the thin material as the dark blond’s hands squeeze at her sides.

it takes the other two longer than it should have to notice the old acoustic’s presence, but once santi’s voice starts to float through the wafts of smoke and harmonize with the cicadas their attention on him was rapt. he expected benny and doc to start singing with him early on; they were just too enthralled with santi’s voice and the peace that wrapped the shorter man in a comforting blanket to join before the halfway mark.

they applauded him (benny cheered obnoxiously loud) once the song ended, smiles wider than the moon was full. despite being used to an abundance of praise from the two, santi could feel the tips of his ears burning like the fire in front of them.

benny pats doc’s thigh as a cue for her to stand as he leans across the small gap between his and santi’s chairs to make grabby hands at the guitar. santi’s eyebrow arches with curiosity and maybe a tiny bit of doubt of the seriousness of benny’s actions. to him, the more realistic expectation was that benny would strum haphazardly — which would cause santi to need to retune the poor acoustic after the miller was done with it — and make up a weird little ditty about their trio. doc caught santi’s attention as she maneuvered herself onto his lap, his hands immediately on her.

what santi didn’t expect was benny to strum actual chords in a cohesive manner and it sound pretty, the taller man’s voice to sound rich and raspy and he dare say, almost sexy. doc clearly thought it was judging by the way she held onto every note with a vice grip, not wanting to let it go. he knew benny could sing, hell he did it all the time, but this was oddly different because he was putting genuine effort (although it didn’t seem like it took much) into the way he sang.

benny was treated to the same hollering and applause he gave santi earlier, the obvious flush in his cheeks illuminated by the amber light of the fire. turns out he started taking lessons here and there recently, one of his buddies at the gym teaching him a few things in exchange for benny’s help with workouts, spotting and whatnot.

both men looked to doc with jokingly expectant grins, wondering how she would react to being “expected” to sing something in front of their fire. she laughed and tried to sway them against it but they were insistent that she sing something, “doesn’t matter what it is, doc” they said. “you’re the only one that hasn’t sang, doc. ya gotta do it now, it’s just us.”

she took their challenge with what started as reluctant grace but then she had an idea. and, even though she knew there would be at least one consequence minimum after she was done, she proudly sang the j. g. wentworth “877-CASH-NOW” jingle between mischievous giggles that made it hard to keep up the façade. the looks on her lovers’ faces were priceless, their shock and amusement very apparent.

santi swatted her thigh playfully and scoffed in mock offense, his eyes telling benny over doc’s shoulder that something had to be done with their silly medic. benny took this hint, scooping doc into his arms and running her into the house, everyone’s laughter bouncing around their little sanctuary. once the fire was put out and guitar dusted off from when benny not-so-gently dropped it, santi followed them inside to continue their carefree evening.

First, the fact that you thought of my story in your free time enough to send me this is just amazing to me. I'm honored.

Second, oh hell yes my boys can sing. I didn't like the movie Country Strong but I loved the music. Especially Garrett! That's why I used the song Give In to Me for the cave scene because it's Garretts voice.

Third, oh lord this is so perfect. Doc would 100% sing the JG Wentworth song and take every consequence the boys dish out. I am a true simp for both these men and this was so incredibly perfect. @itspdameronthings wouldn't you agree

Thank you for sending this, it made my entire night!

[goodbysunball]

She'll be right back

Hardly new, but four releases from 2021 well-suited for the cooler seasons - including the best record I've heard this year. This is what you want; go get 'em.

Cerebral Rot, Excretion of Mortality (20 Buck Spin)

Hard to out-camp death metal obsessed with trying to come up with the grossest bodily failures and decomposition, but I'll happily put up with song titles like "Retching Innards" when the riffs are this fuckin' good. Besides, we've all been there. My innards, retching. Excretion of Mortality pretty much picks up where Odious Descent Into Decay left off, except the band is a full-on force now. The opening title track is a textbook lesson on grimy death metal, suffocatingly dense, full of bone-crushing riffs and winding radioactive solos, finding fresh rot in each new movement. That same ridiculous formula is sharpened and reused to stunning effect again and again over the album's first six tracks; I'd call "Bowels of Decrepitude" out for it's particularly bruising attack and that sick bass solo part (there's another one on "Drowned in Malodor"), but ya can't go wrong with any of 'em. My only qualm with the record is that it maybe should've ended after six songs, and not with the 11-minute closer "Crowning the Disgustulent (Breed of Repugnance)," which just feels like an exhausting, self-referencing recap after the rest of the record. Six outta seven is a ridiculous batting average, and I'll take too much of a good thing even if I have to whine about it. Not sure that going Cro-Magnon in these times is the answer but it sure as hell is a fun distraction. Good times for death metal in the States: new records from Mortiferum and Apparition out now or soon.

N0V3L, NON-FICTION (Flemish Eye)

I gotta admit that I felt a little bit burned by Crack Cloud's last album, what with its tendency toward these corny ornate Arcade Fire-esque gestures (still, "Tunnel Vision" though), so I was a little hesitant to check out the debut from sister band N0V3L, L33T-speak band name and all. Happy to report that NON-FICTION is much more successful than PAIN OLYMPICS while treading the same grounds. Lyrically N0V3L touches on the opioid epidemic ("Pushers") and the diet activism fads spawned in every corner of social media in the past year ("Interest Free," "Status") while continuing to rail against our corporate overlords (the seemingly neverending "Falling In Line," long enough to bluntly drive the point home) and modern politics ("En Masse"). The band strips the definition of "post-punk" down to its core across the record, guitars and synth reduced to window dressing for the amazing rhythm section, vocals speak-sung in a low register and only given any urgency in spare doses. "Stranger," with its horn section, sounds like prime A Minute to Pray-era Flesh Eaters, and the frantic drumming on "Pushers" drives the bleak lyrics "We're all junkies just weeks from a habit" into your skull. For all the nearly danceable and dark successes across most of NON-FICTION, it's the instrumental outro of "Status" leading into mild closer "Notice of Foreclosure" that stands as my favorite part of the record. The repeated guitar line and the mumbled, defeated vocal delivery on "Notice of Foreclosure" serve as a final sigh of a people reluctantly accepting that there is nowhere else to go. So by all means, dance to the likes of "Group Disease" while you can, because the end of this record is a real bummer. Ignore this band's inexcusable choice of a name, because NON-FICTION is the real deal, a mirror held up to show all the imperfections. While they can offer only to name the problems while standing in solidarity, it feels important and it feels like enough most days.

Nusidm, Hatred of Pain (self-released)

Record of the fuckin' year right here. Not sure what planet Glen Schenau is on but more artists could take a cue from Hatred of Pain's reckless, insular experimentation. Glen's solo output thus far has been singular, to say the least, and his first LP pushes him much further out to sea. Opener "I Took Off Your Ring" is an endurance test, Schenau throwing backward carnival organ and ear-piercing flute into the mix at points where the listener might have settled in. "The mix," by the way, is this amazing black metal guitar tremolo picking, sans effects, and plodding, woozy drumming with Glen's clenched jaw intonations serving as the vocals for it all. Nothing really approaches the extremes of "I Took Off Your Ring" in length or sonics on the album again, but that same aggressively insular approach continues. "Lit a Little Fire" is a highlight, Glen sounding like he's in a submarine that's slowly going under but holding onto hope that "she'll be right back," enunciating the latter as fast as he can while his head's above water. The most aggressive track, "Frowntown," has the most animated vocals that almost refer back to his earlier solo work, barking "This is a venue I was banned from!" over a gnarled bed of descending guitar and rolling drums. It's not all sandpaper and scrap metal on Hatred of Pain, though: "Vapid" rides a jazzy bassline for its duration, "A Thankless Crime" is a hard-plucked acoustic loner, and "Hammer Smashed Phone" (yes) with its muffled robotic vocals and piercing melodica sounds like a warped collaboration with the Native Cats. The record reaches its logical conclusion on "So Dark," a deep and moving trip that turns black metal inside out, with lyrics that are basically the title and Glen crooning "I'm not blam-ing YOU-OOH" from the bottom of the well. When this record first arrived, it came with a handwritten note from Glen explaining how he thought maybe the record was a little too personal but he made the choice to put it all out there, basically blowing up his life to make something from all of the pieces in some sort of cleansing act, and that framing makes a lot of sense. I think it's a brilliant piece of work, bleak and sharp and funny and desperate in equal measure, and the physical package reflects the care and probable over-analysis of the whole project. I haven't heard anything this inwardly focused and completely unaware of musical and societal norms since Courtesy and Good Will Toward Men. Amazing stuff. If you trust me, trust Hatred of Pain more.

V/A, and felt like... (Knekelhuis)

The compilation album, at its core, seems designed for diminishing returns in most cases, but recent offerings by labels like Kashual Plastik seem hellbent on changing that narrative. The recent and felt like... compilation by Dutch label Knekelhuis is another excellent addition to newfound compilation success stories, steeped in fragile new age experiments that sound like sunlight filtering into a damp house. Of the artists on and felt like..., only Gothenburg's Treasury of Puppies were familiar to me, and that lack of familiarity probably only aids my enjoyment of the record. Ike Zwanikken's "Bianca," which provides the title of the record, is this lush, patient bed of electronics for Brooklyn Mellar's voice, reminding me of Martina Lussi's Diffusion Is a Force in execution. All of the tracks seem to meditate on one motif, be it the ambience of Avsluta's "Mono No Aware" or the warped, lonely "E.T." by Michel Banabila, gossamer threads captured and repurposed. The whole record is uniform in its approach and delivery, even when dipping a toe into rap on the closing track (which is maybe my favorite track). It's an arresting whole; breathe or move too much and it will disappear.

[aestheticseungmean]

Skater Boy-Kang Yeosang

The consequences of a dare led you to a new group of friends who hung out at a skatepark. You’ve always wanted to learn how to skateboard and now you’ve got a teacher.

7.1K words (I swear they keep getting longer each time)

Warnings: None, maybe like five cursewords

Requested by no one

Edited: once

—————————————————————————

It was a dare.

That was the only thing that was running through your small mind as you ran away from the guy chasing you, scared of what he might do. “Wait-“ He stopped for a breath but you kept running wanting to keep as far away from him as possible, “Come back you little brat.” The beating of your heart was fast, fast to match your breathing that was pumping what you thought was not enough oxygen in your body. What was the dare? You were dared to kiss a random student from your college, anyone you wanted, and in return, you’d get 150 bucks. 150 dollars that you could spend on anything, even that new guitar you saw in the music shop beside the small diner you practically lived at. The same guitar that reminded you of your grandfather who played the guitar every day on his front porch.

“I dare you-“ Somi paused for a dramatic effect, “to kiss anyone on this campus!” Murmurs interrupted in your friend group as they tried to figure out who you would kiss. Lisa stepped forward to add in her own words. “We will each chip in 25 dollars which adds up to 150.” “Kiss someone for money. Yeah sure.” The hint of alcohol buzz from the party last night made you feel light and daring. Whipping their phones out to record you, their mouths dropped as you tapped on the shoulder of a girl. “Excuse me.” Her cotton candy hair waves bounced as she turned her head towards you. “Oh hi, ______! Do you need something?” Heads turned your way, curious as to why you looked so nervous. “I’m sorry,” you whispered before grabbing her cheeks softly and kissing her. Cheers and whistles somehow seemed to echo outside if that was possible.

A large hand grabbed your shoulder and turned you towards him. Shit. Shit. Shit. You repeated under your breath. It was the girl’s boyfriend, the captain of the fencing team, and the Chinese club. “Hi, Jackson?” It wasn’t anger in his eyes, it was worry. “You better run. Her dad is here and he saw it.” Right on cue, the girl’s dad, a very influential man, ran after you. You took off running in the first direction you could escape. “GET BACK HERE!” You hoped that doing track in middle school to get out of gym class would be of help so you called on the will to run faster. But alas, to no avail, you weren’t running any faster than you were now. The first thing you were going to do if you don’t die is make the girls double the money. “I WILL NOT HAVE YOU TAINT MY DAUGHTER YOU-“ You focused on something else knowing he wasn’t going to say nice things. “Wait-“

Carefully, you scrambled up the small wall and hopped over it, landing in some thorns but those would heal, you couldn’t necessarily rise from the dead. The man’s voice grew distant as he ran further, apparently not seeing you enter the fenced area. “Hey, are you hurt?” A male on the shorter side from all the males you knew approached you. “A little but I’ll survive,” you grumbled out as you picked a thorn out of your arm. “May I help you?” He looked harmless so you agreed allowing him to pick out the broken thorns in your hair. “Wow, Hyung. We leave you for one minute only to find you playing Tarzan with a girl.” It was another boy, this time a slight bit taller with a slender and handsome face. “Shut up, San.” “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your little playmate?” You couldn’t tell who was talking this time due to the searing pain in your shoulder where you landed first in the bush from hell distracting you. “No. I don’t even know who she is.” Suddenly, all eyes were on you. “I’m _____, nice to meet you and I am covered in thorns because of escaping a consequence of my dare.”

The group of boys were a bit taken aback by your abrupt introduction but introduced themselves. San, Hongjoong, Mingi, Seonghwa, Yunho, Jongho, and Wooyoung. You observed your surroundings when you had the chance. The vast area in front of you was all concrete save for the little plant areas by the walls. In the middle of the blocked in space, there were dips in the concrete. Ramps and stairs were scattered across the length of one side. To the other side, there were rails of all sizes and lengths. The concrete was immaculate with little cracks for optimum smoothness for the people in the park. Then it hit you, it was a skate park. You watched in wonder as people on scooters, skates, rollerblades, and skateboards did tricks and flips that you could only imagine doing. One boy caught your attention with his unique style of tricks, reaching heights on flat ground higher than you could jump regularly.

Hongjoong took you out of your trance when he accidentally pulled hair instead of a thorn. A yelp escaped your lips as your hand flew up to rub at the stinging pain hoping to soothe it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he apologised. “Joong is stronger than he looks,” Wooyoung teased, ruffling Hongjoong’s hair gaining a glare in return. When you were both sure that you got every thorn from hell off of you, you stood up and stretched your aching muscles. “I think I should get heading back to college-“ your words were cut short when you saw the father outside of the gate checking out the area, looking for you. “Or maybe not.” His brows furrowed as the man looked around. The minute his icy grey eyes landed on you, he marched through the gate and towards your way seething with anger. “YOU-“ Although you didn’t know the boys well, you silently looked to them for help hoping at least one of them would be able to protect you from the wrath of a conservative father.

Jongho stood in front of you acting as a shield should the guy try anything. One by one, the boys surrounded you, encasing you in a circle of safety with Hongjoong in the front where the guy was. “Move, my business is with that little brat who had the nerve to corrupt my daughter.” Some glances were made towards you, a few surprised, a few confused, and a few quietly cheering you on. “I’m sorry sir, we simply cannot do that.” Hongjoong’s voice was calm and clear yet strong and assertive like the ocean. “I SAID MOVE! I’m a very VERY powerful man and don’t think I can’t get this stupid park REMOVED.” You flinched and grabbed on the back of Jongho’s grey hoodie. Loud noises have always scared you, that’s how you grew up knowing you did something wrong. It was the only time people ever yelled at you, the only time they had a reason too but it still made you cower when someone raised their voice. You didn’t realize you were almost choking out Jongho’s hoodie until Wooyoung grabbed your hand and held it much to Jongho’s thanks.

“Shh, he can’t hurt you. We got you, _______,” Wooyoung whispered softly, effectively calming you down a bit. “It’s not your fault he’s yelling at you.” Confused as to if he already knew you, you looked up at him and you could tell in his eyes that he’s been in a situation similar before. His soft chocolate brown eyes held guilt and pain and sympathy. “You can’t have this park removed, sir. This is owned by a friend of ours who loves skateboarding, there is no way she’d sell.” “Yeah! Especially not to you,” Jongho taunted. The man threw his meaty hands in the air in defeat but his words were the opposite. “Give me the brat and I’ll leave you guys alone.” You winced at the emphasis on brat like it was a derogatory term and honestly, it was starting to feel like one. “No.” The guy, frustrated, lunged forward to grab you. His sausage fingers got so close to your face, you could smell the fake cigar residue residing on his unwashed hands. His fingernails were dirty and unkempt, bound to give you some kind of disease if he so much as scratches you.

But he couldn’t get close enough to scratch you. Jongho, whom you assumed was the strongest since he was alone in the fight, had punched him square on the jaw. The guy’s dirty hand left its position in front of your face to go and protect his own. “I don’t know who you are but you will be going to jail for assaulting me,” he seethed but Jongho paid no attention. “Next time you think about touching someone, make sure you don’t.” By now, a few of the resident skaters had started to form around the lot of you, watching and recording, ready to jump in if need be. A girl who looked a bit older than you strolled forward with some of the police off the street who saw the last bit of what happened. “Sir, this young man will not be going to jail, you will.” Cheers erupted as the man was cuffed, screaming the entire way out. “I'M RICH, YOU CAN'T DO THIS!”

“Sir, I do not care that you are rich. I care that you get a lesson of respect in our jailhouse with Big Dan.” A sinister smile crept upon the face of the police at the mention of Big Dan. “Don’t worry, Big Dan will keep you safe...in his yard,” another policeman threw in. Unfortunately, though you were safe, you had to stay until the police came back to get your side of the story and allow you to go home. “Let me drive you home. To make sure you are safe.” The female cop stood there patiently awaiting your answer. They had assigned her to interview you for mental reasons. To make sure you weren’t going to be scared if a big, burly policeman were to interview you which in hindsight is a good idea but stupid in your mind. “Casandra, we’ll take her home.” The group of boys stood behind you ushering you to join them. “Well, I suppose that would be better for you. Go ahead, go with the boys.”

You ran over, happy you didn’t have to go home in a cop car and be the college news of the week. You still were going to be the talk of the day but it will be because of the dare and coming home with seven attractive men. “Are you okay?” You turn towards the voice to see whom they called Seonghwa. “Yeah, I’ll be okay once I get home to my apartment and take a nice long shower.” “Do you live alone?” You nodded, yawning right after. “Do you think you’ll be okay?” “He’s not a mafia boss, I don’t think he will send any henchmen after me. Besides, I’m sure the girls will be hounding me about what happened.” The apartment complex loomed in front of you, even the doors made you feel small right now. The boys followed you up to your apartment, something that would be creepy if they hadn’t been so kind and helped you. “Shit!” You cried out realizing you don’t have the keys and you sure as hell didn’t leave a spare in the hallway.

“What?” Hongjoong inquired, worried that something was wrong. “I hope the girls are here because I don’t have my keys.” You knocked loudly on the door in the famous pattern that let the girls know it was you when you visited them. “Is that a magic way to open up the door?” San joked hoping to lighten the mood. You laughed a little which made him beam in accomplishment. “No, it’s so the girls know it’s me.” The door slammed open and you got smothered in hugs. “Oh my god, I thought you died. You look like you got ran over and-“ the moment they saw the boys, all attention was on them and not you. “Who are the cuties?” “Friends, now move into the apartment before Mrs.Kwon comes out here and yells at us.” You shivered at the thought of the old lady waddling out with her cane giving you the evil eye before screeching at you.

“Would you guys like to come in? I can order pizza as a thank you.” “We wouldn’t want to impose,” Hongjoong politely declined. “But I want to impose,” Mingi said before making his way over to you. The shortest chuckled and gave in. “Alright but I’m helping pay because these guys are expensive.” A smile graced your face as you let them in, the girls secretly thanking you for blessing their eyes. You shut the door behind you and turned towards the girls. “Do you guys know where my stuff is?” “I put it on your bed,” Lisa replied, not taking her eyes off of Wooyoung once. You rolled your eyes and made your way to the room to find your phone and wallet. On your bed laid your backpack and purse with their contents spilled on your bed like a mountain of odds and in stuff. You rummaged through it countless times trying to find your phone but ultimately you were unsuccessful. “Girls, where is my phone?” “Here I’ll call it!” Jongho offered, trying to get away from the girls who were flirting with them.

He rushed to where you just came from pulling you with him. His grip wasn’t tight but it was enough to know that he was desperate to get away. He shut the door and slid down the back of it, sighing. “If I had to hear one more pickup line followed by a wink I would’ve screamed.” “They are very stubborn when they are flirting, sorry.” You tried to offer sympathy but you didn’t know how to offer it. You’ve never really known when you were being flirted with. “What is your number?” Jongho had his phone out ready to call your phone. Once you gave him the number, he pressed the green call button and listened for the ringing. You could hear a faint male hello come from his phone. “Put it on speaker.” He complied and soon the male’s voice echoed through the room. “Hello?” “Jackson?” How could he have your phone? Did one of the girls give it to him? You didn’t have to think for long as he told you why. “You dropped your phone when you took off. I tried to give it to the girls but they were busy trying to figure out what to do.”

A few more words were exchanged later and you were on your way to meet Jackson on the campus lot to get your phone back. Jongho opted to go with you for “protection” as he had put it. It was chilly out but that was expected since fall was around the corner. Jackson was already waiting on the bench by the light post. “Hey, sorry about what I did to your girlfriend.” “Wait- girlfriend? You’re explaining when we leave.” You raised your hand to his mouth to shush him. Jackson shrugged. “It’s not that personal for me. I know you didn’t do it to hurt me.” “It was a dare,” you confessed. He nodded, shrinking into his coat feeling a bit of the breeze. “Let’s not do it again, please. She might start to go after you,” Jackson joked making you laugh. “I promise I won’t. Give her my condolences for my actions and her father.” “Oh, she’s thankful for that. Her dad has been annoying her for the past 23 years of her life.” Jongho tugged the sleeve of your sweatshirt to let you know it was getting late. “Well, I got to go. Bye, Jackson!” “Bye.”

The apartment was chaotic when you reached home. All of your games were out and being played in different areas of the apartment, most likely because of the girls. Drinks were strewn everywhere also courtesy of the girls who knew they were free to pretty much anything in the area. At least they kept the boys entertained so they didn’t feel awkward. A knock sounded on the door behind you making you turn around and open it. “Pizza!” “Thank you, here is your tip.” The delivery boy thanked you and left you with the 10 pizzas teetering in your hand. Thankfully, Jongho who was right beside you, took half of them and carefully stepped over the boys, girls, and games. You tried to follow suit but you weren’t necessarily the most graceful person. Somi grabbed four of the pizzas and left you with just one and you thanked her, feeling less burden carrying just one pizza. Everyone cleaned up their games and put them back before you allowed them to grab a pizza and sit on the couch to watch a new movie.

The time went by quickly and so did the pizza. Even though you had just met the boys, it felt like they have been your friends forever. They gave you that sense of comfort and you almost felt like you could tell them your deepest darkest secrets without being judged or laughed at and it made you feel good. Maybe this newfound friendship would be a long one. Seonghwa was the first to stand up, distracting you from thinking about them for much longer. He collected the trash and attempted to clean up a little bit, not wanting to leave the house that he was a guest in messy as it would eat him up alive. Little by little, the boys all stood up, said goodbye to you, and asked for your number to be able to meet up with you again under different circumstances. You complied and walked them out. Exhausted from the day's events, you laid down in your bed not bothering to wake up the girls. Almost immediately as your head hit the pillow, sleep consumed you and dreams filled your head. Thankfully, tomorrow was a weekend so you had nothing to do.

——————————

A few of the girls had left due to papers to write for their unbearable professors. Somi, Lisa, and Maria stayed over since they were in the same class as you and also had no homework. You grabbed a quick shower washing the bad vibes of yesterday off before starting today. Once you were satisfied, you threw on a random pair of jeans and a loose shirt. “Hey, Wooyoung asked if he and the boys could come over today so I said yes,” Somi nonchalantly stated as you made your way towards the diminishing stack of pancakes Maria had made. Grabbing one, you started to shove it in your mouth. “You gotta stop shoving things in your mouth, you look like a hamster right now.” You attempted to tell her to shut up but it came out muffled. “Someone’s at the door, go get it hamster,” Lisa teased, watching you grab another pancake and opening the door. “You have something in your mouth,” San pointed out while poking your cheeks, making you swallow the now chewed pancake.

“Ooh, pancakes!” Yunho eyed the last one in your hand and you sighed before handing it to him. “What!? Did the pancake loving _______ just give up the last pancake to Yunho?” Somi asked in disbelief that you actually gave up any food let alone a pancake. “Yes I did, I’m capable of being nice thank you very much.” You allowed the boys to enter into the apartment and sit wherever they want. “We want to know if you three want to go to the skatepark with us!” “I haven’t been in years, I want to go!” Maria exclaimed which took you by shock because she’s never mentioned she knew how to do any skateboarding or such. Nevertheless, you and the girls agreed but now you had to wait for them to get ready. You plopped down on the couch next to Mingi and sighed. “Everything alright?” He asked. “Yeah, just sore. Those thorns felt like talons digging into my skin.” Jongho perked up ready to say something he hoped to make you laugh instead of cringe. “If it makes you feel any better, I think that guy yesterday is having a worse day.” You giggled remembering the bloody nose and busted cheek on the man while he was being carted away to Big Dan.

A sharp ring filled the air with its cries signaling someone was getting a call. You assumed it was Seonghwa judging from the way he reached for it first putting it on speaker. A deep voice cut through the air startling you. “Hyung, are you coming today or what?” “Yeah, we’re bringing a few friends though so we are waiting on them.” An ‘oh’ came from the other side and you couldn’t tell if it was a good oh or bad oh. “Is it that person from yesterday that decided to go over the wall into the thorns instead of walk through the gates?” The voice inquired, just slightly curious because you were the first person that had the balls to climb the wall and fall into thorns. “Mmhm. Them and a few of their friends.” “Okay, I’ll see you soon.” With that, he hung up not caring if Seonghwa had said goodbye or not. It came across as rude at first but when you saw that none of the boys paid attention to it, you assumed that was just part of his personality. “We’re ready!” You turned to see the girls all dressed in different styles which makes you wonder again, how did you all become friends when you were so different?

The park wasn’t as crowded as usual which was a bit of relief. Somewhere along the trip, the group was forced to stop so Maria could buy a skateboard since she left hers at home hours away. Lisa decided to buy roller skates to see if she could skate around in them again like she did when she was a toddler. You bought nothing knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay up that well so it was a waste of money. Maria was the first to start refreshing her memory and soon enough, she was doing tricks on the half-pipe and in the pool-like area. Feeling envious, you watched as she aced everything almost as if she never stopped. Lisa on the other hand, struggled a bit. She fell many times before she remembered the little tricks and tips her father had taught her. “They’re so good.” Your voice was laced with jealousy but your face was stoic. “Careful there, someone might think you are jealous,” San teased. “Because I am. I’ve always wanted to learn how to ride a skateboard but I never had a teacher.”

Hongjoong had stated that his friend would be there soon. It wasn’t long before Maria rolled up with a big grin on her face. “That was so fun! You guys should try.” “______ will!” Someone volunteered you and you wanted to slap them but before you could protest, Jongho had pulled you up towards the skateboard. “Just stand on it and I’ll push you.” He helped you up onto the skateboard. Just standing there, you felt queasy and wobbly. “I don’t think I can do this,” you cried out as Jongho pushed you forward on the skateboard. “Of course you can. Your balance can’t be that ba-“ His words were cut short as the skateboard flew out from underneath you. You fell forward, your eyes shut bracing yourself for the impact onto the cold, hard concrete. It never came. Hands had grabbed your arm to save you from falling as your face came into contact with a firm chest. The hands pulled you up so you were in a standing position. “Yeosangie to the rescue!” Wooyoung cheered out as you caught a glimpse of the boy in front of you.

Your jaw dropped and you let out an inaudible gasp. It was the boy you watched the day you fell in the park. “Careful,” his words were brash and empty. Yeosang turned towards the boys and headed over to sit on the concrete garden ledge with the others completely ignoring you. “Sorry,” you mumbled, not caring if he heard or not. “Be nice, Sang,” Hongjoong warned watching the interaction between you two knowing that his friend wasn't the nicest to new people. He didn’t mean it to be rude, Yeosang just didn’t know how to give the best first impressions and Hongjoong didn’t want him to scare you away. Luckily, you brushed it off not being so good with first impressions yourself. “Hey, you’re the dude with the awesome frontside heelflip!” Maria exclaimed, gushing over Yeosang’s skills. “Thanks.” This time his voice wasn’t as formed, as if he was embarrassed or flustered that someone had complimented him. “Is Sangie blushing?” “No.” He stood up and walked back towards the rails ignoring everyone for the rest of the day.

—————————————-

It’s become a ritual for you to go with the boys to the skate park. You swore Yeosang hated you or had a vendetta against you at least but nothing was clear. Occasionally, the girls would go with you but more often than not, they were busy with school or work. Today was no different save for the fact that the boys were busy as well. For some reason, you found the grinding of wheels against concrete and the here and there cheers when someone did a trick soothing. So, to clear your mind you headed to the one place you could probably find blindfolded. The sun was beating down on everything around you, sharing its warmth which was a nice change of pace from the chilly days. Instead of sitting on the concrete garden wall that has become a staple to you, you sat on a little grass patch in the corner. You brought a book in case you wanted to read but all the action made you curious. Eventually, you did get around to reading and somehow you were lulled to sleep. It was sunset when you woke up. Your book which you had fallen asleep with open was now neatly closed with a bookmark in it sitting next to your bag.

You sat up to see if everything was still in there when a coat fell off of you. “Don’t worry, everything is still there,” a familiar voice responded. Quickly, you turned your head towards where the voice came from, and low and behold, it was Yeosang. He was walking towards you with his board in one hand and a helmet in the other. You stifled a laugh at his helmet hair flying everywhere but all in all it suited him. “Is this your jacket?” Yeosang nodded and you rushed to dust it off and give it back to him. “Keep it for now, it’s getting cold out. I was waiting for you to wake up to make sure you got home safe.” It made your heart leap with joy that he waited for you but you also felt guilty. Mingi had said that Yeosang did not like to be out late because he likes to sleep and you kept him from his sleep. “I’ll treat you to some chicken in return for me stealing your sleep time.” Yeosang chuckled lightly before holding his now free hand out to help you up. “Sounds like a deal but uh…. who told you you were stealing my sleep time?” “Mingi.”

Thankfully, the chicken place was still open by the time you got there. They allowed you and Yeosang to sit at the outside tables and eat while they cleaned the inside preparing to lock the doors. “Mingi is a liar,” Yeosang stated in between bites. You were taken aback a bit but questioned why he said such a thing. “He does it to be funny and his words are mainly true but if there is food involved, you can interrupt my sleep time anytime.” You giggled at his statement feeling honoured knowing that the best apology for Yeosang is food. “So why did you come to the skate park today?” “I find skateboarding fascinating and fun looking so I go to watch people mainly. I like to live vicariously through them.” Suddenly, you found your last piece of chicken depressing and returned it to its place on the plate. “Why live through people instead of learning it?” “I’ve never been able to have someone teach me anything. Like, I don’t even know what the foot positioning is or how to stop, I just know that you push off and somehow end up standing sideways on the board.”

“I’ll teach you.” You perked up and looked him in the eye. “You’re serious?” When he nodded you jumped up in joy. “This is going to be the best day of my life.” Yeosang laughed watching you dance into the empty streets and back towards him. “YEOSANG IS THE GREATEST PERSON EVER!” He was glad that you guys were in the shopping part of town otherwise, he would’ve killed you for embarrassing him. The whole way back to the skatepark you skipped happily beside Yeosang who eyed you from the corner of his eyes. At first, you were worried about the darkness of the park but Yeosang reassured you that there were lights for people who’d rather skate at night. “We won’t be doing the fancy stuff. Just trying to get you to go like two feet without falling off for today.” “You mean, this will happen more than once?” He gave you a ‘duh’ look and opened the gate for you. “And they say chivalry is dead.” “It is, I just don’t trust you to open this gate. You might attract some random person threatening to arrest you again.”

You scoffed but walked in anyways leaving him behind. “I’ve got the skateboard.” Sighing, you turned around and walked back towards him. “That’s what I thought.” “You’re mean.” He waved the skateboard in your face as if saying ‘I’m the teacher so be nice’. “Okay so starting off, positioning. Put your foot here, just beneath the front bolts. Once you get more comfortable, it might change.” You did as he said putting your foot beneath the top bolts. “Wait.” Before you could ask, Yeosang put the helmet on your head and snapped it. “Safety first, don’t want to destroy the last two brain cells of yours.” You grumbled, mocking his words. “Last two brain cells. Asshole.” “What was that.?” Mustering up the most innocent eyes you could, you turned towards him and replied. “Nothing, sir. I’m ready for further instruction.” The ‘sure’ look on his face let you know that he had heard what you said but nevertheless let it go. “Hold my hand for balance while you push off. To get used to the skateboard, you must first get used to the bumpy feeling of the wheels against the concrete.” You grabbed his hand in a vice-like grip making him wince. With your left foot, you pushed off and move it behind you on the board. “Now turn your feet.”

By the time you had started to turn your feet, you fell off the board. “Good first run. Let’s go again.” It was around midnight when Yeosang tried to coax you into going home. “One more time, please!” You were bound and determined to get this right by the end of the night. “Fine.” Once again, you grabbed his hand and pushed off. Successfully, you managed to turn your feet and ride for a good 5 feet before the skateboard stopped itself. “I DID IT, YEOSANG!” You jumped off and high-fived him jumping up and down at your success. “Meet you here tomorrow at the same time.” “No, I’ll see you tomorrow before then. The boys asked me here to hang out.” Yeosang nodded and began to walk you out. “Where do you live?” “At the apartment complex by the college.” He walked you the entire way home making you feel warm inside. You bid him a goodbye and watched him skate away before heading inside feeling as though you just solved the mysteries of the universe.

—————————-

Yeosang didn’t interact with you much during the day except for a small wave but when night came, he was all business. You two had a deal. He taught you how to ride a skateboard and you bought him chicken. It was a fair deal to both of you and it worked out for the following month. At this point, you were able to skate so Yeosang decided to teach you a few basic tricks. It was an everyday ritual. From sundown to midnight you practiced and honed your skills with Yeosang who was surprisingly really fun to hang out with and is very encouraging. The boys were starting to notice you and their friend hanging out more and talking even to the point he’d come up to you with your favourite pop he had just bought. Two of them (WOOYOUNG AND SAN) decided to tease you and him about your growing friendship calling it a crush which led to you blushing and Yeosang smacking them upside the head.

—————————-

Your phone buzzed signaling you got a text.

You laughed at the little banter you just had and decided that you could finish your show before heading out. Being at the park in the middle of the night without Yeosang felt weird and it wasn’t like you could practice skateboarding as you had always used his. You sat on the ledge humming to yourself, waiting on Yeosang and shivering slightly. “Why did I forget to bring a jacket?” As if the world heard you, the breeze stopped for a few minutes allowing you to warm up. “You didn’t bring a jacket. Pitiful.” “Yeosang!” Your body jumped up before you could realize it and was already moving towards the boy. “I got you something. A present I guess.” “Eh? You got me a present? Are you sick?” You reached out for his forehead making him step backwards. “I’m not sick. Now take this present and open it before I return it.” He handed you a wrapped box with a cute little bow on top of it making you smile. “I uh, customised it,” his voice quavered as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously awaiting your reaction. The wrapping tore easily giving you a quick entrance to a long blank packing box.

Your hands fumbled with the tape a bit before Yeosang had to stepped in and helped you. Inside was a skateboard that was brand new with multicoloured wheels. Gingerly, you pulled it out and flipped it over, running your fingers along the cherry blossom design on the bottom of the deck. In the bottom corner stood his painted signature. “Yeosang, you did this for me?” Tears welled up in your eyes as you set down the skateboard and grabbed the helmet and pads which sported a similar look. “Oh, Yeosang.” You tackled him in a tight hug thankful that he had worn a black shirt so your tears couldn’t be seen. His arms wrapped around you in response hugging you back. The two of you stood like that until Yeosang pulled away and put the helmet on you, snapping it like he had the very first night. “Give it a try.” You grabbed the skateboard from him and set it down carefully, almost trying to preserve the prettiness of it.

The skateboard itself was smooth to ride on. The tricks you had mastered were carefully done and perfectly executed making Yeosang cheer. “I want a picture of us together with our skateboards,” you huffed, a little chilly. “Okay.” The way he said it with such ease made you realize how far you have come in the friendship. A month ago, he wouldn’t even have looked at you for more than 3 seconds let alone be in the same 5-foot area as you and now here he is, willing to take a picture with you. Your phone sat atop the bench a few feet away with the 10-second self-timer on. Yeosang pulled you closer to him and held his skateboard so the design showed. You decided to do the same, sporting a big smile as you heard the shutter go off. “I can’t wait to skate around tomorrow on my brand new skateboard! This means so much to me. Thank you.” “Stop before you cry again. People will start thinking you are getting hurt,” he teased making you laugh and the tears that tried to creep out, dry up.

“Let’s see if you can land the frontside 180.” Your face fell at the name of the truck that has been getting your hopes down for days now. “Hey, don’t give me the long face now. I believe in you,” Yeosang cheered you on watching as you attempted to push off the ground. As soon as you landed it perfectly, you yelled in joy quickly kicking up your skateboard and running towards Yeosang. “You did it.” “I’m so happy I could kiss you right now!” He stopped for a minute blushing at the thought of your lips meeting his. “Wait- Are you actually blushing right now? The Kang Yeosang is blushing because I said I could kiss you right now?” “Shut up!” His voice was a few octaves higher now that you called him out. “Yeosangie, what am I going to do with you?” “Stop embarrassing me. I know that you probably don’t like me like that so just let it go.” Now it was your turn to stop. Just those words made you feel hurt that he wouldn’t think you’d like him but au contraire.

You’ve been harvesting a crush on him since the day you fell off the skateboard and busted your knee. He had brought you to the nearest pharmacy and tended to your wound telling you it would be alright while you cried. Now, every little thing he did with you made you flustered and it’s even worse when San and Wooyoung tease you about your crush. You tilted Yeosang’s face up to look at you and you could see the fear of rejection in his eyes. “Yeosang. Why would you say such a thing?” “Because it’s true.” A soft sigh left your lips as you furrowed your eyebrows. “I think I know me better than you do and I’m pretty sure I’m telling myself to kiss you.” He started to open his mouth to question you but you cut him off with a soft kiss to which he reciprocated. His soft hands made their way up to the back of his neck and pulled you closer not wanting the kiss to end, not wanting to wake up from this dream. Your lips to him, felt like clouds with a hint of cotton candy flavouring. Odd to some but it made him feel high on cloud 9. His lips to you were soft and warm with a taste of the vanilla cola he drank earlier. A euphoric feeling that you’d never be able to get enough of.

You were the first to pull away for air leaving Yeosang chasing for more. “Will you go on a date with me?” Yeosang was surprised that you asked him out first, not expecting you to be so bold even though you were the one who just initiated the kiss. “We’ve been on like 37 dates already if you want to count our skate practices,” he said as-matter-of-factly. “Yeah but we didn’t do couple things though.” “We can do them from now on. I mean if you want to…” you nodded and hugged him, confirming your relationship. “I just realized your hands are ice cold.” “I’ve been cold for the entire night, I forgot my jacket, remember.” Without saying anything else, he took off his jacket and handed it to you. “Wear this from now on, so the boys get the memo.” “You’re the jealous type aren’t you?” He almost got offended that you’d say such a thing but he knew it was true. “I’m not that jealous. I just don’t like guys who are good looking. For example, the boys.” “Whatever, Romeo.”

—————————

The first thing the boys did when you met up with them was question your skateboard and gear. “Let’s see if you can do better than last time.” You glared at Jongho, dropped down your board and skated away from him towards Yeosang who was behind the mini-vert fixing his wheel. “Hey, babe. Looking fine today.” “Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself,” he teased making you gasp and smack him lightly. The boys watched in the distance gobsmacked that you were actually touching Yeosang. “Is your wheel good?” “Just a second. Yeah, just had a rock making the wheel not move but I got it.” To make sure, Yeosang rolled the skateboard back and forth to check. “I think the boys are confused,” he said, glancing up at the boys. “Want to make them even more confused?” “How do we do that?” You shrugged hoping he had an idea instead. “Do tricks? Kiss? Hold hands skating back? All of the above?” Why did he give the fourth option you wondered. “Which do you want to do?” “All of the above?”

Needless to say, Jongho’s jaw dropped when you did an Ollie, Hongjoong almost fainted when he saw you guys holding hands, and Wooyoung and San screamed when Yeosang caught you off guard by kissing you. “Who? What? When? Where? How?” San fired question after question not giving you or your boyfriend time to answer. “Me and Yeosang. Dating. Yesterday. Here. We both got crushes on each other.” “But you guys never talked though.” A plethora of yeahs came from the others. “Good point, Yunho but, long story short, I fell asleep here one day, Yeosang waited, I took him out for chicken, I told him I wanted to learn how to skateboard, and he taught me. He also got me this skateboard yesterday which led to some words which led to a kiss which led to dating. Kind of backwards but it works.” Seonghwa sported a disgusted face when you mentioned the kiss, grossed out trying to imagine the guy he’s been friends with for many years and has never dated in that time, kissing his new friend. But ultimately, the boys were happy that you two were together and happy. Now came the hard part, telling the girls who’d never let you hear the end of it.

[kkruml]

STAY  CH 15

A/N: My word. I’ve written about a dozen iterations of this chapter and deleted them all. Nothing felt right, no next step seemed logical or natural in moving these characters to where I want them to be. With some serious hand holding, love, and, encouragement by @abreathofsnowandwaffles, @missclairebelle and @ecampbellsoup​ I hope I’ve managed to stay true to these characters and this story.

A sincere thank you to anyone out there still reading this story. 9 months is an insane amount of time to wait between chapters so I am really grateful for anyone who still finds this story worthy of their time.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

AO3

Mood Music

Previously

“Ye’ve spent sae many hours scouring my bookcases looking for Laird knows what- this is a better- and more entertaining- use of yer time.”

“More entertaining, you say? For whom, exactly?” Feeling the smile in her voice, he let out a heavy sigh and nuzzled his nose into the curls at the nape of her neck. Her voice was shy as she asked, “Would you show me a few more?”

This just might work.

Slowly, and carefully, he showed her cord after cord. Pausing occasionally as her crude British tongue broke his concentration, he watched her fingers move slowly from string to string. Kissing her shoulder, and feeling confident he had shown her enough cords to pique her interest, he reluctantly disentangled himself from her.

Slowly shuffling to the hall, he turned at the doorway for a final look. He stopped to take her in.

A look of determination set on her face. Her left hand was rotated and gripped the guitar’s neck with purpose. The loose white shirt, his shirt, hung off her shoulder- exposing the faintest of black ink on her shoulder.

Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he swiped the screen and held the phone up. He watched her form come into focus on his screen and hit the shutter button, watching a freeze frame of this moment flicker and disappear.

CLAIRE

Visualize the movement. Breath on the down-stroke. Focus.

You can do this Beauchamp.

Fingers trembled in place as they spread over the strings, stretched and suspended- waiting.

C. G. Am. 

Her fingers struggled to steady as she found the last chord. 

F.

“Ha!” she exclaimed triumphantly as the strings hummed pleasantly under her fingertips. 

“Ye’ll be chargin’ folks to hear ye play before ye know it, Sassenach.” Deep yet playful, she heard his cautiously optimistic tone seep through his breezy banter.

“Don’t distract me,” the words came out but there was no real weight behind them. Just beneath the surface, she could feel- almost touch his eagerness to be near her. He hadn’t broached the subject of sex or intimacy since the accident, save a few small reflexive nuzzles and small kisses into her hair. 

And of course- those three words. 

They hung suspended between them. An intimacy she never dreamed of and yet, there it was. Since that proclamation, she’d felt shy. Unsure of herself and whatever recollections she lost- and with them the moments between them she couldn’t get back.

She pried her eyes open long enough to see a tautness to his jaw, his stubble lining the curve of his cheek, the line beautiful and potent and all at once innocent. A foreign yet familiar sensation pulsed just below her navel. 

All at once, her mind drew vivid images of them tangled in a sea of white. Like the shutter of a camera, flashes of movement filled her vision- her hands locked in his above her head, the motion of his hips against hers, the line of his lip that curled with each pulsation. Feeling like a voyeur into the memories she already had and the dream for the moments she wished to be true, she blinked and looked away.

She’d noticed him observing her for a few days now.  At first, he was watching rugby but the volume was a low hum instead of a raucous roar from the living room. Then it was his finding every excuse to meander to and from the kitchen- offering to refill a barely touched water glass or to inquire about a dram of whisky. 

Finally he set about cleaning the bedroom or rather, shuffling piles of his laundry from the bed to the chair, studiously inspecting the contents of each garment with great effort.  

Her eyes would linger on the nape of his neck, auburn curls kissing the skin as the ripples of muscle flexed under the cotton of his shirt. Like the night they met. A flicker of a memory- or was it a memory? The thought lingered just long enough before fading into the deep like a wave receding from the shore.

Right on cue, Jamie sauntered into the room- whisky in hand. 

Eyeing her glass, he paused before uncorking the bottle and splashing a few drops into the tumbler. Setting the whisky down onto the nightstand, he waited. His hand dropped to his side, index finger drumming against his thigh. Every line in his body was tense and unsure, searching for something. His voice was hoarse but warm, “Did ye… need anything?”

Neach-gleidhidh. 

Guardian.

Cocking her head to the side, her eyes shifted to his face. Smiling, she said, “You call that a proper pour?” 

                                          _________

JAMIE

They were awoken by the melodic whistle of a small Stonechat just outside their window, and the soft sigh next to him that accompanied it filled the room. 

Instinctively, he stretched his limbs to the corners of the bed. Feeling her form next to him, he paused. Still hesitant and unsure, he resisted reaching out to her. He felt her warmth, thrumming and inviting. He thought he felt her sharp intake of breath.

“Oh-Jamie!” Soft, delicate fingers reached for him and settled on his forearm with a gentle ease. Her voice, clear and awake despite the early hour, hummed with a verve that pulsed between them. “I saw there was a pick your own strawberry patch just a few towns away. What do you say to a bit of fresh air?”

Her fingertips burned into his skin. 

Sorcha. 

The sensation was intoxicating. His flesh buzzed with an almost dizzying energy.

She’d resisted leaving the flat for more than her medical follow ups since the accident. A cloud had hung over their flat, a quiet melancholy that melded with moments of comfort. Long stretches of rain cast a shade over the apartment, but this morning was a most welcome hint of spring breaking through. 

“Oh,” he started, trying to wrestle with the excitement in his voice. “I suppose I could.”

“I would kill for some caffeine,” her voice was suddenly small, quiet. “Could we stop for a cuppa on the way?”

Small steps forward, lad.

“Aye Sassenach.”

                                         _________

CLAIRE

Where the bloody hell are his keys?

Fingers impatiently swept across folds of material as they searched through his satchel. A solid metallic rectangle shuffled loose and made a thud against the worn wood floor. The screen lit up and her eyes caught the distinctive pattern of a brick wall, a swirl of curls, and white chucks. 

The night they met. 

The image, his view of her, was staring back at her. Seemingly meaningless but yet, he wanted to take it. To keep it. To keep that snapshot in time, forever. 

Her fingers twitched as she carefully picked up the device, trembling slightly as she swiped the screen as a new image came into view. A profile of her shoulder, a mess of curls interrupting the white ivory skin. Peeking through a tangle of brown, stark lines of black wings seemed to dance across the screen. 

The heron. 

A whisper echoed in the room, a faint but distinctly familiar voice, her father. When in doubt, love, remember the heron. 

Carefully, she set the phone back on the table, face up. Watching the screen dim and fade to black, she let out the breath she had been holding. 

“Are ye ready, Sassenach?” His voice echoed from the hallway and snapped her from her thoughts.

Ready. Was she ready? 

She wasn’t sure. But she needed to get out of their flat. 

Their flat. 

The thought made her smile, and slowly she felt the tension between her shoulders recede. Shoving his phone and keys back into his bag, she grabbed the leather straps and clutched it close to her chest. With a new resolve, she strode towards the door and into the sunshine.

                                          _________

JAMIE

With a new cup of Oolong in one hand and black coffee in the other he hurriedly made his way back to the car, muttering a few course words for the barista- and the fresh and still steaming stain on his pullover. 

This is no’ the time to be mussed up or late… again.

“Thank you,” she said softly, reaching for her tea. Her fingers grazed his and she paused. Like a bolt of lightning coursing through his veins, he flinched but did not draw his hand away. “Though… you were gone so long I feared you had stood me up… again.”

“Och ye see…” he started before he caught the bite of her lip as she smiled. Their second date. “A witch are ye then- able to read my thoughts?”

“A witch- as in green with ruby slippers?” she said with a smirk and fake indignation. Her eyes gazed down at her hand- smooth ivory skin taught the lines on her palm. Her voice softened, “Well no but… perhaps a white one.”

A white witch.

Ban-druidh.

                                         _________

CLAIRE

“Did ye ken the surname ‘Fraser’ isna Scottish?” His voice was wistful, thick with centuries of history behind it.

She paused, watching the sun light his hair in a soft afternoon glow. Meandering through another row of bushes, each step was more tranquil than the last. “Oh wot- no ‘History of Scotland’ lesson today then?”

Letting a most decidedly Scottish grunt speak for him, he crouched down to a nearby plant. Inspecting each strawberry with a nimble index finger and thumb, he turned back to look at her. “There’s nothing more Scottish than yer clan’s history, ye ken.”

She could see the story bubbling from within him. She longed for the lilt of his voice as he expounded centuries of Scottish history. Yearning to hear more yet reticent to seem too eager, she exhaled and gave an exaggerated eye roll for good measure. “Oh aye… And?”

A deep hum rolled in his chest and his lip pulled at the corner, giving way to a heart stopping smile. It took her breath away. 

This man. 

The cock of his head, the set of his shoulders. The look in his eye. She’d seen that look before. A heady stare, behind it held whispers in the dark and promises made between them in early hours of the morning. A truth between them. A promise. 

This man loves me.

He settled back onto his heels, his knees pressed into the soil and his hands resting on his thighs. She recognized the posture- it was the same he adopted when regaling her of tales of his time in France with his brother-in-law Ian, and when settling in with a dram of whisky while telling stories of his time at Uni.

Pulled to him like a magnet, she knelt down beside him. Leaning forward with anticipation, an honest smile spread across her lips.

“Ye see, Sassenach… I am a Highlander- born and bred. But our name ‘Fraser’ is French. A Monsieur Fresiliere came across from France wi’ King WIlliam. ‘Tis a long story, but he took a piece of the Scottish mountains. Part of that land included what became Lallybroch.” His shoulders straightened with pride, his voice dripping with humor. “Even if our tower doesna have a face.”

North-facing tower. 

She had studied that one. Had repeated it over and over to herself since he took her to his childhood home. 

“Turarach.” She said softly to herself. 

                                       _________

JAMIE

Had he not etched that word into his heart as a wee lad, he might have missed it. But there it was- clear as day.

He taught her that word. 

He took her home when Jenny had her bairn. They had spent the day exploring Lallybroch, and he had taken her to the broch- or what remained of it. He had painstakingly repeated the word to her, syllable by syllable. And he watched her English tongue stumble over the vowels in a most endearing way. 

Clearing his throat, he attempted to collect himself. “Och, aye lass. I see ye’ve kept up yer studies.”

Her eyes widened and a soft shade of blush spread across her cheeks. “Well…there’s only so much Rugby I can watch without taking to your bookshelf for solace.” 

Or my guitar.

His heart constricted as he watched her face struggle to maintain composure. “Are ye makin’ fun of me?”

Fighting a smile, she replied, “Oh I would never, Monsieur Fréselière.”

He shifted towards her. “Monsieur is it? I seem to remember ye called me Laird.”

                                      _________

CLAIRE

A memory. 

Safely tucked under dark linens and surrounded by the stone walls of his childhood room, she’d had a glimpse into the past. Splashes of tartan mixed with the heat of campfire and starlight filled her vision. In that moment she’d called him ‘Laird,’ and felt the prophecy behind it. 

The weight of his gaze burned her skin.The safe haven of that room, the intimacy of that moment filled the space between them. Blinking her way into the present and determined to meet his stare, she countered, “Did I?”

“Oh aye.” The mood shifted as he breathed out the words, an almost palpable energy pulsated between them. A deep purr erupted from his chest, his accent thick. “I felt more whole in that moment than I had in a long time.” 

Whole.

The word danced around the corners of her mind. Her eyes shifted from him to the golden hues splashed across the sky. Was she whole? Twisting her wrist for inspection, she felt no sharp pain, just a dull ache from use. 

No longer broken. 

Now came the recovery. As a doctor she had seen the scans, she knew the rehabilitation trajectory. Yet here, with him, the statistics and analytical journal findings faded from mental view. Here, in this moment, she was simply Claire. With Jamie. Her Jamie. An overwhelming sense of calm washed over her.

“I think I know exactly what you mean,” drawing her gaze back to him, she exhaled contentedly. Instinctively, her hand reached out for his, taking it gently. “Thank you, Jamie.”

“Och, ‘tis nothing lass.” Dirt-stained fingertips pressed into her skin. His warmth encompassed her.

“Jamie…” she started, her eyes lowering to see their fingers intertwined. Blinking hard and tilting her face to meet his, she finished, “I don’t just mean for today.”

An echo of a smile tugged at his lips and he exhaled.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” His voice hummed, soft and tender. “There’s the two of us now.”

His words were so simple. But there was something in the blue of his eyes that spoke to the depth of his meaning. Her breath caught as she felt the same weight of prophecy to his words.

[mantra4ia]

Desires: Lucifer season 5 on Netflix

Created: August 21, 2020. Last Modified: August 22, 2020.

Preface: Alright my Lucis, here’s the sitch: it’s been a minute. Life got a bit chaotic I wasn’t able to start season five quite on time when it premiered on August 21st because I haven’t finished the great 2020 Lucifer rewatch. I’m nearly done however and should be able to jump into it either later today or tomorrow, which is why beforehand I want to — as I’ve traditionally done for a few seasons — create a desires list and keep a tally throughout the season to see how many are met. I am going to try to pace myself, not binge, and watch a single episode a day so don’t spoil me. Likewise I will tag my spoilers. Here we go... #21DaysofLucifer

Season 3 and 4 Roundout - Desires Fulfilled / Questions Answered

✔We’ve seen other demons “like Maze” and a bit of what havoc they can reek. Well sort of. To be quite frank, although it was cool to see them possess the recently deceased, it wasn’t as impending doom as I was expecting. They didn’t seem nearly as disciplined or intimidating as Mazikeen, even Dromos, more bored and desperate.

✔ We’ve seen a little more or the heavenly host in Remiel. Remi was cool, if a bit intense. Her character, and her affinity to Amenadiel was a nice foil to see how far his character has come in evolution. But again like Uriel was for Lucifer, she kind of became a driving force character device to push Amenadiel’s growth. So I wonder if we’ll get to see more of her or not.

✔ (s3) The backstory of Lucifer’s arrival in LA, finding LUX, and making a deal with Amenadiel.

✔ (s3) Cain finally went to hell, YES! Not that I didn’t like Marcus Pierce/Tom Welling, there were some great interactions there, but I just think he was a wishy-washy antagonist based on how he was written and I can’t wait to trade up for Michael.

✔ Maze finally had some happiness and attachment to this silly mortal coil and it slipped away! Why Eve why? I love Maze’s bonding with humans, Linda, Trixie, Chloe. But I love that after a Millennia of serving, and then watching Amenadiel and Linda be happy in a family unit, that she might actually make her own and my hopes were dashed. 

Things we got that we didn’t even know we wanted. SO GOOD:

Season 4 ep 8: Amenadiel bonding with Caleb and confronting community violence, police brutality, and systemic racism. It was a rough episode to be sure, but absolutely needed,

Chloe talking Lucifer down and out of a self-hatred spiral and his transformation into full-fledged devil and back again.

Lucifer playing Creep on repeat while missing the detective (even after insisting in a therapy session that “he’s not a teenager playing Adele on repeat) and Mr. Said Out B**** trying to rob Lucifer and gun point and ultimately get rich. What a fun twist.

The Dan and Maze Los X’s fight. They are wicked good at laying down the  hurt on the criminal element and I was wondering when they’d pair up again after dispatching Warden Perry.

The devil in a bar fight! I mean, it’s only fair since the ladies had their brawl. I love how this fight sequence was filmed in bursts of slo-mo from various angles, involved everything from fists, to tasers, knives, bottles, and the infamous pool cue, and they picked the perfect song for pacing (Jake Bugg, Lightning Bolt, could listen to it all day on repeat.)

Time for all good demons to go home / Enough, you will bow down to your king. Go home! (aka appropriate use of Devilish intimidation face)

Amenadiel vs Remi 

A Rocky montage with Lucifer and Amenadiel / Amenadiel’s face the first time Lucifer drives the Corvette

Lucifer at the roller derby

Chloe the YA fangirl

Maze teaching Trixie about knives, with each handle decorated in a different toy.

Amenadiel and Chloe catching up: your father is so proud of you. Like and angel BOSS!

SEASON HIGHLIGHTS:

★ (s3) Amenadiel taking Charlotte home

★ Dan being comforted in his grief by Amenadiel

★ Amenadiel’s wrath and the brotherly duo tag team to lay the hurt on the drug dealer that got Charlie killed. It’s been a while since we’ve seen warrior angel ready to dispatch anyone in his way. And it was glorious!

★ (s3) Lucifer’s almost driving lesson with Trixie “Morningstar”

★ (s3) Maze torturing Lucifer by making him think he’s the Angel of San Bernadino

★ (s3) Amenadiel and Lina helping to dispose of Lucifer’s wings

★  Lucifer kicking Julian, Tiernan’s son, through a glass pane window

★ The goodbye kiss between Lucifer and Chloe

 DIDN’T LIKE:

☒ (s3) Cain playing guitar and singing. What is he, a crime lord, a top cop, or an act that the improv club wouldn’t take? 

☒ Eve. I liked Eve, but we mostly got to see one side of her around Lucifer, and a kind of floundering an confused side when she was with Maze. The side that I would have liked to see more of was the maternal side that came out when she briefly talked about Abel or was interrogated by Trixie. That made her more layered.

☒ Father Kinley. That dude is just meh.

☒ Dan’s broken heart and rebounding with Ella. Don’t get me wrong, its a good arc, but I don’t see it lasting

☒ (s3) Abel and Reese. Those were two side stories I could have done without, although they had great moments of humor. I quite enjoyed Reese’s character, and although I didn’t like Abel Lucifer’s stick-figure comic illustration of Cain fighting with him over a rock was quite enjoyable.

WHAT I TRULY DESIRE: SINFUL SEASON 5, my BURNING QUESTIONS, and SPECULATIONS

Obviously, don’t spoil anything for me, but if any of my desires end up coming true in any of the first eight episodes maybe drop me a hint in the comments...

A big time jump. We need to see the lasting impact of Lucifer’s absence. I know that time in hell works differently per that episode where Lucifer saved Chloe and almost got stuck in a loop, but we still need enough time to elapse that the impact is felt on the mortal side. Or, we need to see the passage of time through a series of events without Lucifer, like a montage of character development. At least a year or so, if for no other reason then Trixie is growing up and I actually want to see her take driving lessons with Lucifer.

Last season Maze gave baby Charlie a gift, something she’d wished she’d had growing up, and previously had alluded to the language of demons, her many siblings, and teased her mother, the mother of all demons. Will we finally get to meet Maze’s mom Lilith (or however they address her)? And, in spite of Mazikeen’s found family, she still has restlessness and abandonment issues. Will her mom finally finally bring her peace, or will clashing with her resolidify Maze’s purpose on earth?

A Decker/Mazikeen team-up or girls night out 2.0 would always be appreciated. At this point its probably 4.0 if you count the bar fight and the bachelorette party.

Will we see tougher, scarier demons, or are they just warmup to the really scary depths of hell?

Speaking of hell, more hell. Tons of hell. I want to know the minutia of all the mechanics. If Lucifer’s gotta be down there in self-imposed exile, he may as well show us around. Pour us a drink.

Will Lucifer see Cain in Hell? Not that I’m dying to see more of “sad Cain” but it would be interesting to see a more dark or desperate or cunning side to him at least now that he’s actually neck deep in torment. Or, alternatively, I’m hedging my bets that he could be a good candidate to light the fire under Lucifer’s *** to get of hell back to the earthly realm. Even in hell, I’m betting Cain would have a soft spot for Chloe, and if news reached Lucifer that Michael were trying to abscond with his life and with Chloe, it would give Cain and Lucifer one last bit of “A-Hole brothers” common ground to bond over. Like “Brothers, am I right? Go kick, get Chloe back, I’ll still have enough guilt to torture me with in a few thousand years when you get back,”   

Will Lucifer fall into peril in hell of once again potentially getting distracted and stuck in a hell loop? Will his servants be satisfied with his return? Will Amenadiel bust him out.

Mr. Said Out Bitch needs a role reprise. He’s been in every season opener 2-4, we’ve gotten to know his undergarments very well.  Its high time we get to know his name and story. He’s put in the work!  

Amenadiel should be running LUX in Lucifer's absence. We got a tease of that in previous seasons (remember when he asked what would Lucifer do?) its time for that to come to fruition. Plus, any excuse to put DB Woodside in a suit, just because he wears them so well. It would also be interesting if, after that tragedy he’s experienced, Amenadiel will start taking after Luci. Maybe not the punishing, not yet, but wanting to seek out evil and corruption. It has been teased since s1 “fall as I did.” Perhaps he’ll start developing a taste for his bother’s line of work whereas he found it repugnant in the early days

Dan and Maze or Dan and Ella pair up. Both Dan and Maze are due for some happiness.

An Azrael reboot, when need more of her. She’s the angel of Death for pity’s sake. I don’t know if the original actress is still available or if they would have to recast, or if the character concept by Netflix would even be the same, but I need Azrael to be capable of sweet and unassuming and on a coin flip downright menacing.

More of Lucifer as a godparent, bless! And maybe a cool montage of “cousin” Trixie and Lucifer co-babysitting Charlie please.

Whilst on the subject of Lucifer and parenting, and without putting Trixie too much into harm’s way, I need to see what “I would do anything to protect that little urchin” looks like. Trixstar ride or die.

Father Frank, come back! I need a cameo or recurrent role pleeeeease.

Trixie in every episode. This is non-negotiable, much like chocolate cake. Beatrice is an all-star. In fact, I’ve decided that when Dad/God finally does show up, Trixie needs to be the one to get to know him / introduce him first. She’s been captain on the celestial cheer squad for four seasons, she’s earned this.

Who's going to see through Michael's facade first? I mean, I know that trailer shows Maze torturing it out of him, but as far as intuition goes, I've got a 50/50 split between Trixie and Linda, with an honorable mention to Dan.

If Michael is Lucifer's twin, does he have the same angelic compulsion skill set? Or something different? And will it work on Chloe or is she universally immune?

A “be like Mike” pop-culture reference. ******Spoilers: ******* all the trailers have revealed Michael already, so they owe us this for letting the steam out.

As far as pop-culture, how many movie and TV references will we get from Lucifer and ensemble this year? I expect A-game, from sci-fi to 80s action, on par with the previous likes of Parent Trap, Star Wars, Home Alone, Kim Possible, and Rocky.

Will Amenadiel’s necklace make a reappearance, even after he put it around Caleb’s neck in the morgue? Heavenly artifacts have a way of causing trouble in this show.

Will what finally learn what, if any, significance there is to Lucifer’s ring? Again, as all my fictional writings will attest, I really kind of want it to be a stolen little trinket from him Dad.

Plot twist: will we get to see Hell and the silver city all in one season, or is that too devilishly good to ask? It would be intriguing if Lucifer fell from Heaven for rebelling and now some threat like, for example, the mother of demons would pose a threat to the gates such that Lucifer was called upon to defend them. Not expecting anything Endgame level with a host of Angels popping up like sorcerers...but it is food for the imagination.

Plot twist: will Michael, duplicitous twin that he is, be revealed as the reason that Lucifer does not lie and can’t stand liars? Will be get a Michael back story? Is he perhaps the true rebellious son? see: my original fan conjecture here.

Additional links to previous recaps, roundouts and wishlists: 

Season 1: Best Moments // Season 2: Predictions, Desires, Roundout, Best Moments // Season 3: Speculations, Quick-shot summary 

[queen-of-bel]

i think someone already asked for paz and kaz?? if not then them, in case someone asked for them, kandori and maki for the hc meme!

MY TWO FAVE DUOS EVER. i’ll do them all bc i could fill out a hundred prompts about them

Persona 1, Persona 2EP, general Metal Gear spoilers incoming

Putting under a read more because it is loooong (sorry in advance)

Kandori

realistic: Oh, Kandori was absolutely the one who alerted Nanjo to his existence in p2ep. I’ve written multiple posts on Kandori’s motivations, but bottom line, Kandori wanted to work against Nyarlathotep’s plans as much as he believed his fate would allow him to. Kandori had infinite strength and should have been the impenetrable stronghold that kept Tatsuzou safe. He is the only boss in the entire game to not have a low health stance, and he resists everything. He’s able to catch Tatsuya’s sword with one hand, as Tatsuya says:

“Kandori tilts his face out of the way, and when my blade grazes his ear, he grabs it with his left hand. All I have to do is pull back, and it’ll cost him his fingers. He gives me a broad, natural smile. However, even when I yank it with all my strength, my sword doesn’t move a centimeter. It’s like it’s caught in a vise.”

Kandori’s revival should not have been found out by anyone (especially since everyone watched him die the first time). But somehow, the word leaked back to Nanjo. It’s not impossible to think that it was Togashi who leaked the information, but there’s a line of Kandori’s that really makes me think Kandori himself was the source.

Once Maya et. al + Tatsuya arrive on the Nichinmaru, Kandori says that “all the players are in place”, implying that he’s the one who brought them all together like this. This was a very meticulously crafted plan, and it only could’ve worked if Nanjo heard of Kandori’s revival, which leads me to believe that it was Kandori, not Togashi, who spread the rumors of his own revival.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: Due to the high levels of contempt he feels for Tatsuzou, I’d love to think that Kandori just fucks with Tatsuzou constantly. He’ll move all the furniture in Tatsuzou’s office just a few inches to the left, or he’ll swap the position of some of the books on his shelf. It’s infuriating to Tatsuzou bc Kandori’s antics are just enough that he knows something is off, but he can never pinpoint exactly what it is. Kandori, meanwhile, insists that nothing is wrong, and convinces Tatsuzou that it’s just his old age getting to him.

heart-crushing and awful: I bet Kandori kept tabs on the P1 crew during his time under Tatsuzou. While he’s said to have an obsession with Tatsuya, there’s no reason to believe that the care he showed for Maki in P1 went away, and he’s grateful to the P1 cast for saving her. I like to think that Kandori found out that Reiji’s going to have a child, and stashed away a large amount of money (bonus points if he embezzled from Tatsuzou) to send to him, especially since Reiji’s girlfriend’s house collapsed. Kandori doesn’t sign his name on it or anything, so the money arrives to Reiji in an unmarked envelope, with only Reiji’s name written on it.

Reiji first thinks that it might have been Nanjo who sent the money (because that envelope is packed, and Nanjo is the only person he knows rich enough to send that much). Nanjo denies this, and after a while, the two of them come to the conclusion that the only other possible person could have been Kandori. Reiji thankfully accepts the money, and this whole incident reinforces in his mind that “Takashi” was the right name to choose for his son.

unrealistic: In order to cope with the boredom and emptiness he felt as SEBEC’s Mikage-Cho branch president, Kandori set up a secret room in SEBEC filled with video game consoles. During the height of his depression, Kandori would just be so engrossed in his games that he would forget he has actual meetings to go to. Cue Takeda apologizing profusely to clients, saying that Kandori’s running a bit late, and Takeda has to practically drag Kandori by the collar out of the little gamer den that he’s created for himself.

Maki

realistic: After her training under Eriko, she realizes that she misses painting and wants to pick it up again. She eventually incorporates that into her profession, becoming an art therapist.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: Maki really wants to be good at baking, but she’s terrible at it. You know, like this:

She knows that she’s created a monstrosity but at least it’s still edible, right? So she brings these to P1 cast reunions. Nanjo is just appalled, and has to excuse himself because he knows he’s just going to be too blunt (prompting Mark to call him a “dickweed” again). Yuka, having no filter, just straight up says how horrible they look, but then she offers to teach Maki how to bake, since she’s pretty damn good at it herself.

heart-crushing and awful: Maki definitely regrets not accompanying Maya to the Nichinmaru. She doesn’t blame Nanjo/Eriko for not being able to save Kandori, but ever since she heard that Kandori was alive again, she’s wanted nothing more than to talk to him again.

She thinks that if she were there at the undersea ruins, maybe she could have convinced him to come along with her. This regret is just going to add to the massive amounts of guilt she feels over the Mikage-Cho incident.

unrealistic: It took ideal Maki a while to perfect her “cringe” negotiation. When she first tried it, she would burst out laughing too much, absolutely ruining it, and angering a lot of demons along the way.

Paz

realistic: Kaz has constantly asked her to come feed treats to Nuke with him. She’s always agreed, because that’s the role she’s supposed to play, but she really hates it at first. Eventually, as she comes to like Kaz more, it becomes the highlight of her day, and she begins to really look forward to it. She finds herself prolonging Nuke’s feeding sessions, just so she can spend more time with Nuke and Kaz.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: So you know how Paz couldn’t stand Kaz at first? She wasn’t exactly subtle about it, so everyone at MSF knew that Paz thought Kaz was an enormous idiot. Cecile was so happy to find someone else who felt that way about Kaz (and she’s always wanted a reason to get closer to Paz), so she goes to Paz to air her grievances about what a pest Monsieur Miller is being. Paz, meanwhile, does not give a single shit. She still thinks Cecile is just a ditz, and now she’s irritated that she has to deal with both Kaz and Cecile’s annoying antics.

heart-crushing and awful: I’ve thought about this for a long time. I really have. But there is nothing, absolutely nothing that can be any more awful than what we got in canon. I have a lot of characters that fall under the “deserved better” category, but Paz takes the top of that list.

Paz is a unique character in Metal Gear in that she was not supposed to have anything to do with war. Other characters’ lives in the series were intertwined with war, whether by choice or by fate. Even characters like Chico or Sunny were born into it, given their parents and upbringing. 

It’s never clear how Zero was able to come in contact with Paz, but I think it was intentional to never specify it. It’s not important to know how Zero found Paz, because fundamentally, Paz is not an important person. She’s nobody special. She was literally just some random orphan living in the US, and Zero went out of his way to drag her into his plans.

To me, Paz’s character parallels the child soldiers in Zanzibar Land. They’re both representative of how ruthless Zero and Big Boss were in their quests to fulfill their interpretations of the Boss’ will. Zero and Big Boss were both willing to employ any tactic possible to reach this end goal, and they didn’t care about the pain and destruction they left in their path.

But I digress...

That being said, I think Paz felt sick when she saw MSF soldiers playing with the mini remote-controlled ZEKE that Huey had built. For her, it was just a reminder of the duty that she had to carry out. She wasn’t allowed to be happy at MSF, and she eventually would have to fight to the death with Snake.

unrealistic: Writing Love Deterrence with Kaz and Zadornov made her want to learn how to play the guitar. In my totally self-indulgent “Zero and Skull Face both get brain aneurysms and drop dead 4 days before Peace Day” AU, Paz approaches Kaz and asks him to give her guitar lessons.

Kaz

realistic: The morning after the monthly birthday party at MSF (you know, where Kaz invited everyone to see the real Kazuhira Miller?), he’s embarrassed as hell. He been so protective of Paz the entire night, and it turned out he was the crudest person at the party. He goes to apologize to Paz, and can barely look her in the eyes as he’s doing so. Paz, meanwhile, can’t stop laughing. Her opinion of Kaz had been softening ever since he visited her when she was sick, but interacting with him during the party had really made her like him. Kaz still feels a bit of shame, but upon seeing Paz genuinely laugh for the first time, he can’t help but feel so publicly embarrassing himself was all worth it.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: MORE 90S FOXHOUND PETTINESS

The first year that both Big Boss and Kaz are at FOXHOUND, Kaz bakes a cake for BB’s birthday. As BB accepts the cake, he wonders if Kaz has forgiven him, but then he looks down at it and sees

And these are the cheapest, shittiest cigarettes that Kaz could make, because you know his petty ass rolled them himself. BB picks up a cigarette and it’s so sloppily rolled that it immediately falls apart and the tobacco spills all over the cake and the floor and BB looks up to Kaz and Kaz is just smiling back like

heart-crushing and awful: Ohoho, I have many thoughts as to Master Miller’s life post-Zanzibar Land and his final moments. Now that Big Boss is finally dead, Kaz’s life loses all meaning. Skull Face, Huey, Big Boss, they’re all dead, and suddenly, the decades of anger he carried with him has nowhere to channel itself to. I think he becomes an empty shell of a man, just sort of running on autopilot.

So when Ocelot breaks into Kaz’s house to kill him, you absolutely know that Ocelot wasn’t discrete about it. There’s no way that Ocelot’s overdramatic cowboy ass didn’t gloat about it, to show that he was able to get the upper hand in the end.

Kaz just doesn’t care.

Kaz’s life is plagued with regrets. While none of it was intentional, his impulsivity and short-sightedness has really screwed over a lot of people and absolutely destroyed so many people’s lives. I think when Ocelot came to kill Kaz (and I’m going to toss in a bit of torture, just because Ocelot’s petty ass remembers Kaz complaining about Ocelot’s getting “too many kicks from his ‘art of interrogation’”), Kaz just resigned and doesn’t even attempt to fight back. He knows that this is a sad and undignified way to die, but he believes that this is karma and he deserves it.

unrealistic: Okay I’ve talked about this a little, but I want to add to it.

Kaz absolutely kept a Burn Book like in Mean Girls.

After MGSV, Big Boss and Ocelot make their way in the book as well. Underneath Ocelot’s picture, Kaz writes “Too gay to function. Also, cowboys are stupid.” BB has got 5 whole pages dedicated to him, but the line that Kaz is most proud of is “Didn't shower for a month... during SUMMER, and to this day still hasn't washed his hair.”

Thank you for asking!

send me a character and i’ll give you some headcanons

[royalrhaposdy]

Of Course I Care [ Brian May ]

Word count: 1.2k+

Request: Heyy, i only wanted to tell you that i love te way you write, it’s so cooooool. I was just wondering, could you do a Brian x Reader roommate au? iluuuu

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

_________________________________________

Your morning was already off to a rough start, you had woken up late, with no time for breakfast and now you couldn’t find your bag that had paperwork that had to be submitted today. You were running around the flat desperately trying to locate your missing bag. In the meantime, your roommate, Brian, was just watching you with a big smirk plastered on his face.

Realization hit you, you must have left your bag lying around. One thing you have learned after living with Brian was he really hated it when you left your belongings just lying around, “Brian, where did you put my bag?”

“Y/N, if you would put stuff away, you’d know where it is.”, you groaned, you knew he was just trying to teach you a lesson normally you would’ve just apologized but you were getting later by the second.

“Please Bri, I’m already late,” you were getting ready to beg when Brian just let out a big sigh and said, “It’s in the closet where it belongs.” You rushed to the closet, pulled your bag out, and rushed out the door.

You and Brian had met in college and had almost instantaneously felt comfortable with him. It didn’t take long for you two to become best friends. He would invite you to come to Smile’s gigs and you would invite him to your art exhibitions; you were each other's biggest fans. Once the both of you graduated you decided to find an apartment together. It’s been about three years since you moved in with Brian and it was still one of the best decisions you’ve ever made; he was the perfect roommate and the perfect best friend.

Eight long hours later you finally returned home from work. You opened the door to find Brian sitting on the couch strumming his guitar, he looked up at you when you entered the room. “How was work?”,he asked.

“It was fine, my boss didn’t even seem to notice that I was late, thank god.” You sat in the chair across from him and put your feet up, it was good to be home.

He nodded and began strumming his guitar again. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, you closed your eyes and listened to the first few chords of Keep Yourself Alive, when all of a sudden he spoke up and asked, “Hey Y/N, are you doing anything tonight?”

“No, I’m not, why?”every time Brian invited you to anything it was always fun.

“Queen was invited to play at the club downtown, do you wanna come?”

“I’d love to! What time?” you were hoping you’d have a few more minutes to relax before you had to start getting ready.

“Umm, I think it starts at 10, but I have to leave at 9.” you glanced over at the clock on the wall, it was somehow already 8:00, you’d definitely have to start getting ready now.

You quickly pushed yourself up off the chair and gave Brian a pat on the shoulder as you made your way towards your room. “Good luck tonight, I know you guys will kill it like always.”

He smiled up at you, “If you get there before the show come backstage, I’ll give security your name.”

“Okay thanks, Bri, I’ll see you there.”

After taking a shower, drying and styling your air, applying makeup and choosing an outfit you were finally ready to go.

You grabbed your car keys and checked the time, it was only 9:15, you were delighted that you still had time to wish the guys good luck before their set.

Fifteen minutes later you pulled up to the club and made your way in, you noticed that the crowds seem to be tripling in size every time you go to see Queen perform. You made your way past security and to the boys’ dressing room. You knocked on the door it was quickly opened up by a very hyper looking Roger. “Hey Rog, how are you?” you quickly found yourself wrapped in a hug.

“I’m great love,” he said as he gestured for you to come in. You gave the same greeting to all of the boys before settling into the seat beside Brian. “The crowd out there is huge, congrats guys!”

Freddie was beaming at your comment, “It’s all thanks to the release of our album, darling.” You sat around chatting to the band until a man came into the dressing room to give the guys a 5-minute warning.

“Well guys, I guess that’s my cue to go find a place to watch from. Go kill it.”

As you left the room and made your way to the stage you noticed that the room was even more packed than before. Luckily you were able to find a good spot to watch the boys from.

As always you enjoyed every minute of their set, it never ceases to amaze you how easily they connected with the crowd. Once the set was over you made your way backstage to congratulate the boys on a great set. As you made your way into the dressing room you couldn’t help but blurt out, “You guys absolutely killed it, they loved you!” The smiles on the boys' faces told you that they already knew how well they did.

“Thanks, Y/N, hey the boys and I were offered free drinks you wanna stay?” as much as Brian’s offer was tempting, you were absolutely exhausted and had a ton of paperwork to finish.

“Thanks for the offer guys but I think I’m going to go home, don’t get too drunk now.” The boys couldn’t help but laugh at your comment. You said your goodbyes and headed home.

You were used to Brian staying out late partying with the boys since Queen really got popular every Friday night Brian would be out until 3 in the morning partying with the boys.

You had even developed a routine, Brian was a creature of habit he would always be home by 3am like clockwork. He would never come home super drunk but you always like to be there to help him just in case.  

When you arrived home, you got ready for bed and set your alarm on your phone for 2:30am and then went to bed.

2:30 came way quicker then you had hoped it would, you got up and sat on the couch to wait for Brian. However, 3 am came and went but Brian hadn’t come home yet, you began to panic this wasn’t like him at all.

You were all of a sudden woken up to the sound of a kettle boiling, you must have somehow fallen asleep on the couch last night.

You drowsily walked into your kitchen to find a tried looking Brian making tea, you so relieved to see he was okay but your temper began to boil at the sight of him.  “Why the hell didn’t you come home! I was so worried about you!” your sudden outburst caused Brian to jump.

“Jeez Y/N, it's fine I got too drunk so I decided to sleep in my car, calm down.”

“Calm down?! I was worried sick. God your such a twat sometimes.”

Brian began to laugh and walked closer to you, “Aweeee, does someone care about me?” you couldn’t help but let out a little laugh the goofy smile of his always got you.

“Of course I care about you. You’re my best friend.” he pulled you into a tight hug before whispering in your ear, “Are you still mad at me?”

You shook your head and smiled up at him, “No but you better not do that ever again.”

[madscientistjournal]

Fiction: Tempo Rubato

An essay by an unnamed musician, as provided by Jonathan Danz Art by Errow Collens

Tonight, backstage is too hot, too dark, too much like some high-ceilinged mausoleum straight out of one of those old Friday night TV horror shows. The strap of my dinged-up Telecaster bites into my shoulder. Tonight, like most nights in recent memory, this guitar is like my very own stone of Sisyphus. Truth be told, I don’t know if I can roll it up the mountain one more fucking time. I don’t know if I can go out on stage yet again and pretend I’m me.

Vegas–swarm cams, drinkbots, holo-betting, omni-feeds, every last bit of it–can go to hell. The guy on stage now, the Buddy Holly impersonator, even with his bitglam in effect, comes off more like an impersonator of a Buddy Holly impersonator. He’s opening with “Peggy Sue.” Poor bastard. There’s nowhere to go from there but downhill.

Everyone’s an entertainer these days, what with voice plugins, appearance modifiers, movement enhancer neuro-mods, and every other trick. There’s no work at the art anymore, just show up and let the tech do the work.

Me and my new band, we’re the only completely analog performers in Vegas. Re-Invaded And It Feels So Good, that’s our act. Real clever stuff. The crowds eat it up. It’s fresh, in a manner of speaking, especially after seeing a hundred enhanced shows in a hundred casinos. After a while, it all blurs together.

I know, I know, that’s what they said when we were all flooding into the U.S. during the British Invasion. I’m a connoisseur of irony. But when something stands out from the pop-star one-offs and Rat Pack 3.0 crooners, people take notice. People don’t know they’re craving something different until they get it.

These Vegas performers could stand a lesson in “less is more,” but instead they’re all in on everything. All that tech must seem like magic to these fools, but tech ain’t magic. Believe me, I know from magic. Not like this Buddy Holly guy.

Look, I liked Buddy Holly back in the day–we all did–but that sound aged about as well as a bottle of piss. When you hear it, you know exactly when it came out. It never evolved. Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if his plane hadn’t crashed.

Sometimes I wonder if Buddy wasn’t the lucky one.

~

It was the 1960s, and the Beatles exploded out of Liverpool with us right on their heels, and the British Invasion was on. The money began rolling in free and easy like juice through a Marshall stack. In a move that would become the hallmark of making it in rock and roll, I bought a posh estate in the English countryside.

That’s where we were between tours in ’70. One night, December 11–Christ, you’d think I’d forget after so long, but the memory is like tough old scar tissue that’ll never go away–anyway, we were in the studio, turning a three minute song into something epic. I dove into my solo, weaving amplified heat through drums and base and rhythm guitar, stitching it all together at first. Then I began teasing strands out into the dark corners of sound. My fingers slipped and slid high on the fretboard. My guitar wailed and moaned with an urgency I could feel. I raced out ahead of the rhythm, then eased back into the mix by turns. I scooped time from some measures and poured it into others. The world around me wobbled and shimmered.

By the time the cops barged in, I was fully lost in the solo. It was as if someone had accidentally stuck a needle in my artery and my life was spraying out everywhere. It wasn’t blood, though, dig? I swear it was life itself flowing from me, streaming into my mates. Everyone was higher than an old vicar’s waistband. The cops’ shouting tore it all down and the music collapsed. I was wasted, could barely stand.

The cops’ arrival probably saved me, but all they saw was some weed, some pills, and whatever, and that’s all they needed to know. They grabbed their headlines for busting some punk kids who’ve risen far too high, and I grabbed some jail time. Prison was no great shakes, but there was something about the monotony of the routine. It freed up time to think. And I had a lot to think about.

~

Vegas Buddy Holly slides smoothly into “Rollercoaster.” It’s a checklist for him: hit this note, do that hiccup thing, take three steps. Technically, it’s perfect, but there’s no love for the music, no heat. Choosing to impersonate Buddy Holly is purely mercenary. He’s found a niche and it pays. It’s calculated. And I’ve got to tell you, hearing exactly the same thing done exactly the same way night after night gets tiresome.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not the music itself; I feel like I could play forever. It’s everything else. Some might say the world has passed me by, but I’d argue it’s the people who flock to this place on the regular who are being passed by. Was a time when people would spend hours parsing song lyrics or album cover art. Now everything wheels by like startled birds, gone in an instant, replaced by the latest streaming shows or VR episode or vending machine stimdrugs. We’re so fixated on what’s coming next, we can’t enjoy whatever it is we’re consuming right then and there.

The marketers’ll tell you their latest con expands the mind and taps into unexplored landscapes of the imagination. Rubbish. It’s about making money. It’s always about making money. Just ask ol’ Buddy Holly on stage there.

The guys in my band are no different. Sure, they tolerate the analog sets, occasionally even enjoy themselves when they’re not thinking about it. But they’re just gigging with me to pay the bills while they seek online stardom. That’s where the real money is, even if the odds are so long they stretch well beyond the horizon. They just need one video to virus out, and they’ll have it made.

I hear you, telling me to fuck right the hell off. I made my money, so why shouldn’t they make theirs, right? I say, have at it. There’s no magic there. You want magic? Strip it all down, get rid of the enhancements. Focus on the music, the guitar strings beneath your fingers, the vibrations of your vocal cords, the buzz of a packed venue. If you let yourself fall deep enough, you’ll find the space between it all.

You’d think songs almost a hundred years old would lose their luster, but that ain’t so. There’s that quote about not being the same person who crossed the river the first time or some shit. There’s truth there. Songs are like rivers, always changing, waiting to show you something new, if you’re willing to look. That’s why I hang around, every single day and twice on Saturdays.

~

After the bust, I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened at that rehearsal. I needed to know what that was. As a band, we were looking forward, working on new songs, planning new tours, finding new ways to spend our windfall. But as an individual, I’d decided to look backwards as well.

I searched for answers in the deep, slippery roots of music, looking for the faintest whiff of anything even remotely like what happened the night of the bust. Whenever we hit a new city, I scoured libraries and bookstores and pored over rare tomes, letters, and sheet music for something like magic.

Then I found tempo rubato.

Now, I know you’re thinking of that Styx song about the robot. That was Japanese. Tempo rubato is Italian, mate.

The definition of tempo rubato in music texts refers to, and I quote, “the slight speeding up and then slowing down of the tempo of a piece at the discretion of the soloist or the conductor to be more expressive.”

But here’s the thing, Tempo rubato isn’t just an Italian term on some sheet music like sotto voce or fortissimo or any of that lot. Now I had no idea if the concept originated in Italy or not, but the Italians nailed the naming of whatever this phenomenon is.

In Italian, tempo rubato means stolen time.

As a musical cue, that was all fine and well, but I was positive there was more to it than that. Slowing down, speeding up, everything I’d been doing that night, it was all there.

I began playing around on stage, messing around in subtle ways with what almost killed me the night of the bust, learning, refining. I did it carefully until I unpacked tempo rubato and put it to work for me. I pilfered small bits of time so as not to cause harm and, as much as we played, the stolen time accumulated like the juice on a mob loan.

~

We’re a long way from Vegas, now, aren’t we? What does this have fuckall to do with tech enhancements and swarm bots and flash androgynous technicians? Well, hang tight, bruv, I’m getting to that. Besides, Buddy Holly’s got one more song yet.

He launches into “That’ll Be the Day.” When he hits the chorus, like he does every night, I can’t help but think that maybe in some alternate universe I’m dead, and he’s here in Vegas in real life, the original watching some mercenary performer imitate me.

“That’ll be the day that I die,” Buddy sings. Well, the real Buddy Holly boarded a plane that flew him right into his grave at the tender age of 22. And, despite the booze, the drugs, and other depredations of the body, here I am still going strong well beyond my expiration date. Is it fair? That’s not for me to say, but I’m fully aware of the irony.

The ubiquitous “they” insist everything that’s old is new again and I’m inclined to agree. Maybe that’s true, but it’s a cycle, ain’t it, which bloody well means everything that’s new becomes old again as well.

I think about all those musicians who hung around too long. I’d need more fingers than I’ve got to count everyone who couldn’t let it go, guys who wished they headed out at the top of their game, leaving the fans wanting more.

But damn if every time I hit that first chord on stage, I’m not transported back to our first live gig in Coogan’s Pub in Dartford. Now there’s a magic all its own, you know? Throw in the fans and the applause, and small wonder musicians can’t let it go.

What I miss, though, what has me in this funk, is that I’ve got no one to share any of this with. Everyone’s gone. What’s the use of hanging around as long as I have if you can’t share the honest-to-god artistry?

There are days I’m aware the only person I’m really playing for is myself, searching the music for ghosts of the long-gone boys who crossed the Atlantic and got rich with me. There are days I wonder if stealing time during all those tours with them might have hastened their respective ends. Shit, we were all getting older. People just age differently, right?

I search through the music. Maybe some combination of sound will bring them back, but inevitably the ghosts are always just out of reach. I’ve seen musicians wind up searching elsewhere, the needle or the booze or something just as deadly even though we know whatever it is we need isn’t there at all. And sometimes you don’t even know you need anything at all until you’re shown otherwise.

~

Inside some nondescript sound studio in Memphis in the late ’20s, I was waiting to record an interview for some classic rock retrospective podcast. At least I think they were still calling what we did way back when “classic.” The host was explaining to an angsty lad on the sound crew what vibe he needed and who I was.

But damn if every time I hit that first chord on stage, I’m not transported back to our first live gig in Coogan’s Pub in Dartford.

“Seriously?” the angsty lad asked. “I thought that guy died years ago.” No embarrassment. No apology. Just a statement of fact with perhaps the smallest hint of a question or accusation in his tone. That’s when I realized I couldn’t keep on as myself forever. No matter how good I felt, no matter how I looked, someone would do the math and start asking questions I had no intention of answering.

And so I did the only thing that made sense: I disappeared to sort things out. For a few decades, I traveled to places where people had no idea who I was. For a while, it wasn’t so bad, the newness of it, you know. I tried out things I couldn’t do when we were touring, things like gardening and painting and woodworking, whatever struck my fancy.

Even as I did these things, in the need was always there, waiting. I told myself it was just the music I needed, just the feel of the guitar in my hands, the heat of the stage lights, the cheering crowds. I mean, the music was definitely part of it, but I missed what I was able to do with the music even more. I needed tempo rubato.

What better place to resurface than Vegas, the impersonator capital of the world? If I couldn’t be me, at least I could pretend to be me. I mean, I had me down pretty good.

~

Buddy Holly wraps up with a deep cut, one of his b-sides that has surprising layers. Something about this song appeals to Buddy. I can tell, because he loses himself in it. He’s so close to touching the music and doesn’t even know. The crowd applauds just enough to encourage Buddy Holly to do an encore.

Buddy Holly launches into a respectable version of “Not Fade Away.” Huh. Normally he trots out a tired medley of songs that roll into that other song that’s not by Buddy Holly but about Buddy Holly, when his plane crashed, and the music died, and all that. Tonight, Buddy Holly’s veering off script.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

One more song to figure out how I’m going to break it to the band. Since I returned to Vegas–what has it been, 30, 40 years?–I’ve asked myself why I keep going so many times it feels like a vocation unto itself. If there’s an answer to that question, I’ll be damned if I know what it is. Now’s as good a time as any to call it quits.

“Hey, Billy,” I say to my bassist.

He turns to me and raises his eyebrows in question.

Time to tell the crew tonight is the night I stop, but the words die in my throat just as Buddy Holly strums the last chord of his encore.

The applause for Buddy Holly packs more punch this time around, there’s real enthusiasm behind it. Buddy comes off stage. His bitglam distorts and winks off. Bruv looks tired, but he’s smiling.

We nod at each other.

That simple gesture is like a smack upside my head. It’s straight out of those days right before the British Invasion, back when we were just one of a hundred bands were trying to make it. Yeah, we hated each other, but there was some measure of respect for the fact we were all chasing the same thing. There’s a camaraderie that comes from mutual suffering.

Maybe I’ve been too hard on ol’ Buddy.

Then the host is announcing us to the crowd. Cheers and stomping feet shake the building. The crowd is as amped as I’ve ever heard it. That sound … that sweet, goddamned sound washes over us. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck stands at attention, expectant. My heart thrills and prances inside my chest. A smile spreads of its own accord across my face.

Billy smiles the same me. He’s feeling it too. “What were you going to say?”

My guitar feels lighter, and the only thing on my mind is strumming that first chord. “Forget it,” I say.

Billy’s no longer the fresh-faced kid I brought in to hold down the beat a few months ago, but that’s what the business does to a musician, isn’t it? The pull of the stage and the lights are like an old friend’s arm around my shoulder, warm and comforting.

A British Invasion musician learns the secret to rock on for evermore, but after outliving his mates and winding up as an impersonator of himself in Vegas, he wonders if it’s time to hang it up.

Jonathan Danz is a speculative fiction writer living in West Virginia with his wife, daughter, and cat, all of whom are artists in their own right. He attended Viable Paradise 21 and narrates for various science fiction, fantasy, and horror podcasts. He likes books, bikes, and beer.

Errow is a comic artist and illustrator with a predilection towards mashing the surreal with the familiar. They pay their time to developing worlds not quite like our own with their fiancee and pushing the queer agenda. They probably left a candle burning somewhere. More of their work can be found at errowcollins.wix.com/portfolio.

“Tempo Rubato” is © 2019 Jonathan Danz Art accompanying story is © 2019 Errow Collins

Fiction: Tempo Rubato was originally published on Mad Scientist Journal

[innerpostmentality]

Prelude - Aeneas & Sarissa

Four thousand years ago gods and magic shaped and ruled and were plentiful in the world. Man and all magic diminished and the things of science took precedence until magic became a myth tucked away safely in children’s fairy tales and skilled entertainer’s parlor tricks. It’s been the creatures were shaped and marked by it. Then things began to change. Gradually those things of a thousand years of progress unmarked by true magic.   Things are about to change.  

This fic is part of a collaborative AU created by my talented friends @tornbetween2loves, @kennaxval and myself. This part was written 50/50 by myself and @tornbetween2loves.

Disclaimer: all original TRR characters and references belong to Pixelberry, however we are claiming their beautiful children as our own creations. Please see the Series Master List here: Arcana Unbound Series Masterlist Word count: 4800 + Warnings: mild angst, pretty PG-13 for this part. Future parts will be erotic and deal with some serious problems.

Tags: @darley1101 @gardeningourmet @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject  @bobasheebaby  @carabeth @sawyeroakleyscowboyhat @riseandshinelittleblossom @stopforamoment @teamtomsato @furiousherringoperatortoad  @indiacater @sirbeepsalot @alesana45 @strangerofbraidwood @museofbooks @eileendannie @furryperfectionlover @ao719 @blackcatkita  Her intent when she told Leo she might just shoot some pool after he showed off his horse was to get a little time to think and kill time while Xiphos and Calais did… whatever. Now as she stood before the door into the billiard room alone, light seeping below the door, the last thing she wanted was to possibly interrupt, whatever.. so she cupped her ear and listened at the door for a moment. She heard what sounded like someone breaking to start a game of pool but no conversation. She thought to herself that it must be Aeneas. The future king. The king that she would most likely protect one day. She hesitated at the door as she contemplated if this was a good idea. Sure, they had grown up together, and attended a lot of the same parties and events. And they had spent a decent amount of time together but always in the presence of Calais or Xiphos or both. Never alone. She could not think of a single instance when she was alone with the crown prince.

  She suddenly felt nervous. What would she say to him? Would they even be able to hold a conversation? She sighed, suddenly in need of a drink. She raised her hand and knocked lightly on the door.

  He was surprised as he leaned over the table and heard the soft knock. "Enter" he called as he made the shot before he turned to the door.   His eyes widened in surprise. "Sarissa? Hey, are you okay?"

  She smiled at him. “Yes, I’m fine.” She glanced over at the bar. “I was hoping to have a drink. Care to join me?”

  He smiled. "Sure" He set his cue stick back in the rack. "What is your preference Sarissa?

  She smiled at him as she noticed for the first time how good-looking he was. She didn’t know why she hadn’t noticed before. Hell, she hadn’t noticed anyone before. “I’d love a vodka tonic, please.”

  He lifted a brow and grinned... "Vodka tonic eh?" He poured her drink and put some ice in a glass and poured some black label whiskey over it for himself. "So what has you drinking vodka tonic tonight?"

 She sighed deeply and narrowed her eyes at him with a small smile. “I think you already know the answer to that, Aeneas.” She took the drink from him and took a long swig. “But if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it. Let’s talk about something more pleasant.”

  He searched her dark eyes for a moment before he nodded. "Very well. What is your favorite hobby, Sarissa? I have known you forever; but I think this is the first time you have ever come to talk with me. So tell me about what you like?"

  “I like to read.” She suddenly felt very shy as she tried to think of something else. Her face grew hot. “I’ve never talked with you before because I was never sure it was appropriate. Please don’t take it personally.” Her eyes shifted downward to avoid his gaze.

  "Hey," he lifted her chin gently to look in her dark eyes. "I am not offended. And reading takes in a lot of territory. What do you like to read Sarissa?" He grinned and studied her as he contemplated her with his amethyst gaze. "Mystery?"

  She smiled as she gazed into the violet swirls of his eyes. In that moment, she found him mesmerizing. “I definitely find mysteries interesting. I also enjoy true crime stories. And I’m a sucker for the classics. Anything written in the late 1800s to early 1900s.”

  “What about you, Aeneas? Do you like to read?”

  He grinned and his eyes were bright. He nodded. "Oh yes. I love reading... well not so much reports about minutiae." He crooked his finger at her, "I can tell you a secret. But you can’t tell..."

  She leaned in a bit closer with a sly grin on her face. “You can tell me. I’m great at keeping secrets.”

  "I love to read really good cookbooks." He whispered low in her ear his breath warm on her cheek.

  She couldn’t help the laughter that escaped her at his confession. “Cookbooks? Really?” She chuckled and gulped down the rest of her drink. “That wasn’t exactly what I was expecting.”

  "Shhh,,," He looked around like the walls might be listening. Then smiled. "Seriously a really great cookbook is like travelling with the added benefit of some amazing recipes and stories about their origins."   "You have a great laugh, Sarissa."

  A slight blush crossed her cheeks. “Thanks. And I must say, you are more fun than I thought.” A moment later, she realized that he might have found that offensive. Her eyes grew wide as she slapped her hand over her open mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, that was so rude of me. I didn’t mean to imply that you aren’t fun, Aeneas.” She looked away from him, cursing vodka tonic under her breath.

  He shook his head. "It is fine. I might be a little tipsy. You would not believe … Well you might. Just please do not Highn ASS me and we will be fine. And I give you official permission to remember when it is private please just let me be Aeneas."

  She smiled at him as relief washed over her. At his mention of it, she realized she hadn’t referred to him once as ‘your highness’ or ‘your royal highness’ or even ‘sir’. The thought truly never crossed her mind once she entered the room. She studied his eyes, she found the violet pools captivated her to the point where she couldn’t break their gaze. She swallowed hard as she battled her nerves which were normally made of steel.      “So what do you do for fun Aeneas?”

  "Fun? What is this foreign language you speak?" He grinned as he teased. "I make horrible messes in the kitchen trying to make some of the things I have read about. Hand spun sugar and sugar work are especially messy. Even when they go right. I play guitar and sing... mostly in the bathtub. Sing that is not play guitar. Oh... and I play billiards and pool. Billiards mostly to think. Pool mostly to beat my little brother."

  She smiled at him, her eyes danced with amusement. “I didn’t know you could sing. Or play guitar, for that matter.” She smiled as she leaned in close to him again. “Will you cook for me sometime, Aeneas?” She knew somehow that she might wake up tomorrow and be mortified about this conversation. But in this moment, she didn’t care. “I guess I won’t challenge you to a game of pool then. Leo beats me all the time so I’m sure you would totally kick my ass. I would need lessons to prepare.”

  Aeneas nodded and smiled, "I would be happy to cook for you. Or with you." His eyes were intent but he seemed happy and relaxed as he leaned toward her. "There is a secret with pool as well. You really want to know how to get a good break. It is all in the wrist. It is not how hard you hit it but rather how much spin you put on it."   There was a soft knock on the door and Aeneas laughed as he looked up at the door. Then he grinned at her and whispered, “Quick, who do you think that might be?" He was close. Close enough she could smell his fresh woodsy cologne and faintly the whiskey he'd been sipping.

  Her heart pounded in her chest and she wished whoever was at the door would just go away. She flashed Aeneas a smile as she rolled her eyes. “I’m guessing it’s our two favorite people. I wish we could hide and not answer it.” She nuzzled a bit closer to him as she breathed in his scent to commit to memory.

  "Do you?" He looked in her eyes a moment then grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the cue rack. He reached down and pressed the molding and there was a faint click. He opened the panel into darkness and stepped in tugging her hand for her to follow him before it closed. It was almost pitch dark and he was right behind her, warm against her back. He whispered softly in her ear. "We have to be quiet. Calais knows this is here. If they hear us we are stuck."

  She leaned into him, the warmth of his body against hers. His whisper in her ear sent shivers down her spine and she trembled just a bit. She sighed and hoped he didn’t notice. Her voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t think they’ll try too hard to find us anyway.”

  A moment later they heard Calais voice, "Sarissa?" "Well she's not in here now, Xiphos. But there are two glasses still on the table and there's ice and ... whiskey still in this one. Aeneas doesn't usually leave a mess. Leo?... " The room got quiet. Aeneas shook against her back as he tried to keep from laughing out loud at the mystery they had posed for his sister and Xiphos.   After a moment he whispered, "Give me your hand and follow me." His hand was warm and large as he held hers gently and led her through darkened passages. After a few moments he paused not letting go of her hand and feeling around on the wall. He pressed a button and a light at floor level came on illuminating stairs going down. "My dad used to tell stories of him and Uncle Drake playing hide and seek in the tunnels. Apparently, your dad was the only one who could regularly find them." He led her down a couple of flights of stairs and then paused at another panel that from this side looked like another doorway. He listened intently for a moment then opened it with a small lever. It opened into a large well stocked pantry. Aeneas smiled broadly enough to show his one dimple. And bowed to her. "Mi Lady your pantry awaits... Let's get some ice cream. They may find us but hey... we will have ice cream."

  “Mmmmmm ice cream. Now you’re speaking my language.” She followed him to the freezer as he opened the door to display the flavors. She tapped her index finger to the side of her cheek as she contemplated the selection of favors. “I think I’ll stick with plain chocolate.”

  He smiled at her as he got two bowls down and scooped a couple scoops into each bowl. She watched him as he served the ice cream. She smiled at the way he stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on scooping the ice cream. She never realized there was an actual person behind the stoic demeanor he presented to the public. She was curious. She wanted to know everything about him. He finished and put the ice cream away then turned to her with a smile, holding out a spoon. She took a spoonful and held it up to him. “Ice cream cheers?”

  "Wait!... " He dug around in the fridge side for a moment and came up with a gallon sized jar of maraschino cherries and put one on each of their spoons before clicking them together. "To mischief managed?"

  She smiled as she clinked her spoon against his. “Yes. Managed is the word.” She giggled as she shoved the spoon in her mouth, savoring the feel of the coldness as it flowed over her tongue. “Mmmmm.” She gazed into his eyes intently. “This may be the best ice cream I’ve ever tasted.”

  He was grinning, "A true culinary masterpiece. It's the cherry on top." He looked at her as a mischievous sparkle appeared in his violet eyes. He lifted one brow and then touched the back of his spoon to her nose leaving a little chocolate there. "Tag!" He dashed off into the kitchen as he chuckled.

  “Hey!” She giggled as she wiped the chocolate off with the back of her hand and took off after him, spoon still in hand.

* * *

  After they didn’t find Sarissa in the Billiards room Calais led Xiphos up to Leo's room. They could hear the drum solo being played before they even got halfway down the hallway. Calais grimaced. "I'm going to murder him." She went to his door and didn't bother knocking because he wouldn't hear anyway. He had headphones on one ear as he listened to a track and was very, very much into his playing, no Sarissa in sight.   She closed the door and led Xiphos upstairs to her own room and pulled him into the elegantly appointed room. "I give up. Any ideas where she might be?"

  Xiphos furrowed his brow as he shrugged. “I think she’s somewhere with Aeneas. They’re messing with us.” He wrapped his arms about her waist and kissed her softly as he looked around the room. He raised an eyebrow as he glanced in the direction of the bed. “We could just let them have their fun....”

  She smiled up at Xiphos. "If we really, really want to find them we have several options. We can call or text them. Even if Sarissa is angry I know Aeneas has his phone connected to his royal jewels and will answer me. There's one more place we could look... Aeneas’ personal hang spot... Or I can poke the guard and ask him to locate them." She grins. "How much trouble would you like to cause?"

* * *

  In the kitchen, Sarissa took a moment to glance around at her surroundings. The room was dimly lit with lots of shadowy corners to hide in. She slunk into a dark corner and surveyed the room. This was her area of expertise. She could be quiet and stealthy. She disappeared into the corner and waited for him to reveal himself. After a few moments she saw him reappear in the middle of the room with a puzzled look. “Sarissa?” His voice was a loud whisper. She waited until his back was turned then crouched low behind him, until they almost touched.

  Aeneas chuckled.. oblivious to her behind him. "Saaaa rissaaaaa…. I'm going to eat your ice cream...."

* * *

  Xiphos returned her grin. “Normally I would be all about causing trouble. But considering we’re both in the dog house with my sister; and Aeneas and I aren’t exactly on the best terms, maybe we should just keep this on the down low?”

  Calais ran her hands up Xiphos’ chest and kissed him again then pulled out her phone and texted Aeneas. ….. Hey, have you seen Sarissa?   A worried look crossed Xiphos’ face. “I hope she’s ok. She’s used to hanging out with Leo, but she hardly knows Aeneas. I know we’ve all hung out together a few times, but she has always insisted on maintaining a professional distance between her and Aeneas. She feels it’s unprofessional to be close to the future king she aspires to guard. I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

  "Hey... Aeneas is pretty gentle. He's just oblivious to things sometimes. But Love, if she's hurting he'll do his very best to help her. Trust me."

* * *

  Sarissa couldn’t help herself. She chuckled softly right by his ear. “I’m right here Aeneas.” He turned around to face her and she quickly touched her spoon to the tip of his nose. “Tag!” She took off and ducked back into the pantry before he could react.

 He laughed. "I'm glad you are on my side." He opened the door to the pantry. "I have to go reload..." He went back into the kitchen and grabbed a can of whipped cream from the fridge on his way back to his bowl of ice cream.

  Sarissa stood on the other side of the pantry as she ate her ice cream. Aeneas walked into the room, obviously holding something behind his back. She put her spoon back in her bowl and took on a fighting stance. She knew he was up to something. He moved closer to her. She started to giggle. “Aeneas, whatever your planning, don’t.....” Just then his phone pinged.

    Aeneas’ face transformed and he instantly turned serious as he set the cannister of whipped cream on a shelf and pulled out his phone. He looked at the text and smiled again. "It's Calais wanting to know if you are with me? Shall I tell her to join us for some ice cream tag?"

* * *

  Xiphos grumbled. “I wouldn’t exactly call our conversation gentle.” He sighed deeply as he pulled Calais close into his chest. “That’s really not fair. I said a lot to provoke and anger him. I knew how he’d react.” He kissed her softly then pulled back with a questioning look. “When he and I were having our discussion, I asked him for permission to court you. He in turn asked for permission to court Sarissa. I thought he was joking and I laughed at him.” He sighed again. “He insisted later after we calmed down that he was serious.” He looked deep into Calais’ dark eyes and stroked her cheek softly. “What do you think about the two of them together?”   Calais hugged him and considered for a moment seriously. "Your sister can be pretty stubborn. I think it depends a lot on if she decides she wants Aeneas. Not the future king, the man that is beneath the crown. I think she could get to him. But it's going to take a lot of stubborn."

  Xiphos sighed and stroked Calais’ cheek. “Then let them be. She will find us when she is ready.”

  Calais smiled at Xiphos and plugged her earphones in to her phone and offered him one and put the other one in then selected Ed Sheeran’s 'Perfect' and held her arms out to him. "My dad taught me to waltz to this song. It's older than I am but I still love it. Dance with me Love."

  Xiphos smiled down at her and his emerald eyes sparkled as he wrapped one arm around her waist and took her hand in the other. He pulled her close and they moved around the room in perfect unison as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Enchanted with each other so much  more than they would have thought possible in one night.

* * *

  Sarissa’s mouth dropped open and she laughed as she realized what Aeneas was about to do. She eyed the whipped cream playfully. When he mentioned Calais’ name it was as if a dark cloud passed over her.

  The joy left her face and she looked away from him. “No. I do not want her or my brother anywhere near me right now.” Her eyes stung with hot tears as she turned her back to hide her face. She knew that Xiphos was probably concerned. She cleared her throat. “Please just tell her that yes, I am with you and I am fine. Ask her to tell Xiphos I will find my own way home from the palace.”

  Aeneas looked puzzled. Then closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he dropped his phone back in his pocket and pulled her against him into a hug. "Sarissa… help me out here. What happened? I am sorry I hurt your brother. He caught me off guard and I was honest with him. Why are you upset with them? He asked me if he could court her. And I thought if we were being formal I should ask his permission. I am a bit dense at times according to Calais. I know I should have asked you first." He stroked her back as he held her close.

  A confused look crossed Sarissa’s face as well. “Aeneas, I am not upset about what happened between you and my brother. I don’t really know what happened, I can only make educated guesses because everyone just keeps me in the dark.” She cast her eyes downward to hide her tears again. It was unlike her to show weakness like this. “I’m upset because Leo and I walked in on them in the stables and interrupted a passionate kiss.” Her voice was soft and shaky. “Calais is my best friend. How could I not know she had feelings for my own brother?”   She hesitated for a moment, her face buried in his chest. She pulled back to look into his violet eyes. “Wait. You asked his permission? You should’ve asked me first? Maybe I’m the dense one here because I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

  "Welcome to my world, Sarissa. I feel like I have been on an alien planet most of the day. Since my sister walked in my room upset about the social season and told me she didn't need a social season because she already liked someone. She did not tell me who. And I knew she had not told them. So I sort of threatened her. She knows me. She knew I would find out who. I want her to be happy. The next thing I know Xiph is texting me he needs to talk. He has been like an older brother to me my whole life so I was completely caught off guard... " He shook his head. "When you came in and told me I knew why you were drinking Vodka I thought it was because I had asked Xiphos' permission to court you rather than asking you."   He frowned. "I am sorry."   He held her gently. "Xiphos was seriously kissing Calais?"

  She looked up into his violet eyes, caught off guard by what he just said. This was the last thing she expected. She felt like she should pull out of his embrace, but there was something so comforting in his touch. Her brother and best friend were suddenly the furthest thing from her mind as she absorbed what he just told her. “Y-you asked Xiphos’ permission to court me?” She didn’t know how to feel. Flattered? Angry? Hurt? Excited? Lucky? Her head was spinning. This was so unexpected. This was the future king she was supposed to protect. Yet here she was, wrapped in his arms, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she wasn’t meant to protect the king as a member of the royal guard. Maybe she was supposed to protect him as his queen.   She looked up at him almost hopeful. “And what was his response?”

  Aeneas smiled, "Well he gave me permission and told me good luck because you were going to guard the crown. Then I opined that you might prefer my brother, who is honestly the better catch. Then he said that wasn't funny and things went downhill from there..." He frowned. "You deserve better, Sarissa. Truly."

  She looked at him with a shocked expression. “I deserve better than the affections of the crown prince?” She shook her head in disbelief, then searched his eyes. “I think you have more in common with your brother than you realize, Aeneas.”   She hesitated for a moment as she tried to think of what to say next. She felt as if her entire life path could change in this one moment. Her grey eyes swirled with emotion as she gazed at him and she knew she needed to choose her words carefully. “I am not so special, Aeneas. I am just a girl who thought she knew exactly what she wanted in life. But really I know nothing. My brother was not wrong, I’ve always had aspirations of following in my father’s footsteps. That’s the only dream I’ve ever had. To guard the crown.” She sighed deeply. Her voice was soft and quiet. “That was so much my dream that I had blinders up whenever I was around you. I felt I had to keep a professional distance.” She looked up into his eyes. She whispered softly as she stroked his cheek. “Tonight the blinders came off. I didn’t realize what I had been missing.”

  He took her hand and delicately feathered circles across her knuckles with his thumb. The brilliant amethyst of his gaze met her beautiful dark eyes. And for a longtime he just lost himself in her gaze. He finally closed his eyes a minute and sighed. "You deserve someone who can devote themselves to you. Not divide their attention to you with the attention that the Crown demands. You deserve someone who doesn't have to be fair and subject you to the cattle show of a social season. You deserve someone who can wrap their arms around you and kiss you on the street corner, or on the beach, or on a park bench and doesn't have to worry about which paparazzi outlet may capture a photo." He shook his head. "It's likely the most selfish thing I've ever done asking to court you, wanting to court you.."

  She looked into his eyes and smiled. “Aeneas, you are worthy and deserving of all those things too. I understand the demands of the crown. Probably better than any of the other girls who will be at social season. You deserve happiness too. You deserve to be loved.” She looked deep into his eyes as she thought for a moment. She spoke softly, her voice full of emotion. “I give you permission, Aeneas. Please don’t push me away.” She shifted her gaze downward, then looked back up at him. “We will never know if we don’t try. And if you choose not to court me, I will be here anyway. Ready to protect you with my life. Always wondering what could have been in the back of my mind. Watching the queen and wondering what made her good enough when I was not.” She turned her head away suddenly as her voice cracked with emotion and tears welled up in her eyes. She took a few deep breaths to compose herself, keeping her hand clasped with his. She looked up at him with sad eyes. “You’re not being selfish. Wanting a true connection with someone who can know who you truly are beyond the crown is not selfish. It is brave.”

  His eyes searched hers in turmoil as a deep desire to kiss her raged through him and waged war with his resolve. Finally his voice deep and soft he managed, "I am honored Lady Sarissa." He bowed over her hand as though to kiss her knuckles but turned her hand and softly kissed her wrist, then unable to quite let go smoothed his thumb across her palm and planted another kiss there. He stood up straight, shoulders square, composed crown prince and offered her his arm. "It is very late my lady. May I get you a car to take you home?"

  Sarissa’s breath hitched as Aeneas’ kisses on her wrist and palm sent electricity up her arm and straight to her core. She trembled slightly as she threaded her arm through his. “I’m sorry. Am I keeping you awake Aeneas?” She knew it was late and her 8 am class the next morning was the furthest thing from her mind at the moment. She never thought that he may have an early day as well.

  His eyes flew to hers with a flash of startling intensity. His voice was very low and flowed through her. "It is a certainty that you will Sarissa." Then he blinked. He laid his hand over hers on his arm and escorted her back to the hallway. He smiled at the first guard they came across. "Tevi, could you please call for a car for Lady Sarissa?"   The man gave him a short bow and spoke into his headset.   Aeneas turned to her and smiled softly. "I have enjoyed this evening tremendously, Lady Sarissa. Might I call on you tomorrow?"

  Sarissa smiled up into his violet eyes. “Please do, Aeneas.” She smiled shyly and broke their gaze as she glanced downward. “This is the best night I’ve had in a long time. Thank you.”

[daytodaymusings]

23 things that have led me to where I am now... (24)

It’s crazy to think that I turned 24 yesterday ... this past year has been one heck of a rollercoaster (and no I am not trying to make a Jonas brother pun here). I’ve had so many experiences on both a small and big scale all of which I’ll take with me in year twenty four and more. But here’s a breakdown of the twenty three BIG ones.

1. I attended a Jonas Brothers Concert ... and it was by far THE BEST present I’ve ever given myself. After years of pining over them *looks over at life size poster in the living room* and screaming their lyrics on the top of my lungs with my best friends I finally got the chance to see THE Jonas Brothers LIVE. IN CONCERT. Not to mention, I got to touch Nick and possibly Joe? (I don’t know the night was a blur from the excitement and disbelief). Such a massive moment in my friendship with S too! 

2. I lost my Grandmother ... who I had just spoken to the night before on the phone. who I adore more than anything in the world. who got me started on soap operas and washing my hands after I touch everything. who broke her arm trying to keep me from falling out of the bed when I was younger and made fun of me for putting on make up when I was older. & who made me laugh because she was so cute and lively and had such a personality. It hurts that I was worlds away when it happened and it hurts knowing that I don’t have someone to go back to anymore, in what used to be my favorite place in the world. Hold on tight to the ones you love, kids. You never know when you’ll be saying your last “I love you”. (You love me)

3. I celebrated my other Grandmother’s birthday with a surprise trip ... we went on a cruise with the majority of the family and I had such a great time celebrating and laughing with her. May have also developed asthma from all the smoke inhalation because someone just HAD to get all the BINGO letters for the $100 prize at the casinos... *spoiler alert: we didn’t get it* But we did make it away with a bag of chocolates stolen from a secret birthday event for her and others. Grandma drunk on laughter = the best kind of drunk. 

4. I started nursing school ... because I finally realized what makes my heart skip a beat. It isn’t just having the ability to care for another human being. I love watching sick babies recover and finally get to go home, seeing the faces of first time parents and grandparents when they hold their newborn. I love the coo-ing noises the babies make when they are happy in your arms or in a bathtub. And I love how at work I am inspired by all the people and stories around me. (Low key hate myself for not realizing all of this sooner though... could’ve saved some $$$). 

5. I traveled to Australia ... an unexpected but much needed trip I decided to tag along with my parents and Grandma (and a few others), who had been planning it for awhile. I hadn’t traveled anywhere new in awhile and Australia was beyond my wildest dreams. In total in the whole week (9 days?) I was there I ate 5 meals and averaged 3 hours of sleep a night. Was it healthy though? Yes, cause I learned about a whole new culture and saw spectacular views of a lifetime. 

6. I wrote a song ... and it was SO. MUCH. FUN. I took this analogy that I had been thinking of for so long and just put it into words. It honestly came to me when I was at the casino on the cruise and looked over at the LOML and suddenly I spilled feelings that I had been hiding for a long time onto a page and added a melody that reminded me of the moment and the feelings... and I showed it to a few people who said it sounded like my idol, #TaylorSwift. AHHH!

7. And then another one ... came to fruition. Suddenly I had two songs and a whole new hobby I enjoyed that allows me to put beautiful, heartbreaking, magical, angry moments into frames filled with words. 

8. I cleaned this guy’s house ... and thought maybe for one second he’d maybe just maaayyyybeeee like me back. A part of me also did it for closure, which I got by leaving a 2 paged letter on how I felt about him and how I finally realized I had to let go, because as much as I loved him he would never see me that way...ever. Even after everything we had put each other through. And in case you were wondering, by clean, I mean I spent 4+ hours on all fours wiping up vomit and beer off the floor and washing his dishes because why stop with the floor, right? 

9. Made a couple new friends ... E.C & C.J you guys know who you are. Thank you for being the only two people who understand me and being up for drinking a margarita with me any time, any day. #PrayForOurLivers But also, I love our friendship and how I know I always have my back no matter what. 

10. Cut off some “friends” ... which was a long time coming. I hurt. Especially the moment that I realized I was depending on people who were no longer there. Who only needed me when they needed me and would tell me I owed them or they owed me. That’s just not what friendship is and not the kind of relationships I want in life. I don’t want to wake up wondering if I was used by someone I care for and wondering why we only hang out once in a blue moon when convenient for them.

11. Hosted 5 girls from Spain ... who I bonded with and learned a lot from in regards to our nursing educations. We went to DC and the beach and there was one awesome night of drunken craziness that brought back memories of when I was in Spain. #TQESPAÑA I also learned to step out of my comfort zone and make new friends even if I might not feel comfortable right away because they seem 3387420974923 times cooler. But the truth is.. (and I think I need to reread this line over and over on the bad days).... people will accept you for your generosity and hospitality. Your looks and how “cool” you are don’t matter on a large scale. It’s how you are willing to go out for people even if you don’t know them that really sticks out and makes you friend and human material. And who knows, you might even make new friends in new places. 

12. Went on a Spontaneous Busch Gardens Trip ... screamed. and shout(ed). and let it all out. It was a much needed time and a crazy ass trip. We got to ride The Gryffin, aka MY FAVORITE RIDE EVER, 5 times before we left the park. And even with the rain, we still had an amazing time together. Big lesson here? You have to make the best of every moment and create your own sunshine. You deserve it. 

13. Took a 2 hour break at work ... I NEVER take breaks. And if I do it is maybe 30 minutes total in my 12 hour day. It is something I get yelled at for but I can’t sit around knowing people need help. But one day, E and I got lunch cause we were both working and then celebrated with milkshakes later in the afternoon, totaling to 2 hours of recovered time from the year and a half I have not been taking breaks. Regrets? None. My body and mind needed it so very much. 

14. Had one awesome night playing basketball ... gosh I don’t even remember how it happened but I remember having the respect of every guy in the room. Being the only girl that plays with them can suck, especially cause testosterone runs high and boys can be rude and such ball hoggers. What’s so big about winning? NOTHING. But I definitely won that night and showed ‘em I’m just as capable if not more. *cue the song “Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better”*

15. Completed my fourth Spartan Race ... the BEAST, which sucked due to the cold. (Thanks, Winter). But it was so so so so AWESOME seeing what I had been capable of accomplishing. of what my body is able to do. Even more so it was just all such a fun experience and the first time I set my mind to something and just committed and stuck it out, even though my body would ache and it was tiring driving a whole day in the car to get to places, sleep 2 hours, and race. 

16. Told what I thought was a white lie ... but even white lies can turn a rainbow dark. I felt that I was doing the right thing, and later learned how wrong I was. Especially as time passed on and I kept up with the lie. The truth can be a very scary thing to admit to, but it’s important that you tell it because it sets you free. Even if it is the biggest mistake of your life and you know that once you say it aloud it makes it will make a deafening mark on your life, you have to. There just isn’t a way around it. 

17. Finished an essay months before it was due ... I’ve never been a procrastinator and I am so thankful for it. But also for those who are... let me just say... going into a semester knowing you’ve finished the biggest project that is going to be assigned = BEST. FEELING. IN. THE. WORLD. Right next to, Nick Jonas’s soft ass hands. 

18. Learned how to play the guitar ... which made songwriting possible. I always wanted to learn it because I love hearing acoustic versions of songs and also Taylor Swift. It’s amazing what you can accomplish with the help of youtube, 4 chords, and hella determination. 

19. Finally realized that people aren’t capable of change ... and it’s ok. Sometimes we don’t need people to change who they are, we have to change ourselves and our perspectives. The world isn’t black and white. We all have the ability to see it however we want to. But most importantly, when we do decide to make a change, we need to make sure we’re doing it all for the right reasons. We shouldn’t do it for someone to want us. We shouldn’t do it because we saw someone else do it. We do it because it’s the right thing for us ... and stick to it because one change can make a hell of a difference. 

20. Finished 6 ice cream bars in one sitting ... and then went to cycle bar. 0/10 recommend. 

21. Stopped responding right away ... because NO ONE should ever spend every single second of their life glued to a small screen. There is so much life around us and it’s become such a bad habit for us to forget that and to lose ourselves in social media. 

22. Started Travel Pig’s instagram ... @itstravelpig for those who want to add her. (YES, MY FRIENDS, I’VE DECIDED IT IS A HER/SHE/GIRL.) I thought it could build some cultural awareness or atleast be a platform to share cool story about new places. But i’ve been slacking on it... oops. But traveling and learning about new cultures have been a huge part of my growing up and I wanted to share it and try to help people realize that even with all the differences in skin tone we’re all just amazing human beings capable of so much beauty. 

23. Blew out the candles on my melting cake ... without making a wish. It was there, in that moment, that I realized I am truly happy again. I have found a good group of people to surround myself with, passion, a new hobby, but most importantly MYSELF. I don’t think it all would have been possible without all the hurt and confusion that I have felt in the past two years, so I’m thankful that people took me for granted and left me out on the side of the street. But... 

a very important honorable mention is needed now. I have to say, I wouldn’t be this type of happy if it were not for a special someone, who has stayed by my side through it all. Even in the worst times, you stayed and held onto me, making sure I knew I still had a home even though I was wandering around...lost. I love you. You know who you are. 

Those who were there in the passing, those who got away, thank you for teaching me to appreciate life and the moments. Those who left without a backwards glance, you all will never be forgotten and will instead serve as gentle reminders that I am better because of them. stronger too. Those who stayed, well, let me just say, I can’t wait to see what 24 has in store. 

Cheers to one hell of a ride and the start of 24. 

[mybukz]

Work-in-progress: When Plan's Stolen by Fate by Deborah Wong

Image by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

When Plan’s Stolen by Fate (Novel excerpt from “One Maple Summer’) By Deborah Wong

It’s July 2010. I’m praying the germ-infused Boeing 777 will land in one piece at Vancouver International Airport, and my Nokia 1202 from back home will function. The Pacific Coast forces may have stolen a bit of my luck as I now have no signal—the battery was well-fed and ready to kick ass.

“If you need any assistance, please don’t hesitate to call me,” Sandy, the UBC accommodation officer says. Her smile shines sunnier than the Kellogg’s TV happy family commercial.

I thank her and she hugs me.

“Is there a public phone I can use around this area?”

“There’s one at the concierge but it’s under repair. You can try the one at the Student Centre, about ten minutes walking distance.”

“Alright, thanks for the info.”

“No worry. Take care.”

My heart sinks faster than the Titanic; my headache from the jet lag keeps me up like synchronised car hydraulics coupled with Eminem’s rap. To make matters worse, I’m unable to call my parents about my safe arrival—thanks to my dead phone. Sitting here alone, I want to throw myself off the bouncy comfortable bed, snooze off, and let the tantalising air joyride into a lullaby. No one would yell at me for falling asleep; I smell like an overripe durian.

The digital clock in black and white on the wall states 4:44pm.

With a foggy light brain, I try to balance and change into a fleece hooded sweater and denim shorts. I have no choice but to head to the Student Centre. I hope to stumble—miraculously—onto a phone booth. I roll my Holy Rosary in my pocket.

I step out of the dorm and lock the door like an infant experiencing the glaring evening sun at the foreign land. The cold breeze sweeps onto my face and penetrates my head and whole body. I solemnly declare my brain frozen without the help of immense scoops of Haagen Daaz.

I hear thumping footsteps. I brace for the worst. My hand grips the tree, and I prep myself to fly kick à la Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon.

As the footsteps get closer, I punch out my left fist and yell.

When I open my eyes, a man in glasses frowns. “Are you okay?”

I clear my throat and adjust my hooded jacket, embarrassed. “Of course, I…was practising my Kung-Fu.”

He smirks. “You picked the wrong place. What if I carried a knife and I stabbed you as self-defence? You’re lucky I’m not a pervert. You never know what a motherfucker will do. Next time don’t hide behind the tree.”

“Okay, thanks for your advice.” I choke as I feel my face heat up like a red lobster.

“Have a pleasant day and a great summer.”

“I know this sounds crazy but if you don’t mind, could you please lend me your phone? I need to send a text home.”

He turns and studies me.

“I know this sounds weird but I just got here and my phone isn’t working. I really, really need to send a text to my dad back in Kuala Lumpur, to let him know I’ve reached here. Why don’t I pay you a dollar?”

He thinks for a while. “Alright, I won’t charge a cent.” He takes out his Blackberry. “You want to type it yourself?”

“It’s better if you type it for me. It’s your phone anyway.”

“Okay.“ He types like a world champion, listening to me. “You may want to take a look before I send the text.”

I quickly read it. “Okay, you can send it now. Thank you.”

“That’ll be fifty cents service charge.”

“WHAT.”

“Hey, I was joking. I may charge if you’re texting your boyfriend. Anyway, welcome to Vancouver and UBC. I stay in Pacific Crescent.”

“Where is that?”

“Go straight from here, right behind the Asian Studies building, near the Nitobe Memorial Garden.”

“That place looks posh. I’m sure it cost you quite a bit.”

“I have friends coming over very often; hence staying in a dorm isn’t a smart choice. An apartment feels more like a home to me.” He glances at his gunmetal watch. “I need to rush to the convenient store. It’s a great pleasure knowing you.”

“Do they sell any sandwiches or pastries?”

“They only have selection of sandwiches, instant salad and packed sushi.”

“Great, maybe you can show me the way?”

“Sure, no problem…”

“I didn’t get your name.” I walk beside him.

“I’m Jun Nakamura.”

I have not been in this foreign land for twelve hours and I’ve been invited to this house party. Jun tells me Mansfield Heights is the most eventful student housing area in UBC, coming alive only in summer.

There’re blue poles along the cemented walkway and red lightings at each corner. If anyone looks suspicious, ready for misdemeanour or voyeurism, one presses the emergency intercom, a safety object for students, a deterrent. On the other hand, if I were in such situation, I’d run for my life and be sure to look out for this emergency button.

“There’s surveillance camera installed in each lamppost for supervision that links directly to the Vancouver Police Department,” Jun says. His hair is ruffled into pointy soft spikes. He is wearing peasant’s crinkled cut washed jeans and a white t-shirt that reveals his fine avid gym-goer chest.

“So, what kind of party your friend’s having?”

“Booze drinking, cigarettes smoking, chatting and whole loads of eating; take a look around you, it is Friday night but we have to clear the coast by midnight.“ He stops and studies me. “Have you been to any house party before?”

“I did but it was long time ago.”

“How long is long time?”

“I think about fourteen years ago.”

“Whoa, that’s like immeasurable yards away. Anyway we’re here.”

Jun ambles to this NHL nightclub bouncer lookalike, except he has a crimson face and dirty blondish hair. Their greeting is front and back palms slapping and then fists punching like the ghetto Harlem boys.

“Oh c’mon, we don’t welcome underage here.” He stares at me.

“I’m already twenty-eight.”

He laughs. “Sorry, my bad…But you don’t look like your age.”

“So, am I invited?” I raise my brows.

“Of course, you PYT, I’m Montgomery Peterson. Everyone calls me Monty.”

“I’m Maxine Cheong, nice to meet you, Monty.”

Out of nowhere, a girl hops into Jun’s arms, giving him a bear hug, and a quick peck on his cheek. She has porcelain skin and raven shoulder-length hair. “You’re late!”

“Kendra, I want to introduce you to Maxine from Malaysia.“ Jun lets go of her.

“Oh, how un-fucking-believable…” She covers her mouth and smacks his arm. “So, you decided to change your taste for the better, huh?”

“Well, I’m not Jun’s girlfriend,” I smile, curtly.

“Don’t be so serious and spoil the party, or else I’ll throw you out.”

I turn to Jun. Everyone seems to have gone quiet.

“I was just joking. I’m Kendra Choi.” Her tone becomes friendlier.

“Maxine Cheong.”

“You have the coolest name here in Vancouver so far lucky-lucky you.”

Jun returns to the crowd after answering a phone call. “It’s Makoto and he’s stranded at the guardhouse with Yosuke and Paul. The security guard refused to let them in, despite their party invitation pass.”

“Speaking of that guard, he kept calling me a Mongolian and asked whether my family slaughtered horses for a living,” Kendra says.

After Monty and Jun leave to rescue their friends, Kendra and I bump past party-goers before reaching the house living room. She speaks into my ear. “Sorry to disappoint you but it’s still too early to spot a drunkard.”

“I guess they’ll become Intoxicated Cinderella by midnight.”

All the seats are occupied. I have to sit on the carpeted floor, among vinyls of Ozzy Osborne, Green day, Dave Matthews Bands, Cypress Hills, Queen, David Bowie, Rage Against The Machine, just to name a few. Kendra has returned from the washroom.

“Monty once formed an indie rock band during his teens. The band was quite a success from Port Coquitlam to White Rock. But then a fight broke out a day before they were supposed to sign a million-dollar record deal. You wanna know why? The bassist caught the lead guitarist fucking his girlfriend in their trailer. Hell broke lose. All the instruments were damaged by the bassist who ran amok. Worse still, the boys have to pay off the loan and the damaged instruments to the music shop.”

“What instrument Monty played?” I refuse to accept an opened cap bottled drink from a random guy.

“Drums and percussion. He was also a turntablist,” she says with a shrug and a snort, “but one lesson that no other guys will ever learn: do not let your girlfriend join the band practise. Girls fall head over heels with men who play guitars or drums.”

I grab a can of Dr. Pepper from the refreshment bar, while Kendra fills up a plate with finger food. A guy by the banister eyes us before taking up with a girl. Both head upstairs after the guy winks at me.

We spot a three-seater sofa.

“These seats are meant for both of you, my exotic princesses,” says a Hispanic-looking man. He has been feeding another man with bacon stripes.

The Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged record is spinning in the vintage oak wood player. I’ve always been mesmerised by Kurt Cobain’s baritone voice.

“I don’t like his grinding dick voice.” Kendra walks to the player and lifts the needle with the cue lever. “Thanks to Janis Joplin, Joan Jett and Amy Lee, rock music is in my blood now.” She puts on a vinyl of The Runaways, that Cherry Bomb song filled with chattering noises and perfumed muskiness.

“I love X-Japan. Do you like them?”

“Me too!” We do a high-five. “But if you want me to wear a hanbok and play the gayageum in front of Korean men. No way José! Over my dead body! It looks damn submissive. I’ve been referred as a ‘leftover woman’ for not yet being married.”

“You’re not alone. I hear that very often. It happens to me as well. And what a cruel term is that? Nowadays in the Asian community, single and unmarried women are hiring men online to be their boyfriend to please their folks during festive seasons, or to attend their friend’s wedding.”

“Women have the earning power and are financially independent too. Some will have to succumb to the social pressure of not wanting to be called ‘leftover’, hence they get married and start a family, work their peachy-butts out, struggle to get promotion at work, earning more monies for the sake of their children. In the end of the day, it’s always easy to say. But to preserve such feminist though is difficult.”

“I’m in my thirties and not looking forward into getting married,” she says.

“Let’s make a toast to both of us, the most attractive leftovers.”

I raise my paper cup.

She pokes her nose. “Damn, how come I don’t even know you’ve been drinking orange juice? Let’s get you a beer.”

“I’m still recovering from jet lag. Sorry.”

“You should come over to my place one day and we’ll cook up a storm.” She stretches to grab two bottles of beer. “I invite Jun along too. He’s good at ramen, sushi, butter-poached seafood and miso soup.”

“Isn’t that…a big task for him?” I take a bottle but put it aside.

“Give me a break. That guy’s a chef.”

“Jun…is a chef?”

“That smoochy-bear, he is freakingly dedicated and talented. He has worked in Washington DC’s Marriott for couple of years, and then quit after he was promoted to an assistant chef. As to why he quit, well, Jun doesn’t talk about it.”

“…must be those shitty management politics.”

“I still think teaching is the best work so far. Less office politics.”

“You’re a teacher?”

“I teach English to adults and young adults in Tokyo.“ She wipes bread crumbs from her mouth. “And I know this is something uncommon. Even my grandparents are strongly opposed to anyone of us working there due to the Japan-Korea Disputes. So what’d you do for a living?”

“I’ve worked in an insurance company’s claims department for three years. It’s a huge department but most employees quit after the three-month probation. I handle mostly personal accident, employees’ medical bills reimbursement and at times on workers’ provident fund dispute.”

“Any weird cases you’ve dealt with?”

I lean my head on the sofa. “I was reading a decomposed body autopsy report in the food court and a waiter cringed when he saw those bloodied photos of torn phalanges on the claim file. He asked whether the man’s still alive. I said he should be lucky that his fingers didn’t fly into his colleagues’ mouth. His reaction was like this…” I imitate the painting from The Scream.

“Your work is very CSI-ish, so to speak. By the way, I’m curious as to how Jun and you get to know each other.”

“I bumped onto him when my cellphone isn’t working and he helped me to send a text message home.”

“I think you’ve missed the most crucial part.” Jun is walking toward us with a bottle.

Kendra sniffs Jun’s neck. “You smell like fresh from the crispy oven.” She puts her arm over his waist. “He is always so helpful, but inviting you to his friend’s party is his first time. Lot of girls are trying to get their hands on him too.”

Jun whispers to me. “She’s out.”

She clutches her beer bottle, a smile forming on her face. “But you serve a good impression on me, but my experiences taught me not to trust an acquainted human girl too much.”

Later that night, Kendra follows me like a puppy afraid to lose direction. Her eyes stay on Jun whenever we’re engaged in an ear-to-ear conversation because of the loud music at the DJ stands. She puts three Budweiser in front of me. “You have to bottoms up. I don’t care.”

I still have those butterflies in my stomach and don’t have much appetite. But towards the second bottle, Jun pulls Kendra to the kitchen area, and asks Makoto to bring her more food.

Approaching midnight, Makoto offers to drive me back to the dorm, even though it’s only ten minutes walking distance. I’m unable to find Monty to bid goodbye. Jun tells me he’s already passed out near the toilet bowl, and he carries grumpy Kendra into the back of Makoto’s car. I wind down the window, inhale the gentle ocean breeze as the car moves along Marina Drive, but the tranquillity ends with Kendra counting chicken and sheep in a slur.

*

Deborah Wong: "My works have been published on numerous online journals and paperback magazine, including Crack the Spine, Rat’s Ass Review, Eksentrika, Thought Catalog, Liquid Imagination, Strange Horizons. Some are forthcoming from Frozen Wavelets and Seagery Zine. I have performed at local reading groups and open mic poetry sessions. I am currently working on a fictionalised travel memoir and some speculative poetry and fiction. I have an ongoing artwork-poetry crossover project with an emerging Australian artist on Instagram. You can follow me on Twitter @PetiteDeborah ‘When Plan’s Stolen by Fate’ is the first chapter of my work-in-progress semi-autobiographical novel ‘One Maple Summer’. The novel is about my intensive creative writing workshop at the University of British Columbia in the summer of 2010. At 28 I traveled for the first time 12 thousand kilometers to the other side of the continent. My debit card and cellphone failed, and the one-month stay at a pen pal’s place turned out not as imagined. However, things navigated otherwise when I received accolades from my creative writing course instructors. Discovering the melting pot of diverse cultural background of acquaintances made traveling worth a lifetime.”

[goldmedalninja]

Music in Me: A Ninjago OC Day one-shot (4/4)

Last one! First of all, I want to thank @evelinaonline for creating today. This was so fun! I haven’t written like this in years.

Now for technical things. I headcannon Cole as demisexual, so that’s why I chose this relationship. Second of all, I do not own the song mentioned. But it’s so good. The official recording is sung by Keala Settle (ie. This is Me from Greatest Showman) and she slays.

—————————————

Bri didn’t really know how to have a long term relationship. Her parents divorced when she was 9, and since then she hasn’t exactly been trusting of people. It was a miracle that she had as many friends as she did now.

Part of the reason she hasn’t had anything long term was because of her mother. Not only was she a strong believer of school first, love later, she was also a homophobe. Which made Bri’s life as a bisexual insanely hard.

Luckily she only had to hide it once every 2 years when her mom decided to visit, so at least that was easy.

She didn’t know why she was thinking about this, alone in one of the practice rooms after school, but her time with the piano was a way for her to reflect.

She was about 3 show-tunes in before she was interrupted by the door. Whipping around, she saw her best friend’s brother, Cole.

“Sorry. Didn’t know it was you.”

“No, it’s okay. Come in.”

Cole sat down on one of the chairs meant for music students, pulling up next to Bri at the piano.

“You play?” She asked.

“Kind of a requirement in my house.”

“Right. Maria has mentioned that before.”

“She’s lucky she convinced Dad to let her do guitar lessons instead.”

“She is persuasive like that.”

Both chuckled. She scooted over to make room for him to play. He accepted, playing a song she recognized from a musical.

“Waitress? Really?”

“I know you and Maria love this musical. You can sing if you want.”

Taking his challenge, she sang. ‘I Didn’t Plan It’ wasn’t exactly in her vocal range, but God, was it a good song. When they finished, silence reigned for a few minutes before Cole spoke up.

“How come you aren’t in choir or theater or anything? You’d be a hit.”

“Anxiety, really.” Speaking of which, a million red flags were going off in her head. ‘Why am I disclosing this info to my best friend’s brother? Don’t forget your massive crush on him.’ “I haven’t gone out on stage since 6th grade choir when I puked during our rendition of Jingle Bells.” ‘Would you STOP TELLING HIM THINGS LIKE THAT?!?’

“Oh yeah. I remember that.” She expected him to continue, but he didn’t. ‘Okay, but you aren’t clear yet.’

“That’s why I joined tech theater. It’s at least a way to participate in the show without having to be on stage.”

“I understand.” She looked at him, shocked. “I hate being in the spotlight, too.”

“Because of your father pushing you towards a performance career?” He looked surprised at her, and immediately her thoughts focused on one word.

‘F*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck-‘

He chuckled. “I guess. But he’s finally relented and let us decide what we want to do.”

“And what is that?” ‘Why the hell are you prying? He looks so uncomfortable-‘

“I don’t know. I wish being a ninja was a full time thing. And there aren’t too many DJ options.”

She placed a hand on his. “You’ll figure it out.”

He put his hand on top of hers. “I know.”

The bell rang, indicating free period was over. Realize they were practically holding hands, both pulled away, blushing.

“I guess that’s our cue.” Bri grabbed her bag and stood up. Cole did the same.

“Yeah.”

After leaving the room, Cole stopped Bri before she went in the opposite direction.

“Do you wanna talk sometime? Maybe over coffee?”

‘What the hell this is a trap he’s probably going to embarrass you-‘

“Sure.” She pulled out her phone. “Give me your number. I’ll text you.”

After that, they parted ways. Cole watched her leave, a smile on his face.

[astrofireworks]

ASTRO WITCH COVEN AU (MJ)

introduction | rocky | eunwoo | moon bin | mj | jinjin

TW: a lot of mentions of blood & also kidnapping

Blood ritualist

Nobody knows for sure what happens in MJ’s ritual room because he’s claimed the top floor of their three-floor coven house

They just know not to go in the room to the right of the stairs if there’s a red ribbon on the door handle until MJ tumbles out of the room, exhausted and usually coated in a light layer of blood 

If you press your ear to the door handle you can hear vague chanting and sometimes a little humming if MJ’s taking a break

One time Sanha tried snooping and sat outside the door watching the crack at the bottom of the door for movement

he heard MJ’s chanting fade into silence and there was a flash of bright light

and then there was a knock on the wall somewhere behind him

oh riP NEVER AGAIN NEVER AGAIN

Sanha doesn’t even dare go up MJ’s stairs now poor baby

Gets results like 777% of the time because he’s really good at what he does, bless his heart

usually comes out of the ritual tired and covered in blood but beaming

cue a dismayed jinjin because he has to do the laundry & even though MJ wears a hooded black ankle-length robe that should technically protect his clothes underneath from stains

MJ manages to stain them anyway

Jinjin has to soak all of his clothes in vinegar every time

Rip Jinjin

But MJ just smiles in his general direction and Jinjin is lost to the world again so never mind

Tends not to talk about his family

Tends not to talk about his life pre-KNK at all actually

What little Astro knows of MJ pre-KNK is what small snippets they’ve gleaned from conversations with KNK or from carefully inferring from things MJ lets slip during small talk

And this much Astro knows:

Whatever came before KNK has made MJ terrified of the dark – he has to have at least a source of light next to him or a human touch grounding him

What Came Before has also made MJ a vegetarian for life

KNK, our token immortal vampires (sparkly or not depending on how much Heejun has had to drink), have been moving around the country with MJ pretending one person or another is his father, uncle, cousin or brother and basically brought our sunshine baby up

Despite being a blood ritualist, MJ never goes near live animals to get blood – he always always always goes to KNK for anything he needs

And more often than not, MJ only accepts requests for rituals that bring small things back to life or rituals that locate someone or something missing

And those rituals exhaust MJ like nothing else can because MJ invests everything he has into getting whatever it is back for his client

Jinjin knows more than the rest, actually

Because the things that hurt MJ before?

If the rest of Astro knew What Came Before, MJ’s sure they’d attempt to form a game plan to go after them

And MJ’s sure they’ll lose

I mean, Astro might be powerful in their own right but they’re firstly newly established and secondly no match for that part of the magical world

And Jinjin, while as full as the rest of Astro (if not more) with the burning desire to punch whatever it was that hurt him before into oblivion, is the only one mature enough to recognise tha

 Also, he’s the only human and the only one incapable of contacting What Came Before

Also he kind of melted MJ over time so really it wasn’t entirely MJ’s fault stupid Jinjin came in with his dumb attractive smile and his stupid handsome face and his cute ass dimples and bright eyes and soft caring hands

And this much Jinjin knows:

MJ was kidnapped at a very young age by another coven, one that practiced sacrificial rituals

He spent a very long month in the basement with about 10 other kids until a rival coven broke into their house and took all the ‘would-be sacrifices’ with them

And all the kids were relieved at first until they realised

They were about to be sold in an auction to other sacrificing covens

And long story very very very very short, MJ was lucky enough to be shuttled back and forth between different buyers for about a year without being ‘used’ before landing into KNK’s lap

Quite literally

One of the cars used by the selling coven crashed into a lamppost on the street a couple of houses down from KNK’s

And upon realising that both the driver and the handler were dead MJ clambered out of the van, bloodied and terrified, right into Youjin’s arms

So KNK cleaned him and the whole accident up and questioned him gently and tried to get him back to his parents but to no avail

And so they raised him

oh my god I never meant to make his backstory like this it just came out

I’m so sorry

But yes brought up by KNK

And so imagine five grown-ass men (with an average height of 185cm, I might add) standing dumbfounded around a kitchen table with a young son with big, watery eyes and a trembling bottom lip  

Because MJ doesn’t want to eat any of his vegetables

Jihun at a loss 

Inseong trying to sing MJ into opening his mouth

I mean, KNK knows that MJ refuses to touch meat of any kind and that he really loves eating rice but they really can’t figure out why MJ refuses to eat his vegetables

It’s because KNK

Really

Cannot

Cook

Ok but to be fair they haven’t really had to cook for the past sixty or so years

And also they eventually figured out that they shouldn’t trust Seungjun with preparing vegetables at all and that the only one in the whole house capable of cooking any sort of green thing without burning it into a crisp is Heejun

Also, Inseong being the closest to MJ and teaching MJ to sing and harmonise and just playing with him and being twin sunshines

Heejun tucking MJ in and strumming lazily on the guitar until MJ drifts off to sleep

Jihun putting a smol MJ on his shoulders and dancing around their newly-installed kitchen while preparing orders for clients

Seungjun being the ultimate softest with MJ, bringing him different charms to play around with

Youjin the only one vaguely serious about giving MJ a proper education and so MJ from a young age learns how to charm clients (beam very brightly at them) and take orders and label deliveries

This makes me so happy adjfhsjkdf but I’m sorry for what’s coming

Had the worst time a couple years later when he found out how KNK was getting their blood and locked himself in his room for about 2 days crying not so much in fear (because really who can be scared of KNK they’re just very tol idiots) than in distress

Inseong sitting outside his room crying and apologising and trying to do everything he could to calm MJ down

In the end it was Jihun who gently talked to MJ through the keyhole about a human family that he was friends with for generations and generations that was looking for an heir and was more than happy to take MJ

And that KNK would get out of his life forever if that was what MJ wanted and if MJ gave the signal KNK would vacate the house for as long as it took for MJ to move out so he wouldn’t have to see them

And another very long story short, MJ decided that he would just stay very far away from KNK’s blood-obtaining means and stay with the hyungs that he loved as family

Because (as MJ came to realise) as vampires there really wasn’t another source to obtain blood from and it ultimately wasn’t really their fault

Loves teasing KNK about their fangs

Once made Heejun cry with relief because he panicked thinking MJ touched his fangs but his fangs weren’t out at the time

Dresses up as a vampire every single Halloween even though he never leaves the house

Knocks on every single member’s door asking for candy though

And he knows they buy candy only for him so he gets them all

Youjin has to make sure he brushes his teeth every time

Youjin: “or you’re going to get fangs and where will we be?”

Seungjun, lazing on the sofa, playing a game on his phone: “you can’t get fangs from eating too much candy”

Youjin: “shUT UP SEUNGJUN I’M TRYING TO TEACH HIM A LESSON HERE”

MJ, a lil shit: “I heard seungjun hyung, I can’t get fangs from eating too much candy!!!”

Youjin: “godDAMMIT SEUNGJUN I’M GOING TO KILL YOU”

Rip Seungjun

MJ, cackling and screeching to a distressed Jihun: “yoUJIN HYUNG SAID A BAD WORD!!!!!”

Eventually starts leaving the house on delivery rounds with Seungjun, but only in the car and in broad daylight

Seungjun complains about having to go out in the sun but Inseong just tells him to shut up, he’s in the car half the time anyway

Seungjun secretly liking having his personal ball of sunshine cuddled up on the car seat next to him and cracking dumb jokes

Sometimes has to stop the car because he’s laughing too hard at MJ’s dad jokes

All their clients cooing over the smiley human teen Seungjun brings around

Eventually one kindly client (affectionally coined the Nam-ster by MJ) offers to teach him some magic

And after a lot of discussion about safety and worried mothering by Youjin and Jihun he’s shuttled to Eric’s house every day for lessons

And so MJ picks up blood magic

And also picks up general human things that KNK has never thought to teach him (like cooking vegetables properly and dealing with other humans and how to pick fresh vegetables at the supermarket)

Anyways back to astro

Came in after everyone else (except Sanha)

Ok so Astro’s house is right next to KNK’s

and one day MJ peeks his head over the fence at their neighbours wondering who the hell moved in next door

and sees Jinjin watering the herb garden patch outside

and :---) well first sight and all that

insists on bringing brownies to their next door neighbours despite Heejun floundering a bit around the oven and burning the brownies slightly

Inseong quietly cheering his baby boy on

His son’s first crush!!!!

Not including that one really handsome client that MJ tripped over his own feet in front of that one time and refused to visit ever again !!!!!!

Bogum’s been stuck wondering what it was he did wrong that the smiley young son never visited again

poor dear

And so KNK clusters around the few windows that overlook the side of the yard that connects with Astro’s and spies on MJ ringing their doorbell

And they all watch as MJ proceeds to charm the pants off of Jinjin

And the rest is history

Inseong crying when MJ moves over even though MJ’s third floor bedroom window directly faces his own and they talk every night before MJ sleeps anyway

What a precious bean can you tell this man is my bias

MJ’s golden triangle (KNK’s coven mark) fading over time after being marked by Astro’s silver curve across his collarbones

Noisy noisy noisy

Oh my god Bin wants to kill him half the time MJ sings all the time and it always wakes Bin up from his post-afternoon-nap nap

If Jinjin wasn’t so attached to MJ and if KNK weren’t so threatening sometimes Bin would have probably charmed MJ’s pants to hang from their ceiling fan or something

I want to say he mothers the rest of Astro because he’s the oldest but really

We all know the truth

Plays very well with Sanha

Could spend all day goading the poor child into doing something stupid

Most of them had to do with bothering Rocky and Bin

Poor Sanha never asked for this

But ok also Sanha really enjoys it so he kind of does

Spends half the time hanging out with Jinjin in the kitchen or in his room

Bet you 10$ anytime you walk in they’re watching anime or cooking

He’s so painfully gone for Jinjin sometimes Eunwoo wants to whack their heads together and tell them to wake up

Sanha could already tell like 2 days after he moved in that something was up between MJ and Jinjin

Eunwoo: desperately crying for his two idiot friends to wake up and get together already

Me: desperately crying bc the colours I’ve matched to Astro in this AU doesn’t match their colours in baby & highly considering editing all the posts so that their colours match

i’m finally getting back to writing out my headcanons instead of keyboard smashing them out to Jiwon bless