#imagine me hearing a perfect description of my screen in my headphones

[skoff-the-artist]

I will erase the nightmare you became It comes in waves, you're everything I hate You try to drag me down I'll cut you out and now I will erase the nightmare you became

From Ashes to New - Nightmare

[calpalirwin]

Better Now

Summary: Putting yourself back out there after a heartbreak is never easy, but you and Ashton are learning that it’s worth it.

A/N: Big thanks to @jessalyn-jpeg​ for listening to me cry over Taylor Acorn songs while I figured out how to combine her latest releases into 1 fic.

Word Count: 2.6k

And away, and away we go!

__

Aside from the composition book that lay open on the coffee table, the recording room was empty. Face contorting in curious confusion, Ashton picked it up, thinking one of his bandmates had left it behind. But as he caught a glance at the words sprawled across the lined pages in black inked handwriting he didn’t recognize he knew he should have closed it. Songwriting was a very personal thing, and he would hate for anyone to find his own songbook lying around and read the contents. But the words jumped out at him, and he found himself taking a seat, still holding the notebook open in his hands.

“And no one comes to save you, you learn to save yourself. The world, it just keeps going on while you’re going through hell. No, it’s not all that it’s cut out to be. ‘Cuz you can’t hide behind the silver screen. Love ain’t like the movies.”

“Jesus…” he whispered to himself.

“Excuse me?” a female voice asked from the doorway, and Ashton jumped, snapping the notebook shut.

“Uh…” he stuttered, staring at the woman with her hair messily thrown up, dressed casually in jeans and a tank top, a tired but wild look in her bright eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”

She adjusted the guitar case strap on her shoulder. “Uh, I hope so? A notebook? Standard composition notebook. Black and white colored. Probably impossible to distinguish from any other black and white standard composition notebook. I know, super helpful description. You haven’t happened to see one lying around here, have you?”

“Like this?” Ashton asked, flashing the notebook in his hand.

“It would look exactly like that!” she brightened. Then, her smile faltered. “But that one’s probably yours, isn’t it?”

“Uh, actually no. It was on the coffee table when I came in. I, uh, thought it might be one of my bandmates, but it’s not their handwriting.”

“Oh, so you read it?” she asked. No anger or embarrassment. Just clarifying a fact.

Ashton rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry… I didn’t read a lot. Just enough to realize the handwriting was different.” He held out the notebook to her for her to take. “It’s uh, good by the way. Whatever you’re working on. Relatable.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking the notebook from him and flipping through the pages to confirm that it was in fact hers. “I really need to keep better track of my shit… Thanks for finding it.”

“Yeah, ‘course. And sorry again for reading bits of it.”

She waved a hand at his apology. “Oh, it’s fine. My fault for leaving it lying around. Sorry you can relate to it.”

Ashton shrugged. “Heartbreak: part of the standard human experience. Some of your lyrics actually remind me of a song my band put out once years ago. At the time I considered myself lucky to not be able to relate to it. But seeing yours… which is far more poetic than anything four teenage boys could come up with… I’m glad for songs like that. Makes you feel a little less alone in the drowning.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping this helps me at least start to tread water again. How long ago was the heartbreak for you?” she asked, then shook her head. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I should probably be going anyway. Let you get back to your shit, and go off to deal with mine.”

Ashton chuckled. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s been about four months for me. So still recent enough to sting like a bitch.”

She smiled and laughed a bit at his words, but there was a sadness to both. “Two and a half months for me. So just enough to actually drag myself out of my bedroom.”

“And down to a studio where some jackass reads your most personal feelings. Awesome…”

There was a bit more realness to her laugh this time around. “Honestly, not a problem. It’s meant for people to hear, you know?”

“I suppose that’s true. I’m Ashton, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

“Good luck with the song, Y/N. Feel better soon, yeah?”

“Thanks. You too.” She turned to head out of the room, before pausing and turning back around. “What was that song? The one your band made that you couldn’t relate to at the time?”

Ashton’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh. You don’t wanna hear that one, trust me. Cringey teenage attempt at being emo punk.”

“Damn… Emo punk is my favorite.”

Against his better judgement, Ashton pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright,” he gave in, pulling up the song. “But you’re not allowed to make fun of me. Like I said, this was years ago.”

Y/N held out her pinky finger. “No judgement, swear.”

Ashton linked his own pinky with hers, and hit play. For the next three and a half minutes he watched her carefully as she stood there with her eyes closed, nodding her head along with the beat. On one hand, he was glad her eyes were closed because it meant that she couldn’t see him watching her, or see his embarrassment. But on the other hand it meant that he had no clue what she was thinking. He hit pause before it could replay again. “Like I said, some of your lyrics have a similar feeling,” he said with a shrug.

She opened her eyes as she nodded. “Yeah, I see what you mean. About thinking you’re getting the fairytale movie ending one second, and the next the ending is anything but happily ever after. Was one of those solos you?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m the drummer. So-”

“Lots of back up,” she interrupted with a knowing nod. “Is it because you don’t sing at all? Or just out of convenience?”

“Mostly convenience. In our earlier days we used to split up singing pretty evenly. And then we all got more comfortable in our roles. But I still sing from time to time in more than a back up way.”

“That’s cool. And I bet it makes recording stuff and everything so much easier. I have to do a lot of borrowing or outsourcing to get all the sounds I want.”

“Not in a band, huh?”

“Nope. Just your regular solo artist.”

“That’s gotta get lonely.”

“It can be. But it also means making things in my vision, and not having to compromise on that.”

“Well, if you ever need someone to lay down some drum tracks, or just some company so you’re not drowning alone, I’m here most of the time.”

She nodded, understanding what he wasn’t saying about an intrinsic need to stay out of the house as much as humanly possible. Away from the memories that haunted every aspect of being awake. “Thanks, Ashton,” she said, once again turning to leave, but found herself turning back towards him, another question on her lips. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”

“Go for it.”

“What’s the hardest part of breaking up? Of trying to move on, and feel like yourself again?”

“Honestly? Waking up, and seeing that empty side of the bed. Hits you like a freight train all over again. That kind of overwhelming sense of dread that you’re never gonna feel normal again.”

“But then you get up, and try anyway, hoping that today it hurts just a little bit less than it did yesterday.”

“But it doesn’t, and you start to lose hope that the pain will ever stop.”

“That’s the hardest part.”

“The fuckin’ worst. But hey. It can’t suck forever. Or, that’s what I keep telling myself anyway. That’s what finally gets me out of bed.”

“And hey! Maybe I'll get a hit song out of it in the process, too.” She feigned a smile, flashing her notebook.

“Oh, that’ll be a hit, no question about it.”

“Thanks. For uh… well everything, I guess. See you around, Ashton.”

“Good luck, Y/N.”

~~~

Y/N eventually did get the courage to ask Ashton for both his company and musical help, on a day when she found it harder than normal to get up out of bed.

She trudged her way into the studio, spotting him watching a coffee pot in the common living area. “Oh, hey,” he smiled warmly as she pulled open the fridge. “Making a fresh pot if you want any.”

She shook her head, grabbing a water bottle and taking a few sips from it. “Can I get your help today?” she asked in a low whisper, hoping to hide the wobble in her tone.

“Yeah, of course. Everything alright?”

She shook her head again, then wordlessly left for her recording room.

“So, what’s up?” Ashton asked when he found her a few moments later, cup of coffee in hand.

“You’re not allowed to judge me for any vulnerability today.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good. Because this verse is gonna be really hard for me to record.”

He nodded, taking a seat while she set up behind a microphone. A soft guitar track started playing, and when she took a breath, Ashton prepared himself for lyrics of her most recent break up. So when her soft voice started singing, “ ‘Cuz after my dad died, even though she never let us see her cry, my mom was broken inside, ‘cause she just lost her best friend. Why don’t they prepare you for that? When the picture perfect life you had goes black,” to say he was shocked was a bit of an understatement.

There was a click of the track, and the guitar stopped, the headphones settling around her neck. “I’m sorry about your dad,” he spoke up softly. “I- that’s gotta be rough.”

“Most of the time it’s a dull ache. A small hum I can ignore if I don’t focus on it. But there’s a few days where the pain is all fresh, like I’m learning the news again for the first time. A shock to the system.”

“I like the juxtaposition of it all. Most of the time when people think of love gone wrong, or ending before we’re ready, it’s the break up. Because the alternative… it’s…”

“Unfathomable.”

“Yeah. It’s a pain that I can’t imagine, that’s for sure.”

“Lucky you.”

He chuckled slightly. “Nah. Not in the way you think. My own experience is fucked, but in the other direction. He left and never gave a shit.”

“That’s rough.”

“It was, yeah. I guess the small benefit is that I was too young to remember him leaving. So for me, he’s always been gone. Haven’t ever known anything different.”

“See, I’m grateful that I at least have my memories of my dad. Even if he’s been gone longer than I had him. But it’s like a double-edged sword. The memories bring some peace. But it also fuckin’ sucks that they’ll never be anything more than that. That I don’t get new ones.”

“Well, I dunno if talking about him helps you at all. But if you want to, you can.”

“You don’t mind? I don’t wanna bore you, or make you jealous.”

He patted the empty spot on the couch next to him. “C’mon, you asked for my help. Let me help.”

She gave a small laugh before moving to sit next to him. “Remember, you’re not allowed to judge me for being vulnerable.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He listened as stories of her childhood fell from her lips. He offered her up the box of tissues on the coffee table when her words got choked, and would gently prompt her into continuing when she stopped to apologize. He provided her with stories of his own childhood when her own stories grew too painful to share, confiding in her the way she was confiding in him. And when the sun started to cast long shadows across the room, maybe not a lot of work had been done when it came to her song, but Ashton had helped her nonetheless, and both of them felt a little lighter than they had been in a while.

~~~

Help in the form of company was given with much less hesitance after that, with Y/N and Ashton seeking each other out with regularity. Some days would be spent with the two barely exchanging a word as they played out various melodies, or wrote new lyrics. Other days were filled with endless chatter as they shared ideas they had, and provided ideas on how to overcome any blocks in creativity, or just swapped more stories. And other days still, he would help her work on her song.

When Y/N finally finished her song, Ashton was the first person she thought of to share it with, dragging him excitedly into the room with her. “Jesus, this is the happiest I think I’ve ever seen you,” he teased with a giggle.

“Do you wanna hear the song or not?” she asked.

“It’s done?”

“It’s done!”

“Well, hit play! C’mon!”

For three and a half minutes they stood in the middle of the recording room while her song blasted from the speakers. 

“Well?” she asked expectantly when silence overtook them once more. Then, more quizzically, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

He had an amazed smile on his face, dimples cratering his cheeks, and a soft shine in his eyes. “Staring at you like what?” he asked in response.

“Like you wanna… I dunno… kiss me or something…”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Then the soft look was melting away into confusion. “Cuz sometimes I think I want to.”

“And other times?”

“I talk myself down because I’m not sure what I want, or what I feel. We’re both still getting over people who caused us a lot of damage. And I don’t always feel like I’m ready to think about starting a relationship with someone new. But I also know that I’m never going to be ready until I actually start doing it. And I really like the friendship we’ve built the past couple of months. I feel more like me when I’m around you. Like, not only am I no longer drowning, I can actually feel the bottom. But I don’t know if those feelings come from being around someone who can relate to what I’m going through right now, like some weird trauma bond. Or if it’s real “I like you’ feelings. And it’s not fair to you for me to not know.”

She nodded, both understanding what he was saying, and what he wasn’t saying. “What if I kiss you instead?”

“Please, don’t.”

“Because you’re scared we’ll hurt each other? Ash, if we don’t at least try, then we’re never gonna know what’s real and what’s not.”

“It’s partially that. But also… If we end up kissing… I’m not going to want to stop.”

“Then you better not be a lousy kisser.”

~~~

7 Months Later

Ashton got a small flash of deja vu as he saw the black and white composition book lying open, the beginnings of a song scribbled across one of the pages. “Just another hopeless broken heart cliche. And all my fairytale ambitions, I just watched them wash away.”

“Y/N?” he called out, curious to learn where this song was going, and also where his girlfriend could be hiding. “Babe?”

“But it’s too late for sorry baby, even if you’ve changed. I’m not letting myself break down, count me out. Oh, I’m better now,” her voice sang softly as it came down the hallway with her, a black pen twirling between her fingers. She paused as she spotted him standing there with her notebook, a smile lighting up her face. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” he matched her smile, handing her the notebook and pressing a kiss to her head. “That’s nice. Whatever you were just singing. What inspired this one?”

“Just reflecting a bit on this past year,” she told him, as she quickly wrote what she’d been singing in the notebook before the lyrics left her head.

“Feeling a lot better these days, huh?”

“Better than I’ve ever been.”

__

Tag List

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[imaginethathaikyuu]

How did I find your blog? I was looking for soft Kuroo content on google. And your soft birthday hc’s for him came up. And that’s also how I found tumblr

What was the first story of yours that I read? That Kuroo piece ^

Roughly, how long have I been following this blog? Well I found that piece shortly after it was posted so…. Around the beginning of December 2019 I think. Got a tumblr a few months later and you were the first person I followed (had you in my bookmarks bar before that! (still have you in my bookmarks bar and when I share my screen in classes there are occasionally questions. I ignore them))

What’s something I’ve noticed about you personality wise? You’re really clever and funny. But you’re also sweet. But because you’re clever you have no hesitation in setting up and enforcing your boundaries, and I really admire that strength and confidence.

Have we ever interacted, either by PM, ask, or in the comments? What was my perception of you? YES!!! PM, SOOOOO many asks, comments, and you sent me an ask. And reblogged it. And I cried. A lot. My perception: you’re lovely and I want to h*ld your h*nd ….please.

What’s my favorite story of yours? Oh how to choose. Firstly, I’m a nb, biracial, bisexual. Honey, I’ve never made a choice in my life. But let’s try here. Anything you’ve written for Tsukki. Literally all of it is gold. Fight me. I was going to write “especially [piece title]” but I LITERALLY CANNOT CHOOSE ONE. Your Bokuto nightmare piece. Your Kuroo angsty fight. Your Tendou dealing with S/O with parents who yell piece. Your Kinktobers. Your Futakuchi and Mattsun pieces. And your Terushima pieces. Ugh. I CANNOT CHOOSE. OH AND YOUR STREAMER KENMA!!!!!! OKay just… all of it. I can’t choose. I tried, and I failed, and I’m willing to admit failure.

What’s a story I’d love to see you write? I don’t want to say this… because it hurts me… but I just KNOW you’d write brilliant angst. Some of my fav pieces of yours are pained beginnings with happy endings. That fight with Tsukki after a bad day at work. The pieces I mentioned above (nightmare pieces and fighting pieces and angsty home life ha.. ha.ha.ha.). That Oikawa one where the reader wakes up in bed without him and thinks he left. You write these gorgeous atmospheres and descriptive, visceral feelings, and if you chose to use it for evil…. You could get evil shit done. You’re SO powerful. So I want to read it… but also…. I don’t. I’d love to see you write ABO like you mentioned a while back or just see you explore a cutesy soulmate AU or something. I think you’d be really good at writing an AU where you hear what the other person’s listening too. I feel like you’d be so good at making me feel something for someone who was in another city. (think this would be cute with Tsukki cos he’s headphones boy, OR terushima because I like the dynamic of someone flirty, who clearly cares about looks, falling for someone he can’t see) ANYWAY….

Favorite pairing you write for?/fav reader insert? Tsukishima x reader. It’s my fav self-ship. (but also Mattsun, Bokuto, Oikawa, Tanaka, and Akaashi because you write them SO WELL!!!!)

Have any of your stories helped me through a hard time? Of course. Your self-harm piece came at a time I needed it. Iwaizumi’s in particular saved my life. But also your Tendou dealing with S/O parents who fight… came right when I needed it. Also starting college… was hard.. And reading and rereading your fluff really pulled me through it.

Have any of your stories hit closer to home? YES (see above).

Do I genuinely like your blog, it’s aesthetic or posts? It’s overall feel? It’s content? Yes. The aesthetic is, ngl, a wee bit basic. But I kinda love that. And the feel? It feels like home. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Your blog is my safe space. So, yes, I love. It’s content? YES. OF COURSE. Your personality probably could have kept me here even if your content was kinda shit, but I follow you RELIGIOUSLY because of your content. So yes. I adore.

Is English my first language? Kinda??? I grew up in a trilingual household so I kinda learned three languages at the same time while growing up. But no, I don’t need to translate it in my head. Because English was one of the three.

Anything I want to share? Yes. Please keep being kind to yourself, caring for your mental health, enforcing your boundaries, loving Akaashi, and just generally being you. You’re so lovely as you are, and I hope you continue grow, but never change. Also I’m sorry about all your work stuff…. It literally makes me feel sick. And I hope you find a job where that’s not tolerated, or that your work finds a better way of protecting it’s employees. I know you know this, but none of it is your fault. I just hope things improve. AND I love you… a lot. And I’m so proud of you hitting 9K and you deserve so many more followers because your pieces are just... GORGEOUS. I can’t wait until I’m at Barnes and Noble in a few years and I can pick up a hardback copy of your debut novel. I’m so excited to say “I knew Em Akaashi (which is your legal name as far as I’m concerned) before she was so popular among the masses.”

so ive been trying to figure out the correct and worthy way to reply to this ask since the moment i got it......because its so fucking sweet and kind and amazing and pure and perfect and i just dont know how to use WORDS to explain the way it makes me feel so.......i will just reply in bullet points in regards to every question u answered to make it a lil easier :D

- the fact that u found my blog on google ....... like this may be odd and a very specific thing but before i made this blog i always hoped that 1 day my fanfic would pop up in google searches bc thats ALWAYS how i found fics when i was reading them religiously and i felt so much ENVY!!!!! LIKE I WANTED TO BE THERE I WANTED MY FICS TO B POPULAR ENOUGH TO POP UP ON GOOGLE.....that may sound very selfish but its true......so thats just very cool to me... :]

- u’ve been here for so long omg 🥺🥺🥺🥺 if anyone in ur classes ever asks jus promo my blog like its nbd 

- thats so sweet what 🥺🥺🥺 i try my best to advocate for myself and be confident for myself.....ive spent far too much of my time being silently uncomfortable because i was afraid of pushing someone’s buttons seeming rude.....but NO MORE!!!! i know what upsets me, i know my triggers, i know what i dislike experiencing, and im never gonna let myself be anxious or uncomfortable for someone else’s sake, esp if theyre being rude 2 me. i would say its less strength and confidence and moreso me attempting to take control of my anxiety in the places i can (aka on the Internet) bc i am SICK OF ANXIETY ATTACKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

- BBY no dont CRY!!!! im racking my brain trying to think of who u are i wanna know so bad so i can thank u personally for being the kindest person in the world n so i can send u more asks >:(........MY HAND IS URS TO HOLD!!!!! dont tell akaashi tho 

- OMG my TSUKKI pieces.....hes so hard to write why ;-; thank u so much im so glad u enjoy my works<3333

- NOT ANGST NOT LIKE THIS!!!!!!!!! pained beginnings to happy endings are my specialty.....IMAGINE me writing a sad ending like i CANT!!!!!!!!! ive only done it a few times and it is so Difficult.....YALL ARE SO LUCKY IM NOT EVIL!!!!!! ive had this idea for an angsty akaashi fic that i think about and write in my head every night before falling asleep and it Hurts and i wanna write it but i also can’t make myself :D ABO would be very fun but i genuinely do not know how to explore the concept while making it feel like it’s Written By Me.....u know what i mean? same with soulmate aus, i really dislike writing them because theyre just boring to me like they all feel the same everything’s been done for them.....which is FINE!!! but i write enough cliche stuff as it is HAHA, a long distance type soulmate au could be fun and interesting but ldr’s trigger me bc of a past relationship so </3 but hey maybe someone else could use the idea!!!!!

- gotta love tsukishima <3

- im rlly glad my writing could be there for you friend, one of the biggest reasons i write fanfic (and write the kind of fics i write) is bc i know firsthand how much reading sweet stories abt ur comfort characters can help u through the shittiest times - i just wanna offer ppl some support and happy feelings and love cuz sometimes fanfic is the only time we can find those things (and theres nothing shameful abt that either if anyone bullies u for reading fanfic i will fight them)

- I KNOW MY LAYOUT IS LAZY AND BASIC AS FUCK AND THAT IS BECAUSE I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT LMAOOOO so im glad u think its ok...... like i dont have the patience to create a fancy ass layout that actually works are u KIDDING ME??????? I COULD LITERALLY NEVER plus i kinda like that its just the basic kinda ugly boring default layout like it makes it simple and easy and i feel like it brings focus to the only thing on this blog that i care about which is my writing, i rlly only care about the content here and not aesthetics jdbljdabsdk that blue background will be there til i Die......i adore u more btw 

- WHOA trilingual what the hell ur so cool tell me more 

- you have my word, friend, that i will continue to do all of that so long as you do the same. take care of yourself, be kind to yourself - i know u can do it, ur so kind to others and u deserve to be kind to urself, too so this is the part that genuinely brought me to tears because *sappy dumb shit ahead* ok look ever since i can remember the one and only thing ive wanted to do with my life is become an author ...... dreams of book covers with my name written on them and words in pages written by me and fanart of my characters and going into my local bookstore n seeing my book there....these thoughts all haunt my fucking brain because i want it SO BAD!!!!!!!! so bad that it makes me CRY!!!!!!!! ive never wanted something more and just!!!!!!!!!!!! idk how much u meant that part but holy fuck!!!!!! i hope so bad that one day i can send u a free copy of my book as a thank u for being the person u are. u have all my love friend, every last bit of it <333333333

[neohighwayv]

Again and again

Characters: NCT / NCT DREAM Jeno x You

Genre: fluff, romance

Word count: 2.7k

Description: “I think it’s great that you have a great sex life but I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to put a hole in my wall whilst doing it.”

Author’s note: The prompt may look misleading but I promise – there is no smut in this story.

Warnings: Implied suggestive content, mild cursing

-----

I’m going insane. Please SHUT UP!!!

Ripping your headphones out of your ear, you sat up in your bed fast, whipping your head around to glare at the wall behind you. The sudden movement made your vision swim from the sudden rush of blood to your head as you slammed your fists down hard. Your innocent Samoy soft toy by your side took the brunt of your force, his beaded eyes almost falling out from the impact. Snapping your head to your bedside quickly, you found your notebook laying there neatly – the perfect weapon for such a situation. You snatched it up from your bedside before using it to pound at the wall behind you viciously, the spine of the book bending at an extreme angle afterwards, some pages crumpled from your iron grip.

Your neighbour seems to have heard you – for the sound of the bed squeaking stopped momentarily and your walls stop shaking. All was peaceful and silent for a short while, and you breathed a sigh of re–

Only to exhale deeply and sigh again when the screams and moans started to fill your ears, coupled with the familiar sound of the bed squeaking. Your walls began to shake – this time more violently – the tremors of your bed making your stuffed toy fall to the ground.

You slump back down onto your bed in defeat, ruffling your hair as you let out a strangled scream tear your throat.

Making a silent promise to deal with your inconsiderate neighbour tomorrow, you tried to fall back asleep, blasting the music one notch higher in hopes of draining out the noise that didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon.

---

Three short raps on the door.

That was what you did when you went to confront your neighbour, instead of banging down the door and storming in like you envisioned yourself to. The door opened slightly by a crack and you caught a glimpse of blonde hair just before the door swung open fully to reveal the owner of the blonde hair.

The first thing that stood out to you was how pale the young male looked. He had a head of white blonde hair sitting atop of his equally pale face, making him look like Casper the friendly ghost. The wide eyes that stared back at yours initially soon melted into twinkling crescents that regarded you kindly, his pink lips pulling back into a sweet smile that showed off his rows of pearly whites. Now, he looked like a Samoyed, with his white hair serving to enhance the resemblance.

On normal days, you might have stopped to appreciate such a fine young man – but – life had been anything but normal for the past few weeks, especially with the noise level that he was creating at ungodly hours of the night (or day.) Hence, you were not in the mood to ogle at your handsome neighbour, and you simply wanted to tell him off so that he would get the clear hint this time round.

You opened your mouth to say something to the male, but you quickly closed it, gulping thickly afterwards as you were completely unsure of how to put into words what you wanted to say to him. Said male in front of you could clearly see your discomfort from your body language – you were mumming your lips together, your knuckles turning white from your hard grip on your bag strap. Wanting to ease your nervousness, he decided to start the conversation first.

“Hi, is there anything I can help you with…?”

How does one talk about…that…topic to a complete stranger?

You were still angry at him for interrupting your sleep, but the thought of having to breach such an intimate topic to a stranger still was very awkward to you. Your face and neck burst into a bright shade of red as last night’s scene played in your mind, his breathy moans suddenly filling your ears.

Why are you thinking of that Y/N! GET A GRIP!!!

Watching as you engaged in an internal battle with yourself, the male became more worried for you, prompting him to question you once more.

“Miss, are you alright? You look pale, maybe – ”

Hearing his voice snapped you back to your senses and that was when your brain’s word filter suddenly malfunctioned at the critical moment, the words spewing out of your lips before you could hold them back.

“Look here, sir, I’ll get straight to the point. I think it’s great that you’re having a great sex life, but I would appreciate if you wouldn’t put a hole in my wall whilst doing it. While you’re at it, I’d appreciate if you could keep your volume down – or if you can’t – make your room soundproof? Your moans are just keeping me up all night and distracting me from my studies.”

You immediately inhaled deeply once you were done, having made your entire speech in a single breath. You made the mistake of glancing over to the blonde and you jumped back in shock when you saw his facial expression, your hands flying to your chest as you let out a small yelp.

The smiling blonde now looked absolutely petrified – and for a moment – you thought you were staring at a statue. Upon hearing your words, the blonde became frozen stiff, his eyes that were blown wide now stared at you, unmoving, as his pale lips were set in a thin line. Then, the most bizarre thing happened. Starting from the base of his neck, red started to rise up his face, covering every inch of his face. His ears, in particular, appear to be burning red and you had half the mind to actually want to ask him if his ears hurt from – what you assumed – must be searing pain.

However, you didn’t get to ask him your question as both of you turned your attention to the new arrival at the scene, heads snapping to the figure behind him. The new boy regarded both of you from under hooded eyelids, his blonde hair with a strip of blue flopping down like a mop on his head. He wore a pout on his face, his lips looking puffy due to the fact that he looked like he just woke up.

“Jeno-ah, who’s this?”

His question ends with a yawn as he raised his hands above his head to stretch – and that’s when both of you see it.

The action exposed his chest, the top three unbuttoned buttons enhancing the view both you and Jeno had. That’s when you see the evidence of last night’s activities – the purple and blue hickeys littering the expense of his chest, right down to his naval just above the waistband of his pants. Both your eyes grow wide at the sight and everything that happens next happens so quickly that you wonder if the events actually transpired, or it was just a figment of your imagination.

Jeno comes to his sense first, lunging at his friend before slamming the door shut with his foot. From your spot on the opposite side of the wall, you can hear the urgency behind Jeno’s hushed whispers, and the disparate difference in the other’s husky, slow voice.

“Ya Na Jaemin! Why did you come out looking like that!”

“What… it’s no big deal Jeno, you’ve seen me with less articles of clothing before.”

You think you hear Jeno sigh deeply, before the conversation continues again.

“We have a guest Jaemin, in case you didn’t realise.”

“I didn’t know until I came out and saw you by the door, can’t blame me man.”

“Ok that doesn’t matter now, just go change into something more decent or at least button up your shirt next time.”

“Jeno, it is buttoned.”

“Button it up FULLY then. Now go.”

“Awww, sending me away already? But ok I’ll go if you answer my question.”

“Na Jaemin, do not ask – ”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT NOW, GO GET CHANGED!”

You hear Jaemin whine as the sound of his footsteps get further away, before the door is flung open again to reveal a nervous Jeno.

“Hi, I’m terribly sorry about that incident just now. About last night… I’ll… remind him again so… he’ll… keep it down the next time. I’m very sorry about that and I promise it won’t happen again.”

He gives you a bow to convey his sincerest apologies and you hastily mirror it, before the door closes shut in your face again, the sound of running footsteps before a howl of pain travels through the door to reach you.

You stood at your spot unmoving for the next few minutes, trying to process everything that just happened in your mind. After your confused brain was finally able to put together each piece, you quickly slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your loud gasp – for it finally dawned upon you that you had made a grievous mistake.

I just blamed the wrong person.

Fuck.

---

It didn’t help that you kept seeing the blonde around your neighbourhood – Jeno – as you now know him by. It was inevitable considering how both of you lived in the same neighbourhood but you still cursed your terrible luck.

The first time you saw him, you were walking home from the local bread store which was located right beside the gym. Jeno was walking out after having just finished his power lifting session, his head bent down low over his phone screen. You, on the other hand, were counting the change in your hand as you tried to get a proper hold on the bag full of bread. Neither of you were watching where you were going and a collision was inevitable. The impact sent your bread flying along the pavement and Jeno immediately bent down to help you pick it up.

You profusely apologised as the mystery male helped you gather your stray breads, you quickly bending down to aid the process.

“I’m so sorry about that, I should have – ”

“It’s alright, are you hurt?”

Why does this voice sound so familiar…?

Both of you turned to look at the other party right at the right moment and you were sure you must have looked like a fool in front of him because you let out a squeak as your eyes widened to twice their size.

Of all people, why did it have to be you again, you damned Samoyed!!!

Jeno, on the contrary, remained calm as he handed you your bread back, having already put the incident that happened at his doorstep behind him. It was a natural assumption – he had reasoned with himself. He was just extremely understanding by nature – like the angel he was. He gave you a small smile as he handed you the bag with two hands, still awaiting your reply. What he didn’t expect was for you to awkwardly bow slightly after snatching the bag from him before you took down the length of the street, curving sharply to enter the lobby of the apartment.

Jeno watched all of this with a twinkle in his eye, his lips curling up into a playful smirk as he let out a light huff.

She’s adorable when she’s flustered.

That night as you lay down in bed replaying your encounter with Jeno, you slammed your pillow over your face as you tossed and turned in bed, wondering why you always manage to appear so stupid in front of the boy. First, the wrong accusations and second, the bread incident – but perhaps – what you refused to admit was that you were flustered because you thought he looked good in the muscle tee that showed off his well-defined muscles, more so than the fact that you kept embarrassing yourself in front of him.

---

The second time you saw him, it was… agonising… and frustrating. A hand had slipped through the crack of the metallic lift doors, the resulting clang giving you a fright. You press the button to hold the lift open as Jeno squeezes through the slit to stand beside you. You groan inwardly at your horrible luck once more, but you plaster your best customer service smile on your face. You miss it when Jeno smiles to himself as he watches your cute self, his eyes turning into beautiful crescents once again. The typically short elevator ride up to your floor seems excruciatingly slow today, and you tap your fingers against the back of your hand nervously, hoping that the lift would speed up. Meanwhile, Jeno is enjoying every second of this ride, glad that he got to spend some time in your presence. Yet the smile is wiped off his face when the doors open with a ting, the muffled moans of Jaemin reaching his ears. This time, it was Jeno’s turn to glance nervously at you, sure that you had also caught onto the same thing. He had promised you that he would rein in Jaemin, but it was not working out very well. Both of you padded over to your respective doors quietly, and Jeno kept his head down the entire way out of embarrassment. Both of you stalled outside your respective doors, glancing over at each other nervously.

Pointing to his door, Jeno tried to talk, but he ended up stuttering instead.

“I- I- I’m go- go- go- going to ask him to quieten down.”

For the first time, Jeno managed to see a smile on your face and he was absolutely star struck.

“I don’t think you should, lest you want to walk in and see something unpleasant.”

Jeno lets out a nervous chuckle, scratching his nape as he blushed furiously at what you were implying. You gave him a small smile before entering your apartment, leaving Jeno hanging at his doorstop.

Aish this Na Jaemin! Why must he always embarrass me in front of her!

---

The third time you saw Jeno – well – to be exact, it does not count as seeing him coincidentally for he was the one that actively sought you out. Despite the moans still coming from the other side of the wall at 10pm, you heard the unmistakable knock on your door, the heavier sound reaching your ears much better than the moans. A quick peep into the keyhole showed that your mystery visitor was Jeno, and you unlocked the door, wondering what business your neighbour possibly had with you at such an ungodly hour.

“Hi…” – was all Jeno breathed out when he saw you, still not knowing your name having never asked despite the many encounters you had with him.

What an idiot you are Lee Jeno.

You caught on immediately, filling in the details for him.

“Y/N, my name is Y/N.”

“Y/N, hi.”

“Yes…? Is there anything I can help you with…?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to study together? Since… you know…”

He jabbed a thumb in the direction of his home, and your lips form an O in understanding. You stood at your spot for a few moments, contemplating if you should accept the offer from your dashingly handsome neighbour.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to! I just thought that since we both need to study; we could go together… doubt we’ll get anything done with the noise level.”

His eye smile was on display again, and it was hard to say no to the adorable face. Besides, he had a point. Nothing had gone in despite poring over your notes for the past 2 hours, and you were so close to giving up until he knocked on your door.

“Give me 5 minutes, I’ll be right back. There’s a 24-hour café at the neighbouring street, we can head there.”

“O-O- Ok.”

Jeno stammered as you ran back to your room, completely not expecting for you to say yes.

But I don’t mind at all.

---

“This is much better.”

“It is.”

Glancing up from your notes briefly, you caught Jeno’s eyes before flashing him a small smile, one that he reciprocated.

“Hey Y/N…”

“Hmmm?”

“What if we did this more often?”

“Studying together?”, you said, as you pointed to the table.

“Sure, definitely would not mind a study buddy.”

You turned back to face your books, hiding your shy smile between the pages. Jeno, on the other hand, continued to look at you with his twinkling eyes, happy with your response.

If Jaemin’s noise level meant that he could keep seeing you again and again, he’ll gladly let Jaemin keep it up.

[fallingin-like]

november 23

the real folk blues by @annawrites [requested by @allforthebee]

see which other fics i’m reviewing this month! / my review request post!

this absolutely amazing and captivating fic that has the foxes as space bounty hunters and neil who is, as usual, and exceptionally skilled runaway. set away some time to read this fic as soon as possible, because once you start, you won’t be able to put it down until you finish.

this is such an entertaining, fun fic and you did an amazing job at balancing the softer moments with intense, action-packed scenes. at all times i was fully immersed in the story, you handled everything so well. i’m always a fan of your writing, so it’s not a surprised that i had a wonderful experience rereading this.

bits that stood out to me:

”counting stars has become a habit, something to subdue the memories” ah this is really cute and i can totally imagine canon andrew, lying on the roof of some building counting stars instead of trying to sleep

”renee cracks a chicken bone smile in the corner of her mouth” i have never heard this phrase before but i love it!

”there’s a collective intake of breath - andrew, who remembers every single bounty ever placed, can’t remember it ever being this big” for some reason, i love when this kind of thing happens. it feels so cool, knowing someone wants that character that bad and gets me excited for what kind of skills the hunted person has, to be able to evade the people looking for them (reminds me of john wick lol)

”nathaniel wesninski alias neil josten is a hacker, con artist, engineer and pilot” BLESS HIM FOR BEING SO CAPABLE AND SKILLED

matt’s infamous bell peppers and beef with no beef!!! that’s funny and i think about it surprisingly often

”renee pulls up a few more photographs of neil wesninski on the hologram screen. she deals them out like cards until they fan out in a neat timeline of faded hoodies and various iterations of the same polished smile, a mouth sharpened to cutting perfection… the eyes, in contrast, look consistently hunted” holograms and just this space tech is SO cool. i love seeing how the foxes view neil before they meet him. it’s interesting how many sightings they have of him, but also how blank he seems, when we all know that there’s so much personality under that surface

”the ISSP are a bunch of corrupt, incompetent idiots” LOL

”’tone down the optimism, day,’ andrew drawls. ‘we might start overestimating our chances’” agh i love your characterization of all of these characters and this is a great example of why! and i like that you used drawls, it feels very andrew-like

”andrew waggles his fingers lazily in the air” yeah this is andrew

woah i have never seen the art for this fic (i guess because i have the fic downloaded and i just read that version instead of going on ao3, the pictures must not have downloaded) but it’s great!

gasp, i love the idea of the foxes Dressed Up

ALLISON BEING BANNED FROM PLAYING!! “her former alias - lady luck, also known as poker alice” oh this is great. for some reason, them having reputations like this really excites me

”it’s in my blind spot” ANDREW this is so funny

ahhhh i can’t believE you added the “better luck next time” line in!!

okay so the whole action part of this scene is so intense, love andrew throwing the poker chip as a diversion, and neil pretending to give up for a moment before ACTIVATING HIS ARMED SHIP AND SHOOTING EVERYONE. ugh, hearing about neil being so good at what he does (steering, hacking, while taking off his jacket) makes me love this scene so much

”vowels rolling like a pair of dice” this is so good on its own, but paired with the casino scene that precedes it? stunning

”kevin values his ship, and his life, in that order.” i can imagine. i wonder, is there competitive racing in this au? i can imagine kevin being obsessed with that

thank goodness riko is dead, one less thing (on a list of many things) to worry about. whoop and i see that easthaven has passed, good.

KEVIN DAY WITH A METAL ARM AND A TRANSMITTER PLATE THAT COVERS HIS TATTOO YEAH

oh dang limb regrowth tech in this au? wild

”’minyard and the monster, how lovely to see you again.’ neil greets him through the once more hijacked comm. they’ve been playing this game for weeks now, racing each other across the milky way like starved lovers. even allison is starting to run out of lewd jokes” i find it so interesting hearing about this relationship that’s being built between them even though they basically never meet in person, the joking from neil’s side

these hints of andrew’s eye mods are really great, i definitely didn’t notice them as much as i should have when i first read this fic, but every time after that, i appreciate little details like these more and more

RENEE WITH A KATANA YES PLEASE

”andrew shakes off the last dregs of sunday sleepiness that cling to his lips like the skin on warm milk. neil wesninski might have become a game by now, but the malcolms still mean business” ohhh boy, even knowing what comes next i get nervous hearing this. i love the contrast between the softness of what sundays mean with the conflict to come, especially when you jump right into the action

”renee pants, her voice cool and slippery like broken tiles amid the crackle of static” oh i love this description

LOL i can’t believe that andrew got matt’s dessert rations and gets to invite neil to be a part of their crew

”missions are slow and neil’s face keeps showing up on big shot, though not for lack of people trying to hunt him down.” i don’t know why but i really like this!! you go, neil!

oh oh thank you so much for the way that you describe neil alone on his ship, his hoodies, gloves, “one sad-looking sock”, “the one sock he’s wearing has holes”, talking to himself, “yet he’s still inexplicably trying to shield his robots from andrew’s gun” so cute!

”eyes like the gleaming insides of a wire in the dark” this!!!!

the! cats! neil made his robots cats!!

NEIL HACKING INTO THEIR COMMS I LOVE HIM

”neil is like a live fish under his hands, constantly wriggling and sliding out of his grip, fingers twitching back toward his abandoned project like flies caught in a spiderweb” ahh squirmy neil is super cute, “neil shivers under the touch like he’s not used to being touched at all” this doesn’t surprise me. even if i didn’t have an idea of what his childhood might have been like (with mary and nathan, i imagine there was not very much affection), he’s probably been alone for so long, when would the last time someone would have touched him? i don’t think i would be able to handle it

ahh barefoot neil is always cute

SCARS no matter how many fics i read, i always love moments when neil’s scars are revealed

NEIL RUNNING LAPS IN HIS TINY SHORTS AROUND AND AROUND AHH

”neil slinks into the room late, looking tousled and a little sticky around the edges like he’s just woken up from a nap. he freezes when he sees andrew, stuck standing right in the middle of the projection, and only moves when dan throws a cushion at him” your writing actually paints scenes in my head which for me, a person really bad at visualizing things, is really impressive. it makes the experiences of reading exponentially more interesting, and doesn’t happen that often.

renee as praying mantis!! what a perfect nickname. is she religious in this au as well? i can’t remember if any religions even exist in this au (whoops i know nothing about cowboy bebop)

”she looks stiff and faded like old newspaper in the light of the kitchen lamps” what a gem of a sentence

me: sees the nickname gorilla and gets excited because i know some action is going to go down

”the three of them would just  about reach his head if renee sat on andrew’s shoulders and lifted neil up” THIS IS AMAZING. i mean, andrew and neil are tiny but they are not that tiny

”andrew begins tonelessly, tracing patterns into neil’s skin” if we ignore the fact that andrew is telling a terrible terrible story, this is so soft

”his breathing is viscous now, like syrup in his lungs. his left eye aches and the corner of his mouth twitches painfully into the ghost of a manic grin. he bites his tongue and it tastes like the word please” i am speechless but i really wanted to acknowledge this sentences lakjsdf

NEIL WINNING THE BET ABOUT BEING ABLE TO STEAL THINGS FROM THE VENDOR AND ROBBING THE MAN JUST ABOUT EVERYTHING. uGH you do such a good job of integrating humour like this into your story and having it fit the tone and pacing of the fic effortlessly.

excuse me how is it possible that you followed such a lighthearted scene with something so devastating as andrew explaining his past to allison and neil and have it still flow??? “because… i did not mean for you to get hurt” ANDREW YOU’RE SO GOOD

”he’s smoking outside and watching the dusk unfurl like an exotic flower when there’s a crash inside the store” this description is so gorgeous

what in the world, andrew i don’t even know how to describe you. he really just helps catch the robbers with his headphones on while choosing things to buy, killing a dude, then checking out, no big deal???? i understand neil’s attraction to him a little bit more now…

andrew and renee sharing clothes is now canon, please and thank you

oh no, lola is Bad News, especially when it comes to threatening neil’s family

NEIL PACKING ANDREW’S LEATHER JACKET AHH

”the bebop crew are basically overgrown children and react very well to the little sugary rewards for good behaviour” yeah this is very true haha

”’your blatant flirting woke me up,’ matt grins weakly. ‘can i have a lollipop too, neil?” i remember this whole scene so well, the second the infirmary was mentioned i knew it was lollipop time. matt, is basically how i feel right now HAH

woah wymack taking care of bonsai trees? i didn’t know i needed that in my life so badly. just like neil and the twins, so tiny :’)

uhm so, the tape that nicky sent to andrew? it’s actually making me cry (which is super rare for fics) “i hope you know that i love you”, “things aren’t so easy at the moment, and maybe they still aren’t easy for you watching this ten years from now, but i’ll always be there for you, and for aaron, too. i hope that one day we can be a family. happy birthday, my little piyoko, don’t eat all the cake by yourself!” i love this so much, and it makes me so sad and happy. this nicky is so good, and as much as i think andrew needed to see this, i think that i needed to read this more. thank you

nicky calling the twins his little piyokos, his lucky birds ;-;

the reunion scenes are so good, i really don’t think i can write anything that sufficiently describes how i feel. the way that nicky acts, the new relatives, older aaron, it all feels so right, so real.

andrea minyard deserves her own bullet point

neil just goes and makes all the police ships crash by controlling them remotely just for andrew to be hit by a moon rock?!?!?

”something irritatingly warm rises and swells inside andrew like yeast dough and he plunges his fists into it and kneads it into submission, twists it until all that remains is sticky, frothy anger” and “andrew sits down on a crate and prods at the yeasty mass still fermenting in his insides. the sudden bloating of anger has subsided to the usual starchy nothingness, but there’s a sugary residue of unease that he doesn’t want to examine any further right now” as much as i adore your jokes and beautiful descriptions of scenes, sentences like these ones that blow me away completely are why you’re one of my favourite fanfic authors. these are the kinds of sentences that i carry with me even after i am finished reading

”i can’t decide if you two are more like toddlers or like an old married couple… either way, it’s really bizarre to see andrew having feelings other than hate and destruction” LOL

thea is the coolest person ever

”kevin makes a noise like a dying dog” me too, kevin

NONONONONO ICHIROU AND JEAN AND EASTHAVEN

thank goodness neil is here

apparently i am very fond of the words “juice pack” and think it is cute. why? i also do not know

huh, riko naming his identity kevin king?? feels… not good

oh boy, lola is back

ANDREW CAN PICK OPEN HIS HANDCUFFS THANK YOU FOR THIS

is it bad if i am happy that all these people are dying (proust, lola, etc.)

NEIL AMPUTATES NATHAN’S HAND WITH A CLEAVER WHILE HE’S HOLDING A CLEAVER AND THEN KILLS HIM LDKSJFLK

oh dang, it’s stuart (i trust him)

andrew’s eye! thank goodness, because although it kind of sucks, it also Really Does Not Suck

”it’s stiff and awkward and neil quickly wriggles out of it. kevin must be really shaken up, because he tries andrew next. andrew waits passively until he’s close and then steps to the side at the last moment, smothering his amusement in a cough when kevin walks straight into the wall with open arms. serves him right for thinking even for a second that andrew would let him” LOL i love you, anna, so so much

money!! woohoooooo (or should i say woolonghooo okay sorry that’s like the world’s worst pun)

BELL PEPPERS AND BEEF WITH ACTUAL BEEF AND NO PEPPERS YES! what a great way to bring things full circle, even though it’s small

sweet dumplings filled with fruit? i am intrigued

THE SHIRT

i can’t not acknowledge the bit with the key, neil is too clever for his own good

we finally get to see bee! ugh i love the relationship between bee and andrew

”they may be marks of destruction, but they are still andrew’s; still proof of his existence” yeah (like a good yeah)

interesting about andrew’s memory not being as good without his left eye. does he have eidetic memory in this au? maybe it’s better if he doesn’t

i remember the first time i read this fic, in startling detail. this fic was so good then, and it has been just as good, if not better, every time i have reread it

it’s kind of embarrassing, but one of the things that i remember distinctly (among a lot of other things) is the noodles! reading this fic never fails to make me want to eat instant noodles

so one thing about me is that i am actually really bad at visualizing things. when i read stories, i can never imagine what a character looks like, i just see the feature that is being highlighted at the moment, and the second that sentence ends, that image is gone. like i just have a magnifying glass to someone’s face but i can’t piece together the parts. it makes it so that i often struggle with the visualization of stories. but something about your writing makes it easy for me to pictures scenes happening. everything is so vivid, and real (hence, the instant noodle cravings lol) and i love that so much. it’s so special.

the flow of this fic is amazing, the characterization is incredibly authentic and really helps with carrying the plot. you integrated lighthearted scenes with pure angst and awful things (easthaven) and i’m honestly curious as to the cowboy bebop episodes you took inspiration from. this fic was so well written, you are so skilled at introducing characters, locations, plot points, although i’m not familiar with this universe i wasn’t confused at any point. you explained everything without me noticing. this was just a breathtaking fic. thank you so much for writing this!!

[imgilmoregirl]

The Bookshop Owner

AO3 Link - FF.Net Link

This chapter was revised by my amazing beta @ethereal-wishes.

When Neal and Gideon arrived, the house was drawn in silence, all the lights turned off. The brother's tiptoed inside.  Neal went straight to his room, and Gideon stopped at Belle's door first. He opened it slowly, as not to wake his mother, but found it empty.

Looking up at the staircase that led to Gold's room, he knew that he would certainly find his mother inside there and sighed, closing the door and making his way to his own bedroom. This was bad, he thought, really, really bad and that was what he had been fearing this whole time. But if he kept his mind working, he wouldn't even be able to close his eyes that night, so he pulled on his pajamas, reached for his headphones, and put on some loud music that would distract him from thinking about the disaster they were heading into.

Belle hadn't  had such a great night of sleep since before Gideon was born, but exhausted as she was after their late-night activities, she passed out in Gold's arms and only awoke when the sun had already rose.  She yawned, stretching a little before looking up at Adam, smiling at how gorgeous he looked that way, with his long hair a bit mused, and the soft skin of his chest exposed for her to dust the tip of her finger over it.

"Hey you," she said in a sleepy voice. "How long have you been staring at me?"

"Not long," Gold confessed with a smirk, brushing his fingers  down her bare arm. "I just wanted to be sure that this is not a dream."

Smiling lazily at him, Belle propped herself up on her elbow, reaching over to kiss his lips, running her hand through his hair. She was still feeling a little overwhelmed from being his once again, and every moment of the night prior had been so incredibly blissful, that she wished she could repeat it all over again - from the laughs they had shared, to the insecurities and the passion that had taken them.  It was perfect in its own imperfect way and that was what made the moment even more special.

"If last night was a dream, then I want to stay asleep forever," she whimpered against his lips.

He touched her brow tenderly, lost in her blue depths. "I'm not sure if I said it when I should, but I love you, Belle. I have never stopped loving you."

"Neither have I," Belle muttered back, “this weekend has been  perfect, but you still owe me two things.”

“And what is it?”

“First, you need to pull on those clothes I got for you,” she said with a smirk, already imagining dragging him around the beach in jeans and that black Hawaiian shirt. It would be delightful and hilarious at the same time, and she would have enough reasons to feel joyful for next few months. “Second, you just have to tell me why you looked so bored on the roller coaster."

Adam rolled his eyes. “I didn’t look bored.”

“You didn't  even scream!" Belle exclaimed.

“There was no need for screaming, sweetheart,” he assured her. “And if you want to know about somebody’s problem, you should have asked the kids on the kart behind us.”

At this remembrance, Belle bursted into laughter hiding her face in his chest. After she and Gold had settled themselves on the kart, a bunch of teenagers had entered the rollercoaster, speaking and guffawing out loud as they took the seats behind them. It was an eight-people group, all together, happy and carefree, almost inspiring with such a cheeriness they emanated, but then the song started, an old one from a well-known movie, being repeated over and over again as the rollercoaster made its course, stopping only when the kids had to scream with the speed of the karts, specially at the loop.

Gideon had turned around once or twice with a confused and annoyed look that mirrored perfectly his father’s expression, and Belle decided that her boys were definitely two grumps.

“Oh, they were having such a fun,” she contemplated, looking up at him.

His eyebrows narrowed and he whined as if he was a child: “They were singing the whole damn way!”

“You were a teenager once,” Belle remarked.

“Yeah, but I  would have never done such a thing," he scoffed.

And given the fact that he had sat still by her side during the entire course of the rollercoaster, she couldn’t say that she didn’t believe him. Belle had been looking forward to the moment he was going to give in and scream like she and the others had done, but the only thing that showed that Gold had in fact felt any adrenaline was the way he gripped tightly at the security bar in front of them.

“Keep talking like that, but I’ll find your weakness,” she promised. “There must be something in this world that makes Adam Gold lose his nerve.”

“Good luck trying to find it,” he shrugged with a smug smile appearing on his lips.

“I will.”

Palming her cheek, Gold leaned in to brush his lips against hers, softly at first, but then so voracious that she thought they might repeat the events from the previous night, but he pulled away before it could go any further.  Adam looked gorgeous and breathless, and she wanted him with every fiber of her being, but he muttered: "I think I may take a bath."

"Go on,” Belle said, knowing that it was for the best, as the boys were probably home by now. “I'll dress and go back to my room to do the same in five minutes."

He nodded, slipping out of the bed to go to the en-suite bathroom. Belle watched him until he disappeared inside, and she sighed, snuggling against his pillow, smelling the remnants of his cologne on it, her eyes closing as she was still a little tired, and before she knew it, she'd fallen back asleep.

Her nap probably would have lasted until Gold finished his shower and had dressed himself, but his phone started to ring on the nightstand and it woke her up, making Belle reach for it by the moment the call ended. The name glowing on the screen said that he had a missed call from someone named Cora. She was about to put it back on the nightstand and start to look for her clothes on the floor when a message came up and, she accidentally clicked to open it, gasping at the contents of it. All the insinuations, and descriptions making her heart race with sadness.

"Adam?" She called, and he opened the bathroom door, wearing only a pair of trousers. Belle lifted the phone to him, sitting on the bed, gripping the covers tightly around her body. "Who is Cora?"

"Oh, damn it," he cursed, taking the phone from her hands.

Tears came to Belle’s eyes as she muttered: "You have someone."

"No, sweetheart,” Adam began. “I can explain."

But she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear, so Belle pushed the covers away and gathered her clothes from the floor, dressing herself as quickly as possible.

"That you planned on using me for the weekend then go back to your - " she couldn't even find a word to categorize that woman.  She had no idea what she was to Gold, only knew that she was a disgusting person for the disgusting words she had written on that message, "Cora in Scotland?"

"Belle, you misunderstood everything!"

"Have I?” She asked bitterly, feeling the tears fall from her eyes as she closed her dress’ side zipper. “Because her message was pretty explicit."

"Sweetheart, please - " Adam begged.

She blinked, trying to see behind the blurry of  tears in her eyes, but everything she could think about was that she had been fooled and her heart was being shattered into tiny pieces inside her chest now, because she had been stupid enough to give herself to him so easily. What was she thinking? How was she able to be so careless?

"I'm taking the train and going back to London with my son," Belle announced before opening the door and leaving the room.

Walking downstairs in the direction of her room, Belle ran into Gideon, stumbling with her son and almost making both of them fall to the floor, but the boy kept his balance and held her. Neal was right behind him and looked at them with wide eyes.

"Mama?" He asked. "Mama, what happened?"

Biting at her lip, she found herself unable to explain, all she could do was to mumble a command. "Pack your things, I'll only take a bath and then we'll be on our way."

Gold appeared in the hallway barefoot, cane in hand and a half-buttoned shirt tucked into his trousers. He looked desperate, but Gideon didn't want to know how he was feeling at that moment, everything that mattered to him was the fact that because of him, his mother was crying.

"What have you done to her?" He demanded.

"Nothing!" Gold hurried to speak. "Please, let me explain!"

"Oh, pop, what did you say?" Neal questioned.

The elder brother  couldn’t begin to imagine what his father had done to ruin everything he had been working for, but by the expression on Belle’s face, he bet it was pretty bad. Neal didn’t understand what was the problem with the universe that kept his father from being happy, but he knew that didn’t cooperate to make things better himself.

"It wasn't me,” Adam said, full of despair, lifting his old phone for his boy to see, “just a message from Cora."

"Cora?" Neal repeated harshly, as if the name left a bad taste in his mouth, because he knew that despicable woman pretty well, and he was sure that everything that came from her could only be a wicked plot to make his father’s life worse. "Hey, Belle look at me. Cora is his freaking evil partner at the law firm. Whatever she said in that message it is not true. She is angry with my father, because he rejected her."

"Is that true?" She asked in a broken voice.

Gideon was looking at Neal, like his glance had the power of setting him on fire, but at the moment, he didn’t care about what his younger brother thought about his intentions. It had become very obvious  last night when they arrived at the house, that Gold and Belle were sharing a bedroom, and he had internally celebrated the fact that it might be actually working, and there might still be a chance for the two of them after all. His father had sacrificed many years of his life for him, and now Neal was waiting for him to achieve some happiness.

"Aye," Adam agreed, taking a step in her direction, placing  his hands on her shoulders. "Belle, I can take you to Glasgow today if you want to. I can introduce you to everyone I know. I can take you to my office and reassure you  that there is nothing between this woman and I."

"I'm sorry,” Belle whispered, wiping her tears. “I - I guess I'm just afraid that you'll leave again."

"If I do, you'll be by my side." he reassured her, wrapping her in a tight hug.

Belle sobbed and threw her arms around his neck, making Gold lean against the wall to keep himself upright as he let his cane clatter to the floor to hug Belle tightly, bending to capture her lips in a heartfelt kiss.

"I'm a genius!" Neal gasped, attempting to fish his phone from his pocket. "I need to tell Emma."

"This is gross," Gideon complained with a grimace, looking away from his parents and breathing in, knowing that from now on he would have to accept the fact that his mother was dating his father. There was nothing in the word that could sound creepier or make him more uncomfortable, but he turned to face his half-brother with a small grin on his lips. "But well, good work Annie, your plan was a success. Now if he breaks my mother's heart, I'll break your face."

"Why so violent? And I'm Hallie, by the way, you're the Londoner one."

Rolling his eyes, Gideon moved in the staircase’s direction, grumbling: "I'm getting out of here before they do something that I cannot unsee."

[londontheatre]

Celebration, Florida

When an email came around asking if anyone fancied going along to see Celebration, Florida the new performance offering from Greg Wohead, I jumped at the opportunity. You may recall an earlier review of mine for his The Ted Bundy Project. I’ve also seen other pieces of his work at The Ovalhouse Theatre and find the work of this artist really exciting. The Albany Theatre with support from The Yard commissioned this piece.

Unlike the rest of Wohead’s work, he isn’t actually performing in this piece – well, not in his physical form on the stage in front of us anyway. The premise is simple, in each performance of Celebration, Florida the piece is performed by two people. Neither of the two performers will have rehearsed anything and they will not know what will happen in the show. As an audience, we are asked to trust them and to be kind!

Celebration, Florida has been performed by male and female, old and young alike. Each performer adding a different dynamic to the production. For the show I attended last night at the Albany I saw Katherine Hollinson and Gloria Sanders. Tonight (2nd March) I understand that there will be two men, Leo Kay and Bob Karper. There were also performers in the audience who had previously “played” these roles.

As a piece of experimental performance art, the show is arguably not for everyone and could be labelled as inaccessible and potentially elitist in the same way that high-end opera is not everyone’s cup of tea and, is not easily accessible, especially when in a language that you don’t speak. For me, performance art is a pure joy. I studied the greats; The Wooster Group, Forced Entertainment, and many more at University so watching the work of this artist is a particular pleasure of mine.

The piece runs for about 60 minutes and everything you read on the screen and/or hear via a microphone is Greg Wohead. Greg Wohead sharing his story of loneliness, being alone, surrogacy and forced community. His words are crafted to give the audience access to Greg’s inner thoughts and external surroundings. Greg’s words are deliberately descriptive. He wants us to see what he sees – literally!

For me, I felt the piece is designed to question our own habits to combat loneliness. As an audience, we question our own coping mechanisms, our own ways of being alone in an unknown place. Also our use of surrogates and the way we relate to others.

The performers are fed their “script” and “physical directions” via headphones. They do not know what they are going to be asked to do ahead of time. As their script is revealed to them so they reveal it to us. They are guided by Wohead as to what to say and do.

As an audience, we can’t hear Greg’s voice, although we understand that the performers are delivering what they hear as verbatim. We get a sense that what he is asking them to do – be it to roar loudly like a bear, or to stand and smile openly at the audience, or to dance like a crazy person as if no one is watching them. However, we don’t know this for sure. We trust that these performers are delivering Greg’s words and actions to us. Knowing that the performers we are watching are learning their script moments before we are is a really interesting sensation and one that I really enjoyed unfolding in front of me.

The “action” of the piece takes place in a hotel room, outside of a town called Celebration. A constructed town developed by The Walt Disney Company. The company has been “designed to be a controlled manicured embodiment of the perfect American Town”. If you ask me, it is quite a scary town and thoughts of inhabitants embodying Stepford Wives in a Trump Controlled “Disneyfied” America come to mind. I’ll just leave that image in your head.

Greg is in a hotel room. Greg is alone in a hotel room. Greg is alone in an unfamiliar town in an unfamiliar hotel room, yet Greg feels strangely comfortable in his surroundings. If you are familiar with the musings of Seneca and Auge and the comfort of a “non-place” or “non-space”, it puts Greg’s feelings into perfect context. These philosophers feel that places such as motorway service stations, airports, coffee shop franchises and chain restaurants are non-places. No matter where in the world you are, a McDonalds will offer a Big Mac, and you can always get a Flat White in a Starbucks whether you are in London, Texas or the Ukraine. The concept of a non-place is an interesting concept. False familiarity. Surrogacy, forced relaxation all come to mind.

As with other works I’ve seen by Wohead, the use of music and sound effects are hugely important to the performance. In this show, we are treated to various versions of Stand by Me. The echo of wanting to not be alone emanating from the soundtrack as well as Greg’s words.

I really enjoyed the show, I enjoyed Greg’s journey and the echoes of mine and my friend’s lives. That is using “meet up apps” drinking alone, exercising, visiting a non-place opposed to an unknown eatery, attacking the mini-bar and reaching out to strangers are all activities used to feel less alone and more connected to the world that surrounds us.

If you’re a fan of performance art, like conceptual performance and are prepared to put some work in yourself, then this show is really a treat. Highly recommended.

Review by Faye Stockley

Celebration, Florida is a show performed by two new unrehearsed performers each time it takes place. They will know almost nothing about the show before walking onstage and they won’t know each other, but rather they will meet for the first time ever in front of the audience. As the show unfolds, the performers will be guided by the artist, Greg Wohead, via headphones and a pre-recorded audio track to speak, move and perform tasks live in the moment. Past performers have included Jamie Wood, Vera Chok and Valentijn Dhaenens.

The show that unfolds is a meditation on longing, imagination and missed connections that vacillates between playful and dark, surreal and literal as Greg uses the performers as surrogates through which to communicate with the audience.

The show takes its title from a town developed by the Walt Disney Company, designed to be a controlled, manicured embodiment of the perfect American town. It is both a real town and a simulation of a town; as such the piece speaks to the relationship between a hollow capitalistic society and a lack of connection, where we might reach for surrogates or stand ins to fulfill our emotional needs.

Performed at The Albany, London Douglas Way, London SE8 4AG, UK

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