#it was SO hard to learn but i was really good with footwork routines from sports so there was that at least

[alluralater]

okay i just had the most insane flashback to when i was 14. i had saved money for three months mowing lawns and babysitting and bought these light up sneakers to impress this girl i had a crush on because she was into the light up shoe dancing. big reveal- i did in fact learn to do all the dances and we went out for like 4 months. tragic ending- i stepped in a puddle of water and my shit broke

[sabraeal]

Born to Make History

A prequel to this prompt from an earlier collection! The short program I reference here it based very heavily off of Nathan Chen’s 2021 short program which you can find here

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2021 Figure Skating AU

“I hope you weren’t expecting me to go easy on you this morning.” Garrack’s voice booms across the ice, loud enough that a few other skaters slow, craning their necks to see who the fabled Coach Gazelt would chew out next. “Your work is just beginning if you want to call this a comeback.”

A groan rumbles in the back of her throat, dying to be let out, but it’s impossible to miss the small figure sweeping the eyes, dark hair curling over his eyes. Ryuu’s here already, picking at some footwork-- his transitions are his weakest element if his scores are anything to go by, but he’s determined to make it his best. Shirayuki breathes in, six counts in and eight counts out, and lets her protest die on her tongue.

Shirayuki slides out, stomping her skates beneath her to get feeling back in her legs. “I know you better than that.”

Her muscles ache as she eases into a lap, letting the ice settle beneath her. When she was small, she could blast out into the rink like a cannon ball, running across it like it was just another bit of ground beneath her feet. But she left it, and silly as it sounds, the ice hasn’t forgiven her. Her blades don’t tremble like the used to, but a few days off the ice-- especially folded up on an Transatlantic flight-- leaves her with a drunken lurch, the whole world passing by too fast.

But it’s quick to even out, her body warming to the chill of the rink, to the way her legs have to bend to keep her moving. After a lap or two, control is easy as breathing, as easy as swimming to a fish. The ice may not have forgiven her, but it’s missed her too.

She glides to a stop right at Garrack’s toes, sending up a little spray. It earns her a smile, tight-lipped but approving. She’ll earn teeth once she gives it a medal to sink in to. “I think if you let up on me for a moment, I’d have to take you to a hospital.”

Her coach barks out a laugh, blonde hair ruffling out like a halo from her bun. “Oh, Shirayuki. You say the sweetest things.”

It might be cold in the rink, but it doesn’t do anything but make her cheeks burn hotter. She forgets, but these Americans-- they don’t really take ‘hard ass’ as a compliment.

Well, most wouldn’t. Garrack looks quite pleased, though.

“Aw, coach.” Hands catch at her shoulders, and she knows them even before a sandy head peeps over them. “Can’t you give her one easy day? She’s finally made senior!”

“Oh, Higata, really, there’s no need--”

“Sure.” Garrack bares her all her teeth in a smile Shirayuki’s willing to bet has been the last earthly sight of some of her students. “But if I give her a pass, you boys will have to pick up the slack.”

Already, Higata’s hands loosen their grip. “N-now, I didn’t say--”

It’s far, far too late for him to quibble over exactly what was and wasn’t said on the ice. “What do you think? Balance drills? Or we can see how far you’ve come with your flexibility for spins.” Garrack tilts back her head, giving him a speculative look. “Maybe even run through her routine once...?”

“Ah, Shirayuki!” He gives her a firm pat on the back, sliding away. “I did what I could! Viel Glück!”

Garrack watches him skate off with a satisfied grin lingering on her lips. “Nice boy, that Higata. Thick as a hockey puck, but nice.”

Shirayuki knows better than to posit her own opinion when Garrack’s in a punchy mood. “The usual warm up, then?”

Garrack levels her with another of her measuring glances. It’s the sort that could bring grown men to their knees-- she saw it happen once, outside of a rink in Wisconsin-- but Shirayuki is used to it now. Assessment is a tool, and Garrack Gazelt has made her career by being good at it.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” she asks instead. “You only got off a plane yesterday. That time change is easier the other way.”

She nods. “Really, I’m fine.”

Garrack sits back in her hips, one arm tucked under the other, and takes a long, thoughtful drag out of her thermos. Shirayuki shifts on her skates, trying to look-- awake. Ready to seize the day.

I’ll push you. Garrack had made no bones about that during their first lunch in Strasburg. She’d given her a similar look then too, assessing, trying to see that promising junior skater in a university student’s body. But you’re a professional. You say stop, we stop. You say go, we push on. You’re at the wheel for this one. I’m just your emergency brake.

“All right,” she sighs. “Keep it simple, though. Think easy, for once.”

“I said I was--”

Garrack flaps a gloved hand. “It’s not about you. I took a look at the books this morning, and Haruka’s right after us.”

Shirayuki blinks. Strange, he usually grabs the first slot. “Are you avoiding him?”

“Me?” She presses her thermos to her chest, scandalized. As if she and Haruka don’t skulk about the rink when they see each other, hissing like cats when necessity forced them onto the same practice time. “I don’t avoid anyone.”

A dubious hum goads her to tepidly add, “No more than he deserves.”

Shirayuki folds her arms across her chest.

“No more than usual,” Garrack promises. “But that’s not why we’re going to get off the ice.”

She lifts a brow. “And why is that?”

If Garrack weren’t in skates herself, she’d be bouncing on her toes. “I want to be in the seats when he sends his students out.”

Shirayuki’s mouth pulls thin. “The season just ended, and already you’re trying to--?”

“No, no. I’m not looking to poach, and I don’t care what routines he’s working on for next season.” She huffs, hair fluffing out in agitation. “And his aren’t better than mine anyway, he just has top tier skaters because him and Haruto like to rub--”

A polite cough breaks her concentration, enough for Shirayuki to sneak in, “Then what exactly do you need to see?”

Garrack’s mouth curls into a smile Zen has, on more than one occasion, called grinch-like. She leans in, voice dropping to a whisper, and says, “Haruka’s putting someone new on the ice.”

“A new student?’ Zen sputters, skates limp in his hands. “Haruka never said he was taking on a new student.”

“They aren’t on the roster.” Shirayuki’s shoulders hunch around her ears, as if that might keep her words between them. “And the other coaches don’t know anything either.”

Zen settles back against the bench. “We just got back from Worlds three days ago. How could he possibly have someone new that quickly?”

“Maybe it’s someone who just promoted from juniors.” She should be excited; a new student with that level of ability would be someone to watch, to learn from. But instead anxiety twists in her gut, a snake that slithers itself into tighter and tighter knots. “I saw your program, by the way. You did well.”

“I got fourth,” Zen grumbles, sliding his foot into a skate. “No wonder he already scouted a replacement.”

“Haruka would never replace you, and certainly not because you were a jump shy of bronze.” Or silver, which if he’d skated clean, he would have earned in spades. “Kiki placed second. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s jumped to a coach with someone on the podium when they started competing at the senior level.”

“Sure,” he grumbles, “but usually it takes long than--”

“What are you two talking about over here?” Kiki drops her duffel unceremoniously between them, the bench warbling beneath it. “Gossiping, I hope?”

“Just our progress at Worlds,” Zen lies smoothly, sending her a secretive wink. She’s not sure why-- Haruka’s always favored Kiki; if anyone knew anything about this mystery student, it would be her. “Shirayuki was just saying how impressive it is to get so close to the podium, but I said--”

“Right.” Kiki casts her gaze over the ice; a few weeks ago there would have been nothing to that, just a casual glance, but Shirayuki knows her better now, enough to see the hopeful perk of her chin and the inquiring lift of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. She’s looking for someone; even when her gaze swings back to Shirayuki, she knows it’s not about her. “What were you two talking about?”

Zen squawks. “I said--”

“I know.” Her voice is even, logical. “But Shirayuki can’t lie.”

Shirayuki wants to protest-- she can, really, she’s done it before-- but takes one look at her and blurts out, “Haruka has a new student.”

Her skates clatter to the floor. “What was that?”

“Well,” Zen murmurs, mouth twitching. “I guess somebody isn’t the favorite after all.”

Garrack may be content to sit in the seats as Zen and Kiki take the ice, but Shirayuki leans on the barrier, letting the chill brush over her face. At this level, they’ve all been skating since they were old enough to fall and get back up. But unlike her, Zen and Kiki have never stopped, and the gap in skill has never been more apparent than now. They take to the rink like birds to air, winding around each other in complex circuits, slapping hands and turning circles around each other.

That’s the other thing: they’ve always had each other. Kiki’s hardly twenty, but there’s already rumors of Milan being her last Olympics, of what she might do once she’s over the hill-- and the first word on anyone’s lips is pairs. The second and third are Zen Wisteria, since there’s not a person alive who can imagine a competition without either of them on the ice.

Her fingers grip the rail’s rubber rim hard enough to leave crescents. They’d look good together-- they do look good together. It makes sense to go that route if Zen picks up a gold. It’s what his father did, years ago. For his mother.

The gate swings open, and they both glide to a stop. But then, to be fair, so does most of the rink.

There is no official size for a skater-- not like gymnastics, where smaller equals better and taller equals a very gentle nudge toward ballet-- but still, there is a trend to fall on the shorter size of average, at least in singles. Height might give more control on the ice, might give an extra spin or two, but when it came to jumps, the less bulk heaved from the ice the better. But Haruka’s student--

Well, he’s certainly not Mitsuhide’s height, but even with his slouch he’s taller than most men here. In his skates, he even looks down at Haruka-- though it’s not much of a feat; the man never comes onto the ice, just stands behind the barrier to shout his way through practice. Not that he needs to raise his voice to make his displeasure known; a single frown usually sends Zen and Kiki gliding back to him, heads bowed.

He’s outright glowering now, but his new student only rubs at his hair, a half-gloved hand riffling through black bristle. There’s something about him, something about the way he moves that seems familiar, if only she could catch his face--

But then the thrum of a guitar rolls over the ice, tinny on the rink’s speakers-- Zen’s song, his short program. The one that fell just short of the podium, because he put a hand down after a jump got away from him. Haruka’s student turns around, and even from where she stands, she recognizes the grin.

Oh no. No.

It should be Zen at the center of the ice, but this guy pushes out instead. His black clothes making him a stark contrast to the ice, to the barriers around him. Zen’s already halfway to the center, confused and a bit agitated, looking like he’s about to have words-- and then Haruka’s student glides out, Spanish guitars warbling in his wake.

He moves like water-- no, like a blade through water, each motion of his arms both flowing and sharp, carving through the air with a grace than even Zen would be hard pressed to copy. His hips swing, daring angles that should throw him off his footwork, that should leave him stumbling, but instead he’s mesmerizing, a flamenco dancer that does not need to touch the ground.

“Who is he?” Ryuu murmurs, shifting in the seat behind her.

“I wish I knew.” Jealousy drips thickly from Garrack’s voice. “Just where did Haruka dig up a gem like this?”

Tanbarun, Shirayuki nearly says, but she can’t speak, can’t do anything but watch this man skate Zen’s routine like he owns it, like it was made for him. She expects him to mark the jump sequence-- quad toe, triple toe loop-- but the moment he jumps, she knows-- it’s clean. No, more than clean, because this isn’t a joke, not a sly wink and smile to his new friends--

He’s come to compete.

“Can you believe that?” Zen normally floats like a cloud on the ice, but right now he looks like he could thunder and storm too as the song switches to the next on deck. “He did my whole routine.”

Kiki’s mouth cants, wry. “Better than you did.”

He snaps to her like a lightning crack. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“I would.” Garrack saunters up to the barrier with a barracuda’s smile, raising a brow. “If you’d gone that clean at Worlds, that would have placed you. Maybe would have brought home gold.”

Zen only glowers, and Shirayuki sends her coach a pleading glance. It’s a hopeless cause to wish she’d keep her mouth shut, but maybe Garrack might blunt her tongue.

She really should know better.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone move like that,” Garrack sighs, tapping her hand on the plastic. “Not since...”

Your brother, she doesn’t say; a small mercy. Zen’s grimace says he heard it anyway.

“Where’s he from?” Ryuu asks, appearing at her elbow. His brows are drawn, grave over his already serious eyes. “I haven’t seen him at any competition.”

Shirayuki bites her cheek to keep from saying, I have.

“That’s the question,” Garrack grumbles, looking greener by the second. “Where did he find an unknown that can skate like that? It can’t be--”

“Korea.”

The accent that says it is distinctly not that; oh no, there is a deeper rumble on the ‘r’, a harder ‘k’ at the start. A thicker accent than he’d sported when he loomed over her, gold eyes cold as coins, and asked, I think you get my point, da?

When she turns, there he is: her saboteur in the flesh.

“Well, well, devushka.” His grin stretches wide, elbowing in between Zen and Kiki. “Long time no see.”

[jasminedesu]

Dancer AU?

OK HEAR ME OUT!

I’m a dancer so sometimes I imagine the kind of dancers the boys would be like! These sports animes really got me feeling some typa way. Ik itd take a lot of time but ughhh if there was a dance anime >.<

DISCLAIMER: There are SOOOO many dance styles out there but personally, I only really know street-dance styles, some latin dancing and some contemporary.  

I found so many links of this gif I couldn’t find the creds :( but thank you to whoever made this! I think this is BTS’s choreo?

Karasuno:

Daichi: A hip-hop dancer and the type to care about foundations and he would be really good at popping/locking and bboy-ing. He would do grooves every day to work on the fluidity of his movements. Also, the most likely to tell his friends to take a class with him that are different styles: waacking, litefeet, house. 

Asahi: Would be the type to have try a class because his friends said he should and then really enjoyed it because he had that natural ability. He would have really toned legs/arms (like he doesnt already) because, since he’s so tall, he would always have to bend down and move faster than everyone else so he could keep the phasing of his movements similar to everyone else. 

Sugawara: Grows up doing contemporary but then learns hip-hop because he wanted to try after seeing Daichi and Asahi. He’s really graceful with his movements so he would always work extra hard to put that extra execution in his moves. Also, he’d be the type to enjoy social dancing like bachata. 

Tanaka: Krumper and you cannot tell me otherwise. With his energy it would be a perfect way for him to express himself. He would be the one helping Suga with putting more force into his movements while Suga would help Tanaka with slowing down and filling out his movements. 

Nishinoya: Straight up hip-hop and would 100% do fem styles. Like while he would kill choreo to a song like “Betta Watch Yo Self” you cannot tell me he would not be the type to throw it back if "WAP” ever came on. His facials would be AMAZING! 

Hinata: He started dancing because he listened and learned kpop dances. Then he realized he liked dancing and would try to find a way to learn more in high school (cue meet Daichi and his friend group of dancers). He’s just eager to learn as much as he can so he would constantly learn from his upperclassmen after school. 

Kageyama: Grew up learning contemporary and hip-hop (idk why but I think of Sean Lew’s style of dancing). Expressive and he’s good at showcasing emotions on stage. Has a lot of stage presence. 

Tsukishima: This boi always has headphones on so I feel like he is the type of person to choreograph in his head and then execute it whenever he has time. Tsuki would probably be a house dancer and enjoy toprocks. Someone who just like footwork in general. 

If I had to choose a choreography that encompasses the chaotic energy that is Karasuno... I would say “We Rare” by Chance the Rapper from Brotherhood. Also, you all should watch it because it’s just soooo good. 

EXTRA: so I haven’t met EVERYONE yet cuz ya girl is still on season2 (yes I am late but I am loving them) but here is some other bois <3

Kuroo: You know that one video of Jay Park at his concert.... that. He’s just vibin with the music BUT he can actually dance when it comes down it and he would be really good at isos and swaggy pieces. 

Oikawa: Would learn tik tok dances and post them. A ballet dancer and also the type to add a lot of flair and winks to his style/routines given to him. 

[tigerkirby215]

5e Yone, the Unforgotten build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Riot Games)

A YouTube comment on “The Path“ cinematic:

I can’t top this. This comment is fucking gold.

GOALS

Asakana - Trust me as a Kayn main I’m salty that we have another half-demon anime boy who isn’t even Darkin. But we still need a mask of many demonic faces.

Three swift strikes... - “Brother, why did Elder Souma let you have two swords?” Regardless we’ll need two swords for many slashes.

Death is like the wind - Yone is dead except not really, but he’s still capable of some astral projection to fight his foes from a distance.

RACE

Yone may have been human but with a demon fusing to him that gives him just enough infernal blood to be a Tiefling! As a Tiefling your Charisma score increases by 2 and your Intelligence score increases by 1. Your Hellish Resistance grants you resistance to fire damage, and Infernal Legacy grants you a few innate spells which I’ll cover in the build.

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - You’re an anime sword boy who was second best only to your brother who is the most anime sword boy who ever did swing an anime sword.

14; CHARISMA - As the more level-headed brother you had to do most of the talking. Remember that Charisma is strength of personality; not raw attractiveness. (Though you certainly have that going for you too.)

13; INTELLIGENCE - A master swordsman needs to study the art of war, which is more theory and less art. (Feel free to set your CON higher instead if you want more health.)

12; WISDOM - Yasuo’s the hothead and you’re the calm one. Not calm enough not to try to kill your brother, and definitely not calm enough to not be a target for Asakana.

10; CONSTITUTION - You died before, and dying generally means you weren’t that sturdy to begin with.

8; STRENGTH - Being cut down by the legendary wind technique and then brought back from the dead doesn’t spell a good workout routine. Yeah Yone has big pecs but put simply we need everything else more.

BACKGROUND

You had a background before, but unfortunately dead men tell no tales. You are a Haunted One brought back to life to hunt the creatures of the night. You can choose two skills from the Haunted One list to be proficient in: Investigation will help you find any stray Asakana, and depending on if your definition of emotional demons are Religion or Arcana you can pick either of those for your second skill. (Arcana is probably going to be more useful though.)

As a Haunted One people can easily see into your Heart of Darkness, easily telling that you’ve faced unimaginable horrors in your past. No shit you have a demon mask permanently attached to your face. Regardless commoners will be willing to aid you as much as possible unless you’ve shown yourself to be openly hostile, such as throwing their promo games.

You also learn two languages of your choice: one of which must be Exotic but since you already know Infernal as a Tiefling Sylvan would be good to talk to the spirits in a dating sim. For your other language Elvish seems fitting for Ionia.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

THE PATH BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ROGUE 1

Perhaps not the most fitting for the honorable brother, but being a Rogue will give us the skill to strike swiftly. As well as more skills in general! Take Perception and Insight to find Asakana, Acrobatics to fight them, and Intimidation to strike fear into their hearts. You also get Expertise in two skills your proficient in: Investigation and Perception would help further with finding Asakana.

When you find the Asakana you can strike it down with Sneak Attack. If you have Advantage on an attack roll or are attacking an enemy within 5 feet of an ally you can do an extra d6 of damage. Despite the name “sneak attack” you don’t actually have to sneak, but you do need to use a Finesse weapon such as a short sword. Yes your swords aren’t exactly “short” but for the purposes of dual wielding it’s the best you’ll get.

And after striking the demon down you might need to speak its true name in Thieves’ Cant. That’s not what Thieves’ Cant is? Well regardless it’s a code language shared among rogues; perhaps you picked it up from the Navori? At least you can shout the demon’s name loud and proud as you seal it away thanks to Tiefling Thaumaturgy, along with all other sorts of little supernatural effects I suggest reading into.

LEVEL 2 - ROGUE 2

At level 2 Rogues get Cunning Action to Dash, Disengage, or Hide as a bonus action. Hiding isn’t very in-character but being able to move swiftly across the battlefield is key for the twin blade technique. Unfortunately attacking with a twin blade also requires your bonus action, so pace your movements accordingly.

LEVEL 3 - ROGUE 3

Level 3 Rogues get to choose their Martial Archetype and in order to strike swift and true you’re going to want to play a Swashbuckler. Swashbucklers get Fancy Footwork to be able to slip away from enemies they attacked without provoking opportunity attacks, even if they miss.

Additionally they get Rakish Audacity which ironically provides two benefits: for one you get to add your Charisma modifier to your initiate, but you can also activate your sneak attack if you strike an enemy in melee with no other enemies nearby. Single the demon out and cut them down now that your Sneak Attack does 2d6 damage!

And finally you can cast Hellish Rebuke at second level as a reaction once per long rest thanks to Infernal Legacy. Strike a ganking lust demon with a big burst of “BEGONE THOT” damage!

LEVEL 4 - FIGHTER 1

Adding a quick level in Fighter because Yone was professionally trained, so a Fighting Style would be good to have. Naturally we’ll be going for Two-Weapon Fighting to fight with twin blades. You also get Second Wind to heal for a d10 plus your Fighter level once per short rest for a quick Corrupting Pot in lane.

But unfortunately now we’re going to have to die...

(Artwory by KAIZERS02 on DeviantArt)

LEVEL 5 - WARLOCK 1

Just kidding of course because it’s ya boii coming back with the WARLOCK LEVELS! You can choose your Warlock Patron straight at level 1 and as someone who came back from the dead you may think we’ll be going for the Undying patron right? Well that’s where you’re dead wrong because we’re going for a pact with a Fiend.

Why Fiend Patron? - Along with the lore reasons (not all Warlock pacts have to be made on good terms) Pact of the Fiend gives us Dark One’s Blessing to recreate the shield from Spirit Cleave (W), and Burning Hands also gives us an easy-to-use cone spell to recreate a cone-shaped cleave.

Why not Undying? - Undying has a pseudo-support role and a heavy focus on not dying, neither of which Yone does in-game.

Why not Hexblade? - We need at least 12 levels in Warlock for an invocation, and that means we’d be getting Accursed Specter from Hexblade. Yone doesn’t summon spirits to fight for him and while I could normally get past that bit of flavor fail (as both Hexblade’s Curse and Armor of Hexes actually make a lot of sense for Yone) Fiend made a lot more sense given that he literally gets his powers from a demon. A DEX build also allows you to be shirtless in Ionia.

Pact of the Fiend Warlocks have the Dark One’s Blessing, granting them temporary hitpoints equal to their Charisma modifier and their Warlock level when they down an enemy for some spiritual shielding.

Additionally Warlocks gain access to Pact Magic. You learn two cantrips from the Warlock list: Minor Illusion creates a sound or small visual you can use to trick an Asakana into falling for a trap. And Toll the Dead isn’t Eldritch Blast! Excluding the war crimes I just committed by not putting Eldritch Blast on a Warlock (you’re going to be using your swords most of the time anyways get over it it’s one spell) Toll the Dead forces the enemy to make a Wisdom save or take a d8 Necrotic damage, or a d12 Necrotic if they’re injured, making it a great finishing blow after using Soul Unbound.

You can also learn two first level spells: Burning Hands forces enemies to make a Dexterity saving throw or be Spirit Cleaved for 3d6 fire damage. If you want to mark an enemy for Soul Unbound however Hex will let you do an extra d6 of necrotic damage every hit, and give an enemy disadvantage on skill checks related to an ability score of your choice. You can also cast the Darkness spell once per long rest as a Tiefling, blinding everyone in the 20 foot sphere of darkness. If only you could see through it...

LEVEL 6 - WARLOCK 2

Second level Warlocks get Eldritch Invocations and we actually won’t be taking the one that helps us see in the dark. We will however be taking Armor of Shadows to let us cast Mage Armor at will and go shirtless in Ionia. Your second invocation will remain empty for now.

You can also add another spell to your repertoire and Protection from Evil and Good will help a lot with fighting Asakana. A creature blessed by the spell is attacked with disadvantage by aberrations, celestials, elementals, fey, fiends, and undead. Additionally they can’t be charmed, frightened, or possessed by them. If they’re already debuffed by these types of enemies they have advantage on future saving throws against them. Once you know the truth of Asakana there is no reason to fear them... or some other edgy one liner.

LEVEL 7 - WARLOCK 3

Third level Warlocks get their Pact Boon and hey look it’s Pact of the Blade. You can create a magic weapon in your hand as an action. The weapon counts as being magical to overcome armadillos who say “okay” a lot. And you know that Invocation I told you to hold off on? Improved Pact Weapon will let you do more damage with the blade of the Asakana. If you want to remain in character I’d suggest only attacking with your pact weapon in your offhand, but remember that Two-Weapon Fighting takes your Bonus Action so feel free to hit hard and then run if needed.

You can also now cast second level spells like Misty Step for some sick plays with Flash.

LEVEL 8 - WARLOCK 4

Fourth level Warlocks finally get an Ability Score Improvement: increase your Dexterity by 2 for swifter and deadlier strikes with your twin blades. Could we take a feat? Yeah, but we won’t.

You also learn another cantrip at this level on top of another spell. For your cantrip Prestidigitation will further your ability to cast small spiritual magic, and for your spell of choice we already got flash so how about Ray of Enfeeblement for Exhaust? There’s a lot of other great options though: Blindness / Deafness from the Fiend list is also a great choice.

LEVEL 9 - FIGHTER 2

Second level Fighters get Action Surge, allowing them to take one additional action on their turn. Right now that only means one extra sword swing but you can cast a spell after you attack!

LEVEL 10 - FIGHTER 3

At level 3 Fighters can choose their Martial Archetype and to unbind one’s soul you must travel to the world of Wildemount for the Echo Knight subclass. I’ve already made a few Echo Knights before on this sub so I’m going to give the cliffnotes version of a class that has quite a long ability description at level 3 for Manifest Echo:

You can summon your soul within 15 feet of you as a bonus action.

You can move your soul up to 30 feet for free on your turn.

Your soul can’t be more than 30 feet away from you by the end of your turn, or else it disappears. (Goes back to your body)

Your soul has an AC of 14 + proficiency and 1 hitpoint.

It’s immune to all conditions and uses your saving throws.

You can swap places with your soul using 15 feet of movement (regardless of the distance between you two.)

When you attack you can make the attack come from your soul instead.

Your soul can opportunity attack (using your reaction.)

Additionally Unleash Incarnation will let you attack an extra time from your soul’s location on your turn. You can use it a number of times equal to your Constitution modifier but your CON mod is currently zero. Thankfully you can use it a minimum of one time before finishing a long rest.

(Artwork by Valkhar on DeviantArt)

LEVEL 11 - FIGHTER 4

Fourth level Fighters get an Ability Score Improvement: invest further in Dexterity for 19 DEX and all the benefits that provides.

LEVEL 12 - FIGHTER 5

5th level Fighters get an Extra Attack, letting them attack twice with their main action. This means that with your bonus action you can attack three times in a round! Now would also probably be a good time to put the Asakana’s blade in your main hand instead of trying to work around your fancy passive.

LEVEL 13 - WARLOCK 5

It’s straight down Warlock now to become one with the Asakana we wear as a mask. Level 5 Warlocks get another Invocation and it wouldn’t be Pact of the Blade if we didn’t take both Improved Pact Weapon and Eldritch Smite! Pretend to be a Paladin by turning a spell slot into more sword damage and pretend to be your brother by knocking people over when you do so!

You can also learn another spell like Gaseous Form to turn into petals on the wind. Additionally Hex is probably wearing away its welcome by this point so I’d suggest taking Hold Person instead to CC-chain a foe to death.

LEVEL 14 - WARLOCK 6

6th level Fiend Warlocks get Dark One’s Own Luck, letting them add a d10 to an ability check or saving throw once per short or long rest. I consider this less you being “lucky” and more you going all out just this once.

You can also learn another spell from the Warlock list such as Spirit Shroud from Unearthed Arcana to give nearby enemies a Randuin's Omen while you cut them down.

LEVEL 15 - WARLOCK 7

7th level Warlocks get another Invocation and while there are plenty to choose from it’s only fair for the man who collects masks of many faces to get a Mask of Many Faces, allowing you to cast Disguise Self at will! Is this mostly done for flavor and is it a bit late to get Disguise Self? Yes but it’s still a very good spell to have.

And you can learn a 4th level spell like Fire Shield from the Fiend List. You can make a Fire Shield for resistance to Cold damage or a Cold Shield to resist Fire damage which you already resist. But regardless of your choice anyone who hits you with a melee attack for the duration will take 2d8 damage of either Fire (if you chose the Fire Shield) or Cold (if you chose the other.)

Also I’d perhaps suggest replacing Misty Step with Dimension Door? Sure Dimension Door takes a full action (while Misty Step takes a bonus action) but Dimension Door has a 500 foot range which will never not be useful! Teleport can be just as useful as Flash you know.

LEVEL 16 - WARLOCK 8

8th level Warlocks get another Ability Score Improvement: put one into Dexterity and the other one into... yeah Charisma. You also could learn another spell but none of these really interest me so I suggest holding off on it for now.

(Artwork by MizuriOfficial on DeviantArt)

LEVEL 17 - WARLOCK 9

9th level Warlocks get another Invocation, and while again there’s plenty to choose from we strive for accuracy here so how about some spiritual levitation? Ascendant Step lets you cast Levitate on yourself without using a spell slot or material components, so you can float towards a wise old man who definitely isn’t an Asakana in disguise.

But most importantly you now gain access to 5th level spells! Hallow is a big spell with a lot of effects, a 1000 gold cost, and a 24 hour casting time but it’s the ultimate way to protect an area from Asakana! To seal the fate of your foes  Synaptic Static forces an intelligence saving throw on all enemies in an AoE to try to avoid massive damage along with a disorientation effect that tends to come with being knocked up into the air by a tornado.

LEVEL 18 - WARLOCK 10

10th level Fiend Warlocks get Fiendish Resilience, allowing them to resist one type of damage of their choosing. They can swap the resistance out on a short or long rest but damage from magic weapons or silvered weapons ignores this resistance, so probably better just to resist wind magic (Thunder damage) in general instead of specifically resisting a magic wind sword.

Additionally while you won’t learn any more Warlock spells you do get your final cantrip: for some more minor spirit projection how about Mage Hand to grab things within 30 feet and bring them to you?

LEVEL 19 - WARLOCK 11

11th level Warlocks get Mystic Arcanum, which are like regular spell slots which only come back after a long rest because you’re no longer special. Regardless if you want to harness the wind technique look no further than Investiture of Wind Stone, because the rock spell actually lets you knock people over.

Regardless until the spell ends you have resistance to nonmagical slashing, piercing, and bludgeoning, you can move across difficult terrain without spending additional movement, you can move through terrain without spending extra movement (but can’t end your turn there), and you can spend your action to try to knock everyone near you over with some basic wind techniques.

Yes there are better spells to take (even in the Investiture spell line, such as the genuine Investiture of Wind which would let you fly as well as block projectiles with a wind wall of your own) but you’re not your brother. You’re a simple, practical stone who gets the job done. Or you can be a wandering poet: make your own Yone - you don’t follow this build point-for-point.

You also apparently get another spell because Mystic Arcanum doesn’t count as a spell? Hold Monster is like Hold Person but it works against everything at the mere cost of a much higher spell slot, meaning that you can only affect one creature with parallelization but that should be more than enough for your little brother to get the job done and flash his fancy blue crest afterwards. You do have three spell slots now after all.

LEVEL 20 - WARLOCK 12

12th level Warlocks get our final Ability Score Improvement and... ugh. As much as I want to do something fun I have to accept the fact that Charisma will help us more, so you may as well grab the Resilient Feat with Charisma for better saving throws and a higher Charisma mod.

But that Charisma mod is going to get a lot of use since now you can take the Lifedrinker invocation which grants the Asakana’s blade Necrotic damage equal to your Charisma modifier! That’s a lot of damage? How much damage? Well...

FINAL BUILD

PROS

One to cut, one to seal - Let’s do the math for how much damage you do with your swords every round: two strikes from the Asakana’s blade (d6 + 6 slashing + 4 necrotic), one from your regular sword (d6 + 5), and sneak attack damage (2d6) for a total of... 5d6 + 25 damage (8 of it being Necrotic and the rest being Slashing) every round. Not to mention Eldritch Smites in a pinch and a large assortment of spells.

Fear, once named, controls no one - You are also incredibly elusive with 18 AC and strong saving throws. Swashbuckler lets you get into the fight fast and get out before your enemy has a chance to react, and cunning actions let you weave around the battlefield as you see fit. To top it off Echo Knight levels let you attack your foes without even being near them! "Cross the veil!"

Wear a mask long enough, and you forget the face beneath - You have a great deal of out-of-combat utility too. Language proficiencies (along with Thieves’ Cant), skill proficiencies (including expertise in two very important skills 23 passive perception, anyone?) Thieves’ Tools, several utility spells which you can cast pretty much at will, not to mention the utility of near-infinite teleportation and flat out infinite levitation.

CONS

Blink, and you'll miss your own death - Between two-weapon fighting, cunning action, and interactions with your echo there’s such a thing as too many bonus actions.

Do not wish to hide behind masks - There’s also such a thing as being too elusive. Swashbuckler gives you plenty of mobility as does Echo Knight, but putting them together means that you’ll be everywhere at once.

Are you here to usher me back? - Multiclassing a spellsword means that you miss out on some vital ability score increases. This means your Charisma isn’t topped off, the saving throws you aren’t proficient in are subpar at best, and your health is just barely over the Power Word Kill threshold.

But a hunter with many weapons will always have the right one to catch its prey. Lure out the Asakana and strike them down. Just remember that even if you alone can stop the demonic plague you don’t have to work alone. Your brother may have struck you down but if you learn to forgive the Asakana will be a lot weaker. "Long before blades and sorcery are needed, words... can save a soul."

(Artwork by @ThatwasforZED on Twitter)

[thewhumperinwhite]

I'm sorry I don't know your OCs very well but I absolutely adore tma so I'll ask: slaughter, buried and desolation (my favourite entities) for any OC of your choosing :) -S

HILARIOUS BC THOSE ARE LEGIT THE THREE THAT SCARE ME THE MOST LMAO

🔪 the slaughter - what’s the most violent thing your character has ever done? how did they feel about it? have they ever killed anyone? what would/does it take to get them to act violently, or take a life?

I'm gonna answer this for Art because in a very bleak way I think his answer is the funniest?

So Art and Karim met when Karim was on his initiation meeting for the Coven (i.e., Bring Me Back Proof That You Killed Someone) and Art happened to be on the same deserted part of the city docks For The Purposes Of Killing Himself, and Karim was like ‘.…..there’s a mutually beneficial arrangement in here somewhere,’ but then can’t actually go through with it because he’s, you know, Not Actually A Murderer, so after they sleep together he just drains about a pint of Art’s blood to maybe give to Micah later and let’s Art sleep it off.

So Art wakes up miserable and dizzy and not dead, and draws the conclusion that Karim was lying to get Art in bed. And he really expected not to wake up-- was kind of depending on it, in fact.

So, the most violent thing Art has ever done was throw a heavy ceramic lamp at Karim’s head the morning after they had sex for the first time. Which could have done some real damage, if it’d hit him. Thankfully he was too dizzy from blood loss to have good aim :)

⚰ the buried - when had your character felt the most trapped? How well do they handle confinement?

Sol Michaelis Does Not Handle Confinement Well.

This is my official assurance that the problems Sol has with his father are not in any way related to him being trans. Vic Michaelis didn’t.... necessarily seem to hear Sol when he told came out? But he certainly wasn’t mad. It’s just that Sol’s dad is, uh... a mad scientist strict about his work hours and unwilling to be interrupted during them, even by his children. And Sol was a rambunctious kid, and probably too neuroatypical to reliably remember to be quiet, even when he was punished for making noise. 

So, partly as a punishment and partly as a way of Keeping Him Quiet, Vic would routinely shut Sol in the hall closet for increasing increments of time.

Which is... bad, admittedly. He always hated it, every time; by the time he was moving up into the sixty-minute range he would often be in tears by the time his dad unlocked the cupboard and let him out. But it’s also bearable. And it also Doesn’t Fucking Work, because Sol doesn’t usually realize he’s being loud until he gets yelled at for it. It almost feels like routine after a while.

Then, when Sol is 11 and his sister is 9, Vic has an important breakthrough in his home lab and runs off to tell his colleagues about it, forgetting that Sol is locked in a very small storage closet and the key is in Vic’s pocket.

Sol’s in the dark for over six hours, him screaming and crying inside the closet, his sister Karine and their nanny apologizing and trying to jimmy the lock on the outside, and Sol has an extended panic attack when he realizes it doesn’t matter if he begs or if everybody forgives him, the key just isn’t here.

When he gets home, Victor Michaelis unlocks the door, apologizes distractedly, and shuts himself back in his lap, and Sol never really forgives him.

🔥 the desolation - what’s the most precious thing your character has ever lost?

ggggg this is why I hate the desolation nothing freaks me out more than Losing Things That Can’t Be Replaced ANYWAY,

This might be obvious and kind of an easy out, BUT.

Andry has been learning to fence since he was eight years old.

His fencing master was a brittle, stick-thin old man named Toryn who taught with a heavy oak stick in his hand, which he would rap sharply against Andry’s knuckles or ankles when his form was poor. Asher, years later, would balk at the old man’s harshness and leave several lessons in a huff, but Andry appreciated his firmness. He rarely hit hard enough to bruise, just sharp quick jabs that were grounding more than painful. And when Andry could go a week without earning a single blow, the old man traded the stick for a foil and beat Andry mercilessly in every bout, holding nothing back, until Andry’s first victory, when he was fourteen, made him so proud and overwhelmed he had to shut himself in an empty room and cry for a few minutes afterward. 

By the time Andry was fifteen, he was routinely winning the fencing tournament at Colomur’s yearly festival, and by the time he was fairly certain the other contestants weren’t letting him win because he was the prince--but even then, he never won easily against Old Toryn, who sent him stumbling to the dust on the training room floor more often than not, and was the only man in Colomur whose smiles Andry felt he ever truly earned.

The old man was frail by the time the siege of Colomur House was really underway; he couldn’t survive on the decreased rations the blockade brought and he refused the food Andry tried to sneak him, sneering at the stolen bread and meeting Andry’s eyes to say that he was no longer the swordsman Colomur needed to survive these Northern invaders--and that Andry had better watch his footwork.

There is a moment, near the end of the siege-breaking battle, when Andry is surrounded by corpses, when he wonders if he’s made the old man proud, yet. That is, of course, before they cut off his hand.

[juyeonrk]

PROJECT HEARTZ ♡ MARCH EVALUATION          performing ✰ bts madtown’s IDOL    trigger warning for slight negative thoughts

                                       you can’t stop me lovin’ myself!

juyeon feels a little ridiculous standing in front of everyone in a bubblegum pink tracksuit. and the project heartz coordinators of all people. the white bucket hat on top of her head and the adidas originals on her feet are a stark contrast to the pop of colour and her long, dark locks. even if her look is a little abstract, juyeon’s convinced it’s the look for today’s evaluation. march meant a lot of things for juyeon. it was the end of her time as a regular old sphere trainee, or so she hoped. no more evaluations and day to day practices with her fellow trainees. and it was the beginning of a new, exciting journey. the beginning of her dream, of heartz. juyeon has to keep reminding herself that she isn’t a shoo in for a position in heartz. things could go wrong, she could go wrong and everything could potentially lead her back to square one. but she’s not a fan of thinking in that light these days, thinking positively has served her well of late.

she hears her name called. calmly, juyeon springs to her feet; walking to the center of the room before turning on her heels. she looks at the project coordinators, each one and bows carefully before standing upright. juyeon adjusts the brim of her bucket hat to show her face a little better, her bright and wide eyes peering out from underneath it. she flashes a smile at everyone before taking her place. she takes in a deep breath, shaking all of her limbs out before before turning her back on everyone. juyeon closes her eyes. showtime.

idol begins, the beat is heard through the sound system loud and clear. she counts the beat out in her head, keeping track of the moment she had to turn. juyeon turns cools, almost gliding. she doesn’t look up, maintaining strict eye contact with the floor for the opening choreography. her moves are sharp, precise. it’s not here where she gets to have fun. the steps have to be right.

you can call me artist, you can call me idol or any other something you can come up with, i don’t care. i’m proud of it, i’m free, no more irony, for i was always myself. point your fingers, i couldn’t care less, no matter what your reason to blame me is.

the opening verse is a rap, albeit very casual and laid back. the choreography isn’t demanding, so juyeon uses her expressions to her advantage. she puts energy into her movements, after all, she isn’t repeating them or learning them; she’s performing them. she had found this routine to be difficult, after all, not all the choreography was eye-catching or engaging, a lot was travelling from part one to part two; and juyeon had to make that engaging. the main sphere coaches know juyeon can dance and rap, and they have an inkling that she isn’t as bad at singing as she makes out to be. but can she command the stage as this job demands?

i know what i am, i know what i want, i never gon’ change, i never gon’ trade. trade off!

she dabs, moving into the first part of the song which is singing. it’s not really singing, because juyeon doesn’t find herself immensely uncomfortable reciting the lyrics. ever so slightly she finds herself straying for the original choreography, posing as she makes her way from the left of the room to the center. the planned choreography picks up and juyeon falls back into rhythm.

what you keep babbling about? i do what i do, so mind your own business, you can’t stop me lovin' myself!

juyeon jumps into the chorus’ choreography, quite literally. energy she had reserved during the opening of the song, through the first verse is released. but even amidst executing precise and sharp choreography, juyeon still manages a smile. she still plays with the audience. the whole concept of this song was to not take ones self too seriously and juyeon needed to start doing so, at least when it came to performing. she had spent what felt like her whole life being a try hard perfectionist who couldn’t stop until everything was how she envisioned. maybe a song like idol was what she needed, where she had to play into the story and the concept. she hadn’t an excuse to act or be perfect because that wasn’t the point. 

face off just like john woo aye, top start with that spotlight aye, sometimes become a superhero, spin it your anpanman, 24 hours isn’t much, confusedness for me is a luxury, i do my thang, i love myself. i love myself, i love my fans, love my dance and my what, there are tens of hundreds of myself in me. i welcome another me today, after all, all of them is me, i just go at it rather than sit on it, runnin’ man runnin’ man.

what you keep babbling about? i do what i do, so mind your own business, you can’t stop me lovin' myself!

the choreography isn’t demanding but it demands character and energy if anything. juyeon puts efforts into her jumps, ensuring her landings are swift. and she is cautious of her feet and her footwork. her mind is racing but she still manages to have fun. even if this evaluation isn’t the one that gives her a position in heartz, it’s a stepping stone to get her to where she needs to be, and it lets the coaches and everyone else know who she really is.

i’m so fine wherever i go, sometimes i find the longest way to go around. it’s okay, i’m in love with my-myself it’s okay, i’m happy in this moment, you can’t stop me lovin' myself!

the end of the song nears, and juyeon moves into the bridge. she’s faced with another vocally challenging part, probably the most from the entire song. there’s a high note which she narrowly avoids, not attempting. if this evaluation was any good, attempting that high note would be a good way to turn good to bad. she throws all that she has left energy wise into the end of the end of the song, smiling ear to ear. come on, come on. she coaxes herself on. the final seconds of the song play, the loud bass quietens and the jumping, the high energy stops and so does she. she pauses and instead of following the original choreography; sitting down. she turns her back on the coaches and project coordinators. and to the final second of the song, juyeon casually flicks her pink tracksuit jacket back off of her shoulders. she coolly points to her shoulder blades where printed in black, accompanied by a pink heart is the word: HEARTZ. 

[dwtsfun]

Dancing with the Stars Re-Watch: Season 3 Week 1

Hey everyone! After months and months, I am back with the rewatch of DWTS. This time we are going to be tackling season 3. I remember this season being frustrating for a few different reasons. Let’s see if they’re still issues that I have. Also, just so we all are on the same page, we are up to 11 couples and 10 weeks. We also have a few new pros. So yeah, let’s get started.

Joey and Edyta- Cha-cha (Judges’ Score=21, My Score=6)- This was a really good way to open the show. It had great energy and I loved how Joey really went for and attacked this dance. Edyta created a pretty fun routine too. His legs and feet are really really good. I usually don’t say that about the men, but it seems like Joey paid a ton of attention to making sure the lower half of his body was good. Now his arms need some work as well as his hips. And I might be trippin, but his posture was slightly off as well.

Sara and Tony- Foxtrot (Judges’ Score=15, My Score=6)- Okay so this dance was not bad by any means. Sara hit every move that she needed to. I could tell that she has potential. The issue here was that I could tell that she was so nervous. She was never super sure of the majority of the dance and it was just very tentative. I think 5′s were incredibly low, because she actually did not mess up. So that was a bit bizarre. 

Tucker and Elena- Cha-cha (Judges’ Score=12, My Score=3)- Ew. I don’t like Tucker. So forgive me for the obvious bias that is going to come out in what I have to say here. Never mind. I’m not biased. That was just all around bad. I was cringing the whole time. He did have fun though. I’ll give him that.

Monique and Louis- Foxtrot (Judges’ Score=19, My Score=7)- Monique is definitely one of my favorite celebs to ever hit the ballroom floor. So far, this has been the best dance of the night. Monique was at so much ease. She really glided across the floor. Her arms were gorgeous. She was so fluid. Everything that she did was great. Now I can see what they’re talking about as far as chemistry and her facial expression goes, but I don’t think it was THAT prominent in this dance.

Emmitt and Cheryl- Cha-cha (Judges’ Score=24, My Score=7)- Of the five dances that have been showed so far, I have to say that this was probably the best combination of technique, performance and comfortability that I have seen. I do think that his footwork needs more work. It was a little messy at times. But, it was a good dance. Maybe not 24 worthy, but I could see it getting one 8.

Willa and Maks- Foxtrot (Judges’ Score=22, My Score=7)- This was a great dance. Maks really gave her some really nice choreography and Willa really owned the dance. She was confident and she was very smooth. I also really like the dynamic of this partnership. It seems like Willa, like Mel, Laila, Erin and Kirstie, was able to put Maks in his place.

Mario and Karina- Cha-cha (Judges’ Score=26, My Score=8)- I’m just going to go ahead and say that this will probably be the best dance of the night. Mario was confident. Karina killed with the choreography. The hip action was amazing. His legs were amazing. He was sharp. He was precise. I can’t go up for it like the judges did though. His hands were hard to look at. And sometimes, his arms were a tiny bit strange. But otherwise, it was a great dance.

Shanna and Jesse- Foxtrot (Judges’ Score=18, My Score=5)- So I think Sara could learn a lot from Shanna’s performance and Shanna could learn a lot from Sara’s technique. What one lacks, the other has. It wasn’t bad and my attention never left her. But there are improvements that could be made with her technique. I also agreed with CAI about her core strength. 

Harry and Ashly- Cha-cha (Judges’ Score=17, My Score=5)- Harry was really stiff. He was also scared out of his mind. It was not graceful at all. He hit all the steps though and I could tell that some technique was there. But Harry is really just not a natural dancer. He tried though.I will give him that.

Vivica and Nick- Foxtrot (Judges’ Score=22, My Score=8)- Wait. Hold up! This dance made me sit up and really pay attention. This episode has been pretty boring up to this point. Vivica killed it. It was hot. It was sexy. It was classy. It was sophisticated. Her technique was great. Her hold was really good. This was my favorite dance of the night by far.

Jerry and Kym- Cha-cha (Judges’ Score=16, My Score=5)- Jerry is a real crowd pleaser. I can say that much. He needs so much help with technique. But, he did a great job performing and really selling it to us. He knows he can’t dance but he kept going. And that’s something I appreciate. It also makes it clear why he made it so far in this season. He’s just so fun to watch. I also love seeing Kym in her first season as a pro over in the States.

My Rankings and Scores Out of 30:

1. Mario and Karina- 24 =. Vivica and Nick- 24 3. Emmitt and Cheryl- 22 =. Willa and Maks- 22 5. Monique and Louis- 21 6. Joey and Edyta- 19 7. Sara and Tony- 18 8. Shanna and Jesse- 17 9. Harry and Ashly- 15 =. Jerry and Kym- 15 11. Tucker and Elena- 11

So that’s the performance show. Tucker and Elena were eliminated this week, which was the best elimination. Tucker had the least amount to offer the season, so him leaving first was spot on. I thought the judges were really tough on some of the couples (usually the female celebs) while pretty lenient on others. Hopefully that changes a bit. But I think back to Monique’s confessional during week 7 and I feel like it’s only going to get worse from here. Anyway, hope you all are doing well. Let me know your thoughts on these dances. And I will talk to you all soon.

[dwtspd]

SYTYCD 16 Top 8 perform

Love me some district 78. Gino slayed that. Ah, so we’re having a travel theme. Each dance inspired by a different country or something like that. Oh boy, this will be 2 hours long?? I rather they have shorter episodes and eliminate 2 people every other week, let us know the dancers longer. Also that is less rehearsal for them each week which is more physically sustainable.

Plus, I record my episodes on an online DVR that tends to buffer a lot the longer episodes are...so its gonna take me like, 3 hours to get through this. Anna and Benjamin Tahitian dance: nice. Bit of stumble in the middle. Benjamin’s Long Limbs were an asset this time as he could accentuate the moves a lot. Whereas Anna would lose the hip and knee action once she had to travel. Don’t know what Nigel was going on about having seen a great Tahitian routine before therefore he couldn’t enjoy this. By that logic, he shouldn’t be able to even glance at the thousands of modern and contemporary bits on this show. 8/10 Sophie has very nice floorwork I’ll say. But I think I saw the same leg lift like 3 times in that solo Madison and Ezra hip hop: damn, that’s one way to enter the stage. I loved this dance and I think the dancers saw the choreographer’s vision through. They were very effortless and floaty in the slow parts but then the beat would drop and they would be hitting it hard. I thought both were good, dunno what the judges were on. 10/10 Is that my first ten of the season??? Insert some dwts gif here. Gino you are fantastic and all but please no more andra day Bailey and Mariah Cha Cha: aww he got her flowers. I like the theme and costuming of this dance. Oof, I wanted this to go better. Dimitry gave them a HARD routine. Bailey was...stiff? Like, he was visibly trying very hard and was stamping the ground really hard with his footwork. Lacked hip action but he had good body rolls. Props to him for doing all the tricks. Mariah has the best ballroom out of all the non-ballroom dancers. He gets her flowers every week!!!!!! They are adorable in a completely wholesome, platonic way. 8/10 Madison has a nice solo then Ezra has a fantastic solo!! That pirouette with his leg in second going into that spinning jump and landing into a roll. Except for his all red costume. You know I’m not a fan of those. I think it’s the red Cuban shoes I can’t get over. Maybe if he had a different colour I could get pass this look. Gino and Sophie contemporary: Gino can cook??? Important skills. Dear Evan Hansen! OH WOW. WOW. TAKE A BOW KC MANNING. if the show suddenly ended here I wouldn’t be mad, because this is the best dance ever. I love the use of the props, setting, and blocking. Holy crap Gino’s leaps...I swear he jumps Sophie’s height. Sophie had such lovely smooth transitions and turns. I like the choreography too. It had lots of technique but also some simple but memorable phrases. 12/10 Oh Mariah, I wonder how she gets her solos because they always feel emotionally disconnected. Benjamin and Anna Broadway: oh man, Anna has that lovely hairdo and dress but why did they give her those shoes? They made her feet look clunky. That said she looked pretty good despite that. I actually think one of her turns was better than Benjamin’s! They got all the nuances of a soft, elegant piece like this perfectly. 9/10 Madison and Ezra Argentine Tango: I’m confused, Madison said Ezra reps death but he is also “giving her little pieces of life” as she is dying?? Madison looked stressed in rehearsal and even Ezra a bit tepid. AT has a different feel from ballroom when you are doing it. Despite how scared they were this was actually a very good dance! They were both so sharp and precise. It might have been better if they had closer body contact, and Madison sometimes was hunching forward slightly. AT is HARD to learn though. 9/10 ps Ezra has decent guyliner. One of the better ones. I’ve had enough of rum boy run but I like the whole ancient warrior theme Benjamin had going on. And then Anna follows up with another piece of music I’m not a fan of. Bailey and Mariah contemporary: slide into your arms/DMs. There are so many innovative routines tonight! Wonderfully done and staged, and beautifully executed by the dancers. Bailey’s feet are as nice as Mariah’s. He is one of if not the best b boys at contemporary. Oh wow. I don’t want to see them apart either, Mary. 10/10 Gino and Sophie Jazz: another good one! This was such fun. Sophie got the character spot on. I feel like she got the mood of the dance more than Gino, though he was moving better (could blame Sophie’s pants though). Did they take out the hat trick (haha, hat trick, geddit? Cos Gino called it a soccer ball). D trix doing the tamale train lol. 9.5/10 Madison Mariah Ben Gino Contemporary: Another song that I’ve had enough of. Ugh. And I thought we were having such a good second half of the show. Okay, music aside, that was fine until they took the guys shirts off. What was the point of that? I felt random and gimmicky. Can’t believe I’m rating Talia Flavia this low. 5/10 Time for some results. Gino and Mariah are safe, so Benjamin and Madison are in danger. Anna Sophie Bailey Ezra Afrojazz: Hmm, I feel like this dance was very short? Like, I was just getting into it and then it ended. 7.5/10 Oh right, we’re we supposed to have a travel theme? I kinda forgot about that in the middle of the show. And the dances did too. Damn, 5 pieces in 6 days. Jeezus. Ezra is in danger again as is Anna. So Ezra or Benjamin, Madison or Anna... I feel like Ezra’s solo might have saved him this week although Nigel might have a soft spot for the broadway routine. Madison had a very strong night especially with that tango routine but Anna was lucky that the show was so long her weak showing in the opening Tahitian routine would have been forgotten by that point. The judges save Ezra. That’s two eliminations he’s survived now. I thought he’d be more popular. They save Madison too, so that pairing gets another week together.

So Anna and Benjamin are going home. I would have picked Ezra I’m a heartbeat, but I find this is a little harsh on Benjamin, who had a good night. And I feel like he had a very cool personality under that hooded-eyed, floppy haired, laid back exterior. That’s why we should have a TOP 20!!!!!!!! Or at least a longer season. This episode was SO. LONG. would have been better cut in two. Then we’d have these guys around for at least a 1 more week.

[365daysoftododeku]

18th February 2019

Author: Z

Author’s Note: A Yuri on Ice AU

Warning: Panic Attacks

________________________________________________________________

Stay Close to Me

Izuku rubbed his eyes and clenched his fists to keep his balance as he knees quivered. He hadn’t slept due to the anticipation of today’s competition, and his eyes glazed over staring at the ice that lay beneath him.

A finger tapped on his shoulder, and he shuddered as he slowly turned around to see who the culprit was.

“Are you okay?” a soft-spoken voice asked him, laced with worry.

Izuku nodded vigorously. “I'm fine. Just…nerves you know?”

The man behind him grunted in understanding.

Though, this man was much more than just someone asking if he was okay.

He was Todoroki Shouto, five-time gold medalist and the only one who had the patience to coach him. They'd been working together for a few months now and before that...well Izuku was a fan to say the least. Shouto and his father were legends, and Izuku wanted nothing more than to be able to skate like them.

He wasn't a huge fan of Shouto's father...not like he was of Shouto. It was hard to escape that man though, he had a tight grip on what Shouto could and could not perform, and had been his personal coach since he was a young child. Only recently had he gained independence from the strict and tight styles that his father had insisted on.

As Izuku wasn't a fan of his father, he also wasn't a fan of that tight, closed-in skating style that Shouto had been forced to learn and perform.

Izuku was in awe of Shouto's own flowing, free style that he was able to do after cutting away from his father’s rules when he became an adult. Watching it was like watching two skaters at once, one burning with fiery passion, and the other unsure and distant; the intricate footwork and risky jump combinations never matched that melancholy expression.

Izuku had always aspired to be a skater like that; someone who could always surprise the audience. They never knew what new move Shouto would include in his routines, and that was what Izuku had latched onto. Shouto was mysterious, and before he’d been able to have a conversation with the man, he’d seemed intimidating.

After months of training together, though, Izuku learned that Shouto was less than adept in social circumstances, and wasn’t all that intimidating at all. They’d been able to form a sort of trust bond between each other in the recent months.

Ah, and just how did the famous Todoroki Shouto end up coaching Midoriya Izuku, who hadn’t even gotten bronze in the last Grand Prix event? Izuku had put out an ad on a whim, accompanied with a video. Izuku had worked hard to create a perfect imitation of one of Shouto’s gold-winning routines, and had been running on only two hours of sleep when he decided to post the video.

He may have tagged Shouto in the ad, and he may have been hoping he’d get a response from him specifically. But that didn’t mean he thought it’d work.

It worked well alright. Within two days of posting the ad, there was a knock on his door, and when Izuku opened it, he was greeted by a man two-toned hair and beautiful mismatched eyes, who had the smallest confused smile on his face.

Shouto hadn’t sent Izuku any sort of confirmation of accepting the ad, he just showed up to Izuku’s door.

“Oh, hi, um...how did you know this is my house?” Izuku stammered as the one man he idolized most stood before him.

Shouto cocked his head to the side in confusion, the red hairs mingling with the white. “The sign out front says Midoriya on it. I assumed it was the right place? Unless you’re his doppelganger with the same name.”

Izuku squeaked. Right. His family owned an inn. It was called “Midoriya Inn,” a clearly fitting name. His mother had been interviewed here before, as an advertisement for the inn, and she’d mentioned Izuku. It was a bit odd that Shouto would know this though, it wasn’t like the word spread that fast about him of all people.

“Oh, well, come in.”

The expression of wonder and confusion on Shouto’s face then was the same as it was now, at the last skate before the finals.

“Did you sleep well last night?” Shouto asked, snapping Izuku back to the present.

Without thinking, Izuku nodded. “Oh, yeah, I’m good.”

Shouto’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re lying. I can see the bags under your eyes.” He reached forward and poked at the soft flesh under Izuku’s eyes. “You should take a nap before the skate starts.”

Izuku knew he was right. But he was more determined to win the semifinals to make it into the finals than he was to get rest. Anyway his body was shaking with anticipation and anxiety. There was no way he could sleep now.

Izuku groaned. “I’ll be fine. I just need to wake up a bit. We could go for coffee.”

“You’ll just crash once the competition starts. I know from experience.” Shouto clenched his fists and set his jaw. “I don’t want you to be overwhelmed.

Izuku groaned louder. “Ugh, I won’t be able to sleep. I’m fine.”

Shouto grasped his shoulders. “I just want you to do well.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Izuku turned his head away from Shouto. His eyes focused on something he couldn’t even make out. It was all a blur to him. He couldn’t focus on anything right now, really.

Shouto was right.

---

After an hour of lying in the hotel bed without any remote sign of being able to fall asleep, Izuku got up again. During that time, Shouto had joined him, claiming to have been bored from sitting in the chair off to the side and thought a nap would do himself well also. Though there was another bed right next to Izuku’s...they’d gotten a room with two beds.

Izuku only felt more restless from the subsequent thoughts that came with sharing a bed with not only his coach, but quite possibly the only person he’d every looked up to and also the most powerful person in the skating world at the moment.

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, which were now even more droopy and watery. “We should head back,” he told Shouto.

“Alright,” Shouto agreed as he also got up and pulled his coat back on.

---

The shaking had gotten worse. Watching his opponents did nothing to calm his nerves. They were all so talented, not like him. He’d gotten such a late start in skating, only after finding Toshinori to show him the ropes. His mother had always supported his passion, but she couldn’t afford the lessons when he was younger. And she had to tend to the inn every day of the week. He couldn’t ask her to drive him to lessons and then later competitions.

When he found a frozen pond near his home, he decided to put on shoes with less traction, and try sliding around for a bit. He fell a lot. It was disheartening, but after an hour of falling and getting back up, he was able to make progress moving forward and keeping his balance.

That’s when Toshinori found him, frantically trying to make progress on his own without smooth ice or proper footwear. He offered to bring him to a rink and go over some simple things, gradually working up to the jumps that Izuku had always admired. He owed everything he knew to Toshinori, but he owed Shouto for giving him opportunity.

Not like all these other skaters. They grew up skating, their family being a major part of their skating career, maybe even being their coach as well. Some were prodigies and didn’t even need to learn the basics, they just picked it up on their own. They had personal rinks and were able to practice every day. Izuku still had duties at the inn and wanted to support his mom as much as he could. The only rink was a twenty minute walk from his home, and it was often too cold to even do that.

There was no way he had the skill to make it. Even with Shouto’s help, this came down to his own skill, which was pitiful at best.

“You didn’t sleep again,” Shouto pointed out. He frowned at Izuku, shivering even though he was wearing a jacket. “We shouldn’t stay here.”

“I’m fine,” Izuku insisted. He couldn’t look at Shouto. He knew that those beautiful gray and blue eyes would be boring into him, the care and worry so strong Izuku wouldn’t be able to resist it. “I slept. I promise,” he lied, but he tried to keep his voice steady.

Shouto hummed in disapproval. “Okay.”

Shouto stood next to him, taut as he watched the first few routines with Izuku.

Izuku tried to calm his thoughts by doing small stretches and keeping his eyes away from the rink. But the noise of the announcer commenting on every flub and incomplete rotation heightened his panic further until he couldn’t keep up with his stretching and he just stood still, staring at a wall.

“Izuku,” Shouto muttered behind him, hand on his shoulder. Izuku couldn’t find the voice to respond. It was like it died in his lungs. “Izuku,” Shouto said again, more forcefully.

Izuku shook his head. “I can’t,” was all he could whisper.

“We’re going then, come on,” Shouto decided, tugging at Izuku’s arm. When Izuku’s legs stopped shaking finally, he was able to walk normally. Shouto’s arm stayed behind his back and he led him through the crowds and down to the basement of the rink.

They came upon the parking garage, and Izuku froze. “Why are we here?”

“You need to calm down. And being up there will do you no good.” Shouto stood in front of him, holding his shoulders still. “You’re shaking. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Izuku stared at the concrete ground. He clenched his fists and tried his hardest to hold back tears. “No. Not really.” His voice shook, his throat tight. This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to Shouto that he had to watch him like this. It wasn’t fair that Izuku was the one he got stuck with coaching. He could have chosen anyone much calmer and focused, but he got stuck with Izuku who was still horribly self-conscious and lacked the experience of everyone else. “Why are you even here with me?”

Shouto didn’t answer. He tightened his grasp on Izuku’s shoulders.

Then, the announcer stated the last skater’s score. It was high. There was no way that Izuku could come close to that, much less surpass it.

He couldn’t stop the tears.

Warm hands pressed over his ears and he looked up finally. Shouto was staring at him, lips pressed together tightly and his eyes big with worry. “Don’t listen.”

Izuku cried harder. His shoulders shook not only with the result of his panic attack, but also the tears that streamed steadily from his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t know how to handle this, but it isn’t your fault.” Everything Shouto said was distant, but he could understand it. “You’re sure there’s nothing I can do? I could...kiss you? Would that be better?”

Izuku sort of wished he hadn’t heard that. Not now. What the hell was that supposed to mean? He grit his teeth in frustration.

He just shook his head and cried, “No, that’s not going to help! I just need you to stay here!” He shuddered through a sob and shook his head harder. “I just need you to stay with me, Shouto.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

What? Was he messing with Izuku now? “What do you mean?”

“If you don’t do well in this, that’ll reflect poorly on me. And my father. If that happens, I might as well resign as your coach.”

Izuku was sure Shouto was messing with him now. Unless Shouto really hated him and everything they’d been through in the past couple months was for nothing. That would be just like Izuku to falsely assume he was close to someone. Like how it had been with Kacchan. People were bound to ignore him in due time.

There was nothing Izuku could think to do beyond stare at Shouto. Shouto’s face was the same blank expression as always. “You’re messing with me. Why would you say something like that?”

Shouto didn’t confirm or deny it.

Izuku couldn’t hold back any more tears, they released all at once until he was sure he looked like a total disgusting mess of snot and tears. Every corner of his body shook with panic, grief, and disbelief. “You...you hate...me. Don’t you?” Izuku choked out.

“What? No, Izuku, that’s not what I meant. I don’t hate you at all.” Shouto took a hand away from Izuku and brushed his bangs in frustration. “I worded everything wrong. I don’t want you to cry anymore.”

“That...was the exact opposite of what I needed to hear.” Izuku almost laughed with how ridiculous what Shouto said was. “Just. Don’t say anything. Next time. Just stay there and listen. That’s all.”

Shouto nodded, his faint, soft smile returning. “Okay. I got it. I’m sorry.”

Izuku wrapped his arms around Shouto carefully. His tears soaked into Shouto’s thick jacket, but he let it happen. “Promise you’re not going to leave me?” Izuku asked, his voice thick still from crying.

Shouto sighed, and with it came a small laugh. “I won’t leave. That was stupid of me to say.”

---

Izuku’s eyes still hurt from crying and his nose was raw from rubbing it with tissues. He was up next, and it took all he had to calm his nerves and steady his breathing.

Shouto stood behind the wall of the rink, handing Izuku another tissue to wipe the remaining moisture from his face. When he was about to hand it back, he thought of a way to get Shouto back for the stupid thing he said. Instead of dropping it into Shouto’s gloved hand, he dropped it a few inches from the wall, where Shouto had to bend down to stop it from falling onto the ice.

That left his head open, Izuku poked at the part in the middle, where it was split between red and white, and before Shouto could bring his head up, he ran fingers through the red side. It was soft and silky, just as he’d expected.

Shouto brought his head up and scowled at Izuku. The culprit stuck his tongue out and turned to skate to the center of the rink.

Izuku took another deep breath. The ice was scraped up from the other skaters before him, but it still glistened beautifully. He focused on the sparkling surface as he got into his starting pose. The music started, quiet and calm at first, slowly picking up speed. Izuku focused on what each shift meant to him, and made his way through the first movements with ease.

Maybe I can change it up a bit. Shouto won’t expect it if I add more jumps.

It was a stupid idea, but Izuku had always been chock full of stupid ideas that made their way to real life before they could stew in his head. He didn’t know which was more dangerous, an idea that sat too long, or one that couldn’t be thought through enough before he pursued it.

He was impulsive, so it was always the latter.

He would add Shouto’s signature move to the end of his performance. It was arguably the most difficult jump he’d ever seen, but if he were to ever be able to live up to Shouto’s legacy, he had to try it. Shouto couldn’t be the only one able to surprise the audience.

The second half came, and Izuku’s heart was beating fast. His palms were sweaty and the stinging of his eyes worsened. He was losing focus, but he had to try still.

First were the planned jumps. He flubbed one, he totally fell during another.

Well, shit.

He made it through the second to last one before he replaced the last with the difficult move. He looked over to where Shouto was standing and watching with his hands pressed against the wall, leaning forward. He looked nervous.

Izuku smiled at him before he readied himself for the jump, his knees shaking again and his whole body tense with anticipation; both of which were absolutely horrible for what he was about to attempt.

Once he made it into the air, he closed his eyes and tried to keep his rotations going, but once he landed a foot on the ice again, he lost his balance and almost toppled over. But he hadn’t totally fell.

The audience erupted in recognition and awe. The announcer went wild with describing what Izuku had just attempted, but he couldn’t pay attention to it all. He grit his teeth and continued through the last pieces of footwork to finish off the routine. He was out of breath, but at least this part was easy. He’d see Shouto’s reaction when he finished, he just had to wait.

The music finished off with a flourish and he posed, his arm extended toward Shouto, whose eyes were wide and cheeks flushed. Izuku breathed heavily, not able to move for a second, but once he figured out what was going on, and that he could move again, he began skating toward where Shouto was.

Shouto also started moving, making his way to the entrance and actually stepping on the ice before Izuku made it over.

“I did good right?” Izuku cried out, hoping with every part of his body that Shouto was happy and not upset with him. He really could never tell.

Shouto didn’t say anything but launched himself forward, toward Izuku, his arms wrapping around Izuku’s back. But it wasn’t a hug, like Izuku had expected.

Before Izuku was completely knocked back onto the ice, Shouto’s eyes closed and his lips pressed against Izuku’s.

Holy shit.

Izuku was too confused and overwhelmed to also close his eyes and return what was apparently a kiss. He stared at Shouto’s gently closed eyelids instead as his back hit the ice.

Shouto pulled away and raised his body up with his hands. “That was surprising. This was the only thing I could to return the favor.”

Izuku stared at the man hovering over him, his eyes sparkling and his nose red from the cold of the ice and heat of the moment. Izuku stared for a while, his mouth open in awe. He couldn’t quite comprehend what had happened.

If there was any doubt in his mind that Shouto liked him, it disappeared right then.

“It worked,” Izuku breathed.

________________________________________________________________

Would you like your work to be featured in the 365 Days of TodoDeku Project? Apply here! (≧∇≦)/

[rkkyungsoo]

tomorrow, today with kang hyunggu @rkkhg - vocal division

(0:00-0:55, 3:00-3:37 but with 1:32-2:06 choreo, 3:38-3:49)

The judges called out his name and Kyungsoo found himself genuinely surprised. In previous performances, he’d mostly showcased his singing and as time progressed, gained confidence in that area. He thought once the ceos saw his lack of dance skills, they’d shake their head in distaste and send him back to his university student life. Somehow, he got to stay and Kyungsoo wasn’t sure who to thank - the judges for giving him opportunity, Yugyeom who taught him the dance choreography or his own buckets of sweats from all the practice last week. Whatever it was, he was glad to be in the competition still. Hopefully, for episode 4, he could go back to what he was really good at-

Kang Hyunggu.

His heart did a bit of a flip as it transitioned from the initial gladness (because he knew Hyunggu and didn’t have to stress about being with a stranger) to panic (because of how they met). Hyunggu stepped beside him with a fancy meeting you again and Kyungsoo gave his new duo partner a stiff smile. Indeed, he’d never expect to share the stage with a past hook up. What was worse? The fact Hyunggu was a dancer. That’s right, everybody, Kyungsoo was heading straight back to that sing-dance lifestyle, back to another week of endless dance practices. Hallelujah.

They chose a song together in Hyunggu’s dance studio after a few hours of web surfing. The song, called Tomorrow, Today, was beautiful to the ears. What was even better was the relatively simple but very charming dance routine that came with it. The dance did not have complex footwork and would not physically push Kyungsoo as much as his previous routine. The key in performing it well was in how well they could sync with each other and connect with the fluidity of their movements. A handful of gracefulness, a pinch of pain from indecision and eyes that linger out of longing...yes, Kyungsoo thought he knew what it would take to make a beautiful performance out of this song.

As soon as they started practising, Kyungsoo realized he had more body chemistry with Hyunggu. They went over the dance moves, at first counting out the beats to make sure they were matching in movement even when they weren’t looking at each other. Hyunggu was not better than Yugyeom as a dance instructor by any means, but Kyungsoo thought he understood the other’s movements more. He supposed it made sense, after all, that night a few months ago they literally became one-

Ahem, that was just an one time arrangement. They both had crippling commitment issues and had no interest of pursing anything deeper. Life was easier without love involved but now, they were doing a song about love, playing the roles of star crossed lovers that the world had no place for. For Kyungsoo, this sort of story was right up his alley. What was it that he read from a netizen blog a while ago? Brooding charisma, yes, that was what the girl wrote and it accurately described him. As a bit of a natural downer, Kyungsoo was good at expressions of pain, anger, sadness and longing. He was just fond of angsting, alright? Let him live.

Kyungsoo practised as hard as he did for his last duo performance and was hoping he’ll slowly improve his dancing, to the point where he could be proud of himself and not worry about stressing out his talented duo partners.

Overall, the week went smoothly. Other than having to deal with Suwoong’s weepiness about how sexy his routine was and convincing the other it was just a performance and that he must focus on bringing honour their family, Kyungsoo felt pretty good. A day before performance time, one of the chairs that was their prop broke. Thankfully, Kyungsoo heard the furniture crack in time to just jump off of it. No one was hurt and Kyungsoo’s wallet wasn’t small enough to whine over buying a new pair of matching chairs. These ones were extra sturdy and slip proof to make sure the same thing didn’t happen on stage. They practised with them just to make sure they were perfect.  

Finally, the performance day came.

Kyungsoo and Hyunggu walked onto the stage, each holding a foldable white chair. Kyungsoo was in a black shirt with jeans and Hyunggu was dressed very similarly except with a white shirt. They were really trying to go for that yinyang style. They positioned the chairs at the centre of the stage and moved forward to make their introductions.

As practised, the two held out one of their arms, making a cross between them. Hyunggu shouted out “Byeol Su!” and Kyungsoo, much quieter but still enthusiastically, said “Byeol Gu.” He was super embarrassed by this intro but Hyunggu put up a very convincing case about how it’ll make people amused and therefore make them more memorable. So yes, he decided to go with it but at the price of blushing furiously to the point that even the tip of his ears were red.

"Hello, everyone, we are Star Cross!” Hyunggu finished off their introduction cheerfully. Kyungsoo was ready to die of shame at this point and was glad when they stepped away from the judges and the rest of the audience to find their positions. Giving himself a second or two for a deep breath, pushing aside the embarrassment and focusing on his character, Kyungsoo heard the music start.

The two of them started out on the ground, their backs against their chairs and looking away from each other. Hyunggu was starting the song off, nice and gentle:

왜 내일을 오늘 골라야만 해

내일 일을 오늘 내가 어떻게 아는데

흐려져 가는 길과 나의 꿈들

When it was Kyungsoo’s turn to sing, they turned to face each other, jumping onto the chairs. They reached out towards the other party with their hands, only to pull back before their fingers could actually touch.

시간을 돌려 미리 내 미랠 보여준다면

어떤 길로 갈 지 내 길이 어딘지

알 수 있을 텐데

Hyunggu sang the following part and they two of them sat down on the chairs, leaning back until they were able to rest their heads on each other’s shoulder, but only for a second before they once again, pulled away.

어떻게 이렇게 나의 눈을 반쯤 가린 채

계속 고르라며 날 떠미는데

As they separated, they pulled their chairs along, changing their formation for Kyungsoo’s part, which was in full English:

Somebody let me know, tell me which way to go

Cuz I don't, don't, don't know

With that, they were in the chorus. The original choreo for the chorus part was nice but too calm, so they decided to switch it up. The choreo they ended up pulling from an earlier part of the song actually matched perfectly to the chorus and Kyungsoo was content with the change.

오늘도 답을 잘 모르는 질문에

끝없이 답을 해 자신이 없는데

이 길일까 저 길일까

내 선택들이 점점 두려워져

Kyungsoo sang as they reunited in the middle of the stage, their palms finally meeting as they danced. When they turned away from each other this time, their backs remained touching as if the lovers they were pretending to be couldn’t bear the idea of being any further away.

불안한 마음 마음 마음 마음 마음으로

난 또 다음 다음 다음 선택 앞에

가본 적 없는 길과 길 사이에서어떻게 내 길을 찾을 지 두렵지

하루 하루 가는 게

Hyunggu was singing as they walked away from each other once more, banging against the invisible wall that they pretended was separating them. Kyungsoo made sure his high note was clear and piercing in the background as their voices blended. They switched sides on the stage, pretending to look for each other as if that wall was still in place until they arrived at their final few lines.

Tell me, tell me

Tell me which way to go

They slowly walked back towards their chairs.

Which way to go

So tell me which way to go

Seated, their hands went to their forehead as if still struggling with the indecision. Kyungsoo turned his face towards the camera a little more, making sure his hand was not actually shielding his features from the light. Hopefully the brush of silvery highlighter Suwoong put on him would help accentuate his features and make his eyes pop but Kyungsoo learned a long time ago to not trust all of his cousin’s bullshit promises.

Tell me, tell me

So tell me which way to go

They sang the final lines together, their voices trailing off into silence. The performance, however, was not over as Kyungsoo got up from the chair, his back stiff and his brows knotted. His hand gripped the back of his chair, so hard that his knuckles were turning white. He doubted the camera would capture that but he was committed to his character either way. Kyungsoo exhaled slowly, but audibly and with one last look at Hyunggu over his shoulder, he walked away from the stage, leaving his ‘lover’ there to mourn over the loss alone.

He went half way down the stage before coming back to join Hyunggu. Tragic romance, hopefully they’ve done it well. For now, Kyungsoo was smiling again as he thanked the judges and his audience, all traces of that dejected man who had to abandon his love erased from his features.

[army-creations]

Junghope

A/N: sorry it’s taken so long to do your prompt! Hope the fact that I got carried away and basically wrote a drabble makes up for it!

Hoseok is the most popular kid in the school, the quarterback on the football team that hasn’t lost a game all season, the ladies’s man who’s endlessly charming, the star pupil who somehow manages to get good grades despite spending hours on the pitch.

And he’s utterly beautiful; heart shaped smile and golden skin, broad shoulders and a sharp jawline, and the prettiest eyes. Jungkook has been in love with him since the first day of his freshman year.

The first time they met - the only time Hoseok has ever paid any attention to him - he knocked straight into him in the middle of the corridor. He’d been so busy staring at his feet, too nervous too look up and make eye contact with people that he wasn’t looking where he was going.

Utterly mortified he’d babbled out apologies, clinging to the straps of his rucksack with white knuckles, and tried to run away, resolving to leave the school grounds immediately and never come back. But Hoseok clapped a hand on his arm to steady him and flashed him a friendly smile.

“You ok, kid?” He’d asked (like it was somehow his fault!) and didn’t let go until Jungkook had nodded furiously. “You’re a freshman right? First day is pretty scary, huh? Don’t worry, you’re gonna be fine!”

He had muttered something unintelligible, utterly overcome with a painful combination of embarrassment and sheer admiration and wriggled away. Yeah, not his proudest moment.

Jungkook had hoped his burning crush would subside over time - after all, there was no hope in hell that Hoseok would ever look at him again, let alone anything else. He was probably the last person in the entire school he would date, even if he was gay (which was about as likely as - well, it just wasn’t gonna happen). But with every passing day it just seemed to grow stronger.

So he pined from afar, watching Hoseok laugh with his friends at lunch and excel on the pitch in every match and making no effort to hide his fond looks, confident in his obscurity. He doubted any one actually knew his name, let alone paid attention to him.

In his Sophomore year, Jungkook joins the dance club after much conjoling from his one and only friend, Kim Taehyung, and it turns out to be something he’s good at. Like really, really good at (to quote Tae). It’s not exactly a popular sport in school, in fact it somehow made him even less popular than before, but he loves it. Rehearsals are the part of the school day he looks forward to most.

One day after school he’s practicing late, alone in the rehearsal room as he runs through the last sequence of their routine a few more times to get the footwork just right. He loses himself in the music, stops paying attention to the time, and starts to free style, adding spins and leaps that aren’t in the choreography, just having fun.

In the end, it’s his back up alarm (it wouldn’t be the first time that he’s gotten distracted) going off that stops him. He turns off the music and grabs his back, making for the door - only to come face to face with one Jung Hoseok.

He’s staring at him mouth agape, eyes sparkling with excitement, looking beautiful as always and Jungkook forgets how to breathe.

“That was amazing!” Hoseok says.

“Uh.. thank you” He replies. What the hell is happening? “You… were watching?”

“Ah yeah sorry” He laughs awkwardly, and scratches the back of his head. “I hope I didn’t disturb you. Just… the door was open and I was coming by - practice just ended you know? Anyway um, it was kinda hard to stop watching”

“Oh” Jungkook honestly has no idea how to reply to that. 

“You’re part of the dance team right?”

“Yeah?” Hoseok has noticed him? “I mean, yes. I am. Joined last year”

“Wish I could learn to dance,” Hoseok sighs wistfully.

“You could join the club” Jungkook blurts out before he can think it through and hurriedly backtracks. “Though you don’t have the time. Of course. Football! ha ha”

Wow. He’s outdone himself.

“Yeah I guess” He frowns. “Though really it’s just cos my parents would never let me - they think it’s a waste of time, you know? Not that it is! I think it’s really cool! Way more impressive than football”

“I get you” He interrupts him. “I… my parents weren’t that pleased with it either to be honest.”

That’s not entirely true. His parents couldn’t care less what he did - in that they paid so little attention to his life some days it felt like they’d forgotten they had a son. But he wasn’t about to tell Hoseok that.

“Damn, I’m sorry, shouldn’t have said that” Hoseok apologises, starting to back away to the door. Jungkook can feel his one chance slipping through his fingers and he starts to panic. “Look, I’m probably taking up your time, right? I’ll leave you to practice. Good luck with um… you guys do shows right? Yeah, well good luck with your next one and guess I’ll see you around”

“Wait!” He calls out, grabbing Hoseok’s wrist on instinct. “I can teach you.”

“What?”

“I can teach you” He repeats. “To dance. If you want. You know, since you can’t join the club, I practice after school a lot so…” He can feel his face heating up in shame. God what was he saying? “Never mind, sorry, it was a stupid suggestion -”

“I would love that” Hoseok says. “I mean, if you’d really be willing to do that?”

“Of course” He nods, feeling slightly numb. The way Hoseok’s face lights up into the brightest smile makes it all worth it.

What has he got himself into?

Or

Hoseok has been in love with dance for years, it just takes him a while longer to realise Jungkook is only teaching him because he’s been in love with him for longer.

[kpoprambles00-blog]

MAMAMOO (마마무) - White Wind (9th Mini Album) [COMEBACK REVIEW]

[NOTE: I couldn’t fit in all the videos due to the video limit, so click/press the name of each song to go to YouTube and listen to it!]

There's a very well known saying that we often save the best for last. And yeah, that might not always be true, and I'm not trying to spoil my opinion right away, but... MAMAMOO took that saying to heart. HARD. I've loved the vast majority of what they've given us with the '4 seasons, 4 concepts' thing they've been doing for the last year or so - with their last album, Blue;S, admittedly being my least favourite, and Red Moon being my favourite. Yellow Flower was alright, with a few great songs here and there.

But White Wind? White Wind is THAT BITCH. AND I MEAN IT.

At this point this blog is basically composed of hyperbole and nothing else, but... holy fuck, this album. THIS FUCKING ALBUM. These sorts of releases are the reason I started this blog and these comeback reviews - every now and again we'll get to see something really special get released, and White Wind is one of those occasions. It's... the best thing MAMAMOO have ever done, period. And it absolutely shows why these girls are so damn popular. This is one of those albums that's making me proud to be a Moomoo since "Mr. Ambiguous". This is THEIR album. This is MAMAMOO's evolution if you ask me - this is where they go from a great group to a downright phenomenal one.

So I could wax on all day about how phenomenal this project is, or I could actually SHOW you why. And hey, that's what this blog is for, so buckle the fuckle up and get ready to have your wig fly to Mars.

I mean it. Get some glue for that shit, you're gonna need it.

1. WHERE R U

Any time I'm listening to a MAMAMOO song, and I hear Solar say this at the beginning:

🌟🌙✨C O S M I C ✨🌙🌟

I IMMEDIATELY LOSE MY SHIT. 'CAUSE THEN YOU KNOW THE SONG IS GONNA BE GOOD.

Cosmic Girl (formerly Lucy from RaNia) and Cosmic Sound have worked with MAMAMOO as composers and lyricists for quite a while now. But I'm now at the point where I'm convinced - CONVINCED, I TELL YA - that they cannot make a bad song for the girls. And "Where R U" serves to continue that trend!

It honestly fits the title of the album really well; there's some plucked strings and marimba-like notes in the instrumental that feel so damn breezy and relaxing. As well as this, the song's tempo is slow, but not slow enough that you're bored with it. "Where R U" is a very bright, smile-inducing song if I'm being honest. I was grinning like the Cheshire Cat the first time I listened to it, it's just damn delightful. It also helps that all four members sound like honest-to-god angels here. And hey, any song where Moonbyul sings more is a good song in my book!

The lyrics carry this very light-hearted feel to them, as well - they match the song perfectly. They're very sweet and heartfelt, but with emphasis on a lot of minute details that are super charming. It's not often that MAMAMOO actually do a lovey-dovey song like this, but when it's done right, it's very effective. And yeah, that's absolutely the case here! I like the lyrics a lot.

Do you want to eat and watch a movie? Just the two of us? The corners of my lips are curling up just thinking about it

All in all, I don't have a single bad thing to say about this song. It serves as a great introduction to the album, since it's slow and breezy yet pleasant at the same time. It's the perfect sort of song for a really summery day, to be honest - not the sort of sound I thought MAMAMOO would nail like they did here, but damn! I'm impressed. And that's just the start of this album. Oh boy.

2. GOGOBEBE (고고베베) [TITLE]

Not gonna lie, leading up to this song's release, I actually listened to all of the teasers - which is something I very rarely do - and I got hyped. It all sounded a bit more hip-hop inspired than most of MAMAMOO's title tracks, and the vocals sounded out of this world (as per normal). So when the song actually came out, and it was THIS good? Yeah, I was floored from the word "go".

I remember reading an interview where the girls themselves said "Gogobebe" is "a term that means everyone should just play, go, and enjoy themselves". And yeah, that certainly comes across here! There's playful acoustic guitars scattered around the instrumental, some really bouncy synths, a STRONG bassline, and choruses that just fucking explode towards the end of the song. Seriously, this is the sort of song you'd blast at a party at 2am, and the entire room would start singing along - think "Mr. Brightside", but not on the same level of recognition, obviously. That shouty "뻔뻔하게 놀아 미친 듯이 즐겨" section in the choruses is AWESOME.

I feel like this is the first title track we've had where MAMAMOO get to show off their personalities a bit more, too? Like, we all know how upbeat and playful these lovable idiots are, but that's mainly shown off in their side tracks - like "Taller Than You" or "Sleep in the Car". But here, their personalities are on clear display. This is a song they can have fun with, and that absolutely comes across in both the MV and the live stages. And when the song is this contagious, it catches on fast - just listening to "Gogobebe" puts me in a really good mood!

The playful/party theme of the song is carried over really well into the lyrics, which are also about just enjoying yourself and not caring about what comes tomorrow. There are a few stellar lines in there though, especially in Wheein's introduction and Moonbyul's second rap - apparently Solar and Moonbyul both helped write the lyrics, and if that's the case, consider me very impressed! They're a really fun and uplifting. (Also "너와 나의 mix and match" is A DAMN GREAT LINE. Thank you very much.)

The people who talk too much Always die first in the movies So raise up your self-love

So the song and lyrics are great, but what about the choreography? Honestly, I feel like MAMAMOO haven't had that many stellar choreographies; they're more focused on their songs and performances. Which is completely fine, that's just their style - but I'll be damned if they didn't knock it out of the park for "Gogobebe".

NOTE: The choreography in the video below is mirrored, so it's actually the wrong way around! There isn't an official dance practice for this song, so this is the best I could find.

That's mainly because they got Mina Myoung from 1MILLION dance studio to do the choreography here; and her skill in choreographing shows massively. There's a lot of pretty complex footwork and fast movements here, and yet the girls look flawless doing it! My favourite part is honestly the "9 slash 6" section after that second chorus - MAMAMOO go OFF and I am living for it. There's just a lot of complex details and touches here that make the routine so fun and pleasing to watch - they all make it look so easy, too, which, hoo boi that's not the case once you learn it. It's tough, but in the way that I love!

And hey, the girls even visited the studio to perform it with Mina when she taught it for a class. That's adorable. 😄 (Also HOLY SHIT WHEEIN. GO OFF GIRL. MAIN DANCER COMING THROUGH.)

Yeah, "Gogobebe" was fucking amazing. It's definitely up there with MAMAMOO's best title tracks, if you ask me - it's got the right blend of charm and charisma yet some silliness as well, and if that doesn't sum up the girls I don't know what will. I really hope they keep this momentum going, cause goddamn, I'll be a proud Moomoo if they do. :,)

3. WAGGY (쟤가 걔야)

Not gonna lie, when I saw the title of this song for the first time, I immediately thought "CHOO CHOO JOKE SONG TERRITORY HERE WE COME". And while that isn't completely false, it's definitely not completely true either. The jokiness of this song comes across more in the live stages than the actual song itself, since "Waggy" is actually an adorable little love song! And when I say adorable, I mean ADORABLE. This shit nearly gave me a goddamn cavity.

Let me be clear when I say that cutesy songs like this normally aren't my thing - I often find that unless they do something unique with their cuteness, I'll be bored with them veeeeeery quickly. But thankfully, describing your crush like a little puppy who follows you everywhere is JUST the sort of unique charm I look for in these sorts of songs. It's a memorable metaphor, and IT'S JUST TOO DAMN CUTE, MAN.

There's also the fact that the song itself is infernally catchy; the drum beat matches how my head was bopping along when I listened to it for the first time! It's honestly very reminiscent of Animal Crossing for me, since the soundtrack in those games is very similar to "Waggy"; full of acoustic guitars, simple rhythms and nice little songs you hum the melody to every now and again. I'm... honestly quite disappointed that this didn't blow up amongst young kids like iKON's "Love Scenario" did - it's adorable, and not that complicated either! There's also the fact that when the girls try to be cute, it either works, or ends up being hilarious (for example: Solar's little animal impressions in that bridge. I was ROLLING).

The lyrics are certainly another one of this song's assets, if you ask me. This is already "Puppy Love: The Song", and the lyrics definitely fit that theme! I'd love to know if the girls were able to keep straight faces whilst recording this, because I feel like there would've been a few laughter fits here and there... But like I mentioned before, that comparison of your crush to a puppy is the best part of this song. Hands down. My heart has melted and I'm surprisingly okay with it. ALSO HWASA SINGING IN FRENCH HOLY FUCK.

Woof woof woof, follow me upstairs, puppy When you follow me around You're seriously so cute

Y'know what the cherry on top for this song is, though? The live performances. Go watch them and then try to tell me that MAMAMOO are a deadly serious group. Hwasa looks like the friend that got dragged into everything because she lost a bet, and it's hilarious. 😂

But I don't think there's much else I can say about "Waggy"! It's got the perfect mix of jokiness and cuteness to be memorable, and it's irresistibly fun to boot. And catchy. Seriously, I've had this stuck in my head for weeks. Help.

4. 25 (WHEEIN SOLO)

All I can say is: IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME.

A lot of Moomoos caught on quite quickly that each member would get one solo per album; Hwasa had a solo on Yellow Flower, Moonbyul had hers on Red Moon, and Solar had hers on Blue;S. BUT NOW IT'S WHEEIN'S TURN. If you ask me she's the most underappreciated member in MAMAMOO! And yet, while this doesn't live up to "Moderato", her other solo - but let's be real, what can - it's still a pretty solid track that acts as a nice interval to the album itself. And hey, Hash Swan isn't in this, so that already makes me happy! (Seriously, that guy's voice is insufferable... couldn't RBW have picked someone else???)

Similarly to "Where R U", "25" has a very chill, relaxed vibe going for it, with some atmospheric guitars and echoing vocals in the instrumental. I really like the triplet/sped-up rhythm of the lyrics in the verses, too - they give the song a nice bit of flavour where it's needed most. And obviously, the star here is Wheein; her vocals are no joke, she's the best vocalist in MAMAMOO in my opinion. But I do unfortunately feel like the song runs a bit short? It feels like she was hampered a bit, and I don't like that very much. She deserves her time to shine, too. But either way, she's still got a gorgeous voice, and she does get her chance to at least show that.

But aside from Wheein's voice, the lyrics to this song are my favourite thing about it. I never expected Wheein to take such a mature angle! And yes, she helped write the lyrics for this, go figure. Wheein actually talks about the topic of growing up, and trying not to lose your innocence and curiosity as you become an adult. She fully admits that growing up is, at times, not something she wants to do - she just wants to curl into a ball and not have to face adulthood. But eventually you get used to it - you adjust, you adapt, and you become more comfortable with the person you are (as well as who you'll be in the future). It's... surprisingly deep? Yet really, REALLY beautiful at the same time. They really changed my opinion on the song, actually! I went from being lukewarm on it to really, really liking it.

At times, I don't want to grow up Like the natural days I want to talk about it myself, but it's hard

"25" ultimately ended up being a song I really enjoyed - and yes, that's largely because of both Wheein's vocals and those amazing lyrics. The song itself does run a bit short, and I do still think it had a lot more room to develop, but what we got in the end is of an insane quality. Wheein should really try her hand at songwriting more, because if this is the sort of thing she's going to write, I'd love to hear what else she can come up with. 👌

5. BAD BYE

Ohhhhhh man, now we're getting into the part of this review where I just start to gush.

Everything we've had so far is either insanely high-quality, or memorable enough to become one of my favourite MAMAMOO songs - but now we're going into ballad territory. And THAT is where MAMAMOO apparently decided to step things up a notch, and turn this album from a good one into a great one.

All I can really say about "Bad Bye" is this: if you haven't done so already, listen to it. Just... listen. Sit there, listen to it in its entirety with no interruptions and preferrably a good pair of headphones, and just take it in. I can 100% GUARANTEE you that you will cry. Even if you've never been through a breakup, even if you can't understand the lyrics - that doesn't matter. I promise you, this song will leave you bawling. If you're not crying by the end, you'll certainly be close to it. And yes, that's largely because of the song itself and its execution, but what really put me over the edge was THE MOTHERFUCKING VOCALS.

People always categorise MAMAMOO as a "vocal group", right? Because of their power and technique, and the fact that pretty much all of the members can sing? I've always felt that title was fitting - but holy SHIT, this is taking it to a new level. Not only are Moonbyul's raps full of anger and raw emotion, Hwasa, Solar and Wheein fucking nail it vocally - THOSE ADLIBS, MAN. THOSE ADLIBS. They legitimately left me in tears here.

I cannot wait to see clips of this from their upcoming concerts, because if they sing this live? ...I may just collapse to be honest. "Bad bye" is so beautifully done, and so emotionally performed on the girls' part that it's breathtaking. And really, really damn heartbreaking, too. It's one hell of a sincere ballad. The instrumental has a part to play there too, because even though there are very skittery trap snares throughout, they never overpower the really emotional piano line - they never feel like a distraction, and they actually end up giving the song a good rhythmic base. But yeah, they're nothing but background to the girls' vocals, which are honestly some of the best in the industry. Fight me.

But if your heart wasn't broken from just listening to the song, don't worry! There's lyrics to help with that! Moonbyul once again helped on the writing here, and the lyrics end up being just as emotionally charged as the song and vocals. It's like the icing on top of a really depressing cake - but in a good way. There isn't a dull moment in them, they're as descriptive and heart-wrenching at the end as they were at the start.

Stop trying to comfort me now, I'm holding back tears I'm afraid of it being the end if I turn my back I can't go, I can't do it - tell me this isn't it

I could go on forever about "Bad bye", honestly. It's just... perfect in the saddest way possible. THIS is the sort of magic I look for in ballads; this has so much legitimate feeling and so many emotions to it that it makes you emotional regardless of whether or not you understand the words. I really didn't think they'd blow me away this much late into the album, but... man, was I wrong. As I'm typing this, their concert is taking place tonight (April 19th) - and I know I said it earlier, but I'm saying it again. I DESPERATELY need to see a live performance of this song. Please. 😭

Y'know what else I need a live performance of, though?

6. MY STAR

BITCH, YOU'RE ASKING ME TO PUT MY FEELINGS FOR THIS SONG INTO WORDS?

Hooooooooo man.

This song made me FEEL things, y'all. IT STILL DOES.

Again, once we were blessed with that "Cosmic" namecall at the beginning, I was excited. Really, really excited. I know Cosmic Girl & Sound make phenomenal MAMAMOO songs, so this was going to be great, right?

BITCH, WRONG. IT WAS GOING TO CHANGE YA DAMN LIFE.

We're only four months into the year. FOUR. MONTHS. And I may have found my side track of the year. Because "My star" is fucking insane. It, once again, left me in tears - but not because the song was emotional. I was in tears from how fucking shook I was whilst listening to this. This song goes haaaaaaaaaard. The bass and drumline in this song is SO damn powerful, the really creepy synths are right up my alley, the hand claps are hype as fuck, and THEM VOCALS. LET ME FUCKING TALK ABOUT THEM VOCALS. Because the girls all sound jaw-droppingly good, but... I need to call someone out real quick.

SOLAR.

MOTHERFUCKING KIM YONGSUN.

BITCH?!?!? WHERE WERE THESE VOCALS HIDING????

Did y'all even HEAR that fucking F6?! LIKE. FOR REAL?! KE$HA IS (majestically, like the queen she is) QUAKING.

Those adlibs... that was a fucking spiritual experience. My soul has left this plane of existence because of those high notes. Looks like she heard that I thought Wheein was the best vocalist in MAMAMOO and decided to fucking change my mind, good LORD.

Another huge thing for me is that this song has sustained my hype for it SO DAMN MUCH. Often, I'll love a song to death once I first hear it, but then it'll wear off over time. But "My star" is so good that that hasn't happened!! It is not only one of the best Cosmic tracks the girls have, but THE BEST B-side MAMAMOO have done. Period. It rivals "Midnight Summer Dream" from Red Moon for me.

And hey, speaking of "Midnight Summer Dream", this song also carries a creepy vibe! Now, unlike "Midnight Summer Dream", I don't think that creepy vibe is intended on "My star". But goddammit, read this song's lyrics and listen to those distorted/reversed synths during Solar's first verse, and tell me you don't immediately think 'stalker girlfriend'. This is a yandere anthem and y'all can't change my mind. IT'S CREEPY AND I LOVE IT. I really want to see a yandere MV for this. PLEASE, RBW. MAKE MY DREAMS COME TRUE.

But every time I breathe, [and] my heart is beating I can't feel it through you I wanna be your love

So don't mind me. I'm just going to go listen to this song for the millionth time and cry over how good it is. And also Solar's falsetto.

UPDATE [21/04/2019]:

THEY ACTUALLY FUCKING WENT AND PERFORMED IT LIVE.

The best video I can find of it right now is this Wheein fancam but I DON'T CARE. THEY ACTUALLY DID IT.

QUEEEEEEEEEEEEEENS.

7. 4SEASON (OUTRO)

...you know an outro is good when I want it to be a full song.

And that NEVER happens with me. I very rarely listen to intros/outros and go "huh, this would be nice as a full song". But that happened with "4season"! It's so nice and chill, literally perfect for listening to in a coffee shop of some sort. It's very short, of course, but the blaring synths and the trap snares actually make a really cool, atmospheric outro. And, as always, all four girls sound phenomenal. It's MAMAMOO, is that really surprising to you at this point?

Since the song is so short, the lyrics are going to be quite minimal as well. But the lyrics here remind me a lot of "Daydream" from Dreamcatcher's recent album - they seem to be a thank-you of sorts to the Moomoos. And I love stuff like that - it's super heartwarming when an idol/group does it, to be honest. If you're a Moomoo, you know how much MAMAMOO really do care for their fans, and that just makes this all the sweeter. :,)

One by one, build up [the] good memories and walk Walk together You and me

"4season" ultimately serves as both a great outro to "White Wind" as an album, and the '4 seasons, 4 colours" project as a whole! And godDAMN, what a way to end it. I wasn't kidding when I said this album is the best of the 4. It's skyrocketed its way to my list of favourite MAMAMOO albums, and I can't wait to own this physically. It's 100% worth it. 😊

ALL THE SOURCES FOR THE ENGLISH LYRICS I USED IN THIS REVIEW: Where R U Gogobebe (고고베베) Waggy (쟤가 걔야) 25 (Wheein Solo) Bad bye My star 4season (Outro)

COVER IMAGE CREDITS: Wind transparent background by KissPNG

[amememightywarrior]

[fanfic] The Echo, chapter 2

In which Ameme spends a whole day in Coerthas running errands and discovering she’s crazy.

Trigger warnings: needless slaughter of wildlife, really terrible art

I awoke the next morning to the soft noises of chocobos scratching at the straw in their stalls. I rolled over and grimaced as the sharp ends of the straw pile serving as my bed poked me in the cheek. The thick fur blanket I had found among my supplies covered my body completely, and once I poked my fingers out of its safety, I was inclined to keep it that way. It was absolutely freezing outside.

“Kweh! Kweh!” cried one of the chocobos.

A soft male voice addressed it with amusement. “You're awake, I take it? Shh, there are people sleeping in the barn still...”

I scootched the blanket's edge around until I could see. Adventurer lodging was the best in Camp Dragonhead: the loft area in the stables. We got the softest straw—there was only one softness—and it was surprisingly warm, but I could still see my breath as I peered into the early morning gloom. I was at the edge of the loft, so I could see a silver-haired Elezen man stroking the head of the only black chocobo there. If I had to guess, the man must have been the lord in charge of the camp, Haurchefant. His voice seemed much lower, though. Soothing, really. I watched sleepily as he fed the chocobo a treat, saddled it, and walked it out of the barn. Morning ride, I thought.

Goobbue rolled over with a sigh. “Wish he'd talk like that all the time,” she said. “Can you imagine that voice in your ear—”

“Thal's balls, Goobbue, shut up,” Essenta groused. “Soluvrain not paying you enough attention or something?”

There was a grunt at the other end of the loft. Soluvrain evidently did not think much of that comment. Goobbue said, “A girl can appreciate a nice voice, that's all I'm saying!”

“Sounds more like you're about to start trying to climb the wrong tree, if you know what I mean.”

“Essenta...”

Essenta threw her thin pillow at Goobbue. “Don't Essenta me! Oi, Ameme. Word to the wise: Don't even try to touch any of the Ishgardians round here. If they don't think you're some exotic animal, then they've got enough baggage to sink a barge. Lord Haurchefant's no exception. He might act like yer the most delightful thing he's ever seen, but that's as far as you'll want to get. Trust me, it ain't worth it.”

The floorboards creaked as Moonlight River sat up. “All right, that's enough listening to girl talk,” he said. “Breakfast and morning exercises, anyone? That'll be the warmest we'll be 'til lunch time.”

I couldn't have agreed more, since I had next to no interest in anyone that way even if that was allegedly the entire reason I had traveled back in time. With much yawning, I got dressed under my blanket. One of my sleeves was home to a guest. Midgardsormr nearly gave me a heart attack when he chomped on my fingers as I stuck my arm through. I shoved him out the other end and judged him silently with my eyes. He huffed and faded from view. My fingers throbbed. He'd left a neat arc of red indentations, the little bastard, but at least he hadn't broken skin. The thick hem of my sleeves hid my fingers easily enough. I left the warm refuge of my blanket and packed all my things neatly to stow in the corner. The others were gone by the time I finished getting dressed.

The chocobos warked at me in a friendly fashion as I slid down the ladder. They were a well-trained bunch, these birds, but they were slightly intimidating as a group just because most were meant for Elezen riders. They towered over me. The two at the end of the row were the absolute sweetest birds, though. They put their heads over the stall doors for beak rubs and I obliged.

I wandered around Camp Dragonhead in confusion after breakfast until I spotted several late knights running into what I had dubbed the strategy room, where the lord's desk sat. I followed them and found the room filled with shirtless men and women wearing thin cotton tabards to preserve modesty. My adventuring compatriots were similarly clad and shivering. It looked like every single knight on day shift was in here.

“Ameme!” Goobbue called, waving at me. “C'mere! We're about to get started. You might want to ditch the fur.”

As I shed my warmest layers, Haurchefant bounded into the room. I could almost feel the enthusiasm radiating off him as he pulled off his haubergeon. “Attention!” he shouted. The knights snapped upright and saluted him in unison. The adventurers were rather more lackadaisical about it. I stood there like a dope. Goobbue nudged me until I clumsily copied everyone else. Haurchefant took no notice. “Good morn to all of you!” he said. “I've the most delightful tidings! The latest shipment of coffee beans has arrived and a fresh batch of coffee is brewing as we speak.” He beamed as the knights made pleased noises. “Of course, nothing wakes the body up more than exercise,” he added. “Squats, three sets!”

I didn't know what a set was, so I decided to just copy Goobbue until she stopped. Haurchefant joined the ranks of the knights with great excitement. Since I was just behind the end of the knights, he ended up in front of me. I found myself staring at his back muscles as he swung his arms back and forth. It was a good thing he had a thick skirt on, otherwise I would've also been staring at his ass, too. That would've been inappropriate and not a little weird.

Goobbue completed her squats and shook her arms out. I stretched my legs. Haurchefant called out, “Sit-ups, three sets!” And once those were done: “Push-ups, three sets!” I was starting to feel a bit toasty. That was when Haurchefant threw a surprise my way. “Dragoon squats, ten of them!” he called cheerily.

“Ten!” groaned Essenta. “You tyrant! I thought these were warm-ups, not kill-me-before-dawn-ups!”

“Essenta, my friend, 'tis after dawn,” Haurchefant said, turning to face us. “Ameme, have you ever done dragoon squats? They are as follows.” He dropped to the floor for a push-up, jumped to his feet, and did a leap combined with a phantom spear throw. “That's one.”

I had figured they would be more difficult. I did the ten, with Haurchefant happily following along and saying things like 'Splendid jump!' and 'If I didn't know better, I would think you were a master of the lance!' He was the only one other than me who was not too out of breath to speak after ten dragoon squats. It was hard for me to tell if his praise was genuine or just shameless flattery. He was just so over the top about everything, you know?

“Take a break,” he said when everyone was done. “Is it not invigorating to start off the morning sweating?!”

Essenta muttered something uncomplimentary under her breath.

“Rather than our usual ending routine, I thought I'd try something different,” Haurchefant said. “Ser Moiroix! Have you not learnt a new dance during your last leave? Come teach us!”

The singled-out knight groaned. “My lord, did I not also mention I was terrible at it?”

“Then you must needs practice,” said Haurchefant. “After all, dexterity of the feet is as necessary to battle as a good, strong core! One cannot fight dragons if one constantly trips!”

Moiroix, red in the face, came to the front of the pack and clumsily tried to teach everyone some sort of stately ballroom dance. Haurchefant got on her case about incorrect footwork. I got a bad case of second-hand embarrassment. On the upside, I learned a new dance.

“You're from up north somewhere, aren't you?” Goobbue asked me, a bit too loudly. “Know any exotic dances?”

I cringed mentally as Haurchefant's head turned in my direction. “I don't know about exotic,” I said. “They're definitely not ballroom dances.”

“Let's see them!” she said.

“I don't remember them very well,” I said. Or at all, actually. I just remembered that I knew some dances. I didn't remember the dances themselves.

Haurchefant rescued me when he announced, “Warm-ups are over! Coffee is available in the mess hall.” He bounded over to me, looking like he'd already had at least three cups of coffee. “Ameme! 'Tis your first full day with us. I pray you slept well! Adventurers report to Ser Hourlinet, in case you were unaware, but should you ever run into any urgent issues, pray come to me directly.” He paused, looking me up and down. “Your armor is highly unusual,” he said.

I looked down at myself. I had chain leggings and plated boots of an intricate design. My gloves were colorful and feathered. Hell if I knew where they came from. “I pick up pieces here and there,” I said. “From the fallen bodies of my enemies, usually.” I held my arms up to show the feathered gloves. “This...was a gift from some crafters.” Maybe. I couldn't recall much.

“Fascinating!” he said. “Well, I know the top to be in the style of the skyraiders. The boots are most unusual and I cannot place them.” He pointed at my legs. “These, though, appear to be Ishgardian knight's trousers.”

This was a pop quiz I did not like. I touched the chain part of the leggings and tried to remember.

—The keep was frozen over, its halls patrolled by ice sprites and the living dead. I stood in the corner with a torn journal page in hand, reading the sorrow of a man who no longer wanted to see his children for shame of what he had become. In the corner, I found a chest full of spare equipment. My own had been shredded in my fights with the keep's undead residents—

“Found these at an abandoned outpost in a chest,” I said. “It was...haunted. By zombies.” I shuddered.

“Forgive me, it seems I have dredged up a bad memory,” said Haurchefant. “I pray the boots are less horrific in origin!”

I raised an eyebrow at him. He was grilling me in the most friendly fashion, and no wonder. My outfit must have made him highly suspicious. I angled one foot so he could look at the intricate design. Where were these from...? Hmm...ahh. “I snuck into a Garlean outpost for food and stole someone's boots,” I said. “I used the rest of her outfit, too, but returned everything else.”

Haurchefant stooped to study them. “These are Garlean?” he asked with some surprise. “They're most unusual, then. Quite beautiful, really.”

“I think the Empire's armor designers were inspired by the things they found in the Far East,” I said. “That was where I was when I got these.”

“The Far East!! My friend, you are truly well-traveled! I should like to hear of your adventures one day!” He straightened and regarded me with a warm smile. “In fact, why don't you—”

“Seigneur Haurchefant!” called someone from the other side of the room.

Haurchefant, still talking, turned to see who wanted his attention. “—join me some time for lunch—Oui, Inquisiteur?”

A woman in long white and blue robes waved at him. “Avec moi, s'il vous-plait!”

“Un moment, madame! Pardon me, ladies, but it seems duty calls. I pray your day goes well!” He gave us a courtly bow and strode away to the inquisitor to see what she wanted.

Goobbue, Essenta, and I exchanged glances. Essenta said, “You are now the prime exotic animal, shipped in from the Far East.”

“Essenta!” Goobbue scolded. “Really! Just because Lord Haurchefant likes hearing stories...” She turned to me. “Did you really steal your boots from an Imperial soldier?”

“Thought it was a good idea at the time, but then again I was starving,” I said with a shrug. “They don't feed their soldiers very well, either.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Ew. Not a surprise. They're all savages over there. All right, let's report to Ser Hourlinet.”

She and Essenta headed for a man in a yellow overcoat surrounded by adventurers. Hourlinet was the efficient sort, I could see. He had everyone's tasks scheduled in a neat little grid, including mine. Goobbue was runner for the day – she grimaced at this, since it meant a lot of travel – while Essenta got assigned to guard some porters. Soluvrain and Moonlight River got firewood duty. As for me, someone had creatively tasked me with 'ridding the immediate area of nuisance creatures', which meant feral crocs. That was my only task all day.

“Are you sure she should do that alone?” Moonlight River asked. “Mayhap Soluvrain could—”

“Given what I have seen her do, she is likely more than equal to this task,” Hourlinet said. “Now, with the storm strengthening, I would suggest we all set about our respective tasks with alacrity.” He turned to the rest of the adventurers.

“I don't think the pay's worth your life,” Moonlight River said to me. “Say the word and I'll come help.”

“It's fine,” I said. “I'll see you later.” I headed out. Time to get a real warm-up.

~*~

I stood over the latest carcass, panting hard. Blood dripped off the blade of my axe slowly, already beginning to freeze mere seconds after its forcible extraction from the vessel. Feeling oddly out of sorts, I scooped up handfuls of snow and began cleaning everything. The space around me turned pink. Only when I glanced idly at the dead wolf did I notice the sunset had turned the snow orange.

Have I been out here all day? I wondered. Best head back. I'm hungry...I think.

My killing spree had ended at the top of a hill. I gazed down at the trail of death and destruction I had left with a bit of a sick feeling in my stomach. “Midgardsormr,” I said, “how long have I been out here?”

The tip of one wing brushed my cheek as my dragonet companion dropped onto my shoulder. «Sunrise to sunset,» he said. «Oft didst thou lose thyself to excess bloodshed in the end. That thou hast returned to thyself in the span of a single sun is a great improvement. Come, let us return to the sons of Ishgard. The native fauna has been terrorized enough for one day.»

“I...yes, that's a good idea,” I said, struck by both my apparent ability to kill mindlessly for hours and Midgardsormr thinking this was better than before. “I'm really broken, aren't I? I thought coming back fixed me. This is not normal!”

«To heal will take time,» he replied. «To rewind time for a single mortal is miracle enough without asking for that which broke the world to be fixed without recompense. Go, champion. They will not mind a little blood.»

I spent a few more minutes cleaning my boots and furs before heeding his command. The knights I passed greeted me with raised hands and bobbing heads. The sun was long gone when I reached the gates of Camp Dragonhead.

“There you are!” said the guard. “We wondered if you had met an untimely demise in the jaws of a croc. Report to Ser Hourlinet, if you will. You might find some leftover food if you're nice to Medguistl.”

I thanked him and trudged through the courtyard. The knights regularly shoveled inside the outpost, which was a blessing because it meant I wasn't tracking pink snow for all to see. Of course, the number of people outside now that the temperature was now well below zero was close to zilch anyway. Lighted windows and torches showed me the way through the central arch.

The sound of someone beating the stuffing out of a training dummy distracted me from my pensive march. I veered off course to investigate. The training area held only a single torch, leaving half the area in shadow. I saw long silver hair gleaming in the firelight, bouncing to and fro. As I drew close, I could make out the body attached to the hair. It was an Elezen man, and one who could jump absurdly high at that. I watched as he vaulted into the air, stretched to his full length, and hurled a black spear at the training dummy. The thin blade pierced the heart of the dummy with ease. The man landed practically on top of it, ripped his spear out, and did a few graceful spins. Then, with a full grasp on the mechanics of coolness, he twirled the spear to rest the butt on the ground in an at-ease position.

“Eavesdroppers and spies shall be taken as new training dummies,” he said, not turning around.

I blinked and looked from side to side. Who...? Oh, he was talking to me. Well, that was rude! I frowned at his back.

He turned to glare at me. His eyes were surprisingly dark for an Elezen of Ishgardian birth. His hair could have used a trim. What might have once been bangs now brushed his nose and even in the dark of night I could see his split ends were out of control. He hmphed at me, his glare acquiring a contemptuous air. “A coin-starved adventurer, back from her errand,” he said. “Hardly worth the trouble. Run along, girl, unless you want to take on my lance.”

That was even ruder! I wasn't a girl, I was a woman! And his lance wasn't even that impressive! More importantly, something about him was very, very familiar.

He wasn't in the mood to deal with me. Rather than keep talking, he spun his lance and leapt high into the air. Like a diving falcon, he aimed for my heart.

Oh, so he's serious about using me as a dummy, I thought.

Curious, I chose to block his attack rather than dodge. His lance was sturdier than it looked and his reaction time was excellent. The blade did not break when it glanced off my axe. The man landed with one foot on the flat of my blade and used it to propel himself out of reach. Unsurprisingly, his landing was as light as a butterfly despite the ice and snow covering the ground.

He hummed thoughtfully, swinging his weapon out to the side to prepare his next move. “Interesting,” he said. “I take it you've volunteered to be my training dummy.” He darted forward. I dodged in the nick of time. Damn, he was fast when he decided to use those legs of his to cover distance rather than altitude. I blocked several of his graceful sweeping blows easily and tried to figure out his fighting style. He wore light chainmail and no head cover, but as I studied him, I discovered he had absolutely no openings. The only time he opened himself up even a sliver was at the very top of his massive jumps, and there was no way I would be able to reach him up there.

He found me to be a tough opponent, too. All of his strikes had become cautious after that first attack, mostly aimed testing my defenses. The main issue for him was that his style had massive telegraphs due to the length of his weapon and the constant grip adjustments he had to do. Yes, it would hurt if he made contact...but he would have to get through my axe first.

I redirected my attention to his feet. Maybe if I...ohhh, yes, that was a good plan...although I was banking on him not knowing any hand-to-hand techniques and that he wasn't seriously planning on killing me...

He tried to skewer me again, this time with more intent than before. I twisted my hips to the side, just barely avoiding both the lance blade and the secondary winglike blade on one side. He was just within arms' length now. Maybe he thought he had me, because I could see him smirking and the muscles of his body bracing to pull the lance backwards. I slammed my axe vertically into the dirt. The handle locked the lance up by way of the winglike blade.

Ah. So he was actually trying to kill me. Good to know. I released my axe and put one hand on his wrist. His smirk turned to surprise as I ducked under his arms and slammed my fist into his gut. Not exactly the brightest move—the guy had abs of steel under the chainmail—but it took him surprise. He sort of bent over, either in reaction or just to keep track of me, and transferred to a one-handed grip on his lance. I cheerfully dragoon-jumped my head right into his chin. He made a bitten-off noise of surprise and reared back. Then, because he was a seasoned fighter, he adapted to the sudden close quarters by trying to punch me in the head. I ducked. The sound of metal scraping metal alerted me to the fact that he had slid his lance up to get it off my axe handle. I darted away and retrieved my weapon once he had backed up. We watched each other guardedly.

“You don't fight on the ground much, do you?” I asked when he made no move to attack again.

He snorted. “No. Mayhap I will after this, if only to spar with you again.”

I growled at him. “Is it sparring when you're actively trying to skewer me?”

The man found this hilarious. He let the tip of his lance drop as he laughed heartily. “That last move was a bit much considering your armor,” he said. “I would apologize, but as the bruise on my jaw will attest, you can more than hold your own in such situations.”

“Luckily for you.”

“Indeed, though given our earlier dancing, I suspected your level of skill was far higher than I previously assumed.” He waved a finger at the sky as Elezen were wont to do when they wanted to emphasize something. “I would end our sparring match here, my lady, as there are places I must be ere the morrow. First, though, I would have your name. 'Tisn't often I come across an opponent such as yourself.”

I decided he was a little on the weird side, as far as Ishgardians went. “Ameme,” I said. “Who are you?”

“Estinien,” he replied. “I shall remember your name, Ameme.” He gave me a curt nod, strapped his lance to his back, and jumped his crazy ass over the wall of the outpost without another word.

What the hell was that? I asked myself. If that was the guy I'd come back to save...I would have to tell myself I had terrible taste in men.

“Ameme!”

I jumped at the fluting male voice behind me. Haurchefant came striding across the courtyard. Some part of me relaxed when I saw him. “Hello, I'm back,” I said when he arrived in front of me.

“Yes, so I see,” he said. “When you did not report back by lunch, I confess Ser Hourlinet grew rather worried. Where have you been?”

I pointed vaguely in the direction of my activities. “I was killing feral crocs as assigned,” I said.

He raised an eyebrow. “All day?”

“Oh, no,” I said. “I ran out of crocs, you see...so I started on the wolves...I think there may have been some ice sprites, too.” I noticed my fingers getting fidgety with my axe handle and stilled them.

“Ah,” said Haurchefant. “And upon your return, you chose to get into a fight with the Azure Dragoon?”

I stared at him, wondering if I was about to get in trouble.

He sucked in a breath. “Ameme...”

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I was just watching him beat up the training dummy and he decided that meant I wanted to fight.”

Haurchefant laughed. “Oh, that is no surprise,” he said. “The Azure Dragoon is, shall we say...not a sociable sort of man.” He shook his head. “No, that is not what I wanted to say. Ameme! You are magnificent!”

I stared some more. Was that code for me being in trouble?

“To think, you were hard at work all day ridding the land of dangerous beasts, only to return and go axe-to-lance with the Azure Dragoon! And with such grace! I've never seen aught like it! You are truly, exceptionally strong, with unbelievable stamina!” He gestured excitedly as he spoke.

“Ah,” I said, blinking.

He picked up on my confusion and abruptly calmed himself. “After all that work, you must certainly be hungry,” he said. “I have taken the liberty of asking Medguistl to prepare a late dinner for you. Pray partake of it and take tomorrow off to rest. Come!” He led me to the kitchens and spent the entire time I waited for food recounting what he had seen and asking questions about this or that technique.

“What's an Azure Dragoon?” I asked when he managed to stop long enough to drink the orange juice Medguistl the chef gave him.

“Ah, I had forgotten you are new to the region,” Haurchefant said. “Pray forgive me. The Azure Dragoon is a title given to the strongest and wisest member of the order of dragoons. Among all Azure Dragoons past and present, Estinien Wyrmblood is considered exceptional.”

“He does jump pretty high,” I allowed. “So he just shows up to beat on training dummies?”

Haurchefant had a little laughing fit at the 'jumps pretty high' line. “I know not why he was here,” he said after recovering. “From what I have heard, the man comes and goes as he pleases. He has also thoroughly rejected Ishgardian high society, despite his status. I find him quite an interesting character, truth be told. I daresay you'll find him a far more difficult opponent should you fight him again. He is known for his ability to adapt to other fighting styles.”

Well, that was great. What if I didn't want to fight him again? But figuring out how to get the better of him had been pretty exciting, not to mention a far sight better than mindlessly killing animals.

“Is aught amiss?” Haurchefant asked, frowning. I shook my head. “Hmm. Yet you look as though something weighs heavily on your mind. Pray tell me. Did you not wish to fight the Azure Dragoon?”

“It's not that,” I said. To tell him, or...? I remembered Midgardsormr saying that healing took time. How did one heal unrelenting blood lust? “I just...lost time today.”

“How so?”

I looked away. “I remember what I was doing,” I said. “It's just that I...I lost track of myself all day...and all I did was kill...”

Haurchefant studied me silently. “I see,” he said. “Would you say this was a state of mind?”

I shrugged. “I stopped thinking, that was the problem. I don't want to do that kind of thing, but...” I waved a hand aimlessly. “I shouldn't be doing that. It's not normal. I'm not just a killing machine or a weapon. I'm a person. I...” Who was I talking to? It wasn't Haurchefant. “I'm a person,” I finished, feeling stupid.

Haurchefant reached across the table to grip my hand. “Forgive me for being too forward, but I must speak my thoughts,” he said. “Ameme. You are neither killing machine nor weapon. Though slaying those beasts has helped us, I would rather you put your considerable skills to use in ways that do not make you think you are nothing more than a tool. To that end, I shall ensure Ser Hourlinet assigns you more peaceful tasks.”

“I'll do them,” I said. “Someone has to go around killing things. It may as well be me since I'm so good at it.”

“I will not hear of it,” Haurchefant said. “Ameme, you are not a tool! You are a person, splendid fighter though you are. Now, finish this excellent meal and go to bed. Tomorrow you will have no assignments. Pray use that time to gather your thoughts and realize you are more than the sum of what you kill.” He patted my knuckles and released my hand.

Haurchefant is a nice guy, but he definitely doesn't know me, I thought. Fighting was all I did. Nothing he said would change that.

...but...

Maybe he was right, in a way. Maybe I could do more than just fight. No, I would do more than just fight. I had to if I wanted to stay sane. I would become the person he imagined I was.

“Let us speak of less serious things,” Haurchefant said. “Tell me more of your adventures in the Far East! I would not dare to imagine I know much of the world past Eorzea.”

“I didn't spend much time there,” I said a bit nervously. What was I supposed to tell him? I didn't remember.

“But surely you were there long enough to know something of the food!” he said.

Oh gods...what did I eat over there? Sushi? “Raw fish on rice,” I said.

“What?!”

“There was a lot of sea food...”

He leaned forward, fascinated. The more I talked, the more I remembered the little details. I even recalled climbing onto curved roofs and running around a port town, as well as being yelled at by men in yukata for doing so. It was a struggle to describe yukata to someone who had never seen them, but Haurchefant was somehow enthusiastic about the idea anyway.

Anyway, it was very nice chatting with someone who just wanted to hear stories. He was a busy man, so I also appreciated the amount of time he took just to talk to me. When I was finished eating, he thanked me for sharing my experiences and bade me good night before rushing off to do something or other—he mentioned reports—and leaving me all by my lonesome. I made sure to thank Medguistl for the food before I dragged myself to the chocobo stables for the night.

[memoriesofyccjungrk]

mga season 4 episode 3 ― 2011 classics team round

#4007 ― choi yoojung  •  tell them by block b   •  line distribution @rkxmnho, @rkxseola, @rkmg, @wonshikrk

names were called one-by-one, and yoojung couldn't help but expect it. she couldn't help but try and prepare herself for when her name was finally called ― because all the people who were leaving were just as talented as she was, so she was probably going with them. it would only make sense, after all. judges explained the shortcomings of each, why they were leaving the show, and yoojung was waiting. because one-by-one talented former contestants were called, and yoojung knew she would be among them ― she just didn't want to cry. she'd already looked like an idiot when they'd called her name, she couldn't possibly look like an idiot again and just start sobbing because she was going home. so, she was waiting and trying to blink fast enough to keep her eyes from watering too much ― enough that it would've been noticeable that she was trying not to cry.

she even had it all planned out ― when her name was called ( in yoojung's eyes, it was definitely a when, not an if ) yoojung would give a graceful smile, bow, and leave as she was expected to ― as the contestants before her. it would be fine, she would be perfectly fine ― disappointed, but fine.

so, when the ceos announced that they were calling their final name, and that she wasn't leaving, yoojung was surprised ― no, surprised was an understatement. but it was hard to let it settle in. it was hard, because yoojung never expected to make it past auditions. she never expected to actually make it on the big screen ― and when she'd made it through the first auditions, it felt like a dream. had it not been from somi and doyeon's persistence with their own routines, yoojung may have thought she imagined even auditioning for the mgas. she hadn't even expected to make it this far ― so, how could she have expected to make it to the third episode ?

maybe it wasn't that big of a feat for some, but for yoojung, who had worried over her performance profusely, barely slept  ( and, when she did, it was on a cot she found in the studio ), and hardly eaten in order to make it as perfect as it was ― and she didn't even believe it was anywhere near perfect. she was sure the surprise was written fairly clearly on her face as she stared up at the ceos as their next task was explained.

team battle.

of course yoojung was nervous ― she wasn't particularly good with people, and even when she was, she was still awkward at first meeting. especially with people so tall. yoojung approached her group meekly, the rest already have met up before yoojung finally pushed her way through the others. she gave them a soft smile and bow ― she'd studied all the profiles before actually coming onto the show, and knew them well enough to know that almost everyone was older than her ― not by much, but still older. she also knew, from watching each member's performances, that they were all also incredibly talented. yoojung tried not to think about how terrified she was for this competition as she introduced herself, voice soft compared to the other's ― “ hello, i'm choi yoojung ― or, #4007. ” she chuckled lightly, glancing away. “ i'm excited to work with you all ! i promise i'll work hard along side all of you. ”

the real discomfort doesn't seem to settle in until she takes a step up to the trc building the next day, in anticipation for their first practice together. something about it didn't seem real. while yoojung had always dreamed of walking into a company's building, she never really expected herself doing just that ― especially not trc. not that it really meant anything, but who just thinks they're going to get the opportunity to walk into the building for a tour or something ? certainly not yoojung. she stood there, staring up at the building for far too long, before she finally took a few meek steps inside, smiling kindly over at the receptionist who pointed yoojung the right way. she wasn't the first to arrive in the studio, which made yoojung feel a little bit better, but she wasn't the last ― which meant that maybe they were the crazy ones for arriving so early ?

as she waited, yoojung admired the spacious studio, which was much bigger than her own back at image, and did a little bit of fancy footwork as a way of testing the floors, as well as stretching herself out. while she was unsure if they'd be learning any choreography the first day, yoojung wasn't totally opposed ― not to mention, she'd been dancing for weeks straight, at this point. it would be odd if she didn't dance at least once that day.

once the other members arrive, yoojung replaced her pensive expression with a brighter one as they all reintroduce themselves and get to work deciding on a song. being a group comprised primarily of males ( some of which who weren't really too fond of a cuter or girlier concept ), yoojung and seola are almost forced to comply to doing a boy band song ― although, neither could really complain when they watched block b's stage of 'tell them'. the vote was quick and unanimous, and they were all able to move on to decide on line distribution. somewhere along the line seola was decided on as their leader, being that she was the only one who really wanted the title, and it wasn't like she wasn't willing to listen to the other members if they had something to say. for the most part, everyone in the group was seeming to get along, and by the end of the day they had everything decided on so they could get to work the next day.

that night was probably the only one in which any members of the group went home.

once all members were present, they began work on choreography. yoojung, who had been watching videos and beginning to learn the choreography herself the night before, was able to run through it more with those who hadn't taken the opportunity ― although, most of them caught on pretty quickly. being that their group was comprised of strong dancers, the routine wasn't particularly difficult for any of them to learn, and they were running through it within a few hours of being in the studio. the only sound that rang through the room was the member's heavy footfalls as they ran practices over and over and over again.

as the song came to an end for what seemed like the thousandth time, yoojung was glad that each member seemed as motivated as she felt. that, for the most part, they all had the same work ethic, and were all willing to put as much as they could into each run through. when seola called for break, exclaiming something about making sure to stay hydrated and to eat something, yoojung stumbled over to her bag on tired feet and pulled out her lyric sheet.

the dancing was something yoojung had down, something she wasn't worried about whatsoever because she was yoojung. she'd been a dance instructor for the past year, was previously a part of a dance crew back home for several years, and couldn't remember a time when she wasn't dancing. no, the dance part, yoojung was sure she had down, especially comparing block b's choreography with some of the performances she had done herself. rapping was different.

was she more comfortable rapping ? of course she was. after all, yoojung knew that her voice was no gift to human kind, and that if she were to attempt it would hinder more than help. considering that most of the members of the group were rappers, yoojung hadn't really been expecting much in terms of lines ― after all, wonshik, mingyu, and minho were all so much more talented than she was. however, when they'd decided on lines, the other members had liked her flow. or, maybe, it was just because she would've cried if she'd gone up on stage and sang ― but they gave her lines. sure, she didn't have the most, but she had enough to make her feel like something was clawing at her chest whenever she looked at it. her first day, yoojung had made the mistake of highlighting them in a bright orange highlighter which only made her eyes burn when she looked at the paper anymore. because, as much as yoojung liked to rap, she wasn't really a rapper. did she want to be ? sure.

but wanting to rap didn't make her a rapper.

no matter how hard yoojung practiced her lines, she felt as if she were lacking in comparison ― no matter what the other members of her group told her, yoojung felt as if she were dragging them behind. by the time they were practicing with vocals, the others seemed far more refined than yoojung herself felt. she had no idea how seola and wonshik's voices were so stable while they sang out their parts; wasn't sure how mingyu and minho could spit out their verses as if it were second nature to them; wasn't sure how she was supposed to look that natural on stage.

so, when yoojung wasn't dancing or working with the group, she was off by herself trying not to cry as she stared at her lyric sheet. occasionally, she would disappear from the studio when everyone else was asleep because she was worried about the few lines she had, and didn't want to disturb anyone else while they were trying to rest for at least a few hours before they went right back to practicing. it wasn't even like her parts were terribly difficult ― they were repetitive, after all. she sang the same thing twice, and it only changed once, but it felt stilted. maybe it was her nerves ― or maybe it was that she was going to be compared to mingyu and minho. it made her nervous that it was the only skill she had ― had she not been put into this particular group, she may have gotten unlucky and had to do more than just a few lines here and there. so, even though her lines were few and not terribly hard, yoojung still worried.

she was out of her element, was the problem. or, that was what she kept convincing herself of. because, really, she didn't have anything else to fall back on. while yoojung was a dancer, that wasn't all it took to be an idol ― that wasn't all it took to be a trainee. and while she understood, if she ever got a contract, she would have to train her stills regardless ― she also understood that to even become a trainee, she'd need to exhibit more than one skill.

yoojung isn't sure that she ever worked so hard on the vocals for any song in her life ― mostly because, she really wasn't a vocal performer. or, at least, she hadn't tried to be before. her tongue occasionally got twisted as she rapped, causing her to fumble ― much to her anguish ― but she wasn't willing to let it deter her. once yoojung surpassed the self-pity, she decided to suck it up and walked up to minho and asked him for help. he'd been sympathetic, although yoojung wasn't quite sure that he understood her hesitation and worries ― not that she voiced them all, but that wasn't his fault. but he was willing to help ― and that was all yoojung needed.

it was probably then that she realized she could actually ask for help when needed. being so used to doing things on her own and caring for herself, she was starting to get used to being confused when other people were actually there for her. and maybe yoojung had been particularly lucky to be put with the group she was with, because each member was more than willing to take care of one another. there were too many nights they'd all ended up at some twenty-four hour restaurant together, recalling something that happened in practice and laughing hysterically; or when they'd be taking a minute break before continuing their practice, and they'd all just be normal for a moment. just a moment, before they all had their game-faces back on. but, yoojung had learned to love her fellow members ― they were all laid back in a way, but serious when it came to practicing and performing. yoojung appreciated being put with such like-minded people, and was sure she was caught staring in admiration at each of the members at several points throughout their practices. her eyes practically shined as she stared up at minho after he had begun helping her not stumble over every other word, simply from nerves.

what she had probably learned most from her fellow members was to have a little more confidence in herself. she could fake it on stage, she knew, but when she had rapped the first few times when they'd started, her voice shook. it wasn't like she was that bad ― she was well aware that there were plenty of others who had less skill than her, but that didn't make it any easier for her. but if she just told herself she could do it, if she thought about what minho had told her about her lines, yoojung began to relax just slightly. all she really needed to think was that she wasn't the worst they had ever heard. she knew she would be at least decent ― wouldn't she ?

anxiety didn't settle as they continued working through their performances. yoojung's instructor's eye had been helpful as they began paying more attention to the details of the performance, even adjusting herself to match the rest of the group. while most the small tweaks had been noticed by the other members, yoojung was proud of herself when she felt comfortable enough to call out other things that needed fixed ever so slightly. she was even more proud of herself when she knew they weren't offended by her mentioning the adjustments that needed made.

by tuesday night, the group was running perfectly synchronized rehearsals. yoojung wasn't sure there was anything better than the sound of their feet hitting the floor in perfect tandem on each landing. the domino effect some of the parts had were pleasing to watch ― each member across from the other moving at exactly the right time ― exactly the right way.  yoojung loved the feeling when a routine finally came together. she couldn't help the feeling of satisfaction that bubbled up in her chest as they moved together. they were a far-cry from the dysfunction they'd been only two days ago ― and it made yoojung smile.

smooth rehearsals lead to good relationships among the group, so it came as no surprise that they were all on-board when seola stated their last day, while they would definitely be running rehearsals for most of the day, they'd take a short break to commend themselves on a job well done. regardless of whether or not they won this thing, they worked hard, and they were putting themselves out on the stage with a product they were all proud of ― all five of them could attest to that, yoojung was sure. she had to convince herself that it wasn't selfish that she was mostly immensely proud of herself for the work she'd done herself ― and that she wasn't stammering through her verses anymore.

stage rehearsals brought on an entirely new feeling of anxiety.

seeing all the other groups made everything suddenly real, and yoojung felt her chest tightening again; for the past week, while yoojung was well aware of what they were practicing for, she didn't have to think of it as a competition. it was just friends getting together to learn a performance to a group they loved ― but that wasn't what they were. that wasn't the reason they had barely left the trc building in the week they were allotted to spend there. that wasn't the reason she had worked so hard to not to exactly what she ended up doing when it came to rehearsals ― and that was when yoojung had finally cried for the first time. the members had tried to comfort her, but all yoojung could manage to get out was “ but i've been working so hard … ” before she burst out in tears once more.

with memories of warm tears running down her face, fingers blotting her face as to try and keep at least some of the makeup on her face ( she didn't ), were fresh in her mind as team d was finishing off their performance. yoojung's chest felt heavy as they walked out onto the stage ― she tried calming herself; drawing in a long breath as she'd trained herself to do so many times before; but she wasn't sure it was going to work. especially not as the lights came up on them, suddenly blinding, which silhouetted the audience ― but yoojung could still spot their faces. she wasn't to adjust her ponytail, to  play with the collar of the black, baggy overalls she'd been fitted into ― but she couldn't. no, because then everyone would know how nervous she really would, and anyone who had seen their rehearsal would be convinced she'd make the same mistakes.

she wouldn't though. yoojung swore she wouldn't.

instead, yoojung smiled out at the crowd as seola began counting out for their introduction ― they all shouted in unison: “ yo, do you like to dream ? we are dream.e. ” before introducing themselves one-by-one. yoojung continues smiling as each of the members before her go on to say their names; turning directly to the crowd and bowing deeply as it comes to her ― “ i am resident shortie, choi yoojung, ” she called out, somehow managing to keep her smile on her face ― it was honestly beginning to hurt a bit, but she decided she wasn't going to think much about that. she was going to think about how bad she wanted this. how much she wanted to do well ― how much all the members had put into the performance. too much. yoojung decided as they each took their places on stage ― yoojung was centre stage; she started off their song, and it looked more natural anyway. seola was the only one near her height, and even then she was still around ten centimeters taller than yoojung. they've put too much into this performance for you to screw it up for them, yoojung … she pursed her lips, hands light on either side of her; not limp, but not board-straight. her  head was bowed slightly as she closed her eyes, taking in long, deep breaths. you can do this, yoojung-ah …

the now all-too familiar music started, and yoojung began counting. three four-counts, and then she turned ― one, two, three four ― how many times had she performed this song already, and she was still nervous ? ― two, two, three, four ― she could do this; she knew she could do this. they had all worked so hard ― three, two, three ―

on four, the group turned in perfect sync; yoojung raised her head as she turned, a smile painting itself easily on her face as she brought her microphone up to her mouth;

boys and girls, it's the d.e.

the words came out smoothly; her voice somehow not shaking despite the fact that yoojung was sure her stomach was churning ― but she wasn't paying attention to the crowd right now. no, her focus was on the camera, and if she thought hard enough about it, she knew she could imagine she was only performing in front of a camera. that made things easier. it was just a camera ― even if thousands of people were watching through it.

don't fool yourself. i got your back you must,

yoojung's movements, no matter how practiced, still looked so easy. although the movements were sharper than most of her typical routines, it was intended ― even as she switched spots with mingyu as he began his verse, the switch in formation, although not in the original version of the song, was fluid and went largely unnoticed. mingyu moved into her spot, while yoojung moved back and to the side, occupying where mingyu had previously stood. she keeps a smile on her face as she dances, moves basically second-nature. where her eyes had been heavy and still slightly stinging from rehearsal earlier, yoojung now felt as light and bouncy as the song was intended to be ― it was going well so far. the practice payed off, yoojung could tell ― just from how they always knew where they were going, didn't need to look to make sure everyone else was in their right space. each member trusted the next that they were where they were supposed to be, that they were going where they were meant to be. the teamwork within was clear to anyone who looked at them.

the familiar lines minho rapped out, his verses smooth and silky as he played to the camera, started and yoojung felt her stomach flip, recognizing her own part coming up next. where the original vice had been deeper, yoojung had chosen to make it more expressive, being that she couldn't exactly rap out the words how the original artist had. while her voice was just as bouncy as the original, it took a new approach to the lines ― but it fit. she jumped into her spot, wearing a slightly more intense expression ―

모여 모여 여기로 모여

she winked at the camera, as she had so many times in practices; a smile came across her face once more.

돌려 돌려 머리를 돌려

and then, it was into the chorus. yoojung moved her body along with the music, each minute movement met with the same energy it took for the larger spins ― but she showed no signs of wear as the performance moved on. looking as bright as she had upon walking up on stage, yoojung shrugged her shoulders in perfect sync with the other members as they leaned back, shrugging their shoulders ― each smiling cheekily as seola sang. her voice had always been pleasing ― yoojung even once asked the elder to sing her to sleep one night, which she hadn't listened to but maybe another time ― and it was even more so over the sound system, blasting out alongside the rest of the music. it only made yoojung want to smile brighter as their open palms beat their chests, legs in second position, before they quickly moved them to stand directly beneath them, arm descending with two fingers pointed out to the side; yoojung's eyes followed her fingers until she dropped her arm to her side and moved into their line.

mingyu's verse came and went quickly before yoojung jumped out of nowhere once again to repeat her lines ― the same energy within them as there had been before.

모여 모여 여기로 모여

one of the members behind her shouted out let's rock !, adlibs having been practiced even when they were still at trc ― yoojung takes a step toward the camera, scrunching up her nose and placing her hands on her hips cutely before jumping around once again, playing into the camera.

돌려 돌려 머리를 돌려

she allows minho to jump in front of her as he goes on with his own verse, each other member doing a call-and-respond-esque part before yoojung counts them down back into their chorus quickly; she squeaks out the out before moving back into her place and wonshik starts again. yoojung barely realizes that the place where she always slips up ― the place where her tongue always seems to get in the way and screws everything up ― is almost there until minho's rapping out his verse just before her own. time seems to slow through minho's lines as they grow closer to yoojung's own part ― and she fears for a second that her face is going to go bank. somehow, however, she manages to keep the smile on her face as she moves centre-stage once again, straightening up and placing a hand on her hip as her microphone's lifted to her lips.

her heart was pounding.

눈 깜짝핼새 하루가가게 전부 하나돼 놀다가 밤새

the lines are short and sweet ― the flow was smooth, and her body language played into the camera as she rapped ― but she couldn't help how her smile seemed to grow brighter as she moved through it. after all, this time, the words came easily to yoojung, and the lines were clean. she didn't even accidentally fuse any words together ― no, they were perfect. as each word came, yoojung was able to relax into her position; she moved freely to the music of her own part and rapped as if she'd been doing it all her life.

who could blame her for being happy for herself ?

go ! go ! go ! go 'head a rock 'em !

the smile stayed on her face as they moved through the familiar movements the chorus brought once more; yoojung couldn't help it as they came to their final positions. each member of dream.e was breathing heavily; they stared out into the cheering crowd and relished in it for just a moment ― because what else could they do ? what else could they do other than reap the fruits of all their labor ?

this is why … yoojung thought to herself, smiling out into the crowd. yoojung had never really experienced the thrill that came at the end of a stage ― she had never really reveled in the praise the audience was giving them. her chest swelled at the feeling, something so completely unfamiliar, but something she wanted so desperately. something that she craved, and something she knew she would once again crave once she left the stage.

this can't be the last time … it won't be. because this is why …

her eyes scanned the faces she could see, and she tried to commit them to memory ― but is soon shooed off the stage by one of the other members of her group. she bows out into the audience before dream.e is ushered to completely leave the stage.

this is why i'm here. this is why i'm doing this.

and yoojung swore, no matter what, she would push herself to her limits just to feel that again.

[ckingsbridge]

Hello Cordelia! Once again I’m coming to you for some Krav advice, I hope you don’t mind. Skipping the part where I know it takes time and training to get somewhere, I’m struggling. I’m trying not let it get to me (not getting things right, messing up and failing) but my brain has other ideas. I thought Krav would help with my depression and anxiety and it many ways it hasn’t but I’m invested in it, I want to do better, I don’t want to fail at this. (1/?)

(2/3) The classes I can attend to are limited and I don’t have anyone to coach me or train with me outside classes, and alone I just don’t do anything. I *want* to but my depression and laziness and how silly I feel training alone overwhelms me and I wound up not doing a thing, hating myself and going to classes feeling like I’m not improving. This is stupid and intrusive but I don’t know anyone else I can ask for some sort of orientation. Do you have a routine? Do you train at home, alone?

(3/3) I just thought if I had some insight in what it’s like for other practitioners maybe I would work my mind around what I need to do? I’m sorry about the long message, for bothering you with something like this. Thank you and I hope you’re doing better. X

Hi! First of all, let me say that I’m sorry you’re going through a difficult time. I struggle with similar issues, as you know, and they can be devastating.

Second, to address the Krav questions separately from mental health: Krav Maga takes time and a lot of practice to get comfortable with. It takes thousands of repetitions of a technique to build up the muscle memory. I was once brought to the literal edge of tears during a class because I could not get the footwork for a rear hammerfist down no matter how hard I tried - and I still struggle with it after 2.5 years!

If you’re going to one or two hour-long classes a week, your progress may feel slow at first, but that’s normal. (I myself have never trained outside of class, although I do a significant amount of non-Krav strength training.) The more muscle memory you build, the easier it will be and the faster you’ll learn. I can’t know this for a fact, of course, but I suspect your progress is probably normal for having just started training, and it’s the depression and anxiety making you believe otherwise.

Which brings me to what I really want to focus on: the likely cognitive distortions that are discouraging you. If you’ll allow me to get all social worker on you for a few minutes, I’d like to walk you through a cognitive behavioral therapy technique that might help. I’m putting this behind a cut, because it’s kind of long and I know it’s not everybody’s cup of tea.

(To preface: I’m a master’s-level social worker specifically trained in CBT.)

When you’re suffering anxiety and/or depression, it’s really important to question the negative automatic thoughts that you have. Mental health issues can warp your thinking without you even realizing it, so it helps to consciously break down your thoughts and analyze them for validity. Many counselors recommend doing this with a dysfunctional thought record.

Basically, when you feel your mood getting worse, stop and think about what thought was just going through your mind. For this example, let’s use something related to difficulties with Krav Maga - “I’m not improving.”

Once you’ve identified the automatic thought, you examine it by asking yourself a series of questions, such as the following:

What’s the evidence that this thought is true? Because, yes, it’s important to acknowledge that there may be an element of truth to the thoughts you’re having. (Potential examples: “I’m still having trouble with this side hammerfist”; “I feel awkward in class”.)

What’s the evidence that this thought is not true? (Ex: “I felt less tired after the stress drill this time”; “That front kick was pretty solid”.)

Is there an alternative explanation for the thought? (Ex: “Krav Maga takes a lot of time and practice to learn, and since I can only attend a limited number of classes, my progress might be slower than people who can practice more often.”)

What’s the worst thing that could happen, and how would I cope with it? (Ex: “I’m really not improving no matter what I do, so I’ll quit and find another physical activity I enjoy.”)

What’s the best thing that could happen? (Ex: “Everything will suddenly click and I’ll make a lot of fast progress”.)

What’s the most realistic outcome? (Ex: “My progress may be slow at first, but if I stick with it, I’ll get better and better as time goes on.”)

What is the effect of my believing the automatic thought? (Ex: “It makes me feel more depressed and bad about myself, and I want to quit.”)

What could be the effect of changing my thinking? (Ex: “Krav will still be difficult and there will be days it flat-out sucks, but I’ll stick with it and it may have great benefits”.)

What should I do about this situation? (Ex: “Try Krav for one more month and reassess my progress”; “Ask my coach for specific advice for the techniques I’m struggling with most”.)

Now, a true thought record is a bit more complex than this, with additional elements, but for someone who just wants to work through some tangled stuff on their own, this is a good start.

When you’re depressed and/or anxious, you can’t take your judgments about yourself for granted - you need to work through them and see if they have a genuine basis in reality. It won’t magically solve your problems, of course, but it can help you see things from a different perspective.

And honestly, you may really find that Krav Maga is not for you. There’s nothing in the world that’s right for everybody. I’d recommend giving it a little bit more time and doing some thought-testing before you make a decision, but if you do decide to quit, don’t beat yourself up about it. I would, however, encourage you to find a different physical activity you enjoy if you stop Krav - exercise is extremely important in treating depression.

I hope you find this helpful, and please let me know if you have any more questions!

[sweetiepie08]

Worst Altar Boys in Santa Cecelia (Chapter 1)

Oops, my one-shot got turned into a multi-chap. 

Poor Hector has a talent for turning dumb mistakes into full-blown disasters. He should have known that altar serving would be no exception. At least he has his best friend by his side and a friendly older neighbor to confide in. He isn’t trying to cause trouble. It just sort of turns out that way. But can he pull it together and step up when it counts?

“The two priests you need to worry about are Padre Eduardo and Padre Manuel,” Ernesto explained as they made their way down the street. Héctor, still an energetic ten year old, often veered off to the side to jump off a stoop or kick a stone. Ernesto, fourteen now, eschewed such childish (though fun looking) things and kept straight on down the road, occasionally calling for his friend to keep up and pay attention. “Now, Padre Manuel isn’t so bad. He’s not too strict, but he is old hermanito. I think he could have met Moses he’s so old. He doesn’t see very well, so sometimes you’ll have to shove things right into his hands or he’ll drop them. His voice is also really gravelly and he can be hard to understand, but that’s not such a problem once you get the mass routine down. Padre Eduardo, on the other hand…” Ernesto paused to give himself enough time to fully cringe. “He’s younger but you do not want to get on his bad side. I’ve been screamed at so many times, my ears are still ringing.”

“So, you’re already on his bad side?” Héctor asked, kicking a rock ahead of himself.

“Not exactly,” Ernesto said. “I was but then I started singing along with the hymns and he was impressed with my dedication.”

“So, sing the hymns with Padre Eduardo. Got it.” Héctor spotted an open crate laying on its side. With some fancy footwork, he shot the rock off to the side and into the dead center of the open crate. “But what if I mess up or forget something?”

“That’s when you get screamed at.”

“Oh, great…” His shoulders slumped. He hated getting screamed at, and he knew if he got it from Padre Eduardo, it’d get back to Mama and he’d be in twice as much trouble. At least Ernesto’s parents were never around to yell at him. “What happens if-”

“Hey, hey, wait, wait, wait…” Ernesto threw his arm out in front of Héctor and sniffed the air. “You smell that?”

Héctor gave the air a big whiff and immediately replaced his dower face with a grin. “Señora Morales made pan dulce!” he clapped his hands together and gave the air another dreamy whiff. “Oh, it smells fresh too…”

“Well, come on.” Ernesto waved him forward. “Let’s go get some.”

“I don’t think she made it for us, hermano.”

Ernesto looked at him like he didn’t see the problem. “So? I’ll bet we can get some anyway.  Here, get on my back.” He crouched down and Héctor climbed up. “Now try to look pathetic, like you haven’t eaten in weeks.” Héctor flopped against Ernesto’s back and buried his face between Ernesto’s shoulder blades. “Maybe moan a little…” Héctor let out a soft “mmmff” and Ernesto smiles. “That’s it.” He walked them down a few doors and paused just before they turned the corner. They could hear her humming as she swept the steps. “Okay, there’s her house. Show time.” He put on his best concerned big-brother voice and said, “Come on, hermanito, just a little further. We’ll get some food in you in no time.”

A stout older woman looked up from sweeping and gave them a big smile. “Hola boys! Is he alright?” she asked, pointing at Héctor’s boneless form.

“Yeah, he should be fine soon.” Ernesto gave Héctor a little toss as he readjusted his grip. “He’s just starving. See, he’s supposed to start as an altar boy next Sunday. We spent all day practicing, but, we got carried away and forgot to break for lunch. Poor Héctor here is so nervous, he skipped breakfast too.”

“I’m sorry Ernesto,” Héctor said, lifting his head. “I just wanted to get everything perfect. I couldn’t tell if my belly hurt because I was nervous or hungry. Now I know, it’s both.” He weakly dropped his head again.

“Oh you poor things.” Señora Morales set her broom aside and clasped her hands over her heart. “You worked so hard. You’re growing boys. You need to eat. Come in. I just whipped something up.”

They followed her inside and they sat down at her kitchen table. She got out two plates and gave them each a tamale. “You boys excited to start altar serving?” she asked.

“Yes, I mean, I’m starting, but Ernesto’s been doing it for a while.”

“Oh, that’s right. I’ve seen you at mass. You know, my Victor was an acolyte. I was so proud, seeing him in his robes.”

“That’s nice,” Ernesto said between bites.

“You boys remind me of him, especially you, Héctor. He couldn’t gain a pound when he was your age either.”

Ernesto chuckled and Héctor kicked him under the table. “How is Victor up north?” Héctor knew Victor. He liked Victor. They didn’t interact much as Victor was a good ten years older than him, but there were times where he’d join them for a ball game outside or catch them making trouble but only acknowledge it with a wink and a smirk. One time, when Héctor ran to the market for his Mama, some bullies decided to jump him for his groceries. Victor happened to be nearby and stepped in. He chased the bullies away and helped Héctor repair his bruised pride with a joke and a laugh. “Anyone messes with you again, just let me know, chamaco,” Victor said as he gave Héctor a pat on the back.

“Oh, he’s doing fine, I suppose,” she mused, looking out the window. “He writes and sends money when he can. I just hope that…”

“Hope what?” Héctor asked.

“Never mind, I shouldn’t worry you boys,” she said, turning back to them, a cheery smile on her face once again. “It’s a beautiful day, you boys should be outside.”

She took their empty plates and they got up from the table. Ernesto eyeballed the plate of pan dulce by the window. Señora Morales followed his eye line and gave them a sly smirk. “Would you boys like some?” she asked, nodding her head toward the plate.

“Sí, por favor,” Héctor answered, a smile growing from ear to ear. He was never one to turn down free food, especially something sweet. He took the piece offered to him and shoved half of it in his mouth. “Muchas gracias” he said while covering his chewing mouth.

“Héctor…” Ernesto scolded, giving him a don’t-be-such-a-kid glare.

Héctor quickly swallowed and looked down at the floor while the heat rose in his cheeks. Did Ernesto really have to correct him all the time? Especially in front of other people? He knew Ernesto was just trying to make him act more grown-up but did he have to do that now? Why couldn’t he just let Héctor enjoy things? Ernesto kept glaring at him, so Héctor mumbled out a quick “lo siento” and took a smaller bite.

Satisfied, Ernesto relinquished his glare. “Gracias, Señora,” he said, flashing the dazzling charming-young-man smile he’d been working on.

“Run along now,” she said, a fragile smile forming on her lips. “You don’t want to waste this lovely day.”

Ernesto thanked her again and started for the door, but Héctor lingered. He saw some sadness in Señora Morales’ face and felt a twinge in his heart. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but stopped when he heard Ernesto snap his name.

“Héctor, come on. We don’t want to bother the lady any longer,” Ernesto called from the door.

Maybe Ernesto was right. Maybe he shouldn’t pry. Héctor gave her an apologetic smile, thanked her for the food, and ran off with his friend.

[-]

The morning of Héctor’s first mass rolled around and, to his chagrin, Padre Eduardo was serving that day. He was nervous enough as it was, but Ernesto’s stories about other boys who messed up around Padre Eduardo made him extra jumpy. He made sure to get there early and get his robe on. Apparently, Padre Eduardo hated when the altar boys took too long getting ready. He and Ernesto got there about the same time. There was supposed to be a third, but he hadn’t arrived yet. They just finished putting on his robe when Padre Eduardo stalked into the sacristy.

“Boy,” Padre Eduardo barked from behind him.

Héctor jumped and turned around, knowing that meant him. Ernesto warned him that Padre Eduardo took a while before learning names. “Sí, Padre?”

The priest reached into his sleeve and produced a matchbook. “Get those candles lit,” he ordered, tossing it to Héctor. Without another word, he stalked back out.

“And that was Padre Eduardo,” Ernesto said, once the priest had gone.

“That’s it? No introduction? No ‘here’s how you do it’?”

“Nope, just get to work,” Ernesto said, grabbing two brass candle lighters. “Here, we’ll each do half. When Padre Eduardo orders one boy to do something, he usually means everyone.”

Ernesto held out the candle lighters and Héctor took out a match. He honestly wasn’t sure what to do. He’d never been allowed to light a match before. His mother did not trust him to handle fire and anyone who knew his history of accidental disasters knew why. Ernesto was an exception to this rule. He was always trying to get his friend to do more grown-up things and Héctor supposed using matches was one of them.  

He tried running the match along the strip the way he’d seen adults do it. Nothing. He figured he just didn’t do it hard enough and tried again. Still nothing. Okay, maybe the strip is just worn out. He tried a third time and broke the match. Ernesto rolled his eyes and let out an irritated huff. Héctor frowned and looked at the matchbook like he was solving a puzzle. How did Mama do it? Oh yeah, she put the flap down and pinched it between her fingers. Héctor tried just that but apparently he pinched too hard and broke another match.

“Just let me do it.” Ernesto said, resting the candle lighters in the crook of his elbow and reaching for the matchbook.

“No, I got it.” Héctor already had another match pinched against the strip. Ernesto grabbed at the matchbook. In one swift motion, Héctor both pulled the matchbook away and lit the match. However, the match flew out of his hand and landed on the edge of a tablecloth.

The flame began to grow and spread. Ernesto shoved the candle lighters into Héctor’s arms, grabbed a book off a nearby table and started beating the fire out.

“Wait, wait wait,” Héctor gasped. “That’s not a bible, is it?”

Ernesto stopped when the flames died. They both froze, neither one brave enough to take a closer look at the now-scorched book. After a minute, Ernesto worked up the nerve to peak at the cover and breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s just the Eucharistic ministers’ sign-in book.”

“What are we going to do?” Héctor asked, pulling at his own hair. “What are we going to tell Padre Eduardo?”

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” Ernesto said, getting up. “We’re going to hide the book. Then, after mass, you’ll take it with you and get rid of it somehow.”

“Me?”

“Yes, this is your fault. You dropped the match.”

“I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t tried to grab it.”

“This is no time to argue.” Ernesto shoved the book into Héctor’s hands and took the candle lighters back. “Stash the book before someone sees.”

Héctor twisted his head around, looking for somewhere to hide the evidence. He spotted a gap between a cabinet and a wall. He shoved the book in the gap and made a mental note to remember it after mass. “Okay, what do we do about the tablecloth?”

Both boys looked at the burnt black splotch marring the previously pristine, white tablecloth. “Quick, turn it around,” Ernesto said. They immediately began taking things off the table and twisting the cloth so that the burnt side was against the wall.

“What are you guys doing?”

The boys turned to see the third altar boy, Carlos, standing in the doorway.

Carlos’ eyes fell on the black splotch on the tablecloth. “Did you guys set it on fire?” he gasped. “You could have burned the whole church down!”

“And you’re gonna keep your damn mouth shut about it, Carlos,” Ernesto warned.

“Please Carlos,” Héctor begged. “It’s my first day. I don’t want Padre Eduardo to kill me on my first day.”

Carlos rubbed the back of his neck as he looked back and forth between the boys and the burn stain. “I’ll…just go get my robe on,” he finally said, headed for the cabinet.

They boys finished turning the tablecloth and put everything back where it was. When Padre Eduardo stormed back in a few moments later, demanding to know why the candles weren’t lit yet, he didn’t notice anything was amiss.

[-]

Héctor tried his best to look appropriately reverent all through mass, but he couldn’t help nervously twisting his fingers. He kept going over in his head how to dispose of the book and different ways he could get caught. Luckily, he made few mistakes during the mass itself and only earned irritated glares from Padre Eduardo. At least there was no yelling.

He and Ernesto lingered after mass, pretending to talk about this & that until Carlos and Padre Eduardo left. Once they were gone, Héctor pulled the burnt book from its hiding place.

“Know how you’re going to get rid of it?” Ernesto asked.

“I think I’ll just hide it under my bed until I think of something better.”

“No, don’t do that! What if your mother finds it?”

Héctor nervously flipped the book in his hands. Ernesto had a point. His mother would want to know why he was hiding a burnt book under his bed. She’d get the truth out of him then drag him down to the church and make him tell Padre Eduardo about what he’d done. Oh, he’d be in for one of Padre Eduardo’s infamous screaming sessions then.

“Look, just take it with you and dump it somewhere on your way home,” Ernesto insisted.

“You’re not coming with me?” Héctor asked. “But we live on the same street.”

“I’m not going home. I’m meeting up with Camila González,” Ernesto answered, a proud smile tugging at his lips.

Héctor rolled his eyes. Ernesto just started getting interested in girls, in the kissy-kissy kind of way. Héctor himself just didn’t see the appeal (at least not yet). At least Ernesto didn’t bother him with the details.

“Look, just toss it in an alley somewhere,” Ernesto said, holding him by the shoulders. “Bury it under some trash. Just make sure it doesn’t get back to you.”

Héctor let out a long breath. “I’ll try.”

“Good,” Ernesto said, giving his friend a light, playful push as he removed his hands. “I’ve got to go. I’m meeting her in the Plaza for a dance. We’ll hang out tomorrow.”

Héctor watched Ernesto walk out the door. Once his friend was gone, he opened the book and started flipping through it. It wasn’t burnt too badly. It was just the cover and a chunk of the first pages. Maybe if he just tore off the burnt parts… Padre Eduardo would want to know why the book was all torn up. No, that wouldn’t work. Ernesto was right. He’d just had to get rid of the whole thing.

[-]

Héctor tried his best to look inconspicuous as he carried the burnt book with him on his way home. He thought about sticking it down his shirt so no one could see it, but he was far too skinny for that to look anything but ridiculous. So, he hugged the burnt side to his chest, covered the other side with both arms, and hoped he didn’t just happen to run into any Eucharistic ministers.

As he made his way down the street, it occurred to him that he just stole from a church and his palms started to sweat. It’s okay, he told himself. It’s just one little sign-in book. It was going to get thrown away once it was full anyway. They can always just get another one. God doesn’t send people to hell for stupid screw-ups, right? He wondered if he should bring this up at confession, but that would mean confessing to Padre Eduardo who was the last person he wanted to find out. No, he was stuck taking this secret to his grave. God would understand, right? He wondered if Jesus ever got into stupid messes like this.

Señora Morales smiled and waved at him from her window and he smiled and waved back. His stomach did another twist. Damn, he was almost home and he still hadn’t found anywhere to ditch the book. He kept looking as nonchalant as possible as he walked on, but grimaced as soon as he was out of Señora Morales’ site. He had to hurry. Home was only a few streets away and he’d be in big trouble if his mother saw the book. His mind went into a panic. What do I do? What do I do?

He heard a bark behind him and an idea sprung to his mind. He turned to see the gray xolo dog who like to hang out on his street. Héctor knew this dog. It liked to sleep under his bedroom window and his mother scolded him all the time for tossing it spare bones. The dog would definitely help him out. It was busy biting at a stick as Héctor approached him. “Dante,” Héctor called gently and the dog looked up at him. “Dante, want a new chew toy?”

Dante sat straight up and barked excitedly. Héctor held the book out at the dog’s mouth-level. “Here you go. Chew as much as you want.”

Dante grabbed the book in his jaws. He held one side down with one paw and gnawed at the spine. The knots in Héctor’s stomach began to loosen. This was good. Dogs rip stuff up all the time. Maybe he’ll even bury it. “Good boy, Dante,” Héctor said as the dog started tearing at the pages. He gave Dante a pat on the head and the dog scampered off with its prize.

Héctor’s heart felt so light, he ran the rest of the way home, creating his own wind and letting it whip him in the face. There. Done and done. It was out of his hands. If anyone found Dante with the book, they couldn’t get too mad about it. Dante was a dog after all. He didn’t know any better. And if they wondered how the dog got the book, they couldn’t trace it back to him.

He did it. He survived his first day as an altar boy and his first mass-related disaster. There’s no way it could be as bad next week. He couldn’t possibly mess up any worse than nearly burning down the church. Next time just had to get better, right? Right?