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anitosoul · 4 years ago

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My Favorite Albums of 2020, 20-11

20. Porridge Radio, Every Bad

Favorite Tracks: Sweet | Born Confused | Lilac

I wish I found this album earlier, because after only a few listens it quickly jumped to one of my favorite albums of the year. This album is post-everything, incorporating aspects of punk, garage rock, metal, and indie into a bundle of frustratingly modern angst similar to Mannequin Pussy’s 2019 album Patience. Lead singer Dana Margolin deftly moves from quiet, dark singing into full on screaming, representing the difficulties of masquerading as fully-hinged when it’s obvious that everyone is, at least to some extent, totally unhinged. Every Bad is an album of shielding mantras and piercing emotions; it’s for anyone who’s sought clarity by reciting self-help book affirmations but ripped the pages to shreds right after. Every Bad exists in the deeply relatable space of desperately trying to listen to your mind and simultaneously resisting the clamoring pangs of the heart. The beauty of this album is that it doesn’t present itself in a sense of futility, but rather that of intent: anger and calm are important steps in processing trauma, and any recognition of that represents progress.

19. Lil Uzi Vert, Eternal Atake / Lil Uzi Vert vs. the World 2

Favorite Tracks: Lo Mein | Moon Relate | Yessirskii

The machine of hip-hop hype has become bigger than itself, a serpent eating its own tail. Major releases for artists like Travis Scott, Lil Uzi Vert, Playboi Carti, Kanye West, and most notoriously Frank Ocean blast through a roller coaster of twists and turns involving missed release dates, cryptic social media actions, leaked songs purchased through online “group buys,” and ravenous fans who spend most of their life on the Internet, setting both the anticipation for the album and the expectations for new content at unimaginable and arguably unattainable highs. The artist is left with a single critical shot to slay the hype monster, with first impressions largely dominating the public discourse: Travis Scott’s ASTROWORLD soared him to rap titan status, allowing him to sell stupid amounts of overpriced merchandise (like $60 T-shirts commemorating buying a meal at McDonald’s between September and October of 2020), Frank Ocean’s critical darling Blonde (and please don’t forget Endless) topped Album of the Decade lists solidifying him as a musical legend, Kanye West’s JESUS IS KING confirmed his decline as an artist, blemishing his legacy and leaving fans clamoring for the album-that-never-was Yandhi, and most recently Playboi Carti’s Whole Lotta Red found Internet kids immediately hating on the album on social media as a commemorative “I Was There” stamp due to its left-field sound.

In the case of Uzi, Eternal Atake and the subsequent deluxe/sequel album Lil Uzi Vert Vs. The World 2 land somewhere between ASTROWORLD and Whole Lotta Red. Uzi delivered two extremely high quality projects, the second of which was made up of curated snippets and guest features that fans had been demanding. While no individual song across these twin albums reaches nearly the height that “XO Tour Llif3” did in 2017 (whether due to COVID preventing any of the songs from making club rounds or simply that none of them caught on), I can’t help but feel like most of the fun of these hip-hop releases now lies in the anticipation, memes, frustration, and community leading up to the drop. Artists now have a very peculiar relationship to their fans where the balance of power and influence over their work can literally rest in the keyboards of a handful of vocal teenagers. In that sense, Uzi’s ride wasn’t a roller coaster, but a tilt-a-whirl: an exhilarating journey, but one without too many surprises in the end.

18. Fiona Apple, Fetch the Bolt Cutters

Favorite Tracks: I Want You to Love Me | Newspaper | Cosmonauts

I don’t think I’m a good enough writer to do this album justice with words. The only reason it’s not higher up for me is because this is a list of my personal favorites. Just know the praise is completely deserved—it’s the best album of 2020.

17. Sufjan Stevens, The Ascension

Favorite Tracks: Die Happy | Make Me an Offer I Cannot Refuse | Tell Me You Love Me

This album is…a lot. I had to listen to it over two sessions, already floored on my first listen by the time I got to my favorite song on the album “Die Happy” (it’s only six songs in). I was in a, um, fully altered headspace when I heard that song for the first time, melted into the couch as the music combined with my very being: when the song’s only lyric is “I want to die happy,” it can be overwhelming. I saved the rest for my trip to the Catskills, having no idea Stevens recorded the album there until I started writing this (coincidentally, I also found out Shore by Fleet Foxes was recorded in the Catskills when I first listened to it on this same Catskills trip). After a long day of hiking and the others had gone to bed, I filled the bathtub in the cabin with hot water, threw some leftover glowsticks in there, and opened the window to the cool mountain air as I came down and listened to the rest of the album. The middle was admittedly slow, but the album’s themes of reevaluating the American dream and existing in modern American society struck a chord. By utilizing the platitudes found throughout the album as anchor points, I was able to absorb every sound on The Ascension’s richly detailed electronic instrumentation. This was most prevalent in the closer track, the 12-minute “America.” I sat in the soft glow of the bath, thinking about my existence as a first-generation Filipino-American privileged enough to live in NYC and vacation in the Catskills with two fellow immigrant friends. The final platitude of the song lingered in my mind as I realized I was living out one version of the American dream:

Despite apparent prosperity, Stevens implores prudence: he does so by wrapping the chaos of existing in America in 2020—-including the exhaustion of constantly performing for an ever-expanding digital audience under the strict guidelines of a destructive society that often feels like it’s left its people behind—in a final call to God to make the world a better place. The Ascension is an album for a year that’s felt like the end of the world, a desperate grasp for a glimmer of hope within a terrible darkness.

16. Yaeji, WHAT WE DREW

Favorite Tracks: WAKING UP DOWN | WHAT WE DREW | SPELL

Oh, how I dream of seeing Yaeji DJ a dark, sweaty club in a Bushwick warehouse (I know this is getting old, but I swear I wrote this one before the previous entries!). WHAT WE DREW is Yaeji’s first studio album after her breakout EP EP2, which featured infectious pop house tune “Raingurl” and a techno-fied cover of Drake’s “Passionfruit.” On WHAT WE DREW, Yaeji has her heart on her sleeve and is vibing on her own wavelength. From the momentum she’s gained from her EPs and collaborations with big names like Charli XCX and Dua Lipa, she could have easily focused her efforts on making viral club bangers. Instead, she uses WHAT WE DREW as a canvas for self-expression and celebration of identity, which sets the basis for why I love this album. She fully embraces her background as a Korean-American, placing Korean track titles next to the English and singing and rapping in Korean throughout. The guest appearances are equally genuine, with Yaeji eschewing big name artists for friends from around the world, adding tilts of trap and J-pop to her already genre-defying sound. The airy but comforting abstract light greens and blues of the cover art match the mood of this album perfectly, as Yaeji includes lyrical hints of anxiety and struggle as a young Asian-American throughout her distinct production style. It’s a bold choice for a genre that doesn’t typically focus on lyricism: she’s putting out dance music that’s not just playful, but genuinely personal as well.

15. 100 gecs, 1000 gecs and the Tree of Clues

Favorite Tracks: ringtone (Remix) | hand crushed by a mallet (Remix) | toothless

All right, I’ll admit it—I’m a 100 gecs stan. When I first heard their music, I, like many others, was turned off by their abrasive, stupid sound. But over time, something clicked and I found myself loving it. It was hard to listen to anything else; I was addicted to the rapid-fire post-post-post-ironic tracks and felt like they sonically and lyrically captured Gen Z malaise in a way I had never heard before. When I found out about the remix album I was ecstatic; my hype was building after listening to the “Hand Crushed by a Mallet” Fall Out Boy remix on a low quality YouTube video of a 100 gecs DJ set. When the “Ringtone (Remix)” dropped as the first 2020 single for the album, I was floored at how well the guest features of Charli XCX, Rico Nasty, and Kero Kero Bonito worked together—it’s since become tied for my favorite song of the year. The rest of the remix album is more of a mixed bag, but at the very least offers interesting takes on an already ambitious and uniquely creative base that was the original 1000 gecs album. Their music is like getting the Star on Mario Kart—short-lived, but intensely chaotic and fun. If new song “toothless” is anything to go by, 100 gecs are just getting started and I can’t wait to hear how they continue to define and refine the hyperpop genre.

14. HAIM, Women in Music Pt. III

Favorite Tracks: Los Angeles | The Steps | I’ve Been Down

This is HAIM at their realest: the sisters know exactly who they are and they’re unafraid to show it throughout this album. While still firmly rooted in breezy West Coast 70’s rock, they’ve expanded further, reining in new sounds and styles into their music. The subject matter is personal but tongue-in-cheek, satirical and sincere at the same time. Listening to album opener “Los Angeles” always put a smile on my face, listening to their musings on what a hometown can represent in one’s life: just like family, a hometown has seen your ups and downs, and love it or hate it, it will always be a part of you. This album is self-aware in the same way you might burst into absurd laughter instead of woeful tears when everything in your life is falling apart: the Haim sisters have been there, and they want you to know you’re not alone.

13. Lianne La Havas, Lianne La Havas

Favorite Tracks: Can’t Fight | Bittersweet | Paper Thin

This is straight up just a beautiful album. It’s effortless and sparse, and La Havas simply lets her talents carry the album. It’s folk and jazz and R&B but still uniquely her own sound; it’s wide and bold but still intimately personal, making it fittingly self-titled. I honestly can’t say too much about it in terms of relating the themes to my current experience or listening to it because I really connected to it at this point in my life, but it was in constant rotation throughout the year because listening to it was like laying in a field and watching the clouds: simple appreciation of natural beauty.

12. Playboi Carti, Whole Lotta Red

Favorite Tracks: M3tamorphosis | Sky | Rockstar Made

This was by far my most anticipated album of the year. I’ve always been a huge Carti stan, downloading all of his leaks dating back to 2011. I love Carti because of his constant ability to defy convention and predict (define?) trends. When the SoundCloud era was coming up in 2016, Carti completely deconstructed any notion of traditional rap, reducing verses entirely to repeated ad-libs over wavy Pi’erre Bourne beats. As mentioned previously, Carti garnered immense amounts of hype with the unexpectedly huge hit in the “Kid Cudi” (officially titled “Pissy Pamper,” but I refuse to call it that) leak, utilizing an extremely weird “baby voice” that was teased in Die Lit songs like “FlatBed Freestyle” and totally went against traditional masculine notions you’d expect to hear in hip-hop. I was fully along for the ride, listening to all the leaks and gearing myself up for what was shaping up to be an evolved Die Lit. When Carti finally dropped Whole Lotta Red on Christmas (the audacity!) after months of teasing, he once again defied expectation and skipped over the baby voice era entirely, dropping an album of raspy punk-trap songs that sounded more like Hi-C or Drain Gang rather than the currently popular hip-hop sound that he helped put in place. While this departure of style immediately garnered internet hate from people who felt the need to involve themselves in the zeitgeist with reactionary social media posts, I realized that Carti once again delivered a sound I didn’t know I wanted. I had been listening to a lot of ‘90’s/early 2000’s rock and electronic music in the month leading up to its release, curating an aesthetic genre that my roommate and I coined “tech grunge.”

As I listened to Whole Lotta Red’s anxiety-ridden and surprisingly candid lyrics about addiction, death, and vampiric personification over distorted bass and Sega Genesis-type beats, I concluded that Carti put out perhaps the first fully realized tech grunge album ever:

They can’t understand me, I’m talkin’ hieroglyphics (yeah) They can’t understand me, I’m talkin’ hieroglyphics I feel like Morpheus (what? What?), I feel like Morpheus (what? What?) I got my whole gang on some other shit I done changed my swag (swag, swag, what? What?)

I mean, come on.

If I have any critique of the album it would be that it could have been stronger as a double album, splitting the harder hitting tracks onto one album and the Die Lit 2 sounding tracks onto another (which I actually did in the Spotify playlists below), but nonetheless this album completely delivered for me with its infectious beats and sick aesthetic.

11. The Microphones, Microphones in 2020

Favorite Tracks: Just listen to the whole thing

The Glow, Pt. 2 was one of the first albums I downloaded when I had an iPod in early high school and one of the albums that got me into indie music. Listening to this album alone under the stars was sublime and would probably have broken my top 10 if I heard it any earlier in the year. It’s difficult to put out a good concept album, especially when it all sounds like one long song, but Phil Elverum’s released a project that never bores and never drags: Microphones in 2020 is a slow burning, ambient experiment in storytelling, building up sonically as he recounts his own history from the early days of The Microphones through the period of his band Mount Eerie, which was defined by personal tragedy due to the death of his wife, into where he is right now in 2020, four years later. The 45-minute song brought me back to the many nights this past year that I spent ruminating in bed, looking back at old journal entries and photos, thinking about all that’s led me to this point. The reflections would never fully revive the all-encompassing joy, sadness, pleasure, or pain that was felt in those past moments, but instead faded the memories with a sepia of sentimental nostalgia: a reminder of the transience of emotion and the elusiveness of meaning.

#aoty 2020 #aoty #music #music writing #reflects #albums #Spotify

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rrazor · 4 years ago

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hq boys as non-sexual things that feel sensual

tags: mildly suggestive content (mostly pining)

bokuto: certain phrases are very sexually charged; “make me,” or “what are you gonna do about it” lunch time!! bokuto comes back from the cafeteria with his pork-cutlet sandwich to see you engaged in a card game with three other people. He sees that everyone’s bet something and you bet a strawberry danish you bought this morning and bokuto’s eyes go 🤩 he forces himself in LMFAO and makes sure to sit next to you 🥰❤️ in the end, it’s only you and him left (konoha and komi come over from their classes to see what all the fuss is about and they’re like …..how is bokuto doing so well 😶)

but you win and steal his sandwich on the desk 😈 he tries to defame you for cheating lol but all you do is look at him coyly like “and what are you gonna do about it, bokuto-kun? 😇” and suddenly his tongue feels heavy and his cheeks flush and he’s all 🥺👉👈 he asks you for the bread back because its his only lunch 😭💀 but he ends up winning sm more because you offer to share your bento with him and his heart goes 🥰💖💞

akaashi: sitting next to someone and your shoulders/thighs touch it’s the sports festival!! and it’s lunch break. he spots you sitting on a bench and he starts sweating at the idea of sitting next to you but he wants to be near you somewhat because then MAYBE you’ll talk to him??!? hopefully 🥺💔

he swallows his nerves and sits on the bench too but on the other side with a huge gap between you and your friend. he pulls out his phone to look “busy” LMFAO then, more of your friends come over and suddenly, you’re snug against him, your BARE THIGH touching his because you’re both in shorts and akaashi thinks he gonna pass out with the bashful apology you give him 😵 he thanks every deity he can think of that your friends came over and STAY because your leg is still touching his and he’s holding a conversation with you 😭🥺🥳💕💖❤️😍

konoha: having someone use your keyboard standing up while you’re sitting in front of it you’re in one of the school’s computer labs working on a research essay. akinori sits next to your station, having worked up the courage earlier to ask you if you could help him with his. he sneaks glances at you at the printers as you refill the trays with more paper 👀 he blushes even though you aren’t even doing anything to him 😭😔💔

before he can stop himself, he calls your name lmfao 🗣 but manages to save himself from utter embarrassment by asking you to look over one of his passages. coming over, you lean over him, hands on his keyboard as he leans back. his eyes are wide and cheeks ruddy as he tries so hard to keep cool because you’re so close 😍🥺💕 and god does he hope what he wrote was coherent because he thinks he’d d-word if you said it made no sense 😓😵

kuroo: when you’re sitting next to someone and they lean over and reach across you to grab something another day, another group project. kuroo gets added to a group with you and another guy because he was absent for volleyball. the two of you push your desks next to him and he’s fist pumping internally because you’re sitting next to HIM and not the other guy and he gets to act as the barrier AHAHAH 😇🥳😛

you’re working together when you ask one of your friends to pass over the notes she took from you. she’s sitting in front of kuroo, but diagonally to the right so she leans back and you lean forward to grab the papers. your arm accidentally brushes his chest and kuroo short circuits 😶 you’re SO CLOSE and your body is nearly laid over his entire desk and if he moves his hands up he could probably touch your chest HJAKHSDLKASD 👁👄👁 the guy next to him looks at him all 😐 as kuroo goes INSANE 🤯

kita: hugging from behind he’s home alone, studying in the living room for his university exams. you’re in the kitchen with his grandma helping her with tonight’s dinner. he smiles softly to himself hearing the two of you laugh 😊🥰💞

he’s halfway through a derivatives question when you hug him from behind, arms coming around him as you rest your head on his shoulder blades 🥺💘 when you softly tell him dinner is almost ready, his chest warms and a soft smile appears on his face ❤️💖

atsumu: the guys strapping you in on a roller coaster. are we gonna kiss? why are you giving me that eye contact? inarizaki’s vbc get together to go to the local amusement park!! they get in and the first thing the twins want to do is ride all of the roller coasters so after a ridiculously long line up, atsumu’s sitting next to osamu, waiting for an attendant to come buckle them in, when you suddenly come up in your cute uniform and hair tied up and atsumu’s like SHIT ITS YOU 😳 also damn y didn’t you tell him you worked here he could have gotten discounted tickets smh 🥴😒

anyways you come up to them to buckle them up with him first and he doesn’t really notice anything but you buckle the first strap really tight and he’s like “does it need to be so tight 😘” and you tell him, making eye contact, using your best customer service voice (vocal bottoming but at least you get paid) and with a pretty smile on your face that doesn’t reach your eyes, “yes, unless you want to die. and if you do, don’t do it on this ride because my shift ends in ten minutes and i don’t want to stay here to write a report about a dumbass who ko’d on a roller coaster 🥰” and he BLUSHES oop— 👁👅👁

osamu: having your back scratched you sit next to each other in class and it’s self study time and you’re helping him with the english homework that was assigned when his back starts feeling itchy. he rolls and moves his shoulders to try to alleviate it, but it just isn’t working so he brings a hand back to scratch at it, but he’s not flexible enough to reach it 😔 you ask him what’s wrong and he puts his arm down like he got burned because he doesn’t want to be seen doing something weird in front of you or making a weird face so he just says nothing but you raise a brow and go “are you itchy?” and he nods JAJCKKAD

you bring your arm up to where he was just scratching, “here?” a shake of his head, “no, a little to the right.” AND YOU SCRATCH RIGHT AT IT!!!!! he can feel his shoulders slump as he closes his eyes and groans a little WHOOP he’s SUPER EMBARRASSED but you just laugh it off and scratch him some more before going back to work and he looks at you like 🥺💖 why’d you stop?? even though you’re not even looking at him LOL 😞 touches his back that night in the shower like your hands were so small 😯😍😳 and maybe he should be itchy more often but it also quickly turns to she better not be touchy feely with anyone else 😒

suna: someone writing on your arm he’s forced to take this one evening class this semester because it’s not offered the next one and he needs to take it because it’s a prereq for almost every other course ugh but at least the cute girl who sits next to him lets him copy her notes LMFAO 😭💀 he left all his belongings in the gym’s lockers because he was going to go back anyways for practice so when the professor gives out a code for a free trial of the software they have to use for the homework assignment due in a week, he’s like shit; he left his phone in his bag 🤡💔

you offer to write it down on his arm, grabbing a pen from your pencil case. he nods like sure why not so you take his arm and push the sleeve of his hoodie up and start writing and he just stares at you 👀 your writing is cute and he kinda likes the feel of your hands on him 🤧 class ends and you part ways with a wave. It’s not until he’s reached the gym that he realized you could have just messaged the code to him on facebook 🤨 so he pushes his sleeve up and sees your phone number on his arm under the code 😘 aren’t you smooth!!! 😌

iwaizumi: when someone is putting the car in reverse and they put their hand on the back of your seat iwaizumi been interested in you for a while, and ever since he came to the revelation he finds it really hard to talk to you because he’s afraid of coming off too aggressive or you figuring it out 😔💔 good thing kindaichi reveals that you’re his older cousin and that you’ll be driving some of them to their next practice match because the volleyball team’s bus is out for a checkup!! 😍😘 oikawa, matsukawa and hanamaki all force him to sit shotgun as you drive (even kunimi and yahaba get in on it). iwaizumi grumbles about it and all but he’s secretly super happy he gets to be right next to you omg 👀😭 he takes a bunch of glances around the interior of your (parents’) car and sits a little straighter than he usually would.

he can feel the stares on the back of his head from the other third years egging him on to make a move and just when he works up the nerve to say something to you, you put the car in reverse to back out the parking spot and put your hand on the back of his seat 😳😤 iwaizumi thinks you look so cool AND HOT he clams up and just stares at you with his jaw slightly open 👁👄👁 💕pls save him 🤧

matsukawa: when a girl puts her hand up to yours and remarks on how yours is so much bigger you got randomly paired up with each other to do a presentation for your world history class and so you’re sitting next to each other on a saturday afternoon at the public library doing research together. matsukawa spent more time than he would like thinking about what to wear because he doesn’t want you to think that his fashion sense was as grotesque as the school’s khaki pants 😷🤢 (when you complimented him nonchalantly about how he looks a million times better in casual clothes compared to the school uniform and joking said that he should start a petition to get rid of the school’s ugly khaki plaid pants and skirts and use a photo of what he was wearing today as the main piece of evidence, he almost doubles over 💀)

you’re sitting next to each other and he’s still kinda reeling from the previous interaction ahjdalhd but he does his best to pull his weight. he’s taking notes in a notebook and you look over and comment out of the blue that his hands are really big as you look at yours 🤧👀 he blinks and looks at you like “yeah?” and you nod, putting your hand up and he does it too because he thinks he’s having a fever dream at this point, but not even in his wildest dream did he’’d ever think you’d push your palm against his and say “your hand is so big! 😳” he has to excuse himself to go to the washroom to scream 😘🥰❤️

hanamaki: when you’re sitting next to someone on public transport and the centrifugal force from the vehicle firmly mooshes the two of you together hanamaki pines for you silently and you can’t really tell he likes you because he’s pretty decent at keeping his emotions hidden. or maybe you’re just so busy with your senior year you don’t notice anything that isn’t the impending doom of university applications and keeping your grades up 😤😇 anyways the two of you get on and off at the same stop each day (which he secretly thanks god for 😭) and you’re sitting next to each other and hanamaki thinks he’s gonna combust because you’ve never been this close!! 🥺🥰

he can feel his hands getting sweaty already. hanamaki sneaks glances at you and tries to see what you’re doing on your phone LMFAO suddenly, the train lurches a bit and you slide from the inertia right into his side and then he can feel the warmth coming from your thighs, side and your shoulder are touching holy sh— 😭❤️😵👀💖 you look up to apologize as he takes a breath and you’re a little shy in your apology but he takes that chance to ask you about something mundane and he makes you laugh!!!! he thinks about the interaction for the next two weeks because he finally got to talk to you dhaskld ☺️🥺💕

kyoutani: when anyone raises their arms to stretch and their shirt gets lifted up slightly gym class—you’re doing timed runs today!! kyoutani is already finished with his so he’s just sitting off the side of the track, staring not-so-subtly at you but you don’t notice because it’s your turn next!! you’ve got the typical school mandated shorts and plain t-shirt on but kyou is all 👀 at your tastefully exposed skin. he thinks you look pretty with the sun hitting your face as you give a smile to your friend, squinting at the sun light 🥰

he’s just mindlessly staring at this point but then you raise your arms to stretch your triceps and the hem of your shirt rises up a little to expose the tiniest sliver of skin before it’s covered again 👁👁 his cheeks pink a little and you catch him looking LMFAO but you don’t think anything of it and just smile and wave as kyoutani burns bright red, heart battering against his ribs and looks away 😡🤡🥰💕 he saves it for future reference HURDURDUR 😇😛

ushijima: when a woman does that thing where she tucks her hair behind her ear while making direct eye contact ushijima is INTERESTED in you, likes you, is intrigued, would like to hold your hand and rub the back of your hand and feel the soft skin with his thumb—same thing 🥰 you’re talking to him about something for the cultural festival and he’s nodding along to what you’re saying because you’re so brilliant and responsible for working on the school festival committee wOW 🤩

time seems to move in slow motion as you look up him whilst tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. he zones in on the shy smile on your face, your cute cheeks, glossy lips and pretty eyes 🥺🥰 “ushijima-san?” “yes?” “what do you think?” “that’s a great idea, I will ask my team members for their input as well.” you nod exuberantly even though he has no idea what you’re talking about but your cute smile makes him all mushy on the inside 💖💕

semi: making eye contact with another customer at the grocery store around the same age it’s 2:11pm on a tuesday and semi’s at the grocery store because it’s summer and his mom was all “go to the store and buy these shimeji mushrooms for me, eita, they’re on sale!!! but only until 3pm so get skedaddling!” 😩 so he’s here and he swears housewives are the most powerful people on the planet because he thought he was gonna d-word just tryna get his discount mushrooms. he spots you in the condiments aisle looking at sesame oil and he gives you the up, down and lingers a little too long on your exposed legs 💀

he thinks you look really cute in your t-shirt and jean shorts though 🥰 when you look up and make eye contact with him and give him a little smile and wave he BLUSHES 🥺 and is right about to take the chance to talk to you but a granny hip checks him trying to get to the soybean paste and he almost trips and lands on his face 😔💔 so much for looking cool in front of you 😢🥺

tendou: having someone else play with your hair satori sees you on cleaning duty carrying the recycling to the bins as he finishes his runs around the school, about to make a turn to the gyms. he makes a beeline for you, calling your name with a bright smile on his face and waving his arms in the air. 🥰💞🥺

he bounds up to you and offers to help even though the bin is really light, cheeks warming at your smile 😊 when he takes the bin out of your hands , you wave your hand to get him to bend down. he complies, eyes widening when he feels your hand in his hair. he straightens up to see you holding onto a couple pieces of cherry blossom petals 🌸 he laughs bashfully; it feels like time has slowed and you’re the only two people in the world 💖💕

sakusa: if you’re on a pc/laptop, somebody leaning over your shoulder to look at the screen with you. the close proximity of your faces can feel awkwardly sexual you’re in the same kinesiology class and sakusa first noticed how GOOD your presentations are wtf and he’s even more impressed when he hears that you winged the whole thing because “i conveniently forgot about this until one in the morning when I decided it was a good time to reorganize your entire dorm room” ALSO you offered him hand cream the one time you caught him staring and against all reason he said yes and ever since he’s been dying to ask you where you got it from because HOLY was it nice 😍

you get paired up for the final pair presentation and he’s only become more interested in you! you’re easy to talk to and don’t pry too much and he finds himself oversharing at times 💀 the professor gives the class part of the lecture time to work on the projects so you’re sitting next to each other working when he asks you a question about the academic article he just found and you lean over his shoulder to look at his screen 👁👁 for anyone else, the close proximity of your faces would have grossed him out but he can’t stop thinking about how good you smell and how cute your ears look 👀🥰 when you tell him he’s found a really good source with an excited smile on your face, he BLUSHES and promptly wants to pass away because he has no mask on to cover him 🤡😭😵

sachiro: when you have a melting popsicle, there often comes a time where you must choose between eating it too quickly, or sucking it off so it doesn’t drip on you sachiro hums happily, holding your hand as the two of you walk home after your date and stopping at the convenience store where he buys the two of you popsicle sticks 😋

you’re talking about something funny you saw hoshiumi do in the class the other day when your popsicle drips onto you. you kitten lick at your hand and take the whole thing in your mouth to get rid of the more liquidy parts of your ice cream and sachiro is all 👁👄👁 he swallows thickly, cheeks warming and heart beating a little faster; why’s he suddenly so thirsty? 🥵💦🙈

gao: getting a strong whiff of somebody’s perfume when they pass you gao really wants to talk to you, like really really wants to talk to you 😖😭🙏 but you’re talking to your friends about something and the cute way you laughs and joke with them has him all 🥺🥰🤩

he’s about to walk up and join the conversation because let’s face it, gao isn’t afraid of much 🤧💀 too bad the teacher calls you back into the classroom about something. when you pass him, he gets a good whiff of your shampoo and his stomach flutters 😍😊🥺💕💖 follows you with sparkly eyes and wishes he made the choice to talk to you sooner 💔

futakuchi: bending over to pick up something you dropped kenji is watching (glaring) as you talk to one of the baseball team’s starting players 🤐 he’s so ticked but he doesn’t admit it like where does this guy get off making you laugh and smile like that wtf 😒🙄 luckily for kenji, the guy gets pulled away by the class rep for something so kenji calls your name to get you to look at him instead 😤

you come over and just as he’s about to stand up from his desk, he knocks over his eraser. you crouch down to pick it up and he finds himself really liking it 👁👁 he doesn’t get it either 🤡 like you aren’t bending and snapping—just folding your knees to get his eraser for him, but the way you tucked your hair behind your ear before you bent down so prettily has him ☺️😉🥵

terushima: when you’re eating and chatting with someone and they lick their lips yuuji pulled you away from your friends when it was time for lunch, wanting to spend more time with you one on one. he was so busy with volleyball and school lately 😞 and when he managed to get you to tell him how lonely you felt without him, he made it his mission to spend more time with you!!! 🥰😘💕

you’re eating together, sharing food and talking about everything and anything when he notices you lick your lips; he zones in on your little pink tongue as it swipes across your bottom lip 👁👁 “yuuji, you okay?” a hand on your cheek and suddenly, he’s kissing you. he tastes like the leftovers your mom packed you for lunch 🥰😋

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moonrazeeclipse · 3 years ago

Text

Day at the Amusement Park.

The last time I went to an amusement park was when I was 12 years-old. My memories have been mostly shaky, but what I can remember was the happiness and joy I felt with my mother and father.

It’s been tough for me to have fun these days. Being a 23 year-old working a typical nine-to-five shift made it difficult to have time for myself. Stressed about the quotas, the numbers, job stability, and everything else in between. Good sleep has eluded me for months.

Then I look at my girlfriend, Nicha, and my hope has never been brighter.

Ah, Nicha. Everyone else knew and recognized her as Minnie, but the closest to her called her by her real name. If I thought an average office job was a grindfest, then hers was a gauntlet. Idol life meant she had to be up as early as 3 A.M. and she’d run through several sets of makeup, practice, interviews, and appearances. During one of her off days she and her members visited my building while I just so happen to be on coffee break. One funny stare and the next thing I knew, we were hiding our relationship from the whole world.

No matter how exhausted she got, she kept that same positive, happy energy as if she had unlimited battery life. Each occasional glance as I drove to the old amusement park, she was beaming, singing along to the songs on the radio, like she were a child. This was one of her rare off days where they didn’t have any schedules, so maybe that’s the reason why she’s extra joyful too.

The park itself hadn’t changed much since I last visited all those years back. The entrance looked rusted and devoid of any life or color. There seemed to be way fewer people visiting as well. Nicha offered to take me to that newer park with those virtual reality simulators, but I turned it down with a chuckle, saying that I wasn’t making enough money to spend a day there. Regardless, we entered the place, her hand holding mine, dragging me with the brightest smile on her face.

Whatever she wanted to do, I followed along. Nicha ran ahead of me, acting like a child and not a famous, recognizable idol. Being around me must be freeing for her; she could be herself when I’m with her. None of the rides were renovated or refashioned, which gave me that nostalgic feel. Because there weren’t that many visitors, waiting only took less than ten minutes for each ride. Despite my motion sickness, I powered through the first roller coaster without a problem. The second one? I recalled hurling up minutes after getting off that one as a child. Nicha screamed her heart out on the first coaster, but was overcome by fear on the second. She leaned into my chest while I was fighting every urge not to puke mid-ride. I sought a barf bag once we got off, making her laugh.

“Ahaha! You look hilarious!” Nicha mocked.

“Why are you gloating? Don’t act like you were hiding your face on my chest.” I retorted. She blushed in embarrassment before pretending to run away. No matter how much she loved to make fun of me, I couldn’t get upset. Her wholesome smiles made her a great person to hang out with.

Walking along the park, we came across a row of booths. These booths offered challenges in exchange for prizes. Dad won me a basketball as a reward back then. Even with age, one of the game masters somehow recognized me by my eyes.

“Hey, hey! It’s been a long time! You’re all grown now!” He said, calling my attention.

“Oh, hey. How did you recognize my face?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You have your father’s eyes, that’s why! How’s he doing?” He changed the subject.

“Umm, great I guess.” I honestly didn’t know how to answer, since I haven’t spoken to him in years.

Nicha suddenly came in from behind and hugged me. The game master’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Oh! Is this your girlfriend? Why don’t you step up and show her your father’s talent?” He challenged me on the spot. I sighed as Nicha moved right next to me. Her beaming eyes and bright smile gave me more pressure to do well.

I was poor at sports, so I wondered how bad I’d mess up at ring toss. I didn’t have deft hands like my dad, and I wasn’t practicing at all. I’m better with keyboards, I murmured under my breath as he gave me the rings. First toss. The ring hit the bottle. My eyes widened. Second toss. The bottle was a little more distant than the first. I threw the ring and to my surprise, it hit too. Shock drowned out my girlfriend’s cheers and the yell of the game master. One more ring, one more toss. The bottle was placed at a greater distance compared to the earlier ones. I was doing better than I thought, so maybe my luck would run out on this turn. I flung the last ring, and time seemingly slowed down as I released it from my grip.

One, two, three, four, five. Bingo.

Nicha hugged me in celebration. I made all three tosses as the game master applauded me. Wow. Honestly, that may have been divine intervention, considering how awful I am at these games. It must have been five minutes before I moved because I stayed frozen in place, unable to let my victory sink in.

“You do have your father’s genes in you after all! Go ahead and pick a prize.” The game master said, snapping me back to reality.

I turned to Nicha, implying that she could choose the prize. She took the hint and pointed at a gigantic brown teddy bear. The game master grabbed it from the shelf and handed it over to me. I gave the stuffed animal to her, and she buried her face on its belly.

“Aaahh it’s so fluffy! You’re really good at this, Minki!” She cuddled the bear as I just chuckled and waved goodbye to the game master.

The rest of our day at the park was just riding the rest of the attractions and eating an ice cream sandwich along the way. Nicha and I had so much fun together, refusing to let go of the teddy bear. The sun had set and nightfall came, and our time was almost up. But before we left, there was one more ride we hadn’t gone in. The ferris wheel.

The passenger cabins were suited for four people, so we hopped on one, including our stuffed animal. She placed the bear next to her as the wheel began moving. From where I sat I could see the bright lights of the highway, overlooking the specks of people thousands of feet in the air. Nicha looked out the window before turning to me, taking my hand.

“I’ve had so much fun with you today,” she said, caressing my hand gently and pecking it. “Thank you.”

I gazed into her eyes, gleaming brighter than the stars in the night sky. She stared back at me, looking at me the same way. Then something sprung in me to lock lips with her. Nicha sunk into the kiss, pulling me close and our tongues swirled with each other. She was sweeter and tastier than dessert. I cupped her cheek and she placed her palm on mine, running it across her face.

She broke the kiss and slowly spread my legs. I panicked a little because of the situation we’re in. Nicha feigned ignorance and unbuttoned my pants, pulling them down alongside my boxers.

“Nicha! We’re still in public, remember?”

“Your cock says otherwise,” she replied, slapping my hardened cock with her hand. “I’ve been missing you so much. I can’t help myself.”

She seized my balls, giving them a rub. “You’re full. You’ve been missing me too.”

I groaned as she kissed me from my balls, making her way up to my tip. Her soft lips felt so good on my shaft. She looked at me with widened eyes, satisfied with the pleasure she’s giving me. I slumped into my seat and closed my eyes, allowing the euphoria of her swirling tongue to override my brain. If that wasn’t enough, she added her sensual moans into her slurps, giving me tingles up my spine.

My hands flowed through her black locks, while the rest of my body just numbed in pleasure. I didn’t realize she took me in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks. Nicha bobbed her head back and forth, coating my shaft with her saliva. We didn’t care if anyone caught us in the lewd act. Nicha had her way with me and my body happily fell under control.

Pop. She released me from her mouth after blowing me off for a while. I was really sinking into that excitable feeling too. Appropriate timing too, as she finished up just as the car was about to reach ground level. I quickly buttoned up my pants as she pretended like she didn’t suck my cock leaving the pod.

We reached my car just as the park was closing, and she gave me a few pecks on the cheek. “When we get home, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Sure, baby. I’ll let you fuck me wherever you want.” The thought of her splayed body already riled me up and I couldn’t be any more excited to drive home.

I turned the key. Rough gruffs roared from the engine. Again. Gruffs. In frustration I slapped my hands against the steering wheel. The car couldn’t start. Fuck.

“I just had it checked last week,” I grumbled. It was second hand but I didn’t have any excuse. Nicha giggled. She was still smiling as she watched me suffer and curse my car out. Oh, no matter how terrible a day gets, you’re always the jovial one.

Conveniently there was a subway station nearby whose line started and ended at the park. We both got out of the car and decided to take the train home. Nicha still refused to let go of the teddy bear.

Entering one of the cars, we sat at the back end of the left row. All the walking wore our legs out, so I slumped down in my seat. Nicha set the bear at the corner chair before sitting beside me. Drowsiness began kicking in and soon enough, I fell into a deep sleep holding my girlfriend’s hand tightly.

I felt a sensation below my chest that woke me up. My eyes opened slowly, vision blurring my sight. I looked to my left and saw only the teddy bear. She probably went to the bathroom, I thought. I tried going back to sleep, but I felt that twitching in my stomach again. I looked down and to my surprise, my pants were on the ground. Nicha was on her knees, sucking my erect cock.

“Nicha! What did I say about doing this in public?” I whispered, trying to avoid causing a disturbance with the nearby passengers.

She responded by taking more of me into her mouth, making me moan with her humming sounds. “Mmph, I can’t help myself. Your cock rubbed on me as we slept.”

It took all of my willpower not to submit to pleasure, but I was able to scout the area. There weren’t a lot of people on this late train ride home, except a man wearing a business suit calling someone on his phone seated on the opposite aisle.

I slowly hopped from one chair to the next using the rail, keeping Nicha busy on my shaft without her letting go into it. My free hands lifted the stuffed bear from its seat and placed it to where I was sitting. The prized toy was huge enough to act as camouflage from unsuspecting train-goers.

“Yeah. Let’s discuss the business trip to Japan at the cafe. I’ll move up so you can spot me as I get off,” the man said as he stood up from his seat and trudged to the front.

I sighed a breath of relief, but that was only a temporary win. I looked below to see how Nicha was doing and my eyes widened. She stripped off her overalls as her bare legs were now exposed.

“Nicha!” I almost screamed, panicking at the situation she’d got us into. She giggles at my reaction before kissing my tip with her soft lips.

“While you were busy covering us up I took my overalls off. I really can’t wait for you to fill me inside.” She said matter-of-factly.

I groaned in annoyance but I couldn’t help myself. She was opening herself and I guess my patience ran out too.

“We still have a few more stops to go before our stop,” She added, stroking me with her fingers.

My psyche crumbled under her control again. I resisted her lips, but not her hands rapidly pumping my cock. I threw my head back and allowed the pleasure to jack my brain, grazing my hands on her hair again.

I must have drowned deeply to the delight of Nicha’s handjob that I ignored the dings and voice of the operator over the speaker indicating the train’s destination. My eyes, struggling to open, somehow caught a glimpse of a few new passengers entering the car. Quickly I bent over and took her overalls as well as my large coat and veiled my crotch. She continued jerking me off under the covers, eager to get me to orgasm. The commuters gave me either weird or neutral looks as they walked by. I gave them a gaze of exhaustion, pretending as if I was ill. I just hope they didn’t notice the suspicious bulge below me.

Most of the travelers moved onto another cabin but some of them sat a few rows behind or ahead of ours. Thankfully none decided to sit in the same aisle as us. My hands, which were positioned on my lap, were grabbed by Nicha. She led it down to her clit and I felt her wetness. Even with some bush she was clearly dripping.

“Fuck me, please,” She whispered, each word laced with lust. “I’m so wet for you, babe.”

I hoisted her from the floor and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I rose for a minute before sitting down with her on me. I carefully lined my shaft against her crotch before burying my cock in her walls. She let out a lengthy, low moan as I started ramming into her tight pussy. My hands snuck through her shirt, pinching her taut nipples, making her squeal.

I could feel her juices cream my hair as I grinded back and forth, making sure she feels every inch of my length. One hand escapes her shirt to cover her mouth, preventing her from letting out wild screams. I pulled her face close to mine, her features indicating pleasure as our lips met for a shaky, passionate kiss.

As we continued making out my eyes caught a glimpse of a stewardess slowly making her way across the cabin, punching passengers’ tickets. I broke the kiss off and drove Nicha into my chest, bundling our bodies with her overalls and my coat. The attendant reached us, her formal smile shifting to a confused look at the weird image ahead of her.

“Oh I’m sorry, is she okay?” She asked matter-of-factly.

“Y-yeah. She’s just a little ill, so I’m warming her up, that’s all.” I answered, nodding repeatedly.

Nicha sold my act by freezing in my arms. I reached into my coat and pulled out two tickets. She punched them and smiled as she walked by, believing my lie.

My girlfriend looked me in the eyes, lust ridden over them. I squeal as her finger reaches my cock, still buried in her soaked cunt, stroking me off. Through the pleasant sensation I managed to keep my eyes alert, watching the passengers slowly leave one by one at the next stop. Now it was just the two of us in this cable car.

“We’re alone. Fuck me,” She said as the train started moving again.

Perhaps her eagerness drove me to thrust into her a lot faster than I thought. I rocked back and forth on the chair, drilling her with my shaft. Nicha closed her eyes and let the pleasure fill her, her mouth making a wide ‘O’ shape. At this point we ran out of care for our surroundings, made clear by our audible moaning. Her hands claw my nape and hair deeply, her slender figure bouncing up and down my lap.

The tightness of her pussy, as well as her soft, seductive moans made it hard for me to keep control. I was losing another round to her lewdness and this one would be the hardest of them all. I was all but ready to climax, only slowing down my pumps to keep the euphoria last longer.

“F-fuck, I’m going to cum,” I whispered.

“On me. Fill me, please. Fill me with your cum.”

One. Two. Three. With a heavy groan I reached my peak. I felt shots of warm semen fill her womb. I pumped through my orgasm, shooting flecks of cum in her until I was drained. My hips stopped grinding. I put my head down in exhaustion over that intense, risky session. She cupped my face then kissed me on the cheek.

“T-that was s-so g-good. I can’t wait until we get home for more.”

There’s a clear trail of white on my chair and on my pants. My cock slipped out of her slit as I set her down on the ground.

“This is the last station! Thank you for riding with us.” The operator announced over the intercom. We’re almost at our destination.

I pulled her overalls off my coat and threw it at Nicha. “Put these on, we still have to walk home.”

“I don’t wanna,” she pouted. “I want to go home with your cum dripping down on me.”

I sighed. Nicha decided to be bratty on the way home, when everything was almost perfect and after all we’ve been through. But what else can I do?

I gave her my coat as I took her overalls and placed it in my bag. We got off the train with her wearing my coat, our mixed juices still running down her legs. We enjoyed our little walk home, having forgotten the prized teddy bear that she was attached to all day long, but that didn’t matter. As soon as we reached home, we stuffed our bodies into each other throughout the night.

—————

And that’s my first work done. I didn’t do a lot of editing as I was excited to publish this one. I finally decided to jump into the world of smut writing after being inspired for a while now. Thank you for reading!

#kpop smut #smut #g idle #minnie

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hotchseyebrows · 3 years ago

Text

thoughtfulness in little things

a derek morgan x penelope garcia fic

a/n: can you believe that is my first ever full length morcia fic? me? resident morcia nut? wow. what a world. anyway!! i hope yall like this (and if you noticed it was already on ao3 earlier today shhh this is a scheduled tumblr post im Sleeping rn) and hopefully i dont take 4 months in between posting fics again, but i make no promises!!! my brain is Evil

thank you @blkantigone for being my beta and thank you @derekmorqan for letting me barf 1k of this in our dms a while back, i love you both sm

they do kiss a fair bit in this (it is, in fact, a first kiss fic) and its a little steamy, but by no means explicit and is rated teens and up on ao3 :)

read it here on ao3!!

Penelope splutters. “Sugar, you don’t have to stay here with me, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

He shrugs. “How am I supposed to party when my best girl is stuck at work?”

Everything changes during a late night in Penelope's batcave. But really, nothing changes at all.

word count: 3000

Friday nights without a case are a rare treasure for SSA Hotchner’s highly sought after team of profilers. Normally, Derek and Penelope would be taking advantage of the freedom by dancing all night, but sometimes the universe has other plans.

Penelope used this week’s case-free time to put the finishing touches on an antivirus and security software of her own creation. The personal information of her beloved BAU babies was a hot commodity well worth the additional protection, and she’s always looking for a reason to fiddle with Quantico’s servers. It ended up being a whole production, taking the entire afternoon and then some. Apparently, she still doesn’t have all of the permissions required to make certain adjustments which means that she’s fiddling and bending her way into all of the things she needs to do. If that wasn’t bad enough, the whole damn thing crashed around 4:00. She managed not to pull her hair out, but it was a close thing and it set her back at least an extra hour.

Derek stops by a little after 5, his jacket slung over his shoulder. “Baby girl, I can hear the bottles of DC’s finest vodka and Hennessy calling our names, are you almost ready to leave for the day?” He pauses in the door, taking in her furious typing and furrowed brow. “Whoa, Mama, what’s the matter? You’ve got Hotch’s eyebrows.”

She throws her arms up. “The entirety of the FBI and also the world is getting on my nerves!” He walks over to her, leaning on the side of her chair and turning her away from her monitor. His hands gently grab both of hers and he rubs a soothing circle with one of his thumbs.

“Explain, baby girl.”

She does, eventually just ranting and raving about how annoying it is to still be put in metaphorical handcuffs by the FBI as if she can’t just do what she wants anyway. “I’m not even breaking any rules, technically, they’re just making things annoying and long winded.” She sighs, moving her hands to interlock their fingers. “But now that it’s started, it would be doubly annoying to stop it and come back later. So I’m stuck here until it’s done, which might take a while.”

He nods, thinking. Then he straightens up, grabs the extra rolling chair, and sits down.

Penelope splutters. “Sugar, you don’t have to stay here with me, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

He shrugs. “How am I supposed to party when my best girl is stuck at work?” She blushes, turning away to hide it on instinct.

“You cheeseball.” She spins around to lightly push on his arm. He just smiles.

They sit together for 20 minutes in relative silence as she continues her work. It’s a comfortable silence; his occasional humming soothes her rising annoyance at how needlessly long this is taking. She can hear him playing with one of the fidget toys she keeps on her desk behind him. When she gets to another point of sitting and waiting, she turns towards him and asks him about his day. He tells her about how Prentiss helped him get Reid back for a prank by distracting him in the break room while he switched out the keyboard of Reid’s computer with an identical one with a grass garden planted inside. “It’s a long con for sure, but I’m hoping it sprouts this weekend.”

She laughs. “How long did it take you to set this up, dumpling?” She already knows the answer, but it’s nice to see his slightly sheepish but proud look about his dedication to his prank war. Her computer beeps at her, and she spins back around to begin working again.

He rolls closer, avoiding her question and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You getting hungry yet?”

She relaxes, leaning against him. As if on cue, her stomach grumbles. “Yes, I’d say so.”

He leans over and moves a strand of hair out of her face. “Okay baby girl, I’ll go grab us food and be right back.” She nods, lifting her cheek on instinct to meet the kiss she knows is coming. He stands and sure enough, leans down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll be quick. Be good.”

“How can I do anything else if you’re not here?” She bats her eyes up at him.

He grins. “Oh, I’m sure you’d think of something.” He brushes his knuckles against her cheek. It makes her shiver.

She watches him leave, catching the kiss he blows at her from the door. Turning back to focus on her work, it feels like she blinks and he’s back. A glance at the clock tells her it’s been over a half hour. He puts the bag of food onto the table before coming to pull her away from the computer.

“One minute, I promise, I’m so close to just letting this thing run for a little.” He twirls her hair around his fingers before dropping his hands onto her shoulders, rubbing away the tension. A minute and a half later, she leans back in her chair with a sigh. She tilts her head back and sticks her tongue out at him. He smiles at her.

"Come eat, baby girl. Don't think you're getting out of eating my hard won dinner." He moves to the table and pulls out her chair. She follows and sits.

"Hard won — mon cher, you didn't tackle a wild animal and lug it home to our log cabin in the woods, you drove your car 20 minutes."

He kisses her temple, handing her a pair of chopsticks. "Yeah, but I would lug home whatever you needed anytime, so the sentiment is the same."

She smiles and knocks their feet together under the table lightly. He moves his chair, so they are sitting right next to each other on the same side of the table. The heat from his arm is palpable.

Derek grabs a box from the bag and splits the vegan pad thai within onto two paper plates. He opens the box of spring rolls and places it in between them while she places napkins in front of them both. He pops the cap off of her bottle of lemonade without her asking, and sets that in front of her too. “Thank you, handsome.” He smiles in response. They start eating and the comfortable silence returns.

She talks him through what she still needs to do to fix everything in between bites, even though she knows he doesn't really understand her technobabble. But Penelope can feel his eyes on her, and without looking, she somehow knows that something has shifted in the air around them.

"What?" she asks, turning her attention away from gesturing at her computer with the chopsticks. "Do I have something on my face?"

He chuckles. "Actually, yes, c'mere." He brushes away a stray spot of sauce on the corner of her lips with a gentle swipe of his thumb. The rest of his hand stills on her cheek. She shivers. She can see him notice it, his attention focusing in on her. Penelope's blood is thundering in her ears as he glances in between her lips and her eyes.

She leans purposefully into his hand. His thumb brushes over her lips again and her mouth falls open a little.

"Penelope, I-" he cuts himself off with a hard swallow. "Penelope." His eyes flicker down to her lips and back up to her eyes quickly again.

She can only blink at him for a moment. "Yes, Derek?"

"I don't kn- um. Can I-" She's never seen him flustered and unsure like this. But they've never been out of sync before and they aren't about to start now, so she nods, bringing up a hand to rest on his. A smile grows on his face before he starts to lean in. His hand slides along her cheek to more firmly grip her face- it makes her gasp.

He pauses, thinking something is wrong. "Penelope, are y-" Her heart swells at how careful he is to take care of her always, and she meets him in the middle, pressing their lips together in a soft, purposeful kiss.

For a moment, all is still. The world boils down to just the place where their lips are touching. Their lips barely brush against one another, but already Penelope feels light headed. Derek separates their lips for a moment before kissing her again, a firmer touch this time. She sucks in a breath through her nose. His lips are incredibly kind- that’s the only word for it. He doesn’t seem to know the word “take” right now because all she can feel from him is “give.” As he presses into the kiss and gently cups the side of her face, her brain wildly spins through thoughts about how of course he’s like this even when kissing her and how good he smells and how she can’t believe they haven’t done this sooner.

He draws her closer against him, pressing into the kiss more insistently before bringing his other hand up to her face and holding her. His fingers move to cup the sides of her neck and she tilts her head to the left a touch, letting her mouth fall open in a sigh. He makes a soft noise before tentatively sliding their tongues together. A full body shiver runs down her spine and through her limbs. Another small noise falls from the back of his throat. Her stomach swoops like they've just dropped down the side of a huge arch in a roller coaster. She places both hands on his chest, pressing forward. He moves with her, chair squeaking underneath him as he presses closer, one arm snaking around her back. Penelope’s heart pounds even louder. His tongue is gentle even in its insistence as their kiss turns slightly desperate.

It feels like someone has lit a fire underneath Penelope’s chair, warmth washing over her whole body and radiating out from everywhere they touch. One of his hands tangles into her hair as he gently tilts her head back. If she wasn’t sitting her knees would have buckled so long ago, but now she would absolutely be on the floor. It’s no surprise that Derek Morgan is an incredible kisser, but knowing something and knowing something is so different.

He pulls back, letting their foreheads rest together. Her eyes stay closed, tingles radiating from everywhere his fingers are tenderly holding her face. She tightens her grip on his shirt. He kisses the tip of her nose. "You still with me, baby girl?"

She nods, breathless. She slowly opens her eyes and smiles at him. "Hi." It's the first thing she thinks to say.

He laughs. "Hey you."

She has so many questions- how long have you wanted to do that, can we do that again right now, can we do so much more right now, right here- but before she can ask any of them, her computer beeps loudly. "Oh!" She jumps at the sudden noise. He drops his hands and leans back, looking far too much like the cat who got the cream. "I should- right, I should deal with that," she says, standing on shaky legs. Heels were never so precarious. Of course, there is no hiding from a profiler.

He grins up at her. "Need some assistance?" His eyes are shining like he's hiding a joke. She scrunches her nose at him, biting back a smile.

"Oh, hush you. I’m perfectly capable of walking 3 feet, thank you very much." Her tenacity is a little undercut from the way her hands are trembling a little as she smooths her skirt, but still. The point remains.

He raises his hands in surrender. "Alright baby girl, go on then."

She walks over to her computer and stays standing to fiddle with the wires behind it before bending over at the keyboard and reading the report on the screen. "It shouldn't be much longer now, it just needs to run the last new anti-virus- what?" He's leaning back in his seat and staring at her, a small smile dancing on his lips.

"What, Mama?" But he knows what, clearly evident from the way he is trying to school his expression into something innocent.

She blushes. "Derek Morgan, I don't know what I'm going to do if you keep looking at me like that."

"Oh, I don't know. I might have some ideas."

She sucks in a sharp inhale through her nose. Playing nonchalant, she turns back to her computer. "Well, I might have to hear your ideas out."

"Yeah?"

She glances at him out of the corner of her eye and he's grinning.

"Yeah." she says, not trusting what will come out of her mouth if she elaborates (probably something along the lines of “I’d listen to all your ideas, do your ideas include any semblance of forever, if you keep grinning like that I'm gonna lock the door and do something reckless”).

They sit in relative silence, just the sounds of her typing filling the room. When she finishes, she spins her chair around. "Hi," she says again.

"Hi baby," he responds.

Her fingers twist and curl the hem of her skirt. "So, uh, well, that's gonna take at least another 30 minutes to finish running."

He raises one eyebrow. "30 minutes, huh?"

She nods. "Might be a good time for some of those ideas."

He stands and walks across the room to her. She takes his offered hand and stands as well. They stay there, inches apart and holding hands as the charged atmosphere around them seems to crackle. In the same breath, they lean in to kiss again. Both of her arms wrap around his neck as he tucks his around her waist. He pulls her against him, fully pressed together as the soft kiss deepens into something heated and desperate.

He bites her bottom lip gently before the kiss turns open mouthed and slick. She arches against him as they slide into a slow rhythm. She feels fluttery, like his arms are the only anchor point in the whole world and if he let her go, she’d simply float away. He tastes like lemonade, sweet and alive. She hums as he tracks his hands in a slow circle at the base of her spine. Her knees really do buckle a little as he attempts to tug her closer, but he holds her steady. She rests a hand on his cheek and grounds herself by using the other to grip the back of his neck. She’s utterly swallowed up by him, his arms and his mouth and just him surrounding her in their own little cocoon. He separates their mouths to kiss across her jaw and down her neck, hands flattening on her back. He places a line of long kisses down to the crook of her neck. She lets out a sigh, letting her head fall to the side to give him more room. He sinks his teeth into the same spot lightly, and she shudders.

"Derek," she whispers. She can feel his smile against his skin as he kisses the same place again.

They slow to a stop, tucked against each other. He rests his face against her neck and mumbles something against her skin. "Hmm honey?" she says, hand rubbing a circle on the nape of his neck.

"I got us that Talenti ice cream you like," he says, only moving enough to be heard. “Chocolate peanut butter cup, and the color changing spoons are still in the break room.”

"Oh Der, that's so sweet, you didn't have to do all of that." Her heart skips a beat.

He shrugs, kissing the side of her neck. "I wanted to."

She is half tempted to haul him in for another kiss, but as if on cue, her stomach grumbles. He picks his head up and smiles at her. "Come eat now," he says before giving her another quick peck.

She lets him pull her to the table, but before they sit, she pulls him in again. He chuckles into the kiss. "Eat, you menace." He mumbles against her lips. Pulling back, he plants a kiss on the apple of her cheek as he guides her into her seat.

She bites a retort about how she was trying to but he sees it on her face anyway.

"Later, baby girl. Dinner first."

“Then dessert?” She tilts her head and gives him a flirty smile.

He runs his thumb along her bottom lip. “All the dessert you want, Penelope.”

Much the same as before, they eat in comfortable silence. Except this time he rests a hand on her thigh, and traces a slow lazy circle with his thumb. The conversation picks back up and turns to unrelated things. Derek muses about possible retaliations from Spencer once he notices his new desk plants as he casually offers her a bite from his plate. She takes it, humming.

Something Penelope did not realize had lost its footing resettles in her chest. Nothing is different, not in any way that would scare her or be a loss. They are just the same as they've always been, but also more. (Though she'd be hard pressed to think of a time when this wasn't the way they were. Maybe things are just being unveiled, not changed.)

When they finish eating, he goes to get the ice cream and two of the fun spoons from the break room. They split the pint and laugh far too loudly for how late it is. The computer beeps for a final time, software finally fully uploaded and settled. She still has to run tests and double check that everything is working, but that can wait. Derek offers her a bite of ice cream, and if he kisses her again to remove the ice cream from her bottom lip, she can't say she minds.

#morcia #derek morgan #penelope garcia #cm #cj.txt #cjs fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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pluto-art · 4 years ago

Text

Syncytium - Chapter 4

Title: Syncytium - Chapter 4 - Fateful Trips Words: 8,571 Rating: T

Fan Fiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13712482/4/Syncytium

Per the norm, I recommend the fan fiction version, which includes all accentuated bits. This has probably been my favorite chapter to write so far. :)

September 17th, 1993 - 6:03 AM

A spillage of numbers, symbols, and complicated algorithms flowed across the outdated monitor, a furious tap, tap, tapping of a keyboard a musical accompaniment to the madness. In the background, something beeped steadily, one high-pitched ding after another knocking at the air every two seconds. Several bottles and beakers hung suspended by their necks in a wooden tray off to the side, their liquid contents bubbling and boiling incessantly, all of them different colors of the rainbow - cinnamon, emerald, lilac, and azure. Rows and rows of books, large dusty tomes neighbors with fresh dainty novels, stood side-by-side within the innards of several tall, mahogany shelves set against the back wall. Still more shelves, steel-coated instead, lay strewn throughout the room, these ones encasing not just books, but various scientific tools, as well as cups of pens and pencils, tape, notebooks, and an assortment of other things. The entire room was dark and foreboding, the occasional dim ceiling light and desk lamp adding limited warmth to the place, with the two computer monitors shedding their own ghostly glow about the room. Piles of notes and here and there a forgotten and empty (and sometimes half-full...) coffee mug lay about on the computer desks, and there were probably more calculators - all different shapes, sizes, and models - tossed about than was necessary. It was an organized mess.

But it was his organized mess.

Globetrotter scribbled something down on a yellow notepad to his left, his right paw firmly planted on a computer mouse to his right. Light from the monitor reflected off his half-moon glasses, which tottered dangerously close to the edge of his nose. He swiftly pushed them back up onto the bridge.

Tap, tap, tap...

More typing. More note-taking.

"Yes...," he whispered to himself, the beginnings of a grin climbing up onto his face. "Yes!"

He slammed a finger down onto the 'Enter' key, and a train of calculations ran across an invisible track on the monitor, finally ending in a result that was much to his satisfaction. Globetrotter smirked deviously.

"Heh heh heh. Ohhhh, my friend. Are you in for a treat."

Just then, his eyes went wide, ears drooping suddenly.

"Uggggh," he groaned, setting down his glasses as he ran towards a heavy steel door, punched in a code on a panel set in the wall, and flew out of the room as the door slid open. When it closed behind him, it melded into the wall so well that no one would be able to tell one way or another that a secret laboratory lay hidden on the other side.

Down a long, dimly-lit hallway he ran, his shoes clapping loudly against the smooth concrete floor, 'til he reached an elevator. He slammed his paw on the only button set in the wall - UP.

"Come on, come on...," he muttered, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. He allowed himself this - this undignified form of behavior, rocking back and forth like an absolute child. It was something he'd never succumb to in public, but here there was no one to see, not even any cameras. He'd shut them off long ago, knowing full well that no one would ever bother to monitor the basement. No one but him ever graced this area anymore.

After a full half a minute, the elevator finally descended.

Ding.

Globetrotter bolted into it as the doors opened, punching the 'Floor 1' button with unbridled voracity as he clutched at a spot near his crotch, face scrunched in discomfort. His head hung, an extended paw resting against the elevator wall as it ascended. He groaned. This was most undignified.

No sooner had the doors laid entrance to the first floor than Globetrotter shot out of the elevator like a bullet, practically skidding into the men's bathroom that, thankfully, was literally right across from the elevator. It was a shoddy design, but it worked well for him.

He practically knocked the door off its hinges as he barged inside, taking an extra two seconds to select the furthest stall from the entrance as he ran in, slammed the door shut, shakily undid his belt, and slammed his butt resolutely down on the toilet... and released.

He said a silent prayer of thanks that no one was in the bathroom to hear the sounds reverberating off the walls. It was embarrassing enough to deal with bowel issues, but for explosive diarrhea to come along with it every now and again was the icing on the expired cake. Most in the university knew about his issues. How could he avoid it? The students expected him to take a sudden pause during his sessions every once in a while. If anything, they welcomed it; less Globetrotter meant more time to goof around and breath without fear of being told off or sent to detention. And he'd learned to simply... deal with it. Rarely did the whispers come, and there was always at least one veteran student in his class to inform the newer sets about his strange, frequent disappearances. But it still bothered him a little; made him feel weak. Bested by his own bowels. Ridiculous.

Globetrotter breathed a sigh of relief as he let the last of it out, quickly regretting his next deep intake of air as he slapped a hand across his nose and mouth in disgust. Ugh. That was a smell that would linger.

Finishing up, he flushed the toilet (it actually went down this time, thank God...), washed his paws, and exited the bathroom, grateful that he didn't meet anyone on the floor on his way back to the elevator. Not that he would. Early morning wasn't exactly a time for many staff and students to be active. Nevertheless, he checked his watch as he shuffled down the hallway. 6:17 AM. Class would be starting in just a little over an hour. Perhaps he should abandon his private endeavors until a later time? He fixed to head to the second floor until he remembered he'd left his glasses in the lab. Groaning, he stepped into the elevator, pressed 'B', and headed back down to the laboratory.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

1:54 PM

The day passed without much deviation or interruption in anyone's schedule, save for a light altercation in which someone accidentally set fire to the kitchen microwave... somehow. Olivia was still collecting signatures on her excursions down the hallways and into the cafeteria during lunch time. She even took to staking a spot outside some of the classrooms when she knew a session was about to end, clipboard in hand and pen out, ready to attack any unsuspecting student or teacher. It annoyed some, but most took it as an opportunity to amuse the little mouse. Even the stiffest of teachers found it hard to dislike Olivia, save for Globetrotter. Even Basil was starting to warm up to her, especially after she complimented him on his magnificent violin playing, although he still wouldn't sign her petition.

"How many signatures do you have, Olivia?" Mrs. Brisby asked that afternoon, tossing the girl mouse a light smile as she stepped into her classroom, lunch bag in hand and carrying bag slung over her shoulder. Brisby always brought her own food.

"Fifty-four!" piped the girl, adjusting her tam-o-shanter as it fell down over her eyes. "And Mr. Pinky said that if I get to two hundred, we can show it to the principal and get a baseball stadium!"

"Hm. Is that so?" Brisby asked, still smiling as she set her bags down on the cherrywood table and unloaded several books onto it.

"Mmhm! Well... Maybe. He has to approve it first. That's what Mr. Pinky said."

"Well. I don't think that will be too hard. All you have to do is smile at him," Mrs. Brisby said, pinching Olivia's cheek. Olivia giggled. "Here: Something for Mr. Pinky." And she handed her a bright, reddish-green apple. "Just make sure to tell him Brisby sent it. I'm experimenting with a different species in my garden and would like some opinions. Oh, and here's one for you, too."

"Thank you!" Olivia said, pocketing both apples, one on each side of her coat. "Bye!"

"Bye bye now!" Mrs. Brisby said cheerily, waving at her.

Olivia skipped with delight down the hallway, for once not calling out for signatures. It was almost 2:00 PM and she had a very important appointment to catch. As she cantered down the hall, waving to Dr. Dawson as he passed by, not waving to Mr. Globetrotter as he passed by, she hummed a little tune, pondering what wonders might await her in Mr. Pinky's class this time.

I wonder if he'll talk about the planets? Or if we'll go on a mystery adventure! Maybe we'll build a roller coaster in the classroom... or fly to the moon! Oh, I do hope he has a cooking show this time. That would be lovely.

Her head was so full of thoughts that it completely clouded her vision - she didn't even see Mr. Pinky coming right towards her...

"Oof!" they both exhaled, shaking their heads and chuckling as they recognized whom they'd bumped into.

"Oh! Olivia!"

"Hello, Mr. Pinky!"

"Say, um, do you know how to get to my room?" Pinky asked, picking up a little case that he'd dropped. It looked like an old-fashioned medical bag. "I came into the school from a different side this time and got a little turned around! Heh heh."

"You mean you... don't know where your own classroom is?" Olivia asked.

"Well, it's a big school! Even teachers get lost sometimes!" At this, he bent down to Olivia's level, cupping a paw against his mouth as he continued in a whisper. "But don't tell them that. I think they'd be offended!"

Olivia giggled.

"Come on. I'll show you to your room, oh lost Mr. Pinky. Oh. And this is for you."

She handed him one of the apples Mrs. Brisby had handed her, taking a bite out of the other for herself.

"Why, thank you!" Pinky said, soaking his teeth into it happily.

And with that, they headed off, Olivia leading the way and occasionally throwing out a factoid here or there.

"I know every hallway in the school!" she said happily. "That way goes down to Bernard and Bianca's class." They climbed down a flight of stairs to land on the second floor, passing more hallways as they continued on. "And that one hallway goes all the way down to the nurse's office. That's where Mrs. Judson and I are! Oh, and that's the hallway that goes to the principal's office. But don't go down there. He's mean..."

Pinky took note of all of this in his head; or, at least, he tried to. Facts tended to flit in and out of his inner cavity a lot more often than he liked to admit, unless it was something he considered to be very important. He tried his best to tie down all of what Olivia was telling him to a particularly heavy, imaginary rock. Remembering who was who in the school was, indeed, rather integral information. What if he ever wanted to give Mr. Bernard and Mrs. Bianca a gift, but forgot their names or where they set up shop? What if Olivia needed someone to go with her to talk to the principal about looking over their petition? Even more important, what if a student in his class got hurt and he needed to alert the nurse? Very important, indeed.

Please, don't forget this time, okay? Pinky thought to himself privately. Please... He couldn't afford to. Not again...

They ran into Basil as they turned a corner. The faintest hint of a smile flashed across his face as he saw Olivia.

"Good morning, Mr. Basil!" Olivia piped up, stopping to greet him.

"Hello, Ms. Flangerhanger," he replied, riffling through a sheet of very important looking papers.

Olivia chuckled and shook her head. He could never get her name right.

"It's Flaversham, Mr. Basil."

"Mmhm," he mumbled, not looking at her. "I take it you're on your way to the nurse's office?"

"Actually, I'm helping Mr. Pinky find his class."

Olivia motioned for Basil to bend down to her level, which he obliged to, albeit reluctantly.

"He tends to get lost," she whispered into his ear.

"Is that so?" Basil queried, standing up straight again to take a closer look at this Mr... "Pinky, was it? You're... new here, are you not?" he asked, licking a thumb before riffling through his papers again.

"That's me!" Pinky acknowledged cheerily. "And Olivia's being such a help."

"Is she still going on about that ghastly petition?" Basil asked, although not entirely unkindly; it was almost playful.

"Yes! Will you sign it?" Olivia asked, not at all perturbed by Basil's mock reply, as she held the petition high up the air towards Basil's face, which, due to her height, wasn't very high at all. Even on her tippie toes she barely reached his chest.

Basil looked over at her and actually smirked.

"No," he said, giving a rather toothy, sarcastic grin before wandering off. "Good day to you both."

"Hm. He's a little stuck up, isn't he?" Pinky asked, staring after Basil curiously as he disappeared around the corner.

"Oh, don't mind Mr. Basil. He's quite nice when you get to know him. Come on! Let's go find your class room. We're late!"

And with that, Olivia took hold of Pinky's hand and led him onward down the hallway.

They passed Globetrotter as they reached the bathrooms. Pinky wrinkled his nose a little as the door swung shut behind the disgruntled teacher. Great swollen socks. It smelled as if something had died in there. Nevertheless, Pinky smiled and waved as he stomped by.

"Afternoon, Brain!"

Globetrotter shot him a nasty look, adjusting his pants and wincing as he did so. Pinky cocked an eyebrow in concern.

"Let's go," Olivia said in a hushed tone, pulling Pinky forward and past the restrooms.

Not ten seconds later, they reached his classroom. They were late. Not that it mattered. In truth, no one had yet signed up for Pinky's class, even though it had been a little over a week since he'd set up shop. Although many in the school talked about looking into the Trozology course, none had actually committed. Besides a majority of the pupils having very busy schedules that didn't allow for much free time, the main excuse, besides the nature of the class being rather oblivious, was concern that it would disappoint. It wouldn't be the first time a new teacher had come to town, toting with them the promise of a particularly interesting course, only for it to fall flat on its face and disappear or fade into obscurity a year later. "Someone," the students said, "has to take the plunge - take one for the team - and try Mr. Pinkus's class out to see if it's legit." Everyone was pushed to do so; henceforth, no one did. Only Olivia came to call now and again, and whenever she happened upon him he was either watching television, acting out some wild and wacky skit (which, unfortunately, she always caught the tail end of), or, on one rare occasion, sitting at his desk reading and staring at his family portrait longingly. Olivia just assumed that she always missed his busy class times. How could someone so fun not have any students?

"Hmm. Are all your students late, Mr. Pinky?" Olivia asked, looking up at him curiously as he opened the door to... an empty classroom.

"Hm? Oh no! No, not at all. I just... don't have any students yet! Ha-ha. You're the first, actually," Pinky said, as he set his medical bag down on the desk and pulled out several items: a can of tuna, a HUGE block of cheese wrapped in non-stick parchment paper, a notepad, a couple of pens, and... a Gilligan's Island tape. "Got tired of the old ones," he winked at Olivia, answering her silent question as he set the tape down amongst his snacks and office supplies.

"Are you going to watch it?" Olivia asked, curious eyes barely able to see over the top of Pinky's desk, her little paws stretching to grasp at its edges.

"We caaaaaaaaan," Pinky teased. "But only if you'll share this cheese with me!"

Olivia gasped.

"Really?!"

Five minutes later saw them both sitting on hard plastic chairs in front of the wheel-in tv, munching on cheese and occasionally busting out in a fit of laughter at some silly antic that one of the cast members pulled. Olivia had already decided that this was her all time favorite show, even though she'd barely seen one episode.

"Mr. Pinky? Why don't you have any students?" she asked rather randomly during a pause in the show.

"I suppose it's because no one's signed up yet!" Pinky said, all optimism.

"Ohhhh. When will they sign up, do you think?"

"I don't know, actually. But they'll come!"

Olivia smiled. He seemed so certain that she couldn't help but believe him. She took another bite out of her American Cheddar.

"I'm gonna tell all my friends about your class," she mumbled thickly through a huge mouthful of cheese. "Then everybody will come, and they'll all sign up!"

"Awwww. Thank you, Olivia!" Pinky smiled, giving her a snug side hug. "I'd like that very much!"

"Hee hee. You've got crumbs all over your cheek, Mr. Pinky," Olivia chuckled, reaching up to brush the wayward crumbs off the sides of his mouth. He smiled at her. She smiled back. Without saying anything more, she hugged him back, both of them munching on cheese as they giggled and guffawed at the rest of the show.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

September 21st, 1993 - 5:32 PM

Olivia was true to her word. Anyone who was anyone was invited to enroll in Pinky's class. In Olivia's eyes, that included her best friends, her parents, a few of her favorite teachers and other staff at the school, and Mrs. Judson. All invitations were turned down; all but three.

As it happened, Mrs. Brisby was close neighbors with Olivia, her father, and Mrs. Judson. This meant that Olivia had friends her age to play with: Timothy and Cynthia, to be exact, two of Brisby's four children. Cynthia was a little younger than her brother or Olivia, by about three years, but wherever Timothy went she had to follow, and so Olivia got two attendees for the price of one. The third was Evinrude, a mute dragonfly and friend of Bernard and Bianca. He was something of a loner, but took to scouting about the city and popping in on activities that interested him. Like Olivia, he sometimes reported news, sending letters from one neighbor to another in their little district and occasionally pausing to watch the kids at play. He pretended not to care, but Olivia secretly liked to think that he cared very much and kept an eye on them on purpose, as a sort of guardian. So when he happened to flit by as Olivia passed out verbal invitations to Timothy and Cynthia, she invited him, too.

No can do, Evinrude might have said, shaking his head. He flattened one little outstretched hand, palm down, and made a waving motion with the other in front of it.

"Busy?" Olivia asked, hands on her hips. "But you're always busy!"

"You should come, Evinrude," Timothy agreed in his delicate voice, little Cynthia peeking out shyly from behind him. "Might be fun."

The little dragonfly rolled his eyes at them.

"We're all going to his class tomorrow. I'm sure he'd love it if you came!" Olivia said, handing Evinrude a small card, which he accepted.

He cocked an eyebrow at the card, then looked back at Olivia, then at the card again. She'd actually taken the time out of her day to hand-make little business-card-sized invitations for everyone. Impressive. The card he was handed read thus:

New Class! with teacher Pinky!

ACME Arts and Scienses Berbank, Californeea 90095

2:00 Wendsday, September 22

Evinrude cocked an eyebrow at Olivia again. She was staring at him expectantly.

"And you'd better not be late, hmm?" she teased, trying to sound at least a little bit serious.

Evinrude shook his head, looking off into the distance.

"He's going to have snaaaaaaaacks," sung Olivia, batting her eyes at him pleadingly.

At this, Evinrude looked back at her in interest. If there was one thing they found equal footing on, besides being delivery hands of course, it was a fondness for food. He bopped his head lightly here and there, indicating that maybe, just maybe, he'd show up.

"Excellent! I'll see you tomorrow!" Olivia beamed, leaving Evinrude to shake his head one last time before flying off, card still in hand.

"Ohhhh, I don't think he'll there...," doubted Cynthia in her tiny little voice, finally emerging from behind her brother's back to stare at Evinrude as he flew off into the sunset.

"He will. You'll see," Olivia said, confident as anything as she sat down in the street to help Timothy assemble a small bug-catching kit.

"He'll eat all the food," Timothy pointed out, snapping two parts of the kit together.

Olivia drew her attention away from the bug kit to whip out a bright red pencil and piece of paper from her pocket, which she slapped down on the ground and began scribbling away on furiously.

"I know. That's okay. I just want him to spread the word."

"The word?"

"Mmhm. When he sees how fun Mr. Pinky's class is, he'll report it to everyone in town!" she said, finishing up her drawing and whipping it up in front of her face in a flourish to show it to Timothy. Embedded in the paper lay a very crude child's drawing of Pinky, stick-figure-like, his paws outstretched as he shouted 'Yay!' amidst scores of little star-like fireworks. "And then he'll always have a full classroom!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\

September 22nd, 1993 - 2:10 PM

Two o'clock came swift and sharp at Acme Arts and Sciences, but not swiftly enough for the kids. Olivia, Timothy, and Cynthia all waited against Pinky's classroom door, looking a little anxious. Olivia had managed to get a pass for her friends to enter the school for a couple of hours, thanks to Mrs. Judson, but it still felt a little awkward. Cynthia, being only four years old in mouse years, got bored easily, and Timothy was running out of ways to keep her occupied. They hadn't brought any puzzles or coloring books or board games, Olivia insisting that they wouldn't need them; Pinky's classes provided enough entertainment on their own. But it was 2:10 and he still hadn't shown up yet. Had she gotten the day wrong...?

Timothy picked carefully at a loose thread on his jeans. He'd need to sow that later.

"He's taking a while, isn't he?" he asked, looking tired.

"He probably got lost in the school again...," Olivia offered, ears drooping under her fat tam-o-shanter.

Timothy had managed to occupy Cynthia with a game of Jacks he'd brought, but he knew that it would only entertain her for so long. Already, she was starting to get bored of the bouncing ball, which kept rolling off to a far part of the hallway where either she or one of the others had to go up and get it.

A minute passed.

"Maybe we came on the wrong day," Timothy offered, trying to sound sympathetic despite his fatigue.

Olivia said nothing.

Five more minutes tip-toed by, one slow step at a time. Olivia pulled her legs up closer to her chest despite the heat. Were the hallways always this hot..? Maybe someone left the air on too long...

Timothy had shuffled a little, and was looking suspiciously as if he was about to get up and leave, when suddenly, from around the corner, Mr. Ronald Pinkus came flying, rolls of posters tucked up under his arms and sweat flying from his brow. It was unfortunate that the Jack ball rolled out of Cynthia's grasp right at that moment. It was even more unfortunate that it was Pinky's foot that found it.

"Sorry, kids, I- ARGGHHHHHH!"

Down he went... ZIP! ... crashing to the floor in a heap, posters flying everywhere.

"Are you all right, Mr. Pinky?!" Olivia asked, flying up onto her feet and rushing to Pinky's side. Timothy and Cynthia also stood, the older brother taking the initiative as he stepped up to peer at Mr. Pinky, a little concerned.

Pinky groaned, eyes rolling. After a few seconds, he propped himself up tenderly, shaking his head to rid himself of the little brie cheeses now dancing around him. Olivia held his head gently as Pinky rubbed at his neck.

"That looked nasty," Timothy said. "You need an ice pack?"

"You keep an ice pack in your backpack?" Olivia asked.

"No. But my Mum probably would make me if I could..."

"I'm all right! Ha-ha. Just broke a bone is all," Pinky grimaced, trying to look cheerful.

"You broke a bone?!" Olivia exclaimed.

"Ohhhhhh...," seconded Cynthia, hiding behind her brother again.

Pinky pulled out from under him something wrapped in a white napkin. Opening it up, he dangled from his fingers a broken chicken wing.

"Ohhhhh... you killed the chicken!" gasped Cynthia, covering her eyes.

"My lunch. Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Chicken Wing. I'll make it up to you, I promise!" Pinky lamented.

"Sorry about your lunch, Mr. Pinky," Olivia said remorsefully, head hanging.

"It's all right, Olivia. No harm done," Pinky assured her, lifting up her chin and giving her an encouraging smile. She couldn't help but smile back as Pinky sat up proper and gathered up his things, the kids helping him. "Now, who are these lovely people?"

"This is Timothy, and that's Cynthia. She's his little sister," Olivia pointed out helpfully, picking some of the dropped posters up off the floor.

"Nice to meet you!" Pinky said cheerily, shaking Timothy's hand and offering a paw to Cynthia, who nervously declined.

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Timothy replied, perhaps a bit too opulently. "Olivia says you're quite the showman."

"Well, she would know," Pinky chuckled, taking the remaining posters from Olivia with a nod of thanks. "And there's more where that came from!"

He opened the door to his classroom, flicking the light on as he entered. A bulb popped out as Olivia stepped in after him. Pinky looked up at it curiously.

"Hm. Will have to get that fixed then," he said, setting his things down on the table.

Timothy slowly tip-toed inside, taking in the very plain sights and the very unusual smells (Gouda, some sort of leathery cologne, and was that... radish?), with Cynthia following behind him at a cautious pace. She didn't much care for the radish smell and wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant scent. Timothy, however, drank it all in. He rather thought it was an interesting blend of eclectic aromas and savored every one, eyes closed as he deeply inhaled, the whisper of a smile on his lips.

"What are we doing today, Mr. Pinky?" Olivia asked, already by his side as she eagerly looked up into his face.

"Well, Miss Olivia, we are going to go on an adventure!" he said, unraveling one of the big, thick posters with a flourish.

Olivia gasped excitedly, and Timothy's ears flicked as he looked over at Pinky, intrigued.

"What kind of an adventure?" asked Timothy.

"You'll seeeeeee!" Pinky winked. "Help me put these posters up, everyone!"

And so they each grabbed a poster, save for Cynthia. She still wasn't quite ready to make friends yet. Everyone picked a random portion of wall upon which to paste their sizeable poster, but it became apparent, after a few failed attempts to open up what kept wanting to roll back closed, that something was missing.

"Mr. Pinky?" Olivia mumbled, struggling a little as a large roll of poster traveled down the wall she was attempting to lay it onto and bumped into her face, ruffling her whiskers. She sneezed. Even the posters had a smell: tomato, with a hint of garlic. "Aren't we supposed to have something to keep the posters up on the wall?"

"I concur," groaned Timothy, having just as bad of a time as Cynthia. He eventually gave up, letting the poster fall... right onto his little sister. She squeaked. "Oh. Sorry, Cynthia," he apologized, plucking it off of her as she shook her head of the smell, although this one she rather liked.

"Ohhhhhhhh. That's what I was forgetting!" Pinky exclaimed, chuckling to himself. "Just a moment!"

And he ran back to his medical bag, dug around in it, and pulled out a small clear case filled with push-pins. He set it down on a nearby chair, the better for smaller mousies to reach.

"Here ya' go!" he offered, taking a few in his paw and returning to his poster.

The kids ran over to take a look. There were many push-pins, all different colors of the rainbow: blue, purple, yellow, green, pink, white, and more. Olivia thought they were quite pretty to look at. Even Cynthia couldn't help but step forward to take a closer look at the dazzling arrangement.

"Ooooo. Pretty!" she remarked, stretching out a paw to grab a handful.

"Hold up, Cynthia," Timothy said, throwing out an arm. "Those are sharp on the end. You don't want to get hurt."

Cynthia's ears drooped at this.

"Here. I'll pick four out for you. Hold out your paw. Come on."

Cynthia did as she was told. Timothy picked out and set gently in her hand four differently colored push-pins - violet, turquoise, sunshine-y yellow, and ivory. The youngest mouse's eyes went wide.

"Be careful with them, okay?"

"Okay," Cynthia mumbled, only partially listening. They were all so pretty. She wanted the whole case.

Push-pins in hand, the quartet found it much easier to hang up the posters. Not all stood at the same height, as the kids had to use chairs to get them at least high enough that the poster bottoms wouldn't lay out on the floor, but Pinky didn't seem to mind. He was just happy to have company, as were the kids. They talked about their posters as they put them up, and after fifteen minutes of pushing and pinning, they could admire their work.

Sixteen posters wrapped around the classroom, painting the walls with numerous vacation spots, national landmarks, and beautiful landscapes. Some featured tall waterfalls splashing down into azure blue pools below; others seemed lost in a lush rainforest decorated with vibrantly-patterned butterflies; but most of them highlighted the beach. There were posters of alluring islands, sandy California backdrops, and palm trees set against brilliant sunsets. It was enough to make anyone want to jump into one of those appealing vistas right then and there and float away - get lost in paradise.

"What now, Mr. Pinky?" Olivia asked, voice drowning in excitement and anticipation. Whatever came next, it had to be good.

"Nooooooow," prefaced Pinky, flashing his toothy grin, "We get out the boat!"

And from a far corner of the room, he pulled a large cardboard box; just big enough for all four of them to sit rather uncomfortably in. Pinky initiated, setting the box in front of the desk and jumping inside of it.

"Come on, everyone!" he encouraged, motioning them with a hand to join him.

"Woo! Yes!" Olivia exclaimed, hopping in and sitting down between Pinky's legs without a second thought. "Come on, guys!" she called to the others.

Timothy looked a little suspicious. He walked all the way around the box, inspecting it inside and out, before standing in front of it, arms folded, and tossing a very questioning glance indeed at the mice.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely!" Pinky confirmed. "Come on! You're gonna miss all the fun!"

"Yeah, come on, Timothy! It won't hurt," Olivia reassured him with a helpful smile.

"I'm not scared," Timothy admitted, squishing in to sit, a little cramped, in front of Olivia as he said it.

Only Cynthia remained. Timothy reached out both arms for her.

"Come on, silly," he invited, but she remained suspicious. Two little paws crawled up over the edge as she took a peek inside.

"Is it going to hurt?" she asked.

"Olivia just said it wouldn't, so come on," prodded Timothy again, and this time she slipped into his arms, taking a spot on his lap as she looked around, a bit nervous.

"All right, kids. You ready?" Pinky asked.

"Ready!" Olivia replied.

"Ready... I think." Timothy responded.

Cynthia said nothing.

"Alllll right. Start rowing!" Pinky commanded, and he began rowing the make-shift "boat" with imaginary oars, Olivia following suit, with Timothy hesitantly joining in a few seconds later. Cynthia simply sat there on her big brother's lap, giggling a little as she watched them all row.

"Okay. Now, clooooooose your eyes...," Pinky instructed. They all obeyed. Well, almost all... "Aaaaaand... OPEN THEM!"

They did as he was told... and GASPED.

No longer were they on the floor of an abandoned school classroom, sitting in a cardboard box surrounded by promises of tropical get-a-ways painting the walls. They were actually on the ocean, nestled inside a little white dinghy boat, and encompassed about by skies of deep blue, orange, and pink, with picturesque clouds completing the image. To their port and starboard sides, dolphins leapt gaily along with them, and in the distance, straight ahead of them, lay a magnificent island, decorated elaborately with all manner of palm trees, and promising a very grand adventure indeed.

Olivia clapped and cheered, bouncing up and down in her seat in pure ecstasy.

"I told you! I told you! He's a magician!" Olivia told Timothy with great exuberance, Pinky chuckling behind her as he continued rowing.

Timothy's mouth was agape in pure wonderment, his eyes as wide as saucers. How... was this possible? He said nothing as he stared all about him, head turning this way and that to take in the sights, sounds, and smells surrounding him, bombarding his senses, practically lifting him off his feet.

"Wow...," he finally breathed out, a smile crawling up his face. "This is so high..."

"Come again..?" Pinky asked, his ears dropping alarmingly as he slowed down his rowing to stare concernedly at the boy.

"Huh?"

"This is so... what?"

"Oh. High. Like... way up high? Like when you're up at the top of a tall tree and feel like you're flying? It's cool."

Pinky chuckled. He couldn't help it.

"You might want to use a different word when around adults there. Just sayin'."

Timothy cocked an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything against it. He simply shrugged.

Cynthia was the only one of the set who hadn't yet found the wonderment in the situation. As far as she could see, they were still in the same box on the same floor in the same classroom. They were all cuckoo.

"What are you guys talking about? I don't see anything!" she complained, turning this way and that on her brother's lap in the hopes that she might catch a glimpse of a seagull or a dolphin.

"That's because you didn't close your eyes, Cynthia," Timothy said matter-of-factly.

"Yes. You have to close your eyes!" concurred Olivia.

"Close your eyes, Cynthia, and only open them when I say!" Pinky said.

"Okay...," said Cynthia, doing as she was told.

"All right... Aaaaaaaaaand... OPEN THEM!"

Cynthia opened her eyes.

"Woooooooooaaaaaaaaaaah...!"

"Told you!" Olivia beamed, giggling.

"Are we on the ocean..?!" Cynthia gasped, jumping a little as a dolphin flew out of the water right next to them, diving back in with a splash and spraying them all with sea droplets. They shook their fur, laughing.

"We most certainly are! Do you like it?" Pinky asked, just a tinge of uncertainty peppering his tone.

Cynthia had to think about this for two whole seconds. Then she blurted out her answer.

"YES!"

Pinky smiled.

"Are we going all the way to that island?" Olivia asked, pointing to the floating figure seemingly miles ahead of them.

"You betcha! And we'll need music to do it."

Out of nowhere, he pulled out a small boombox, clicked "Play" on the top for the CD player, and out belted a familiar tune. Both Pinky and Olivia started singing it right away, with Timothy and Cynthia joining in to hum along with the tune.

Just sit right back, And you'll hear a tale, A tale of a fateful trip, That started from this tropic port, Aboard this tiny ship...

At the start of the music, the boat zoomed off of its own accord towards the island, powered by the wind, the sea, and the song.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

4:00 PM

The kids left classroom 210 with spirits high and hearts glowing. Olivia thanked Pinky over and over again, Timothy was still commenting on how their adventure felt like something right out of a movie, and Cynthia lamented that she couldn't keep the little hulu skirt she'd strung. One's imagination, it seemed, could only take things so far. Nothing they physically created in the classroom could be brought outside of it. Once they stepped off the island, all manner of sun, sea, and sand was gone, including anything they'd gathered or made on the island. The box was just a box; the floor just a floor; the posters just posters. It was as if none of it had ever happened. But the memories remained.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Pinky!" Olivia thanked him for the thousandth time. "I'll bring more next time!"

"No worries, Olivia! Shall I put you all down on my class list then?" Pinky asked, whipping out a clipboard, complete with paper and pen, and holding the pen at the ready.

"Yes, please! You're coming again, right?" she asked her friends.

Timothy thought for a moment. As exciting as it all had been, one had to be practical, after all; at least, Timothy did.

"Well, as long as our Mum says it's all right, then I suppose that would be fine," he conceded, smiling. "I'll go ask her. I think she's working today."

"Oh, please, can we? I wanna go back to the island!" Cynthia squeaked, bouncing up and down as she pulled at Timothy's shirt sleeve.

"We will, as long as Mum says it's okay."

"We'd better go. Will we see you tomorrow, Mr. Pinky?" Olivia asked hopefully.

"2:00 o'clock sharp," Pinky said, winking at her.

Off they went, leaving Pinky behind to stare after them fondly. He smiled and went back into his classroom, closing the door behind him with a soft snap.

"So what do you think?" Olivia asked as the three kids headed down the hallway.

"I like him!" Cynthia piped up immediately.

"I like him, too," Timothy said. "Too bad Evinrude didn't show up."

"Oh, that's all right. He'll come eventually. He'll want to eat all the snacks!"

All three of them laughed, gay as little summer flowers as they made their way to Mrs. Brisby's classroom.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

October 1st, 1993

Over a week had passed since Pinky, Olivia, Timothy, and Cynthia had traveled to their own little Gilligan's Island. Fall was in full swing, with red, orange, and yellow decorating the campus, pumpkin muffins and apple cider stalls set up in various spots around the school, and warm sweaters and boots taking the place of short-sleeved shirts and sandals. The usual hall chatter and gossip traveled throughout the university, with topics ranging from the latest Beverly Hills: 90210 episode... to Nirvana's album release from last month, or, if you were one of the computer nerds, raving over some new game called Myst.

Talk of Halloween was already in the air, with the occasional crow figure or carved Jack-o'-lantern popping up here or there in a classroom. Pinky was considering throwing a party in light of the occasion. Many of the teachers excitedly agreed. Some did not. Basil thought it was a foolish affair, and Mr. Ages could very well have done without. Globetrotter heartily concurred. Strangely, the principal, a normally very hard-lined individual, was all for it. Those who knew him well, however, would have said that costuming and a flair for the dramatic was undoubtedly his thing, and that he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to show off in a vampire wardrobe or kingly dress. While some were turned off by the possibility of his showing up, others were all the more intrigued, and conversation over the matter increased tenfold.

The only thing more interesting than Halloween parties or album covers were Pinky's classes. Olivia had managed to gather up a few more friends over the course of a week. The news had spread fast. Timothy had told Despereaux, who had told Ralph, who had then told Nibbles. Olivia spread the word to Abigail, whom had then blabbed to Teresa and Martin, Timothy and Cynthia's elder sister and brother. One by one, they all showed up, day-by-day. Even Evinrude popped in once or twice, although not because he wanted to. He just wanted to "check on the kids; make sure they were okay" according to him. Olivia rolled her eyes at this, not at all blind to his grabbing a hearty helping of snacks at the end of each session.

Gilligan's Island turned out to be a popular travel spot in Pinky's class. It was the most requested and undoubtedly the most talked about. The theme song alone ended up making the rounds throughout the school. It started with Olivia whistling or humming it down the halls, caught on when several teachers and students copied her, and now whenever she skipped about the university pupils and instructors would often whistle the tune back to her. Even Basil caught himself humming along now and again, although he'd quickly cease and desist, shaking his head, when he realized what he was doing.

The first actual university student to sign up for Trozology was Teresa. She'd been pulled into it by Timothy, and her brother Martin soon followed suit. She'd been hesitant at first; after all, signing up for a new class this late into the semester was unusual, and not even allowed most of the time, but her siblings' interest in it was intriguing. What was meant to be a one-time dip in the pool ended up becoming a daily swimming excursion. Trozology, whatever it was, came with no homework, no punishment for answering a question wrong, no heavy books to lift, and, best of all, no stress. It was the first class she'd ever attended where she felt like she could be herself, and was a welcome reprieve amidst the chaos that was piles upon piles of essays, tests, and expectations she felt were upon her to succeed. This, she thought, would be beneficial to others who were also struggling. She had to tell someone...

"Someone" ended up being a couple of friends in the school. Although they didn't sign up, the idea of being transported to other tangible worlds simply via imagination alone was intriguing, even if they didn't entirely believe her. It was certainly more interesting than most anything else in the school, and Teresa's response to the class was so infectious that they couldn't help but pass by Pinky's classroom door window every now and again to take a peek. All they ever saw, however, was the teacher and maybe half a dozen kids "rowing" in a box on the floor, or standing on top of the desk pretending to climb a mountain, or sometimes just sitting in chairs watching tv. It certainly didn't look very exciting.

"No no! You have to actually participate!" Teresa insisted. "You have to commit!"

Still, no one else signed up, but Teresa continued to attend, perfectly at home with Pinky and the kids. It was fortunate that the principal never came out of his office past 5:00 PM. It was common knowledge that he detested children. Mrs. Judson only allowed them all entrance due to the area and the hour - Pinky's room was located in a section of hallway that the principal rarely frequented, and since his classes always started at 2:00 PM and went no later than 4:00 PM, it got a pass.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

7:01 PM

Down the hall and around a corner, an hour after having dismissed his last class for the day, Globetrotter exited the room, shut the heavy, mahogany door and locked it. His was one of only four doors in the entire university that was equipped with such a mechanism; at least, regarding personnel rooms. The other three were the principal's office, the janitor's closet, and the nurse's office. He'd paid for the installation himself. It wasn't that anything had ever been stolen from his classroom. Indeed, if one pillaged it they'd surely find nothing worth stealing. Globetrotter was simply paranoid, and everyone knew it.

He was late. On some nights, he took to grading students' homework on the property instead of at home, partially to get it over with sooner, but mainly because he wanted to spend extra time in the lab. No one questioned his staying back late. No one would dare to. What he estimated would take half an hour took half an hour more than that. Martha's grammar simply needed policing, and he wouldn't stand for Trevor's snide remark about the Germ-Line Theory being conclusive. If he needed to linger for an entire hour for the sake of science then so be it.

Snap went the door, and Click went the lock as Globetrotter bowed from his office (the better to pick up his heavy suitcase) and made for the elevator.

Back around the corner and down the hall, Pinky closed shut his door, which he did not lock, and made for room three-nineteen. He knocked. There was no answer.

"Hmmmm," Pinky mused.

"Mr. Globetrotter...?" he called, knocking again. "I have something for youuuu!"

Still nothing. Perhaps he'd gone home?

Ding.

Pinky's ears perked. Of course. He must have taken the elevator.

Off he skipped to the elevator hall. No one there. But he could hear the whirring of the machine, and as he looked up at the lit numbers above, he saw that the little arrow was slowly moving down... down... down to the basement level. Goody! That wasn't very far down. He could take the stairwell.

And that's just what he did. Down... down... down to the basement. He hummed as he went, and his humming turned into whistling. He liked the echo it made in the stairwell. It was a bouncy little tune, rather monotonous in nature, but also rather catchy. He wasn't quite sure where it came from, or why it came, but he liked it all the same.

He peeked around the door corner as he made to exit the stairwell, and was about to wave at and call out to Globetrotter, when he paused, keeping uncharacteristically quiet as he watched Brain step off the elevator, shuffle up to the wall, and place his hand on the wall. A little spot on it glowed green, acknowledging his paw print, and the wall... opened up.

Pinky almost gasped out loud, but slapped a paw over his mouth just in time. Once Globetrotter had disappeared behind the wall, Pinky tip-toed up to it and stared at it for a long while, which, for him, was about ten seconds.

"Brain?" he pondered, curious.

What was it he was doing back there?

Pinky looked at the wall. There was no green panel that he could see, but there was a square-ish gray one. He tapped on it tentatively. Nothing happened.

"Hmmm."

He looked at it more closely. There was a little groove in the side. He picked at it.

The little door swung open.

Sure enough, there was the panel. It glowed a bright green color as soon as it was exposed. Pinky cocked his head, looked at his left paw, and touched it to the pad. As soon as he did so, it glowed red and beeped angrily at him twice. No good.

He tried again, and again. Nothing. He even tried putting his foot on it, then his tail, then his tongue, but no matter what he did, it wouldn't gain him access. Seemed like it was Pinky-proof; friendly only to Globetrotter. He sighed and pressed his ear against the wall. If he strained his auditory senses, he could just make out the sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard.

"Naaaaaaarf," he remarked to himself in a whisper. "Egad. What are you doing in there, Brain?"

He listened again. Now he could hear bottles clinking around; papers being shuffled. Now nothing at all. And now, swiftly, suddenly, the sound of footsteps slapping across the floor eagerly, drawing ever closer... and closer, right towards the wall...

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

Author's Notes:

- The potion colors represent aspects of Brain's personality. Cinnamon: Potent, with a bite. Emerald: Outlook on self as royalty/important. Green is also associated with greed and ambition. Lilac: Can symbolize confidence and love. He has a soft heart deep down. Azure: Associated with the sky. I'd like to think of it as he has high and lofty ambitions/goals, but, like the sky (or the ocean), which leads up into space, he's also a vast pool of intrigue and mystery. There's a lot about him that is hidden and undiscovered.

- I thought about making Brain left-handed, but went with ambidextrous instead.

- Brain dealing with bowel issues is a joke, although it will still have pertinence in the story. I just find the idea of a high-ranking professor who considers himself very dignified dealing with explosive diarrhea incredibly funny. XD

#fan fiction #pinky and the brain

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spiritedoperetta-moved · 5 years ago

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This is kind of just a ‘before the end of the year’ self-reflective post. Mostly pertaining to ‘personal things’ I’ve learned and gained while running this blog.

Past year has possibly been the biggest roller coaster of emotions, growth and turmoil I have ever had. Given I actually took the steps to be ‘better’ and get my act together. As both a person and interacting with people, even becoming some peoples friend. I’ve helped my anxiety and actually gotten outside of my comfort zone and grown from it. Started being more healthy and trying to go out and take a walk or exercise when I have nothing preoccupying me. I’ve learned that it isn’t always a bad thing to hold your ground and sometimes putting your foot down is what you need to do, albeit being stern may not be the best option. Sometimes it is needed if calm isn’t working. As well to put my own health before my hobbies and others well being. As you always come first. Worry about you and then worry about other things. If something is stressing you out, then rip it off from the roots. Communication is key. Can’t exactly be comfortable or happy if you don’t communicate what is effected your satisfaction in a situation. Or if someone has done something wrong and so on and so forth. As well as be patient with people, as they have things you don’t even know about going on. It’s not you, it’s their life and of course, can’t change that. But, be patient and you will inevitably get what you want.

But, moving forward.

I’d like to perhaps work on my immense fear of actually stating I like things. As where I grew up, my opinion never seemed to matter, or it’d just get demeaned and down trodden. So that’s royally fucked up my ability to be like “Oh yes! I love this!” And I’ve realized this along with many issues in the past year. So I often times feel discouraged to voice my opinion as sometimes I feel mine doesn’t matter.

As well, would like to work towards better social skills and how my apathy affects that. I tend to just say things. As my ‘apathy issue’ sort of just makes me blurt out whatever comes to mind. Which of course, is why I tend to say ‘Don’t take anything I say out of context or serious, unless under certain circumstances’. As I tend to make a joke or two sometimes that have me rubbing my face like ‘Why did I say that’. And I’d like to eventually stop that from happening. That or I just say whatever the fuck comes to mind, which may come off as rather bland or monotone over all.

Work on my ‘Jealousy’ a bit. Although I never act on it, it’s still there and does hit me from time to time. Its not a big factor, but I would like to get it to fuck off all things considered. As its been plaguing me for years. Yet I never do anything with it, as it would just create more problems. And it’s irrational at best. As well as I’d love to actually be able to talk using my mouth rather than a keyboard. I tend to have a hard time actually talking about certain subjects, unless it’s through text. Depending on whom it is I’m talking to and what it’s about. I’ve always sucked at vocally proclaiming things. So I’d actually like to work on bettering my person just as much as my feelings as a whole.

#[ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜᴄᴛᴏʀ ] ⚔ ᴏᴏᴄ #I've got some BIG ASS Recovery boys

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highland-gem-guardian · 6 years ago

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Lair Review: Limanya

Lair Review for @peacevine! Full review under the read more c: I hope you enjoy and are feeling in a better frame of stress-free mind <3

The Clan is such a simple name for such a variety of different characters, colours and stories, yet still it is a perfect name to hold them all together! The welcoming poem and introduction to your clangrounds and Orders is also very detailed and clear to me as a reader; excellent work. I also love the straightforward graphics that decorate your clan profile and the templates you use for your dragons. Neat and great on your eyes for reading 👍🏼

Now, I shall pick some dragons to review!

1 & 2. SOLTNAR & KHATORL

I absolutely adore it when Lightning and Fire aesthetics meet, so it is no surprise that I am so drawn to these two striking siblings. To have such perfect aesthetics from the same nest is incredible! Their accents are really what bring out their personalities and the way you’ve woven their apparel into their lore as well is an excellent touch. In particular, the sylvan wings on Soltnar give her wings such a lovely glow <3

3. EMMERYN

I hadn’t even read Emmeryn’s bio without thinking to myself “oooh my, they give off so much sunshine and innocence!” She is one of the few dragons I’ve seen that can pull off Iridescent and Smoke together, and the combination of Seafoam Shimmer and the Diver’s Emblem is reminding me of the gentle rivers that flow through the Sunbeam Ruins and she just radiates peace and love on a bright, cloudless day <3

4. HURRICANE

Now this is a gorgeous, regal looking beauty in his own right. However what drew me to love him so much is his story! The opening paragraph is just so EPIC i need to share it here for all to read themselves:

“The Arcanist’s domain is generally known to be a dangerous one to any unprepared dragon setting foot on its land.

That doesn’t account for the seas.

Many, many years ago, a young Coatl experienced this firsthand. Yes, his magenta eyes show that he should be prepared for whatever is there, but do the survivors of the Scarred Wasteland all wait to fall ill and die? Are the Windsinger’s children keen on crashing of a cliff?”

And even then his bio continues to be amazing. Like a hurricane he is unpredictable. He is calm, but goodness knows what’s going to come once that calm eye has passed. His life was washed away before he even knew who he even was. I adore how this is a major factor in crafting the dragon he is today, it makes for such an interesting canvas to paint his story on. Incredible work with words <3

5. ROBBY

y’all not expecting me to gush over this wee absolute amazing bot ahahaha I am an absolute sucker for robots, but when I see me a little one who just wants to make everyone happy and be a generally pleasant little guy I just wanna hold them and hug them and cry thEY ARE SO ADORABLE AND VALID- the bright Radioactive fireflies contrasting on their metallic frame is both adorable and lovely! They’ve got little friends!!!

6. ALASTAIR

YOHOHOHO oh my gosh if this capn’ wasn’t handsome enough his amazing apparel/gene combination is! I never knew how much i adored black and red with pale yellow decals until my eyes met his page. His story - opposite yet familiar to Hurricane - is as heartbreaking as you’d expect the loss of someone beloved to be, and this paragraph alone is absolute justice at showing exactly what he went through:

“Only moments ago, the sea was a lioness, tenderly carrying the Tethys in her mouth as if it were her cub. Now, the image became much clearer: the Tethys was not the sea's cub, she was the prey. And she had already been caught. So the sea tossed around her prize. Lightning strikes as rending claws, and the blood from the lioness's maw into pouring rain. Weeping rain, for the Tethys would soon lost.”

Alastair has so much to find out about himself and that is really what draws a reader into a character. I wanna see him grow and move on with the Dreadram. I can feel that is what he is really wanting inside. And it’s your play with words that really bring out a character as well as Alastair from beginning to end. Fantastic work overall <3

And I can’t be without my honorable mentions that I’ll list here quick:

Bai and Justice: Putting them together because they both share two things in common that makes them so lovable and unique: adorable permababs and an emotional roller-coaster of a story!

Icarus: The sheer mystery surrounding this young one is intriguing enough for me to love them! They also pulls off Crackle amazingly!

Fable: There’s a load of pale dragons who can rock the Shifting Kelpie Mane, but Fable just absolutely SMASHES it with that halo layering!

Caide: A beautiful lady, and showing off your even more beautiful work! Fabulous!

Glamour & Metal: Again putting them together, they are the dragons who introduced me to your blog when someone reblogged a post of them! So they’re quite special!

Starfall to Flameforger: Self explanatory, especially Mistral, Brightshine, Greenskeeper and Flameforger who don the most beautiful outfits. Impressive way of representing the flights!

Deemo: Won’t lie I thought this one had Lionfish from a distance before I looked closer at his accent! Keyboard man! I love him!

#lair reviews #lair review #flight rising #fr #peacevine #limanya 141180 #apologies for any mistakes with identity or pronouns! please let me know asap so i can fix <3

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paranoidinspanish · 5 years ago

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Happiness Begins by the Jonas Brothers: A REVIEW

Hi hello. Here it is. A review by a long time Jonas Brothers fan. A JoBroHo, if you will. AND DAMN PROUD OF IT. Let’s start this off with, I love clever and thoughtful lyrics. But I can overlook it if there’s a sick beat I can dance to. Let’s dive into this, butt first.

SUCKER: A wonderful way to kick off their 10-year hiatus and in my humble opinion, well worth the wait. A song I didn’t know I was missing until I heard it. The music video elevates the song like, 27 levels and adorable and fun to watch, especially on a dreary day. I’m sure this song would be impressive to witness live.

Favorite line: I’ve been dancin’ on top of cars/And stumblin’ out of bars/ I follow you through the dark/ Can’t get enough

COOL: This song is SUMMER. It is that ice cold drink, condensation dripping down the sides, that is absolutely and mind blowingly (yes that’s a word) refreshing. The nods to their past lives and current lives in the lyrics are witty and effortless and deserve the endless amounts of times people will listen and laugh.

Favorite line: Sitting there winning like it’s Game of Thrones/ And now that we’ve made it/ How complicated was last year

ONLY HUMAN: This song was a very close second to being my favorite song on the album. It’s chill and soft like a good smoothie. The back beat underneath the high vocals of Jick Nonas (tell me you get the reference) are a match-made in heaven. I want he sound of the keyboard between the choruses and the verse to be my ringtone for all of eternity. My only complaint is the length of this song. I need it to be infinity long, please and thanks.

Favorite line: Just dance in the living room/ Love with an attitude/ Drunk to an 80s groove, ay

I BELIEVE: HELLO MY FAVORITE SONG ON THE ALBUM. For some reason, it reminds me of Fly With Me, but like the older brother of your best friend who wears just enough cologne and you think you might have a crush on (OH NOES). When I first heard this song, I think I played it on repeat 5 times until I realized that I had to listen to the rest of the album. Shout out to Priyanka for inspiring (*waggles eyebrows*) Nick to write this song. You are truly a thing of beauty. Please protecc our boy.

Favorite line: Every night, every day; how about every lifetime?

USED TO BE: I found this song to be underwhelming. The lyrics are lacking a bit, compared to everything else I’ve loved of theirs. I did spend most of the song wondering why my baby Kevin doesn’t grace us with his angelic voice. Mad props to a pre-chorus featuring Joe and Nick but next time, please squeeze Kevin in there.

Favorite line: Lately I don’t even know ya/ Too many devils on your shoulder, shoulder

EVERY SINGLE TIME: When Nick Jonas utters “Mr. Misdemeanor” at the top of the song, I’m not gonna lie, I squeaked. Don’t ask me why but it just thrills me to no end. What a little squish. And a reference to an actual bridge during the bridge cracks me up every single time (ayyyyye) I listen to this song. I feel like a lot of songs on this album sound like this; a reggae inspired beat and low vocals. But this is where I feel like they really shine with the combination. The timing of the beats with the sounds of the vocals winding in and out of each other give off a sensual, beachy vibe. As one Cora Corman once said, “Give me a beat: steamy and sticky.”

Favorite line: Because there’s too much water/ Under this bridge to go down like this

DON’T THROW IT AWAY: The opening verse to this song sounds almost like a pseudo-Imagine Dragons song but the comparison ends there upon reaching the chorus. It’s a beautiful blend of late 80s/ early 90s bubblegum pop without feeling full of saccharin. The boys pleading with me to “not throw it away” is enough to pull even the most stone cold person’s heartstrings.

Favorite line: Pack up your love with all your things/ See if it helps, give it a week/ I bet no one else gets you like me

LOVE HER: The soft opening chords of the guitars calls back to the earlier days of the boys, although the lyrics bring it up to now. It’s a beautiful dedication to their relationships and how weirdly complicated things can be and how there’s still no other place you’d rather be. This song absolutely is so powerful in its simple quietness. I’m not crying. YOU’RE CRYING.

Favorite line: ‘Cause when you love her/ No matter the fight you know she’s always right/ And it’s alright

HAPPY WHEN I’M SAD: The chorus echoes in my mind and not always in a good way. Nick’s falsetto reminds me of when I’m feeling absolutely miserable and I’m trying very hard to hide it but failing. I still don’t know how to feel about this song but you bet your sweet bottom that I will be screeching it at the top of my lungs in a few months’ time.

Favorite line: I put on a smile, don’t need a face-lift/ Why can’t I when everybody fakes it?

TRUST: Another reggae inspired song. Memorable? Meh. Let’s go back to Every Single Time.

Favorite line: Take me back to when you were my only/ Well, we were thicker than thieves, like a pod, two peas

STRANGERS: This song rounds out my top three favorite songs on the album. It sounds like my old Jonas Brothers and I adore it. What can I even say? I get Joe’s high notes, Nick in a lower key and my boys singing “I just saw the lightning strike” and I now know what happiness sounds like.

Favorite line: I just saw the lightning strike/ Knew it right then when I looked in your eyes

HESITATE: Look, boys. It’s these kind of lyrics that makes us fall in love with you and/ or expect people in the real world to love us in this way. This song is a lovely understanding of loving someone who is struggling. Mentally, physically, any kind of struggle really and loving them because of those things. Excuse me, there’s a tree branch in my eye.

Favorite line: If I could only read your mind/ Then I could map out all the ways to make it right

ROLLERCOASTER: I’m not gonna lie, I literally always miss the beginning of this song. IT’S SO QUIET. On the other hand, it does sound like a roller coaster. Somewhat chill and manageable until you hit the pre-chorus and the chorus, then the boys take you on a ride of melodies. I do prefer the chorus to the rest of the song but it is a fun song to scream in the car on a sunny day.

Favorite line: It was fun when we were young and now we’re older/ Those days when we were broke in California/ We were up-and-down and barely made it over

COMEBACK: I take this song as a promise from the Jonas Brothers. If they were to ever leave again, they’ll come back to the fans. Gah bless the Jonas Brothers. A wonderful end to a heartwarming album.

Favorite line: You know the place that I go runnin’ to/ I get scared when you’re scared but what else can I do?

OVERALL RATING: 4 kitten beans out of 5

Is this my favorite album ever? Not really. It’s not even my favorite Jonas Brothers album. (Here’s looking at you, Lines, Vines and Trying Times). To me, it’s a tad underwhelming, considering everything I’ve been hearing from the boys in the press. They were excited to get back together and give music to the fans and they’ve done that. I think this is an excellent jumping off point after being apart professionally for so long. Also my expectations are ridiculously high due to my annoyingly snobby opinion of the boys and their quality of music. They are hecking quality. My bar is set by “Can I listen to this album backwards and forwards and not skip any songs?” For this one, no. There are amazing songs on this album and I absolutely cannot wait to see them perform them in October and again in December. I will be throwing this album at anyone who comes within spitting distance of me and asking them to change my mind about songs that didn’t impress me so much. What do you think of this album? Favorite song? Favorite lyrics? Favorite moment?

Are you there?

#Jonas brothers #iron mandie #Jonas brother happiness begins #happiness begins #no one asked for my opinion #but i'm doing it anyway

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builder051 · 7 years ago

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hey my love.I was fall in love to your characters, your stories and your blog.If you have the time, I would like one story with sick and really nauseous Todd. You know, this couple Todd and Mel is so sweet! One day, I would drawing for them i promise. Please?Good job!Have a good day!

Hey, anon! Thanks so much. I’m happy to deliver, and a drawing would be so awesome!

I’ve fucked up the timeline again. Since the last Mel and Todd story was set on Christmas Eve and the next event in their current arc is going to be their anniversary on January 8th, you’ll have to consider this one as happening sometime before the holidays.

Have I told you that migraine fics are my favorite thing ever? XD

_____

Todd’s never been happier with his office’s arrangement of bathrooms. The fact that they’re single-user and non-gendered is great. But today it’s the easily accessible light switch that takes the cake. Sitting on the floor without the oppressive hum and painful glare of fluorescent lights is heavenly. Or as close to heaven as Todd can get when his head is about to split open.

He leans forward press his face into his knees. It’s quieter in here than out in the shared office space where chatting coworkers and clacking keyboards are making a racket. Still not quiet enough, though. The faucet drips gently against the sink basin, and it may as well be a nail slowly pounding into Todd’s skull.

And whoever used this bathroom last must’ve sprayed perfume. The faint scent of orange blossom hangs in the air. It’s not unpleasant, but the mere fact of its presence turns his stomach.

Todd’s used to headaches. He stares at a computer screen eight hours a day as he taps out software code. But whatever’s going on now is different from the regular eyestrain and mild pain in the back of his neck. It’s not something he can shake off.

The idea of shaking anything is practically vomit-inducing. The coffee and ibuprofen Todd had swallowed an hour ago sit heavily on his stomach. He wonders for a second if all of this is the result of low blood sugar. Maybe he needs to eat. But that can’t be it. He had breakfast this morning. And it feels like his eggs and toast are still there, ready to spill all over the floor at the slightest provocation.

“Yo, man.” Someone knocks on the bathroom door.

Todd groans and wraps his arms around his head.

“You still up for taco Tuesday?” It’s Mark. Reminding him of their unofficial reservation at the café across the street.

Shit. Nausea flares at the mention, and Todd swallows hard. “No, thanks,” he mutters.

Mark apparently doesn’t hear, and he pounds on the door again. “You ok in there?”

He has to do something to stop the racket. Todd uses the wall to haul himself to his feet. The pressure in his head swells with the change in altitude, and he firmly clamps his lips together as he blindly reaches for the doorknob.

After sitting in the dark, the office seems unbearably bright. Todd squints and does his best to breathe normally.

“Whoa. Dude.” Mark takes a step back. “You’re sick.”

“Nuh,” Todd grunts. He pushes a few strands of hair off his forehead, then drags his wrist across to wipe the gathering clammy sweat. “I’m ok. ‘S just my head…”

“No, you’re not. You look like a vampire,” Mark says. “You need to go home.”

“Hm.” Todd tightens his grip on the door frame. If standing is this hard, he doesn’t want to think about driving. He’s pretty sure Mel has the car anyway. It’s a little worrisome that he can’t remember.

Mark’s still talking. “Seriously, I’ll talk to Amadeo for you if you just wanna scram.”

“I gotta call Mel…” Todd murmurs. He looks down at the toes of his shoes, willing his vision to stop blurring.

“Or I could drive you.”

“Thanks, but…” Todd’s not sure how much longer he can hold down the nausea. If he’s going to puke in somebody’s car it may as well be his own car. He reaches shakily for his back pocket. The glare from his phone’s screen is offensive. “I got it,” he says, trying to shake Mark so he can struggle in peace.

“You sure you’re not gonna pass out or something?”

Todd’s not sure, but he nods dizzily anyway. He finds Mel’s contact and presses his phone to his ear.

“Oh my god, is this a spontaneous lunch date?” Todd’s not prepared for the degree of excitement in Mel’s voice.

“Sorry, babe,” he says. “I just…”

“No, no, sorry,” Mel apologizes, changing tacts as she senses Todd’s tension. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I… Well. Can you come by and pick me up? I really don’t feel good.” Todd clenches his free hand into a fist and rests it between his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” He can hear her shuffling around, probably already shutting down her work station. “What’s wrong?”

“My head hurts. So bad. I just…everything’s…kind of sick.”

“Ok. Hang on. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

The call ends before Todd whispers, “Ok.”

True to her word, Mel arrives quickly. She helps Todd out to the car and settles him in the front passenger seat. She pulls a crumpled grocery bag out of her purse and shakes it open. “I don’t know if it makes it better or worse,” she says, handing it over. “But I figure we should play it safe.”

“Thanks,” Todd croaks. Heat flashes over his skin. Just the thought of the plastic bag in his lap ramps up his nausea a few notches. Mel shuts the door with a bang that makes Todd’s teeth hurt. He rests his temple against the window as she rounds to the driver’s side.

The lunch rush has the traffic stop-and-go, and every change in speed sends Todd’s stomach further into his throat. It’s so bright he can barely keep his eyes open, but closing them only adds to the feeling of being lost in space.

Todd’s drowning in bitter saliva. He wonders if he’ll be better off spitting it out, but the urge to gag rises in his chest, and there’s no choice but to swallow heavily.

“It’s ok,” Mel says, not taking her eyes off the road. “If you need to get sick, it’s ok.”

“Hm.” It’s still something Todd wants to avoid at all costs. Being trapped in a small space that’s too warm and moving too much is bad enough. Adding taste and smell to the sensory overload…he shudders at the thought.

But he can’t stop the horrible discomfort from mounting. His jaw feels like it’s sitting in his lap. Prickling trembles ignite in his fingertips and run up Todd’s arms and through his core until every muscle is vibrating. Even sitting against the car’s solid seat seems unstable.

“Almost there.” Mel turns onto their street and guns it up the hill. Todd swallows thickly again. It feels like he’s on the ricketiest of wooden roller coasters even though the car’s motion is smooth. Sourness leaches up the back of his tongue, and this time Todd can’t bite back the retch.

Lightning splits the top of his head as he jolts forward. Todd’s vision greys out, and he’s not sure if he’s hunched over the bag or not.

“Alright, alright.” Mel sounds miles away. The car bumps over the lip of the driveway and suddenly stops moving. The lack of motion feels foreign, and it’s just as dizzying as driving had been.

A door opens with the sound of a breaking seal, then another. Cool air hits Todd’s face, and Mel’s hands come down on his shoulder. “Here, you’re ok,” she says.

Todd heaves hard. Liquid hits plastic in his lap. He grips the edges of the bag with white knuckles. The images before his eyes shift to blurry neon, and disorientation makes him vomit again.

He inhales a fleck of something and breaks off coughing. An axe smashes his head each time his throat contracts. “Ok, breathe,” Mel whispers.

Todd fights for control. It doesn’t help much, so he lets himself go lax instead. His head rests against the seat, giving him some sense of time and place.

“That was rough.” Mel finds a few pieces of hair that’ve escaped Todd’s ponytail and tucks them behind his ear.

“Ugh. Yeah,” he breathes. A dry heave bursts from him.

“You’re gonna be ok.” Mel lays her fingers across the back of Todd’s neck. “Do you wanna go inside? Get some water?”

“Not really.”

“Ok…” Mel draws the word out. “You just want to sit in the car?”

With the doors open, the breeze feels nice on his sweaty face. “Yeah. F’r a minute.”

“Well.” Mel drops to her knees and trails her comforting touch down to Todd’s elbow. “Ok. For a minute.”

#ocs #my ocs #oc fic #original fiction #mel and todd #todd rhinehart #mel rhinehart #sickfic #migraine #emeto #emetophilia

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yeskei · 5 years ago

Text

Dreams

When I opened my eyes, I couldn’t see much.

It was dark, which was odd because it never happened after dark, but then again I never had the privilege of knowing first hand how everything was going to take place.

This time it looked like I was standing in the middle of nowhere. I had been in nowhere before but in the end, it was always somewhere – I turned around, took one more look but still couldn’t see anything that might spark familiarity – usually, it was small details like a tree, a sign or even a person,…making nowhere became somewhere.

At cue, there were rustling sounds under my feet, ruffles in my ears and an open field across the street. I said it was a street but it was more of a narrow, rocky trail. As intriguing as watching everything started to make sense, I had no interest in crossing – I must wait here. I didn’t know for how long but I must. I waited until the winds picked up until there was the moon – a crescent one – in the sky. I waited until I shifted from one leg to another for how many times I lost count. Until I wanted to take a seat…

On my right, a bench suddenly presented itself. Tilted my head, I tried to recall if it was there the last time I turned around but I could not remember. I took the seat anyway.

I sat there for a more while, or at least I believed time did pass around here – It was always hard to grasp the blurry concept of time whenever I found myself in this position, nor feel, nor anything. Especially when I was waiting.

A lamp post made everything a bit brighter, a bus sign sprouted from my right, on which read the next stop was three minutes from now – It seemed I was waiting for a bus – It had always been a moving vessel. Last time it was a boat, the other time before it was a train, some other times were either a plane or even a roller coaster. But never a bus. First time for everything I guessed.

The bus in question slowly cut through the night, approaching the station at snail pace. From afar I spied it was a piece of junk; crusty, rusty, crackling on its track. Gusts of wind picked up fast. They combed through the wild grass, making them caressed each other, hissing sounds filled the void and I shivered under the cold. I wondered if it was warmer on the bus, maybe I could roll up the windows, that unless there were windows on that thing.

Would I need a ticket for it?

The bus ate its break in front of my eyes and its door sprung opened.

Guessed not.

The steps creaked under my weights, its whole head shifted to one side as where I stood. The driver seat was empty – there was no driver, no valet – the door automatically closed behind me and the wheels started moving. I should have been hesitant, should have a chill running down my back but my legs carried my way down the back like nothing happened. Someone was waiting for me and that was all I cared,

I took a seat on the far end, not quite the last row but right above the streaky tires. The seat by the windows as I expected was already taken.

“I’m sorry for this has no glass.” The person said, implying the lack of shield on the windows.

It was a man with a familiar face, one I had seen too many times to the point I could have easily pick him out in a queue, literary in my sleep. Though his hair was a bit longer since the last time I saw him, cheek hollower, eyes haunting, sunken, deepen – hovering above the left eye there was faded line I yearned to touch, which stood out even more as his face sharpen and skin darker. He looked like he terribly in need of a goodnight sleep.

“Since when do you have beard?” I asked wryly.

He consciously touched his chin, where said beard lay and twitched.

“I’ve been busy. Don’t you like it? I think it’s cool.”

I shrugged. “It’s different.”

Some extra body hair made him almost handsomely rugged, far different than the lanky boy I had in mind.

I should have known better; every time I saw him he was a bit foreign than the last. One day he showed up taller than me, one day way tanner, sometime in the past his face was full of pimples and the next with wicked jawlines. Though he never quite grew out of the length of his limbs, even they had muscle now; strong and lean muscles.

“How are you lately?”

“Fine, I guessed,” I said, blinking a tad too fast. “I think I was finishing up the last few pages of my latest draft when you called.”

I missed him.

When I was nine, I had a crush on this boy in my class. I didn’t remember how he looked like nor how I managed to develop feelings for him – the fact I could have a genuine emotional connection with anyone aside from my family was an amazing feast by itself – there was a lot of things I didn’t remember about him but there was one thing I did; his name.

“Deondre.” It’d been years since that name escaped my lips. It left a strange taste on my tongue, yet rolling out easier than I thought. That name held no significance to me but I guessed it had always been there, in the back of my mind, locked away, waiting to be drawn back out.

I couldn’t recall much what eventually came down between us – we were nine, so I reckoned not much – just some small interactions here and there or fragments of flashbacks. He and the memories about him faded as years passed, until one day I had no recall of him down the road. It would have been fine just like that, as a ‘good old time’, as a reminder I was not always as “cold” and “unbothered” as I was dubbed.

Until one day, he stood in front of me again.

The ‘reunion’ wasn’t what I expect it to be – a cup of coffee or tea would be nice, catching up with each other would be fine but definitely not on a moving train to nowhere.

I first dreamt of him when I was fifteen.

I couldn’t recall what went down, it was seven years ago after all. But I knew who he was the moment I lay my eyes on him. Maybe there wasn’t anything with that dream. Maybe I did spend the entire time looking at his face and wondered how – he looked different – but it was brief and sweet. The boy i had a crush on was lanky and awkward at best, the young man sat next to me radiated confidence. The boy I had a crush on would trip over his own feet while running up to me with a bar of chocolate in his hand on Valentine's day. The young man sat next to me flashed me a Colgate smile brighter than my future at the time. The boy had crocked teeth, he had perfect rows.

He took my hand in his and we sat like that not saying a single word.

I woke up with damp cheeks but brushed it off as a normal dream. I also brushed off the next, one half a year later, when Deondre took us on a boat ride. Also the third time, six months after that on a cruise ship, and the fourth…fifth…sixth…

Every time I opened my eyes it was just another dream, ones that would become blurry and dismissive when I got back to reality.

Deondre averted his eyes, fondling on the brim of his shirt. He was wearing a white tee, one side of his collar fold inward. My hands itch to straighten it up but instead of reaching out to him, I touched mine.

“Sorry to disturb you. Though I feel like it was necessary.” His voice was low, too low. “You were drinking, weren’t you?”

Alcohol and me, we were like ex-lovers. We pushed and we pulled, we were toxic to each other but the temptation was so attractive.

I didn’t get surprised. Deondre knew everything.

What I wasn’t expecting was the fact he mentioned it straight out - for the past ten years we never talked about anything that was outside what happened at the moment as reality was a taboo subject for both of us, it didn’t have a place in the unconsciousness. I thought we never would. We met, we made small talks about the flowers we saw on the way, how the clouds here were always the same shapes, or maybe we should be more creative and decorated next time with cotton candy and chocolate fountains. Sometimes we went out for a few walks before he sent me on my way.

The sunken eyes of his had dark bags now, I hadn’t noticed.

He took my hand in his, brought it to his lips. His breaths were so shaky I could feel it on my skin.

“Are you okay?”

He whispered against my skin. His voice was so grave, it broke my heart a little.

“I’m doing fine.”

“You know you don’t have to lie to me right?” He said. “You can’t actually”

I didn’t look at him, didn’t dare to. Instead, I was focus on something that wasn’t here.

“When was the last time you cried?”

“A while,” I said. “I missed it. Crying. It sucks and it hurts but at least it makes everything a bit bearable.”

“Then cry.”

“It won’t come out.” Shaking my head, I said bitterly. “Besides, for what? There is no reason for me to cry.”

“Did you talk about it-”

“Don’t.” I cut him mid-sentence. “Anything but that question.”

The bus stopped abruptly causing me to lunge forward, hitting my head into the seat in front. When I turned around to check on him, he wasn’t sitting any more but stood quietly in the walkway.

“Promise me that you will be fine. And be careful – “

“Of what?”

Biting his lip, the look on his face was grim. He took my hands again, this time it felt a bit cold. Or was it always cold?

“Of yourself. After all, isn’t it why I am here?” He said. “Inside your head. Confronting you, reminding you?”

Before I could say anything, he took my face by two hands, holding my nape and leaned forwards. His lips met mine in a rush and desperate attempt. His lips moved softly as warmth spread through my body.

“I want to see you again.”

And every time, wanted or not. I melted into the kiss.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw my messy desk with scattering drafts and books. The computer was still on, my fingers lingering on the keyboard for when I felt asleep I must be typing, which I would have to look over the whole page once again to got the feel back and knew where the hell I was in the story. But before that I needed to get rid of the feeling of loss and disorientation from blurry memories and incoherent patches of what I was dreaming, clouding my head.

There was no bus, no empty field or sign of another person in my room. Everything was a dream, like it always had been. Nothing seemed real except for the fathom touch on my lips.

I reached out for the cup of water I always kept on the stand nearby and downed it in one go when a small bottle of white pills caught my eyes, ignoring the golden whiskey right next to it.

In the back of my mind – a very, very, very far back section – I had an idea why he said what he said by the look of the full pill bottle. I couldn’t recall the last time I took one of those as I was prescripted. Right now I bet if I trade my way back to my schedules and emails, I would have a full inbox of notification plus reminders for unattended sessions.

In my defense, I was busy. The story couldn’t write itself and Mia – my editor – would have my ass if she didn’t get a full draft of it by the end of this week.

Once again, all the red flags were ignored. And I couldn’t remember what I was dreaming about.

#short story #draft #notproofread #i wrote this a while back #i have an idea #where this might go #kind of #im sharing #for the first time

0 notes

hvpydraft · 5 years ago

Text

Dreams.

When i opened my eyes, i couldn’t see much.

It was dark, which was odd because it never happened after dark, but then again i never had the privilege of knowing first hand how everything was going to take place.

This time it looks like i was standing in the middle of nowhere. I had been in nowhere before but in the end, it was always somewhere – I turned around, took one more look but still couldn’t see anything that might sparked familiarity – usually it were small details like a tree, a sign or even a person,... making nowhere became somewhere.

At cue, there were rustling sounds under my feet, ruffles in my ears and an open field across the street. I said it was a street but it was more of a narrow, rocky trail. As intriguing as watching everything started to make sense, i had no interest of crossing – i must wait here. I didn’t know for how long but i must. I waited until the winds picked up, until there was the moon – a crescent one – in the sky. I waited until i shifted from one leg to another for how many times i lost count. Until i wanted to take a seat...

On my right, a bench suddenly presented itself. Tilted my head, i tried to recall if it was there the last time i turned around but i could not remember. I took the seat anyway.

I sat there for a more while, or at least i believed time did pass around here – It was always hard to grasp the blurry concept of time whenever i found myself in this position, nor feel, nor anything. Especially when i was waiting.

A lamp post made everything a bit brighter, a bus sign sprouted from my right, on which read the next stop was three minutes from now – It seemed i was waiting for a bus – It had always been a moving vessel. Last time it was a boat, the other time before it was a train, some other times were either a plane or even a roller coaster. But never a bus. First time for everything i guessed.

The bus in question slowly cut through the night, approaching the station in snail pace. From a far i spied it was a piece of junk; crusty, rusty, crackling on its track. Gusts of wind picked up fast. They combed through the wild grass, making them caressed each other, hissing sounds filled the void and i shivered under the cold. I wondered if it was warmer on the bus, maybe i could roll up the windows, that unless there were windows on that thing.

Would i need a ticket for it?

The bus ate its break in front of my eyes and its door sprung opened.

Guesses not.

The steps creaked under my weights, it whole head shifted to one side as where i stood. The driver seat was empty – there were no driver, no valet – the door automatically closed behind me and the wheels started moving. I should had been hesitant, should had chill running down my back but my legs carried my way down the back, like nothing happened. Someone was waiting for me and that was all i cared,

I took a seat on the far end, not quite the last row but right above the streaky tires. The seat by the windows as i expected was already taken.

“I’m sorry for this has no glass.” The person said, implying the lack of shield on the windows.

It was a man with a familiar face, one i had seen too many times to the point i could have easily pick him out in a queue, literary in my sleep. Though his hair was a bit longer since the last time i saw him, cheek hollower, eyes haunting, sunken, deepen – hovering above the left eye there was faded line i yearned to touch, which stood out even more as his face sharpen and skin darker. He looked like he terribly need a goodnight sleep.

“Since when do you have beard?” I asked wryly.

He consciously touched his chin, where said beard lay and twitched.

“I’ve been busy. Don’t you like it? I think it’s cool.”

I shrugged. “It’s different.”

Some extra body hair made him almost handsomely rugged, far different than the lanky boy i had in mind.

I should have known better; every time i saw him he was a bit foreign than the last. One day he showed up taller than me, one day way tanner, sometime in the past his face was full of pimples and the next with wicked jawline. Though he never quite grew out of the length of his limbs, even they had muscle now; strong and lean muscles.

“How are you lately?”

“Fine, i guessed.” I said, blinking a tad too fast. “I think i was finishing up the last few pages of my latest draft when you called.”

I missed him.

When i was nine, i had a crush on this boy in my class. I didn’t remember how he looked like nor how i managed to develop feelings for him – the fact i could have a genuine emotional connection with anyone aside from my family was an amazing feast by itself – there were a lot of thing i didn’t remember about him but there was one thing i did; his name.

“Deondre.” It’d been years since that name escaped my lips. It left a strange taste on my tongue, yet rolling out easier than i thought. That name held no significance to me but i guessed it had always been there, in the back of my mind, locked away, waiting to be drawn back out.

I couldn’t recall much what eventually came down between us – we were nine, so i reckoned not much – just some small interactions here and there or fragments of flashbacks. He and the memories about him faded as years passed, until one day i had no recall of him down the road. It would have been fine just like that, as a ‘good old time’, as a reminder i was not always as “cold” and “unbothered” as i was dubbed.

Until one day, he stood in front of me again.

The ‘reunion’ wasn’t what i expect it to be – a cup of coffee or tea would be nice, catching up with each other would be fine but definitely not on a moving train to nowhere.

I first dreamt of him when i was fifteen.

I couldn’t recall what went down, it was seven years ago after all. But i knew who he was the moment i lay my eyes on him. Maybe there wasn’t anything with that dream. Maybe i did spend the entire time looking at his face and wondered how – he looked different – but it was brief and sweet. The boy i had a crush on was lanky and awkward at best, the young man sat next to me radiated confidence. The boy i had a crush on would trip over his own feet while running up to me with a bar of chocolate in his hand on Valentine day. The young man sat next to me flashed me a Colgate smile brighter than my future at the time. The boy had crocked teeth, he had perfect rows.

He took my hand in his and we sat like that not saying a single word.

Every time i opened my eyes it was just another dream, ones that would become blurry and dismissive when i got back to reality.

“Sorry to disturb you. Though i feel like it was necessary.” His voice was low, too low. “You were drinking, weren’t you?”

Alcohol and me we were like ex lovers. We pushed and we pulled, we were toxic to each other but the temptation were so attractive.

I didn’t get surprised. Deondre knew everything.

What i wasn’t expecting was the fact he mentioned it straight out - for the pass ten years we never talked about anything that was outside what happened in the moment as reality was a taboo subject for both of us, it didn’t have a place in the unconsciousness. I thought we never would. We met, we made small talks about the flowers we saw on the way, how the clouds here were always the same shapes, or maybe we should be more creative and decorated next time with cotton candy and chocolate fountains. Sometimes we went out for few walks before he sent me on my way.

The sunken eyes of his had dark bags now, i hadn’t noticed.

He took my hand in his, brought it to his lips. His breathes was so shaky i could feel it on my skin.

“Are you okay?”

He whispered against my skin. His voice was so grave, it broke my heart a little.

“I’m doing fine.”

“You know you don’t have to lie to me right?” He said. “You can’t actually”

I didn’t look at him, didn’t dare to. Instead, i was focus on something that wasn’t here.

“When was the last time you cried?”

“A while.” I said. “I missed it. Crying. It sucks and it hurts but at least it makes everything a bit bearable.”

“Then cry.”

“It won’t come out.” Shaking my head, i said bitterly. “Beside, for what? There are no reason for me to cry.”

“Did you talk about it-”

“Don’t.” I cut him mid sentence. “Anything but that question.”

The bus stopped abruptly causing me to lunge forwards, hitting my head into the seat in front. When i turned around to check on him, he wasn’t sitting any more but stood quietly in the walk way.

“Promise me that you will be fine. And be careful – “

“Of what?”

Biting his lip, the look on his face was grim. He took my hands again, this time it felt a bit cold. Or was it always cold, because i never noticed how it would feel, the contact.

“Of yourself. After all, isn’t it why i am here?” He said. “Inside your head. Confronting you, reminding you?”

Before i could say anything, he took my face by two hands, holding my nape and leaned forwards. His lips met mine in a rush and desperate attempt. His lips moved softly as warmth spread through my body.

“I want to see you again.”

And every time, wanted or not. I melted into the kiss.

When i opened my eyes again, i saw my messy desk with scattering drafts and books. The computer was still on, my fingers lingering on the keyboard for when i felt asleep i must be typing, which i would have to look over the whole page once again to got the feel back and knew where the hell i was in the story. But before that i needed to get rid of the feeling of lost and disorientation from blurry memories and incoherent patches of what i was dreaming, clouding my head.

There were no bus, no empty field or sign of another person in my room. Everything was a dream like it always had been. Nothing seemed real except for the fathom touch on my lips.

I reached out for the cup of water i always kept on the stand nearby and downed it in one go when a small bottle of white pills caught my eyes, ignoring the golden whiskey right next to it.

In the back of my mind – a very, very, very far back section – i had an idea why he said what he said by the look of the full pill bottle. I couldn’t recall the last time i took one of those as i was prescripted. Right now i bet if i trade my way back to my schedules and emails, i would have a full inbox of notification plus reminders for unattended sessions.

In my defense, i was busy. The story couldn’t write itself and Mia – my editor – would have my ass if she didn’t get a full draft of it by the end of this week.

Once again, all the red flags were ignored. And i couldn’t remember what i was dreaming about.

#Dreams #writing prompt #prompts #draft

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fmdtaeyongarchive · 5 years ago

Text

↬ i hope this autumn breeze scatters our memories away.

date: august 2019.

location: ash’s apartment + a studio at bc.

word count: 1,881 words.

summary: ash said (sorta) fuck love... my impact...

notes: creative claims verification. please blame any part of this that doesn’t make sense on the medicine i’ve been on the whole time i was writing it.

mid-august 2019.

ash sat down at the piano bench and set his phone down next to it, voice memo app set to record. he hadn’t done this in a while. back in the days before he’d become so busy with solo schedules and proven himself as a creative enough for songwriting to be a real part of his job, he used to do this all the time. he’d have too many feelings not to let out in some way (he’d been less practiced at keeping it all in then) and the piano was a loyal friend who always listened. it had been his closest confidant since he’d been four years old. it didn’t matter that he’d been to so many different instruments to confide his troubles. in the end, they all represented the same thing, and that’s what drew him to even the most foreign piano.

a piano was the one thing that had been by his side in his life the longest. friends and partners had come and gone, but the relationship between ash and the nearest piano had never grown stale, even when schedules had kept him away for extended periods of time and caused neglect of their bond. no matter how short his time with the black and white keys was, he never forgot how to connect with them, and that’s more than he could say for so many of the people who had passed through his life — and for so many of the people who had once been his entire life.

it’d only been a few months that he’d had a piano to call his own. moving out into his own place, a used baby grand was one of the first items he’d invested in for his new home’s interior. more than privacy or peace and quiet, he had a piano to call his own placed in front of the expansive set of windows that fronted his living room. he hadn’t had many opportunities to sit down at it and make music, but, as naturally as if he’d been doing it every night for the past half a year, he let his fingers spread out over the keys and start their push and pull, practiced endlessly until it had become nothing more than sheer instinct. like gentle waves crashing upon sand, taking and delivering in equal measure, his hands slowly traced out experimental notes and chords as he attempted to recreate the composition that had been forming itself in his head for the past few hours, itching to come out and be brought to life.

a piano was so different from the keyboard in his studio. the keys had lived a life of their own and they pushed back against the press of his fingers in a battle happening on the microscopic level, but it was a battle of passion, not wrath. there had been times he’d set to work at the keys with anger, but never toward the instrument itself. simmering anger was better for composing than the explosive type. art laid in the intricacies of a dynamic range, something more straight-on emotions didn’t lend themselves as simply to.

ash wasn’t able to put a name to all of the feelings he felt in the moment. there were too many and they’d interwoven with another until they became unrecognizable, only able to be expressed in the wave of his fingers.

it was a simple set of chords. it wouldn’t be anything notable for its complexity, but it was remorseful and unrelenting. there was a reluctance to follow the beat, and ash replayed sections as he figured them out multiple times to make sure the feeling was conveyed into the recording he’d be transposing over into his computer later by ear.

it only took about an hour for him to have one final recorded memo of the composition that he was pleased with.

lyrics had come in bits and pieces as he composed, as tied to the music as the piano notes themselves. the words that came to him told a story that wasn’t his own. not now, at least. they were a story he’d lived time and time again in the past, but had never let come out in such bitter words.

love. it’d been the thing ash had sought out ever since he’d been a little boy with only the way his parents looked at each other and the way they sneaked kisses as they made dinner to idealize. he’d written more love songs than he could ever hope to release about every person who’d taken a piece of his heart since he was a teenager. even before then, ash remembered the elementary poetry he’d written about the butterflies he got from the boy who was so good at soccer at recess and the lengthy love letter he’d composed to his fifth grade “girlfriend”. love songs had filled most every playlist he listened to. even when he had gone through heartbreak, he’d listen to them to remind himself love was still out there.

now, he didn’t want to remind himself of that. where had love songs gotten him? they hadn’t ever made anyone stay, or kept insecurities from bringing love to a fizzling end, or made a relationship with his career and his own mind to contend with any easier. the mirage revealed its truth eventually every time, so why was it so hard to let go of the ideal he’d painted for himself that he clearly wasn’t meant to have?

if he could shatter his stupid heart on the floor of his living room like glass, he would.

late august 2019.

“are you sure you wrote this?”

ash snapped his eyes from his computer screen to the woman standing next to him at her question. of course he’d written it. he wasn’t about to start plagiarizing and claiming someone else’s work as his own. and if he ever did finally abandon all of his morals, it wasn’t going to be for a proposed last minute addition to a track list that was supposed to already be finished. it’d definitely be because he had finally snapped and decided to end his own career because bc wouldn’t end his suffering for him.

“yes?” he answered incredulously and the first response he got in return was a laugh. it wasn’t a malicious laugh, but ash remained tense nonetheless, unable to catch on to what she was implying in his own fatigue-ridden mind and they way her tone was much more humorous than his.

“sorry,” she apologized, seeming to catch on that his mind wasn’t working at a fast enough speed to read her tone. “it doesn’t sound like you. well, it does. i’ve heard your heartbreak songs. but this is so cynical. you wrote ‘some’ and those songs you wrote on knight’s albums. they’re cute. i don’t know. i expected something more like that.”

ash’s tensed shoulders relaxed, but not completely. the singles he’d promoted from i’m young and daydream had both been songs about heartbreak. he’d written more songs about heartbreak than happiness in a relationship or the butterflies of having a crush if he considered everything he’d ever written. negative feelings were easier for him to write about than positive ones most of the time. they were easier to lose himself in and they were more plentiful in his life for the past few years. why was it hard to believe he’d written this? not to mention cute had been off the table the minute bc had decided he had some sort of marketable sex appeal that they’d been neglecting.

“it’s not that out of left field. and there’s already songs with a similar feeling on the album. that’s why i was going to suggest adding it. the whole back half of the track list is about disillusionment with love, so it should fit,” ash countered, trying not to sound as defensive as he felt. “i geared all of the production to fit in with the sound of the album.” had he failed?

“wasn’t it supposed to be about the sad feelings after a break up? ‘disillusionment with love’ is taking that pretty far.”

ash wanted to argue back, but he didn’t have the energy and she wasn’t wrong. those exact words had never been raised when discussing the concept of the album, and he hadn’t envisioned it in such pessimistic terms when the album had been in its early stages either. it was only when he’d begun writing this song that disillusionment became such a defining term for him. he knew why. his own mindset had changed in the months since the album had begun and he himself had become disillusioned. “but does it work? for the album? do you think it’d be worth pitching?” he asked, more interested in getting an answer to the reason he’d asked her to listen in the first place than dwell on his own roller coaster of emotions recently. or the continuing roller coaster ride of emotions he’d been stuck on for the last four years, seemingly either unable to get off or purposefully torturing himself by refusing to.

“yeah, give it a go. it’s a good fit sonically. you’ve just got to convince them to take such a late addition,” the woman said with a shrug. “but clean up the percussion a little bit. it gets lost in itself.” ash assumed their conversation would end there before she quirked her head at him, one hand on her hip in a stance that prepared ash to be questioned. he wasn’t prepared for what that question was going to be, though. “i don’t want to be nosy, but did someone break your heart recently? you’re pretty easy to see through.”

ash was too exhausted to keep his expression from revealing the surprise at her inquiry. that really wasn’t any of her business and he didn’t consider them close enough to discuss that. they weren’t anything more than work colleagues and ash wasn’t even one for discussing his love life with his closest friends, but he wasn’t blunt enough to say that. she had good intentions, he was sure, but anyone who had sat in on writing sessions with him more than once or heard drafts of his songs should know he didn’t like discussing the details of his private life beyond what he willingly laid out in his songs. it wasn’t how he worked. too many people were under the impression they knew his life already for him to want to voluntarily share the truth with anyone not involved.

“nope.” he forced a smile and a nonchalant shrug similar to her own. he got a dubious look in return and ash swiveled in his chair to face the computer screen again. “really, no. but thanks for listening. and the percussion, i’ll fix that. thanks for the tip. i’ll send it over to some people and hopefully there’s still time to add it.”

he wasn’t lying to her. no one else had done the breaking. he couldn’t blame anyone else for something he’d done himself.

he’d thought his heart had broken so many times, but it was still there, beating and hoping in the background, even when he was the one doing his damnedest to fracture it beyond repair.

#fmdverification #any time i write about ash and an instrument i end up having to delete chunks because it sounds questionable #as it should. ashiano otp #piash #please don't use this as an example of how to do a writing verification it's a really bad example #arguably The Worst Example #&& queued

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