#mainly because i am not in my car recording so i need to be considerate of neighbors and whatnot

[miodiodavinci]

voicebank recording hard but listening through your recordings on the days you can't record to find any samples that need redoing is harder

[mvrkgeoli]

GHOSTING

pairing: ghost!yuta x reader genre: kinda 50s - 60s au for yuta, ghost au, angst, some fluff, kinda mature..? word count: 5.3k warnings: a handful of satanic themes, mentions of death / killing, bittersweet ending i’m sorry author’s note: lowercase intended. this is my first kinda lengthy fic and um yea i hope u like c:

settling into a new place where you weren't familiar with sure was draining, especially when you barely knew anyone around along with a long drive that separated you from your already long time friends. you had to move to alleviate the time it took to travel to the university you recently got into. renting a flat for yourself to live alone was the first "adult achievement" you had overcome, as how your mother would word it out. what definitely stunned you was how cheap the place was, for a whole flat you thought it would have cost you a few more hundreds at least.

from what you heard from the small old building's landlord, not entirely in detail, the flat was apparently owned by multiple in the past. you didn't mind it at all, you couldn't let such a price go for a student like yourself already struggling, happy with the fact that it was somewhat already furnished, furniture sitting dusted probably by the time that had passed from the last owner. some things stayed from all the years the building went through, mainly only the furniture and appliances being changed through the years. mentally reminding yourself to thank your bestfriend doyoung for helping you find places with affordable prices after you finish settling in the last of your belongings.

a few weeks had passed, finding yourself in a comfortable position in your bed along with stress clouding your mind from all the requirements already building up in the first semester. not to mention all the weird happenings that had been going on, you didn't know if you were just tired or already gone crazy.

the first time something happened was the day after you settled in the flat. the blinds in your room shut by itself just when you were going to bed, it had reminded you to close them before you drifted off into your deep slumber to shut off any peeping toms, you paid no mind to it thinking it was meant to be and nudged you as your first blunder.

the most recent one was by far the creepiest. the feeling of breathing against your ear sent shivers down your spine, sitting up from your bed abruptly, breaking you off from your little nap. the past ones had always been short hasty movements from the furniture or your belongings, sure they alarmed and spooked you but in contrast to the breathing occurrence, it was slow and calm, it felt so close. it continued for as long as it could until your wake that night, the feeling savored in your head for the rest of the day.

which leads you to today, texting doyoung if he knew anything about the unit before he suggested it to you. watching the small bubbles bobbing in your screen as you waited for his response, a short message making its way into your sight after a few moments.

dodoie | today at 6:23 not that i know of?? all i know is someone living there before but you already knew that :0

you sent him a brief thank you before shifting to your laptop to look for answers yourself, only thinking about it now after the breathing incident. first looking up the address, only the map and pictures of the neighboring buildings coming up.

after some time, you sighed to yourself, searching the last thing you wanted to if any incidents had happened in the building. woefully, an old article from a newspaper front decades ago popped up. the title reading, “nakamoto yuta, found dead in apartment…” a picture of the boy was attached, he had black slightly grown out hair, his smile was so pure you found yourself with a growing frown on your face.

what came next however, was a wave of shock running through your body at the discovery, quickly opening a new tab to search for the said name.

“local student uncovered to be a satanist—“ you trailed off, rubbing the palms of your hands against your face in stress.

clicking on another link to a 4chan discussion about the recent discovery, you saw a bulletin about the boy and some photos of the very unit you were in. he was apparently a sweet boy from what the neighboring people said. a boy who had a bright fresh smile that could lighten up any mood, it was unexpected for him to be revealed as such a person.

there was a picture of a girl next to yuta named kaiju, said to be the boy’s lovely girlfriend. the two lived together and were seen as the perfect couple.

after hours of scrolling through the page, you found a small recording of an old interview of the girl crying. “i-it was tragic… he was the perfect man— i thought he was the perfect man..” she sobbed. you frowned at your screen, eyes widening when a clip of the apartment rolled. it showed the floorboards under their refrigerator being opened to reveal different notes and certain objects that were said to be used for satanism.

you sat up to run to the kitchen, bringing your laptop with you. you compared the clip to the room in front of you. a cabinet sat where the fridge you saw was in the clip, you sighed to yourself before setting down your laptop to pull the cabinet aside.

nose scrunching in distaste as below you unveiled dust and dead bugs, taking the first utensil you could reach, in this case; a fork. you pried on the wood beneath you, pulling your shirt up to cover your nose from the dust that spread from your tampering. the wood popped open with a loud thump, you peeked inside to face dark emptiness. there sat cobwebs and dust for who knows how long, your eyebrows furrowed as the thought of the government probably collecting everything that had concerned the incident.

just when you were going to put back the floorboards, a noise rattled into your ears. you flinched back at the sound before taking into consideration to shine your phone’s flashlight at the darkness it held. there you saw the emptiness clearer. before you gave up, you saw one of the sides with little scratches and indents in the corner.

taking the fork again, you attempted to pry another piece of wood open, unfortunately failing when the prongs of the fork bent along with the burn of your fingers from using all your strength trying to open the side.

“almost...”

the voice seemed so close to you, letting out a yelp as you snapped your head towards the voice’s direction to face the empty kitchen. your breaths were heavy, heart beating at a pace you think it hasn’t been in before, your figure trembling as you hurry to unlock your phone to send all the articles you had found about this “yuta” to doyoung.

you slept by the unit’s entrance door that night in case you had to escape in a hurry.

you woke up to knocking on your door, groggily getting up from the floor to stretching briefly.

“hold on..!” you stood up and checked the little peep hole to reveal your bestfriend along with another boy.

opening the door immediately to face the pair staring back at you with questioning faces.

“jesus, did you sleep under a couch or something?” the unannounced boy spoke up. doyoung nudging him with his elbow in response, turning back to you with a small smile.

“sorry about him, this is donghy—“ “haechan.” doyoung rolled his eyes as he was cut off before continuing, “‘haechan’ right- this is one of my distant cousins haechan, i don’t think we have the money to hire a professional to check the place out but haechan here used to be in a ‘paranormal investigations club.’ and offered to help because he found you cute— ow!” an eyebrow raised at doyoung’s words as you watched the exchange between the boys. “anyways i called you and sent you messages hours ago, i thought something happened.”

you picked up your phone from the floor, the screen lighting up with multiple notifications. “oh.. sorry, i guess i was a heavy sleeper last night- wait you went all the way here!?” your eyes widened at the sudden realization, embracing the taller boy in your arms before inviting the pair inside straight away.

“holy shit the guy was into satanism?” haechan read in shock, his thumb scrolling through one of the articles you had sent doyoung. “you’re only reading it now?” doyoung scoffed at the boy as he shook his head, sitting himself right next to you on the couch.

“w..well yeah, i thought it wouldn’t be too big of a problem…” the boy rubbed on the nape of his neck in humiliation, to which your bestfriend responded with a low sigh. “i didn’t drive us an hour for you to end up useless, hyuck.” “—haechan!” doyoung only rolled his eyes at the other.

“and i’m not completely useless! one of the club members, chenle, used to say that ghosts usually only have unfinished business if they stay behind in this world. maybe we can confront this ‘yuta’ politely or make a deal with him-“ you raised a brow towards haechan rubbing the space between your brows in distress. “are you seriously telling me to make a deal? with a satanist? you’re basically making me make a deal with the devil, literally!”

haechan put his hands up in defense, eyes widening at your small burst. “okay, okay! what i’m saying is, if chenle was right about ghosts having unfinished business, maybe you can help ‘yuta’ to finish! if he was wrong, you can try getting a deal or something to leave you alone i guess.”

you sighed in defeat, this chenle guy could be right, but you would still take risk on having a deal with this guy. “so… how ‘bout it?” haechan shrugged as his eyebrows arched in proposition, to which you rolled your eyes. “okay kid, but how am i gonna summon him?”

“take this just in case.” haechan handed you a small bag, ‘iodized salt’ it read. you only nodded and casted him a quick thank you before he proceeded to enter the elder’s car first, giving doyoung another longing hug as he nagged on if you needed any more help. “sorry about donghyuck again, call me if anything serious happens. i’m also at fault here kinda ‘cause i suggested this place to you with no research.”

“what’s with ‘haechan’ anyway? and it’s fine, it was my fault i only looked at the price before deciding.” doyoung laughed and glanced over to the boy sitting in the passenger seat before turning back to face you. “he said it was a cool ‘code name’, he didn’t want any ghosts to know his name. anyway, seriously if worst comes to worst, it may cost more money but i’ll try helping with looking for another place.” you snickered softly before thanking him again.

and so, you were left alone again, waving goodbye to the car drifting off your sight. sighing to yourself as you went back into the building, sitting on the couch to research more about summoning dead people safely if that was even possible.

several hours had passed from reading about ghosts and looking for the right supplies, you just got back from a close bookstore to buy three new tall candles for summoning the little friend that had been haunting you, planning on doing it at midnight just like the “easy tutorial” donghyuck made doyoung send you.

later, moving to your bathroom hastily wanting to just get it over with, bringing the candles, a marker, along with the bag of salt donghyuck had given you. hunching over the bathtub to draw a decent sized summoning circle. placing the lengthened candles to three points of the summoning circle, you filled up the tub with at least an inch of water before lighting them.

you switched off the lights, closing the door before kneeling down behind the bathtub. taking a deep breath as you closed your eyes in advance of doing a cheesy chant along with saying the perpetrator’s name three times just like what donghyuck’s tutorial said.

“... nakamoto yuta,” the first holler of his name was said, already feeling stupid for using such a cliché way of summoning. “nakamoto yuta,” in an instant, your lips quivered when you felt your surroundings turn darker. “nakamoto..” the room felt colder, your ears ringing from how quiet the ambience had shifted. your breathing trembled as you finished the chant. “.. yuta.”

“so you did have the guts.”

your eyes crack open at the voice, only to face total darkness. the candles, from what you assume, blew over which meant something must have definitely happened. jumping back in a hurry as you rushed to turn on the lights, your breaths turned shorter as your eyes met with a dark haired man standing in the bathtub, right on top of the summoning circle you drew. your immediate reaction was ripping open the bag donghyuck gave and shoving it at the man as you recoiled your arms to cover your head in a corner.

a distant grunt echoed around the bathroom, followed by water sloshing around and dripping footsteps nearing your shaking figure. tears pricked your eyes as you felt the clear presence of the man get closer.

“this is table salt.”

thanks a lot, donghyuck.

your eyes creak open slightly, eyes meeting once again with the dark haired man. head still in your arms as you refused to lift your head for him, you spoke with a shaky voice. “yu.. yuta…?” your eyes were glued to the tiles of the floor, a peek of the man’s wet shoes making its way to your vision.

“that’s me— oh god, i don’t look like what i looked like when i died right??” your ears perked at the tone of his voice, eyebrows furrowing at the question. ‘oh god’? wasn’t he on the devil’s side? why was that his first question? why did he sound so soft? hearing the soft clacking of the soles of his shoes walking away, you lift your head to see the rear side of the man attempting to inspect himself and shake off the salt you threw at him.

“y-you’re a lot uh.. a lot less intimidating than i thought…” you spoke up, yuta turned to look at you with his big eyes before walking back to crouch down your eye level. “am i really?” you cowered back, his voice cutting you off before you could open your mouth. “i’m kidding, sorry..”

your fingertips reached out to feel his forearm in curiosity, lips pursing when it made contact to yuta’s arm. it felt real, the way your fingers would bounce back when pushed on the boy’s flesh. “you seem.. so normal- almost too normal…” his eyes trailed down to follow your finger’s movements, blinking to himself before speaking up. “i am normal- or i guess was… i won’t hurt you, don't worry.”

your eyebrows arched, skeptical of the man in front of you. eyes traveling down to let yourself think; in retrospect, for all of the things that have been happening, you will admit that none of them had hurt you in any way. your head tilted back up, still hesitant about everything and anything at that moment.

“okay, let’s- let’s have a small nice and calm talk—“

you sat across the ghost in the dining area in silence, your face buried in your clammy hands as you still couldn’t process everything. he sat stiff in front of you, blinking to himself as you both seemed like waiting for something to happen.

“it’s not true, y’know.” he broke the ice and attempted to make the first move to talk, he watched as your head tipped up at his voice, finally drinking in your features when you fixed your posture and pushed back the hair that got in the way of your face. “— the articles you read- i mean..”

you stared at the man in front of you dubiously. if he knew about the articles you’ve seen, how much of you did he see, you thought to yourself suddenly. blinking several times before thinking of a response. “the what?”

“the things you saw about me. they weren’t true.” his eyes trailed down to stare blankly at the center of the table as his fingers fiddled with the table’s ridges. you only raised a brow at the man, eyes following his movements.

“uh huh, okay..” you found yourself just nodding and humming to his words trying to talk you into him being good, you couldn’t trust someone that easily, even more so when it was a ghost who was known to be supporting the devil itself. “how am i supposed to believe a satanis—“ he looked at you with his wide eyes at this, palms laying flat against the table. “i’m not, i swear.. i haven’t done anything bad right?” listening to the man before you speaking softly shifting tone as he continued, almost as if he was scolding himself rather. “i didn’t hurt you? i didn’t hurt anyone who’s lived here before you! i didn’t hurt kaiju either!”

your eyes widened at the name, his past lover. staring closely at the man’s face, you almost see tears welling up in his eyes. choosing to silence yourself after the outburst not wanting to madden the boy in front of you more, you thought of anything calm to respond with.

you avert your gaze to the side as you saw the man stand up to walk away, listening to the soft footsteps he left behind him. lips pursing as you tried to think of anything to calm the mood.

“here.” you heard his voice ring from the kitchen area. looking up from your spaced out gaze to find yuta standing with his arms crossed by the cabinet you had previously moved. you stood up from your seat to walk to the kitchen in silence, making few steps to get beside the boy.

“open it again.” you only nodded, still feeling the awkwardness lingering in the air. you moved the cabinet aside once more, grabbing another fork from the kitchen drawer to pry open the floorboards. sitting on your knees as you face the empty compartment, eyes trained on the blemished side of the hollow cavity. you stared up at yuta only to face a blank look on his face insinuating for you to continue.

“i already tried…” you put the fork down to slouch. “i know, now try again.” he persisted, you only took a breath in before attempting to open another hidden compartment within the one already opened.

after several forks bent, a few dulled knives, the annoying thumping of a hammer ringing in your ears and your hands stinging with burns from the pressure forced onto them, you successfully pried open what seemed like the most superglued pieces of wood together to reveal an old looking shoebox. pulling it out before sitting comfortably to uncrate the box.

yuta crouched down beside you as you uncovered the shoebox. revealing a tattered pouch, something wrapped with worn down linen and some papers with characters you couldn’t read, opening the pouch with interest and dumping the contents onto the shoebox’s lid to exhibit different kinds of pendants and even some small lockets.

moving onto the linen wrapped item, you handled it with frail fingers, it weighed down your hands slightly making you more curious. it unraveled a small dagger.

you wince at the sight and dropped the dagger abruptly, the loud clang of the blade as it ground rang for what seemed like forever. it was covered with maroon. forcing yourself to think that it was just rust and not what you thought it was, you turned to yuta with your shaky eyes.

“she took one thing from people she had targeted after she was finished.” he said mindlessly, reaching forward to fiddle with the trinkets spilled from the pouch. you however, sat back to process the new discovery.

‘she’? you thought to yourself. kaiju? was it her? you blinked to yourself and tried to piece things together. the clip of kaiju sobbing appeared in your head. not once did she talk about the insights of their relationship when it was about ‘yuta’s satanism’. she even knew where the compartment was located after yuta’s death claiming he had left it open. burying your head into your dusted hands. yuta was haunting the unit not because he was bad.

he just wanted to be found.

you knew something felt off when you saw her smile whenever the public pitied her for the loss of her ‘lover’.

the thought of yuta staying for years being painted and seen as a bad person by the public made a frown quickly grow on your face, you fixated your eyes on the man beside you as he absentmindedly toyed with the small belongings of other people. the other people. did they stay behind and want to be found too? you thought.

“i’m so sorry…” you finally spoke words, yuta nodded and stood from the ground. “you summoned me to get rid of me right? sorry to break it to you but i was left here as a spirit beca—“ you took a sharp inhale at his words, standing up to face the taller.

“i wanna help you. this guy said people like you were left here as a ghost because they have—“ yuta looked at you with uninterested eyes. “unfinished business. i know, i was there when that haechan guy came.” he sighed and looked off to the side in contempt before continuing. “y’know, i’d be happy to accept but it’s hard when even i don’t know what my ‘unfinished business’ is. it made me think after what he said sunk in… what if we don’t move on after death. we don’t even know if that’s true.. who knows, maybe i’ll stay here as a ghost forever.”

you clenched your jaw as yuta spoke, he made fair points and what ifs. it made you even more mad that kaiju got away with it, yuta was portrayed as the bad guy and they left the case at that. “i’ll tell the police about this— i.. i can change what they think about you…!” yuta only shrugged, your eyes followed after his steps as he sat back down by the table. you trailed after him, sitting next to him this time. “it’s been years. i doubt all the people who were alive back then would care or would even remember.”

a sigh spilled from your mouth as you fell into a slump next to his careless state, you went from wanting to move out of the flat to feeling like you wanted to protect yuta and the apartment he had died in. “thanks though. for putting in effort i mean- all the people before you moved out in weeks or just ran away.”

he stared at your tired figure, eyes wandering to your distended fingers. he appreciated the pain your body had went through to see him, the thought of you wanting to even help him made him realize how much he missed how nice it felt to be given a care for. yuta watched as you straighten your posture back up to face him, he felt how dissatisfied you were by the droop of your eyes.

“then let’s still try.. we don’t know if what haechan’s friend said was true, just like you said but that doesn’t mean it isn’t. we just don’t know yet, it could be true! so let’s try..!” yuta blinked at your determination, letting out a chuckle for the first time since you met him. “you seriously don’t have to put this much into helping—“

“i don’t care! i don’t think i can live on with the thought of this man rotting here when i’m living my life like it’s back to normal. just let me help you… even if it fails i’ll be glad to know that i tried my best.” you thumped a fist to the table’s surface, seeing yuta flinch at the corner of your eye.

yuta had been rotting in this hell hole for years, he had long forgotten what it felt like to be important, even being thought about made him feel like he still had purpose. he was sure that if he still had a functioning heart, it’d be beating with how warm he felt.

“okay.. let’s try.”

a few weeks had passed, both of you agreeing to act like normal as if you were roommates, though the only difference was yuta not needing to eat nor bathe or anything, in an attempt to make your new ghostly friend feel happiness. he shared that he lived a pretty decent life, although short he was happy. he had no one who seemed like they would put up a fight with him, bad things that would come across nor anything physical that was unfinished from what he could remember of his life when he was alive- other than being killed and sacrificed to satan of course.

you contacted doyoung to tell and explain what really happened, he however didn’t know how to feel about the situation. a friendly ghost being by his bestfriend’s side almost 24/7, he was happy that you didn’t get killed or possessed or anything but he was skeptical that he hasn’t seen the man himself whenever you facetimed or called. yuta on the other hand refused to show himself even if he couldn’t be seen anyway especially if haechan was with doyoung, if you were in a call, he’d simply just hang around in a different room not wanting to lift some book just to prove he was actually the one moving it.

in yuta’s perspective, he thinks that this was probably the happiest and lively he’s been in years. he had someone to talk to, hang out with after he spent all this time trying to get attention from people and being lonely. you were there to listen to all the stories he had from all the exciting things he experienced and went through, and he was there when you needed someone to rant to even about the most random and little things. even teaching him about modern technology and watching series he hadn’t watched.

yuta felt like his presence was valued. sometimes he’d forget that he was even dead when he was having fun with you. you believe that everything was working out well, you almost felt like stopping because if you were to be honest, you probably had shared some of the happiest moments as well and didn’t want anything to end.

as more days, weeks, months passed by like nothing, yuta was at his peak of happiness spending time with you and learning about how things had changed through the years.

you made an anonymous 4chan thread about the truth, you wanted justice for yuta to be seen as someone he truly was. you named yourself as someone who lives in the flat currently and acted as someone who was curious about the old building. soon a small group who theorized yuta being innocent was formed, it made you glad that even a handful of people believed that he was actually good.

yuta shortly requested if he could lay with you in bed after you got comfortable with his company, claiming that ghosts could feel sore too. you only laughed and agreed, you learned that he had his ways to charm you into his silliness.

“so what was with the breathing?” you suddenly remembered the whole reason why you summoned yuta in the first place. he shifted his head to the side to look at you, bottom lip pushing out slightly as he tried to think. “the what breathing?”

“i remember feeling someone breathing against me, it was kinda the last straw with me back then before i did research about the place and found out about you.” yuta hummed to himself as he thinks all the way back to when you were kind of new to the place, he swore he could feel his face warm up when he realized what you were talking about.

“... i was uh.. you know how i get lonely right— i mean-! i swear i was just laying in bed! i didn’t realize i was so close to you and affected you!” you smirked at the response, giggling at how he babbled on and tried to explain himself. “hmm okay, perv.”

“i— what?” yuta sat up slightly, using his elbows to support his body on the soft mattress. “i mean, you probably have already seen me naked.”

“hey! i know being a ghost is creepy but i’m not that kind of creepy… i suppose i have seen— but i swear i didn’t think anything filthy of it-!” you laughed at the man’s embarrassed face, brushing off the topic to save the man from sinking further into shyness.

“y’know, i don’t think i’d get to see ghosts the same way as i did before i met you.” you started off, yuta only stared at you with interest as you continued. “i didn’t even believe in them before this, and everyone in the world thinks ghosts are always out to kill or haunt you or something.” your eyes trailed forward to look at your ceiling, thinking of the right words to say.

“but now i know.. a lot of you probably just want closure from death, it makes me sad that most of you just rot away not doing anything, moving stuff to get our attention and stuff, no wonder some tired and lonely ones end up haunting places with bad intentions.” yuta blinked at your sudden burst of feelings in words, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of finally being understood.

“it’s too bad that you guys are usually interpreted as bad people, when you’re just finding your way to peace.” you didn’t realize a tear slipped down the side of your face until yuta wiped it off with his cold fingers. he fully sat up to face you, following suit to the man beside you.

yuta hesitated before leaning in slowly, you closed your eyes in content. lips pressing against his cold slightly chapped ones, you felt one of his hands travel up to cup your cheek gently. yuta felt himself flood his own tears after so long. the kiss lasted a good moment, it was sweet and genuine. pulling away with slightly hooded eyes, you cupped his cheeks with both hands, leaning in once more to kiss away the man’s tears.

“it’s okay, let it all out…” you whispered tenderly, he might be decades older than you but he was still the bright young hopeful boy he once was.

the happy moment quickly converted into confusion when you saw his figure slowly turn translucent, seeing the light sourced by the room peek through him slightly. he turned back to you with a happy smile this time, his voice rung in your ears with a slightly thrilled voice. “i think i understand what my ‘unfinished business’ was.”

your eyes widened further as you thread your fingers through his soft tufts of hair. “w-what do you mean…?” you weren’t ready to let go of him yet, your eyes swelled with tears as he spoke once more.

“yuta! no.. what—!?” you watched as your hands sunk into his figure. you couldn’t feel him anymore.

“thank you for loving me back.” you stared at the man in dejection, your breaths turning shallow as your time with yuta came to an end. he was finally at peace. eyes pouring rivers at the realization that he was actually gone, if past you knew that he was gone now, you would probably be happy.

weren’t you supposed to be happy? this was your goal from the beginning, why did it feel like a part of you died along with yuta’s disappearance. you slumped in devastation. yuta didn’t want to live perfect and happy.

he just wanted to be loved genuinely.

you didn’t even get to say the words to him, it was too late when you were certain you felt these strong feelings for the man.

“i love you too.”

[internalsealpanic]

Radio Silence

Summary: You take Tim with you to a family reunion hoping to monopolize his time. You may have forgotten to tell him a few things. For example, the haunted radio.

masterlist

a/n: I’m sorry for the wait. I forgot that I am no longer used to describing atmosphere. This isn’t my best work but I hope you like it. This was based on my family’s tradition of sitting in the dark on Halloween listening to scary stories on the radio. This is mainly Tim Drake x Filipino!Reader because I realley wanted to try my hand at a bilingual character. You will see misspelling of words in the dialogue. That’s intentional on my part. There will be translations.

“Yes, Nay, he’s the one in the picture,”

“No! It’s the guy with-” You blow out an exasperated breath. You hear Tim snicker behind you and you dedicate half your brain cells to coming up with the best way to kick his ass.  “Yung mukhang Koreano. Yeah. Yeah. Dat one.”

“Yes, he looks more like a white boy. Mistiso.” You explain curtly.

“Yes, he’s smart. I hab standards,” Tim raises a disbelieving brow at you. You stick your tongue out at him but nearly bite it off when your grandmother speaks again.

“What do you mean doubtful?!” Tim looks absolutely delighted. A cheshire smile curling on his lips as he leans back into your couch. You glare at him then at your phone then at the ceiling then past that to glare at whatever god was up there.

“THAT WAS ONE TIME! Justine was an-” You mutter trying to remember the word.  “- an anomaly and you know it!”

“…..”

“Ok der were 2 anomalies!”

“3”

“Ok maybe Tim is the anomaly, but seriously, Nay, he’s fine,” You snarl, the jaggedness of your Gotham accent rearing its head. You wince but do not apologize. This will bite you in the ass later but you didn’t say it. You don’t like the taste of the word.

“No. I mean if you don’t want us to embarrass you at the church social then- Yes, I have been going to church,” You can see Tim rolling his eyes and mouthing liar with a twitch of his lip in the corner of your vision. “No, he’s not the showy type. Nay, I gotta go. The food’s burning,”

“Yes, Nay, I lab you bery mach,” You sigh into the phone letting your grandmother’s lather your tongue cutting into the briskness of your consonants. It held the same euphoria as taking off your shoes after a particularly long day.

“Unless you’re Dick, you can’t burn cereal,” Tim cut in carting you away from your reverie.

“Watch me, Drake,” You huff throwing a pillow at Tim almost making him drop his cereal bowl.

“So, can Gotham survive without Red Robin for a weekend?”

“Shouldn’t you have asked me this before telling your grandma that you’re taking me?”

“I’m just double-checking,”

“How considerate,”

“To be fair, your schedule is already volatile as is,"  You huff snuggling up to him on the couch. It was too cold in Tim’s apartment. You think a rich kid like him could afford to turn up the heat. Though, you aren’t exactly going to complain about an excuse to cuddle him.

Tim doesn’t make a move to push you away. Instead, he wraps his arm around you pulling you closer. This was the type of easy affection you two had become accustomed to. This was also the thing that will make your Schrade even more convincing. "True, but I asked Cass and the others to cover for me. Plus, your grandma sounds like she likes me,”

“Considering you don’t have a criminal record and aren’t currently being investigated, you immediately rocketed to the top of her list,” You answer absentmindedly stirring your cereal and taking a bite.

Tim whips his head to you and gives you a concerned look which you return with a smile full of cereal. He blanches at you, shaking his head and grabbing the remote to unpause the Star Trek episode you two were watching. You both prop your feet up and chew your cereal slowly, not feeling any reason to hurry.

How long has it been since you started? You’re pretty sure it was 1 AM when you started.

As if reading your mind, Tim looks at his phone, winces then turns back to the screen without another word.  You quirk your brow at him but decide that there is some truth to the saying ignorance is bliss.

You were gonna hate yourselves come noon.

 It’s noon, the sun has the audacity to show itself,  and you hate yourself.

You definitely, unequivocally hate yourself.

You groan in the passenger seat, head pressed against the cool window. The faint warmth of the sun glancing off your skin makes the tinges of nausea circling the periphery of your senses come to life. Your stomach does a cartwheel and you think- you’re sure you’re going to throw up but you aren’t gonna do that.

No way in hell are you gonna do that. Not when you’ve finally conned your way into monopolizing Tim’s attention for the weekend.

Ok, yeah, sure it was the result of some miscommunication between you and your cousin who then passed on the miscommunication to the whole goddamn family but that’s just what you call a happy accident.

You blow out a breath, greedily taking in all the coolness of the glass pressed against your skin calling your mind back to your body. You weren’t really good with handling the not sleeping thing.

“You ok?” Tim asked his eyes flickering between you and the alarmingly empty road. There was worry in his eyes whether it was the fact that you looked like shit or the fact that the road you were on looked like the opening to a terrible 80s slasher flick. It was Halloween after all. It would be pretty perfect. Dread licks at your stomach at the thought.

You let the silence lapse. In the corner of your eye, you see Tim’s hand tighten on the steering wheel. You stare at the expanse of farmland stretching to the horizon debating whether to humor his question or to let him stew.

“I’m fine,” You picked the third option.

“You don’t look fine,” Tim deadpans, turning to you.

“Stop looking then-” Tim scowls at you his pouty lips pulling into an angle. You sneer. “-You don’t look too good yourself, Kirk,”

Tim makes an offended noise. You look at Tim, really look at him, for the first time in hours. Tim, as per usual, looked obnoxiously handsome even though he was running on at most 30 minutes of sleep and had eye bags running down his face. Somewhere lost in his contemplative expression was the blindingly obvious hint of self doubt. You’ve seen it tons of times.

You peel yourself away from the cool glass to look Tim in the eyes. Dread swims in the pools of teal looking straight back at you. Tim’s mouth edges between a pout and a frown. You soften, shifting in your seat angling until your body is facing his.

“Whatever it is you’re overthinking it,”

“You don’t even know what I’m thinking!”

“Ay,” You chuckle and shake your head. “Tim, it’s you. You overthink everything. I don’t need to be a mind reader to see that,”

 Tim huffs. Maybe he was overthinking things.

“ ‘sides, I don’t see why you would be nervous 'bout meeting my family,”

Has it occurred to you I want to date you for real at some point? Tim thought a little frustrated.

You laugh when he frowns but instead of teasing him any further. You flick the radio on. Your hackles rise as it crackles to life. A smile flickers on your face when ‘All-star’ comes on. You cry out, a noise of shrill joy filling the air.

“Oh my god” Tim breathes, running his long fingers through his dark hair. “You absolute dork,”

“Kettle. Pot.” You grin.

Tim snorts as you loudly sing along with the radio. Unfortunately for him, your enthusiasm for the song was infectious. Somehow you both managed to miss every beat of the song.

You somehow felt like you were definitely forgetting something.

6 cans of monster and 5 things of 5-hour-energy drink later, you arrived. Tim’s nice-looking car pulls into the dusty gravel driveway of a rather large and old colonial looking house. Seeing the robust form of the large house looming in the distance injected your veins with a stifling source of dread. 

You love your family to bits but sometimes their presence weighed so much. You can feel their words already pecking at you, drawing pit and pieces of your self into frayed fibers. All you can think about were the comments hushed behind palms and the dissecting gaze of dark eyes. Your mouth feels dry and you can already feel your feet pivoting back towards the car.

Tim reaches for your hand, lacing his slender fingers between yours.  He smiles at you squeezing your hand. You can feel him rattling from his own anxiety but his effort steadies you. You grin at him and squeeze back.  

Your teeth click the entire walk up to the large oak doors. Tim squeezes your hand again, his teal eyes sweeping over you with a concerned glint. You furrow your brow and somehow he understands and raises his hand to knock on the door.

The door bursts open. Music and laughter wash over you as hands hurry you into the front hall.

“Nay! Dito na sya! May dalang gwapo!” (Mom, y/n’s here and they brought someone handsome.)

About 20 heads turn to look at you. Tim feels some embarrassment from the attention but that doesn’t last too long as in the space of about 5 seconds, those 20 heads were swarming you both, pulling you into hugs, shaking your hands, and ruffling your hair in varying degrees of force and order.

“Beh, you’ve grown so big” Your aunt coos squishing your face.

“Nena, look at this guy,”

“Tita, he doesn’t have any tattoos,” Your little cousin marveled looking bug-eyed as she lifted Tim’s shirt. You swat her away but take a quick second to subtly admire Tim’s sculpted abs. Your aunt scolds him and your uncle drags you to the main room where more guests were sitting chattering or screaming at a foreign horror movie.   

All the apprehension bundled into your stiff shoulders dissolves like seafoam against the overwhelming warmth of the festivities. The raucous laughter drags the roughness of Gotham away from your tongue. In place of your slow, careful syllables are quick clattering consonants and concise vowels. Your vowels were still elongated and angled to a sharp point unlike the nearly musical words of your cousins but as you said before ‘Gotham has its way of burying itself in your bones’. Tim just never thought about how saliently it showed itself in words. He wonders how his accent (folded, neat, and sterilized) sounds to you. He wonders how dull he sounds to you.

You have teased him about it. You’ve teased him endlessly about the way upper-class Manhattan just rolls off his tongue, how Alfred’s British affectations worm their way into his syllables. What you don’t tell him is how the smooth velvet of his words lull you into a hypnotic state that steals every bit of oxygen from your lungs.  What you can’t make yourself tell him is that you would gladly spend your whole life listening to him read a fucking phone book. 

The festivities were lively and informal. Jokes flying every which way. All alternating between your native tongue. You laugh into your drink, hiding the hesitant curve blunting your infectious smile. Tim nudges you to ask what’s wrong but you simply nudge him back and shake your head as if he had said something funny. Your relatives didn’t seem to notice your demeanor or if they did they left it alone.

Tim decides to leave it alone for now. Instead, he leaned into the flow of conversation. His years of speaking at galas working their magic on your aunts. They bombarded him with questions. Most of which sounded like screening questions at the embassy. You snarled at them more than once to knock it off but Tim shook it off. He knows they’re just worried about you the same way he worried for you. Well, not the same way but it was their way of showing they cared. He lets himself be immersed in the conversation.  It’s more like he tuned into the sweet sound of your laughter but made sure to dedicate enough restraint to not look like a love-sick puppy.

“Tanga!” (MORON!)

“Baliw!” (Crazy!)

“E gago ka pala, di ba halata yun?” (No shit sherlock, isn’t it obvious?)

Tim is at best confused as he watches the volley of words between you and your cousin. Your voices rising above the blaring karaoke. Anthony (?) clamps a hand on his shoulder and laughs as he watches you and Martin (?) hurl insults at each other. In the corner of your eye, you watch his reactions checking if he understood a word. He isn’t fluent but he understood bits and pieces. He’s heard you mutter angrily about customers enough times to distinguish an insult. 

“Dun worry about 'em. They won’t fight. They’re stupid but they’re not that stupid. ‘Sides, they’re too afraid of Nay for that,”

Tim gives Anthony a doubtful look. Anthony chuckles at him, clapping him on the back urging him to keep watching. He does if only to make sure you’ll be alright. When he does, he tunes into your words. Tim marvels at how musical you sound as you trade another round of rapid-fire jabs with Martin, how at ease you seem. Tim makes a mental note to get you to teach him. Though, he wasn’t entirely sure how he would justify it.  Admittedly, part of it was just wanting to spend more time with you.

He can probably swing it.

A surge of protectiveness crowds his veins when Martin grabs at you but his hand is swatted by a cane. The air crackles with a sharp snap. The room plunges into silence.  A small woman with silver hair stands tall and imperious at the other end of the cane. You and your cousins stiffen.

“Hi Nay,” You trail off with a distinct lack of grace. You swallow the lump forming your throat, robbed of any coherent thought by the stinging look in her eyes. You felt bare under her gaze. Layers and layers of skin peeling beneath the weight of her attention. Fury flickers like firelight across her dark eyes. Your skin suddenly felt like lint and you were sure you would catch fire.

A pause.

A bated breath held for what felt like an eternity.

“Iha(Iho), It’s been so long,” She says, softening. Her wrinkled face stretches into a kind smile that made you think of freshly cooked vegetables.  Her cane folding to her side as she loops her arm over your shoulders. “It’s nays to see you,”

A choked sound comes out of you and you feel something shake loose. “Missed you too, Nay,” You breathed. Tim feels awkward, fidgeting in his place.  

The soft smile on your grandmother fades a little. Her sharp eyes appraising Tim. The look wasn’t particularly venomous, but it left Tim feeling like he’d been cut open and analyzed. He wasn’t entirely sure of why you were all so scared of her before but now he fully understood.

She relinquishes her grip on you and urges you to go back to Tim. You frown a little, giving her a suspicious look which she returns innocently.  You let out a little breath before walking back to Tim’s side. She gives him another long once over before silently strolling away. His stomach churned but eased at your touch. You still look uneasy but you don’t fuss over it. Not when Martin decides that he wasn’t quite done with bickering.

 The festivities went on as normal. Maybe with a little less cussing going around. But Tim barely noticed when your laugh, free of any hesitance, echoed sonorously in his ear as he held you close. 

Roz presses a drink into his hand. “Congrats, you’ve survived round one of Nay’s hazing,”

“Round one?” Tim hiccups into his drink. He coughed. The beer was strong. A strangely potent amount of alcohol that made his throat burn.

“Yeah, Roz, that was more like round 2.” You mutter sullenly, distinctly taking no sips of the drink Roz had also handed you. The paranoid Bat-part of his brain screams that he’s been poisoned. He’s struggling not to let it win over but your conversation wasn’t helping.

“Nay will eat him alive,”

“I mean. She’ll do it nicely,”

“Pfffft, right! Ok, Tony, name one time she’s been nice.”

“How about-”

“The thing with Y/n earlier doesn’t count,”

“Why not?”

“There was a hidden agenda,”

“Oh shit! The bitch is right- Ow! You are!”

You look at Tim apologetically and squeeze his hand. Somehow this does not calm his nerves, but he tries his best to ease into his touch.

 On the trip here, you warned him that it was going to be exhausting. He assumed, incorrectly, that you were exaggerating. After all, he’s survived snobby rich people and his family. Your family seemed nice. He can survive a nice family dinner.

But what you neglected to tell him was that it would be sheer chaos.  He definitely wasn’t prepared for the sensory overload.  The house was almost unbearably loud compared to the manor. Every corner was filled with people chattering, playing games,  eating, and doing anything to entertain themselves. Sure, Tim was used to chaos but he was more accustomed to short bursts. He wasn’t quite as prepared for the seemingly endless stream of conversations and liquor.

You had definitely not prepared his poor unassuming introverted ass well enough. Not even halfway through the night, Tim was ready to crash. The 20 minutes of sleep he got beforehand had not helped. 

You, the angel that you are, guide him away from the party. You drag yourselves down the wide yawning corridor to the grand staircase.

Lit only by the thin veil of moonlight, the house showed its age. Walking up the stairs and walking through its hallways was like falling through time. The halls were lined with paintings, all landscapes and still-lifes. He’s thankful for that small mercy. His head swimming in liquor, he is reminded of the portraits at Wayne Manor and how their eyes burned at you as you passed.

The lack of portraits doesn’t make the house any less creepy mind you. Religious fixtures line the halls, crucifixes affixed to every arch-like mistletoes. There were doll-like statues of hollow-eyed saints at every corner table. It might have been the dancing moonlight but Tim swore he saw one of them move. Tim suddenly wishes he hadn’t ingested so much liquor.

Before long, you make your way to a bedroom. How the hell you knew which one to put him in was anyone’s guess. You lead him into the room. Touch gentle and careful as you coaxed him in. Soft jazzy music echoing hauntingly. The dancing moonlight and the solid shadows of the room highlighting your gorgeous features, drawing his attention to your plush lips. You lean over him to make sure he was indeed still part of the living. Liquid courage surging in his face, he presses his lips to yours. It’s cautious. He gently runs his hand through your hair, pulling you towards him with a push. The press of his lips is restrained, more of a question than a demand. Slightly chapped lips press against your sweet and searching.

Tim remembers the warm press of your lips, the way the pads of fingers trail against the soft fabric of his shirt, your warm breath fanning against his cool skin, then nothing.

Knock

Knock

KNOCK

Tim grouses into his pillow. Tim was having an absolutely wonderful dream. He could still feel your warm lips against his.  Tim squeezes his eyes trying to go back to sleep.

Knock

KNOCK

KNOCK

‘1 AM’ the antique analog clock at the nightstand reads.

“I’m up!” He lies burying himself further into the thick sheets.

His brothers really needed to stop breaking into his apartment at 1-

KNOCK

KNOCK

KNOCK

Tim nearly falls out of bed when he remembers where he is. He jams a shirt over his head and some sweatpants before stumbling to the door.

“Hey Tim, you coming?” Anthony asks through the crack of the door.

Tim opens the door a little wider. “Where?”

“Outside,” Roz shrugs vaguely.

 “Whe-”

You step out of your room, extremely hesitant. Your knuckles were turning white from apprehension. You look at Tim, surprise plain in your eyes. You flinch heat rising to your cheeks. Tim remembers the texture of your soft lips. He wishes that wasn’t a dream. You glare at your cousins who give you a confused look. 

“Roz, he-”

“Awwww, ‘insan, you’re actually coming?” Martin mocks clapping you on the shoulder drawing, what Tim considers, an adorable squeak from you. His heart almost leaps from his chest when your warm body presses further into Tim’s side. You can’t hear it but Tim’s breath stutters in his chest.  He loops his arm around you protectively. Martin gives both of you a sly conspiratorial look.

You scowl at Martin. Glaring with as much intensity and intimidation your burning cheeks would allow. Roz swats him over the head making him almost topple down the steps before Anthony even gets a chance to rebuke him. Instead, Anthony turns to you, brows furrowed. “You sure you want to come? Nay said-”

“La a!” Martin protested. Roz rolls her eyes and swats him again. “Dipshit’s right. Nay didn’t say jack,”

“Then why did you swat me?”

“E, I felt like it e,”

“Bish, whose side are you on?!” He snarls but before he can lunge at Roz, Anthony is already dragging him by the scruff of his neck.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh! Not so loud. The kids will hear us,”

“I for one will not help you wrangle tita’s crotch gremlins,”

“We’re going to be late and Nay is going to unleash hell upon us,”

Anxiously, you tug at Tim urging him to follow your cousins as they filed out through the back door.

 “Where are we going?” Tim hisses.

All four of you share a look.

“We’ll explain,” You promise.

 The journey was eerie. Punctuated by the fact that none of you explain jack. The walk was entirely silent, devoid of bickering or any sort of conversation. He can see the silence driving both Roz and Anthony mad. You honestly look like you’re going to keel over. The odd thing was that even the birds were silent. Not a single sound penetrated the thick canopy of juniper trees.

You wonder the woods guided only by the thin ribbons of silver light peaking through the thick clouds of leaves. Tim can feel your pulse as it thundered in your chest. No matter what was going on he would keep you safe.

You arrive in front of a rusted gate half a foot shorter than Tim. It was small, easily climbable with plenty of spiraling pieces to stick your foot into for purchase if needed. Your eyes cut to Roz who fished out a key he’d seen perched on one of the coat racks.  Hesitantly, you held your hand out for the key. Roz, on the other hand, all but slammed it into your hand, grinning in a mix of absolute glee and relief. Your teeth click as you worked the lock. He wants to suggest just going over it but you seem quite adamant and he wasn’t about to push your nerves.

Finally, the lock gives in.

You all file in one at a time in a sort of practiced motion. Beyond the gates was a path with its stones polished from a shine from use. The scarce light coming from the canopy of trees rippling against them. It lit the rest of the way still keeping the surroundings in deep shadow.

The path ended in front of a small dilapidated stone structure that seemed too small to house anything.

“Age before beauty,” Martin jeers, bending down dramatically urging Roz to go in. She, in turn, shoves him in with a swift kick. The dark interior of the structure swallows him whole. Her dark eyes cut to you. You swallow but ultimately you shrug off Tim’s hold and relinquish your death grip on Tim’s arm. You let out a shaky breath as you step over the threshold. Just like Martin before you, the shadows leave no trace of you.

Tim reaches for the last bit of your swaying blanket. Roz taking the chance shoves Tim over the threshold, his vision goes pitch black.

“See you there, lover boy~”

The darkness is all-encompassing making his eyes completely useless as much as he tries to adjust them. Instead, he strains all of his other senses. He feels the press of moss-covered walls closing in on him. The staircase only seemed wide enough to let one person pass at a time. The stairs wind in shallow predictable patterns. The scent of moss and burning firewood grew heavy as he made his descent. Distantly, he could hear the soft padding of your shoes against the stone but he also heard the crackle of jazzy music. It was the kind he only heard from the old black and white movies Bruce and Alfred watched. It was oddly familiar but he couldn’t place it. The smooth baritone of the singer rattles in his head. A shiver of mild discomfort travels up his spine.

After what feels like an eternity, Tim emerges. His eyes slamming shut from the sudden brightness of his surroundings. He blinks, eyes adjusting to the light. His eyes take in his surroundings.

He was in a clearing. It was man-made, constructed using the same stones that lined the path you’d taken. The stone walls were covered in moss and ivy, but the stone that did peak out reflected the moonlight freely raining drown from the clear autumn sky. In the center of the space, sit 9 people including yourself. All cast in the warm glow of the crackling bonfire. It is a living thing, raging and casting shadows sharpening and obscuring features.

“I’m so glad you could join us, Timothy,” Your grandmother calls out as she fiddles with the nobs of the old radio perched in her lap. It crackles uncooperatively despite her efforts. He can’t pry his eyes away from it even as he takes his seat next to your shivering form.

Without much thought, Tim pulls you close. You tremble, teeth still clicking eyes wild and fixed on the radio. The radio is a curious thing. It’s an old model. It’s sleek but dotted with various nobs and switches. If he had to guess, it was something out of the 1960s. In the periphery of his senses, he hears Roz and Anthony step out of the staircase and take their places in the circle with Roz sitting right next to your grandmother.

Your grandmother stops fiddling with the radio then turns to Roz who is now comfortably seated. Your teeth chatter and your shoulder hitch as they silently converse. Roz inhales then exhales. Her dark eyes sweep over all of you making sure she had your attention. Based on the silence and the still forms, she did. She sits a little straighter, her shoulders rolling back.

She throws herself into a tale. It was a story she’d heard long ago about a man, a house, and a secret. Her calm voice carries over the soft roaring of the bonfire. It wasn’t the scariest tale Tim had heard but Roz told it well. Well enough to draw squeaks from several people including yourself.

Tim relaxes catching on to the turn of events. He lets you press into his side as you make your feeble attempt to get away from the story. Tim chuckles at the amount of theatrics you’ve all put into building up to this little gathering. However, all his smug skepticism vanishes when Roz finishes her story.

The static from the radio vanishes. Its various nobs move without assistance and its switches click into place.  The same baritone voice carries from the radio. Tim doesn’t hear what it says as his mind reels. He turns to you and opens his mouth to ask but Anthony begins his tale before Tim can even formulate his question. Beside him, you fidget with his sleeve shaking hands clenching and unclenching on the fabric.

Tim remembers how much you hate ghost stories. You’d once gotten sick with a fever just from watching horror movies. At this point, you were on the verge of tears. Your breathing slowed abnormally as Martin finished his story. The radio predictably did not whirr to life after his story. Through your chattering teeth, you give your cousin a vicious smile which he volleys by sticking his tongue out petulantly.

It’s your turn.

You squeeze Tim’s hand twice before worming out of his grasp. You flutter your long lashes, lightcatching in them looking golden as the fire flickered urging you to delve into your story. You roll your shoulders and let your blanket and apprehension slide away in one smooth action.

You tell your story.

 Your countenance still and grave as you tell a story of crossroads and terrible choices.

The radio huffs, seemingly amused by your effort.

“Well, y/n,” The radio coos. Your name drips like molasses from its speakers. It’s unsettling how crisp it sounds. Its voice absent of static as it addresses you. “You sure do know about bad choices. I believe so does that young thing- Pardon me. Young things swimming in the harbor. They’re just a tinsy bit cut up about it.” The radio teases almost sounding gleeful. You nod gravely, stomach reaching the floor.

Harbor?

You settle back down into your seat. Tim nudges you, cocking his head to the side to question you. Your fist clenches and unclenches in your lap before you look him in the eyes again.

“Case,” You mouth silently.

It clicks.

The harbor.

 The bodies.

That’s what the radio meant.

Someone clears their throat urging Tim to tell a story. He stumbles through a half-remembered urban legend he heard from Steph awhile ago. His mind far too preoccupied with the new information to really devote to any theatrics.

 His turn passes.

And the stories continue as he mulls over the information.

It’s your grandmother’s turn. Your hand grips Tim’s arms white-knuckled. You attempt to swallow down the fear but it catches in your throat constricting your airway. The flames dance casting her face in sinister shadows that bring out all the sharp angles in her features. Her smile curls cruel. Her bony fingers trace the seems and delicate patterns embossed on the old radio. Static erupts loud then dies down just as quickly. Her smokey voice fills the air. Heavy and commanding. The story spills from her lips smooth and velvety slick with gore and unspoken horrors. None of you dare to speak. Some don’t even breathe. Your hands scrabble for purchase on Tim’s shirt as you bury your face in his chest. You feel him wrap himself around you shielding you the best he can. Ear pressed to his chest, you can hear Tim’s pulse hammering. The terror soaking through to his bones. He remains steady. Unflinching even as the story reaches its climax.

The flames flash, fade, then flicker.  

The radio crackles.

The smooth baritone of its voice distorting into something undeniably inhuman.

Shadows dance.

Their hands reaching out as the flames did. A hard yank from one of them nearly topples you out of Tim’s arms.  He shifts you both away from their grasp. He glares fiercely at them making sure you’re safe.

Sorrowful moans fill the air but your grandmother is undeterred.

With a shrill cry from the radio, everything dies down.

The shadows retreat.

The fire simmers down now small and tame.

Everyone lets out a breath. Both of you could feel everyone unfurl. Tense muscles, locked jaws, tight chests all loosen with the end of the story.

For a long moment, the entire circle is still. Then your grandmother stands up. The rest follow her in a mostly quiet procession up the steps.

“Roddy was harsh this year,” Martin whines.

“Nope, you’re just terrible at it. I mean hell even y/n got an answer. It was creepy as all shit but they got an answer,”

“Uh- Is it a good time to ask what just happened?”

Your cousins turn to you.

“You really didn’t tell him anything, did you?”

“How do you propose I bring up the demonic radio?”

“Pffft,”

“Pirst, it isn’t demonic. Do you really think Nay would have kept it if it was?”

“She lets Martin hang around,”

“…….”

“Dis is a good point,”

“HEY”

Tim clears his throat.

“Raaayt, Ok so… once a year we tell the spooky radio stories so we can get answers or our future told,”

“Was the whole creepy walk necessary?”

“Nope,” You answer in chorus.

“It’s just our way of psyching up for it,”

“It’s your guy’s way. Tita at least let’s me hum songs,”

“Well excuse me for not wanting to listen to you sing,”

“Is there anything else you guys want to tell me?”

“Aside from y/n really not wanting to tell-”

You snarl at your cousins, red-faced and bearing your teeth. Martin and Roz cackle as they run. Anthony has the decency to at least look slightly apologetic as he runs.

“Y/n… What aren’t you telling me?”

“Tim, I- I’m- Damn it- I-” You put your hands on your face. You try to calm your breaths. “Look Tim, I-”You take another breath. “I’m sorry. I kissed you but you were drunk-”

“Wait that wasn’t a dream?” There’s a flicker in Tim’s chest.

You look at him mortified. You want the ground to swallow you whole. “Yeah, I- Tim, I know it’s- I’m sorry.”

He remains silent.

Your stomach feels like it’s going to burn up.

“I-”

“I want a redo,”

“A what?”

“A redo,” 

a/n: I will rework the ending at some point but thank you for reading! 

 taglist:   @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders (I wanna drag you into Terry hell), @l-horizon11

[queerchoicesblog]

Home Is Where Your Heart Is

Folks, here’s the final update of the wlw story set in the Sixties, my third  miniseries of the wlw writing project. I just thought this was the right ending for this story...for once.

Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word!

New wlw miniseries will be posted once I gather enough inspiration and manage to write properly!

Previous Chapters: Living The Dream, The Girl Next Door, New Beginnings

___________________________

Two years after that day, I am flying all the way across the Atlantic, destination Paris. This time though I am not serving champagne and assisting the passengers. This time I am a passenger. It's my first time back 'on the other side' since I joined the Pan Am Airways...and it's the first time on a plane for Kelsey, sitting by my side. I let her have the window seat so that she could admire the ocean of clouds beneath us. She looked like a kid in a candy shop, sitting happily in her seat as the other passengers kept flowing in the main aisle. She even hushed me when my colleague was going through the cheerful welcoming speech, explaining the route and the safety measures. I shook my head and smiled at her enthusiasm. Then when the plane finally entered the takeoff runaway, I leaned closer and whispered to brace herself because we would need high speed to lift. She nodded and instinctively searched for my hand inhaling sharply as if she was the pilot in charge of the procedure. I took her hand into mine just as the engines started rumbling and I will never forget the look of purest amazement on Kelsey's face when we lifted from the ground and the airport buildings became smaller and smaller beneath us.

Of course I called her back. We met at Central Park a couple of weeks after our little chat. The sky was gloomy and chilly gusts of wind reminded us Spring is a whimsical season but I stopped caring about it the moment Kelsey waved at me. She was waiting on a bench holding herself in a plaid coat. It's silly but I remember every single detail and word we said that day. I asked her about her last exam and gave her a little gift I bought her during my last trip, reminiscing our conversation at the airport cafe. She wasn't expecting anything of that sort and gaped at the teddybear in beefeater uniform. I told her the clerk kindly reassured me that Archie, short for Archibald, was in perfect health conditions so he didn't need to be admitted to the toy hospital: she could keep it, he would make good guard of her. She chuckled and threw her arms around my neck, just like that, without thinking. I hugged her back and inhaled her perfume: it was sweet, vanilla maybe? When we parted, she insisted to get me a hot cocoa in return, "at the very least". So we ended up in a cozy little cafe she knew a few streets away. A good friend of her had worked there for a while before landing another job in a hotel, she told me: she offered to replace her but she had little luck and ended up at the airport. I found myself thinking that such shift wasn't so unlucky after all: had she got the job here, we would have never met, maybe. I hardly go downtown when I'm home, I mainly spend time with former colleagues or pay a visit to Nancy or my parents, whenever I can. How could have we met if she hadn't worked at the airport too? I didn't say it out loud though, I didn't want to be too blunt or -worse- make it all about me. She knew quite a few things about me already while I knew so little about her. We talked for hours, till the lamp lights gleamed in the streets, brightening the darkness now gently embracing the city. Kelsey told me more about her childhood in Michigan all cold mountains and icy lakes to skate on...it suddenly made sense that she wasn't bothered in the least by New York chill! How one day her hometown felt too small to contain her dreams so she moved to the big city, guest of an older brother who wasn't sent off to war. She enrolled to the nurse school and didn't waste time looking for a job. Even if juggling school and work was hard, it was what she wanted. And she felt like she was making her Nana proud. I liked hearing her talking of that woman who must have had a great influence on her or her roommates who held the wildest parties in the weekend despite their flat being anything but big enough to have room for all the friends and acquaintances they always managed to gather. It was a miracle that they hadn't had trouble with the neighbors so far... I couldn't help but notice that she quickly dismissed her parents and the sisters still living in Michigan. I wonder now if it has anything to do with the hint of sadness at the corner of Kelsey's eyes: as far as I know they didn't attend her graduation, months later, only her brother. He's in a Polaroid picture with the two of us pinned to the fridge: wearing his best suit and half hugging Kelsey, standing in the centre in her graduate gown and holding the gorgeous bouquet he gave her. We all smile at the camera...I'm sure Kelsey cherishes that picture as the brightest memory of her special day. Well, maybe one of the brightest memories of her special day. She held a little party in the evening to celebrate with her friends and roommates. His brother joined too and gallantly kept me company when I had no one to talk to. He reminded me of my Noah: he would have liked this party. Maybe he would have tried to impress the ladies with some smooth dance move and pouted at me if he failed...I suddenly realised that I could only hope he would still have legs to dance and walk when we meet again. If we meet again. I did my best to shake away such thoughts for the sake of the guest of honor, our graduate. I had a great time, despite the occasional nostalgia: we laughed, danced and drank cheap champagne, sloshing it over the rim as we cheered to the "new best nurse in town". Sadly, I couldn't stay as long as I wanted: I had to leave early in the morning, duty called. I left when the party was still in full swing after calling a cab. My steps echoed in the empty ground floor hall as I headed to the door, fixing my hair. The silence was abruptly broken a moment later by the sound of a familiar voice. "Sadie, wait!" I turned. Kelsey approached, panting as if she had run all the way down the stairs. Knowing her, she surely did. "Hey, nurse, wrong floor, the party is up there. Well, last time I checked" I joked while she caught her breath. My tease made her laugh. "Yeah I know...about that" she said, scratching the back of her neck. "Thank you for coming, I-I know you're always so busy and I truly appreciated you making time for me. It means a lot to me having you here today" She went quiet for a moment, breaking eye contact and looking at the tip of her shoes. I open my mouth to speak just when she met my gaze again with a deep sigh and a deep crimson spreading over her cheeks. "You mean a lot to me" Before she could think twice, she gently ran her hands up my arms and leaned closer. I tasted the cheap wine on her lips when they touched mine and smiled against her mouth as I returned the kiss. A sparkle of electricity ran through my spine as I pulled her close and her hands found my neck. Too soon a car honk outside broke the spell and we parted. "I'm afraid that's my cue and your guests are surely waiting too" I sighed and made to go but she stopped me. "Hold on" she giggled and ran a thumb underneath my bottom lip. "There, lipstick fixed, you can go now. If you have to, that is" We smiled to each other as I opened the front door. Before going my way, I gestured to the taxi driver and turned towards her. "You sure you're not drunk though?" Kelsey blushed and hugged herself. "What? No! I mean, maybe I'm a bit tipsy but..." she glanced over her shoulder to check if someone joined us and dropped her voice. "...But I meant it. I've wanted to do this for so long" I did my best not to blush myself and run into her arms once again. "Fine but...you owe me a sober one when I'm back. Just to make sure, you know" I winked, flashing her a smile. "Goodnight, nurse". That was the first of many kisses and many dates. Soon she found a job at the John Hopkins Hospital so meeting up was not always easy but now I all wanted when I had my time off between flights was to spend it with her. Talk to her over the phone whenever it wasn't possible. I held back a little at first: I didn't want to fall head first just like the other time just to be abandoned when I was no longer needed. Nor to be accidentally outed: I wasn't sure how my boss would take that. I explained it to Kelsey one night after much consideration: my voice surely shook as I spoke because I was dead scared that she would have changed her mind immediately after hearing my confession. I was wrong: there was no need to rush things, she said. She wasn't exactly out too and - she added with a soft chuckle- after all, she always knew that dating a Pan Am stewardess wouldn't be exactly easy. It wasn't easy, she was right. But she made it worth it. She won my heart with gentleness and sweetness, and I like to think I made her fall in love with me in a similar manner but only she can confirm it. Kelsey was extremely romantic, more than I first suspected. Unless she was terribly late, she would never leave for work without pinning a gracious note to the fridge if I was still sleeping, and she baked decadent heart-shaped chocolate cakes for my birthdays. When we went skating at Central Park around Christmas, with the excuse to help me balance, she wrapped an arm around my waist the whole time. For our first anniversary, we opted for a dinner at my place. I bought a bottle of champagne and a rose on my way back from the airport: when I handed the chas to the cashier, the heart was pounding in my chest in excitement...I felt like the main character of a romantic movie. Kelsey was a vision in the floral dress she bought for the occasion. When after dinner, we put on a soft record and slow danced barefoot in the living room, all the miles I had left behind to be there that day vanished from my mind. All I could think of was the woman in my arms, the scent on her skin, the comforting warmth radiating from her body when I spooned her at night. Her contagious laughter, those emerald eyes I would have never forgotten. It took me a moment to process she was whispering some Beatles lines into my ear. Oh please, say to me You'll let me be your man And please, say to me You'll let me hold your hand Now, let me hold your hand And when I touch you I feel happy inside It's such a feelin' that my love I can't hide That's when I...cried. I hid my head in the crook of her neck and cried all the tears of joy I think I would have never shed. They kept flowing, I couldn't stop. Poor Kelsey got all concerned and mortified, fearing she had ruined our night. When I could finally speak again, I cupped her face and brushed away a loose strand of hair. Smiling through the tears, I stroke her cheek and told her not to be silly. I'm sure the kiss I pressed on her lips after dropping the l word put her mind at ease. Since that day I am one of the most envied members of my crew. My colleagues always asks of my mysterious lover who puts such a big smile on my face and pamper me with the best anniversaries and sweet surprises. I don't share the full details with them and I'm amused to hear their theories concerning this or that passenger. I soon started realising what others found out sooner then I did: how badly I missed -and I still do miss - Kelsey when I'm away. I love travelling and all the perks my job has, but now a five days land off in a dream destination also meant five days, possibly a week without seeing my love. One day a pilot I befriended gave me his old Polaroid camera as a belated gift and I started taking pictures to show her once we were reunited. Old cathedrals, breathtaking tropical beaches, views of European streets or Japanese gardens....everything that would catch my eye. We make albums of them and they're all piled up in the living room library side by side with Kelsey's medicine books. Now a picture of us relaxing in the grass in front of the Eiffel Tower lays there too. When my feelings for my sweet nurse became stronger and stronger and she started spending most of the week at my place, I decided to ask her to move in with me. And to make a phone call. I wasn't sure what my parents would say so I called Nancy instead. I needed to call her anyway and I told her. The truth, at last. I caught my breath for the whole time she took a long pause before speaking again. "Are you happy now, Sadie? I always thought you deserved happiness, that kind of happiness but never figured out why it seemed so hard for you...are you now with this girl?" No trace of judgement or mockery. If my confession made her somehow uncomfortable, she didn't show. On the contrary, she asked if we could all have lunch together when they would visit New York the next month: Fred would be busy with business meetings for the most time but maybe we could have lunch downtown: she, little Cathy, Kelsey and I. And so we did. Kelsey was awfully nervous about the meeting even if she was curious to get to know my best friend. She soon discovered she had no need to be so tensed: Nancy flashed her one of her brightest smile and pulled her into a hug as if they were old friends already. Little Cathy was a bit shier and politely shook her hand before hiding behind me. She loosened up during the meal though: by the end, Cathy even offered to share some of her fries and surprisingly picked her to walk her to the desserts display. I asked the two of them to bring back something for us too and Cathy nodded before offering her hand to Kelsey. When they was out of earshot, Nancy took the old conspiratorial look I remembered from our high school days. "Someone's blushing" I chuckled but before I could say something she argued that she had so much time to make up to. And my companion seemed awfully nice. "As mom used to say, a health professional is always useful in a family" she added absentmindedly, playing with a stray. "Now we're family, huh?" "Hush, best friends are basically sisters and sisters are family" she shrugged. "And even Cathy likes her as far as I can tell. Oh, here they come and full of sugar!" As the two of them slided back into the booth and handed out our desserts, Nancy spoke again. "Kelsey, I was just telling Sadie that you should come visit one day" she suggested, throwing me a smile before addressing my love again. "Fred couldn't make it today but you can stay at our place and we can show you around. It'll be fun, especially if you've never been to Florida. What about Thanksgiving? If you have time and no previous arrangement that is" Kelsey froze with her fork still at mid-air searching my gaze. Her cheeks turned a little pink. "That would be-" I started but Nancy was quicker than me. "Take your time, just think about it. We don't need an answer now but we will be so happy to have auntie Sadie and Kelsey whenever it suits you, right, honey?" As she put an arm around Cathy's shoulder, her little girl nodded enthusiastcally and flashed us a chocolatey smile. Nancy, the gleeful avalanche. That eventually hosted the two of us during the winter holidays since Thanksgiving didn't work out. They took us on a Christmas lights tour and treated us like the most renewed guests. Fred kept a bit to himself as usual: I don't know what Nancy told him but he was friendly to both of us. We spent a whole afternoon babysitting my "niece" as her parents went buying the finishing touches for the grand dinner. We baked gingerbread men and Cathy was all smiles and cute contagious laughters. Covered with flour and ginger but happy. The few days we spent in Florida were so different from the life I dreamed and I'm used to, on and off airplanes, surfing the clouds and being one of the "feminine icons of the decade" as a magazine claimed". Yet they kindled something inside me: I will never regret my choice of becoming a stewardess but Nancy was right when she called it "a strategic retreat", among many other more appealing things. I remembered the question Kelsey asked me when we first met about being always elsewhere...sure, travelling around satiate my curiosity to see the world, meet new people but it was also a way to run away from what I thought I could never had: a place in the world, a place to call my own where I could feel loved and myself. All it took was a fortuitous meeting at JFK airport. All it took was a brilliant girl from Michigan. Now, little girls still ask me for pictures when I walk out of the Pan Am gate and tell me I'm the woman they want to be one day. But I don't bask in that glory as I used to when I started. When the vessel touches the ground again, I know that the best time of my day is approaching. Just an hour away. My heart bursts in sweet excitement for when I open the door of my apartment, hang my bowler hat to the coat hanger and smell the coffee brewing in the kitchen. I'll smile, hearing familiar steps approaching from the bedroom, and say my favourite refrain: "Kelsey, love, I'm home".

[twit-moonstar]

as long as we’re together - brian may x writer!reader

N/A: This is purely a self-indulgent fic I wrote mainly for myself, but I though it be nice to share and see what happens. First half of it it’s just y/n having a crisis, tho, and the second part is like domestic fluff. hope u enjoy! comments, reblogs and likes are greatly apreciated <3

As if being an adult wasn’t difficult enough, you had the dream of becoming a published author and, before starting to try to write, you hadn’t thought about the bohemian lifestyle you would have to face and embrace.

Your parents had pushed you—well, forced seemed a more appropriate word—to study Law, but after a few months after starting you dropped it. It wasn’t what you wanted, you were constantly stressed and unhappy by the prospect of the future that waited for you once you graduated.

Abandoning your career, though, meant the extra help your parents offered was snatched away from your hands. Rent wasn’t extremely expensive—you shared a little apartment with Brian and you only paid half of it—, but you still had to buy food and other necessary things.

Without your parent’s income, you had found work as a waitress at a restaurant and started to send your short stories to some newspapers and magazines to get a little extra money.

You had been suffering from a hard writer’s block lately, though.

Rereading for the second time the paragraph that you had already written five times, you ripped off the paper and made it a bun, throwing it on the floor. A new blank sheet confronted you and you decided to throw away your notebook and pencil with fury.

You were at the edge of tears. Not even that glass of cheap wine you swallowed half an hour ago had helped you to take off the feeling of utter desperation and defeat. If anything, it had only made you feel worse.

The words your father spate at you once or twice came to your mind. ‘All writers are just a bunch of alcoholics’. He had never appreciated your art, no one on your family did actually.

They wouldn’t probably support you until they had a properly published book of yours in their hands since your short stories on newspapers did not seem to impress them.

People have the impression that anyone can write but the truth is very few can manage to write words in a way that has any meaning something. Of course, you were starting to doubt you had that kind of talent.

You check the clock on the wall. 1 a.m. Fear starts to creep from your chest to your throat where it left a lump to settle on your head at this hour, usually, if you’re not sleeping.

These quiet moments at night are where you feel the most that you will never make it, that all your dreams are not more than a little dumb girl’s dream. The letter you received today just seems to fuel that thought. 

It’s like running behind a car, you think. You can never be fast enough to reach it, no matter how fast you run. 

You look at the notebook on the floor, just a few steps ahead of where you are sitting. You need to write something and send it to the newspaper tomorrow but nothing you wrote was good enough. You needed the money. You couldn’t allow Brian to pay again for your part, he was as short of money as you; especially now that his band was spending their money in their first album.

"What are you doing?" Brian asks with his arms crossed and his head resting against the wall, one of his curls falling over his eyes, but he doesn’t bother in push it away.

You don’t dare to look at him in the eyes, so instead, you keep your eyes down. "Just writing," you mutter.

He enters the living room, sitting next to you on the sofa. "Something is bothering you, isn’t it, my love?" Brian takes a lock of your hair and puts it behind your ear, then cupping your cheek.

You lean into his soothing touch with a heavy sigh that comes from the deepest of your chest.

"I- I just -" you sobbed and Brian hugged you immediately upon realizing it, his arms drawing you to his chest and one of his hands caressing your back in circles, comfortably. He shushed softly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, but you couldn’t hear more than your sobs drowned against his shirt.

Your eyes land on the ripped envelope on the table. You could recite the words on the letter inside by memory by how much you’ve stared at it. 

“What’s wrong?”

I’m a fucking fraud, that’s what’s wrong. What if I’m not good at writing? What if this isn’t what I was meant to be? If I’m not a writer, then who am I? But you can’t bring yourself to say that, the lump on your throat doesn’t allow you, so you just pull away and after taking the letter, you hand it to him. He starts to read with a careful expression. You recite it internally.

‘Dear Y/N Y/L/N Thank you very much for allowing us to consider your novel, which we have looked at with interest. However, I regret that we have reluctantly concluded that we could not publish it with commercial success…’

Did I waste all these years? 

“This is bullshit.”

You don’t expect to hear him curse so angrily, but his brows are furrowed and his usually soft hazel eyes are sparkling with fury.

“You’re extremely talented and your book is amazing! You spent years working on it!”

“Yeah.”

“I think it would be a fucking commercial success,” he states but you bite your inferior lip to avoid the tears from spilling. The editorial doesn’t think that way and seems like the rest of the others who received your novel didn’t either.

At least you got a response. Most people don’t even get that. 

“It’s the only response I’ve got, Bri. I don’t think I’ll ever get published,” you whisper and he throws the letter to the floor and kneels in front of you, wiping away your tears.

“Whatever. I’ve got to keep working,” you reply dryly, cleaning your face with your hands and picking up the notebook and the pen. Brian stares at you.

“No, you’re tired. I’ll prepare you a bath and then you can go to bed,” he states, taking away the notebook from your hands and you whine. 

“Brian! I have to do this!” You say furiously, but he doesn’t even flinch to your elevated tone of voice. You, on the other hand, close your eyes with regret and breath deeply.

“Bri, I’m busy. Let me alone.”

You hate yourself for asking him that because you don’t mean it. Being alone is the exact opposite of what you need, but you decide the money is far more important than your emotional state at the moment. 

You could always cry later.

“No. I know well enough to know what you’re trying to do. You’re overworking yourself while you drown on your self-pity.”

“I’m not doing that,” you say but the quickness on your reply gives you away.

“Please, take a bath,” he asks, taking your hand. 

You shrug. “I guess I could drown in the tub.”

He laughs with little amusement and leaves to return for you after ten minutes. You would be lying if you said the hot water didn’t look appealing. Brian helps you to take off your clothes and you sit on the tub. 

“Please tell me you didn’t use my oils and scents.”

“Uh, I did.”

“That was the last I had! I was saving them for a special occasion!”

“Drowning seems special enough,” he says with a shrug.

“Very funny.”

“What were you trying to write, anyway?”

“A story for the newspaper.”

“Why have you been selling your stories for cents? You know they have much worth than that,” he asks. He reaches for the shampoo, putting a bit on his hands and starting to wash your hair. You close your eyes and let him do it. Brian’s hands always find a way to relax.

“I need the money,” you reply.

“What for?”

“Rent and food.”

“Y/N, you know I can take care of it,” he says, almost reproaching you.

You feel a little uneasy before the idea of Brian paying for you, you didn’t like to ask money borrowed and less if you knew that he would be too gentlemanly to accept your money later, even if he needed it.

“We’re not a married couple in the thirties, Bri. I can’t ask you to pay for me. I don’t even know where did you get the money from last rent. I didn’t cover my part.”

“You don’t need to ask for anything, love.”

“Still, I don’t want you to do that”

“I know you just said we’re not a married couple but as long as we’re together, I’ll support you when you need me, y'know?”

Your eyes teared once again and you smiled as you tried to prevent crying again. How were you blessed with such a kind and considerate man like Brian? You were such a mess, lately, but he never backed off from being a firm yet gentle shoulder to cry on. 

“Thanks. I promise I’ll repay you,” you say. 

“You don’t have to. C’mmon, let’s get you out of the tube before you start to get too wrinkled,” he replies, helping you to stand out. As Brian leaves you to dry yourself, he gets you some comfortable clothes. Once you were dressed, you both lied on the bed, you on Brian’s arms. 

“Tell me about your day,” you said and you felt him smile against your hair. 

“We tried recording a new song today, I’m not quite sure if the name is good, though,” he commented, running his hand through your hair. You closed your eyes and let him ramble about the problems they had with today’s recording.

“You’re falling asleep already?” he asked in a whisper.

“No, I’m listening,” you mumbled but you felt yourself drifting away more and more.

“That’s okay, my love. Sleep.”

“I love you,” you mumbled.

“Love you too,” he replied and you finally fell asleep.

[saey-bae]

hc: rfa (+saeran) + smol!mc

i’m struggling to find motivation,, so here’s a little thing from me while i try to complete requests !! 💜

check out my masterpost here

[ under the cut bc it got kinda long LOL there’s no jaehee i apologize for jaehee lovers everywhere]

Yoosung:

ok,, but this boi loves the fact that you’re shorter than him by quite a bit

it makes him feel Manly™ when he can reach something you can’t,, and he loves it when you rely on him to do things 

when the two of you move in together, he intentionally buys taller furniture that would have you struggling to reach things on high shelves 

he underestimated how willing you were to clamber up said furniture, and could do nothing but watch in shock when he first saw you scale up a bookshelf in record time

should he really be surprised, though??? one time, he refused to bend down for a kiss and you climbed him like a tree and gave him a peck anyway

he also tends to draw you into his lap all. the. time. when he plays LOLOL bc you fit against his body so perfectly,, and he can cuddle and play games at the same time  

you make cute grumbling sounds whenever he does so, which is also a bonus

but... c’mon,, what’s more perfect than resting his chin on top of your head and having you curled up against him while he goes on raids????

one possible downside to your size is playing hide and seek with you bc you always win

like,, how is he supposed to know that you can fit in the cabinet under the kitchen sink?? or the tiny linen closet?? or the drYER???? omg mc don’t do that again,, what if i turned it on???? 

but that downside is quickly turned into a positive point when you play hide and seek with other people, and the two of you are able to hide together 

except for that time the two of you recruited the rfa to play after a meeting... the seeker found the two of you making out in an uncomfortable position under one of the small tables in the hallway the seeker was seven. he took pictures. he laughed for days.

honestly,, though,,, yoosung has no regrets

Zen:

zen tends to engulf you in hugs from behind and rest his chin on the top of your head simply because he can 

he loves how you feel in his arms?? like a tiny little perfect package that was made for him 

will most definitely do this regardless of where you are and what you’re doing-- if he wants to cuddle his jagiya, that’s what he’s going to do

another bonus when it comes to height is when you wear one of his shirts... and only his shirt

all he can do is stare at the sleeves that are far too long for you, at the hem that brushes over mid-thigh length, at the neckline that rests much lower on your chest than it does on his...

listen,, The Beast™ is coming out, and it’s coming out in full force

and heck,, you know what it does to him-- you do this on purpose

let’s just say you’ve had to sew back on a lot of buttons onto his shirts and you’ve lost more buttons than you can count; they also appear in the most random places like... how did the two of you even manage to get a button stuck under one of the stove burners??

this boi will absolutely kabedon you when given the opportunity (i.e. pin to you the wall and stare at you for an uncomfortably. long. period. of. time.), so you’ve taken to doing weird things to get him to leave you alone

this includes but is not limited to: tickling him, licking his chin (sadly, that’s all you can reach up to), tugging on his ponytail (surprisingly effective), and pushing him away (warning: do not attempt this one, he’ll take it as a sign of aggression and will retaliate)

he’ll more or less carry you in a bridal hold... everywhere 

you want to be carried? cool, just ask and he’ll have you in his arms instantly !! you don’t want to be carried? cool, don’t ask and he’ll have you in his arms instantly !! and his height just makes it impossible for you to refuse so all you can do is beat against his chest weakly in a futile attempt to escape 

it usually doesn’t work 

c’mon he just wants to pamper you while also staking claim over what’s his, but you don’t have to worry about that bit,, why won’t you let him?? 

Jumin:

he acts like your height different doesn’t matter to him --so what? who cares if the top of your head just barely meets his chin??-- but really,, it’s got him w e a k 

honestly,, this man loves cuddling in bed with you bc you’re so small and cute and he just feels such a strong need to Protect™ you 

“jumin, darling,, i can’t breathe” you’d usually mumble into his shoulder bc hey, he’s got his arms and legs wrapped around you tightly in a stranglehold 

“sorry,” he’d usually respond, though he won’t budge

it’s just,,, hnnng,,, he must,,,,, Protect™,,, his tiny beloved kitten

also tends to worry when you do the laundry mc, please, we have maids for a reason because it looks like the washer’s eating you up and you know what, just let me do it, darling, i don’t want to risk having you fall in

honestly, you’re the only one who can make han jumin do his own laundry and that’s pretty damn special in itself

worries a lot when the two of you are walking in public because, despite your short stature, you walk really fast honey, i have tall friends who refuse to slow down for me,, if i can walk this fast so can you and he strUGGLES TO KEEP UP

 is so, so afraid of losing you in a crowd because something could happen,, 

lowkey considered bugging you or using a leash or something for a little while but uh, he wouldn’t,,, actually do it,, y’know?

despite his issues with you walking away from him,, there’s a huge plus to this because you like wearing heels i hate to see you go, but i love to watch you leave to make you taller though you’re still shorter than him in heels?? urG H you can never win

but he secretly loves the fact that you can wear heels and still be shorter than him

anywAY,, you look damn good in heels and jumin has no problem exploiting your love for them

you have well over seventy pairs of heels and counting, and each pair he buys for you is higher than the last bc he’s secretly building you up to the point where you can wear stilettos for... physical activity... purposes

so while you’re looking at kitten heels, he’s browsing through the high heel selection with a tiny smirk because he just saw the perfect pair of black velvet pumps

Seven:

can you say short jokes?? 

ya boi will tell jokes at your expense at any point of the day bc honestly, you have the cUTEST REACTION and he just can’t resist

however, there was this one time zen made a short joke and,, well...

“you should really stop making fun of short people... the jokes go right over their heads”

but seriously,, he’s the only one who’s allowed to make short jokes about you,,, ok?? everyone else can b a c k o f f thanks

he also tends to piggyback you around everywhere ?? it takes little effort on his end,, but yields g r e a t results

he loves carrying you on his back mainly because you’ve fallen asleep on him before and it makes him a little emotional you feel safe enough with him to fall asleep while he’s carrying you?? he’s not tearing up at all

however, there were also a few times he threw you over his shoulder and carried you around like luggage he only really does that when he gets jealous and/or wants your attention 

will 10/10 hold things out of your reach just to make your life a little more difficult, like your car keys

“saeyoung, give those back !! i have an appointment to go to !!” 

“aw babe,, you’re almost tall enough to be taken seriously,,”

calls you his little jetpack bc whenever the two of you cuddle, you prefer being the big spoon again, he isn’t tearing up because his tiny gf wants to protect him nosiree

the two of you tend to fight for the position of the big spoon because he likes protecting you,, too,,, so the two of you grapple for a little while for the position of Big Spoon

well,,,, you grapple and he lets you fight him off for a little while before scooping you in his arms and holding you to his chest

“c’mon, be the bigger person and let me win for once”

“babe, i am the bigger person”

Saeran:

he doesn’t mind your height and will never pit it against you

short people problems? v a m o o s h

if you have trouble reaching something, he’ll reluctantly grab it for you or lift you so you can reach it bc hey he,, also,,, wants to impress you

will absolutely give you a boost if you can’t see in a crowd, but he’ll also do this rather begrudgingly because it’s embarrassing, ok?? but he would never say no to helping you

he’ll walk slower alongside you so you don’t struggle to keep up bc hey,, he does walk pretty fast and he’s gotta be considerate 

can’t find jeans that fit your leg length and waist perfectly,, but you buy them any way bc you gotta wear something? he’s already sent them to the tailor for you, don’t worry about it

if his idiot brother’s making short jokes, he’ll happily give the other redhead a good smack for you, no charge

but he did find it amusing and highkey adorable when you stood on a chair and smacked him yourself “am i short now??”

tall person knocks into you while the two of you are out together and walks away without apologizing?? saeran is a l l over them,, and he makes sure you get some r.e.s.p.e.c.t. 

despite the fact that he doesn’t make a huge deal about your height, sometimes, he’ll make a comment about how cute and tiny you are... and it isn’t because he’s making fun of you-- he genuinely really really loves you a lot and wants to lowkey make sure you don’t feel insecure

a huge plus for him --that he doesn’t tell you about-- is watching you curl up on his chest and sleep soundly, like you haven’t got a worry in the world has stayed up from dusk to dawn before because he wanted to watch you sleep

never did he think that someone would feel safe with him,, given how thin and weak he used to be,, but you’ve always taken to sleeping on top of him 

will struggle to tell you he loves you,, but every little thing he does for you is more than enough of a reminder

[sntjimmy-blog]

Employee Benefits: 4/1/10

Make sure they are not past the expiration date when you take them and therefore may not be effective then. 1. Weights will make you look bulked up. In a disaster, they'll look to you and other adults for help. Housed under the shared jurisdiction of the Office of Economic Development and Colorado Parks & Wildlife, this program will help more Coloradans forge a special connection with our natural resources, further strengthening the Colorado economy. On the flip side, not accepting those with existing health problems and “risky” lifestyles does help to keep costs down. This problem can be serious in some forms of insurance, such as property and liability coverage, but is of less importance in the life and health areas of employee benefits. By taking the burden of administering employee health care off the shoulders of employers, businesses can focus more on their core products and services. Regardless of your present physical condition, there are variety of ways to move more that can be beneficial for diabetes and your health. Those under age 65 and in the individual and family market can choose from traditional plans and health savings accounts. The court could strike down the entire act or rule that the individual mandate is unconstitutional. It should be pointed out that the vendors who provide carve-outs often act as managed care plans for a single medical expense benefit and take on the characteristics of HMOs or PPOs. In addition, managed care plans were holding down premiums while actively increasing enrollments. However, some plans will allow, at an additional cost, a buy-up provision that has no maximum in yearly RX benefits. Indemnity and PPO plans are better in a shorter-term orientation because changes in plan design can be adopted fairly easily without a large disruption to the membership population. In this form of extortion, victims are typically lured into sharing intimate photos or videos, often through online dating sites or social media. Programs are mainly imported series, most of them from the U.S. The y are still comming through the fence from the next door neighbours yard.Which has shed surrounded with debris Tyres, wood leaves etc not to mention the copious amount of dog poop . My problem is not the house (which is thankfully clean, decluttered are free of any rats) but my food garden…I’ve been growing food for many years and never experienced any problem. Does peppermint oil repel rats? Melancholy and self-destructive considerations have been seen in a few people who have taken Ambien. Do I have to record restricted work or job transfer if it applies only to the day on which the injury occurred or the illness began? They just need to send a wire transfer or money order upfront to pay for some equipment or educational materials before they can get started, but these never arrive, and there is no actual job. This is an email telling people that there is a bomb planted in their building and it can disconnected only if a certain fee is paid. If you are a tobacco user, you will be required to join the provisional HealthTrac™ program which adds an additional monthly fee. While Colorado will always continue to evaluate and aggressively pursue bringing emerging technologies like Hyperloop to our state, an economically viable rail option is a promising and attractive alternative to traveling by car. I don't know about you, but 47,700,000 people looks like a lot of folks to me. Them: OK - we know you so we'll do it your way. The hash is a good way for newcomers to meet people and see the country. The traditional way of receiving bills has always been through paper. The expected average usage of the PPO network is 75 percent, online pharmacy so the claims of an average of 750 employees (and their covered dependents) will flow through the network side of the equation. 2. How to build the body of your dreams, step by step, and eliminate the chances of side effects! You can then motivate each other to keep on going. One of the most beautiful features of this jet black substance is that it can be made anywhere on the planet! Still, I am one of the very lucky ones. Some of these pharmacies require prescriptions, while others do not. Back in January after a lot of experimentation I learned that I could achieve near normal blood sugars using Ultralente insulin. Trinidad and Tobago is highly trade dependent, using the foreign exchange earned by its commodity and energy exports to buy consumer goods. 3. Buy less (or even better, buy secondhand). However, when inoculations such as gamma globulin, rabies, etc. are given to treat a specific injury or illness, or in response to workplace exposure, medical treatment has been rendered and the case must be recorded. Taxis are not identified by signs, or by uniform painting, but by the first letter "H" on the license plate. I took my first dosage of 200 mg in the morning, around 8 am. The employer must keep track of the factors contributing to premium increases.

[wigwurq]

WIG REVIEW: AMERICAN CRIME STORY - THE ASSASSINATION OF GIANNI VERSACE

It’s finally here!! After months and months of random set pictures and Entertainment Weekly photoshoots, we can finally bask in the wigs of this true crime nonsense. As with Twin Peaks Return and Stranger Things, I will be updating this entry with weekly wig reviews and adjusting whether the wigs wurq as a whole. Let’s discuss! 

EPISODE ONE

We begin in the quiet morning of July 15, 1997, the day Gianni Versace was murdered. Yes, this show literally starts with a bang. But first, we see Versace going through his normal morning rituals of breakfast with his staff in the gorgeous museum he lives in. Straight up: Edgar Ramirez looks EXACTLY LIKE VERSACE. Granted, he is about a decade younger than Versace was but this wig WURQS. You know I am not a fan of 99.9% of male wigs but this thing is great - excellent texture and seams and no weird flipping out in the back as with most male wigs.

We also get some flashback wigs to the early 90s when Versace met his assassin, Andrew Cunanan (the truth of which I definitely question) but sadly, the internet refuses to give me these younger Versace wigs (which are also good) so please enjoy another Versace in 1997 pic. 

Darren Criss is also excellent, if wigless, as Cunanan. Though he is definitely about 1000% more attractive than the actual Cunanan. Also can this show please explain to me who this rando couple is that he hangs out with? One of the issues with this show is it is hella disorganized about its storytelling (and I actually know a lot about this story - I think someone who doesn’t would be lost) but I guess we have a whole season to find out who the hell Annaleigh Ashford is supposed to be playing. FINE. 

Also excellent (but wigless) is RICKY EFFING MARTIN as Versace’s partner. He spends most of this episode being drenched in blood while having to answer homophobic questions from cops AND then being totally bitch slapped (sadly only metaphorically) by Donatella.

AND THEN THERE’S DONATELLA. Penny Cruz, good lord. The Versace family has already publicly denounced/disowned this TV show but Donatella should be SO EFFING HAPPY that this goddess is playing her. At first glance, this is obviously a terrible wig but let us all remember what Donatella’s hair looks like...

So...actually pretty accurate.

The seamwork is a little iffy but I’m still going to give this wig a pass since the color and texture are spot on as is Penny Cruz’s performance.

EPISODE TWO

I see what they’re doing here: rather than going ALLLL the way back to the beginning, we’re just going back episode by episode until we finally get why Cunanan did what he did...I think? I dunno. Anyway, in this episode we travel back to 1994 when Versace was diagnosed with some mystery disease (mmmmmhmmm) which wikipedia will have you believe was ear cancer...

We also get Penny Cruz in a flashback wig WITH BANGS and learn that she was always a dick to Ricky Martin. BOO!

Meanwhile, in the not-so-distant past (of 1997), Cunanan has arrived in Miami with full Laura Branigan underscoring to recreate select scenes from Staying Alive with some shady old dudes he finds on the beach. He also gets propositioned to start a beachside florist business with a cocaine addict.  Seems legit!

Also despite being one of the FBI’s Most Wanted, a severe paper shortage (and/or some patriarchal bureaucracy) has lead to 0% FBI flyers with Cunanan’s picture on it to be made MUCH TO THE CHAGRIN of Daya from OITNB. TRUST DAYA, random dude from Mad Men! UGH.

Oh, and Ricky Martin and Edgar Ramirez are totally in LURVE. Aw. 

EPISODE THREE

This episode didn’t involve one goddamned Versace and was essentially an hour long “for your consideration” episode for Judith Light getting an Emmy FINALLY. PLEASE? The fact that Judith Light has never won an Emmy is a whole other issue but I’m hoping this episode will fix that. 

As this show moves slowly back in time, we begin in May 1997 when Chicago real estate mogul Lee Migler was murdered by Cunanan. Judith Light plays Marilyn Migler, the “queen of perfume” and straight up queen of my heart. She also wears the only wig in the episode. 

Yes, this wig is your average ‘90s power ‘do and the texture is all over the place but it is not a far cry from how the real Marilyn Miglin’s hair looked and might actually be an upgrade? Everything Judith Light does is an upgrade. 

In general, this is a really upsetting episode and showcases how many mistakes were made that led to Cunanan murdering more people (don’t tell the murderer that you are tracking him via his fancy car phone, for instance?!) but Judith Light’s subtle blonde waves and fake fingernail tappings were everything. 

EPISODE FOUR

Okay this show is officially really upsetting. And I already knew this upsetting story fairly well to begin with. UGH.

This is the second week without a Donatella wig (which is upsetting enough!) but this episode is all about how Cunanan murdered his first victim, and then, after a week of Stockholm Syndrome that could rival Beauty and the Beast, his second. We’re still moving back ever so slightly in the timeline so the whole Versace story (which IS in the title...) is really just becoming the Cunanan show. 

And wigless though he is (there are actually no wigs in this episode!) Darren Criss is definitely a revelation: he is both sinister, charming, ridiculous, and heartbreaking at the same time. Gurlfriend wants that Emmy, henny. 

This dude who plays David is also really good and his haircut/blonde highlights definitely give me bad high school flashbacks.

Not for nothing, Aimee Mann is in this episode singing a Cars cover in a midwestern roadhouse while David tries and fails to escape from Cunanan through a bathroom window. And yes: that sentence was PEAK Ryan Murphy. 

EPISODE FIVE

VERSACE IS BACK! Thank god. The last few episodes have been hella depressing (don’t worry - this one is too!) but at least we get some fabulous wigs from the Versace family. This episode is mainly in 1995 and is all about coming out of the closet! Which was actually not that fun back in 1995 despite being the same year that cinematic gay masterpiece Too Wong Foo Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar! came out. I think everyone in this episode just needed a hug from Miss Vida Boheme.

Anyway, Penny Cruz and her fabulous BANGS as Donatella are none too pleased about Gianni wanting to come out, though she tells him it’s not because she hates his partner Antonio (it’s totally why) but because she thinks it’ll damage the business. Because we all know how much people have historically hated gay fashion designers (eyeroll emoji). UGH DONATELLA.

Anyway, Gianni tells Donatella to STFU and goes ahead with a splashy Advocate spread (that’s how you do it, gurl!) which makes Ricky Martin really happy and it’s nice though ultimately super depressing since this real-life happiness was obvs shortlived. But regardless: Gianni’s wig still wurqs.

Elsewhere in wigless storylines, we learn all about Cunanan’s first murder victim, Jeff Trail, and his decidedly NOT splashy coming out story as a member of the US Navy during the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell years. This episode has the kitchen sink of upsetting things: hate crimes, suicidal thoughts, anti-gay comic books, self-inflicted tattoo-removing wounds, sad gay bar scenes, and finally finding who you think is your gay ally.... who then ends up murdering you a couple years later. Cheers! Sobbing.

This episode leads us right up to where we started in the last episode....with Cunanan murdering Trail. But not before stealing his gun.....dun dun dun.

EPISODE SIX

We begin this episode in the lap of luxury and also with Darren Criss’s lap as he skinnydips his way around Michael Nouri (OF FLASHDANCE FAME)’s La Jolla estate. At this point (in 1996), Cunanan is a rent boy (who barely puts out - good deal!) for Nouri’s older millionaire character.  

Anyway, Nouri is throwing Cunanan a birthday party and invited all his friends over, plus a few of Cunanan’s friends and we get the return of his rando galpal played by Annaleigh Ashford. Despite being described as his best friend, gurlfriend straight up asks Cunanan if he is 100% gay now. GURL HE IS LIVING WITH AN OLD MAN AS A RENT BOY. DO THE MATH.

Basically the whole party turns into a lie-filled ruse to impress Cunanan’s ain’ true love, David, who is far more interested in talking to Jeff. Oh, also Lee Miglin shows up which I found highly dubious but regardless: Ryan Murphy presented us with 3/5 murder victims at this bday party. What a fete!

Jeff and David clearly were starting to see through Cunanan’s veneer, but no one had his number like Nouri’s queen on the scene friend (played by SNL alum Terry Sweeney) who READ CUNANAN FOR FILTH. The library was open!

Sufficed to say, it wasn’t the best party. Still: Nouri offered to keep Cunanan on as his rent boy but of course, Cunanan got greedy and asked for a bunch more perks (including but not limited to being Nouri’s sole heir...)....so it was byeeeeeeeee to the La Jolla lifestyle and HELLO to a really depressing studio apartment.

Of course, this in no way stops Cunanan from continuing to do his favorite thing: lying and spending money he doesn’t have! Despite a lavish weekend in LA, David made it clear that he was not THE ONE which sent Cunanan into a crystal-fueled drug sequence (UGH RYAN MURPHY) which offered us the only glimpse this week of Gianni’s fabulous wig. And the only wig of the week! Bring back the wigs!

In the end, Cunanan ends up broke and desperate at his mom’s ultra-depressing apartment and we get a glimpse of where he got his crazy genes. Mama did NOT wanna hear about her goldenboy having any issues so...it was byeee and off to Minneapolis (which for the record does actually have an opera house if you were wondering...)

EPISODE SEVEN

So this episode involved a LOT of Donatella wig action and I am here for it. Circa mid-90s Donatella is busy at work NOT designing the dresses she’s supposed to design and instead telling actual designers to read her mind and design the dresses she’d like to design. Since the only one with a glass ball into Donatella’s noggin is Gianni hisself, he steps in to show a bitch how it’s DONE.

The two collaborate and by “collaborate” I mean Penny Cruz stood around while a belt was placed around her neck and BOOM - the Versace belt dress is created! Somehow? 

We are gifted with this rando storyline because Versace is suffering from a bout of ear cancer and is priming Donatella to take over the company JUST IN CASE which obvs foretells when she actually has to take over the company a few years later. But mostly it just shows Penny Cruz in a pretty good wig wondering if she’s pretty enough to model a dress, which by all accounts is peak nonsense. 

Spoiler: she wears the dress and it is a big hit! Well, with fashion critics anyway but apparently not with the buying public (which we’re left just to assume they work out since this dress ended up being a hit?) Basically, this storyline is kind of a waste of time other than the fact that we are gifted with Donatella’s LEWK above which is everything the 90s loved in hair - bangs, wisps, Elaine Benes updo poof, and chunky hair clip. WURQ!

Things are decidedly less glamorous (and less wiggy) over in Cunanan’s storyline. He’s working at a pharmacy where they won’t even let him spend his downtime reading Vogue magazines. RUDE! Even ruder: his mom buys LOW COST ICE CREAM which does not befit his fancy schmancy pharmacy ways. SUPER RUDE! So to fuel his high-cost ice cream needs (I assume?) he tries to get a job at a prominent (?) male escort company but doesn’t make the cut because gay men who get escorts apparently don’t want Asians (?!?!?!?!)

So Andy of course takes matters into his own tentacles and becomes his own damn pimp! He achieves his high class hooker status pretty easily: he randomly looks through some newspapers to identify rich gays, buys some opera tickets, conveniently meets a rich gay man, becomes his house boy, witnesses his murder, convinces the victim’s friend to move from Arizona to La Jolla and buy a needlessly expensive house and become HIS house boy. EASY! 

Whilst out celebrating his (secret) high class hooker status, he meets his ain’ true love (and 2nd murder victim): David! They spend a romantic (?) night together at a fancy hotel which seems to be Andy’s only time with a dude his own age and David charms him with a story about telling some rando chick he’s gonna build her a house (which Andy conveniently retells as his own story to his rich gay dude). What a tangled web!

EPISODE EIGHT

We begin this episode in 1950s Italy. Sure! There, a young Gianni Versace sketches dresses and sucks at school, and everyone speaks English for some reason (seriously, Ryan Murphy - you couldn’t have these actors speak Italian with subtitles? True weirdness). Anyway, he loves making dresses which is also what his mom does and in a true forward-thinking twist, this old-school Catholic Italian mama seems to not mind that her son wants to follow in her dress-making ways. Ok?

Over to 1980s San Diego, things are decidedly less accepting and 1000% weirder. We finally meet Andrew Cunanan’s dad, Modesto. He is a true psychopath who moves his family to a fancy new house, inexplicably gives young Andy the master suite (but retains ownership of the closet - metaphor much?) leaving him and the missus (who he abuses physically and mentally) to have a tiny bedroom and his 3 other kids who he treats like garbage into what appears to be a pantry with bunk beds. Everyone accepts this behavior somehow because he’s a complete lunatic monster who would probably murder them at any moment. Like father like son, eh?

Anyway, we get to see Andy’s high school days at a private school in La Jolla (this school is also my husband’s alma mater if you seriously want the library to be open....). At said school, Andy is gay bashed but also unabashedly takes his shirt off and showboats at school keggers in full Michael Jackson cosplay so I guess it wasn’t all bad? 

Oh but you know what is bad? When your already awful dad steals a lot of money from old ladies and then flees the feds AND the country leaving you and your mom (and your 3 unaccounted for garbage siblings) completely penniless and you have to fly to Manila just to see for yourself if your father is terrible and then he’s even MORE terrible and you give yourself a really bad hand wound and have to go home and get a job at a crappy pharmacy. Pretty bad! Which is not to say that this is bad enough to make you later kill 5 people because there’s still no excuse for that. 

EPISODE NINE

We’ve finally come to the end, and what a long strange trip it’s been! After moving backward in Cunanan’s narrative every week and, frankly, making him far too sympathetic a character for someone who murdered five people, we end as we began: with Cunanan murdering Versace. But this time we move forward instead of backward - to Cunanan’s final, pitiful days. 

Immediately after murdering Versace, Cunanan hottailed it to a conveniently abandoned houseboat. We are not told how he discovered this houseboat, or how its closet magically has clothes that fit him and its refrigerator has champagne that pops for emphasis at exactly the right time because Ryan Murphy isn’t interested in such trivialities when he can focus on how many TVs it has (3! so go ahead and shoot one!) and how many Cunanan ghosts are in the bedroom (1! well, 2 if you count Cunanan after he kills himself...) Indeed, after being found out by the caretaker of said boat and running out of dogfood to eat, and quite literally being smoked out by police, Cunanan, as we all know, shot hisself. Though not before seeing a lot of footage of hisself on TV, being doublecrossed by his father again, and ultimately giving hisself a really butch makeover (at which point my eyes absolutely rolled out of my head into the water). They rolled back long enough to see yet ANOTHER totally made up scene of Cunanan and Versace at the Opera and then they fell out again. Yes, Ryan Murphy wants us to sympathize with this monster but let’s not shall we?

Instead, let’s focus on the triumphant return of JUDITH LIGHT! YAYYYSS KWEEN! As Marilyn Miglin, wife of Cunanan’s 3rd victim, she, like the rest of America, rightly wants to know why the effff the FBI hasn’t found Cunanan yet and just WANTS THIS TO BE OVER SO SHE CAN SELL HER DAMN PERFUME, MMMMKAY? Bitch has priorities, and I’m here for them. I will say that this show does rightly shed a light on how much authorities really effed up this case - from revealing that they were tracking Cunanan through Miglin’s car, leading him to ditch it and murder a rando caretaker with a special needs son for his truck (SOB) to not listening to Daya and refusing to print enough WANTED posters in Miami, not realizing that Cunanan used his own name to sell one of Miglin’s coins at a pawn shop and essentially not stopping him before he killed Versace. Anyway, Judith and her perfect  woman-of-a-certain-age 90s wig is serving PERFECTION and had better be remembered come Emmy award season.

Also Daya from OITNB was back (yes I already used this picture - this is literally the only picture available of her in this show). Anyway, she interviewed Ronnie (OH RONNIE!) about Cunanan and made sure he knew that she knew about those 2 gay clubs in Miami. Ronnie was NOT HERE FOR IT and had prepared a lengthy monologue about 1990s attitudes toward gay society which essentially shut down the entire FBI for a full day I think.

Speaking of shutdowns, somewhere in Milan, Penny Cruz as Donatella in a flawless blonde wig was getting ready for Versace’s funeral but not before throwing some extra shade at Ricky Martin (seriously most of this show was about everyone being such a dick to Ricky Martin!) She told him that no, he couldn’t go live in Versace’s Lake Como house, because, uh, the Versace board wasn’t on board with it? Ricky Martin then got some more shade from a rando priest at the funeral and then took a bunch of pills and wine and was found half-dead by a maid and we’re led to believe he also died. Which is pretty messed up since this dude is actually still alive and I’d like to believe he spent the last 20 years playing bocci with George Clooney.

Anyway, in Donatella’s final reveal, she tells her husband (who, like most dayplayers on this show is essentially just furniture) that on the day Versace died....SHE DIDN’T TAKE HIS PHONECALL! DUN DUN DUN! I guess this is supposed to be some big surprise but honestly, this isn’t even as cold as every single thing she has done on this show to Ricky Martin. She then takes her flawlessly flatironed wig to the Versace mausoleum where she looks into the Versace logo and I swear to god for a second turns into Medusa. FAIR. And...then we see Cunanan’s crypt in a long anonymous hallway and then the whole thing feels like the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark which kind of makes sense since Cunanan, like the lost ark, is full of haunted ghosts and violence but...what the hell Ryan Murphy?!?! THE END!

VERDICT: WURQS!

[christinegphillips]

How To Stay Motivated When You Feel Like Giving Up

“How to stay motivated” is the topic for today and boy there is no better time to talk about how to motivate yourself when we are in the middle of a Global Pandemic and half the Worlds population are working from home. Some lives and businesses are falling apart, kids are not at school driving parents crazy. So just how do you motivate yourself when there is absolutely nothing to look forward to?

In this post I am going to talk about the different scenario’s of when you might need to motivate yourself to do more, then I am going to offer some general tips from my life on how to stay motivated. It isn’t easy and even I have dropped a few times during this pandemic but you know what, when you see what you have to gain over what you have to lose by staying motivated it will all start to make sense.

How to stay motivated – Photo by Drew Beamer on Unsplash

Some of the motivational factors in life revolve around believing in your journey and yourself. You see if you have a goal to achieve then it is so much easier to bring motivation back into your life. Having a true meaning and purpose in life will definitely help you to stay motivated along the way. This is mainly because you will have something to aim for and you can record your success along the way.

Life is about being valued, receiving recognition and obtaining rewards, none of us want to walk through life thinking we are worthless or we hate our lives. What we want is to live a happy and content life that we can look back on and be proud of and say darn it I had a great time life. That is where the self motivation aspects come in, because no one else can do this for you, you have to do it for yourself.

Scenario’s Where You Might Have To Motivate Yourself

At home – This can be difficult to stay motivated because you will be tempted to watch the tv or flicky flack through your phone or computer and before you know it the day has been wasted. This comes down to setting yourself goals at home and writing down your jobs for the day. Everyone needs a routine and if you are just laying about then that will become a habit and motivating yourself will just get harder and harder. You might have seen this during the current pandemic as the kids know they haven’t got school for 6mths, so the boys are staying up at night and sleeping all day gaming and the girls are slowly losing motivation also. You have to set yourself jobs to do and then when you finish them you can sit down and relax. So set the goal, work hard completing them, see what a great job you have done, reward yourself for your hard work and be proud of what you have done. Then chill out and know that you have achieved something.

At school or Uni – You really do need to be properly self motivated to get through this but hopefully you have been sensible enough to choose subjects that you enjoy and are at least interested in. Yes it can be boring at times, but so is life sometimes and still at school and Uni you have to have the attitude that this is just a step towards your future you. Have an idea of what you want in life and use school or Uni as the learning curve to get to where you want to be in life in the future. Not planning your future now will only leave you in trouble at a later date, because you will wonder aimlessly through life and will miss out on living the dream life you can have if you want it badly enough.

During exercise and at the gym – You are going to be dealing with the can’t be bothered syndrome here more than likely. Those little voices in your head that tell you that you don’t feel like doing exercise or going the gym. The sensible voices however will tell you how great you are going to feel once you have finished the exercise. Fitness is really important and if you look after the body the mind will look after itself. The best thing to do here is do exercise that you enjoy, so join a class or a sport and just learn how not to question yourself about whether you want to go or not, just go and when those thoughts come into your mind, push them out and say no I am going because it is going to make me feel great. Once you are into a proper routine on this then self motivation will be less of an issue and you will just get on with it.

Before Exams – We all hate exams but this is just temporary and everything you do in life will need some sort of motivation to stay focused on something for short periods of time. Exams are no different, put in the work and you will get the rewards for it. Don’t put in the work and you will regret it later which is not the best way to do things if you want to live a content lifestyle. The best thing you can do it put a timetable together, treat it like you would a job and allocate time slots of which subjects to study, put lots of breaks in there and have a reward afterwards for when you finish. If you feel as if you are not taking anything in then it is time for a break. You will be much happier doing things this way as you will not feel anxious when you do the exams or waiting for the results afterwards either. So give yourself a kick up the bum and get focused.

At work – Work can be boring and if you are saying you hate your job or you are not interested in it. Then there are only two things you can do, change it and look for another one or make things better at work. Go and ask your boss for more to do, more responsibility and things that might challenge you. This will work wonders because if you look after your boss then the likely hood will be that you will be the one who will get all the pay rises and rewards for it to. Put in the work and make your day as filled as you can to pass the time quickly. This involved being proactive and not sitting there getting bored all day.

Cleaning – It is always a ball ache for most people this one but don’t you feel proud when you look and see how great everything looks when you have finished cleaning. The sparkly bathroom and kitchen, the car. Yep you know afterwards you are going to be rewarded for your hard work so just bang some great music on and do it when you have free time or just schedule cleaning time each week so you have a routine you need to stick too and go from there.

Sticking to a diet and healthy eating for weight loss – If diets and weight loss were easy then we would all be thing right? This is the hardest one because you really do need to learn how to stay motivated because if you don’t you will just pack it in. So lower your expectations in the first place, don’t say you want to lose 10 stone in a month because that is just no practical and it won’t happen. Don’t expect to get straight back in the gym and beast yourself thinking that will do it, it won’t you will be aching that much it will put you off. So set yourself sensible goals, exercise to the level of your ability until the weight starts to come off and you will have the motivation to do more. Sometimes you don’t have to lose the weight either, you just need to change your shape. In regards to dieting it is easy less calories in compared to calories you are burning and you will lose weight. So eat smaller portions and more of it throughout the day to increase your metabolism. The important thing here is to manifest in your mind what the ideal you will look like. See yourself in the mirror two sizes smaller and know also that when you conquer this one you will feel amazing. I lost 5 stone in 2 months and I train 3 times a day because it keeps anxiety at bay, I can eat what I want and it easy for me stay concentrated on the things I need to get done.

During Tough times – This is a real difficult one because your motivation will be up and down during these times and you will find it hard to say consistent. One day you will feel you have loads of motivation and other days you will feel you have none. The important things again here is to spend some time envisioning your life getting better and what it will look like when the tough times are over. The law of attraction is a real phenomenon that you can use to help you through these times. I have used it several times when I have been made redundant, been out of work, been single and thinking your life will get better then setting some goals and a plan of how you can achieve it and then staying motivated to get it will help you considerably. The more you sit there and think oh shit life is going down the toilet the more it will. This is what they call like attracts like in the universal laws. So always try and stay positive where and when you can.

During periods of Unemployment – You have to believe that everything does happen for a reason in life. So if you don’t get the job you applied for then know and believe that a better one is around the corner. Keep applying and adjust your cv to different jobs and show your achievement rather than just what you have done. Contact recruiters in linkedin, get job listings on the job boards and just stay positive and keep moving forward. Don’t take rejection personally and just move on as quick as you can because when you stay focused and you can see what the ideal job will look like it will come to you and at the right time too.

After failing at something – The way I deal with this is I expect to fail at things but does it stop me from doing things? Absolutely not, we are going to fail in life, the good thing is we are trying and the more you fail at something the more lessons you will learn and the better you will get at it. Don’t be put off by people ridiculing you along the way, people are evil some times and you shouldn’t let anyone put you off your dreams, this is your life live it and stay motivated in your own mind and don’t let others stop you. Keep going and going and eventually you will get there. Just don’t give up when you could be so close to success.

Getting out of debt – We have all been there and taken on too much debt and the only thing you can do here is learn by your mistakes. When this has happened to me in the past my motivation has been around paying it off as quickly as possible which meant, moving money around to 0% interest, not going out and paying off as much as I can all the time. Just make sure you do not miss any payments and dust of your cv and look for other jobs that will pay more. See what you can cut back on and get them out of the way. By following the above I now have a credit rating of 999 and get loans and interest payment so low it is unreal. So don’t panic, sit down in clarity and work out how you can get rid of those debts as quickly as possible and put a plan together on how you can do it and follow it.

My Top Tips On How To Stay Motivated

Live life – Life really is what you make of it. The only thing that is stopping you from getting there is yourself and your own motivation to follow things through. If I told you that if you ran 10 miles I would give you a ferrari for doing it, what would you do? Yep I bet you said you would do it, so for everything that you want in your life go and get it. There is absolutely nothing stopping you apart from your own self doubt on what you think you can achieve in life.

Stop the excuses – Excuses are the biggest cause and lack of motivation because we will always put barriers up as to why we can’t do something. I will do it when, or I can’t yet. You have to stop this way of thinking, see what you want, feel it and taste it and then got off your bum and go and get it. It doesn’t matter if you fail, if you keep going you will get there you just have to believe in the journey you are taking is going to be worth it.

Believe you can do anything – Life is amazing when you make the decision to take it by the balls and do whatever you want to in life. When you stop being controlled by those negative thoughts and just run towards your dreams. You can achieve anything you want to if you want it badly enough. The art here is having enough motivation to actually go and get it.

Always follow a plan – You are not going to be motivated by anything if you feel that you are not getting anywhere near towards your goals. So you have to monitor the actions you have taken to get there and the achievements you have made along the way. Unless you can see progress you do not have the right to quit or make excuses. Like with babies that start walking, yes the will fall over, some will walk quicker than others but they all learn to walk. So set yourself a plan of what you want and measure it along the way.

Control your thoughts – You are going to have loads of thoughts along the way that you cannot do this and your motivation will suffer as a result. Stay on top of your thoughts, they are your thoughts, it is your mind and you control it. Rather than letting negative things come in just go nah I don’t care what you say I am going to do this and I am going to what I want out of life. Adopt the eye of the tiger approach, grit your teeth and just keep moving forward.

Do it now – Don’t put things off, if you want to live a motivated lifestyle, when things need doing just do them. Stop the, I’ll do it in a minute, see the benefits of what you are doing and reap the rewards. Doing things straight away allows you more time to get other things done and stops the anxiety of putting things off.

Gratitude – Be thankful and grateful for the journey you have taken. There is no point doing anything unless you are happy with what you have done in the first place. So always be grateful for the things that you have managed to achieve and give yourself a big pat on the back for coming this far in your journey.

Happiness – Do things that make you happy and more of it. Your motivation will go through the roof if you do things that make you happy. Happiness is a choice and massively effects your relationships with yourself and your family and partner. If they see you have the motivation to succeed and you are doing anything to get there, you will find a new and unfound appreciation of yourself that you didn’t know existed. So find your passion and use that to drive your new found appreciation forwards.

So there you have it they are all my thoughts on how to stay motivated and enjoy life. Yes I know it sounds easier than it is and I have had some real down days in my life that have brought me down but I refuse to give up and give in.

That is why I also put together my transformation program at https://changeyourlifeforever.co.uk and it will help you to get motivated, to be kind, to give love freely, to get over that anxiety, to see life for what it is and what you want it to be. So make sure you sign up and I will send you daily videos for inspiration to help you through your journey in life too.

In the meantime have a great day and I’ll catch you soon Scott

How To Stay Motivated When You Feel Like Giving Up published first on https://changeurlifeforever.blogspot.com/