#props if you noticed the lyric quote from one of the songs in the first movie

[thewhumpcaretaker]

i yearn to see johns backstory some day. to see the pain and hurt as it happens where he hasn’t yet built up his walls. maybe i just love to torture these men but god damn. i love the idea of young john wick and his complexity.

Overall, I think he started off very innocent and desperate to please his guardian, as children usually are. He tried to follow orders and to earn as much of the Ruska Roma's respect as possible.

As a teenager and young man, he lost that innocence and wasn't so different from Iosef - only much more disciplined. He started to enjoy killing and to enjoy being the best at his trade, or at least he told himself that he did. In reality, he was taking out his anger about his stolen childhood.

It wasn't long before that left him feeling empty and his innocence re-emerged as strong remorse.

Below the cut, there's a snippet about child Jardani from my abandoned fic, The Broken Veil. I had a lot of flashbacks in mind, to various points in his upbringing. Maybe I'll write more of them at some point.

TW: animal death, physical and verbal child abuse

“Choke him, Jardani. Until he’s dead.”

The little boy refused to let his voice break. “I don’t want to.” He was about ten, though he doesn’t remember exactly now.

The Director repeated his words, tutting. “You don’t want to. Tsk.” She had placed a viper in the cage with his pet pigeon. He grabbed him quickly enough, and clutched him just below the base of the skull between his fingers. But he was being trained as an assassin, and assassins do not just grab their prey to hold it firmly by the base of the skull. “Then let him go back in the cage.”

“I would like…to put him outside.”

She laughed uproariously. “That’s not one of the options I’m giving you. Sometimes, life doesn’t give you any options you like, boy. Kill him, or let him go back in the cage and eat his fill.”

He could feel the snake’s strangely malleable throat thrumming against his flesh as he turned his head and flicked his tongue, desperate to escape. Jardani hesitated.

“Too late.” The Director smacked his wrist, hard, forcing his fingers to splay open. The viper fell back to the floor of the birdcage, momentarily stunned. She closed it and dragged him away, his arms twisted together behind his back in a single one of her hands. “Stand still and watch.” He let his body go slack and she released him. The viper, rapidly recovering its strength, sprung forward and sunk fangs into the fluffy white breast that Jardani had so often cradled to his cheek. Red, seeping from the wound. Her body, thrashing as if in seizure. And The Director, standing above him.

In a moment of blind rage, he lunged at her throat. He was already well trained enough to make contact with her collarbone before she flipped him to the ground. Panting above him, she praised his outburst. “Good. You’ll do so well in this world.”

“I loved that bird,” he grunted from underneath her shoulder, seething. “She was my friend.”

“Love? I’ll tell you what love is. Love is a stranger’s body hitting the floor. We kill strangers so we don’t have to kill the ones we love. If you love anything in this world, kill the first thing that tries to take it from you. An enemy, a bystander, even someone you are sworn to. It doesn’t matter. Kill, without hesitation. That is love. If you loved her, that’s what you would have done.”

[blueathens]

Song 1: Here’s To Our Broken Hearts

-Unrequited Love Series-

                               CHAPTER 12

A/N: So this chapter is different in the fact that it tells the story of what the song is talking about...and the lines in bold are the some of the ‘lyrics�� of the song I creatively created. The lyrics aren’t following one another it’s just some main lines that would have been sang - don’t know if any of that makes sense but I hope it does :)

Song: Out Of Love by Alessia Cara Quote: “...But you never said it back.”

Masterlist//Dusk Till Dawn Masterlist//Agape Masterlist

One of the three that were now in the home of the receiver of Mason’s gift slide the mixtape into the rectangular box in the side of their record player – it was something he was waiting to do for ages, but he had to wait for the other two to come down to his – and rushed back to his seat as they all just stared at the music player in front of them, waiting for it to emit noise.

And at last it did, a quiet melody of a piano filled the quiet house before a voice spoke, a quiet yet soft voice spoke before they began to sing the first number.

And the words they spoke before the song officially started was:

“I told you I loved you once...”

                2020 – Before Any Deal

The night started with friends around a table, laughing and smiling as each tells different stories in different conversations. But for Y/n she wasn’t listening one bit, she was looking at the girl next to Mason, his girlfriend Alex Smith, or for Y/n, Ben, and Dec they call her Little Miss Scarlett as they never saw here in anything but red.

I still remember Little Miss Scarlett

She was clinging onto him, digging those red nails into his bicep that flexed under the white shirt, the sleeves were rolled up and to Y/n he was looking perfect under the restaurant dim lights and the candle flickering in front of him.

I couldn’t complain though, he was right there

Y/n boyfriend, Dan, was sitting next to her and Y/n wasn’t dumb to notice the way his eyes flickered to Alex’s exposed cleavage, ogling at the way her breast were pushed up and together. Y/n didn’t care though…it wasn’t the first-time things like this happened and it won’t be the last. Y/n was used to being seen as the second choice in these things or not even a choice at times. She was used to her previous boyfriends wanting her to be like other girls, she was used to them wanting more from her, using her in ways they want, it was never her choice anymore.

And for once she wanted to be someone first choice…she wanted to be loved.

Maybe if I spoke though, I would be by your side then

Y/n watched how Mason’s lips brushed the shell of her ear, whispering something that made her laugh, showing off her perfect teeth behind those red lips of hers.

But Y/n’s eyes didn’t stay on her for long – unlike Dan’s – no her eyes were fixed on Mason. Watching how he fiddled with the third top button of his shirt – the other two were already undone and Alex defiantly loved it as she slide her hand and rubbed the top of his chest – she watched how his tongue went over his bottom lip as he listened to a conversation next to him.

Alex placed her elbows onto the table, propping her up so she could thread her fingers together so she could rest her chin onto them.

“So, Y/n,” the words were spoken so bitterly, and all Y/n could do was nod and smile as she waited for Alex to continue.

You just sat there and let her speak to me with words of venom, but you didn’t care as you watched me drown in poison.

“Its kind of sad that you’re wearing a dress,” she smiled, “jeans and a top is kind of a…male thing.” She giggled sickly. “And girls were makeup and all.”

“I’m not one for that,” Y/n told her kindly, when really the deadly words were eating her alive.

“Clearly,” Alex looked her up and down in such a dirty way that Y/n just wanted to curl into some blankets and hide forever.

Friends huh?

What a fucking lie that was

“And I heard about all those men that been chasing you up,” Alex continued, and Y/n begged the world to just swallow her up now she never had to hear all the words she has been saying to her all night, and Mason, who was listening to all of it, didn’t stop it. “Kind of a playgirl are we?”

“They were rumours.”  Y/n truthfully told her.

“Sure,” She wickedly smiled. “Probably took them to bed and all.”

“Hey,” Ben interrupted as he finally heard the conversation that’s been happening at the end of the table. “Shut the fuck up,”

“Ben.” Mason glared as he clicked his tongue to the root of his mouth, glaring at one of his best mate who raised his brows questionably back.

“Mason,” Ben blinked, “your just gonna sit there and allowing Alex to say things to Y/n?”

Mason shrugged as he brought his drink to his lips.

“What a dick.”

Y/n raised from her seat, Ben eyes following her movements and Alex smirked as she too noticed Y/n about to leave.

If I told you maybe you would have saved me

“Where you going babe,” Alex snarled. “Finding someone else to fuc-”

“Will you just fuck off already?” Ben growled and Mason rolled his eyes, but those eyes watched how Y/n left the restaurant and Mason stood quickly, leaning over the table to reach for her bag and jacket and left to follow her.

It was dark outside the restaurant and like usual England, it was raining. The rain from the heavy clouds above them were falling down upon them.

It was like one of those cliché scenes.

But I told you those words

I told you the words of love

I told ya, I told ya, I told ya, I told ya, I told ya

“Y/n!”

She didn’t stop walking.

“Y/n!”

She continued to walk through the rain.

“You forgot your coat and bag!”

Y/n stopped because she did in fact need her purse.

She turned around and Mason jogged to stand in front of the unimpressed girl.

“What got you so annoyed?” Mason smiled brightly as he held Y/n coat out for her as she took her bag out of his hands.

Y/n wanted to slap him right there and then, but her heart screamed at her not to. Her heart was too crazily in love with him that she couldn’t do anything. Her mind told her she wasn’t in love with him and that he was just a complete dickhead, but her heart told her that she was in love with Mason.

And at the moment she was listening to her heart as it spoke louder than her fuzzy mind.

The way her heart yelled to her like rough waves hitting amongst rocks with the poets shouting on the cliffsides about their true loves with their dying breaths.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” Y/n reassured him, snatching her coat out of his hands, and throwing it over her arm before crossing her arms over her chest.

Mason laughed nervously as his hand went through his wet hair.

“I know when my best friend is lyin-”

“Are we really best friends?” She snapped making Mason stepped back slightly, blinking and staring at her as if she was alien.

I told you out in the pouring rain

And you left me standing in the freezing rain

You left me crying in the pouring rain

And yet I never loved you more

“I don’t understand.” Mason awkwardly laughed. “You know your my best friend and-”

“Then why didn’t stop her?” Tears pricked the young woman’s eyes as she stared at the man before her. “You just sat their smiling and allowing her to say all of that rubbish to me!”

“Exactly it’s rubbish!”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt!” Y/n hand went to her chest, knees bending slightly as her face dropped as she emphasised the pain. The pain of drowning in venomous words. The pain of feeling those word scratch her mind with those long sharp nails of theirs, dragging a long cut across her mind and her feelings, watching how she just falls through the gaps with no one to help.

Expect for Ben.

But she thought Mason would…it doesn’t matter…even though he sat there and did nothing Y/n’s heart still beat for him.

And him only.

And I guess that’s the sad moral of the story for someone who grew with such toxicity, they can never see when they deserve more.

Mason is her forever, we all know that.

But that day he wasn’t for her, he was the voice in her mind, he didn’t fight her side.

He knew she was nice and wouldn’t be rude to his girlfriend. But why didn’t Mason step up and stop Alex?

Maybe Y/n mind was right. Mason did in fact not love her and it was all unrequited.

“I don’t like seeing you with Alex either.” She told him quietly.

Y/n also didn’t like the fact of how Mason was always on her mind. If she was on the bus listening to music he would be there, with that ‘god-awful’ smile and that hair of his, he would just be in her mind, and she may say it was horrible but truly her heart fluttered at every thought of him. Her mind would go back to that one time they talked about moving to the countryside together – as friends – and Mason told her she could have as many animals as her heart desires.

“What?”

“I don’t like you with her because I love you.” Her voice broke into million shards of glass…something that Mason wasn’t going to repair. “I-I don’t really know what love is actually…but what I feel for you…I know it’s something.”

You told me out in the pouring rain

And I left you watching the freezing rain

I left you crying with the pouring rain

And yet you never loved me more

“Oh.”

That was all Mason said and Y/n knew that he didn’t love her the way she loved him.

That it was time to shield her heart up with concrete wall and never let another soul in for the man it beats for just shut it down with one singular word.

She watched how he left her standing in the pouring rain, crying.

And yet her heart continued to crave for him and him only.

But all she could do was walk back to her car and leave like nothing happened.

Like she didn’t just leave her heart in a carpark.

So here’s to our broken hearts.

                                   2023

“...But you never said it back.”

Everything went silent as the next song came along in a few seconds. It was a traditional Y/n thing to do for her songs so people can catch their emotions within those seconds before the next theme of song comes along.

“Did she just-”

“Yep.” Dec interrupted Ben as he waited for the next song to play. His eyes were fully open whilst rivers streamed out of them with the other two people.

“Mason was a-”

“Dick? Yeah.”

“She’s always loved him...” A Scottish voice announced. “But they just keep on missing one another.”

A/N: Oof- this was such a short and bad chapter...sorry

                                   𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 ◁ II ��� 𝑁𝑒𝑥𝑡

[taetaespeaches]

"You just want to get back to your Zuko fan fiction.”

yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 3.2K

a/n: Well, in true Liv fashion, this was supposed to be like 1K words and here we are. But like, I kinda actually like this one?? It’s just pure fucking fluff y’all, Yoon and Kid have known each other for two weeks, have seen each other twice before this fic and they’re just so fucking smitten. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading :)) 

SNOW blew around outside the café, the faces of people passing by tucked underneath scarfs, buried in hats and mittens as they brusquely made their ways to their destinations.

The edges of the window were getting foggy from the warmth of the indoors as you took a sip of your coffee, looking down at the notebook you were jotting in. It was a slow afternoon. And your mind was taken up by the man who had been texting your phone for the past two weeks.

Two weeks. It was a short amount of time when putting it into perspective. But the days dragged as you anticipated the moment you’d finally be able to see Yoongi again. One date was all it took for you to be hooked on him. The texts were frequent, and the conversations were fun, but it didn’t take care of the desire to see him and be in his presence.

The last message you received from him was about twenty minutes ago. After confirming that you were yet again at this café you frequented, he told you, “I hope you grabbed a heavy coat like I told you to, it’s supposed to snow.” That was the last you heard from him.

The fact that he didn’t know it was already snowing for a couple of hours told you he had been locked inside his studio for most of the day, just like he had been for two weeks. The man had already given you several outs, warning you that his recent hectic schedule wasn’t unusual. Each time you told him to stop, reminding him, “I’m a big girl, I know what I’m doing.”

The truth was that you were so enchanted by the man already that you really didn’t think you could cut things off with him. His schedule was a slight concern, but you knew what you were signing up for, and you were never one to need constant attention anyway.

Taking another sip of your drink, the café door swung open, the whistling of the wind whipping through the interior, a chill hitting your skin. Your eyes slowly found the intruder who had disrupted the otherwise quiet café, your gaze first setting on their hands as they pulled the door shut, the sounds of the wind muting once again. Uninterested, but observing anyway, you noticed his arms were covered in just a sweatshirt, definitely not suited for the wind and snow.

Your eyes lingered on the body for a moment longer as you found the man’s face, delayed shock settling into your features as you realized you were staring at the one and only Min Yoongi, looking adorably disheveled as he shivered in his spot. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you shot him a confused expression. He quickly pointed his gaze to the floor, a small smile forming as he began to walk toward you, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his top. His bleached hair was windblown and slightly damp from the snow, his plush cheeks tinted pink from the chill. He was stunning, and as he neared your table, your heart pounded at the knowledge that he was there for you.

When he appeared in front of you, you stared at him with wide eyes. “Uhh, hi,” you greeted through a small laugh, the confusion still settled into your face. Closing your notebook, you asked, “what are y-”

“Hey Kid,” he mumbled, holding back a grin though you could see his composure slipping. “This seat taken?”

Your elbows on the table, you propped your chin atop your hands, looking up at him amusedly. “Did you practice that line on your way here?” You teased, the shock wearing off, though your grin stayed plastered to your face. At your comment, Yoongi’s lips curved into a gummy grin as he silently chuckled. “Sit down,” you gestured to the seat with your eyes, trying to conceal your giddiness though you were sure you were failing. “What are you doing here?”

Taking a seat, he shrugged, setting his forearms on the table as he peered at you, his eyes scanning your features but not meeting your gaze. “I needed a break,” he said nonchalantly, the small smile lingering on his lips knowingly.

“Oh, a break? So that meant walking how long from the studio to get here?” You asked, your fingers covering your mouth slightly to try to hide the smile that just wouldn’t go away.

“Exercise is good for you,” he told you matter-a-factly with a head nod, avoiding your question.

“Mhmm,” you agreed dismissively, placing your hands on the table. “How long?”

Letting out a sigh, he leaned against the back of the chair. “Only about 15 minutes.”

“In that?” You gestured out the window with a nod of your head. “The audacity of you lecturing me on wearing a coat when you’re walking around in a sweatshirt,” you scolded, Yoongi’s shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

As you shook your head at him, he looked down at the table, tentatively reaching across to take your hand in his. His fingers toyed with your own for a moment before he quietly admitted, “I wanted to see you.”

Your gaze lingered on his hand with yours, the feeling of his skin on yours sending heat throughout your entire body despite the cold temperature of his hand. Letting out a sigh, you smirked. “Do you want a drink?”

Yoongi’s eyes found yours for a moment, shaking his head as he withdrew his hand, placing it around your cup. “I’ll just have some of yours.”

You smiled, raising your eyebrows expectantly. “You’re gonna hate that,” you told him as he brought it to his lips.

As soon as the drink coated his mouth, he cringed on impact. “Shit, that’s sweet,” he complained, you biting your lip to hold back your amusement.

“I told you,” you pointed out with a giggle, reaching out to take the drink from him, bringing it to your own mouth. Setting it down, you both sat in silence for a moment, Yoongi looking around the surroundings of the café as you stared at him, taking in his chilled appearance.

Without a word, you grabbed your wallet off the table and stood up. “What are you doing?” Yoongi asked immediately, looking up at you.

“Getting you a drink,” you told him as you prepared to walk away, though Yoongi reached for your hand stopping you.

He shook his head dismissively. “I’m ok, Kid.”

“Just let me buy you a damn coffee,” you complained, Yoongi smiling at your annoyed expression.

His smile faded, however, as he looked at his hand holding yours. “I only have about twenty minutes before I need to head back though.”

You observed his melancholic expression, his apparent frustration tugging on your heart. A feeling of protectiveness washed over you, and before you could comprehend your actions, you found yourself with your free hand on his shoulder as you leaned toward him. Your lips touched his adorable cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to his soft skin, Yoongi’s hand squeezing yours in response. “You’ll just have to drink it fast then.”

You pulled your hand from his and walked toward the counter, leaving Yoongi sitting at the table, flustered and surprised, the red in his cheeks no longer just caused by the cool weather.

You could feel Yoongi’s gaze on you as you ordered him an Americano, and after paying you leaned against the counter, directing your eyes to the man sitting across the room. He shook his head at you, a smile tugging on his lips, spreading into a full gummy grin when you stuck your tongue out at him.

When neither of you looked away, an impromptu staring contest ensued, Yoongi holding back a grin as he scrunched his nose, feigning determination. His eyes got wider as the air made them drier and when he blinked you giggled. The man squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before opening them and looking at you with a cute smile, shaking his head again.

The barista handed you his coffee and you quickly made your way back to him, setting it on the table in front of him.

Avoiding eye contact, he whispered a quick but sweet, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you told him with a smile, watching him as he took a drink, his eyes directed out the window.

Without looking at you, he nodded his head toward your notebook that sat on the tabletop, pushed to the side. “What do you write in there?”

You feigned a gasp, Yoongi quickly looking at you with widened eyes. “That’s personal,” you teased with a grin, Yoongi hiding his smile behind another drink of the coffee. “I don’t know, a bit of everything,” you told him, placing a hand on top of the journal. “Poems that don’t rhyme, childhood memories, how much I love a good pancake,” Yoongi smiled fondly, a single breathy laugh leaving his mouth, “I jot down my favorite quotes, mostly from movies and books. I have a few song lyrics in here too.”

“Your own?” He asked curiously.

“No, no,” you quickly shook your head. “I can’t rhyme, remember? That’s all you, Min.”

Yoongi chuckled as his eyes found yours. “What were you writing before I interrupted you?”

“A welcomed interruption,” you corrected him. “And just a scholarly article about why Zuko is the best Avatar character.”

“Oh, hands down,” Yoongi told you, almost impassioned, screwing up his face as if to say ‘obviously’.

You sat back, letting out a light gasp as you whispered, “soulmates,” Yoongi chuckling.

He paused a moment, looking back at the journal and keeping his eyes there as you peered at his soft features. You could tell he was trying to work up the courage to ask you something so you decided to save him and try to boost his confidence by showing him something in your journal.  

You grabbed the notebook and flipped through the pages until you found a messy excerpt, smirking to yourself as you turned it toward him and gestured at it with a nod of your head. He raised his eyebrows, unsure if he should actually read it. “Read,” you told him.

He directed his eyes to the page, noticing that the passage was about how grilled cheese is one of the best comfort foods, and he looked up at you with his eyebrows pulled together though he was laughing. “I mean, you’re not wrong.”

“Huh?” You asked in confusion, looking at the page, “Oh, no, this down here,” you giggled, pointing to the bit of writing at the bottom of the page in the corner.

Yoongi looked again, and when he looked up at you, his eyes were wide and so soft, dripping with honey as you smiled bashfully. “Those are mine,” he pointed out, you nodding in response.

The lyrics were from the not even one minute and thirty second song, ‘140503 at Dawn’ off his mixtape, Agust D.

I always prepare two masks Hiding my true self Behind the defensive image I thoroughly hide myself

“The night after we met and I listened to your mixtape,” you told him.

“You actually wrote these down?” He asked rhetorically, mostly out of disbelief.

You smiled softly. “Yeah, I just had a bomb grilled cheese and I was listening to your mixtape and those lyrics jumped out at me. I just wrote them down real quick.”

He paused thoughtfully for a moment, thinking about the lyrics and why those were the ones you chose to write down. “Is that my only appearance in there?” He suddenly asked you shyly, but he looked you in the eyes with a sort of newfound confidence.

“Honest answer?” You asked, Yoongi watching you intently. “No.” He gave you a soft smile with a little nod of his head. “Even more honest answer? You’re probably in here too much,” you admitted as you shut the journal. “And not just your lyrics.”

As you tucked the journal into your bag, you chewed on your lip before looking at him, catching him staring at your face. “You’ve been taking up a lot of my thoughts the past two weeks, Min.”

With that he sighed, dropping his gaze to his cup, placing his hands around the paper container. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to take you out for a second date.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, drawing Yoongi’s eyes back to your face. “This is a lovely second date. I got you an Americano,” you smirked before taking a drink of your own coffee.

He chuckled, nodding his head. “It’s great, thank you,” he told you, his mind still focused on his guilt. “I’ve wanted to see you,” he told you. “We got done recording a bit ago and I went back to my studio to work but I just couldn’t focus.” He paused, but you didn’t speak, giving him the time to gather his thoughts and proceed. “You told me you were here again and I just-” he smiled softly. “I just started walking.”

“I’m a distraction,” you joked, Yoongi scoffing immediately. “What?”

“You’re the opposite of a distraction,” he told you, making you tilt your head expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate. “I’ve been writing so many lyrics since meeting you I’m gonna start running out of tracks to put them to,” he smiled shyly.

You tried to hold back the smile that was quickly spreading across your face, placing your hand over your mouth to conceal it. Yoongi let out a small chuckle at himself as he took a drink of his coffee.

“You don’t need to apologize, you know that, right?” You posed, Yoongi looking at you intently. “Like yeah, you’ve been on my mind a lot, but I understand. I know what I’m signing up for with you. And it’s not like I’m waiting by the door for you to take me out. I want you, Yoongi, I don’t need you.”

His mouth hung open slightly as he comprehended your words before sticking his tongue to the corner of his mouth, letting it linger on his bottom lip a moment, his mouth forming into a smirk.

“I know you’re good on your own,” he nodded. “But my time is yours if you want it.”

“I want it,” you assured him with a smirk of your own. He slowly nodded as he took a drink of the coffee. “And ditto,” you told him, his eyebrows raising from behind the cup.

“Ditto,” he snorted. “This is peak romance isn’t it?”

“It is,” you said with a giggle. Yoongi grabbed his phone, turning the screen on to check the time. When he let out a sigh, you asked, “time to go?”

“Yeah,” he frowned.

Looking outside the window, you reached for your coat. “At least it stopped snowing,” you noted before you nodded to the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

Stepping outside the café, you looked up and down his frame, shooting him a pointed glare. “A fucking sweatshirt,” you complained, Yoongi smiling at you, his hair blowing around slightly in the wind. Pulling your black and blue plaid scarf from your coat pocket, you handed it out to him. “Take my scarf.”

Taking a step back he shook his head. “No, you need-

“Take the scarf, Min.”

“No, what about you?” He asked as you stepped closer to him.

“Well I have an annoying honey boy who reminds me to bring coats everywhere I go so I’m good,” you reminded him with a smirk as you reaching up, draping the scarf around his neck. “The issue is my honey boy doesn’t listen to his own advice, so take the damn scarf.”

“You’re bossy,” he smiled, quite enjoying being called your honey boy, peering at you as you wrapped the scarf around him.  

“Get used to it,” you told him, biting back a smile.

“See? Still bossing.” He teased as you secured the scarf in front of his neck.

You smirked. “Well, now you have to see me again. So you can return it,” you told him as you continued to mess with the clothing, fluffing it unnecessarily, using it as an excuse to stay close to him.

Yoongi scoffed, your eyes glancing to his at the sound. “You think I need an excuse to see you again?” He asked with a smirk. “As if I don’t think of you constantly anyway.” You smiled at the comment, and he shook his head. “You have a way of getting under people’s skin, you know that? I couldn’t stay away from you if I tried.”

His comment had you swooning inside, though you couldn’t resist the urge to tease him. “Be cool, Min, damn,” you smirked, Yoongi shooting you a playful glare making you giggle as his hand found your waist, though the touch was barely there through your puffy coat.

“I think the scarf is situated,” he smiled, chuckling at you as if was then your turn to playfully glare.

“Well I’d be able to stop fucking with it if you’d kiss me already,” you sassed, Yoongi’s eyes falling to your lips for a moment.

“Bossy,” he whispered, you smiling amusedly. “Can I?” He asked, his eyes flickering to your lips again.

“Yeah,” you barely spoke out as your own orbs fell to his mouth.

Yoongi allowed his eyes to wander around your face for a moment before bringing his other arm around your waist, smiling as he closed the gap between you, connecting his mouth with yours. While one of your hands clasped the scarf, your other hand slid up to cup his jaw as you melted into the kiss. You opened your mouth against his but neither of you deepened the kiss, simply enjoying the feel of your lips on each other’s.

He slowly pulled his mouth from yours just the tiniest bit, leaving two sweet pecks to your lips before setting his forehead against yours, smirking at you.

“Maybe I don’t have to go back to work,” he said, making you giggle as you lowered your head, Yoongi’s lips connecting with your forehead for a moment before you stood up straight, stepping back a bit from him.

Patting his face gently with your hand you gestured down the sidewalk. “Get back to the studio, Min.”

He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as his eyes traveled your face once more. “Want to get rid of me, huh?” He teased, removing an arm from your waist and pulling your hand from his face, easily intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Oh shush,” you rolled your eyes. “I know I’ll be seeing you again very soon.”

“Yeah, yeah, you just want to get back to your Zuko fan fiction,” he smiled, you throwing your head back in laughter.

“Maybe so, wanna read it when it’s done?” You posed, Yoongi chuckling.

“Yeah actually, do you think you’ll have it done by tomorrow night?” He asked, running his thumb soothingly along the side of your hand.

“I think I can make tomorrow night work. My place?” Yoongi raised his eyebrows but nodded. “I’ll send you my address.”

“I’ll see you then, Kid,” he told you, reluctantly letting go of your hand as he began backing away, both of your hands falling to your thighs at the release.

“See you then,” you smiled. “Don’t write too many songs about me,” you teased him, Yoongi laughing shyly.

“Yeah, no promises,” he smiled happily before turning around and making his way down the sidewalk. You watched him leave, already counting down the hours until you’d see him again.  

[lxveille]

another love song

mk x reader

word count: ~ 2080 warnings: references to alcohol a/n: university!au; another ‘trying to get back into the feel of writing’ fic so... idk ?? tbh it’s more of a fic treatment but here’s what i’m posting anyway

Minkyun has gotten inspiration for his songs from you before. This one is different.

You’re nearly always the first person to place money into Minkyun’s open guitar case when he’s busking. 

More often than not, he tries to return your money once he’s packed up for the afternoon - but you refuse, and tell him he earned it. Then he usually spends more on you than you gave by buying you bubble tea or coffee before the two of you trek back to campus.

You’re not sure what you’d do with your Saturday afternoons if not for him.

You’d met Minkyun in a literature class your first year of university. At first it had been easy to write him off as a high school class clown having some difficulty adjusting to university expectations. Except that sometimes, when your professor would really dig into the themes of a text, he’d have something to share that would stick with you. A thought - sometimes chaotically explained - that would rumble around in your brain for a week, even. Eventually, you decided a proper introduction was in order. A fatal mistake, if you’d hoped to keep up some aloof, studious front. He had a way of warming others up, it turned out. You discovered he was friends with a number of people with unfriendly faces who somehow transformed into lighthearted, open books in Minkyun’s presence.  

You feel a little lighter around him, too. 

And on the days you don’t, he invites you to unburden. 

It became a common tableau: you sprawled out, exasperated, on the beanbag chair in his dorm room, ranting about anything that bothered you while he lay on his bed, half-propped up against the wall and strumming occasional notes on his guitar. A last complaint and a final chord, and then Minkyun would be on his feet with an idea of what the two of you should do to shake it out of your system for once and for all. Those plans only sometimes included just enough beer that the both of you were giddy and ready to laugh at anything. 

If Minkyun had to name one good reason to get drunk with you, it was this: it was the only time you’d sing. The very first time you let yourself break into song in front of him had been at a bar. It had been difficult to make out your voice over the speakers, but Minkyun heard. Maybe more important, though, was the way you swayed your shoulders and rocked into each syllable. 

He would tease sometimes that you ought to join him when he busked. He might make more with you joining in. 

“Ah, but then you’d have to split it with me, too,” you’d reply. You assumed, at least, that he must be kidding. 

It was spring the first time Minkyun asked you to listen to something original he’d composed. There was something personal about it that had never occurred to you when listening to a song before. For all the times you had watched him play, it was like looking at him from a new angle. Just as his commentary used to linger on your mind, his songs began to do the same.

 And in the winter of your second year, he asked if it’d be okay to use some of your own rants as inspiration in songs. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Just - the way you talk about the guys you’re getting over, and stuff like that. It could make for good lyrics.” 

“You’re going to quote me?”

“Well,” he lingered on the syllable, then broke into a dimpled smile. “No. But I don’t wanna take inspiration without telling you!”

So it happened that when he performed songs of his own, you sometimes began to recognize bits of your own infatuations and fallings outs weaved into his lyrics. The way he framed it, it usually made it easier to get over whoever had been behind the heartbreak. 

Minkyun isn’t busking today. The drizzle is enough that it wouldn’t be worth it. All the same, he spent the better part of the morning sending you messages asking you to come over. 

When you finally cave, you put on a front of unhappiness at the door, shaking out your umbrella before passing it over to his extended hand.

“I brought some stuff for my class so I can try to get work done like I’d planned,” you told him. 

He pouted for dramatic flair. “So you’re really just gonna act like you’re at your room at mine?”

“That’s what we agreed to! I told you I wanna get this reading done so I can just be hungover tomorrow without having to worry about Monday’s lecture.” 

“Damn, and people try to frame university drinkers as irresponsible.” 

“What can I say? I’m flawless,” you comment dryly as you pass into his room. 

“So you’re still going out even if the rain keeps up?” Minkyun asks. He settles into his usual spot near the foot of his mattress. You rummage through your bag for a textbook and your printed copy of the syllabus before finding a spot somewhere closer to the pillow. 

“Mm,” you affirm, “I think I’m officially entirely over Seungcheol, so it’ll be good for me to go out.” 

“Ahhh.” There’s something guttural and mischievous in the way he makes the sound. It’d be fair to expect some ribbing comment on how transparent you could be with these things. No such remark comes. 

It’s some time later, when you’re nearly done with your assigned reading, that Minkyun announces that he finished a new song recently. 

“Like one of your own?” you ask. 

He nods, and adds how he’d been thinking of playing it out this weekend if it hadn’t been for the poor turn in weather. 

You exaggerate a gasp. “You were going to share a song with a crowd before sharing it just with me?” There’s no real offence. It’s only a pattern that you’d noticed. Sometimes he’d say it felt needed, if only because he based part of the lyrics’ premise on your own experiences instead of his own. 

“I know!” Minkyun laughs airly. “Mother nature said not to, I guess!” 

“Well, are you going to play it now then?” You should tell him to wait until you’ve finished this chapter. That way you won’t entirely lose track of things. But you’re not infallible; and if there’s one thing you’re horrible at resisting it’s the chance to hear Minkyun play. 

He hops up from the bed to fetch his guitar. And he plays. 

It’s a love song, which doesn’t come as a surprise. Minkyun told you from the beginning - or at least when he first asked if he could take inspiration from your own heart’s tribulations - that he liked to write about that feeling. The good, the bad, or at the very least what he imagined of it. 

This song doesn’t feel familiar. Usually you can tell when he’s written indirectly about your own affairs. So these endearing words, these syrupy lines of dedication, of patiently waiting for the other one to notice… They must be from his own experience. 

A corner of your heart goes sour at that thought, and retorts that it might be one of his other friends. Devoted and hoping it won’t go unnoticed would be right up Yuto’s alley, you tell yourself as your search for a likely suspect. You don’t let yourself think too much on why you don’t want it to be Minkyun’s own feelings. 

Except there’s something else that bothers you. The way he keeps his eyes on his strumming fingers, or closes them altogether. 

Normally Minkyun looks at you now and then, and smiles at your reactions to his music. Even with the unhappy songs. 

You squeeze the textbook in your lap. A corner digs into your palm. He’s somewhere in the second chorus and your mind is fogging over with an irritation. It’s not his fault. You’re not mad at him. 

You just wish you had realized you want to fall in love with Minkyun sooner.

The last chord hangs in the air before you can fully process this thought. He looks at you expectantly. 

“What do you think?” Minkyun asks. 

You force a smile. “It’s sweet.” 

He leaves space for you to elaborate. When you don’t, the corners of his lips drag down a bit. “Just sweet?” He repeats. “Is it lame?” 

“No! It’s just - it’s different from some of your other stuff. But it’s sweet. I like it. I think, um… I just was expecting it to be something based on my whole recent back and forth thing. Since you wanted to play it for me,” you try to cover for your lackluster response. 

Minkyun looks you over for a moment, then chuckles. “Not every song can be about your love life.” 

“I know! Of course! Geez, that’s not what I meant,” you rush to say, loudly, as if you needed to cover the sound of some kind of fracture in your heart. 

He leans forward to set his guitar carefully on the tiles, its neck leaning against the bed frame. “I guess that’s not totally accurate to say here though.” He shakes his head to get his hair out of his eyes as he looks your way again. 

“...What?”  

“Ah… You’re pretty clueless, huh?” Minkyun sounds content with himself, and he’s barely holding back a grin. 

“I’ve never gone on like that about someone.” 

“Yeah, I know.”  

You eye him over a few times quickly, trying to reach a conclusion that feels safe. All you can theorize for sure is that he’s practiced this all, and somehow it’s going to plan. Maybe. “What are you on about?” you ask, tone turning suspicious. 

He laughs more fully now, then shifts his position to face you directly from the other end of his duvet. “You.” 

You glance around him like this could be some hidden camera prank. “What?”

“You,” Minkyun repeats, “It’s about you.” 

In the most foolish move of the day, you suddenly felt your throat dry out the same way it does before you cry. It must have been too much at once: to realize a desire and think it ripped away only to have it suddenly offered up so easily, so soon. 

“You’re not serious.” 

“Is it bad if I am?” he asks, leaning to the right a bit as he watches your reaction. You press your palm to your clavicle, trying to get your heart and your mind in sync. “Am serious, I mean.”  

All you can manage is a shake of your head. 

Minkyun grins bright and leans forward to put a hand over the one still at your side. “You really didn’t notice?” He pulls off incredulous and teasing in one go. If you weren’t so off kilter, you might want to scold him for it somehow. 

“What was I supposed to know?” You ask instead.

He shakes his head. For a fleeting instant, you worry he’s about to brush the whole thing aside. That worry is killed pretty quickly when he leans closer instead and delicately presses an experimental kiss against your lips. 

Minkyun is back to his side of the bed in the next moment, nearly like it hadn’t happened at all.  

Your hand lifts from your clavicle to allow your fingers to brush over your own lips, still tingly with the affection. Or maybe just from his lip balm rubbing off on you. 

He gives you a second more before asking, “Still okay?” 

“Um, yeah.” 

His smile returns. “Still going out to find someone new tonight?” 

“Oh my god.” You cover your face with your hands and accuse, “You’re the worst.”

“So… is that a yes, you are?” 

He knows it isn’t. 

He’s spent all this time getting to know you. Now he gets to be the one on the receiving end of that look in your eyes. 

“Would you stop that?” You muster up as much of a snip in your voice as you can. Your gaze gives away that you’re not really annoyed. It would be difficult to be, given the way your head is still spinning from his confession.    

“Stop what?” 

The smile on his face suggests he already knows. Nevertheless, you don’t give Minkyun the satisfaction of admitting he’s teasing you. “Just kiss me again,” you swerve to a demand. Frankly, it’s the main thing you’d been thinking since the first. You’ll figure out the rest of your feelings later. 

For now, Minkyun is hardly going to deny you that.

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Chapter Eight: Here's To Hoping

(Image not mine)

Rated: PG

~You see I had this crazy dream last night, this man he talked to me He told me everything that's good and bad about my history

He told me that you are, you are the future

And the future looks good The future looks good to me~

"Jack," Sam sighed, checking his watch, "You gotta face the possibility that Marty may not be coming."

Jack was pacing back and forth across the motel's parking lot, trying his best not to slip on the crystallized asphalt. Dean had called the frozen tarmac 'Black Ice' and Jack felt that the term was quite accurate, it did feel like he was trying to walk on ice. But Jack just couldn't stand still. It was seven thirty-five A.M. and Marty still had not showed.

"No, she's coming. I'm sure of it!" Jack said with conviction, wringing his hands before shoving them into the pockets of his jacket. The small amount of force he applied was enough to throw him off balance. Jack's feet slipped out from beneath him and his head smacked against the frozen tarmac.

Sam flinched in sympathy but didn't move from the spot where he leaned against the Impala. He made no move to help Jack up as this was the sixth time he had bashed his head on the black ice in the last fifteen minutes. That fall and the five others before it would have been enough to kill or at least critically injure your typical human being.

So naturally, or rather unnaturally, Jack sat up and rubbed the back of his head. The blood soaked his hand as the wound quickly mended itself. Soon all that was left of the injury was a puddle of blood, nearly identical to five others on the ground that quickly began to freeze. Jack scooted on his knees to the edge of the parking lot and used the snow gathered there to wash the crimson substance off his hand. He stood carefully before beginning yet another round of pacing that would most likely end the same way it had the last six times.

Jack wished he could be sitting in the Impala with Dean and Cas but he found that waiting for Marty was more important to him, so he kept pacing. He wouldn't have to wait much longer. Dean had said that they would wait until eight o'clock before going to look for her. That arrangement had taken quite a while to agree upon. When Marty had failed to show up at six o'clock, Jack had immediately feared the worst.

"What if-what if she's hurt, or something? What if she got kidnapped?" He had worried.

"Jack, I'm sure everything is fine. People have different versions of what 'bright and early' means," Dean had reassured him, taking a long sip of coffee. He did not want to be up, but one thousand miles was a long way to go, so it was best they got up early. Besides, the earlier they checked out, the less they would have to pay, the motel charged by the hour and the rates weren't cheap.

"I know, but you saw what happened last night! What if those guys came after her again?" Jack had leaned back against the Impala's seats. The only reason he had gotten into the car in the first place was for the air conditioning. He was deeply worried that Dean might just decide to take off without Marty.

"Jack raises a valid point, Dean. The odds that those men from the bar should come after Martina, are considerable," Cas noted.

"Fine, if the shrimp doesn't show by eight, we go looking for her, and if we can't find her by ten, then I don't care; we're leaving without her," Dean decided. That was when Jack climbed out of the vehicle and began his trek back and forth across the parking lot. Sam had just followed him.

"I dunno, Jack. She seemed sorta skittish, don't ya’ think?" Sam now spoke.

"What are you saying?" Jack asked, turning to Sam.

"I'm saying that maybe you freaked her out. Maybe she got scared and ran off. Maybe- I don't know- maybe she's hiding, or something." Jack's eyes narrowed.

"You think she's scared of me?" He asked, though it sounded like more of a statement than a question. "What did I do wrong?"

"No, no. Jack, you didn't do anything wrong. I think, maybe she's just scared of coming with us- of what that might mean for her. I don't think she's scared of you, Jack. Marty doesn't seem like the sort of person that scares easy," Sam reassured. A smile tugged at the corner of Jack's mouth.

"You're right. She doesn't."

"If she doesn't show, we'll go looking, but you have to be ready in case she's changed her mind."

"She-she wouldn't do that, she promised!" Jack insisted.

"Sometimes people break their promises," Sam warned.

"She's coming. I know she is."

"Okay, Jack." Sam ducked back into the car, leaving the young Nephilim to wait in the cold. Jack turned on his heel to resume pacing.

He forgot he was standing on the ice.

Down Jack went. Yet again. Bashing his head on the asphalt. Yet again.

This time, Jack decided to just stay down for a bit and closed his eyes. He could hear Dean's obnoxious laughter echoing from inside the Impala. Jack came to the conclusion that black ice, and ice in general, was hard, impossible to walk on, and absolutely unforgiving when you slammed your head against it. Jack decided that he didn't like the black ice, he decided that he didn't like ice at all. This was fortunate as seemed as though the feeling was mutual.

There was a skidding noise somewhere off to his left and Jack opened his eyes. He turned his head towards the sound and directly beside him was Marty's amused looking face, only eight inches from his own.

"That was the most graceful thing I think I've ever seen in my life. You should consider ballet, Jack," She said.

Marty lay on the ice next to Jack with her head propped up on her elbow. Her mouth was twisted in a smirk and she held an eyebrow in a raised position. The expression appeared condescending, but Jack could see the sparks of affectionate mirth gleaming in her eyes.

Now, the reason why Marty was laying on the ground was a mystery to Jack. He was also baffled as to how she had managed to sneak up on him the way she had. If she had been walking down the street, he would have seen her coming, but he hadn’t, and it wasn't as though he had been laying on the ground for very long. If she had been close enough to see him fall, then how had he not seen her? Jack sat up and his brows pulled together in slight confusion.

"Where did you come from?" He asked. Marty followed his lead and sat up with a shrug. A large, overstuffed backpack was slung over her shoulders, yet she carried it with ease.

"From over there," She said, causally gesturing to the thicket of trees just behind the Motel as if it was a normal thing for people to go bushwhacking to their destination instead of simply taking the road.

"Why?" Jack wondered. Marty shrugged again.

"Cause' it's faster and way funner than using the road," She answered. Then she blinked and her face sort of scrunched up and she shook her head, laughing to herself. "Funner? Funner? That's not even a word! I think I need to use the sleep." Jack laughed with her for a moment before glancing to his feet and frowning. "What's wrong Jack-Jack?" The line between Jack's brows deepened and he looked to Marty.

"Why do you call me that?" He asked, temporarily distracted from his cold, slippery problem. Marty's mouth twitched with a tiny laugh.

"Jack-Jack is a character in a movie about superheroes. Have you ever seen The Incredibles?"

"No, I haven't."

"Oof, buddy! I'll have to show it to you one of these days, just remind me. Anyway, Jack-Jack is a baby with, like 50 different powers that he just uses willie-nillie and, yeah; it's a pretty funny movie and when you said you had powers and that you're, like two, that's just what I thought of," She explained. "And I'm rambling again, sorry!"

"I don't mind. I like knowing what you're thinking about," Said Jack. Marty ducked her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in a shy sort of way.

"Nah, you'll get tired of it eventually." Marty tapped her forehead. "Up here is nothin' but a random mix of movie quotes, song lyrics, and paradoxical questions."

"I don't think so," Jack said, shaking his head. Marty made a face.

"Well I do! I live up there, dude! Anyway, what was the long face for?" Her change of subject brought Jack to his problem.

"I don't like ice," He said, as if that explained everything. Marty raised an eyebrow in question, "It's impossible to walk on!" Jack exclaimed.

"Ah, I see. I guess that explains why you look like a homicide victim." Marty gestured to the frozen pools of Jack's blood on the tarmac and the blood coating the back of his head. "Want some help getting up?" Jack nodded.

Planting her feet on the icy surface, Marty stood and extended her hand for Jack to take. He used her arm to pull himself up, doing his best to replicate what Marty had done to stand. He wobbled a bit and almost fell back down, but Marty caught and steadied him before that happened. When he was vertical again, Jack glanced toward the Impala and realized that now he had to get over to it without falling. Marty was quick to notice his worry.

"Come on, Jack. It's really not that hard, look!" Letting go of his hand and sliding out onto the ice, she twirled once, jumped into the air and then twirled again, lifting her foot to her knee. Her foot touched back down and dragged her to a stop, facing Jack who looked like he'd seen a miracle. "See?" Marty did jazz-hands.

"I don't think I can do that," Jack said, sounding a little intimidated.

"Oh, no way. That took me years, I was just showing off!" She explained with a wave of her hand. Moving back to him, she reached down to pick up an instrument case and wrap a gray plastic grocery bag around her hand.

"You should teach me!"

Marty chuckled and pulled some of her hair away from her face. Her black-to-grey-to-white hair was down again today, descending all the way to her knees. Jack had never met anyone with hair that long, but he thought it was amazing.

"Alright, just remind me take you ice-skating and movie bingeing, kiddo."

"I don't think you can call me 'kiddo'," Jack said with a frown.

"Why not? If you don't like it, I'll stop saying it."

"Well, I am biologically older than you, right?" Jack pointed out. Marty chuckled.

"Where does a two-year-old hear a word like 'biologically'?"

"I heard Sam use it."

"Makes sense." Marty shrugged. "Anyway, you're right, but I call everyone 'kiddo' age doesn't really matter. I call people all sorts of things."

"Like what?"

"You'll find out, honey-bunches-of-oats."

"Is that one of them?"

"Yup!" Marty snatched Jack's hand and helped him over to the car where she knocked on the driver's side window. Dean rolled it down and she glanced at the men inside. "Hey guys!"

***

"H-hey, Marty! You-you came!" Sam greeted me, he sounded surprised.

"I promised I would!" I said, I didn't miss the 'I-told-you-so' look Jack shot at Sam, "Dean, could you pop the trunk? I've got precious cargo." I raised the instrument case with my violin up into view.

"Yeah, sure." Dean climbed out of the car and skidded a little getting to the back where he opened the trunk.

I swallowed deeply. There were a LOT of weapons in there. Dean pulled on a tab and a panel came down, covering the arsenal in the truck's false bottom. I placed my case in carefully and slid it all the way to the back. Taking off my backpack, I positioned it between the case and the truck's door so my instrument wouldn't slide around. It was the most valuable thing I owned; I couldn't have it getting damaged. I then nodded to Dean and he closed the trunk. I was really doing this.

Jack opened the Impala's door for me and clung to it like a lifeline as I gathered my hair and slid into the backseat next to Cas. The boy followed after me and pulled the door shut.

"Here we go." Dean put the car into gear and rolled it out onto the road.

"So, where are you guy's taking me?" I asked, shifting to get comfortable in my seat.

"Lebanon, Kansas," Dean answered.

"Ooh, that's a long way away. I'm sorry I was so late. Did I make you very late?" Dean shrugged.

"Doesn't really matter, but yeah."

"I'm really sorry, I just wanted to say goodbye to somebody," I apologized, "But I brought chocolate! Will that atone for my sins?" I raised the bag of goodies Dan had given me.

"Hell yeah!" Dean reached back and opened his hand for the brown gold. I dropped a truffle into his palm, tossing one into Sam's lap and handing another to Jack. I held one out to Cas but he turned me down.

"No thank you, Martina," The angel said, gently.

"It's Marty, remember?" I corrected him and shrugged, unwrapping the candy. "Well, more for me, I guess." Dean reached his hand back again, asking for seconds. "Dude, this is gonna be a long ride, we gotta save our provisions." I declared, dramatically slapping his hand away.

"Aw, man!"

"Suck it up, butter-cup." I was about to pop the candy into my mouth when I noticed something on the wrapper. "Does anybody here like nougat?" I asked. Jack's head snapped up, his eyes begged for the truffle in my hand.

"I do."

"Oh good! I can't stand the stuff!" I passed him the chocolate. Jack looked at me like I was insane.

"Oh no, Jack. She doesn't like nougat, are you sure you guys can be friends?" Sam joked. At least I was pretty sure he was joking.

"You say that like I committed high treason!" I chimed.

"I dunno, I do feel betrayed," Jack said with his mouth full. I faked a gasp.

"I don't believe this! Jack, are you breaking up with me?" Dean burst out laughing, Sam snorted, and Jack just gave me his lopsided grin. My comment even won a quiet chuckle from Cas. I took that as a good sign.

"Yeah, I think so." Jack chuckled.

"Can we still be friends?" I asked, sarcasm dripping from my every word. Jack pretended to think about that.

"Only if you teach me to ice-skate," He mock-decided.

"It's a date! Wait, no its not, you broke up with me." I reached out and shook Jack's hand, sealing our satirical deal. The car shook with laughter and I gave myself a mental tally mark as I tied up my treat bag, placing it at my feet. When the laughter died down, Castiel was the first to speak up.

"Was that an instrument case you brought with you?" He asked.

"Yeah it is. Why?"

"I'd just like to get to know you," He answered simply.

"We all do. So, what instrument do you play, Marty?" Sam turned in his seat to look at me.

"Uh, I play the violin," I answered timidly.

"Are you very good?" Sam wondered.

"Um, well, I don't know. I'm sorta out of practice, but I started playing when I was eight," I replied. Sam chuckled.

"I'll take that as a yes." His tone was warm, despite his previous distrust. It made me smile, maybe I was winning him over.

"Okay, my turn," Dean spoke up.

"Yeah?"

"What's with the hair? I mean, that's a lot of hair. Why don't you cut it?" He asked. I bit my lip and nodded, trying to think of an acceptable answer.

"Well, my mom loved to braid hair, and my sisters, Bree and Jackie, hated having long hair so they cut theirs real short and my mom couldn't do anything with it, but I liked having my hair long. My mom would spend hours working on my hair, that was our time together. See, she always got so sad when I would cut it and now I just-" I stopped and looked at the floor of the Impala. "Now I just can't bring myself to cut it. Not without her. I don't want to make her sad. It's all I've got left of her." With a start, I realized I was crying and quickly wiped my tears away with my sleeve.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" I cut Dean off.

"It's okay." It had to be.

"Well, what about the color, what's that about? Or does this have a tragic story behind it too?" Dean asked, trying to make a joke. I cracked a smile.

"Oh, I've always wanted to have it like this. I love the fading colors, so hiding from a blood thirty vampire just gave me the motivation to actually go through with it," I shrugged.

"So, what's your real hair color?" Dean pressed.

"Black."

"Wait, that's natural?" He sounded stunned.

"Yeah!" I giggled a little. "The black is real, only the grey and white parts are dyed."

"You're lucky, black hair is cool. Looks good on you too."

"Thanks’ Dean."

That was when we passed the small, wooden sign on the side of the road. The paint was old, faded by the sun, and chipping away but I knew what the words said.

Now leaving Copper Harbor We'll get you back soon enough!

As I watched the town I'd called home for so many years fade from my view, I found myself hoping that I'd never return. I looked forward at the road ahead of me and the hunters beside me.

I looked to the future.

The future was looking pretty good.

~See, I had this crazy dream last night, this man he talked to me He told me everything that's good and bad about my history

He told me you are, you are the future

And the future looks good The future looks good to me~

Lyrics from: The Future Looks Good by One Republic

[theladylovingcrow]

Silk and Satin, Leather and Lace (Sanny smut fic)

⚠️ SMUT KINKY SMUT⚠️

Author (As known on Various sites): Lady Lover- Rockfic, Luluthechoosingcrow - AO3, theladylovingcrow - Deviantart and Wattpad, @sammy_bluebells - Instagram, @imacrowcawcaw - main Tumblr, @theladylovingcrow - writing/art Tumblr, @insannywestan - Sanny shipping Tumblr

Fandom: Greta Van Fleet

Pairing: Sam Kiszka/Danny Wagner (Sanny)

Length: 4000 words of SMUT

Warnings/Tags: cross dressing, lingerie, Sam in Lingerie, Sanny, kissing, smut, oral sex, blow jobs through underwear, dirty talking, getting rimmed while still in underwear, rim jobs, established relationship, Danny picking Sam up

Summary: Sam has a surprise for Danny - a lacy, kinky one. Lots of horny interactions ensue.

Author's Notes: I mean are you saying that beautiful, supermodel Sammy WOULDN'T look good in lingerie? Boy's so willowy and thin that a corset would shape him up so nice, and lace panties on that cute little bum... Yeah I have a kink lol. He'd just look so lovely I can't stop imagining it (and Zara you're certainly not helping (jk thank you @satans-helper as always for all the lovely feedback, this one is for you!!)) So here!

P.S. a lil mini playlist to listen to while reading: "Mein Herz Brennt" (Myuu - originally Rammstein), "Knocking on Heaven's Door" (Vitamin String Quartet - originally Guns n Roses) and "You Know My Name" (also VSQ - originally Chris Cornell) because I like classical versions of rock songs and that's what I listen to while writing. And yes, the title is from Steve Miller Band lol, "Abracadabra" is a good option too

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"Hey there, handsome. You doing something tonight?"

Danny looked up at the overused flirtation attempt and his breath caught in his throat.

There, in front of him, stood Sam.

His best friend.

Samuel Kiszka.

In LINGERIE.

A cream-colored, satin corset sucked in Sam's waist so small that Danny was sure he could fit his hands all the way around it. Having acted without his permission, Danny's fingertips had dropped his fork and were now grazing over the smooth fabric, then stretching out so that he could fit his hands above Sam's hips like he liked to.

The difference this time, though, was that his thumbs were only mere inches from brushing one another when he had Sam encircled. Danny stood, staring and feeling, trying to absorb what had appeared in front of him. The fabric was cool and soft under his fingers, the flower pattern slightly raised to cause a mixed sensation; burgundy lace panties clung to Sam's hips.

Danny ran his hands down the lines of Sam's body, pressing low on his pelvis and skimming the cream garter belt. The belt held up matching stockings that showed off skinny thighs and leanly muscles calves, adorned by little red bows at the top. A snug garter band was wrapped around Sam's right thigh, which Danny lovingly fingered.

"What's all this for?"

Danny could feel Sam's gaze on him, but he couldn't quite look away from his body, not yet. He was particularly fascinated by the bulge in the panties which made it abundantly clear that, though he was clad in feminine, curve-hugging lingerie, Sam was definitely male.

Finally, his eyes roamed back upwards to meet with Sam's. The question still hung in his head: what *was* all this for? He and Sam had fooled around enough times that one would think the bassist would realize Danny didn't mind that Sam was a guy. It was kind of a big part of their interactions, really.

"I wanted to see if you- if we'd like this. We all wear 'women's clothes' a lot," Sam said, making air quotes, "I know that, but I really, really like the pretty sort of stuff. I just... I just feel so nice and I think it accentuates my body very well. What do you think?"

Sam was looking at him with a mixture of erotic need and fear, probably of rejection, but he was in no danger of that from Danny. Who would have thought that Sammy would look a billion times better in lingerie than any woman? Not Danny, up until this point, but he thought that maybe some reevaluations of his opinions were in order.

"I think you look fucking amazing. You like this? I like it, and I have no problem with it."

Sam smiled that 1000 watt Kiszka smile at him and stepped forward to wrap his arms around Danny's neck. Danny caught him around the waist once more, letting his hands settle firmly on that tiny center. So small - so pretty! Danny wondered, would he be able to lift Sam up like this?

With a quiet grunt, Danny hoisted Sam a few inches into the air, which made him laugh in delighted surprise and wrap his legs around Danny's thighs. Sam clung to him like wet paper as Danny carefully turned around to set him on the table where he had been having a snack and working on some new lyrics.

Sam was set down on the clear part of the table, but he kept Danny's body wrapped up in his own. His brown hair hung down on his shoulders, hiding the little bit of broadness he had on them.

Danny leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Sam's left collarbone, then the right. He continued to plant his silent seedlings of love up and down Sam's throat and shoulders. As his lover's barely audible, at first, sighs grew in volume, so did Danny's desperation.

His gripped skinny, nylon covered thighs in strong hands, pulling Sam into him - until they were practically one odd shaped person leaning against a table instead of two young men indulging their secret desires. Danny worked his way back up to Sam's face, kissing him slow and deep.

Sam grabbed Danny's cheeks, holding him close. Their tongues tangled as their mouths finally met in an intense kiss. Danny moaned in the back of his throat, already incredibly worked up from the erotic piece of art that was Sammy Kiszka.

Sam was making soft sounds, little breathy 'mmm's and 'oh's against Danny. He stroked his lover's hair, smoothing it out of the way when black tresses fell in between their eyes. Squeezing with his thighs, Sam moved his body against Danny in a desperate rhythm to gain friction for his cock.

Danny, with a great amount of will power and physical strength, extracted himself from Sam's lean legs to drop to his knees in front of the table. He pushed on Sam's chest, gently encouraging him to lean back a little and give Danny more room to work.

The dark red lace of the panties was made even darker with sweat and precum, wet against Danny's nose. Inhaling brought the heady smells of his favorite person: alcohol-heavy cologne, Old Spice body wash, and male musk. It was fascinating - the feel of delicate lace and the boy scent of Sam; the sight of a straining cock trapped under pretty garments.

Danny lifted Sam's legs with a hand under each thigh, spreading them over his shoulders. He turned his head to the left, kissing and nipping at the soft skin of Sam's inner thighs. Sam spread his legs wider, giving Danny more access to himself.

Giving one final love bite to his thighs, Danny moved on to the erection straining against Sam's panties. The head was peaking out of one of the leg holes against Sam's thigh where he had tucked it, so Danny gave it an affectionate lick.

Sam whimpered above him, back arching off the table and hands tangled in Danny's luscious hair. His stomach - and deeper, down into his soul, even - churned pleasantly when Danny mouthed over his cock, soaking it through the lace with saliva.

Danny kept licking and sucking Sam's length all over through his panties, getting everything warm and wet. He pulled back and blew a breath of air that made Sam stir with the sudden coldness, tightening his hand in Danny's hair as a slight warning. Danny did it again, quickly, then reattached his mouth to the head and sucked it inside - hard - so that Sam wouldn't complain.

Legs squeezing around his skull and guiding him in closer, Danny let Sam set the pace for a time. It was more difficult to blow Sam through the fabric, but he was up to the challenge.

Sam was getting louder, voice even raspier than it usually was as he encouraged Danny through moans and a gritted out "Yeah, baby, yeah. So good."

Danny felt a wave of desperation wash over him, making the cock in his jeans strain painfully and the one in his mouth taste all the sweeter. He wrestled with Sam's limbs, all four of them holding onto him in some way, to get free for just a second.

Sam whined in loss, holding Danny tighter for a moment then letting him go entirely and falling completely slack back onto the table.

Danny hurriedly stood and grappled with his Western-style belt, having some trouble getting the silver eagle to unhook from the leather. He finally succeeded in opening it, the clink making Sam look up.

His eyes immediately darkened and pupils expanded, looking at Danny's hands working over his crotch with pure lust. Danny noticed Sam looking and made a little show of it, carefully separating the buckle from the leather and letting them both fall to hang from the loops, framing his covered erection.

He let his thumb rest underneath the button, not undoing it yet. Sam made an encouraging noise and sat up a little further, using an elbow to prop himself up. His big eyes were staring at Danny, his face was flushed, his chest expanding in fast rhythm within the corset's top; he looked absolutely delectable.

Danny couldn't wait a second longer, not with Sam biting his lip like that. He popped the button and unzipped the fly; spread the denim apart and gave his dick a relieving squeeze now that he could get to it.

Sufficiently comfortable now, Danny resumed his position kneeling in between Sam's legs, letting one hand gather up Sam's lace covered balls. He rolled and squeezed them as he laved his tongue over the base of Sam's cock, enjoying the soft, warm weight in his palm.

Sam's hips bucked, rubbing his erection across Danny's face and smearing precum on his lips. He pushed at the back of Danny's head, bringing him close so that he could grind against his face.

Danny closes his eyes and sighed, taking in the sensations: hot, hard dick, sopping wet lace, musk, Sam's fingers in his hair and the legs resting on his shoulders, the testes is his hand. Everything was overwhelmed with his love of being in this situation, of offering his body to Sam to please him.

Danny worshipped Sam, everything about him; his laugh, his hair, his mind, heart, and creativity. He knew that he was in love with Sam - as a brother and friend, definitely, intense yet intimate moments like now reminding him that his beating heart screamed "Romantically, too! You love him more than life itself!"

"Danny!" Sam sobbed, close to losing it. The teasing licks and rubs felt amazing, but they were held off just enough to keep him on the edge of cumming.

Sam grabbed his head in both hands, by the cheeks, putting Danny exactly where he wanted him. He moved his pelvis in a circle, letting Danny's stroking hands and face rub him while his burning mouth sucked Sam down as far as Danny could go, which was about two and a half inches - in part because if his gag reflex, and partly the panties making it difficult to fit anything more into his mouth.

Danny fondled his balls again, letting his middle finger down lower to tease at Sam's taint, and then his hole. He let Sam fuck his face as he listened to the moans and praises, pride glowing at causing such an ethereal beauty to break down in the throes of pleasure.

Sam bucked and quaked, holding onto Danny for dear life as he came into his mouth. Danny worked him through it, tongue pulsating and finger digging between Sam's cheeks, pushing the soft fabric partway into his entrance.

Danny swallowed the load Sam gave him, licking around the head of Sam's cock and then his own mouth to make sure he got everything. It had been a more unpleasant surprise the first few times, but he had acquired quite a taste - a burning desire, sometimes - for Sam's semen, knowing that it was all for him, caused by him.

"Ugghhh..." Sam groaned, body limp except for a few tremors occasionally running through his nervous system.

Danny started kissing at his thighs again, his hips, his sticky cock and panties; anywhere his mouth could reach. Sam whimpered, rocking back and forth like he wasn't sure if he should pull away from oversensitivity or let Danny inevitably bring him more pleasure.

Using his thumb, Danny pressed the panties to Sam's hole, slowly trailing the digit up to his taint and rubbing it hard. He brought his mouth to Sam's balls, licking them and even sucking one into his mouth, carefully.

"Danny, oh... fuck."

Danny grinned around Sam in his mouth, using his left hand to pet him over the lace again. He removed his mouth from Sam's balls and trailed his wet, spit slick lips down the crease in between Sam's thigh and hip.

He hooked two fingers around the underwear, pulling them aside and baring Sam's clenching hole to the air. Sam hiked his knees higher into the air, planting his stocking covered feet on Danny's shoulders: presenting himself. Danny himself groaned, already envisioning how Sam would look spread and dripping. He would get him there.

Danny stuck his tongue out, softly touching it to the skin right next to the pucker. He wiggled it, swirling it around and around Sam's hole until finally delving right into the center.

Sam shuddered and pressed his feet down, groaning encouragement. Danny flicked his tongue and let saliva flow off of it, getting the area hopefully lubricated enough to make going inside Sam a little bit more comfortable.

It took awhile of working in and out - poke inside, pull out, lick, try again - but Danny finally got half of his tongue into Sam's ass. That was all that he would be able to, he knew; and besides, Sam was a sobbing mess above him, indicating that it was more than okay already.

Danny suctioned his lips around Sam's hole. He let them glide and suck, almost kissing Sam's lower end like he would his upper. His left hand continued working Sam's cock, right squeezing at Sam's thigh, mouth eating Sam like he was Danny's favorite fruit.

He pulled back, admiring Sam's shiny hole for a minute as he took the hand off of Sam's thigh and moved it to his own erection, stroking over his underwear - not a lace thong, but regular boxer briefs. Danny shoved the elastic down and took his cock out, hissing a bit as the autumnal air, colder even inside, met it.

Sam had taken over stroking himself, wrapping his hand over Danny's and moving it for him, using him. He was propped up on his elbows again, watching Danny touch himself and panting hard.

"Finger me, please. Wanna feel you in me," Sam pleaded, digging his heels into Danny's back to pull him closer.

Danny gave a final kiss to Sam's ass - and wasn't he always, in a way - then nodded and jumped up, frantically searching all of the drawers he could see, but not finding anything. Then he ransacked Jake's backpack on the couch, knowing it would have- there! Good ol' Astroglide.

Sam laughed at his triumphant exclamation; high, breathy, preoccupied with arousal. "Want me to roll over, or bend over?"

"No, just like you are, Sammy. Unless you're uncomfortable?" Danny purred, staying standing thid time, popping the cap on the lube and squirting some onto the fingers of his right hand.

"I'm good. Hell, I'm great, can't wait for you to do that thing with your fingers, you know I love it."

Sam did indeed love it, Danny knew. He called it Danny's signature move, and for good reason; it made very person he used it on immediately cry desperately for more and give up all control in their desire to get some. Of course, Sam was most often the one on the receiving end of this maneuver, and he very much enjoyed it everytime.

Danny breathed out on the lube in his hand as he rubbed his fingers together, trying to warm it up a bit; despite Sam never seeming to feel the chill -- and Danny honestly wasn't sure how he wasn't shivering enough to fall off the table in just his skimpy little outfit - *God* -- he didn't think that freezing cold gel up the ass would feel very nice.

Sam jumped a little anyways when Danny's fingers pulled aside the panties again and met his ass, but it was more a hip thrust of eagerness than discomfort or surprise. Danny circled his hole, getting the surrounding area nice and slick, too, before carefully, gently pressing his forefinger in to the first knuckle.

He was met with melting, velvet soft heat that made him moan aloud. Sam was so hot, literally. It always shocked him, that first entrance; as if his mind didn't contain an adequate way to store the memory of the heat, despite having experienced it a plethora of times, now.

Sam reached over, straining his stomach, and took the lube from Danny. Sam was fully erect again, having the stamina to sustain multiple, quick arousals and more than enough material to cause them. He adjusted himself so that his cock was now facing upwards, instead of out of the leghole of his panties, squirting a little lube on and stroking it over the soft skin.

Danny pushed his finger in completely, feeling Sam clench and relax and clench again around him. He wiggled it back and forth, slowly, not wanting to hurt Sam with a weird angle but trying to find his prostate.

He knew he got it when he felt that difference in density of flesh and Sam shouted, clenching right around him. Danny made sure to keep his hand at the same angle, moving his finger in a staccato rhythm so he could hit it with every push in.

Sam had one hand fisted around the garter on his left thigh, stretching it as he tried to control himself.

Danny laid his unoccupied hand on Sam's belly, over the corset, rubbing it comfortingly, and hopefully permeating some heat through to Sam's skin.

"How much do you want, Sam?" He asked quietly, watching with fascination as Sam writhed on his single finger.

"Two. Another one, please, I can take two. Want it, Danny, love your hands. Need you in me."

Danny loved Sam's dirty talking, and Sam knew it. All of his usual eloquence went out the window when it was just the two of them - cocks, tongues, hands, bodies stroking and exploring - and he spouted the filthiest, horniest demands Danny had ever heard. It was like there was a chemical released when the two of them met; pheromones making Sam go crazy with a need he couldn't mask. Danny always delivered.

Danny took the offered bottle back from Sam and dribbled a bit onto his taint, pulling his finger out and gathering it all up before push two back in. He twisted and pumped, brushing over Sam's prostate and stretching him perfect just how he knew Sam liked.

"C'mere. I've left you on your own long enough," Sam said, eyeing Danny's hard cock in his underwear.

Wrapping his leg loosely around Danny's hip, Sam pulled him in until their pelvises nearly met and sat up, still trying to keep Danny inside of him. He took Danny's cock out of his underwear and started stroking him, but the angle was wrong for either of them to serve eachother.

"Okay, this isn't working," Sam huffed, letting go of Danny and using his hands to hold his torso upright instead of his core strength - which the corset was making it hard for him to do.

"Yeah, it isn't. Here, you lean back like that and I'll come forward," Danny said.

He put the hand not in Sam's ass on the table behind him, leaning ober so that his body was parallel with Sam's diagonal one. Sam resumed jerking him off, wrapping his other hand around the back of Danny's neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

They swapped love laden saliva, groaning against each other's mouths and both racing to bring the other to finish first. It was most likely going to be Danny, since he had been letting all of the arousal stew, unlike Sam - though that didn't mean he wasnt going to try.

Danny put his hand on Sam's lower back, holding him up. He ran his fingers over the laces of the corset, enjoying the bumps of chord and textured fabric. He brought his hand to Sam's hip, squeezing it tight and hooking his pinky under the garter, snapping it and making Sam chuckle breathlessly.

"You're so fucking pretty, Sammy. Can't believe you did this, you look amazing."

"You should see yourself, then, you're gorgeous," Sam replied, kissing his jaw and stroking him faster.

"Still think you're prettier, but okay. Now c'mon, cum for me, sweetheart," Danny begged, biting Sam's lower lip and ruthlessly rubbing his prostate.

Sam let loose something close to a shriek, taking his hand off the table to frantically stroke himself to a second orgasm.

"Danny, ohh..." He moaned, then gasped, high pitched.

Danny grinned. He loved watching Sam come undone - and, he had one the race (or lost, rather, but that was the point).

Slowing the pumping of his fingers, Danny relished the last few contractions of Sam's insides before gingerly pulling out. He kissed Sam's neck, adding to the trail of hickeys he had left when they started.

Sam panted against his shoulder, stroking Danny quick and hard to bring him to an intense orgasm. The wait had been worth it, because Danny was sure he hadn't cum like that in quite a while, and certainly never with someone other than Sam. They were compatible in everyway possible, this proved it.

"Holy shit!" Sam sighed, slumping onto Danny now that they were both spent.

Danny hummed in agreement, holding Sam close, sticking hand held awkwardly away from his body. Sam had no qualms about that and gleefully wipes his cum all over Danny's back, which got him a swat on the back of his thigh, right where it was most tender below his ass; it wouldn't be unfeasible to say that Danny had become acquainted with where to hit Sam's backside a few times before.

"Hey!" Danny protested, knowing that Sam didn't care a lick.

"Well, maybe you should take it off if you don't like me doing that. Why are you wearing so many clothes, anyways?" Sam asked.

"Oh right, taking my shirt off is the solution instead of you just not wiping your seed on me," Danny rolled his eyes, but unbuttoned his flannel anyways and dropped it to the floor. Sam spread his hands over Danny's broad chest, flicking his nipples and squeezing his pecs. "And I was totally occupied with you, I couldn't pull away long enough to get my clothes off, just my belt."

"I suppose that's all you need, though it didn't save your shorts, so don't 'hey' me for getting cum on your shirt. Speaking of, I think these undies are trashed, you did a good job," Sam said, raising a brow.

Danny looked down at the lace, all covered with semen, lube, and spit; soiled and stretched out. He felt it with two fingers - the ones that had been inside Sam, in fact - and concluded that they were indeed insalvagable.

"Okay, I'll get you some new ones."

"Really?" Sam's eyes lit up with happiness and some leftover arousal. "You'd by me women's panties?"

Danny blushed and nodded, kissing Sam sweetly. "Yeah," he said, pulling away a few inches, "I'd love to. Anything you want, you look so hot in them."

"That's awesome," Sam said, sighing. "You're awesome, and you always make me cum super hard, I love that about you." Danny snorted.

"Do you need help getting out of that?" He asked, curious to how Sam had actually gotten the stuff on - or where he'd even gotten it at.

"Please, I don't think I can untie this behind my back. We should clean up first, though."

"Okay."

Danny put one arm under Sam's ass and used the other to hold onto his waist, swiftly lifting him off the table he had earlier set him on. Sam laughed, hanging on for the ride as Danny carried him to the bathroom like he was a koala.

"When are you gonna wear this stuff again?" Danny asked, setting him down on the counter.

"As soon as you buy me more," Sam replied, taking Danny's hand and placing it back in between his legs, over the ruined fabric covering his stretched out hole.

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Somewhere Only We Know

Requests:

Hi can you write something with bellamy blake that's like angst and fluff based on the song Somewhere only we know by Keane thank u <3

Requested by: @marvelgladers

Hi! Can you please do something with Bellamy Blake where it’s fluff and then the reader gets hurt or dies or something and Bellamy is having a hard time dealing with it? I love your writing so much! Thx

Requested by: Anonymous

Omg don’t even care what it’s about but I just need more of you writing for Bellamy! You’re so good that doc literally made me so happy oml 😂

Requested by: @ferrisxbueller

Paring: Bellamy Blake X Reader

Word Count: 2,274

Post Date: 4-20-19

Warnings: angst, fluff, death, no happy ending 😢

A/N: Thank you all so much for your support! I love writing for you guys and I’m having such a great time with all the requests! Also I love writing for Bellamy because he’s amazing and I love The 100. Well, I hope you guys enjoy this one as much as you did the last ones! Also it’s based on the song Somewhere only we know by Keane and let me tell you, I had never heard of this song before and then I started listening to it for this and I instantly fell in love with it.♥️ I’m hoping I get the main gist of it correct for you all and that I do it justice because it is such a beautiful song. But you know it’s mainly in my head and how I felt writing through this song. Please go listen to it if you haven’t heard it before! This has got to be the longest story I’ve written, and I tried guys. I really did. Songfics are hard.😂 Love you all!

Also, idk if anyone reads this or not because it’s long as hell, but thanks if you do and keep requesting!

- Ria

*Based on Keane’s Somewhere Only We Know*

*Song lyrics are in bold*

*Not my Gif*

I walked across an empty land

I knew the pathway like the back of my hand

I felt the earth beneath my feet

Sat by the river, and it made me complete

“Bellamy!” You call searching through the tents for your best friend. “What!?” He grumbles as you finally find him in his tent tying his shoes for the day. “Bellamy, I’m bored! I want to do something and as my best friend, I’m your responsibility to entertain. So. Entertain me.” You say as you plop yourself down our his mattress throwing your arms and head off the side, Bellamy chuckling looking at your upside face. “Fine smalls.” He says sarcastically using the nickname you hate causing you to roll your eyes, he calls you that because even though your one of the oldest people you’re also one of the shortest. He’s still chuckling as you flip yourself over on the bed getting your way, “you want to do something? Then come with me on the hunt.” You stare at his smirking face with wide eyes. “You, Bellamy Blake, are actually letting me, Y/N L/N, on a hunting trip? Am I dreaming or did I die because there is no way you would actually let me do that.” You smirk watching as he rolls his eyes. “Fine, don’t go if your just gonna act like this.” He starts out of the tent before you quickly pull him back simply apologizing then grabbing your spear. A few hours later, and a lot of joking complaints on your part, you and Bellamy decide to head back to the camp. Before you get to far Bellamy stops walking, causing you to run right into him since you weren’t paying attention, causing you to stumble to the ground. “Careful Smalls, you don’t want to hurt yourself there.” He laughs as he sticks his hand out for you to take. “ oh shut up Bell.” You snap back at his amused expression. “Why the hell did you stop? Did ya get scared of your shadow?” You joke as he lifts you to your feet gently pushing you a little when your feet are finally planted, letting out a laugh st your pretend shocked face. “I wanted to show you something before we go back, found the place the other day and thought you’d appreciate the ‘beauty and whatnot’ of it.” He says with finger quotes as yougot excited. You could always find the beauty in anything, that was one of the things Bellamy had always loved about you. When you all first came down to the ground, you were the only person besides Octavia who could make Bellamy laugh and smile like he felt when he was younger. He drags you away from the path into a huge field with flowers and a river going through it. He glances over to watch your reaction, smiling as he sees your smile triple in size and your eyes shift a million miles a minute to take in the wonderful sight. “Oh, Bell… It’s… It’s beautiful.” You whisper turning to him, catching the sunlight around him, making him look almost angelic as you chuckle and lie down on the grass next to the river. Pulling him down right next to you, staring at his face as he stares at yours, finally feeling completely happy for the first time since the ark.

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?

I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on

So tell me when you're gonna let me in

I'm getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin

Walking around camp, you notice the stress levels are high. After Spacewalker and princess tried to “make peace with the grounders” everyone acts like they have a target on your backs. You aren’t that stressed because you trust Bellamy and, though you hate to admit it, Clarke and knew that they both had the 100’s best interests in mind. As you passed by the drop ships doors you began to hear yelling slowly building inside, knowing how everyone can be, you made your way inside to stop any potential fights, surprised to find Bellamy was there yelling at a smug boy who refused to work for the day. You grabbed Bellamy’s arm, feeling him tense when he felt your arm but saw him relax a little when he realizes it’s you. “Hey Blake, why don’t you take a break from threatening to kill people and come hang out with your best friend.” You smile as you see his eyes glance from the poor boy who seemed so confident at the start of this conversation, who is now looking like he crapped himself, to you who just so happened to be one of the only people not on Bellamy’s bad side. He reluctantly agreed and followed you out of the drop ship and to the gates. “Smalls, where are we going? We can’t leave camp, it’s to dangerous.” “Oh come on Bell, live a little.” You say winking as you both leave camp heading to the spot that he brought you to the other day, Bellamy lips curling up at the corners when he realizes where you’re taking him. “Ok Y/N, I get it, I need to relax but we shouldn’t be this far from camp after the bridge.” “Oh my god, Bellamy stop worrying, we are gonna be fine, besides I have you to protect me and you have me to protect you. And bell, I mean this in the kindest way possible… you look like shit. You need to relax AWAY from camp.” He feigns hurt as he places his hand to his chest causing you to snort at his ridiculousness. “Look Bell, I know you’re stressed and tired with everything going on at camp and i guess, I just wanted you to know you can tell me anything and always rely on me to make you feel better or just to be there, you just gotta let me in Bell.” Bellamy looks at you and smiles causing your cheeks to slightly blush as you pull him down by the river, placing yourself between his legs with your back lying down on his chest while he props both of you up with his arms. You stare up at the sky and then down at the river while Bellamy constantly scans the woods for Grounder movement, after a few minutes his eyes drift down to you as yours somehow managed to drift to his. For a few seconds Bellamy had forgotten about the grounders, the 100, and the damn ark that dropped you guys. He was just focused on you, and you focused on him. Both of you completely happy once again.

I came across a fallen tree

I felt the branches of it looking at me

Is this the place we used to love?

Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

Its been a week since you had managed to drag Bellamy to the field, and everyday since you and him have been going there for some time each day just to relax and spend time. You and Bellamy have been best friends since you were on the ark, you were the only person outside of the Blake family Bellamy had told about Octavia. He might have been a few years older than you, but you guys didn’t care as you both felt happy and carefree as friends. But lately, after you guys found your spot, things have changed, you think back on all the times you and Bellamy were just friends, people who deeply cared for each other, but not in a romantic way, not in the way Bellamy feels for you now, and the way you feel for him. “Y/N…” Bellamy says as you lean up against his chest in the field. You turn your head to face him as you hear with voice wavering, giving him a slight smile and nod to continue he adverts his eyes from your face looking up into the sky, throughly confusing you. You shift in his lap to face him place your hand on his cheek and pull his focus back onto you, worried that something had happened and he wasn’t okay. “Hey, Bell, it’s ok. You know can tell me anything.” His eyes bore into yours and your breathing hitches, “Y/N, I’m in love with you.” You feel yourself completely stop breathing, still staring up at the man you love, who closed his eyes and wished he hadn’t said that when he saw your reaction. After giving your brain a minute to process what had happened, you raise up and press a light kiss to his lips while his eyes opened in shocked. After he had realized what was happening he pulled you closer into him and pressed your lips harder to his, you hands had managed to find their way up to his neck and one into his hair, while his made its way onto your back and hips still pressing himself to you. When you separated the smile you had never left your face, “I love you too, Bell.” You whisper back to him causing him to pull you back into another kiss.

A few days after you and Bellamy started dating and became inseparable, you took a group on a hunting trip with Bellamy. Hunting trips have been limited in case of Grounder retaliation, but you all were desperate. When the hunt was ending and you were heading back, something had caught your eye. You told everyone to be quiet and get down as you and Bellamy were in charge of scanning the woods for the grounders. When Bellamy had caught sight of one of them, he got everyone’s attention to let them know, but then you got sight of another, then another, and another and soon, you were surrounded. You had no plan, you were scared but you weren’t going to let anyone see that, so you put on your best poker face and listened to Bellamy’s plan. When he was done explaining, the grounders were gone and you had no idea where they went. You guys remained close together, not daring to separate from the group, at least that was the plan. But one cocky idiot thought he was better off alone than with the group. He started running off, accidentally grabbing you in the process and pushing you away from the group. Seeing he had grabbed you, he stopped running to make sure you were ok. Dumb mistake. The second he had stopped moving a spear went right through his chest. And he hit the ground in record time. And without even thinking you stopped moving. Dumb mistake. Pain, that was all you felt, looking down at the spear prodding through your stomach. You could hear the grounders retreat as the fog horn sounded, and you could hear Bellamy scream your name and you hit the ground, falling like a tree. “Hey-y, no-o, no, no. Please I love you, no please don’t go.” He screams as he tries to pick you up to take you to camp, cradling your hand in his neck. “Bell-l, Bell-l please, I’m so tired, just… please.” You barely whisper blood starting to dribble out of your mouth, looking up at him. “No Y/N, please think of the field and- and the river, Y/N think of the river and when we said I love you. God Y/N please, please for me, keep breathing.” Your eyes had somehow fluttered close and your breathing short and barely there. “Bellamy, Bell, you- you were my dream.” You managed to whisper smiling before you went limp in his arms, your breathing completely stopped and his mind completely breaking.

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?

I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on

So tell me when you're gonna let me in

I'm getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin

And if you have a minute, why don't we go

Talk about it somewhere only we know?

This could be the end of everything

So why don't we go

Somewhere only we know?

You were gone. Bellamy hadn’t managed to go back to your spot since that day. But it’s been a week and he needs you, he needs to talk to you, to hold you, he relied on you more than he knew. You kept him sane. He felt tired, drained, and needed somewhere to go. So he went somewhere only you know, he went to the field. When he got there he fell on the ground, and for the first time since you died, he cried. He cried for a while, until he heard a branch snap behind him. Quickly grabbing his spear and wiping his face, he shot himself around, only to come face to face with Clarke, who apparently followed him to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. “Bellamy… what are you doing here? You should be back at camp.” She says as she places a hand on his shoulder as he remains on his knees staring at the ground. “I just… I need her. This was our spot.” He mumbles his eyes drifting up to the river remembering your face the first time he brought you here, when everything began. “You wanna talk about it?” Clarke says keeping her voice soft as to not upset him. “I can’t. It’s over. This was the end of… everything.” His voice becames breathy as he tries to hold in his emotions, not letting his co-leader see him cry. “I came here.” He said. “I had to come somewhere only we know.”

[mistymark]

the one with the stagehand // m.k.l

mark lee x reader // theatre au // 1.4k // masterlist

summary; in which mark really wants to impress y/n but singing is not the way to go apparently

warnings; nope this is a Pure piece // no real plot

requested; nope but I havent posted in ages so :// here

notes; sorry for not posting in forever !! but here is my third mark post of the night so hopefully y'all will forgive me

mark has been talking about auditioning for the next production for a while

it may or may not be because you are the director’s assistant

the dreamies laugh but still encourage him to go for it, sure he’ll fail and/or embarrass himself

and that would be fucking hilarious

so mark goes and picks up a script from the actual director and practices in their dorm at all times of the day

after hearing the script three times, hyuck starts quoting it, and has learnt more than mark

hyuck starts teasing mark that he’ll go against him for the lead

after standing on the kitchen table in the middle of the living room and belting the lyrics to the audition song to everyone at breakfast (and surprisingly getting a lot of compliments for it), hyuck decides to audition 

tensions run high as both hyuck and mark start practicing

to spite mark, hyuck asks you to run lines with him

mark retalliates by telling the director that hyuck wants to be the love interest instead of the lead

(jisung asks you if he can join the stage crew - of course, you said yes)

chenle asks shortly after

you think its really sweet that they want to support the theatre students but really theyre both there to see jaemin and mark crash and burn during auditions

on audition day, both mark and hyuck audition for the lead role

they havent spoken in a week

(markhyuck summer fight of 2017 y'all)

you sit with the director and judge them

you smile when hyuck walks on stage, knowing how hard he’s worked

mark is kinda really annoyed, scowling as he watches hyuck “butcher” the audition song

ur really surprised when mark rocks up on stage

because ”im really more of a rapper dude cmon”

but nonetheless he did

and you were ????? shocked??? he was Great

but when he saw ur face

he had the most SMUG grin

and u were instantly like >_>>>>

anyways

once auditions were over

they both stomp out of the theatre, refusing to speak

the cast list is posted two days later, and they both race to find out who got the role. both of them physically deflate when they see the name.

JENO?! 

they’RE BOTH Y E L L I N G

loud bois

jeno walks down the hall calmly, just checking if he actually got the role

he’s very startled when he sees he’s got the lead

mark and hyuck demand answers, and finally speak to one another again (that is before mark points out hyuck got the lead as jeno’s love interest) 

hyuck is s p u t t e r i n g

“I didn’t even audition for that role!!!”

he’s very confused, before he sees that mark’s name isn’t even on the list

smugly, hyuck points this out

sticking his tongue out at mark

until jeno’s like

yo wait mark’s name is here

mark’s name is flagged as “lighting and tech, to report to y/n l/n”

mark is honestly more rapt with that than he would have been if he’d been given the lead

during practices, mark mucks around with the lights, mostly on purpose, partly because he has no idea what he’s doing, just so you have to go over the lights with him AGAIN

chenle is mostly unseen during rehearsals, but he is heard because he keeps dropping props and bumping into sets

they all hear jeno’s voice for the first time, and realise he was probably a better lead than both mark or hyuck

though hyuck is adamant it should've been him

“the director just has it out for me I swear!!! he didnt like me at all last year”

“no one did” - renjun, 2k19

you hang out in the lighting box most of the time, because that’s the only place kun can’t find you and ask you a million more questions about his sets and costumes

mark loves it, he jokes and makes you laugh, until he misses his queue for a light or something and you dont talk to him for half an hour so he can focus

hyuck, at first, refuses to play the love interest the way its written, swaggering around the stage and saying things like “this is ridiculous” after all of his lines

after a few practices, he gets really into it, and doesnt even need his script, he’s spent most of his afternoons memorising all of his lines and stage directions

one practice, mark is not needed with the lights, because they’re just doing a props and set run-through with the full cast, so you ask if you can practice some of the makeup on him

mark, of course, says yes.

you blabber on about running the production, and how the director does LITERALLY NOTHING since the auditions, and just sits there while you do everything else

and how the hair and makeup girls were absent and barely ever showed up, and how you had to practically beg Jaemin to help out on the night (the agreement was; he wouldn’t have to attend any rehearsals other than the dress rehearsal, and of course, the nights of the performance)

as he doesnt have a lot of experience with makeup, youve given him the easy tasks

but it still means you have to learn how to do stage makeup

all mark can think about is how close you are to him

after a pause, you, as if for the first time, notice how sharp his jawline actually is 

and for a while, thats all you can think about

“thinking about me?” mark does one of those little half-smiles that bothered you (but you totally still thought it was kind of cute)

“always” you rolled your eyes, your tone dripping sarcasm

you stepped back, biting the inside of you cheek to stop a smile creeping up on your face

“I think I’m done.”

“finally” mark lets his head roll back against the edge of the chair, messing up his hair, and then stands up to grab the mirror

at this point, you let out a laugh, and mark furiously turns around “YOU TURNED ME INTO A FISH?!” 

you grin, “a very CUTE fish, you’re Flounder!” 

you're very proud of yourself; the fact that mark could even tell he was a fish was a good sign

“WE’RE NOT EVEN DOING THE LITTLE MERMAID!” he starts to rub furiously at his face, trying to get the makeup off, but ends up looking like he’s just been beaten in a fist fight

you can barely contain your laughter, “aw come on, that took ages!!”

later that week, after a six hour rehearsal, the director asks mark to change the lighting filters on the stage, even though he could have done it during the rehearsal

but I mean its okay I guess bc he has to stay back

and

you're staying back too

so like

;)))))

hyuck and jeno are laughing about the kissing scene next week, it hasn’t quite dawned on them that THEYRE actually the ones kissing

Jisung is frantically trying to find the lighting filters, even though he already gave them to mark, and then leaves after being told by you that he was stressing you out

in the lighting and sound booth, you’re going through the script again, marking areas the cast needs to go over and adding stage directions

you hums the duet that hyuck and jeno had been singing earlier as you do it

mark, who is balancing on a ladder on the stage, trying to fit the new filters onto the lights, nearly jumps out of his skin as he hears the humming come through the speakers around the theatre, the microphone in the booth catching every note of your singing

he smiles but continues changing the light filters, not being able to stop himself from singing the other part of the duet

soon, he’s screaming the lyrics as loud as he can to try and drown out some of your off key humming

you’re laughing in the booth as he screws up his face, his glasses balancing on the tip of his nose as he tries to block his ears with one hand and adjust the stage lights with the other

“now I can see why you’re on stage crew” you smirk, leaning down to talk through the mic, “you’re a terrible singer”

“a terrible singer, maybe, but even I can detect how off key your humming was” he yells back, sticking his tongue out and momentarily losing his balance on the ladder

[awake-and-strange]

This obituary by Janis Ian about Anne McCaffrey is very A Passion for Friends:

There've been so many mentions of Anne McCaffrey in the post below, I thought to post this homage I wrote for Locus Magazine when Annie died. I miss her, a lot. I kept a few of the most precious books she gave me, but last time I opened one I burst into tears... I feel fortunate to have loved someone so wonderful, to have been loved in return, and to miss her this much. From Locus Magazine: THE MASTERHARPER IS GONE "I have a shIelf of comfort books, which I read when the world closes in on me or something untoward happens." —Anne McCaffrey I miss her fiercely, more than I have any right to miss her. I remind myself of this whenever I run into her at the library and am stricken with tears. She was not kin, was not connected to me by family ties, not even a distant cousin. Not even Jewish. I have no right to miss her this much. And once in a while, when I chide myself for my silly sentimentality, the sudden lightning that pierces my heart gives way to a duller, deeper pain. One I can live with, perhaps. Like today, waking to a terrible cold, with headache and foggy brain I reach for solace. Put on my red flannel comfort shirt, add my favorite PJ bottoms, then a pair of  fleece-lined slippers. Make my favorite tea, cover myself with an old patchwork quilt, and reach blindly for a book on my “comfort shelf.” Of course. I can’t escape her. Hours later, still miserable, I finish "All the Weyrs of Pern"  for the umpteenth time, and scold myself for the tears that fall – first, because she is gone, and second, because I never really succeeded in telling her just how much she meant to me. I’d never heard of her when I stumbled across for "The Ship Who Sang" at my local library. I wrote to her, saying that it had moved me profoundly, wondering how a prose writer could have such a clear understanding of a musician’s soul. Being one myself, I said, a musician that is, and would like to send a copy of my last record in gratitude. She responded with a laugh that she had never heard of me but oh my, her children had, and could we trade books for recordings? And so, we began. I raced through everything she sent – such generosity, so much that it took two large boxes to ship it all. She, in turn, told me that while she appreciated the beauty of my “Jesse” and the clarity of “At 17”, she was writing her current novel to the beat of my one disco hit, “Fly Too High.” I laughed aloud because it made an artist’s sense to me – dragons flew, and Anne flew with them, regardless of the beat. It was the third or fourth email that she began with the salutation “Dear Petal,”.  Petal. Me? I responded that of all the things I’d been called, no one had ever dreamed to name me “Petal”. She answered briskly that obviously, they’d never seen me bloom. From that day forward, I was her Petal, and she my Orchid. We corresponded ferociously, both all-or-nothing no-holds-barred types, Aries to the hilt. Weekly, daily, sometimes hourly. Dropped out at times when one of us was “on tour”, came back to it as we could. The time passed. Her beloved agent died. My parents passed away. She got a scathing review; I sent a few of my own. She was stuck on a chapter, I was stuck on a verse. We got unstuck, stuck again, and through it all we talked, comforting one another as only a “good hot cuppa” can. She picked me up herself in Dublin, leaning on a cane, nervous to meet in the flesh until I ran into her arms and smothered her with hugs. She drove between the hedgerows with complete abandon, a total disregard for ruts or speed limits, while I clutched the seat and wondered who’d get the bigger headline if we crashed. Annie, I decided, for she was truly a two-column, bold print kind of gal. By then, she was always “Annie” to me, or “Annie Mac”. My larger than life friend, who consorted daily with dragons and starlight, her own luster never dimming  beside them. Once, after she showed me the rock cliffs of the Guiness Estate and explained that Benden Hold looked just like that, she asked if I would write a theme for it. For the movie? I said. “Yes”, she said, “A theme. Because if Menolly came to life, it would be with your voice.” I say this not to brag, but to indicate the trust between us – such trust that when I got home, with no film in sight, I began sketching out some notes for “Lessa’s Song”. I wanted it to be haunting, the way her words haunted me. I wanted it to be sweeping, like the thrust of dragon wings. I wanted it to be everything I could bring to her, a gift for someone whose words took me out of my world and into hers. As she said herself, “That’s what writing is all about, after all, making others see what you have put down on the page and believing that it does, or could, exist and you want to go there.” I hope someday to finish that melody. I hope it’s good enough for a MasterHarper to sing. I hope she regarded me worthy of the title. Because that’s what she was for so many of us – the MasterHarper, singing in prose, songs that reminded us of where we’d been, and what we could become. She came and stayed with us in Nashville, bringing a broken shoulder and trusting me to care for her. We visited Andre Norton, Annie insisting I not just drive but sit with them and listen to “a bit of gossip”. These two women—one writing at a time when pseudonyms were necessary for a woman to get published, the other cracking the New York Times bestseller list with, of all things, a science fiction book, and by a female at that!—talked of publishers, rumors, scandals old and new, while I sat as silent as an unopened book, wishing I’d thought to bring a tape recorder. At first, as her health declined, she bore it cheerfully. “I’m bionic now, Petal, complete with metal knees!” she declared. “Better than ever, and no pain.” She kept to her writing schedule, doing what she could to help her body retain its youth. Swam every day, bragged about her granddaughter’s accomplishments at school – “First prize, don’tcha know!” and commiserated over our various surgeries. We sound like a couple of old Yiddishe mamas, comparing whose surgery was worse! I laughed, and she laughed along with me. Neither of us reckoned on the psychic toll. “Old age is not for the faint of heart,” she quoted, as her energy began to leech away. How is it we artists always forget just how hard it is to write? how much work it is? How can we ignore the vast psychic drain that accompanies every act of creation? We both knew it from her Pern books, when going between enervated even the hardiest of dragon riders. But somehow, we never expected it in “real” life. It’s only when we lose that effervescence, through age, through illness, through sheer attrition, that we realize how necessary it is to our work. How fundamental to our beings. “I can’t write.” She confessed the shameful secret to me not once, but dozens of times, as if repetition would prove it a lie. At first, playing the friend, I tried to reassure her. Then don’t! Take some time off, Annie. Restore your body, and the brain will follow. Talent doesn’t just disappear, you know – it lies in wait. But she knew better. “I'm still not writing.  I think I know how Andre Norton is feeling, too, because I suspect that she's finding it very difficult to write, as the wellspring and flexibility that did us so much service is drying up in our old age. And no false flattery. AT 76 I AM old, and she's in her nineties.   It takes a lot of energy to write, as much as it takes you to keep on adding flavor to your song presentation. Sorry to blah at you but you're one of the few people who does understand the matter when an artist questions their output.” I responded in kind. "No worries talking to me about not writing... I sure as hell know the amount of energy it consumes. Every time you sit down to write, it's a performance. Only you don't have the luxury of props - no lights, sound, other actors to step behind when the inevitable fatigue hits. Heck, Annie, I'm feeling it more and more now, and you've got a quarter century on me.  I notice it mid-show; two hours used to be a piece of cake. Now I feel myself flagging at 45 minutes, and I really look forward to that 20 minute intermission, if only so I can have some water and sit for a few minutes. "Same with writing, for me. Used to be able to sit and write for 6 hours at a stretch. Now I'm good for two if I'm lucky. Part of it's my back, but most of it is - I fear - just that I'm older. It sucks." And she wrote back. “Must write. There are IRS problems. You wouldn’t believe. Mouths to feed, people depending on. Advances already spent and gone. Must write.” And so, she wrote, but for a while there was no joy in it. Still, I loved what she wrote, and told her so. I was proud of our friendship, not because she was so damned famous, but because she was so damned good. She even used my name in a book – Ladyholder Janissian in Skies of Pern – and roared with laughter when I admitted I’d been so wrapped up in the story that I hadn’t even noticed. But she knew – as artists always do – that while her ability to plot continued apace, the actual writing of it was becoming an endurance contest she couldn’t hope to win. “Turn more of it over to Todd,” I argued. Her son had a real knack for a sentence, but it was hard for Annie to let go. Of course. What artist can? “His words may not sing the way yours do – yet. He doesn’t have your lyrical grace – yet. But he will, Annie, you’ve just got to let him breathe!” I said it and said it and said it, to no avail. Then came a day when, 25 years younger and an ocean away, I finally lost patience and angrily berated her. “Damnit Annie, quit complaining and just stop! By God, you have created a mountain of work, an incredible legacy that will endure and be read by zillions of people long after both of us are gone – so quit whining about what you cannot do and start looking at what you have done. It’s time, Anne. Take this unbearable weight off your shoulders and stop!” I sent the email off and waited for her response, fearing I’d gone too far. A day. Then another. Finally, sure I’d lost a friend, I called to ask just how angry she was with me. Oh, no, not at all, she’s “in hospital.” She took a fall. She’d write soon. And she did, quoting me and saying “I knew you, of all people, would make sense.” A sweeter absolution I’ve never had. We continued our friendship, bitching about our bodies, menopause, the inevitable “drying up” of everything that comes with the feminine mystique. You cannot imagine the luxury, for me, to have a compatriot a quarter-century older. As an artist, I admired her work. But as a woman, I was relieved to have someone relentlessly honest about what was to come in my own life. We traded constantly. I sent her Lhasa de Sela, Sara Bettens. She sent stories about her animals, and the garden. One spring she changed my salutation to “Dear Crocus Petal – there are eight coming up now!” We planned  to visit Prague together in September ’01, but then came 9/11, and I chickened out. To be brutally honest, I was afraid to fly. Annie gently took me to task, then went off with someone else instead. I will regret that for the rest of my life. She went into the hospital for the last time while I was touring the UK – just a ferry boat and an ocean of commitments away. Knowing how out of touch she’d feel, how fretful she’d be, I tried to call every day. We fell into a pattern – I’d wait until I was in the van, then phone her up and tell an off color joke, a bawdy story, a bit of kindly gossip. Sometimes about people we knew in common, Harlan perhaps, or Scott Card, whose work she admired. Sometimes just a silly series of puns I’d found on line. Whatever it was, I wanted to make her laugh, because I loved to hear her laugh. She died while I was on vacation, just days after the tour’s end. I’d brought a copy of Dragonsinger with me because on vacation, I always brought a few “comfort re-reads.” I’d fallen asleep over it, waking to an email from Gigi. Please keep it quiet until I can reach everyone, she asked. My older brother Alec is still in flight, and we don’t want him seeing it in the paper before I can reach him. I called with sleep still in my eyes and heard the hum of people behind Gigi’s answering voice. It was fast, it was painless, it was everything Annie had wanted. No lingering. A “good death” for her. But not for me. It’s hard to open my computer knowing there will be no “Dear Petal.” It’s hard, after knowing such a warm and giving shelter, to go without. Sometimes I run across a sentence that sings to me, and jot it down to show her. And sometimes, when she leaps out at me from the cover of a book, I remember she is gone, and it hits me like lightning, fast and lethal and completely unexpected. It stops my breath, until I remind myself that she is gone, but I am still here. When the lightning hits, I comfort myself with this. The beauty of Anne’s writing is that she makes it all seem, not just possible, but normal. For men to go dragonback. For women to become ships. For young, unwanted girls to become MasterHarpers. For brains to pair with brawns, and sing opera under alien skies. And for an unlikely friendship to bloom, a pairing no one could have imagined, between a petal on earth, and an orchid in flight.

[spaceorphan18]

Finding Kurt Hummel: Transitioning

Masterpost

6x07: Transitioning

It’s not really a surprise that an episode called Transitioning is in the smack middle of this shortened season.  It certainly makes much more sense than Swan Song being in the middle of the season, lol. 

So, we get a lot about Beiste, and Trans rights, and a whole lot of stuff I’m happy not to touch.  And we get a, well, sort of awkward Kurt and Blaine story.  Truth time - I was really disappointed by this episode first time around, because I wanted it to do more.  It’s grown on me a lot, but I still have a few minor nitpicks about it.  But - the two things that really stand out to me in retrospect are a) this particular story line is more about Blaine than Kurt -- Blaine’s the one going through a transitional period back to Kurt and b) the pacing of their story is fine through the episode - it’s really, unfortunately, the wedding episode the botches the ending.  

Growing Up

It’s nine minutes into the episode before we see our dear Kurt.  A quarter of the episode! Ug!! 

And - it’s Sam who’s carrying Rachel’s emotional baggage this week and dragging Kurt with him.  So, Rachel’s dads are selling the house (which is the reason they got a divorce - so that Rachel is forced to move out and grow up.  Good lord the lengths these writers go to - to teach Rachel a lesson).  Sam goes on about how Rachel’s making a difficult transition into adulthood - one that they’re all going through, but the rest of the characters don’t matter - just Rachel.  She’ll carry this theme for all of them, lol.  

I also love how Glee’s like - okay, bam, Rachel is now dealing with adulthood, as if the past few years haven’t really counted.  But - you know, it’s the end of the series, and that’s when these big life changes actually happen.  

Anyway - anyone up for meta’ing the giant spider on Kurt’s shoulder?  

Wheel of Destiny

So - they interrupt the weekly lesson of Ohio artists (sorry Kitty, no Marilyn Manson for you), so they weekly theme can be transitioning.  Kurt says that sometimes life throws you a curveball and sometimes you just have to go with it. Huh. Foreshadowing? I think so... 

Blaine then goes on this long thing about Rachel having trouble facing adulthood, and how are they going to help her deal? Why - throwing a party because that’s what adults do, lol. 

So.  Picking names out of a hat for duet partners is boring, so Artie constructed a giant wheel of names! I mean, why not - it’s fun.  And it’s Kurt turn! The wheel /almost/ lands on Artie, but Kurt gives destiny a little push and makes it go to Blaine.  And -- just look how shocked he is for that to have happened, lol.  I love this Kurt - manipulating things to turn out how he wants them.  I haven’t seen him pull this kinda thing in a long time, and it’s hilarious and adorable.  You go sing that duet with your sweetheart, Kurt! 

After the meeting - Kurt catches up to Blaine (who is kinda secretly thrilled with Kurt’s meddling).  However - Blaine’s concerned about the whole thing - cause Karofsky might just get jealous.  Kurt thinks that’s silly -- and there’s a little bit of frustration there - cause I mean, Karofsky already has him as a boyfriend, he can’t keep them from being friends, too...  

Blaine states that Karofsky might think there’s something still between them.  And Blaine wants Kurt to say -- why yes, yes there is.  But he doesn’t - cause he feels like Blaine’s made his choice, so really, Kurt needs a sign from Blaine that there isn’t...  Hmmm, I wonder if that’ll happen.  

And then we get this whole awkward hug thing, which Kurt isn’t really sure what to do with.  And I’m not really sure what to do with Kurt’s final reaction here that’s a little -- oh, well, huh, that just happened.  I would have Kurt smile a little at the end of it - but I guess the director wanted to go for ambiguous? 

Which leads me to say this -- this episode I found difficult and unsatisfying the first time I watched it.  It’s grown on me a lot since then, but I think one of the things I was jarred by was that up until this point, we’ve had mainly Kurt’s POV on the whole break up thing - but this episode is nearly all Blaine’s POV.  And I get it, we needed to get him to the point of breaking it off with Karofsky.  But seeing everything through Blaine’s eyes when we’ve been with Kurt so much this season feels like a strange switch up in a few places.  This, I think, is one of them. 

Everyone’s Favorite Gays

So -- Rachel’s party has started, and it must be a different day because Kurt has changed his clothes.  Also - Sam mentions he’s slipped a little something in Kurt’s drink - which is a nod to the fact that he’s over 21 now.  I mean, we were all waiting for that top happen, this is just confirmation. 

I’m also slightly uncomfortable that a group of college students who are acting as teachers and mentors have invited a bunch of high schoolers to a party with alcohol at it - but Glee doesn’t seem to care, so I’ll just look away. It’s not like it’s a plot point.   Though, man, who wouldn’t want to see Drunk!Kurt - that would have been fun. 

Anyway - Mercedes and Roderick sing All About That Bass - and it’s super fun and light.  Kurt’s not in it very much - but he’s bopping along right with Mercedes.  And one point Blaine shuffles over towards him, and they dance together for a hot second - but then Kurt’s mysteriously absent for the last minute or so of the song.  Not sure what happened there. 

So - after a scene of Rachel and Sam hooking up because Rachel’s afraid to leave her childhood behind (um, okay fine) - we get Kurt and Blaine’s duet, which is Somebody Loves You.  And I just love every iota of this song.  The last time either of them sang was that dreary and depressing Carole King song back in Jagged Little Tapestry - now they have a fun, upbeat, song about being there for the person you’re in love with.  

I could pretty much quote all of the lyrics here, oh and here I will... 

Who’s around when the days feel long Who’s around when you can’t be strong Who’s around when you’re losing your mind Who cares that you get home safe Who knows you can’t be replaced Who thinks that you’re one of a kind

Somebody misses you when you’re away They wanna wake up with you everyday Somebody wants to hear you say Ooh somebody loves you Ooh somebody loves you Ooh somebody loves you Ooh somebody loves you Ooh somebody loves you

I’m around when your head is heavy I’m around when your hands aren’t steady I’m around when your day’s gone all wrong I care that you feel at home 'Cause I know that you feel alone I think you’re going to miss me when I’m gone

Somebody misses you when you’re away They wanna wake up with you everyday Somebody wants…

So - the thing I love about this song is that Kurt and Blaine pretty much trade off on all the lines.  But the point is - this song is about both of them, and how they feel about each other.  I love the message of - hey, someone loves you - and they’re going to be there for you when life sucks.  I think especially, I enjoy the part where it says - somebody misses you when you’re away.  Cause I have to wonder if they are back at the point where they miss each other when they’re not around.  

I’d also love to know how they decided this would be a good song to sing.  Cause, seriously boys, serious overtones here, lol.  Plus - I want all the texts and conversations they had about doing the song -- more reconnecting!! 

While this song is one of my favorite Klaine duets - I’m not sure it’s one of my favorite performances.  It’s kinda reminds me of Just Can’t Get Enough - when there’s a ton of other things going on taking away from the Klaine time, lol!  

But importantly - Kurt’s just having a fun time, sing his little heart out, wearing an astronaut costume, and playing with a blue feather boa.  (Oh, the boas are their proposal colors - nice touch props.)  

And of course, during the song -- Blaine is zeroed in on.  He’s getting his heart eyes back - because as Kurt just kind of bops around in (sorta) his own little world - Blaine’s noticing, and falling in love again.  We’re almost there, guys... almost. 

After the show’s over - Blaine decides to get outta there - because the feelings are too much!! But he claims it’s because of a Karofsky reason.  Feeling guilty, Blaine - uh, yeah something like that. 

Anyway, Kurt is a little bummed he has to go.  He had a ton of fun dueting with Blaine, and he’s missed it because they haven’t done it in a while.  (Also a metaphor, people!! okay maybe not - but I’m making it into one.)  Anyway - all this talk brings them back to Baby, It’s Cold Outside - yes, the time they did sound the greatest.  And Kurt admits that way back when - all he wanted was to make out with Blaine. 

It’s a sweet little moment at they remember - and Blaine wonders why he just didn’t kiss him - and Kurt throws out the whole Jeremiah thing (god - you guys remember that??) Well, Kurt and Blaine barely remember that - because Kurt doesn’t remember the dude’s name, and Blaine totally forgot the guy existed.  Because in this moment, they’ve both only got heart eyes for each other. 

Kurt then starts in on how crazy it is that some people mean a lot to you at some point in time -- and then stops.... because Blaine’s lips come crashing to his.  But.. I kind of love this little moment, where - it’s sorta like saying, oh hey, we meant so much to each other, and then you move on, but nope - sometimes some people mean so much to you -- and they still do after all the time that’s passed, and after all the stupid things you’ve done.  

So, um, yeah, Blaine and Kurt are kissing again.  See - the kiss in the elevator? That was a forced thing - and yeah, they felt something, but it wasn’t of their own volition.  This kiss is mostly for Blaine - a chance for him to figure out if what he felt in the elevator was real, or if it was just the heat and the manipulation.  Turns out - oops, yeah, totally still has feelings for Kurt...  And thus, he jets outta there, cause he still, technically, has a boyfriend waiting at home for him - and he really doesn’t need to add another cheating incident.  

Meanwhile - Kurt’s just stunned.  Blaine not reciprocating back is something he was beginning to get used to.  Blaine turned him down when Kurt came back for him.  Blaine was the one that insisted that the elevator kiss meant nothing.  Kurt’s happy that their friendship is back, and all the rest of it he can compartmentalize.  But this?  This is confirmation that Blaine still has feelings, and that’s something huge! 

Kurt’s left kinda stunned - what does all that mean? Why did he do that? Does he want more? Why’d he run off?  Just a lot of things swimming through Kurt’s head as Blaine pretty much runs away.  

I’m okay that Kurt doesn’t run back after him -- this moment is for Blaine to realize his feelings.  Kurt already knows his, and he’s not going to push at Blaine any further than he already has.  

But -- I will say this is where the narrative gets a little clunky heading into the wedding episode.  Blaine’s still got some stuff to do -- mainly break up with Karofsky.  But really, this is the point where Kurt needed to ditch Walter and have a conversation with Blaine about feelings - because clearly feelings are still being had.  Unfortunately, this is not what we get (because Glee needs it’s third party drama).  But I’ll get more into that when it’s more relevant.  

Time After Time

Klaine time is cut short by Rachel and Sam needing to sing 80s love ballads to each other.  And then there’s a whole montage where they all help Rachel take down her memory wall - and this is the closet we get to a clip episode, lol (which is fine - clip episodes are dumb).  

I don’t know what picture Kurt takes down! But, you know, it’s one of those moments where you look back at the old memory and smile, but it’s fine because growing up isn’t a bad thing.  It’s just... different. 

Also Kurt (and Blaine) are helping Rachel move -- I kind of wonder what awkward conversations happened that day that we didn’t get to see, cause we know from Karofsky it’s been a few days since the party before they break up.  Ug, Glee, all these untapped things... 

The Break-Up

Obviously, Kurt’s not in this scene, but I feel the need to go over it, because it does, in part, pertain to Kurt.  And because I think it’s a nice scene.  I’m going to give Karofsky a little bit of credit here, and say he isn’t entirely dumb.  He knows Blaine’s been acting weird, and he’s known that since Kurt’s been back in town, their relationship wouldn’t last that much longer.  (So then why did you move in with him, weirdo?)  

Blaine’s been feeling guilty - because Karofsky turned out to be an okay guy, and Blaine had convinced himself that he really had moved on past Kurt.  Well, no, everyone and Karofsky could see otherwise.  And Karofsky is pretty nice about the whole thing (which I think is to show just how much Karofsky has grown, too, over the years).  He’s got a whole bunch of guys ready and willing to date him.  It’ll suck - but Blaine can’t change his heart and more than Kurt can.  So Karofsky let’s him go. 

I think one of the interesting things in this conversation, is that Karofsky tells Blaine to just tell Kurt, not sing it.  And I feel like that goes with the whole growing up theme.  A lot of the time, these boys have sung their emotions through song - and that’s fine, but it’s also been part of the fantasy -- but part of the Klaine narrative has been a shift from fantasy to reality, and this is one of the last parts.  And Blaine’s ready to take that step - to grow up and be a real boy, and be okay in his not-ever-changing feelings towards Kurt.  

So - Blaine gets running and goes for Kurt.  How does he know Kurt’s there? Is this just after school? Why is Walter meeting him there of all places? Idk - the set up of this scene is a little awkward when you thinking about it too much, but I’m really not supposed to.  

The point is -- Blaine is ready to confess his love to Kurt -- again.  He even wears the bowtie he wore at the proposal (do you think Kurt didn’t notice that? He did).  But --- one awkward little thing.  Kurt’s about to go on a double date with Walter, Rachel, and Sam.  

So Blaine -- doesn’t say anything.  And actually -- this is a good thing for Blaine! Honestly, it is -- it shows growth.  He let his life be dictated by his relationship with Kurt once, and he’s going to do what he didn’t before -- let go and let it be.  It’s not an appropriate time for Blaine to tell Kurt that he and Karofsky broke up.  But even more so, it’s also not his place to intervene in Kurt’s dating life and more than it was Kurt’s to intervene in his relationship with Karofsky.  Blaine’s trying to give Kurt the space he hadn’t given Kurt before.  

Kurt lingers just a little as they all head out.  He knows Blaine’s lying about being there for Rachel.  There’s a little bit of longing there, and a lot of concern.  And oh the angst is hard core in this moment, as Blaine just stands their alone.  

Kurt knows and is aware that Blaine’s feeling something.  He’s ready for Blaine to say something.  Look, Walter does not matter (and by the sound of it, Kurt’s been talking to Walter a lot about Blaine - since Walter clearly knows who he is, and is slightly feigning politeness when Blaine shows up).  But Kurt’s ditched both Chandler and Adam pretty quickly for Blaine, and he’ll do it again with Walter.  

Just this scene -- isn’t the right time.

This scene, actually, works for me pretty well  - and I’m not frustrated with this episode like I was when I first saw it, because this is the transition episode, it’s supposed to end on this angsty note.  My issues are really with the beginning of the wedding episode.  It’s clear they wanted them both to have a run to the other moment - and sure, Kurt will do that -- but Kurt lacks a defining catalyst for him to do that, which makes it feel a bit awkward and weird.  But, I’ll dig into that in the next episode. 

Turning the Corner

I am not going to comment about the Beiste story line - because I don’t have an opinion on it, nor do I think it’s my place to have an opinion on it.  But it’s nice that the trans choir had a chance in the spotlight on this show - and it really is a lovely moment.  Kurt and Co are off to the side cheering them along.  

Hey! It’s Kurt and a piano - I kinda like that that’s still a thing.  

I don’t have a whole lot to say about this scene - I feel like Will coming back to McKinley marks the beginning of the end for the narrative focus on Kurt this season.  Even this scene is really more about the dynamic of Will and Rachel - Kurt just kinda happens to be there.  

But, I mean, part of the whole transition theme is to get these guys in position to wrap up their story.  Will is going to be back at McKinley, while Kurt and Rachel go off to do what they’re supposed to do. 

The best part of this little ending scene, however, is the last bit.  First of all, Kurt can’t call Will ‘Will’ - because that would be weird. (Just the way Chris says it cracks me up).  And then Kurt wants to do a Britney 3.0 week? Really Kurt? Really?  And then Will asks if the kids have emotional issues, and Kurt’s like - yeah, I don’t get involved in that.  BECAUSE SERIOUSLY HAVE SOME DISTANCE BETWEEN YOU AND YOUR KIDS WILL!! 

But yeah - it’s a little bittersweet of a moment as we wrap up a lot of what I liked about the season to move on to things I’m not as fond of.  Ah well.  :) 

[benhaardy]

May I have a ship from both Queen and bohrap?? I have long brown hair and hazel eyes and Im 5’4. I love playing guitar/ukulele and painting/drawing. I love to travel and do road trips whenever I can, and hang out with my friends. Im also a little shy at first but after you get to know me Im really outgoing and goofy. I also really love to read, dance to music, and watch movies :)

i ship you with BEN and BRIAN!

(whos tied for cutest with the queen peeps and the borhap peeps?) ^ 

you guys met when you were on a road trip w friends and you guys went to some house party thrown by someone one of them knew. you noticed that cute blonde and they could all tell: u got the hotssss. you were lowkey scared so one of them went up to him (“his name is ben!!!” they mouthed, winking, leading ben by his wrist to meet you) and once you broke the ice, you both hit it off

guitar and ukelele. big big YES!! he loves listening to you play always. it’s just very relaxing to him after a long day filming, going upstairs to find you just in your guys’ room, playing with either. he always has a request for a song for you to learn and usually it’s one completely out of the blue (you didn’t know his music taste was that different but hey. just another interesting thing about him lol) but totally worth it in the end because they’re usually beautiful.

ben this for me, will you, baby? | ben link to the tab* | next day | mrs. hardy

sooooo you learn it. and you love it. and when he comes back home from set you guys get upstairs and he just plops down on the bed on his belly and closes his eyes. he doesn’t hear you come in with your guitar but when you sit down on the bed he doesn’t respond. you start playing what you learned while he was away. once ben hears it, he rolls over on his back and opens one eye, smiling at you.

his deep ass voice trying to sing this song very high is hilarious and a sound to hear. you both laugh once you conclude, his more of a coughing fit from the pitch which made you laugh even more

“it’s all i could listen to when i was away, love.” he props up on his elbow and moves a piece of hair from out of your eyes. “it reminded me of you.”

ben’s just a witty sarcastic good and his dry humor is something you enjoy. safe to say this boy with not too many smiles is ever-smiling around you. he loves your infectious goofy personality and can’t help but come out of his little shell.

you two often take frankie to dog friendly cafes. while she and ben are probably meeting a lifetimes worth of friends, you’re just sitting in an armchair, reading and every once in a while you look up and see your dog-ter and ya boy just having a blast with the others (ben having his time w the dogs and frankie fawning over the humans)

speaking of frankie: she stays w his parents when you guys go on your trips and such and you guys are off! you usually rent a car in this new place and just take it around. the best was probably when you guys drove around pretty much everywhere in the us and europe during the summer and practically lived out of hotels and cars and a new place every week.

(slow dancing at 2 am in a fancy hotel in new york: priceless)

(at a fairy light and candlelit special little place tucked away somewhere in italy slow dancing barefoot: I M P E C C A B L E)

ofc during the lulls in life and your travels, you drew and when you could, painted. ben loves being your model and plays around at first, but he puts on a serious face for you to draw.

you watch his work during road trips and he teases you about it so you just switch to another movie once you notice that he’s looked on your tablet/phone before he could open his mouth.

eyes!!!! he loves your eyes!!!! and your hair but your eyes are just his favourite.

they’re so cute ahh!!

yall met at a studio where you were playing as a session artist for a band. word had gotten around the place that there was a new very talented guitarist in town who had been recording with pretty much anyone new and old on the scene. you didn’t know but the guys were watching you from behind the glass as you were working with the other members, faced away from queen. you played a riff and recorded a bit and then you took a break. you walked through the door and surprise! the biggest artists that recorded at this studio were right in front of you, including your music and um uhhhh maybe celebrity crush brian may???? you introduced yourselves (and mayyybee your hands shook as you shook bri’s hand which was btw the first and last time that ever happened when you met someone).

“brian here has a little crush on you, darling!” freddie exclaimed, interrupting you and bri’s conversation. roger and john’s snickers were heard from them on the couch, lounging. “freddie?!”

spoiler alert: freddie was very right.

though he’s normally pretty quiet, you bring out a louder side in him where his voice doesnt sound ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵗʰᶦˢ all gentle and shit but just louder! ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs!

guitar, stringed instruments, music: you two love, of course. you both often jammed together and composed together. your house was basically the studio or your guys’ music room. you each had your own guitars (and you have some ukeleles) and there’s always one in every room.

“hm, what about this, love?” *plays super complex shit on the spot and on one try and doesn’t fuck up and doesn’t sound bad even though it’s basically made the second it has to be played* “dude. c’mon.” you pout. “don’t worry, lovely, maybe one day you’ll be this good.” you roll your eyes but bri being bri he immediately starts apologizing and puts his guitar back down on the stand. he puts his arm around you like a loose headlock. “you will be this good and greater. i’m sure of it, love.”

(if that doesn’t make sense you’re used to having a lot of tries to perfect your stuff and you’re basically working on improvising more)

when you’re done for the day and he’s just sitting on the ground w his guitar and you’re on the couch, you like drawing him. bri’s face is just like. a wonder. and he doesn’t think he deserves a drawing (“it’s too much work, darling, you don’t have to!”) but you win. every. time.

one of your anniversary gifts to him was this sketchbook filled with finished and half-finished drawings, most of him. there are little-unfinished song lyrics all about, little love notes and scrawlings and quotes from your favourite books around his curls, around your drawings. you wrote him a long letter telling him about everything.

gatherings with friends!! as you travel, you meet new ones but your old ones come along with you on trips sometimes and it’s all just fun. they love bri and am so happy for you that you’ve found someone like this.

(also when they met queen they all shit their pants)

you love dragging him to movies and normally he doesn’t know if he’ll like it but in the middle, you look over and he’s shoveling his vegetarian snacks you snuck in in your bag into his mouth.

he likes playing with your hair like you like playing with his. it started out as teasing you for how much you’re in his hair but it’s actually a little calming.

lol kinda went overboard on the music but like. music man its beautiful. i kind of left out ukelele a bit i apologize! thank you for sending in a request i hope you like it!

SHIPS ARE CLOSED!

[flakandforay]

Singularity Theory

overall: thanks bighit for dropping this out of nowhere despite the fact that i have work the next day, totally fine. honestly i just love this whole vibe of it help. but moving on, i cant just enjoy the song without looking at the whole MV. 

everyone knew that the intro is titled singularity and due to my previous hunch in the LY Intro Theory, it would be done by Taehyung which we all found out to be true. but moving on, regardless, everything in this video is important regardless to help us understand the HYYH series.

warnings: death, mentions of blood etc, please do read with care

theory: well, when everyone thought that we are done with the HYYH series, bighit proves that we aren’t even done with it, not even one bit. in a way, this video could be seen as a standalone since there aren't much relations, but do stay tuned as i uncover the relations. 

not especially when they released the album covers of the Love Yourself Tear Album, and we see this continuation of the flowers with Love Yourself Her Album as well, notice how they actually fit. 

also, take a look at the Y version of LY Tear, there is a line that would most likely connect to the last instalment of the LY Series to spell S, E, L, F. 

also, notice that in LY Tear, the flowers have untangled themselves, as if to say that this is the end, this is how they are ruined by love; how they are now facing singularity which later could be seen as loneliness. 

i found this on twitter (ctto), that, if you like at the flowers again, it spells out  ‘Tear’; yes to the graphic designs ???

but moving on, this intro, Singularity is done by Taehyung that has a nice jazz, slow burn vibe to it. full analysis of it right here.

but let’s start off with the meaning of Singularity. 

Singularity = the state, fact, quality, or condition of being singular. 

Reference 

hence it could be interpreted as loneliness, especially loneliness after a relationship has ended and has been well conveyed throughout the whole mv of Singularity; right from the props itself and his acting. 

notice how the props that Taehyung uses are clothestand, though i know it’s a choreography done by Keone Madrid but the fact that he portrayed the ex-lover as a clothestand, and that he portrays the same intimate, sensual feelings with an inanimate object eg. the clothestand.

according to this tweet, Namjoon was the one behind these lyrics for Singularity, writing them after he was discharged from the hospital since he had a recent surgery.  hence the depth of the lyrics brings one to places for sure.

anyway, notice how everyone was shocked to see that this intro had a choreography just like boy meets evil. based on this tweet, it has been revealed that bighit actually teased us during the 2017 MMA, in which it featured Taehyung dancing to the same intro routine with the back up dancers.

thanks bighit for the unnoticeable hint. everyone thought it was just part of the dance and performance. 

moving on, remember i said that they are several parallels to DNA, I Need U Jp, BST, BST JP. , Wings Concert Trailer etc, here’s how.

with DNA, the same kind of wide set

with I Need U JP, and the use of flowers, specifically flora.

BST, and the same kind of neon pink filter, during the 2nd chorus of BST to match Singularity. 

BST JP, with those filters seen again here. 

not to mention the Wings Concert Trailer together with BST, them with the dripping ink from their eyes.

yet, apart from this, it’s interesting how ink comes out of one eye, as if they're crying. i would like to assume that this idea or concept is somewhat similar to the Weeping Statue ( i mean this could be far-fetched, but consider it as my personal opinion )

a weeping statue = statue which has been claimed to be shedding tears or weeping by supernatural means. Statues weeping tears of a substance which appears to be blood, oil, and scented liquids have all been reported. Other claimed phenomena are sometimes associated with weeping statues such as miraculous healing, the formation of figures in the tear lines, and the scent of roses.

Reference

keywords from here, are statues weeping tears of oil etc and scented liquids ( possibly paint, ink ? ) just like these scenes above but also the fact that it has to do with the scent of roses etc ( just like the one in Singularity )

however, for eg. the meaning of the Virgin Mary weeping is as such.

Some believe that because of the state of the world has caused the Virgin Mary to weep tears of blood because of all the losses of life.

Reference 

yet, i find it interesting that out of everyone, only Taehyung had the mask on with the ink dripping from the eye as compared to Jungkook and Jimin. as if to say that Jungkook and Jimin are weeping because of the losses of life of the other boys but for Taehyung’s case, it is from the mask, to say that another identity of him is weeping but not really him. 

remember how in Euphoria, the storyline of HYYH changed, and so he isnt exactly weeping, he is just putting a facade. 

i mean, then again, at 0:36, there is this scene of Taehyung extending his hand to get attention and it just reminds me of their Wings VCR Concert Trailer as if Taehyung is trying to get out and escape; that same vibe.

then, notice how he is wearing the Gucci earring called Loved. the fact that the earring is ‘Loved’ since to say that he is no longer in a relationship, he used to love someone, he is lonely now; in the singularity phase. 

notice how there is this quick scene of the roses. 

as such, the flowers here are mostly to blue and lavender, faint pink possibly.

naturally, there are meanings to the colours of the roses. so, i did some research and here is what i got.

Lavender = Love at first sight or just an enchanting way to say, "I love you!" Lavender roses can offer a daily reminder of your love and eagerness to grow your relationship.

Pink = Words like admiration, gentleness, grace, gladness, joy and sweetness are just a few ways to describe the meaning behind the pink rose. A pink rose can also convey happiness, gracefulness and admiration.

Blue = symbols of love, prosperity, or immortality.

Based on another website, Blue = the impossible, or the unattainable. Since the blue rose itself is a rarity in nature, it stands for something that is hardly within one's grasp, an object that seems too difficult to be achieved. Thus the blue rose is admired and revered as an unrealizable dream.

Reference: here, here and here. 

so based on this, it is safe to say that these flowers represent unattainable love, love that was impossible especially if it was fake love as what has been hinted during the 2017 year-end shows. 

notice how this is specifically for the scenes of Taehyung and Seokjin just like how the whole HYYH series revolves around yet again. 

not to mention how the lavender represents ‘love at first sight’ as what bangtan have been promoting in their Love Yourself Her Album, especially in DNA, in which it is in their DNA upon seeing their loved one during the first time, it is fate, it is destiny, and it is not a coincidence. 

첫눈에 널 알아보게 됐어 서롤 불러왔던 것처럼 내 혈관 속 DNA가 말해줘 내가 찾아 헤매던 너라는 걸

=

I recognized you as soon as I saw you As if we’ve called each other The DNA in my blood is telling me That it’s you who I’ve been looking for

Reference: Colour Coded ©

but also, i found another meaning of the blue rose and i think it is really befitting. 

The meaning of the blue rose could also be in sync with the quote which goes, "some doors should never be opened."

Reference

so in a way, as if to say, one shouldnt fall in love in the first place, to protect yourself from all the negative feelings and singularity that would come when the relationship crumbles down. 

but anyway, moving on, within these scenes, it seems as though Taehyung seems to be carrying a Smeraldo flower. 

remember prior to the LY Her album, there was the Smeraldo blog that was active but is now closed. ( translations of some of the Smeraldo blog posts here ) 

also, the Smeraldo flower is actually a flower created by a man, it wasn't originally grown by mother nature or anything. it’s meaning is ‘The truth I couldn’t tell.’ 

remember how at the end of the Euphoria video, Jungkook asked Seokjin, “Brother, is that everything? Aren’t you hiding something more from us?”

and then, these few scenes where Taehyung looks up at Seokjin as if to say he knows the whole truth, so maybe he didnt even forget in the first place, but he doesn't seem to confront Seokjin about it; most likely the other boys dont know what’s going on, or even if they do, i guess they haven't had it all figured out yet; maybe just some hints that things aren't the same since in the Euphoria world, the timeline changed (Euphoria theory here).

sidetracking back to Taehyung wearing the mask in Singualrity, one could also consider this as he is actually weeping since he knew what Seokjin is doing but given that the rest doesnt know, so he tries to hide his true feelings. 

but moving on, i like to bring up the point of the whole ‘frozen lake’ metaphor in the lyrics of Singularity. 

이얼어 붙은 호수에 또 금이 가 그 호수에 내가 날 버렸 잖아 내 목소릴 널 위해 묻었 잖아

=

A crack again on this frozen lake I dumped myself into the lake I buried my voice for you Over the winter lake I was thrown

보지만 결국 엔 언젠가 봄이와 얼음들은 녹아 내려 흘러 가

=

But in the end, spring will come someday The ice will melt and flow away

Reference: Genius 

it’s not a common metaphor, but i did some research, and this is what i found. 

“Your frozen lake is the name for what you want most in the world. And you want it. You want it so bad that you’ll do anything to get it and your heart takes over. But because of that it destroys you in the end. It’s right there sitting in the middle of the frozen lake. And you think you’re fast enough to go out there and grab it before the ice cracks

And what you don’t realize is you’re already standing on the ice and it’s falling apart around you.”

-K. Blye & M. Deeks

Reference

notice how the fact that the frozen lake metaphor is used to say that in between, everything else around you is crumbling, falling apart much like the relationship that has just ended. 

hence these scenes.

then it also shows how Taehyung is now touching the so called melted frozen lake, to which he sees his own reflection, as if to say that everything has already fallen apart, and now he realises that he is in singularity. 

notice how familiar this is with Hoseok in BST ( read my Taehyung and Hoseok’s pairing theory here )

but what’s interesting is that remember in BST, it ended with Seokjin’s face being cracked, and everyone got a shock because why would they do that to his face.

but now it kinda makes sense, because think of it as now Seokjin has realised that everything surrounding him would crumble and fall apart, hence maybe why he now tries to go back and correct the mistakes, creating parallel worlds, despite knowing he would sacrifice himself eg. Euphoria 

moving on, im going to go back to the lyrics, and notice how it brings the idea of the phantom. 

잠시 들어간 꿈 속에도 나를 괴롭히는 환상 통은 여전해

=

In the dream I shortly went into My agonizing phantom pain is still the same

Reference: Genius

when they brought up the phantom in verse 2, one would see the whole mask aesthetic.

honestly, i thought they were doing some kind of Jabawockeez thing but of course with this style of music, it’s not likely. so my next guess, would be the Phantom of the Opera by Andrew Lloyd Webber. ( a classic )

The Phantom of the Opera talks about a lady named Christine who then grew up in the theatre scene, though she wasn't outright a singer, since she was young, she has been receiving lessons of music by the ‘Angel of Music’ who was none other than the Phantom himself. 

see, he was a man who had a disfigured face, hence the mask to cover his flaws. but as time passes, he grew infatuated and loved Christine though of course Christine didnt really feel the same way since she had someone else named Raoul. 

but apart from this plot, the Phantom was known to be the one lurking in the Opera house etc but more importantly, he was a musical genius, composing great operas. the Phantom was known to have experienced unrequited love but more importantly, loneliness, otherwise could be interpreted as Singularity. he has lived a life where many fear him, many have not seen him either, hence many would not love him at all.

with his disfigured face, when he was young, he was most likely not treated well, hence no compassion or a sense of empathy or love shown to him which was why towards the end of the Phantom of the Opera,

Raoul finds the lair and attempts to persuade the Phantom to spare Christine, begging him to show compassion. The Phantom refuses, and captures Raoul with the Punjab lasso. The Phantom tells Christine that he will free Raoul if she agrees to stay with him forever, but if she refuses, Raoul will die. Christine, heartbroken, tells the Phantom that it is his soul that is deformed, not his face. As the Phantom and Raoul both plead to her, Christine mournfully wonders what kind of life the Phantom has known. She tells the Phantom that he is not alone and kisses him, showing him compassion for the first time in his life. The Phantom, having experienced kindness at last, understands that he cannot compel Christine to love him, and sets them both free. Raoul hurries Christine out of the lair, but she returns alone to give the Phantom back his ring. The Phantom tells Christine he loves her, before she tearfully exits with Raoul. The weeping Phantom huddles on his throne and covers himself with his cloak. The mob, led by Meg, enters the lair. Meg pulls the Phantom's cloak from the throne, finding only his mask on the seat. She lifts the mask up into the light and gazes at it in wonder as the curtain falls.

Reference: Wikipedia; Synopsis

so here in a way, it is as if the Phantom has finally accepted his fate of not being loved by Christine but sets her free. perhaps this could be the next hint for Love Yourself Answer which would be the final instalment of this whole series. 

i did some research on the significance of the mask in the Phantom of the Opera

The short answer is this: the motivation for every event set in motion is the severe, present-from-birth facial deformity of the Phantom; the deformity that he wears the mask to conceal. He was actually forced to wear it as a child, since in the mid-1800s(and quite a bit later), an accident of birth like that was often seen as a devil's curse, a sign of uncleanliness, or similarly dark circumstances. Over his lifetime, the mask became the symbol of all the hatred and condemnation he'd gotten from everyone around him, as well as the place to hide that disfigurement. Crutch and shield and prison and symbol.

Reference 

notice how the phrase devil’s curse is used, hence relating back to my Jungkook HYYH: the Notes theory  especially since in the HYYH notes: L Version, it seems as though Taehyung had a hard time starting with his own family. 

Taehyung 29 December YEAR 10

I took my shoes and threw my bag and went into the main room. My father was really there. I didn’t think of how long he was going to return or where he had been. I only raced recklessly into his embrace. I don’t remember clearly afterwards. Whether it was the smell of alcohol, the cursing or the slap to my cheek. I didn’t know what was going on. He reeked of alcohol and his pants were foul. His eyes were bloodshot and his beard was growing wildly. He hit my face with his large hand. He asked what I was looking at. He then lifted me in the air. His crimson eyes were frightening but I was so terrified that I couldn’t even cry. This wasn’t my father. No, this is my father. But then again, he wasn’t. My two feet shoot in the air. In the next moment, my head crashed hard into the wall and I slumped to the floor. It was as if my head exploded. My vision flickered and I blinked a few times. My head was filled with the sound of my father’s harsh breathing.

i love how vast and ambiguous all these scenes were, even more so when there were these few scenes that only showed certain angles of Taehyung’s face as if the rest of his face was covered by a flaw.

but lastly, this scene has got me thinking why it was there in the first place. 

this scene only came for 1 second before the video transited to something else. im not exactly sure what this is, but i would safely assume it would be a reference to the whole frozen lake thing, the one where Taehyung finds himself in the dream.

but anyway, i do think that Singularity has some hints to offer, but of course, aesthetics, music, lyrics and choreography, thank you Taehyung for pulling this off so well, i can’t wait for what bangtan has in store for us. 

so what’s next?  

[Photo Source] Bighit Entertainment  Credits: maxine ☕️ DO NOT REPOST ©

[mel-the-fangirl]

Lovestruck

Tom Holland x Reader

Words: 2,180

Requested: Nope

I wrote this on a whim at 2am, based on a song by The Vamps of the same name. I really, really hope you guys like it!  

(I also haven’t proofread this carefully, so please excuse some mistakes.)

—————————————————————

Heavy footfalls upon the concrete pavement, muttered “excuse me’s” and “I’m sorry’s”, the crisp autumn air filling his lungs as he rushed past the busy London streets. This is what Tom’s Sundays consisted of as of late.

He had to get to that little café at just the right time or else…

It was as if he could feel the minutes ticking away as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him. God, he hoped…

Finally! Just at the end of the street was his destination. Just a bit more!

Tom all but hurled himself through the door, leaving the city behind him. The change in environment was a striking one, the aroma of freshly ground coffee and subtle notes of spices and peppermint hung in the air just enough to pique your interest and order a beautifully made beverage from the friendly baristas, a stark contrast from the smell of exhaust fumes and stale liquor that lingered just outside the wood panelled door.

The lighting inside the establishment was subdued and relaxing lounge music drifted gently from the speakers. Patrons from all sides of London sat and had a chat far away from the somewhat daunting world outside. Those were a few of the things Tom loved about this café, it was also quite near to where he lived.

He was trying desperately to ignore the blatant fact that he sprinted all the way there just to catch a glimpse of the girl at the corner table. As he stood in line, he inconspicuously craned his neck to survey the room just to make it look like he was people watching, and perhaps, to some extent, he was. It’s just that there was only one particular person he was interested in watching.

You.

Everyday since he came back from another one of his projects, Tom had been coming to this café, the way he saw it, he was here first. He didn’t plan the whole thing, that out of nowhere you were suddenly the main reason he was willing to run the miles from his house to there.

It just sort of turned out that way.

After how many days of quietly observing you from afar, one day, he just found the courage to sit at the table next to yours. When he heard Wonderwall bleeding through your headphones, it made him smile, but when you began singing the wrong lyrics to yourself with such a passion, that’s when he was hooked.

Day after day he would come at a particular time just to see you for the few hours that you stayed. He left when you did, saying a silent goodbye when you parted ways at the door. Tom has already admitted to himself that the whole thing was rather silly but, he couldn’t do anything about it, he didn’t want to do anything about it.

Until today, that is.

Today, Tom decided that he was finally going to speak to you and maybe, with a great deal of confidence, ask you out.

If only he could spot you. Your table was empty as far as he could see.

That was odd.. You were usually in at this time, he was sure, he had it down to a science.

“You’re up next.” a tiny voice called from behind, startling him

“I’m sorry?” Tom looked behind him to see none other than you, his enigmatic headphone girl

“You’re up next.” you repeated, nodding your head towards the waiting barista at the counter

All the colour drained from Tom’s face as he found himself right in front of you. But he had to move, he didn’t want to seem like a total creep which was exactly what he felt he was turning into.

He walked almost unsteadily to the barista and ordered his usual latte. The counter right beside him opened up and he felt you brush against his back as you made your way over, electricity ran up his spine at the slight contact.

“What the fuck?” Tom was mentally kicking himself over and over for acting like such a lovestruck fool

But even so, he still found himself straining his ears to listen in on your order. As you relayed what you wanted, Tom couldn’t help but wonder why you preferred what you preferred and why the corner table? What could you see from there that you couldn’t see when you were seated somewhere else?

“Sir?” the barista held Tom’s latte up to him, taking note of his odd behaviour

Tom was knocked back into reality and he nodded hastily. “Right. Thank you, that’s perfect. ”

In the middle of all his musings about you, he completely forgot to get himself a table.

“Hey.” someone tapped him gently on the shoulder

He didn’t need to turn his head to know that it was you, he could still feel his shoulder tingling where you touched him.

“Uh, yeah?” Tom scratched the back of his neck when you finally moved to stand in front of him.

Oh, you were so beautiful. He always noticed that about you, no matter how hard you tried to hide behind your curtain of hair and the different books you’d have with you when he saw you.

“Well, um, I was just wondering if you’d like to sit with me?” you asked as nonchalantly as you could when you were faced with a handsome guy (which wasn’t as nonchalant as you would’ve liked)

Tom picked up on your nervousness and he was glad he wasn’t the only one who felt like he was floundering about like a fish out of water but he had to give you props for hiding it better.

“Oh! Uh,” he looked around to confirm what he already knew. God, why was he being such an awkward ass?

“Yes. Thank you.”

You nodded, turning on your heel to lead him to your usual table which was the only empty table in the place. The baristas knew your routine so they made sure your table was just for you, considering that you’ve been a loyal customer of theirs, they figured it was the least they could do.

He watched you as you took a seat, blending in perfectly with the setting around you. There was some sort of glow wrapped around you, Tom wasn’t sure if it was the light or if he was just fully going insane now but you looked like an angel against the beige coloured walls adorned with picture frames that held pictures of coffee beans and different coffee-related quotes.

The sound of someone clearing their throat startled Tom. His cheeks burned when he realised he’d just been standing there and staring at you for the past few minutes. Almost abruptly, he dragged the dark oak chair backward and plopped his butt down, nearly spilling his latte all over the front of his jeans.

An unattractive little snort escaped your lips and you tried to cover it up with a cough. The handsome stranger in front of you looked up at the sound and you dropped your eyes to the drink in your hand.

“Sorry.” you mumbled, slipping on your headphones in an attempt to drown out the usual sounds of the café and the heat you felt coming from those brown eyes seated in front of you

With your headphones secured and (almost) everything blocked out, you buried your nose in your latest read, effectively shielding your face from your handsome stranger.

Tom visibly sagged upon seeing you put up your usual defenses. How was he going to talk to you now? When he stepped through the doors earlier, he’d just been so preoccupied with making sure he’d catch you in time that he never came up with a solid plan on how to ask you out, he didn’t think he’d get this far.

Now, faced with the exact opportunity, he had nothing. He could only sit with you, reading the cover of your book over and over again, wishing it was your eyes he could lose himself in instead.

After what felt like hours of listening to the usual humdrum goings-on of the café, Tom finally felt himself lose his nerve.

This was pathetic! He was freaking Spider-man for God’s sake! A dorkier, less intimidating version but still Spider-man! That had to count for something, hell, it counted for everything!

Without Tom’s knowledge, you were watching him from above the top edge of your book. What on earth was he doing? Was the new Spider-man actor actually a weirdo? Did you invite a weirdo to sit with you? You watched as he began mumbling to himself, his face flickering through different emotions.

Until finally, he looked up. You had just a few seconds to set your eyes back on the pages of your book, cheeks heating up again. You hoped with everything you had that he didn’t see you peeking at him like a creep.

Was it creepy that you asked him to sit with you?

Did he already think you were a creep?

You weren’t even reading your book anymore, your eyes were glossed over the page. Your thoughts were swirling around and around that you didn’t notice that he had begun speaking to you.

“Uh, excuse me?” Tom called to you to no avail

He looked around the crowded café in desperation. He finally decided to knock on the book you were using to shield your face like he would a door.

The book nearly fell out of your hands but you gripped it tight. Shivers of anticipation ran up and down your spine as you lowered your headphones and looked at the young actor seated in front of you.

“Excuse me, miss,” Tom began, flashing you a nervous smile

All you could do was smile back. The films didn’t do him justice, he was even cuter in person. Especially since he was nervous.

“I, uh, I must admit I don’t do this. At all.” he placed his arms on the table, gripping his cup in both hands

He watched your pretty face as an eyebrow quirked up. There was still some time, he could still drop the whole thing.

His stomach was beginning to tie itself in knots and his hands were getting clammier with each passing second that you looked at his face.

Never, in his life, has Tom ever felt this nervous about asking a girl out.

“You’ll have to excuse me. I’m really nervous.” he struggled to continue

“Nervous about what?” you finally spoke up

Here we go..

“I just.. Had to ask if you had dinner plans?”

He was asking you to dinner?

You couldn’t say a word, you could only stare at him in complete shock. What on earth was Tom Holland doing asking you out?

Tom felt his heart beat pick up as you continued to stare at him, eyes almost about to pop right out of your head.

“I mean! I mean, it’s okay if-if you’ve got a man. I mean it was silly of me to assume you were single, you’re beautiful,” he backtracked

“Beautiful?” you echoed, not believing your ears

“Wait, no. That’s not what I meant, I mean! -Jesus fucking Christ- You are beautiful.” he took a deep breath to calm himself. “If you happen to be unattached, I hope you’d consider going to dinner.”

There it was. Tom’s deep brown eyes flitted to yours anxiously, looking for signs of anything good, anything in his favour.

“Why are you asking me out? You don’t know me, I don’t know you. I know of you but…” you trailed off, not even sure what to say next. It wasn’t everyday that you had handsome young actors asking you out to dinner, completely out of nowhere

“I’m pretty sure I could sit here all day just for a ‘maybe’ from you.” the corners of Tom’s lips quirked up upon seeing your cheeks flush for the n-th time

You covered your face with your hands to try and put a lid on what you were feeling. Tom, on the other hand, was feeling absolutely mortified. What was he even thinking?

He stood up and muttered an apology he wasn’t even sure you heard, it was unlike him but he really just needed to get out of there, to save the both of you from further embarrassment.

Tom hadn’t even made five steps away from the table when you called out,

“Hey!”

“Yes?” he stepped toward you, gripping his now empty coffee cup in his hands

You looked up at him, disbelief laced with a twinge of humour lighting up your eyes. The little smirk playing on your lips was infectious, he couldn’t help smirking back at you but his eyes were a bit more earnest, afraid even.

“Where do you think you’re going, Tom Holland?”

A sigh of pure relief escaped his lips but he remained rooted to his spot, heart pounding with anticipation

You gestured boldly to the seat in front of you, watching as his eyes lit up.

 “I thought I had the whole day?”

—————————————————————

permanent taglist: @theholyholland, @optimisticbee, @johnxstilinski, @lyssamorgan, @osterfield-holland, @planet-holland-writing, @draqcnheartstrinq, @leahhensonx, @twong2001, @cubedtriangle, @sebenagomez, @aussie-mantle, @the-crime-fighting-spider, @writerunhuman, @monicaagraz

(please message me if you’d like to be added!)

[its-harrypooter]

modern marauders: theatre AU part 1

hey guys I felt inspired after listening to the entire Dear Evan Hansen soundtrack so here is a “brief” headcanon on the marauders and theatre:

Requested: No Part: 1/?

james has been talking about auditioning for the next production for a while. it may or may not be because lily evans is stage director. the other marauders laugh but still encourage him to go for it, sure he’ll fail and/or embarrass himself.

james picks up a script from the director and practices in their dorm at all times of the day. after hearing the script three times, sirius starts quoting it, and has learnt more than james.

sirius starts teasing james that he’ll go against him for the lead. after standing on the gryffindor table in the great hall and belting the lyrics to the audition song to everyone at breakfast (and surprisingly getting a lot of compliments for it), he decides to audition 

tensions run high as both sirius and james start practicing. to spite james, sirius asks lily to run lines with him. james retalliates by telling the director sirius wants to be the love interest of the lead. Peter asks lily if he can join the stage crew.

on audition day, both james and sirius audition for the lead role. they havent spoken in a week. lily sits with the director and judges them. she smiles when sirius walks on stage, knowing how hard he’s worked. james is furious, scowling as he watches sirius butcher the audition song

they both stomp out of the theatre, refusing to speak. the cast list is posted two days later, and they both race to find out who got the role. both of them physically deflate when they see the name.

REMUS?! they both scream. remus walks down the hall calmly, just checking if he actually got the role

he’s very startled when he sees he’s got the lead

James and sirius demand answers, and finally speak to one another again (that is before james points out sirius got the lead as remus’ love interest) sirius sputters and gasps; he didn’t even audition for that role! 

he's very confused, before he sees that james’ name isn’t even on the list, his audition did not go well; he forgot his lines and is not a good singer at the best of times

instead, james’ name is flagged as “lighting and tech, to report to Lily Evans”

james is more rapt with that than he would have been if he’d been given the lead

during practices, james mucks around with the lights, mostly on purpose, partly because he has no idea what he’s doing, just so evans can go over the lights AGAIN

Pete is mostly unseen during rehearsals, but he is heard, as he keeps dropping props and bumping into sets

they all hear remus’ voice for the first time, and realise he was probably a better lead than either james or sirius, but sirius would never admit it

lily hangs out in the lighting box most of the time, because that’s the only place severus can’t find her and ask her a million more questions about his sets and costumes

james loves it, he jokes and makes her laugh, until he misses his queue and she doesnt talk to him for half an hour so he can focus

sirius, at first, refuses to play the love interest the way its written, swaggering around the stage and saying things like “this is ridiculous” after all of his lines

after a few practices, he gets really into it, and doesnt even need his script, he’s spent most of his afternoons memorising all of his lines and stage directions

one practice, james is not needed with the lights, because they’re just doing a props and set run-through with the full cast, so lily asks if she can practice some of the makeup on him. james, of course, says yes.

she blabbers on about running the production, and how the director does NOTHING except auditions, and just sits there while lily does everything else, and how the hair and makeup girls were absent and barely ever showed up, and how she had to practically beg Marlene to help out on the night (the agreement was; she wouldn't have to attend any rehearsals other than the dress rehearsal, and of course, the nights of the performance)

all james can think about is how close she is to him, after a pause, lily, as if for the first time, notices how sharp potter’s jawline actually is and for a while, thats all she can think about

“thinking about me evans?” james does one of those little half-smiles that bothered lily, but she still thought it was kind of cute

“always” lily rolled her eyes, her tone dripping sarcasm. she stepped back, biting the inside of her cheek to stop a smile creeping up on her face, “I think I’m done.”

“finally” james lets his head roll back against the edge of the chair, messing up his hair, and then stands up to grab the mirror. at this point, lily lets out a laugh, and james furiously turns around “YOU TURNED ME INTO A FISH?!” 

lily grins, “a very CUTE fish, you’re Flounder!” she's very proud of herself, the fact that james could even tell he was a fish was a good sign.

“WE’RE NOT EVEN DOING THE LITTLE MERMAID!” he starts to rub furiously at his face, trying to get the makeup off, but ends up looking like he's just been beaten in a fist fight. lily can barely contain her laughter, “aw potter come on, that took ages!!”

later that week, after a six hour rehearsal, the director asks james to change the lighting filters on the stage, even though he could have done it during the rehearsal

sirius and remus are laughing about the kissing scene next week, it hasn’t quite dawned on them that THEYRE actually the ones kissing

Pete is frantically trying to find the lighting filters, even though he already gave them to james, and then leaves after being told by lily that he was stressing her out

in the lighting and sound booth, lily is going through the script again, marking areas they need to go over and adding stage directions. she hums the duet that remus and sirius had been singing earlier as she does it

james, who is balancing on a ladder on the stage, nearly jumps out of his skin as he hears the humming come through the speakers around the theatre, the microphone in the booth catching every note of lily’s singing

he smiles but continues changing the light filters, not being able to stop himself from singing the other part of the duet

soon, he’s screaming the lyrics as loud as he can to try and drown out some of lily’s off key humming and she’s laughing in the booth as he screws up his face, his glasses balancing on the tip of his nose as he tries to block his ears with one hand and adjust the stage lights with the other

“now I can see why you’re on stage crew” lily smirks, talking through the mic, “you’re a terrible singer”

“a terrible singer, maybe, but even I can detect how off key your humming was, evans” potter yells back, sticking his tongue out and momentarily losing his balance

[seungjecnga]

@yuseongu

            nawon’s been working on a surprise for her dad for the last few weeks. ever since the “incident”, nawon’s been doing her best to show asher how much she loves and appreciates him ( because she really DOES love him, not because wonjae told her to, like she’s sure everyone else must think ) and father’s day seems like a good excuse to go the extra mile.             she’s not the most creative of the woo-won children, and so her gifts aren’t exactly instagram worthy, but she hopes her dad appreciates them all the same.             so what exactly has she made for him?             first, a throwback to her early years – a photo frame covered in different coloured beads, to make up for never giving him one when she’d made one at school ( because OF COURSE it had gone straight to wonjae ). encased inside the mess of heart-shaped plastic beads is a photo of their family, all beaming at the camera – except, perhaps, for junseo. she’d had to enlist wonjae’s help to find the right photo, and when she had, she had to pray that it was the right size for the frame she’d ALREADY made. luckily for everyone’s sake, it fitted perfectly.             second is a gift that others might accuse of being impersonal, but nawon put a lot of thought into it. she’d saved her allowance for almost two MONTHS before funneling it all back into a gift card for the cafe she always drags asher to for their father-daughter time. she knows their family isn’t strapped for cash, but even so, she feels guilty for how much her dad must have spent on coffee and iced tea since she’s been trying to make an effort. and yes, she’s aware that her allowance is TECHNICALLY asher’s money, and gift card is literally just handing his own income back to him, but she wants to be able to TREAT him. next time they hang out together, she doesn’t want his order to come from his wallet, and she’ll INSIST on paying for her own drinks until the gift card runs out so that he doesn’t have to waste his freebies on her.             third, she’d had to ask wonjae for help with. she knows her dad loves music, and she’d known straight away that she wanted to get him a gift that related to it somehow. but nawon isn’t musical in the slightest. she can’t sing, or dance, or play any instruments. she can’t write lyrics, or rap like asher and junseo can. so she’d had to use her imagination, and her imagination had seen her scouring album releases for INSPIRATION. and that inspiration had led to her calling every printing shop in their neighbourhood to get a quote for her idea, and promptly BEG wonjae to cover the costs for her.             what was her big idea? exclusive, LIMITED EDITION, woo-won family photocards. it’s probably a dumb idea, and she’s sure her siblings would laugh at her if they found out, but hey, it’s not an idea anyone else would have come up with. so she’d spent HOURS coming up with a design for the back of the cards, and even LONGER picking out the photos to use, but eventually she’d had a full set of 25 photocards ( with a pretty badly drawn pink heart on the back ). wonjae had even agreed to pay for a special box to put them in, and so they’re tucked away in their own collectible box, waiting for asher to open them and look inside.             and lastly, the most DIFFICULT one, is nawon’s first forays into home baking. and her logic on this one is a little less sound, but she hopes the message in his card explains it ( and even if it doesn’t, it’s free food ). so what has she made? an apple pie that she HOPES tastes better than it looks. there’s flour all over her cheeks, and she must look a mess as she stands there in front of asher, beaming as she tries to juggle a freshly cooked pie, the gift bag with asher’s other gifts in, and his father’s day card.             ❝ happy father’s day, ❞ she says, grin faltering a little as she tries to figure out how exactly to give all her gifts to asher without dropping or BREAKING anything. ❝ read the card first, okay? ❞ she insists, grin back in place as she waits for him to open the card and read the message she’d spent EQUALLY long thinking about.             what does it say?             ❝ dear dad, happy father’s day! i hope your day is awesome, and i hope everyone spoils you with lots of love and gifts and kisses. i know i haven’t been the best daughter in the world. i know i cause a lot of trouble for you and appa, and i know i act like i love appa more than you, but i’m trying to get better!! i promise i’ll try not to cause so much trouble anymore and i hope i’m getting better at showing you how much i love you. i love you so much, and i like getting to hang out with you more now. i hope you like all your gifts, sorry if some of them are kind of cheesy. and i hope the pie turned out well! i wanted to make something as sweet as you, and apple pie was the closest thing i could come up with. love you to the moon and back, nawon. ❞

            he knows that nawon’s been busy for days, not that he was going to interrupt her…letting the female do as she wished, he was more focused on running the company. asher’s been so wrapped up in work and his music that he hadn’t even noticed the ‘ holiday ’ that was approaching…not that he really remembered it much anyways. he’s come to accept that on father’s day, he’s more of a background character as most gifts went to WONJAE…if he’s lucky, he’d get ( maybe ) a half-hearted gift and some attention from his husband. that’s fine, as long as his children had a parent they can depend on, that was enough for asher. he had no qualms with being the lesser parents.             seated at his studio, busy reviewing the songs that were submitted to him to be approved for albums…he was pretty sure most of the kids were with wonjae, busy celebrating or just lazing about in the house. the quiet gave him a chance to really focus on things, marking things down on a sheet of paper as he listened along to the songs…bobbing his head to the beat or tapping his foot against the floor.             the knock on the door interrupts his flow, he turns to look. “ nawon, ” he pauses, brows furrowed as he looked at the various things in her arms. “ did you need help carrying those downstairs ?? ” he asks, spotting the troubled look on her visage, sure that the gifts in her hands weren’t for him. he wasn’t used to getting gifts from the kids on father’s day anyways…most of them came from wonjae ( and only if he’s lucky these days ).             her words elicits a small smile, “ thanks, nawon. ” he replies, setting down his headphones. “ did you….oh…for me ?? ” he asks, surprise taking to his tone. brows furrowing, okay…this was unexpected.             taking the card from her, he opens it to read the contents…slowly taking in the card’s content, only when he was finished did his eyes land on the apple pie. “ you baked ?? ” he queries, reaching to take the dessert from the female so she didn’t have to struggle anymore. “ you didn’t have to, nawon. the card was nice, it’s enough, ” he said, propping the card up on his desk, “ thanks, nawon. ”

[theartificialdane]

Galactica, part 245

Christmas is coming closer, and everyone prepares in their own ways for the holiday season!

Thank you @veronicasanders @toriibelledarling and @samrull <3

“Come on! Just taste it!”

“Are you sure it’s good?”

“I promise.”

Ruby looked at Max with doubt in her eyes, the brit smiling brightly, the man unusually enthusiastic. They had been at the animal shelter, Ruby somehow volunteering there now with Max twice a month, the man’s smile and his gentle eyes able to talk her into anything, but with this she wasn’t so sure. They had walked by a bakery near Ruby’s flat, Max stopping dead in his tracks when he noticed a dessert in the front window, a monstrosity that was unlike anything Ruby had ever seen before.

“It’s one of the best dessert britain has to offer.” Ruby raised an eyebrow, the black mass on her plate looking anything but delicious, but Max had insisted that a plum pudding was the best thing in the world.

“Alright, alright. I’ll take a bite.” Ruby took the spoon from her boyfriend, the word still creating a pool of warmth in the pit of her stomach. She bit into the cake, the overwhelming taste of raisins and rum filling her mouth, and Ruby wanted to spit it out, but in that moment she looked at Max, his eyes bright like a kid on christmas morning, and she realised that she never wanted to do anything that could ever disappoint him. She swallowed, the cake making it’s way down her throat.

“It’s delicious.”

“You really think so?”

“Absolutely.”

***

The meeting with Aja’s old housemate and proposed drummer, Nina Brown, had gotten off to a very weird start. First of all, the bitch had come in wearing cat ears and a tail like some kind of furry meets Josie and the Pussycats fucking

“Don’t worry about it,” Aja had murmured to Adore, “She’s a little…off, but she’s good drummer and super creative.”

And then when Adore was explaining her vision for the band - a group of free spirited, supportive musicians, gay women who all wrote music and gave creative input, all got their chance in the spotlight regardless of their role in the group, Nina cut her off.

“I don’t write music. So, I guess this isn’t the band for me. Sorry to waste your time.” She abruptly got up from the table and began to walk away.

Aja grabbed her arm and yanked her back. “Nina! Breathe for a second, god. Why don’t you show her some of your art?”

Nina rolled her eyes, sighing. “Fine, but I don’t really see what that has to do with–”

“Please?”

“I’d really like to see it,” Adore added. “Aja was raving about how talented you are.”

Nina pulled out a thick sketchbook and opened it. Intricate, detailed line drawings filled the pages, covered with swirling text. Adore read some of the text. The read like poetry. Or…lyrics? “Are these words original? Or are you quoting from something?”

“Original. Just…you know…a bunch of random nonsense…” Nina sighed, head propped up on her hands.

“Dude…” Adore read some of the words. It was free verse, a little disconnected, but there was so much there. “Nina, this is amazing. We can DEFINITELY use this as inspiration for song lyrics. I mean, if you’re cool with it.”

Nina raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Totally.”

“Huh. Yeah, I mean…sure. You haven’t heard me play yet.”

“True. Wanna jam? I assume you got the songs that Aja sent you?”

“Yup.”

Adore smiled. “Alright them. Let’s play for awhile and see how we all feel. Sound good?”

Nina nodded. “I won’t feel bad if you hate me. Don’t worry.”

“I already love you, but let’s just make sure you can keep count,” Adore laughed, slinging an arm around her.

Aja poked Nina in the side. “What did I tell you, Neens? It’s gonna be impossible to keep that stormcloud over your head with this little precious muffin around. She’s too fucking cute.”

“I can see that,” Nina agreed, picking up her drumsticks. “Seems exhausting.”

“So Nina will be in charge of team spirit,” Aja explained.

Adore giggled, slinging her guitar strap over her shoulder. “Hey, as long as she can play, and keeps writing that fucking sickening poetry, I don’t give a fuck about team spirit. You do you, girl.”

Nina finally cracked a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

“How about we try ‘I Can’t Love You’?”

“Copy,” Nina said, counting them in, “5, 6, 7, 8…”

***

“That’s the last of it!” Pearl smiled as she carried the final shipment of boxes into Trixie’s office. “I can’t believe we didn’t think of this years ago.”

Two nights ago, Pearl and Trixie had been home alone, when they had both realised over their fifth beer that online shopping was the answear to all of their christmas prayers.

“Did you remember my doughnuts and triple venti?”

“For the last time, I’m not your assistant dude.”

“You know I don’t have one.” Trixie sat down on the floor, Ivan happily playing with Trixie’s keys, the heavy metal more interesting to him than any of the ergonomically correct properly designed baby toys his mom had bought for him. “I’m the cool boss, I don’t need an assistant to fetch me coffee.”

“You keep telling yourself that dude.” Pearl smiled and sat down on the floor as well. “So, do you want to be on wrapping duty or not? Because I’d just like to remind you that I-”

“Not that box!” Trixie practically jumped up, the man snatching the box Pearl was holding from her hands, the brown cardboard not betraying anything.

“What the fuck?”

“Just, not this one okay, I’ll do the unpacking and the wrappi-”

“Nu uh!” Pearl sat up on her knees, reaching for the box, but Trixie was fast and fell on his back, keeping it out of Pearl’s grasp. “Come on! Let me see, who is it for anyone!”

“None of your business!” Trixie tried to worm away, but Pearl grabbed his pants, the woman jumping him, the two adults fighting each other on the floor, Pearl shrieking with laughter as they fought.

“Pearl! Come on- It’s private!”

“You’re my best friend! Nothing is private!” Pearl finally won, Trixie’s months of maternity leave not helping his fitness at all, Pearl yelled triumphantly as she tore the box from Trixie’s hands, and then, the unthinkable happened, the packaging broke, and a huge, purple silicone dildo floated through the air followed by a sea of packing peanuts, it flew across the room, the thing like a missile, straight for baby Ivan’s face, the dildo hitting him, and both Trixie and Pearl froze as Ivan started crying, his cheek bright red after the smack from his mother’s christmas dildo. Pearl looked down at Trixie, horror painted on her face.

“I’ll pay for his therapy. I promise.”

***

Fame heard the door to her office click, her brows wrinkling in annoyance. She was on the phone, overlooking the streets of Manhattan through her window as she talked, so she held up a to indicate she was busy.

“Yes, yes. No, yes. Yes we can discuss it next week. Goodbye.” Fame hang up and turned around in her chair ready to tear into whoever had wandered into her office unannounced “Roxy, I have told you several tim- Patrick?” Fame looked at her husband, the man standing in the doorway, a smile playing on his lips.

“Hello my love.”

“What are you doing here?” Even though they worked in the same building, Fame and Patrick rarely saw each other on workdays, both of them busy running their respective companies.

“Can’t a man come see his wife?”

Fame felt herself flush, her pale scandinavian skin betraying her as she could see the smile bloom on Patrick’s lips. Sometimes it felt like they were newlywed once again, any mentions of their marriage making warm delight curl in Fame’s belly, a childish feeling that only belonged to teenage girls and blushing maids, but Fame couldn’t deny that it was nice.

“And why has my husband come to see his wife?”

“Maybe he was hoping she had a little bit of extra time, and maybe, your husband saw his wife leave the house this morning, and remembered how luck he was.” Fame saw reach behind himself, a single flick of his wrist clicking the lock on her door, and when Fame looked up, there was a predatory smile on Patrick’s lips, once she hadn’t see in months, and it was directed directly at her. Fame lifted her foot and pushed against her desk, her chair rolling up against the window, leaving her vulnerable, but she had never felt more secure.

“I’m yours.”

***

“This is boring!” Raven sighed.

“We’re almost done.” Violet smiled and laid a gentle hand on Raven’s arm. They were in Raven and Raja’s kitchen, the livingroom filled with noise as a carpenter had come to redo the entire floor. Violet didn’t personally think it was necessary, but who was she to judge what Raven wanted to spend her fiancée’s money on. “We only need to find a seat for Fame’s mother in law.” Violet looked down at the gigantic seating chart in front of them, small pins in gold, silver and white representing if the name attached was Raja or Raven’s or common guests for the pair, along with red for industry people they had to invite, even if Raven complained loudly about it.

“What about here? I’m sure she’ll do fine with Nina Garcia.”

“No way.” Raven grabbed the white pin, only just saving it from a table almost entirely made out of red. “She’s not going anywhere near that cunt.” Raven pressed Patrick’s mom down, safely securing her at a table of bankers. “There. She’ll be happy with all the attention, and I won’t have to speak to either of them all night. No one is going to ruin my special day.”

Violet couldn’t help but smile, Raven as always looking out for herself first. “Of course.”