#shell just be performing her song and he gives her the most intense side eyes 😭

[manlymothman]

GG pic ask 3/3

I might have forgot one or two but here

why does the spine hate her so much...

[pillage-and-lute]

Thicker Than Water (Part 2)

Part 1, (Here) Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Ao3 link HERE

Here we are y’all, it only gets sadder before we heal the hurt.

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Of all the eyes he could have met, purely by chance, in a forest while running from people who wanted to kill him, Yennefer’s were not the one’s he would have chosen. He wasn’t sure who he’d like to see right now. Geralt definitely, but also not. It was only a small mercy Geralt wasn’t with his witchy lady love right now.

She met his eyes, intense and unexpected, like heat lightning. She looked him up and down, lip curling, disgusted and pitying, but somehow not as unkindly as he’d expected. She turned.

“Geralt,” she yelled. “I found your pet.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. 

He was about to turn and...run? Hide? What could he do? But then a pale face peeked around a tree. White blonde hair, bright, cautious eyes. 

Then the girl gasped and ran forward.

“Dandelion!” The rising cry of delight frightened birds from the trees and a blue blur rushed at him. He was slammed to the ground by a rather bedraggled princess and he had never been so glad. 

Of all the people he had burdened, he’d never felt like one around Ciri. Her arms were a vice around his neck. He hadn’t been hugged like that since his sister had passed away and he sat up in the cold, damp leaves, clutching her to him. She looked up at him with a face like a moonbeam.

“I found the white wolf, from your stories,” she said. Her eyes were big and trusting and she seemed to expect Jaskier to be pleased and proud. And he was. He had no doubt that Geralt and Ciri would be good for one another. The issue was that now he had to deal with--

“Jaskier.”

Shit. Geralt. 

He stood, setting Ciri gently down and brushing himself off. He turned.

“Hello Geralt,” he said evenly. He hoped it was evenly. Don’t yell at me, he thought. Don’t tell me I’m a burden again, as he stared into impassive golden eyes. I know I’m a burden but just let me leave, I won’t bother you again but I can’t bear it.

“Dandelion can come with us, right Geralt?” Ciri said. The White Wolf raised one eyebrow.

“Dandelion?”

Ciri clutched Jaskier’s hand in one of her mittens. “He played at my name day banquets, all of them, but Jaskier’s hard to say when you’re a baby.”

Geralt met Jaskier’s eyes and it felt like a physical blow.

“Hmmm,” he said.

“Little highness,” Jaskier said sweeping his most over the top bow. “I am afraid I cannot stay, and shall have to part from your delightful company.”

“Is Nilfguaard not looking for you,” Yennefer said cooly. 

“They’ve yet to find me.”

“Yet,” Yennefer said. “Isn’t good enough.” 

“If they find you they’ll know our secrets,” Geralt said. That hurt. Jaskier would rather die. That Geralt thought Jaskier would give him up, even if they hadn’t parted as friends, stung like salt in an already gaping wound.

“Jaskier you have to come with us,” Ciri said, dragging on his hand. “Please I’ve seen so few people I know come with us.” He couldn’t resist that. He was strong but not that strong. He looked to Geralt hesitantly.

Geralt wouldn’t want him along. He was a shit shoveler and a burden who would only eat their food and make them move slower. But as Geralt had pointed out, Nilfguaard wanted him dead too. They could just kill him here and now. Geralt could have his life’s blessing, but he wouldn’t because he was a good man.

Geralt nodded. “Come,” he said in that rough rumble that Jaskier had missed. 

He was coming along. But this time was going to be different. Jaskier wouldn’t be a nuisance or a burden. He wouldn’t talk too much, or get into trouble. He wouldn’t use up rations. He wouldn’t complain. Jaskier set his teeth like steel agains words falling out and nodded. 

They slept that night in the forest. It was cold and winter was reaching icy tendrils towards them. Yennefer had a magical tent, but it could only sleep two. She and Ciri claimed it and Jaskier could see why. Yennefer was strong as always but her posture drooped sometimes. She was exhausted. Jaskier had heard of the battle at Sodden, and could only image. Ciri of course needed somewhere warm to sleep. Geralt and Jaskier just pitched tents on either side of the fire. 

Jaskier hadn’t eaten with them that night, telling them instead that he’d eaten earlier. 

He hadn’t, and his stomach burbled unhappily as he set his tent, but he hummed low so that Geralt wouldn’t hear it. Between risking annoying Geralt and using rations that the others needed, Jaskier would be annoying. It hurt to think of though.

His one man tent was little more than cloth draped between some sticks, but it could be folded up and it was light. He’d patched it so much that it looked like a quilt, but it would keep some of the rain off. He glanced at the moon, almost totally obscurred by clouds. It looked like rain. 

Ciri begged for a song and a story but he told her he was too tired.

It was partially true. He hadn’t been eating well lately, preferring to drink his meals, and he’d been walking for days, but he was never too tired to perform, simply too wary of fraying Geralt’s nerves.

It did rain that night, and the pitiful tent dripped freezing water onto him, and the ground was cold and damp and he woke up soaked and shivering before dawn.

No one was up. That was rare, Geralt slept like a tree. As in, he didn’t. Half winks and meditation were most of his sleep schedule, the occasional deep sleep left him snoring and out for at least nine hours, but Jaskier had seen that perhaps a dozen times in twenty years. 

Now, though, the mosring was still and the light was dim, causing grey shadows to lurk on the edge of vision, and yet somehow it wasn’t ominous. His body ached and he was cold. Not a patch on him wasn’t damp and clammy, and an acorn or a rock had dug into his back all night. 

Regardless, he packed up his tent and gear, changing into some, only mildly dryer, clothes, and then he went in search of firewood. 

Jaskier had to stray much farther from the camp than he would have liked to find dry wood, but he found enough to soon have a small fire crackling merrily. He’d even found some berries he recognized for breakfast. If he foraged now, he wouldn’t eat the much needed rations.

Geralt crawled out of his tent and hummed appreciatively at the fire. That felt good. Jaskier had done something right. Not a burden.

“Look at all this fog, Geralt. Like a blanket don’t you think?” Jaskier said, poking the fire into a better arrangement. “Reminds me of that time we...” He trailed off. Geralt was scowling, face like a thundercloud and eyes like lightening. Jaskier hadn’t seen that much anger on a face since...

The mountain. 

Right.

And here he was prattling on right after he told himself he wouldn’t be a burden.

“Well, you remember,” he finished lamely. Did Geralt remember? The fog in the glen, when they’d crawled from their bedrolls into a morning made of clouds? If he did remember, did he remember it fondly? Jaskier had spent most of the day coming up with rhymes for fog and bugging Geralt for his opinions.

Another time he was a nuisance, probably. 

Jaskier huddled in on himself, wrapping his worn traveling cloak tighter around his shoulders. The berries really hadn’t been enough, and he wondered if he should have some of the horrible traveler’s loaf from his pack. He decided to save it. If he could wait until lunch, or better yet dinner, the food would last longer. Less of a burden.

He wanted to play his lute, the sexy girl had been languishing for days now, but his fingers were too cold and stiff to play. And he’d annoy Geralt. Even worse, he might wake Ciri from her much-needed sleep. 

He pulled his girl out anyway, not to play, but he carefully tended to the strings, plucking each quietly once or twice to check the tension, then he brought out his cloth and carefully waxed and polished the wood.

It wasn’t unusual for a good lute to last twenty years. But twenty years on the road through dust and mud and rain was different. Constant care and an oilskin cover were his saviors. It might not have been worth it for any other instrument, but this was Filavandrel’s lute. Somehow it seemed like the only instrument worthy of singing about the White Wolf. 

He put it away.

He didn’t sing about the White Wolf much, since the mountain. He didn’t want to break his own heart again every night, and a low profile had been to his advantage. 

Somehow though, it made him sad, and he thought of Professor Fredegar, the master of poetry at Oxenfurt, or he had been.

Fredegar had been an old man. He looked like he’d been made out of parchment and had somehow ingrown his clothes, like a turtle in a shell of thick woolen sweaters. He had been quiet and his hands shook, and Jaskier had liked him. He’d been kind and had wonderful stories to tell if a student came to his dusty office and sat with him a while.

There had always been something sad in the back of those pale eyes, though.

He’d been a great poet, still was, but in his prime he’d written the Saga of the Flame, a trilogy of epic poetry. The stories individually in the saga were well known about the Continent, but the whole tale... 

The first part told of a young man, engaged to his blind ady love, but without money for marriage so he traveled to foreign places. Many smaller adventures were had and the first book was pretty jolly. 

The second book was him seeking fame along with fortune, and forgetting his lady love for the sake of his pride, wanting someone grander than a blind village girl. Then he lost a battle of wits and was greatly humbled. 

The third book found the man stumbling home, getting lost along the way. He returned to his village almost twenty years after he’d left, and his love had died, succumbing alone and uncared for to a return of the illness that had cost her her sight in her youth.

It was a true tragedy, and one that didn’t advertise itself as such until the last moment. It hooked a reader into emotions so deep they could drown. And there was a quality, something heavy in the story, that told Jaskier that at least some of it was real. He would look at Fredagar, sometimes, the way his eyes were so sad and faraway, and think about how the man had written a masterpiece and retired in barely middle age, rarely writing more than a sonnet here and there. There was a harp hung on the wall of pale wood, like that of the man in the saga, but Fredagar never touched it.

And then the man had died. He’d been one hundred and two, according to the chancellor of the university. He was buried by maybe a dozen faculty members and half as many students. And Jaskier had stood there, on that bright summer day at the graveside, and sworn that he wouldn’t live his life inside a university, to be buried and mourned by no family or friends besides some half-grateful students.

Yet, lately, it didn’t seem so bad. 

He’d finished Her Sweet Kiss, and it was a true hit. He’d raised the reputation of Geralt, and witcher’s as a whole. Whatever happened, Jaskier’s name would be remembered forever. He could retire. Put Filavandrel’s lute in a glass case in a tiny office and teach ungrateful, hungover brats about meter for the rest of his life. It sounded nice, in a way. To settle down, and leave all thoughts of witchers and monsters and magic and wars behind him.

He couldn’t though. He’d been dragged into this and he’d have to see it through.

His stomach burbled unhappily and he glanced over at Geralt to see if he’d caught it. The witcher was staring at the ground, glowering like he would turn it into ash if he could. 

Then he looked up and caught Jaskier’s gaze.

Jaskier was too slow to avoid pale gold irises, but looked away anyway. Geralt crossed to him from around the fire, boots crunching on leaves and frost.

Don’t break my heart again. Jaskier thought. I’m trying.

Geralt placed a hand like an anvil on Jaskier’s shoulder and he looked up.

“Ciri is glad you are here,” Geralt said. Then he continued to Yennefer’s tent to wake them up.

Ciri is glad, Jaskier could read between the lines. I will tolerate you for her sake. She is glad you are here. I am not.

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No! You dumb boy! Geralt means ‘I am very glad you are here but so is Ciri and I’m a grumpy fuck with the emotional intelligence of a mollusk!’ 

Anyway, here it is at last. Still gets more whumpy before it gets better.

[whatgaviiformes]

Turning Circles

A/N: Okay, so this is the last idea I had in my head for Olympics stuff, and it’s the one that kind of did what it wanted to do. Remember how I said I don’t write ships.... well Gordon had other plans. 

So Pen and Ink - and I abandoned the summer Olympics for the Winter. Because, fun fact, I don’t know anything about the other sports. But what I do know is ice skating. 

So you can tell me if you enjoy this or if this is weird. I dunno. 

I don’t write ships, this is weird for me. please beniceomgomgomgomg

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TURNING CIRCLES  

It was official.

Gordon had a crush on his brother’s pairs partner.

By all rights, Penny should be representing Great Britain, not the US. But loopholes with her mother’s ancestry aside, it was obvious she and John just fit as a pairs team, and their ease with each other translated beautifully into their performances.

Their fit hadn’t been immediately obvious; it took Coach Moseley reaching out to John directly and asking him to just come give it a try. What could be the harm? Up until then, John had considered himself a singles skater. But in his past competitive performance, his programs had just felt flat, and dispassionate. The World Stage knew it.

And Penny – well she was, rightfully so, a little –uh, selective after her previous partner was willing to abandon her safety for the thrill of the win. The partnership of Fischler and Creighton-Ward had dissolved a few years ago, right before the national championship, in a major upset that reached even the most remote television screens.

There was video of the qualifiers, and Gordon fumed thinking about Penny’s fall. Pairs was about trust, about knowing each other’s cues and speaking silently, soul to soul. Penny hadn’t been prepared when Fischler changed the throw to a more difficult one that would score them a higher technical score. He hadn’t warned her, and she hit the ice hard with a cry that still sent goosebumps up his arms when Gordon thought about it.

Then again, that could just be the cold of the rink this early in the morning. He rubbed his gloved hands together to spread a bit of warmth up his frozen limbs. Gordon had bundled himself into a pair of long jeans and a thermal bomber jacket, with faux fur adorning the hood for this morning’s visit to their family’s Ice Arena and Sports Complex.

In comparison, Penny and John wore their practice outfits, and for Penny that still meant tights and a cobalt blue skating dress with a sheer skirt and rhinestones framing her chest -stop looking, Gordon. John wore a pair of black joggers and a long sleeve grey Henley. His red hair was messy from their warm-up, looking like absolute bed head in comparison to Penny’s immaculate high ponytail.

They kept warm somehow, but then again, they were the ones currently practicing the salchow. Gordon was just the one who ran for drinks.

Penny’s rotation was a bit faster than John’s. Coach Moseley echoed it as he thought it, clapping her hands together and shouting, “Again!”

The pair started with the footwork sequence right before the triple salchow, setting up the back left inside edge that started the jump. They turned, one-two-three (and it had taken Gordon a few months to get comfortable recognizing the rotations, but it was obvious now), and then landed on an outside edge on the right leg.

Better that time.

From his jacket pocket, Gordon pulled out his phone and the stylus he used to make notes and opened his digital notepad for John. He’d lost some height in his jump - an increase in his calf exercises should help correct that.

Coach Moseley skated over to the edge of the rink to greet Gordon and gestured for the pair to join her as they finished off their edge with the next few steps of the next sequence.

“Did you get that, kid?”

“Yep,” he confirmed. “All right here.” He tapped the stylus against the side of his phone. So, in all truth, he did more than bring drinks. It took a village, and John and Penny had Coach Moseley, a Choreographer, a ballet teacher, and, well, Gordon had the honor of being their nutritionist and personal weight trainer.

“I’d like you to work with Penny on her forearms, too,” Coach Moseley added. “They had a wobble in their twist lift yesterday.”

Gordon’s heart jumped. “Is she ok?”

“She didn’t fall, kiddo. John held firm. I’d just like to be a bit on the safe side.”

He understood that. A few taps with the stylus later and the note was added into Penny’s file. Then he pocketed his phone to greet his brother and his partner with a grin.

“Morning!”

“Gordon, Darling.” Penny reached for the pink thermos he offered. It was filled with warm green tea to start her day. “Thank you,” she hummed. “You’re a Godsend.”

He ducked his head as his cheeks flushed, pretending to check the other two drinks to make sure he had the right ones for each.

“Ah – here you go, John. Black with honey and cinnamon.” Pen and John were allowed natural sweeteners only. And for their coach – “Caramel macchiato with hazelnut.”

“Thanks, Gordon,” John said, humming happily into his coffee as he took a sip.

“I brought some honeycrisps too.”

“Wonderful. Okay kids, take five,” the Coach said. “We’ll drop jumps down to doubles when you get back. I want to focus on footwork this morning.”

He noticed John’s galaxy blade protectors sitting to his right on the barrier of the rink, so Gordon slid them over to his brother, stepping closer to the rink doors just in case he needed a hand. John had a habit of tripping when transitioning from gliding on ice to the awkward process of walking in heavy skates.

For Penny, taking five meant she went right back to what she was doing. Turning circles, weaving grooves of figure eights onto the smooth ice, beautiful like crystal and as hard as glass.  Much like the woman herself.

She’d taken her thermos and abandoned it on the other side of the rink.

Gordon watched her skate. And saw resilience, strength, intensity. When she first came to them, there’d been a shield around her, and slowly John and the rest of their family had started to help her bring that shell down.  Much the same as when Kayo joined their fold.

But Gordon knew Penny could still cut him down with just her words and her stare. And though she knew it was a power she held, Gordon tried his hardest to hide the extent to which he knew she could truly and utterly break him if she wanted to.

If she knew.

A crunch to his right startled him; he jumped as Virgil came up beside him and bit into one of the apples he’d washed this morning and thrown into the thermal bag.

Virgil had his pair of hockey skates draped over one of his broad shoulders, and his red flannel was rolled up a bit at the sleeves. He casually leaned forward over the edge of the rink to mirror Gordon’s position, watching Penny as she skated freely.

“We need a fourth for even teams,” Virgil offered. He placed a hand on Gordon’s shoulder, turning to look him in the eye. “What do you say? You and me against Scott and the Sprout?”

“That’s hardly fair.” Virgil was a tank as goalie, and Scott had yet to figure out Gordon’s tricks for finding openings where there didn’t seem to be any.

“I wouldn’t underestimate them, Gordo. Alan’s been getting quicker on his feet. Which you would know if weren’t spending so much time out here lately.”

Gordon shrugged Virgil off and grabbed an apple for himself as well, taking a bigger bite than he probably needed.

“Gordon.”

“What? What are you trying to say, Virgil?”

Virgil sighed, sitting back on the bleachers behind them. “Nothing. Just – when you’re ready we’ll be over on rink two.”

“Sure.”

He slid back and grabbed his hockey bag by the door. “Don’t be too long.”

And as Virgil left, John returned. They whispered a few words to each other in the doorway, and Gordon tried to ignore the way his ears burned, even in the cold air of the rink in the morning

End Note - if it feels very “The Cutting Edge” it should. Turning Circles is a song from the movie, and the concept is....eh, similar. and Moseley is the last name of a character

[alj4890]

Angst Prompt

This was a request from Anonymous to see how my OC does when the only two men she fell for, (Maxwell Beaumont and Thomas Hunt) have both fallen for someone else.

A/N Seems odd not to put my OC in a pair, so let's just claim the usual pairs of characters from the following Choices books: The Royal Romance, Red Carpet Diaries, and Perfect Match. I thought I would try something new and write it in first person. We’ll see how it goes. I know there are a ton of sentence fragments in this. It is on purpose. I thought it fit how her jumble of thoughts might go.

@lxaah11​ @alleksa16​ @penguininapinktuxedo​ @blackcoffee85​ @moodyvalentinestories​​ @stopforamoment​@krsnlove​   @annekebbphotography​  @cora-nova​  @hopelessromantic1352​. @sunflowergirl05​ @desiree-0816​ @greywitchyshots​ @lilyofchoices​ @emceesynonymroll @dr-nancy-house @aworldoffandoms @ab1901 @pixieferry​​

Masterlist

Song Inspiration: You Don't Know Me

You Don't Know

Just one night. That's all I have to get through is one single night. I can do this. I've done it before...just not with both failures present.

It won't be easy. Who am I kidding? It will be the hardest few hours of my life. There's no escape from this.

I had to have the bright idea to host a holiday party.

I have to hide the fact that I am nothing but a hollow shell with shattered glass inside, waiting for the moment when I am allowed to crumble to the floor.

How have I not collapsed? Am I numb? I should feel something, shouldn't I? What if I only feel it when I see them? What if I break completely when I have to take their hands?

"I can't do it." I say to my reflection. My hands move as if they have a mind of their own to straighten my dress. I wish I could curl up in a ball on the floor and let the pain finish breaking me in half. Maybe if that happens, I won't feel anything ever again.

I can't be angry. It isn't their fault. They have no clue. No idea. I never told them. Never hinted. Never gave one single flirtatious look or suggeative touch. No, I purposely kept all that hidden.

I created my own prison, one where certain words are barred from leaving my lips. There is no nor ever was a revelation to what is in my heart. My mind. I did this. To me. To them.

I am what no one wants to be when deeply in love. I am the friend.

A knock at my door forces me to turn on the happy charm. "Come in."

"Guests have begun to arrive, your grace." My butler announces. His eyes seem to linger on mine. Does he know or simply suspect?

"Thank you Hudson." I smooth my damp palms down my dark blue gown. Quite fitting that my house colors are shades of sadness and lost dreams.

Why didn't I say something? Perhaps then...

There I go again, dreaming the impossible dream. They wouldn't have loved me like that. Not me.

Every step I take brings me closer to the stage where I must give my most convincing act. I must do it well. No one has yet to realize what I keep hidden. I look around and take my spot near the double doors leading into my ballroom.

Time to speak the expected words. It is my lot in life. The ever smiling duchess is ready to perform her role once more.

"I am so happy you were able to join me this evening."

"Your gown is exquisite!"

"Lovely to see you again."

"Please enjoy yourselves."

And on. And on. And on.

The pretending to be happy in having company in my home is unbearable. If they only knew how much I want to be alone. I want wallow in my heartache. Stare hopelessly out the window. Sleep.

My nerves are right at the breaking point. They will soon arrive and I will have to summon every ounce of my strength to smile happily. Laugh. Talk of how wonderful life is.

I hate this. I don't want to be the friend. I don't want to keep the facade up that I am fine and dandy with everything. I'm not! Shouldn't I be allowed to express this?!

"There's our favorite duchess!"

My first love. I look into Maxwell's deep, ocean blue eyes and feel that familiar sensation in my stomach that you get when going upside down. His dimpled smile is filled with joy at the sight of me.

Why didn't you feel something special for me? Why did you tell everyone that I was your best friend? That there were times you forgot I wasn't just one of the guys?

I smile warmly. I must say the proper words. "Good evening Lord and Lady Beaumont. It has been much too long since you were here." There. I did it. I should receive a reprieve for such composure.

"Formal huh?" Maxwell teases. "Well Lady Beaumont, shall we give her the news or make her wait?"

I turn to look at the one who holds the name I once dreamed of having. It's amazing how you can both love and hate someone at the same time. The hatred in this case has subsided some as time went by. Nadia is a genuinely sweet person and she loves Maxwell with every fiber of her being.

Shouldn't that be enough for me? To see the man I love be with someone who practically worships the ground he walks on, shouldn't I feel a sense of satisfaction in that? I don't know. Maybe.

Still...I wish it could have been me.

"Of course we tell our best friend!" Nadia exclaims. Her beautiful smile is practically glowing.

"What news?" I manage to ask with a delighted anticipation that I do not feel. Dread is more like it.

"We're pregnant!" They say at the same time.

I freeze. Pregnant. She is pregnant with my once perfect match's baby. "How wonderful!" I exclaim, hugging the woman who won my lost love.

Maxwell pulls me into a tight embrace. "If it's a girl, I want to name her Amanda."

So there will be an Amanda Beaumont in the world. I force myself to smile. "You're going to make me cry with talk like that." Ha! If they only knew how true that statement was.

Nadia hugs me again. "We will let you get back to hostess duties. I just couldn't wait to tell you!" They wave as they enter the ballroom.

I try and steady my breathing. I need all my wits about me. My childhood crush and love is completely and irrevocably gone. But the love I have for another, one born as an adult, has yet to arrive.

How hard did I fall in love with him? When compared to Maxwell, he is the exact opposite in terms of personality. He's serious, very dry sense of humor, rarely speaks especially to people he doesn't care for. He's passionate and intense, yet can be calm and collected.

Everything about him attracts what is deep within me. My heart yearned for him, still yearns for him to see me in a different light. So often I thought that perhaps he felt that emotional current that seemed to be between us, a current that could either be turned off or come to life with a single spark.

Why didn't he notice me? Why doesn't he see the love I have for him?

"Welcome to St Orella." I say to another group of nobles.

And then he comes in. My eyes, against my will drift down, taking in how handsome he is in a tux.

Then I see the woman on his arm.

Jessica Clark. Movie star on the rise. Young, Beautiful. Eager to please. Undiscovered depths of talent. And now the love of Thomas Hunt's life.

"Amanda," Thomas takes my hand, squeezing it affectionately. "It has been too long since last we met."

"Yes it has." There's a perfectly good reason for my avoiding him. I didn't want to witness his falling more and more in love with Jessica. I have to have some sort of self preservation.

"Welcome to St Orella, Ms. Clark." I choke out.

She laughs one of those tinkling like bells laughs. "Please, call me Jessica." Her smile is wide and friendly toward me. "Thomas has told me so much about you and your home."

I make myself smile and nod somewhat. "I'm glad you were able to come with him." As she responds, I notice something that fills me with even more heartache. Is that what I think it is?

Thomas notices where my attention is. His lips curve as he meets Jessica's eyes. "I know we said we would wait. Do you mind my telling her?"

No...this isn't happening! Not after hearing that Maxwell will be a father. Surely the merciful God in heaven would not let Thomas say--

"Jessica and I are engaged to be married." Thomas announces. "She accepted my proposal while we were in Hawaii."

"Oh!" Quick, think of something to add to that exclamation. "That's wonderful! I am thrilled for you both."

No. Don't. Please. Don't kiss my--

My eyes close as I feel Thomas kiss my cheek. How often have I dreamed of him kissing me in a lover like fashion? The feel of his firm lips and brush of stubble against my cheek sends goosebumps over my skin. There is no passion in his touch. Just simple friendship.

Jessica pulls him close for a brief heated kiss once he is back where he will be from now on...by her side.

I try and keep the tears from falling that suddenly blur my vision. Thomas never wanted me. Not like that. Not ever. Why would he think anything of me? I'm plain. Unexciting. There's nothing special or extradionary about me. I'm simply his friend and a geographically distant one at that.

"Congratulations." I say, pressing a kiss to his cheek and squeezing Jessica's hand. "If you will excuse me, I must greet some others that have arrived."

They smile and ask me to come find them later.

I briefly nod while watching them walk away from me.

And that's it. This is how my life will be from now on.

I am the friend that will cuddle Maxwell and Nadia's baby while the stray thought that this could have been my life comes to mind. I will imagine the holidays we would have spent with our baby and others that follow. Then I will snap out of it and return to my solitary existence.

I will be the friend that cries silently while keeping a smile on my lips as I watch Thomas marry Jessica in a beautiful sunset ceremony. My dreams at night will be me in the white gown before him, only to then wake to the lonely truth.

I will be the friend who returns to her empty house. Unloved. Unwanted. Heart shattered completely. For the rest of my life I will be tortured with the question: What if I had told him?

I did this.

I chose to keep my feelings a secret.

No one knows.

No one ever will.

[sjohnson24]

Legends of The Moon & Poetry

Enchanted Moon Your heart is like a mirror and I am the seer of love. Words rise up from my lips and I can feel the sun kiss me. I am never alone. Your anger is like a natural disaster. I put the beast to sleep with a song. My halo is a divine flower growing from a seed I nourish with powerful thoughts. Our souls are like vines twisting, nurtured in green gardens of the underworld. Dreams pour from the moon and slip through my hands like memories. Diana Pagan Goddess of the Moonlight Diana is the goddess of the hunt. She transformed into a goddess of the moonlight. She is a great goddess and has been worshipped in many positive ways. She is the queen of Heaven. She is always standing up for women and their rights. She is fabled to have turned herself into a black cat and snuck into Lucifer’s chambers as he was sleeping. She then got pregnant in his bed with their daughter, Aradia who is the goddess of the witches.

Moonlight Can you feel the moonlight? Super moon come closer to me. Whisper secrets of the night into my ears like a flowing sea. Moonflower is growing in time with the song of outer space. You are the paradigm of beauty, Your visions and spells encase me in a magic shell like a glass coffin sleeping forever and waiting for you like Endymion and Selene dreaming dreaming my heart in the moonlight is blooming.

The Goddess of the Moon and Endymion The goddess of the moon has a different name in each culture. Diana is a derivative of a Latin word meaning bright sky. As the Queen of Heaven she rules as Inanna. In Greek mythology she can be compared to Selene. There are legends of love in each culture between her and Endymion. He was a very beautiful mortal. She found him to be irresistible. She wanted to have him forever yet he was a mortal. She begged God to put him into an eternal sleep and he did. He sleeps eternally dreaming.

The Legend of the Vampire In Greek mythology, the legend of the vampire began with Selene and Ambrogio. Ambrogio was a handsome Italian man with a desire to travel. He wanted to visit Greece to have his fortunes told. Recorded in the scriptures of Delphi was this tale. He met Selene at the moon temple and they fell in love. Apollo, the god of the sun was also in love with Selene. He placed a curse on Ambrogio that he could not go out into the sun so that he could not go back and meet Selene at the moon temple. Ambrogio ran into a cave where Hades was dwelling. He told him he would help if he could recover the hunting bow of Artemis. He sold his soul to the devil. After many days he began writing poetry for Selene and begged Artemis for her help. She decided to help him. The lovers were finally able to meet and Ambrogio wrote her a note asking her to meet him at his ship as he was to set sail back to Italy. He was sleeping in a coffin and he told her not to open it until after the sunset because the sun would burn him. She sailed with him and they were in love together. Artemis helped Selene to become immortal by teaching Ambrogio how to drink her blood and turn her into a vampire queen. This was the beginning of vampires in Greek mythology and also the beginning of Selene as the moon goddess.

Temple I am a temple made for a holy spirit, a vase filled with many dreams that pour out like water to form the mist upon my wings.

Space Goddess Shooting stars orbit those crystal souls a gold heart, glowing aura angel goddess cosmic tides rushing heat lava over coal diamond indigo children alien abductions locked minds, strange celestial emotions tragic memory white metal key seductions lost in our outer space spirit misplaced planetary alignment comets crosses faith prisms bows raindrop rebels tears erased terrible emotions dreams without purpose revelations, salutations, sky vibrations spiritual purpose star map magic serpent don’t give up the humanity of our touches hands together clasped forever in prayer Gods design fingers entwine his clutches.

Seraphim Love is my hunter My eyes fill up with the sea

Wings cover my face.

As I talk about a pagan goddess above, let me go back into time, back to 2014, in which I was inspired to write about a man-god, a half god named Hercules after watching the latest movie about Hercules.   I will call this The Legends of Hercules.

The Mythology Hercules is the legendary hero of the era of Greek and Roman mythology. He is a great force who is half mortal and half immortal. In Greek mythology he is worshipped as a God.The story of Hercules starts when Zeus and his mother meet. Her name is Alcmena. She is the daughter of a great warrior. His name is Amphitryon. His father is a king. His kingdom is Tiryns.The great goddess Hera discovered that Zeus had been with Alcmena. Out of jealousy she tried to kill Hercules as an infant- sending two snakes into his crib to kill him. Hercules killed the serpents.

Hercules married a woman named Megara. She was a daughter of a king that Hercules won the right to marry in battle. He ended up killing her and her children in a rage set in by Hera. Hercules is a hero so to him this is devastating. He needed forgiveness so he traveled to meet an oracle in Delphi. He could be forgiven if he performed 12 labors for his kingdom.

Here is the Twelve Labors of Hercules:

Slay the Nemean Lion The Nemean Lion was actually a shape shifting woman that would lure men into the rocks with her human damsel in distress tricks. Upon coming closer she turned into a lion and would eat them. Hercules destroyed her with her own sharp claw.

Slay the nine-headed Lernaean Hydra Hercules cut off the head of the Hydra with a golden sword that Athena had lent to him. Hera sent down a giant crab like monster to try to distract Hercules. Lolaus is his nephew and he fought alongside with him at this point.

Capture the Golden Hind of Artemis. The hind was very hard to capture, but Hercules did this even though it took him traveling through many countries to accomplish this.

Capture the Erymanthian Boar. Hercules has the help of a centaur to complete this task.

Clean the Augean stables in a single day. He reset the directions of two rivers to accomplish this task.

Slay the Stymphalian Birds. These are man eating birds with beaks of bronze and feathers of metal. These birds were sacred to Ares. Athena decided to help Hercules because the birds were destroying crops. She gave him a rattle made by Hephaestus.

Capture the Cretan Bull. Hercules battled this bull with his bare hands. He actually let it go free because his companion wanted to sacrifice it to Hera but Hera would not accept it.

Steal the Mares of Diomedes. Hercules kills the owner of the mares and feeds them the body which acts as a tranquilizer.

Obtain the girdle of Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons. A beautiful princess wanted a belt given to an Amazon Queen by Ares. He ended up killing the Queen because Hera interceded and made it so the Queen was paranoid instead of kind and she tried to go up against Hercules.

Obtain the cattle of the monster Geryon. Hercules captures each last cattle and has them disguise their tracks by getting them to walk backwards.

Steal the apples of the Hesperides. Hercules captures a shape shifting, Old Man of the Sea to figure out the location of this garden. Hercules agreed to hold up the world for a moment for Atlas while than shaking the fruit free.

Capture and bring back Cerberus. He learned from Eleusis how to enter and exit the underworld alive. Then he attacked it with his bare hands and dragged it up to the Earth.

After the twelve labors Hercules lived the rest of his life much the same way. He had many adventurous and the God’s were still highly interested in his acts.

The Constellation of Hercules

The constellation of Hercules is the fifth brightest constellation in the sky. The constellation is said to represent Hercules standing over the dragon that guards the entrance to the garden where the golden apple was.

Beta Herculis is the brightest star in this constellation. This constellation has fifteen stars with planets orbiting within.

The Two stars Vega and Lyra lay very close by.

Hercules – Starring Dwayne Johnson (Movie Review by Deanna Jaxine Stinson – Movie Critic)

The Hercules Movie was just released. The role of Hercules is played by Dwayne Johnson. It is based on the graphic novel Hercules: The Thracian Wars. Dwayne Johnson doesn’t wear his shirt for most all of the movie. He rarely has armor on. He is good at being intimidating.

In the movie, Hercules has companions that seem familiar to the people that he encounters in the mythologies of his twelve labors. The movie doesn’t explain the twelve labors exactly or the people that came from his past. The characters are all just there and there are no introductions.

The woman warrior in his group is an Amazon Queen so I am assuming they were trying to keep that labor alive yet they don’t explain how she began traveling with him.

His nephew is also by his side much like in the legends.

There is also a very funny oracle that travels with him. He has visions that he thinks his companions don’t take seriously yet they do because he foresees his own death at one point but is saved thanks to his friends that are listening despite their silence.

Hercules starts with the last labor. Hercules is just ready to finish his last task when he changes his mind and a new story is written and that is the movie of Hercules.

I recommend this movie because it stays true to the mythology of Hercules and continues on from that point with a new story. It is funny and intense. The monsters are beautiful to look at on the screen in the flashbacks.

It is a good movie if you know the legends well and even if you don’t. Hercules is a well-known story continued on through modern motion picture.

[thecauldroncake]

Only Hope (A Bucky Barnes One Shot)

Fandom: Marvel’s The Avengers

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning/s: Mentions of death; kinda angsty?

Word Count: 2,566

A/N: Hi! So this is my first ever posted Bucky Barnes one shot! Hope ya’ll like it!

  Against the one-way looking glass holding you from the outside world are your frequent visitors.

 Spearheaded by the in-charge on your recovery are obviously Tony, Banner and Vision, with them are the whole gang, who came to see you for the first time in three years, including your boyfriend Bucky.

 The moment the team dispatched in Siberia received the news about Tony finally having the solution to your problem, they immediately halted the operations. With Bucky on the team, they know he needs to be back ASAP and for the rest to see you again & give whatever support Bucky needs for this whole ordeal.

 “Buck,” Steve croaked from the back. “just go to her.” He barely managed to whisper.

 “What if she-- I can’t, Steve.” Bucky look back from Steve to you, watching you singing your favorite song.

 “Her brain activity is getting better.” Bruce commented as he fiddles on the hologram diagnosis he has in front of him before looking directly to Bucky. “A push might be needed, Barnes. If we want her to remember us and recover faster.”

 “I know what you’re thinking, Sergeant. But what about her?” Vision reasoned as he floated towards the glass wall and looks at you. “She’s dying to know who she really is.”

 Bucky looked at the rest of the group before landing his eyes on Tony’s. Tony, of all people, is the one helping the two of you, despite their differences and past. “May I?” Bucky pleaded.

 “She needs you more than ever, Frosty.” Tony nodded his head towards the door that’ll give him access to your holding room.

Upon the sound of the creaking door, the man whom beholds it is a new sight; or is he? There’s a sense of familiarity that you can’t deny but the specifics are something you can’t decipher just yet.

“Hi.” You started. His eyes are bright blue that digs deep into your soul. You can see him getting anxious and doubtful about his actions. “If you’re a friend of the three musketeers, I’m sorry to say that I’m gonna blindly trust you.” You smiled at him.

 Bucky can feel the butterflies in his stomach awaken, something that haven’t happened for the past three years. He opted for a gentle tight-lipped smile, not wanting to scare you, especially not when you don’t have any idea who he actually is. “Three musketeers?” He gently snickered at your remarks.

 “The soft speaking doctor, the guy with facial hair and just can’t stop talking for some reasons--”

 “What the?” Bucky heard Tony whine while the other laugh from the other side.

 “and the red... guy.” Your brows furrowed in frustration thinking about whatever the hell do you actually call Vision. “But they’re all nice and they’re practically all I know for now.” You stood up from your bed and walk towards him. It was until you’re mere inches from him, when his scent started to cloud your consciousness and his body heat began radiating towards you that you stop. It’s all too familiar and your body starts to crave for more meanwhile your mind is still blank.

 “I’m Y/N. I know you know it. And you are?” You hold out your hand.

 “James Buchanan Barnes.” He lightly shook your hand, the interaction jolted electricity in the entirety of Bucky and he can’t help but flash a beam of smile. “You can call me Bucky.” Your real first meeting is a total opposite of this.

  You see Tony as an older brother figure and have stood alongside him despite knowing about his crazy antics and the fact that most of the time it gets onto you. When Cap and his team gets to settle their differences with Tony’s, mini-chaos ensues as some still has reservations regarding the reassembly of the team, including you and Bucky. Nonetheless, the team can’t care to deny that this mini-fights you and Bucky had has something more than hate. If anything, it was the exact opposite of hate and they all saw right through it.

 Fast forward to the time when hate turns to love. You and Bucky had your ups and downs. Him being overprotective with you, with all due reasons; and you being reckless and stubborn, all in the name of doing your job perfectly as an Avenger. Due to these reasons, things get more heated and the team knows they can’t meddle into it. Nonetheless, you both made it together. But as they say, the worst is yet to come.

 You were held hostage by Hydra when the mission went terribly wrong, thanks to the Hydra-planted intel that reached the team. With you in their hands, yo know you won’t last a day idle as Hydra is infamous into making use of all the opportunity they have to turn the tables over, and having a mutant Avenger is an absolute prize.

 They hurry on concocting the supersoldier serum you knew they used on Bucky, wanting you to enhance your performance more than you can imagine and deliver Hydra more successes as soon as possible. They were as excited as those teenagers’ during their first prom night, thinking very highly of themselves, they injected the serum into you in no time.

 All for it to be wasted.

 To put it into simple English, it failed terribly. You’re dying and Hydra can’t afford to waste their resources on you again. They dumped you like a pig for slaughter in the cold Siberian forest to die and made sure to abandon the said laboratory knowing that the Avengers are going to comb the whole area for you. Thank God Hydra was right.

 You can still remember the horror in their faces, especially Bucky's, when they saw you just few kilometers from the Hydra base. You’re as pale as ice and your skin is getting frost bites. The team immediately called for the headquarter to prepare for medical emergency situation and let Banner lead it from the quinjet down to the operating room back in New York.

 Banner, Stark and the rest of the medical team of the Avengers did all they can do to nurse you to health as the others waited outside chanting prayers of mercy for your life to be saved, only to be devastatingly blasted by the laboratory results when it was delivered.

 “The serum Hydra gave her is eating up her entirety and therefore is killing her rapidly, instead of making her stronger. It makes her weaker until she’s just an empty shell.”

 Everyone looked at Bucky.

 Bucky never cared for anyone this intense other than Steve. He thought he would never love and care for anyone as much as he did for his family and Steve, his best friend for ninety years and yet here you are, breaking his strong facade.

 He put his face in his both palm as his elbows rest on the table in front of him. At first all they can hear are deep breathes, then they became faint sobs, until it become an all-out cry for mercy. Everyone was crying by that moment; Vision swore he also did.

 Was he being punished? Are your sufferings his supposed punishments for all the innocent blood he shed under the guise and mind of the infamous Winter Soldier? If it is, he can’t forgive himself, Bucky thought.

 “Buck--” Steve ran for Bucky as the latter sped out of the room and follows him until he reaches your bedroom door.

 You and Bucky preferred to stay at his bedroom together, but you insisted on keeping your room as it is. You love having a space for yourself as you grew up living on the streets after your relatives cursed your mere existence to death and insists you’re a freak. Bucky respected this decision of yours but once in a while he’ll innocently insists you to just settle on his place, like married couple does, as he always says.

 But now at least he sees its purpose. The room shouts the entirety of you. Not you as his girlfriend or as an Avenger, but you being you. Your favorite books, CDs and board games are neatly placed in the rack. Some memorabilia of your parents in heaven, every little detail there is to see screams of you. All Bucky can think of doing is to sit on the edge of your bed, letting his flesh arm feel the softness of your bed.

 “Buck, there must be a way.” Steve walked silently towards his broken friend. He had always regarded him as broken after he knew about his past with Hydra, but this is a new and worse blow than that. It’s like losing everything all over again just right after you’ve settled down and expected it to last longer.

 “Is there?” Bucky asked, his voice voids all hope.

 “There must be.” The two supersoldiers looked up, it was Tony. “We’ll try our best, Barnes. She’s like a lil sis to me.” Tony looked down, trying to hide the fact that he’s actually thinking about how to say the things in his mind, as he usually don’t do that. “But you’ll need to give us more time.” He quietly added.

 Bucky mockingly chuckled.

 “Time?! Time!” Bucky stood up from the bed and pace in the space between Tony and the bed. “She’s dying! I don’t know how much science-y time do we have but if she’s dying--” He paused, feeling the gravity of the situation rise from his throat as he continues what he was about to say. “rapidly, what kind of time do we have?!” He frustratingly hissed against the billionaire.

 “The cryo will do.” Tony’s eyes stares with conviction against Bucky’s orbs. “I’m not asking your permission, she’s important to me as she is to you and I want to save her.” Tony turned his back and was about to leave when Bucky called him out.

 “I trust you, Tony.” He sighed. “You, Banner, the others... I’m sorry about how I reacted.” Tony looked back at Bucky, waiting for him to finish his mini-speech. “Please save her.”

 “You know we’ll do our best.” With that, Tony left.

 The rigorous journey to finding a cure for you turns days into weeks into months and years. Now, they can all hear your lively voice. Your eyes are full of life. Your hands started to display your powers back: controlling water. This is you, but not the entirety of it.

  Day after day Bucky visits you and the ambiance becomes better every single time. You get to know things about him and you as well. He supplies you with things you used to love and adore. He even gets permission from whoever is in-charge of you to go out, and by go out that is going to parks and malls. You also get to learn how great of a cuddler the man is. Days with Bucky were never dull.

 But it was never peaceful either.

 Once in a while you'll get flashbacks. At first you were excited, but whenever you see Bucky's reaction to you zoning out, his brows were furrowed and you can't help but think of him being disappointed, or worse, mad. You kept all the flashbacks to yourself. It was tolerable to begin with, but now you're getting ordeals with it.

 You woke up with beads of sweat forming from your forehead and drenching your tshirt. You held your left chest trying to calm your furiously beating heart before asking FRIDAY to open the dim lights and reach for the water by the nightstand.

 Luckily to you, everyone decided to leave open your holding room. The team thought that by giving you that much trust you will also trust them as much, which they weren't wrong.

 You quietly walked towards the elevator and pressed the up button. Upon entering, you pushed the button with a gleaming number 5 on it and let it deliver you to your destination.

 Your body moved by itself and find yourself in front of a door beside Bucky's room. You rest your hand on it, trying to familiarize it, before pushing it open.

 The first thing you saw is the piano. Tony gave it to you as a gift for your first mission. Like Peter, he spoils you like a sister-that-he-never-had.

 You pressed the piano keys softly with the pads of your fingers and your mind directs it to orchestrate the melody of your favorite song: Only Hope.

  There's a song that's inside of my soul

It's the one that I've tried to write over and over again

I'm awake in the infinite cold

But you sing to me over and over and over again

 You were so engrossed you haven't noticed the figure standing by your doorstep. He never imagined seeing you there but nonetheless a ghost of his smile rests on his lips unfaltering.

 So I lay my head back down

And I lift my hands

and pray to be only yours

I pray to be only yours

I know now you're my only hope

 Things are running into circle but you focused on the melody you want to play the piano with.

 Sing to me the song of the stars

Of your galaxy dancing and laughing

and laughing again

When it feels like my dreams are so far

Sing to me of the plans that you have for me over again

 He badly wants to hold you but the sight in front of him is too much to behold. It was nothing but precious.

 So I lay my head back down

And I lift my hands and pray

To be only yours

I pray to be only yours

I know now you're my only hope

 Flashback mists your vision but you fought yourself by focusing on playing the keyboard. You continued but your voice is starting to break with sobs.

 I give you my destiny

I'm giving you all of me

I want your symphony

Singing in all that I am

At the top of my lungs I'm giving it back

 You can't continue singing but you didn't let go of the melody, but someone carries over.

 So I lay my head back down

And I lift my hands and pray

 It was Bucky.

You had a sad smile against the tears rushing to your cheeks.

 To be only yours, I pray

 "Am I still your doll, Sergeant?" You asked him as if it was the worst thing ever. Your head hangs low and your blurry eyes can only make the color of the keyboard in front of you.

 To be only yours, I pray

 He looked at you while he sings, sending you the message of the song.

 To be only yours I know now you're my only hope.

 You finished the song and you shifted looking towards him. You can see him fidgeting as his flesh hand pulls something from the pocket of his sweatpants.

 "To be only yours, I pray, doll." He bended his one knee and opened the red velvet ring box harboring a diamond ring.

 "You're my only love, Buck."

 "And you'll always be my doll, my love." He kissed the crown of your head, the tip of your nose, before putting the ring on your left ring finger and pulling you into a kiss. A kiss which was his only hope to feel alive again.

[millsogara]

Captain’s always right

Not all worlds are born equal. Some, like the lost forest planets of Hickory Doon, can support thousands of eco systems, rare birds, civilisations and insectoids and, were it not for the cripplingly high gravitational pull, would be a thriving tourist trap to this day. (As it is, there are enough splattered corpses and puddles of bone visible from the passing shuttle window and it’s hard for even the most hardened adventurer to look on undeterred.)

Others, like Demento, have nothing but ash.

“Bit hot.” Said Jager, fanning himself with a pack of plasters from his med kit.

“Borderline inhospitable, “said Micha, who could already start to feel her fair skin tighten as a rich layer of crackling formed on its surface. She turned to her captain, Franklin U.Saltese, who ordinarily stared down every planet with stoic resolve, but now wilted before her eyes like a dry petunia. She wanted to water him, but in all likelihood that would just boil him alive. “In fact, I don’t think we should stay here a moment longer than necessary. Let’s find the source of that distress beacon and get the hell out. I can feel my veins starting to froth.” As soon as she said it, her blood began to itch. All psychosomatic, she told herself.

Like a pustular youth, the planet’s surface was all cracked and broken, bloody scabs rose from the bubbling mire in great towers of molten rock and the whole place gave off a sickly, infected heat. The atmosphere was almost too dense to see through, but somewhere, pinned to the sky high above, shone a watery sun. This was not solar interference; this village was built on a huge volcano.

The island on which they stood, 13foot by 13 foot- just big enough to land a shuttle-bobbed and swayed with the fiery currents. A few steps away, a gap large enough to leap, lead to another rock and another. Some of the floating outcrops were more substantial, as such were home to houses. Quite ordinary buildings woven from stone and white picket fence, they clung to the side of the rocks like limpets.

“This place is not hospitable Mich’.” Frank panted, already breathing in more sulphur than he’d like. “In the same way as my aged mother is not hospitable; she doesn’t like visitors, and neither does Demento. Red is the colour of danger, the whole planet’s trying to tell us something. Let’s make this an ‘in out job’.”

“A Men to that.” She rolled up her sleeves. “The sleeves are up, Frank, I’m physically uncomfortable.”

Ordinarily, in any temperature below say 200oc, Frank was far from a sweaty wilting carrot- he took pride in his tan, his appearance, his toned physique. He enjoyed spending time at each locale they visited- picking up local cultures and striking bonds with the people. Some bonds were stronger than others. The Star force code- 1) Do not interfere with the natural order 2) keep calm and 3) don’t mate with the locals, only vaguely applied to him. He was captain after all. He did keep a condom tucked away for safety. Don’t want to leave the planet with one more problem when you leave.

As it was, he could already feel the condom dry and crack under the intense heat. He would have to throw it out as soon as they got back. Damn thing would be useless now.

He cast an eye around Dante’s inferno. Very unlikely to be used today anyway.

“Where did the distress signal come from?” Asked Jager.

Mac studied her tablet. “That building there.” She pointed ahead at the closest building, five times bigger than the rest, a huge triangular roof held aloft on three roman columns- the sort of simple structure that a child might make with blocks. From this distance, and through the vaporous fug, it was impossible to make out the intricate carvings, but it was clear this home was important. For one thing, unlike the limpet cottages, it did not look about to tumble off the side. A mayoral residence?

White paint reflected the hellish heat well, she was forced to close her eyes for a second, lest it blind her. When she opened them again, Frank had vanished.

“I’ll just head over here to enquire,” he yelled, bounding over the stones towards it. Micha winced. The heavy-footed bugger partially submerged every stone he landed on and it was only a matter of time before he fell too hard on one that was too small and ended up with first degree burns from the waist down. By a twist of fate, he made it, and they watched his stumpy frame climb up the mayoral boulder.

“What’s fleet footed Frank’s rush all of a sudden?” She asked.

“Hollyoaks is on in half an hour.” The doc shrugged. “He won’t want to miss it for this.”

“Oh shit, we finally get to find out where Brendon hid the moondust? I can’t miss this episode-“

“And you won’t.” He cast an eye around the bubbling lagoon. “Nothing much amiss here. No invading hordes, no star destroyers. No locals in sight, actually. It seems quite peaceful.”

She nudged his shoulder, pointed due East. He turned, careful not to rock their pebble, “there are some guys over there. We could ask them what’s going on.”

Sure enough, there was a small gaggle, three doddery old codgers lined up on the edge of a rock, staring gormlessly into a stream of lava as it went by, as if in search of their own reflections. With their bright red shells and puffy faces, the lava was a pretty good likeness. As was a slice of Margareta pizza with the topping peeled off. Dementans were meant to look like that. Scabby faced creatures, lepers with tortoise shells and pus spots. An odd race raised in sulphur and smoke.

“This better not be another prank distress call. “She grumbled, beginning the long shaky march over to where they stood. “I swear, if we miss Brendon’s last episode because of some joker who wanted to see a StarForce vessel fot the first time-“ she stopped mid stride. Mid moan.

They weren’t on their rock anymore. With a serine smile and a faint ‘plop’ they all put their palms together in a diving position and disappeared face first. Micha stood there, three rocks from Jager, three rocks from the suicide cult, unsure how to proceed. Demento’s weren’t meant to do that. And granted, it was quite distressing.

#

Frank scrabbled up the boulder. He had almost lost his footing once or twice down there, but each time, instinct took over. You may let yourself slide down the bark of a tree should your grip come loose while climbing in the park, or give into the inevitable halfway up a cliff, so long as you have faith in the harness round your waist, but when faced with certain death below, most people can find a handhold somewhere. Anywhere. They make do. Frank was Lazy, but death seemed like a drastic excuse for a rest break. Whenever he slipped, he scrabbled further up, his own momentum and the boulder’s slight curvature keeping him going until he finally reached the precipice on top. Smooth flat rock. He melted into it, exhausted. Knees scuffed and torn, his palms blistered blisters. This better be worth it. They best be in SERIOUS trouble. Frank rarely prayed for an air strike, but for the sake of whoever summoned him…

He rolled up onto his stomach, then to his knees and lumbered into the comparative shade of the building’s foyer. Lining the hallway were a hoard of Dementons.

He could tell by the effervescent ruby red of their shells, and the effort that had been put into polishing them, that these were the females of the species. They batted their burnt tomato eyelids and held out their sweaty hands. He gritted his teeth. Certainly, this had been a job for Misha, as foreign dignitary. Why had he stormed on ahead? He shook their hands, grimaced at the crispy flakes of skin that peeled off and accepted the odd little notes they pressed into his breast pocket.

He hated foreign cultures, traditions that he did not understand. That’s why he became a StarForce captain, to learn about other civilisations, so they weren’t so alien any more.

He continued down the corridor, shaking and nodding and smiling and by the time he reached the end, the big oak door, the mayor’s office, resting place of the big Kahone, he was none the wiser. But he was determined to have a good read about the Demeton culture later when he got back to the ship. Back to the ship with its library, it’s fridge full of ice-cold drinks… A sweat bead drippled down his forehead… With its luxurious airconditioning….

Then he set foot in the office and remembered why he had been so eager to rush on in the first place. The mayor had air conditioning too. Of course, he did.

“Hello sir-“

*She * did.

The lady major rose elegantly from her seat and wandered round the desk; hand outstretched. By now, Frank knew the protocol, he would not let himself down again. He smiled in greeting. Tried hard not to loom over her petit 5” frame as he pumped her clammy palm.

“We received you distress signal, madam!” he said, pulling back. “My crew and I came as fast as we could.”

“Oh yes,” her voice a sing song trill he had not expected from that body,” you did come fast. I thank you, captain. That shall be all.” She pottered back round the desk. He watched, dumfounded. She fought to wrestle her awkward backside back into the seat.

“Excuse me?”

“Crisis averted, captain- you’re free to go.”

“Yes, but what was the emergency? You sent out a Band One distress signal, with maximum penetration- you yelled for help at the top of your lungs, and we came to help.”

“Yes, captain, and I must say your alacrity did you proud. You’ve done very well for us and we’re hugely grateful. Now you and your crew are free to stay as long as you wish. But do not stay for our sake, we’re quite satisfied with your performance, and shall need you no further.”

“Quite satisfied?”

Her beady little eyes bulged; she gave a curt smile. Eager to be rid. “A good firm shake, yes.”

Frank bristled. “I’ll have you know that we do not come running for entertainment value, for whimsy or some cry for attention. There are penalties to wasting a Star Cruiser’s resources madam. Not to mention, in the time we’ve been here- proving ourselves to you- we may have been seriously needed elsewhere. If that’s true, may it hang guilty on your conscience-” He paused for breath, rants hard to maintain in such low oxygen, “but I am glad we lived up to your so very high standards.” There was paperwork for this. He could file a report back on the ship, get them fined for improper use of Force time. He glanced at his watch.

10 minutes till Hollyoaks - the deceitful decapod had held him up enough. In 10 minutes, they would finally be rid of bloody Brendon, the prancing arse had ruined his favourite galactic soap opera for weeks, and if frank missed this pivotal instalment because of… Whatever this was. Because he was trying to track down the requisite forms, scan them in to the trans molecular telefax, make the cavalcade of calls to Commander Chutney-

“But today, as it is your first offence, you shall get away with a warning.”

“Oh?” The Demento mayor was unperturbed.

“Yes, and a slap on the wrist.” He leant forward, smacked her arm, and turned on his heel to leave.

“Ohh, you are a saucy number.”

Frank gave a shiver and turned back. That was not the sort of comment you could leave the room on. It was cringeworthy. He certainly could not leave the planet on that note.

“Saucy… How?”

“We were lucky, captain, lucky it was you who received our distress signal. Do you know often we must advertise for foreign seed? How often that seed is vastly inferior to our desires?”

“What seed?”

“You even moisturise your hands! So soft, so considerate. You didn’t have to. We’ve been forced over the generations to mate with some very crusty dockers. Dockers with blistered finger tips and,” she shuddered,” hangnails that catch.”

“Thank you madam mayor, but I really must know what you meant by-“he was cut off by manic grunting as the woman strained and contorted before his eyes. One moment she was fine, aloof, the next bent forward in a hideous gurn, her stomach clutched in claw like hands. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “Indigestion?” Instinctively went to hold her hand-

“No silly- I’m about to lay our egg.”

“What?”

“Your finger prints and my fingerprints,” she looked up at him, cheeks rosy, puffed, eyes crossed in concentration; all her features scrunched up contorted disarray. He whipped his hand back and stumbled to the door. This was no birth, this was a transformation, and he didn’t want to be around to see what heinous beast she turned into-

All too late. He found the handle, but the deed was done. The metamorphosis was complete. Her lips parted in a wet, exulted gasp. Her dress gave a flutter. A ruby red egg rolled out from underneath. Shiny, round, no bigger than a football. Frank resisted the urge to boot it through the window. He pressed himself to the door, as far away as possible from the inhuman Pez dispenser. “Our fingerprints bonded to make this blessed child!”

“Wait wait wait wait wait! You people do it with your… fingers?”

“Well of course- what do your species use?”

“That doesn’t matter.” He was already bright red, she couldn’t see the blush. “But… How could you let me come here and just… just.. harvest my DNA like that?”

“Are you calling into question the miracle of birth?” Her beady eyes narrowed. She bent to scoop up the egg in her arms.

“I’m calling into question your shonky set of morals, woman. I don’t know if that was rape, but it was certainly taking advantage. I didn’t know. I didn’t know what we were doing.”

“Well now you’ve been educated.” She continued to rock the large ball, made little cooing noises to it. Frank’s stomach flipped; he felt as though he were about to give birth too, or at the very least have kittens. This was his child, 50% of his genes, and the hideous Dementon was treating him as though he had no further claim to it. She had carried it in her intestinal papoose for what- maybe three minutes?- and shat it out on the carpet- that made it entirely her property? Did it hell as like. Protocol number 1 may be not to interfere with the natural order, but if Dementon didn’t have a Father’s for justice programme already, he may just have to set one up.

Frank settled for a strangled meow, and fled through the door.

The cast of dignitaries and well-wishers, which he now knew to be dirty dirty slags, only in it for his chromosomes,  watched him on the way out. He kept his chin up, strode past with nary a glance, but he could feel the wall of eyes. See the beautiful red prizes they clutched to their bosom. Out into Dante’s inferno. Out of the frying pan and into the fire-

“What’s this?” Micha storming towards him, arms pumping like pistons, steam practically puffing from her ears - a pissed of steam train.

“Oh… nothing…”

She came to a halt, none to nose. Held up a little red ball. Fantastic. They’d already travelled. “Cos they’re getting pooped out all over the place- and I was just wondering if you had any fatherly wisdom as to what made them?” The way she cocked her eyebrow and made that forehead vein throb, Frank got the feeling she knew full well what made them. Still, he decided to play along with her game of Guess Who.

“A very large hen?”

“No. I think you’ll find it was a very large cock!”

“I don’t know what you’re implying.”

“Oh great, well fine,” she stomped back and held the egg aloft above her head,” why don’t we celebrate then, with on massive, creepy omelette? Floor should be hot enough to cook it, don’t you think?”

With that her arms flexed and she went to smash his blessed child-

“No! Micha,” he sprung forward, grabbed her tightly, “no!” His voice crackled like the steam,” don’t cook my child!”

She wrestled out his grip. ““Ah, so you admit it!”

“Please, where did you find this one? Where’s the momma? Where did you get it?”

“Just lying round in a bush over there. Mum tried to sell it to me for $5 but she accepted some scotch eggs and pocket lint instead. I don’t think 90% of these mothers are very attached.” Frank was, Frank was very attached, he glared daggers round the island in case one hit a shameless hussy. Sell my child for snack food, he thought. Micha glared too, though her daggers were aimed at him.” What’s the main rule of star force Frank?”

“No intervention.”

“Yes. And keep calm.” He nodded emphatically.” And don’t mate with the locals.”

“I kept calm.”

“And you mated with everyone!”

“That’s a bit of an understatement.”

“You impregnated more than that??”

“Over statement! Overstatement! “He patted her arm.” You know what I mean.”

He scoured the area for possible allies. Jager. Where was Jager? Old bosom buddies from back in the academy days, the ship’s doctor would take his side. He’d certainly be nowhere near as judgemental as Micha here. The grey haired fool was miles away, poking a branch into some lava-flows- God knows why-  so he snapped his fingers at a rather well dressed woman instead. The woman had an egg of her own, and perhaps a husband.” You there- is that my kid?”

“Yes.” The woman nodded.

Perhaps not. “Okay, bad example. But how was I meant to know? How could I possibly have known?”

“Read the case file for the planet before you touch down. Don’t be a stumbling bumbling boob. I don’t know Frank, some element of forethought and research.”

“Okay, ‘read the case file’ is all very well and good, but it would help if that was in the StarForce code.”

“The code neglects to warn you about the perils of an open flame- would you burn yourself alive because the code doesn’t explicitly sate otherwise?”

“No. Not unless this whole planet wants me to pay child support. Then I might consider it.”

“Well while you’ve been spreading your wild oats, Jager and I have been actually getting to the bottom of the issue. You remember the planet-wide issue we were summoned here to sort?”

“Oh yes, about that-“

“Shush now frank, you’ve had your time to speak, let the adult finish her bit” Frank shut his mouth. If anything, her sass would make him relish his juicy revelation even more later. “It turns out, this planet has a massive suicide problem. Now I don’t know what it is- psychological manipulation, some brain rotting bacteria, death cult, but all of the old people have suddenly started killing themselves and if we don’t intervene-“

Micha stopped, shoved out the way by two decrepit locals, as they fought their way past to the edge of the precipice. One gave Frank a fleeting smile. He nodded politely. She didn’t see. She had already plunged head first into the lava. It was quite a drop, but in moments, her shell sank with a sickening hiss below the surface. Turtle soup. His stomach growled. He dropped his egg. Luckily it bounced.

“Jesus Christ, Micha-“ he couldn’t process the events- no sooner had the woman jumped, than her partner went to do the same-

Micha bounded forth to stop them- shot forward like a bolt. She would have made it too, were it not for one stray egg rolling idle along the floor. She saw the little beach ball, but saw it far too late.

Frank watched in horror as she stumbled with a crack and his beautiful child spilled greasy see-through innards all over the ground, instantly fried to a white and orange disk beneath their feet. His second in command slipped on the omelette, completely off balance, her arms a pinwheel blur-

He went to catch her

She toppled off the edge.

There was a flash of silence, before the sickening acrid splash.

#

Not all worlds are born equal, but all worlds are born to die. Demento is in full bloom now, but one day the sun will set, it’s coal fire cool to embers.

The final credits rolled, though Frank had barely paid attention. Hollyoaks, with its particular brand of melodrama, seemed a like crass interlude to the day’s events. Surreal and distracting when he had his own dramas to consider.

Micha.

He closed Demento’s file, the one he should have read before they landed, but didn’t let himself feel guilty for neglecting. Afterall, Micha had not read the file either; otherwise she would have known. When one a new generation is born on the sterile planet down below- the oldest generation are driven to their death. It is a cycle as old as time, a song set in their DNA. Some primal instinct sent to serenade them to the grave. Like plants drawn to light… moths pulled to a flame. Their time is up. From fire they are birthed, and in lava they remain.

It is the natural order of things, and thus not her place to interfere.

By trying to save the bewildered pensioner, Micha was in fact in breach of protocol number 1. Frank felt a smile. Yes, Micha was even more wrong than him. He only broke protocols 2 and 3.

[quietlyhereshhh]

The Siren’s Voice Omakes

Fandom: High School Star Musical/StarMyu Pairing: Uozumi x Kaito Rating: PG Other: Just some extra I wanted to write for AO3: Hawley (tumblr hides external links so no links here) Original: The Siren’s Voice

OMAKE 1

“I can’t believe you,” Uozumi looked up to see Nami standing there with hands on her hips with a raised eyebrow. She took the seat next to him and nudged him with her elbow. “If you’re just worried about him not making friends, you can introduce him around.”

“With me, he can’t relax,” Uozumi flipped through his script. “With me, it’s all work. He’s serious about his work that if he’s with me, who he has been coached under before, that’s all we’ll do.”

“I’m sure you guys have other things to talk about,” Nami pulled up her legs and grabbed them with her arms. “Even so, work is a good start. But honestly, Uo-san, you need more friends too, not just Tsukigami.”

“I have friends.”

“I’m sure,” Nami laughed. She nudged him again and fluttered her eyelids. Uozumi rolled his eyes because he could sense teasing coming. “Ne, you don’t have to be shy, you know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Uozumi turned away and ignored her but she leaned in more heavily.

“Did my charms really affect you that much during dinner for you to stare that much? I’m flattered.” She was giggling like a maniac but yelped when he shot her an annoyed look.

“Don’t be stupid,” He tried to hide the fact that it seemed that Nami could easily pull Kaito out of his shell during dinner to the point he smiling and laughing in a relaxed manner. He couldn’t help but feel an intense jealousy because with him, Kaito was always stoic. He was always attentive while listening to his advice.

“I was making sure you weren’t being a bad influence on the others.”

“Excuse me,” She giggled senselessly again. “Were you jealous because I get along with everyone? Aw, Asaki-san. Don’t worry. You’re still my favourite.”

Uozumi rolled his eyes and placed his hand over his eyes. Sometimes dealing with Nami was just too exhausting for anyone.

He wished someone would save him from her.

OMAKE 2

It was the first time that the stage became something so difficult for Uozumi to look at.

On one hand, he knew his expectations coming in. They were high especially since Kaito was in the performance – he had seen the things he was in and watched him grow. He saw so many different sides to him and Uozumi wished to see more. The strength, the fragility, the pained…

…and the in love.

Watching Kaito show eyes of love in The Queen’s Regent was the most heartbreaking of all. He played with such passionate fervor and sincerity that it was as if he was truly in love and not acting. He was devoted, smiling in a way that made the women around his seat sigh; his actions were soft but he declared his love so strongly.

And his solo – his solo about his love being unrequited. His solo about a hopeless love to a woman he could never have.

His solo of needing to give up despite the fact that the audience knew they loved each other.

There was the strong urge for Uozumi to run onto the stage and kiss him in front of the entire audience to tell him, yes, someone loves you. Someone sees how amazing and beautiful you are. Someone is willing to grab hold and never let go. Someone is worthier.

But he gritted his teeth and almost hid his eyes away.

“That’s it.” Uozumi turned to Masayuki next to him. Masayuki had his eyes trained on Kaito as if analyzing him, face slack and neutral as if he wasn’t touched by his song. “He’s Pen.”

Uozumi felt his heart race in excitement. He had brought Masayuki on a whim because he denied any actors that came forward for the part of Pen because they didn’t fit his image. Maybe a change of pace or seeing if the stage actors would fit him was somewhat of a gamble.

Because, of course, he wanted Kaito to get the part.

OMAKE 3

As soon as Kaito walked away, Haruto placed his elbow on Uozumi’s shoulder. His princely smile held up but he knew how fake it was having experienced it various times when they were students.

“Is it necessary for you two to leave together?” Haruto asked and Uozumi cursed at how knowing his tone was. It irritated him. “The two lead actors? That demands media attention, especially ones looking for juicy details.”

“We’re just going to the same place. As his senpai, I should lead him there so he doesn’t get lost.”

“What a kind senpai!” Haruto laughed. However, that was subdued as he leaned closer to Uozumi with his voice low with his fake smile. “If you do anything to hurt Kaito, there will be repercussions, Uozumi.”

Haruto was irritating because of how easily he could read through situations. He was irritating because he saw embarrassing parts of Uozumi he never wanted to hear about again and thus knew how his brain worked. How to figure out situations of the people around him based off that knowledge.

So he wasn’t surprised that Haruto knew.

But the threat wasn’t something he feared. In fact, he realized that to a certain degree, Haruto acknowledged these feelings he had for Kaito. He had given his approval even if behind that smile, there was some murderous intent.

And Uozumi would take it.

“I think you’re underestimating Kaito’s strength if you believe he’ll be hurt by me,” Uozumi said. It was true that Kaito, despite appearing stoic and serious, his hidden emotions were strong and could erupt when the situation didn’t fit him. It’s happened in the past and it’s happened in the present.

However, he always managed to get through it.

But…

“Even so, I would never want to hurt him,” Push and pull. Shake and stir. Shape and form. That’s what Uozumi wanted to do to Kaito.

But never tear him apart.

OMAKE 4

He had arrived at the gravestone with a bouquet of flowers of his shoulder, hand in his coat pocket and a soft expression on his aging face. He placed the flowers roughly in front of the grave and traced the kanji on it, staring wistfully.

“Hey…” His voice was gravelly, a sign that he was getting old. He never thought he would outlive him but here he was. “So, it seems like it was a success. Congrats.”

There was silence as if he expected a response.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, you know?” He snorted and sat on the cold ground in front of the grave. The grass was still a little green but the winter season still persisted. “All these years of being together…you were part of my success. You were the reason I could achieve my dreams.”

He was silent.

“But you couldn’t achieve yours, could you?” He whispered, voice quivering. He leaned forward, head dipping to the ground as he tried not to cry. “I thought you were happy after everything. I thought that we both had achieved our dream but I was wrong. I was wrong and I’m the reason why, aren’t I?”

It was deafening. The blood pumped through his ears angrily because he knew the truth. He knew that he was late but he knew the truth now and wished for the chance to make the other’s wish come true.

“God, Taiyou,” He sobbed into his gloves. “I love you. I love you so much. I’m so sorry I found out too late.”

He was old. Too old now. He cancelled his retirement but Masayuki knew he had to keep going.

“For everything that you’ve done, for all the love you’ve given to me, I’m happy,” Masayuki was sure his wrinkles were catching some of the tears. “I can’t return anything now but we’ll meet again – once more. And at that time, I will give you everything that I have and everything that I am.

“Taiyou…” He choked on his name as if it was the final goodbye but he knew that it was anything but. “Thank you.”

[honeybeerapper]

Y’all I have this really fun game we should all try!

It’s called “Stan Monsta X”

 It’s easy!

A fun game the entire family can play!

I’ll give you a place to start ^^  This is very long I threw in gifs here and there to make it more easier to read ha. tbh y’all can ignore this long post omg i felt like i had to publish this eventually though

                                                  MONSTA X

                                                       MUSIC

2014-15

No.Mercy Playlist (Their pre-debut survival show) 

Trespass - Debut track of of album of the same name! Very hip hop influenced. I also recommend watching the Beagle ver. for a more funnier less serious side of them

Honestly - A simple MV just them sitting and singing very simple and is a nice break from the regular MV

Rush - A more bright MV compared to Trespass. Here you’ll start to recognize the Monsta X sound ^^

Hero - The Mv where they decided to put a  boy who is afraid of heights on a roof but you would’ve never guessed ! Do you like abs? Their some of that in there. Do you like member focused shots / self-cams? Its in their too! Do you like a pretty catchy song with good choreography? Its here too ^^. This is the track that attracted many people to Monsta X during their first year!

Amen - 10/10 I recommend you watch this 7 times, so you can see each member individually ^^  A very cute boyfriend style member focused MV . This will probably help you when choosing a bias !

Perfect Girl - A sweet self cam MV where the boys sing to you it can be cringey but its cute y’all

Gone Bad - Another self cam MV where the boys are just being goofy/ being themselves

This concludes Monsta X Official MVs of 2015!

While there were solo tracks, mixtapes, OSTs as well as their No.Mercy tracks I just want to show you their officials songs ^^  Do you like them so far ? If not its okay! Maybe their releases of 2016 will be better for you?

                                                   MEMBERS                                    

But enough of music for now! Lets get you to meet the members :3

This will be a quick over view of the members! There are many guides on this site I will try to link a few at the bottom.

Shownu | Position : Leader, Vocalist,Visual as well as the Father

Official Animal Onsie/Counterpart : Bear

Shownu is a very reserved person and at times can be awkward which is his charm. He has visibly come out of his shell over time and is interacting more and speaking. Many doubted his ability to be a leader because he is a quiet person but he does take charge and takes care of his members! 

When Shownu appears of variety shows the host seem to have lots of fun messing with him because of his reserved stiff nature. He will be very polite and straightforward with responses. This type of behavior is why many call him a robot. He has appeared on Weekly Idol, Lipstick Prince, Hit The Stage, Law of the Jungle, as well as Running Man!

Shownu is a very good dancer, he was a back up dancer to Lee Hyori, during his apperance on Hit The Stage he placed 3rd during the finale. He does enjoy dancing more than working out.

He has also released a solo track in 2012, Now I Know apart of the Protect the Boss OST.

Wonho | Position : Vocalist, Visual and Heartbreaker

Official Animal Onsie/Counterpart : Rabbit

Wonho is more than likely the most recognizable member of catching the attention of many people with his looks. Wonho exudes lots of charm and sexiness on stage, often showing his abs or doing one of those side smirk things. He is the second oldest member of Monsta X and was going to be the leader until the position was given to Shownu. 

Without a doubt I can say he is the member who mentions the fans, monbebe , the most. He will honestly find some kind of way to bring the fans up and say some kind words to them which is really cute. He is constantly trying to improve himself to not let the fans down. He does get very emotional if he feels like he has failed monbebe, like during music shows. He does like to be reassured he is doing well and is making the fans happy.

He loves Ramyun probably as much as he loves monbebe honestly.

Wonho really found it important to debut not just to become an idol but to help out his mother financially. Before their debut, his mother was bankrupt and he blames himself because of all the money she spent on him( I am assuming during his Ulzzang days). Though things did turn around because he was able to help her open up a cafe,MOMOCAFE. Wonho often visits and writes the menu himself or draws pictures on the sign but also many other idols stop by and leave signed albums there too.

He composed a song for the fans titled How about u? (its not officially released yet but its on YT)

Minhyuk | Position: Vocalist ,Visual and Vitamin/Sunshine/Moodmaker

Official Animal Onsie/Counterpart : Puppy

Minhyuk is Monsta X’s mood maker, the sunshine, the vitaMIN. In all sincerity this group would probably look to serious if he wasn’t there.  He does enjoy his ability to make the other members as well as the fans happy. Though he does want people to take note that he can’t be this happy and excited all the time that he is like everyone else and can get down or be in a neutral state as well.

He is extra, like extra loud, extra hyper just extra. His reactions to things says it all from screaming over food to drop kicking Kihyun on the beach during their reality show, Right Now! 

Minhyuk is seems to be the most open member, sometimes getting him scolded by the others. He has mentioned his interest in wanting the group to be apart of a nude photoshoot, like Shinhwa. Also during Monsta X-Ray, he revealed his interest in wanting kids,soon after finding out that they would be going to a day care center.

His vocals are deeply underappreciated, he deserves more lines. 

Kihyun | Position: Main Vocalist ,Visual, Mother & Shortest

Official Animal Onsie/Counterpart : Hamster

Kihyun the main vocalist of Monsta X, The Mom, The Short housekeeper. Okay So if you have never heard Kihyun sing before I recommend you do it will show why he was made main vocalist, he has such an emotional voice its really nice. 10/10 recommend his Hyeya cover its so good. 

Kihyun is someone who likes to get things done and he does have a temper but its never like explosive or aggressive. He just complains and nags alot. But even when he is annoyed by the other members he will still take care of them by cooking for them and cleaning the dorm.

Whenever he does or says anything remotely cute he will cringe like that is cute imo. He will legit cringe at himself for being cute. Don’t tell him he’s cute he has a slight eg

Hyungwon | Vocalist, Visual and Sleeping Beauty

Official Animal Onsie/Counterpart : Turtle

Hyungwon is also known as Memewon because of well, everything he does. He is the tallest member of Monsta X and is also a model (technically they all are but he was a model prior to joining ). Hyungwon is described by his members as having a tsundere personality, cold on the outside warm on the inside. He also has a pretty 4D personality with his behavior bouncing everywhere from being a charismatic model to a frog to a praying mantis. Trust me what I just said makes sense.

He is the member in the group who does get the least amount of lines  which does upset lots of fans but when you do hear him it feels like a gift has been given to you. If you would like to hear him check out Interstellar which is a song from their predebut show No.Mercy ft members Jooheon and I.M.

Hyungwon is very good dancer , he believes he is a much better dancer than vocalist. He has released a video of him dancing to choreography that he created with members Wonho and Shownu onto twitter before.

He sleeps alot. Like alot. He has stated that he slept 29 hours straight before. He is also the member who has the most difficulty waking up.

He is the member who speaks Mandarin the best.

Jooheon | Rapper, Visual, Vocalist and the Baby

Official Animal Onsie/Counterpart : Bee

When describing Jooheon  there are a few things that come to mind. Intense rapper, extreme aegyo, deep dimples and scared easily.

Jooheon is Monsta X’s lead rapper who has made several appearances on his own on program such as Weekly Idol and Hip Hop Nation as a producer. He is recognized as having one of the cringiest styles of aegyo , which he has retired for now sadly. 

His talents as a rapper and lyricist are well recognized by many artist. He on and off stage persona may be a surprise to many at first because of of how different they are, with him performing as a tough and fierce rapper on stage and off stage a soft child who’s eyes disappear when he smiles.

Noticed by many fans Jooheon enjoys being praised for his work and will take criticism to mind all the time, thus when he receives very negative words it does affect him greatly.

He has released 2 mixtapes as of now first being Jung Ji and the second Out Of Control (Not Completely Out Yet).

He is currently learning English

I.M/Changkyun | Maknae, Rapper, Visual,Vocalist and 12D

Official Animal Onsie/Counterpart : Wolf / Brown Dog

Stage name I.M but many fans call him by his birth name Changkyun. I.M has a very odd personality, which is why he decided to call himself 12D. He first seems to be a very shy person never standing to far from his hyungs. But once he is let free his more interesting side shows , he will do weird dances, make weird noises or some interesting jokes. I.M like many maknaes tease his older hyungs, be it biting Shownu( on several occasions) or teasing Kihyun because of his height. 

During their survival show, No.Mercy , I.M entered late , during episode 8, which caused many of the contestants to be a bit hostile towards him, even current members stating how they did not like him for joining with an unfair advantage. Though they did warm up to him eventually when realizing he had the same dream of debuting as they did.

I.M is rap style is more calm and smooth which counterbalances Jooheon’s rapping style because of his deep voice which honestly sounds like some type of ASMR. You will also notice he looks to his left a lot as well as touches his face when raps.

He has released two mixtapes Who Am I and Madeleine 

He is also fluent in English because of his time living abroad as a child, though he does admit he is forgetting because he does not speak English often.

                                          Other Guides 

                           better than this, more humor and shorter

http://incorrectmonstaxquotes.tumblr.com/post/155805069597/a-guide-to-starships-newest-boy-group-monsta-x

A guide to Starship’s New Boy Group by incorrectmonstaxquotes

A beginners guide to monsta x  on kpopamino

Your guide to Monsta X  by Wearemonbebe

[junker-town]

I went to Disney on Ice and witnessed the evolution of the Disney Princess

I also maybe cried.

BROOKLYN — A tiny princess is wailing inside a giant plastic teacup. Her mother leans against it with one arm akimbo, mirroring the handle, and beams into the camera. The photographer waves a rattle behind the lens in a futile attempt to coax a smile out of the miserable toddler.

Zoom out, and you’ll see a sea of miniature royals, all pale pinks, blues, and yellows. Disney On Ice’s Dare to Dream show is about to start, and Barclay’s Center is packed for 11 a.m. on a Thursday. The entire pre- and elementary-school age population of New York seems to have skipped school to “celebrate what’s possible as five Disney heroines spark the courage inside us all.” Disney tells us we’re here “to find our inner hero.”

My seat is next to a woman named Tyra Brooks and her daughter Sanaa. It’s Sanaa’s third birthday, so Brooks and her husband, who live in Brooklyn, took the day off work to be here. Sanaa is obsessed with Moana, the lead character from the movie by the same name. On my other side sit Stacy Cruz, 27, and her little brother Wyatt, 9, who’s been begging to go to the show since he saw ads for it on TV. Cruz monitored tickets until she found these, which, at $15, she could afford. Wyatt skipped school in Manhattan, and Cruz took the day off from her two jobs nannying and working in retail. In front of me, Natalie Nunez from Queens and her daughters Melinda and Evelyn, who are four and nine, cheer as the lights dim.

Our master of ceremonies is a relentlessly positive woman on skates in a purple figure-skating dress and a blazer. She seems adamant that nothing has ever gone wrong that can't be made right. Happily Ever After is a destination, and this woman is on a mission to make sure we all end up there.

She announces Minnie and Mickey, and the place erupts. These kids scream for the two famous mice the way teens would react to Harry Styles, or whoever the Cool Teen Celebrity Du Jour is. Melinda, the four-year-old ballerina in front of me, grips the armrests of her seat, sways her torso back and forth, and shakes her head so violently that I think there’s a chance she’ll launch herself out of her chair.

Minnie and Mickey leave, and the Beauty and the Beast segment of the show begins. Gaston, the blow-hard who always made me uncomfortable as a child, shows up. He declares himself a handsome hero. None of these kids give a shit about him, but they go nuts when Belle glides out onto the ice holding a book.

You know the rest of the story; at the end, Gaston falls off the set in dramatic fashion, the Beast takes off his Beast costume under a cloud of dry ice and turns into a handsome man, and Belle finds true love. She closes her books and glides around with her prince to a love song that sounds like a Belinda Carlisle B-side and definitely wasn’t in the original movie.

The kids get a real kick out of the lifts and spins that these skaters are doing. Most of the performers were professional figure skaters; some Disney On Ice dancers have been Olympians. The actual athleticism on display here is impressive, beautiful.

Charlotte Wilder with a shakily-held iPhone

Cinderella’s story begins. She does her thing, and eventually the clock strikes 12. She skates away, thanks to the arbitrary curfew her asshole Fairy Godmother set. Our friendly MC — who’s been hovering at the edge of the rink while interjecting life lessons throughout the show — skates around to see if the glass slipper fits any little girls in the front row. It doesn’t. It also doesn’t fit the Ugly Stepsisters.

Did you know that in the Grimms’ Brother’s version, the Stepsisters cut off their heels so the shoe would fit? My mom used to read me the original fairy tales, peeling back the layer of frosting with which Disney coats these mostly-terrible stories. I loved them. They terrified me, but I was fascinated by the vivid descriptions, like the ones of the sisters’ mutilated feet bleeding all over the glass shoe. I couldn’t believe women would hurt themselves like that to be beautiful or loved. Or both.

Cinderella gets her prince. They dance around to another song that sounds a little bit like off-brand Tina Turner.

“No matter how mean, mean, mean everyone was, she was able to rise above bullying and bickering to be kind and hopeful,” says our MC. “She found her happily ever after, plus a cute new pair of shoes.”

“That’s bullshit!” I want to yell to the children around me. “Don’t just roll over when someone’s a dick! Stand up for yourselves! Buy your own shoes!” But I stay quiet.

We move on to Rapunzel from Tangled, a movie that came out after my childhood and which I haven’t seen. Rapunzel is still pretty damsel-in-distress-y, but she does whack a dude on the head with a frying pan in the first scene, which the kids (and I) get a total kick out of. There's also a horse comprised of two people — one for the front legs and one for the back legs. I’m not sure how they can see anything.

“There's a horse with two people and it's working?” Cruz marvels beside me. “Pretty cool.”

Rapunzel is sassier than Belle and Cinderella, but the story still ends with her skating off into the sunset with a prince.

It’s intermission. I leave my seat and pass a guy hawking lemonade and sno-cones instead of the usual beers Barclay’s sells. The floor is sticky with various forms of spilled sugar. I wait in line behind tens of princesses to use the bathroom, then go buy some cotton candy. The man asks if I want one with or without a crown. I say with, but it’s too small to fit my head, so I go back to my seat and give it to Melinda. It falls over her eyes and she giggles. Her mom takes it and puts it on.

Someone starts a chant — Elsa! Elsa! Elsa! — as the lights go down, and, indeed, here comes Elsa from Frozen. I haven’t seen this movie either (I should babysit more, or, like, have a child if I want to stay up to date), but I think the gist is that Elsa’s pissed at her sister for wanting to marry someone she’s only known for one day. In retaliation, Elsa turns all of Norway or wherever into a hellish winterscape using her magical powers. Then disappears and her sister has to find her.

It’s finally time for “Let It Go”, the hit song from Frozen which I somehow know all the words to. The crowd of children is singing along almost louder than Elsa is through her mic. Melinda and even little three-year-old Sanaa beside me know all the words.

Let it go, let it go That perfect girl is gone Here I stand!

Frozen’s abridged version ends and the MC spews a message about how truly loving someone means sacrificing everything you have for them, which, I mean, let’s all relax here, okay? Then Moana skates onto the stage and the screaming is more intense than it’s been for the whole show. I haven’t seen Moana either, but Google tells me it’s about a Polynesian girl whose grandmother has tasked her with saving her island and finding herself. The kids sing along to every word and dance in their seats. They — okay, I — take particular delight in a massive, sprawling crab with a sparkly shell whose costume seems impossible to skate in.

Charlotte Wilder

Sorry this picture is so shitty, but it was the best I could do

We meet a dude named Maui, who is not Moana’s love interest. I don’t think she has one, as far as I can tell. She’s just a determined girl who’s scared of the responsibility placed on her but willing to rise to the challenge. She overcomes her self-doubt as she sails around the ice rink on her motorized boat. Kids are screaming, “I AM MOANA!” as she sings, “I am Moana!” There are fireworks inside Barclays when she finally saves her island.

But hold on. I have to take you back to the first part of the show for a second, when Belle comes out and floats around the outer edge of the rink. She flips through the pages of her book, ignoring Gaston (and his puffed out chest) as he tells her he’s going to marry her. She begins to sing: “I want so much more than they have plaaaanned.”

Children are cheering, reaching toward the stage, and I, a full-grown woman, break down into sobs. I’m crying because these shows are money-grabs designed to make you feel. They are operations that strike at the core of your being with surgical precision: Turn the lights down here, crescendo up to a chorus and strike a soaring note there, insert a key change, spin some spotlights, make the heroines reach toward the sky with longing. Each element must’ve been focus-grouped and tested within a billion-dollar inch of its life to tug at specific ventricles of your heart. I am powerless against Disney’s execution of this emotional warfare.

But I’m also crying because I’m looking at all these little girls around me — earnest, excited, hopeful — and I want them to have more than anyone has planned for them. I want them to glide off into the bright lights with a prince the way Belle does, if that’s what they truly desire. But I also want them to throw an encyclopedia at the Beast’s head and start their own bookstore, if that’s what they’d prefer. I want all the Gastons of the world — because I know they’ll meet more than a few of them — to be taken down before they encounter them. I want this world to be more fair than it currently is.

And it must be said that Disney is, in its own way, changing.

Whether it’s because feminism sells these days, or because it’s what Disney thinks is The Right Message, the company seems to be Leaning In. The 30 minute cliff-notes of stories, and the order in which Disney On Ice chose to present them — from oldest to most recent— made Dare to Dream feel like a trip through the brand’s feminist awakening. We started with women whose only rewards are finding men, then moved on to a woman whose primary complication is her relationship with her sister, and ended with a girl who literally saves her entire people with the help of her badass grandmother.

“She persevered and never lost sight of herself,” says the cheerful MC of Moana, after praising Cinderella’s ability to land a man and new footwear an hour earlier. “That's what inner strength is all about. Be yourself!”

The princesses come out to take a bow. The kids give all of them, especially Moana, big cheers, but save the biggest for Mickey and Minnie. Then the skaters disappear. Melinda is clapping. Sanaa grins. So do their mothers. They’re in the Happily Ever After for a moment. But then the lights come up.