#that was actually something that struck me as odd in the scene!! beautiful as it was it just seemed off that Alex would lie down and

[redcoatchemist]

these tags!!!

"It's ok if it's you." I might just cry.

the "alex is so in love he could die" look

[honeybewrites]

Five Lines Tag

Thank you @willtheweaver for the tag!!

Rules: Find five lines based on the prompts you are given, then change ONE of the prompts at the end.

Lines are from Echoes of War Chronicles

CW: torture, induced seizures, blood

As always, if I missed a tag or a different one would be better, please comment/DM to let me know!!

A line about a building

703 felt her foot slip back into free air. Her body fumbling to right itself, but never getting the chance. The agent barreled into her, sending her completely over the side of the roof. She didn't scream. She'd fallen too many times to be frightened of it. But she did fire up at the agent. Landing a solid mark on their shoulder. Tipping their body back out of her sight. Before she could pull on her energy, she was crashing through the ceiling of the next building over. Dust and rubble flew up around her. Glass shattering. The building must have been desolate for her to have crashed through with such ease. Then she hit the ground and all the air left her lungs.

A sad line (prequel to EoWC before Fres and 703 ended up as enemies)

She screamed. Thrashing harder against the latches. There was blood running down her fingers now. Running down her feet. Her arms would be bruised too. The second seizure came. This time, Fres screamed from the pain. Body arching painfully off the table, pushing against their restraints. She could see their veins popping, their muscles spasming. Her own body ached from seeing Fres in pain. When they slumped back on the table, their head stayed down this time. Still gasping for air, fingers and limbs twitching every few seconds. She desperately looked to Healer Asurr, but they were curiously watching Fres. That cursed notebook open and pen in hand. The third seizure came. This time, she sobbed as Fres cried out. Screaming and thrashing was all she could do, and it did nothing to help her star.

A line about a drink (this is actually an old line from Rage's POV, so not actually part of EoWC anymore, but I still had fun writing this scene a while back)

Rage downed the drink, featuring for the bar tender to get him another. A woman slid up next to him, and he was struck momentarily by the oddness of her choosing to sit next to him, instead of one of the many other open seats, but then he noticed how beautiful she was. She was nearly as tall as him, her hair braided in rows, bandana to keep it out of her face. High cheek bones and sharp, piercing eyes, full of intensity and unrelenting fire. Her clothes were simple. A loose, sleeveless shirt that showed the elegant curves of her biceps and forearms, and cargo pants that accentuated her waist. Rage tried not to let his eyes linger on her curving muscles or the accentuated parts of her chest. It was unbecoming of a man to gawk at a lady. None the less, he felt his face heat a little, so he downed his shot again. "Tough evening I take it?" Her angelic voice was a little at odds with the mass of muscle that she was. It was a melody of its own unique design and Rage was eager to learn the song.

A line about the weather

Naturally it would be snowing. A winter storm really. Huge gusts. Swirling, violent white flakes and sharp cutting pieces of ice. These storms weren't common here either. Maybe one or two a year. If that. She always did have notoriously bad luck when it came to disastrous circumstances. Fres used to joke she made up ninety percent of their bad luck. Right now she was inclined to agree. She would manage though. Just like she always did.

A fun line (this isn't necessarily a "fun" scene, but I had fun writing it)

"Please, you need to eat something." Rage set a plate down in front of her. "If you don't want this food, I'll get you something else, but you need to eat. I'm telling you to eat. Slowly, she looked down at the plate before her. There was a few slices of bread. She didn't know what kind, but to her, any bread was good. What was better was the apple slices and mango pieces. Those were a delicacy. Any fruit was a rarity. Though why he was giving her food, she wasn't sure. She didn't feel very injured. At least not severely enough to warrant a meal. Perhaps she was more injured than she realized? He had told her to eat. Surely... Master Gerd couldn't get upset when she had simply followed orders. Rage was her handler after all. If he told her to eat, she needed to obey. She took the plate, gingerly eating. Ancients. It was heavenly. The bread was warm, and there seemed to be some kind of... topping on it? Liquid and sweet, like honey, but much thinner and not quite as sweet. It was delicious all the same. The apple was the best thing she'd ever put in her mouth. Sweet and crisp and juicy. She could eat apples every day and never grow tired of them. The mango was nearly was good. Sweet with a little tanginess to it. Much softer than the apple though. It wasn't a bad thing, but she preferred the crunch of the apples.

Tagging @orions-quill @halfbakedspuds @diabolical-blue @fractured-shield and anyone else that wants to hop on!!

Your lines are:

A line about food

A sad line

A line about a book/reading

A line about the weather

A fun line

[blackjackkent]

OK, time to continue Rakha's adventures in Moonrise Towers. We've acquired Minthara, but Rakha's also picked up a hell of a lot of new questions, based on the fact that everyone in Moonrise seems to know her from before her memory loss - and, frankly, none of them seem to like her much.

On the bright side, this new mystery is helping distract her from the beast's obsession with going back and killing Isobel. The downside is she wants to kill Ketheric more than ever. :P

Plenty of trouble ahead for her to get into, but we left off in the middle of a long rest, and Rakha - observant as she is - notices that something is off in the camp.

Specifically, Gale is not there - and there's a hologram version of him here instead.

(The whole Moonrise camp is actually fucky atm. Gale is standing in the middle of things rather than in his tent, and Halsin doesn't appear to have a tent at all. I'm assuming this is some sort of glitchiness because Minthara is here and he and Minthara were originally supposed to be mutually exclusive? Not sure though.)

"Good evening!" the illusion says cheerfully as Rakha approaches. "I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep. He wishes to extend you an invitation for a private conversation in a more suitable locale."

Rakha doesn't answer immediately. She is too busy being fascinated by the illusive construct. She's seen Gale summon these sort of images before - images of Mystra in particular - but this one is FAR more complex, a much more interesting magical invocation. The Weave swirls around it in brilliant prismatic swirls.

It takes her a moment to remember that it said something, and another moment to realize it's something she should respond to. An invitation?

"Very well," she says, mildly bemused. "Show me the way."

-----

She's more than a little displeased when the illusion leads her outside, away from Moonrise. They're safe with the pixie's blessing, of course, but still she hates wandering around in the shadow curse, feeling its corrupted sting on her skin, the way the Weave seems ripped into pieces by its darkness.

So she is equally surprised when she reaches the small clearing near the Tower to which Gale has retreated... and finds it saturated in light.

Gale sits in the middle of the clearing. His hands are lifted as if conducting a silent orchestra, and all around him the shadows have been driven back. The Weave, triumphant, exultant, swirls around him in waves of pure magical beauty. The blank emptiness of the sky is replaced with a sea of stars and rippling aurora.

She is struck to stillness and for a few minutes simply stands there, watching, drinking in the soft touch of the unbroken Weave around her. It reminds her of the night, months ago now, when he channeled his power through her and she felt safe, for almost the first time that she could remember - cocooned inside the magic that both of them love beyond anything.

Finally she stirs, takes a few soft steps forward to sit down at his side.

He watches her in silence, then slowly returns his eyes to the majestic display he has conjured above them.

"I love this time of night," he murmurs. "There's an almost reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you'd almost believe the dawn will never break. The cradle of eternity." His lips twitch and he flicks a glance at Rakha. "The timelessness of lovers, that most beautiful of fantasies."

(A/N: This scene is a smidgen odd if you're not romancing Gale and definitely seems intended to imply he still has feelings for you regardless. I basically skipped over the initial scene implying this when it happened in Act 1 and am continuing to skip over it now; I don't think he and Rakha have that kind of relationship. So in this case I think he's just acknowledging what Rakha has found with Wyll and that he's happy for her.)

Rakha is only half-listening; her attention is still fixated on the magic surrounding them. "It's breathtaking, Gale," she says quietly - which for her is quite effusive. "Is this starry sky your doing?"

"Indeed," he answers. "The curse is still present, of course - just veiled and at arm's length for now. Not a trick I can repeat often, but tonight?" He sighs heavily. "Tonight is different."

She quirks an eyebrow questioningly but for a little while he falls silent again, contemplating the swirling magic, its eddies and ripples. "This may be my last night alive," he finally goes on quietly. "I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder. I thought this place might bring me peace. I thought it might make the weight of what I must do a little lighter. But... I am not so sure."

She can understand that. Many times the beauty of the Weave has been the only peace that she has known against the raging war being constantly fought within her mind. What he seeks peace from, though, is something more direct and tangible.

This may be my last night alive.

He is thinking of the orb. Of Mystra's instructions that he should destroy himself.

Rakha's jaw sets with sudden rage on the wizard's behalf. Mystra, this god he follows, claims power over all of magic, and yet she has no other solution than Gale's destruction? No. She will see many other deaths before she is through - but not Gale's. Not any of her companions. That is one of the things that sets her apart from the beast in her head that would see everyone dead in the same great pool of blood.

"I refuse to believe," she mutters hoarsely, "that this is the end. We'll find another way. I promise."

Gale meets her eyes for a moment and a slight smile touches his lips. "Thank you," he says. "But... even if we do find another way, perhaps this is the right way. The end fate wishes for me."

He rubs his fingers absently against his chest, where the orb waits beneath his skin, subtly sucking at the magic around him, hungry and all-consuming.

"There is no point in running from the inevitable," he says. "Better to meet it on my own terms."

Rakha is quiet for a moment then. Yes. She can understand that, if she is honest. How many times has she raged at the beast not for its violence but for the choice that was denied her, to choose her kills with purpose?

There is much that still lies ahead. Many possibilities. She will not see Gale die if she can do anything to avoid it. But she can respect his desire to make his own choice.

"You sound sure in your course of action then," she says, her voice uncharacteristically soft.

"Resigned to it, rather," he says. His voice cracks subtly and he squeezes his eyes shut, looking away. "But that is not to say I am without fear. Far from it..."

He hesitates, then shifts so he can brush his knuckles gently against her arm. "Stay with me a while, will you? Day will come all too soon, even in this place..."

(A/N: The affirmative answer here is, "I'm not going anywhere, Gale. I'll be by your side, whatever dawn brings," which is WAY too effusive for Rakha. :P So slight artistic license here to give her a different line.)

"Yes," she agrees calmly. "And we will meet it. Whatever it brings."

He shifts with an air of sudden frustration. Around them, the rippling rhythm of the Weave stutters suddenly, bright flashes mixing with the even flow. "Yes. But there is so much to live for, and so few moments in which to house it all," he says, his voice suddenly tight, strained. "Damn you!"

Her head snaps back in surprise as he turns towards her fiercely. "Damn you," he goes on, "for giving me so much to care about! Our friends, our adventures... this would have been so much easier if it was just me."

His shoulders sag and he slumps back on his hands. "But it isn't. If there is a way - any way - to save all that's grown dear to me, I want to seize it! I just can't fathom what that might be, other than to fail Mystra and condemn the world."

He sounds tired suddenly, and deeply sad. Rakha has no answer for him - but again, she can understand what he means. It would be easy, indeed, if she did not care for him, or the others who have become her companions. If she did not have them to guide her, and could simply indulge the beast urge in whatever maniacal bloody road it chose to lead her on.

Much easier. And impossible.

He watches her expression; it's hard to say how much of her thoughts he can guess at, but he smiles slightly.

"Stay with me, will you?" he asks softly. "I don't want to think of it anymore, but I don't want to be alone either."

Stay with him and watch the stars in silence.

She nods slowly, and lets herself sink back without a word onto the grass until she is lying on her back staring at the ceiling of stars that he has constructed out of the darkness. She lets the Weave, uncorrupted and pure, sink through her skin into her bones.

And she wonders what will become of them both.

[mxtxfanatic]

Wei Wuxian’s farmhouse dreams/Wangxian retiring into seclusion are viable (and present) options for post-canon, probably just in a more distant future than where the extras leave off. Here’s an author’s note from mxtx early in the novel:

In the previous chapter, the readers’ focus was so weird. _(:з)∠)_ Why does the ten odd rabbits have to be the offspring of the two male rabbits? Lan Er Ge Ge also knows how to catch rabbits. When they’ve retired and enter seclusion together, they’ll catch even more rabbits and rear them together. (*^_^*)

–Chapt. 20: Harmony Part 2: Husband and husband going down the mountain as a pair, taming wangxian

Then there’s also this:

He sat on the donkey with his legs criss-crossed. He swayed as he pretended to be unconcerned, “Speaking of it,

HanGuang-Jun, do you plan on ever retiring?”

Lan WangJi paused shortly, as though he was thinking for a moment. Wei WuXian struck the iron while it was still hot, “Have you thought of what to do after you retire?”

Lan WangJi gazed at him, “Not yet.”

Wei WuXian thought to himself, It’s perfect if you haven’t thought of anything yet! I’ll think for you.

He was going to find a place beautiful though sparsely populated and build a large house there. He could build one for Lan WangJi next to him as well. Everyday there’d be two dishes and a soup. Of course, it’d be best if Lan WangJi was the one who cooked, or else they had to eat the things he cooked. It’d be best if Lan WangJi was responsible for the account of their money as well. Before his eyes even appeared the scene of Lan WangJi wearing coarse cloth, patches at his chest and his knees, sitting expressionlessly at a handmade wooden table, counting coins one by one. After he finished counting, he grabbed a hoe and went out to work. And, on the other hand, he’d... he’d... he’d do what?

–Chapt. 67: Tenderness, exr

(This quote actually goes into more detail about the plans, but you get the point.) Keeping in mind that while this second one is a pre-confession daydream, Wei Wuxian is, at this point in the story, already aware of Lan Wangji’s feelings (just missing the confirmation part) as well as his own and has committed to the idea of a life together. This is something that Wei Wuxian has thought about in detail for a while, now, going back to even his first life:

“...” Lan WangJi stared at the two making casual conversation, “Your dream?”

Wei WuXian was laughing so hard he might suffer from an internal injury, “Pwahahahahahahahaha, uh, yes. For a certain period of time, for some reason, I keep on having these dreams. I’d dream that we retired to seclusion to the countryside. I go out to hunt and farm, while you stay at home to guard the house, weaving and cooking food for me. Oh right, you’re also in charge of my money and doing accounts for me. At night you even mend my clothes. Every time I dream about telling you to boil the bathwater so that we could bathe together at night, but every time we were about to take off our clothes I’d wake up. What a shame, hahahahahahahahahahaha...”

–Chapt. 117: Extra (Incense Burner 1), exr

And while we can infer that this is a dream from his first life – particularly because of the innocence of stopping before any sex happens and also due to the fact that the next dream is rooted in teenage Lan Wangji’s fantasies – I’d say this dream still reoccurs in the present. Because in this version, Lan Wangji doesn’t have a separate home; he and Wei Wuxian live together. So yeah, this is why my headcanon is that they eventually do leave the Cloud Recesses to be in seclusion/retirement together.

(Plus, Wei Wuxian also imagines that they just leave seclusion “if they get bored,�� so I imagine that seclusion and retirement aren’t some no-take-backs life commitment to him.)

[bluebunnyears-08]

A Deep In-Depth Analysis of Nine 1/9: Warped Isolation Part 2

Hello! Welcome to the second part of this analysis of my favorite character in the Sonic media! Now in the first part, we discussed Nine's home life, and how that home life pushed him into firm isolation. But now I want to talk about the effects that Sonic had on him that not only furthered his bad ideals but made Nine possibly realize something both beautiful and horrifying.

Let us begin, shall we?

Section Three: "Sonic?"

We left off with Sonic running off, Nine surprisingly chasing after him. As Sonic carelessly walks around New Yolk, Nine tells him firmly to stay quiet and out of sight. Only for Sonic to tell that when Nine remembers, not knowing Nine is just a variant yet, being sneaky and silent is not his forte.

What do ya know, they get captured. And as the baby flies off with them, they have a typical sibling argument of 'yes', 'no', and repeating. Then Nine asks in his usual snarky way if Sonic was sure they were friends. But we don't get Sonic's response, instead, it just goes to Rouge and Knucks.

Then Sonic wakes as if having been knocked out, which is interesting to me because we don't see what happened before, or what happened in between those two points. Sonic wakes up, first attempting to escape, only for Nine to solemnly state that he's wasting his breath. Then Sonic meets Rusty and the Council.

Some banter later, and the Council performs some tests. Interestingly Nine's behavior is to take note here. He's more concerned for the hedgehog, calling out his name in worry at first. Which makes me question what did Nine see after they were captured by the Council? What happened to Sonic to make him fall asleep in between.

During the tests, there was something that struck me as odd. Nine never saw Sonic run, not really, which has me question why he suddenly remarked that he has the same energy that powered the city.

His behavior toward the council here is interesting as well. Like he did in the last episode, Nine stays entirely neutral with them, not having a side to choose yet. But then comes the energy extractor scene. Sonic is forced to say his last words, remarking about all his friends. Saving a very special person for last.

As the energy extractor gets closer and closer, we get three separate shots of Nine and get more and more worried. Then Sonic speaks his actual last words:

"See ya, Buddy."

And Nine's face is visibly shaken.

I think this is where his wake-up was, where his cold splash of reality came. The realization that this hedgehog not only cared for him but was also his only hope of having a happy life was now about to be lost forever. That he can't lose this hedgehog or let him get killed. This was where his attachment came in tenfold.

Rebel manages to save Sonic, and Nine while everyone's distracted, moves to the computer, getting the cuffs off and freeing Sonic. Notice how he goes from not doing anything when Sonic is threatened, to being the most protective of the hedgehog.

When Sonic was being attacked by Rusty, there's an urgency that Nine understands, but he doesn't panic he keeps calm and stops the robot from annihilating the hedgehog. He disregards Rusty as a robot because to him it is. That's all she is and nothing more.

They defeat the robots and Sonic pulls them into a group hug, which they all pull away, disgusted and annoyed. They then plan to get the Shard and all go to receive it.

There's a fight scene, and all of them fight, yet Nine notices Sonic is in trouble first and immediately goes to help him, and only helps him other than himself in the battle. This I think shows Nine's emotional attachment becoming a protective instinct.

Then even more fighting later, Nine and Sonic manage to get to the shard. Nine goes ahead but Sonic hesitates, reflecting their ideals and views on others. Nine doesn't care for anything other than things they need, or in this case what Sonic needs, he doesn't stop for others and goes ahead, leaving them behind as long as they got what was needed.

Sonic, however, waits and stops, always willing to stop for others to help, it didn't matter that the thing he wanted, needed, was right there in front of him, others always come first. Only after an urging from Rouge and a gruff call from Nine does Sonic go ahead.

They get to the Shard and Sonic exclaims that it's too small before realizing what happened. Notice how while Sonic's clearly in distress, Nine doesn't try to comfort him, more concerned with more shards. This rather reflects on Nine's just birthing emotional attachment to Sonic is rather weak at the time and his attachment to Sonic is merely what he can have from it, not how it makes Sonic feel for now.

It's only when the Council attempts to break out that Nine still doesn't comfort him, but tells him to snap out of it, showing a rather mature understanding that they needed their heads straight.

That is until Sonic grabs the shard, and he begins to get pulled in. It's then that Nine shows concern, asking 'what's happening, to which Sonic merely responds by saying his name as he's pulled him.

As the hedgehog is Nine reaches out to try and keep the hedgehog from getting sucked in but it is too late. Nine calls his name, asking where he is in desperation ad concern. Then as his expression changes to one of sadness and melancholy, the screen moves away from him, reflecting how Nine is alone once more.

The screen turned black and only one word is said by Nine, a word said with confusion, worry, and sadness.

"...Sonic?"

I am going to continue from Nine's perspective as best I can but I wanted to mention this detail. While we do see what happens when Sonic is sucked into the shard, it's different with Nine. Instead of peaceful natural surroundings, or Dread cheering with joy, it's just darkness and silence the only word of Sonic's name being uttered, nothing more.

Back to Nine, he snaps out of his trance when he realizes that the Council is about to get in. Without skipping a beat he goes and uses something to grab the shard. He does not touch it unlike everyone else.

I have a theory that touching the shard puts that person's desires to the extreme, Thorn's desire to protect the jungle, Dread's obsessiveness for the Shard, and even Sonic's desire to go home, trying to send him there.

But I also have another idea that touching the shard can also be a test of that person's free will. Dread is a variant of Knuckles, the brave but naive echidna that was tricked by Eggman, Amy is the empathetic one, through Thorn is deeply affected by the shard to enhance the protective sense towards nature, snapping out of it when she sees what she did. Because Nine didn't touch the shard, he wasn't affected. Yet. But even if he does, I think it would either take a long time or he'd be able to manage it because he is a variant of Tail's, the brain and logical thinker of the group.

I'll probably elaborate on this theory later in a separate post.

Anyway, Nine grabs the shard and manages to sneak away unseen. It's when he's out of the vault that he sees the Rebels and Rusty, their eyes light up when they see him thinking he can help. There's no hesitance, Nine immediately glares at them, before leaving them behind, choosing isolation once more. But I think this could be an unconscious moment of self-destruction, leaving them behind and ruining his chances of other friendships.

Unhealthy isolation can lead to being self-destructive and pushing others away in a belief of it being 'self-preservation', of it being a warped form of something good, something safe. Nine is caught in two addictions; the addiction of isolation, believing he needs it to be safe, and to feel comfortable, and the growing addiction to his growing affection and love for Sonic.

We don't see what Nine did after he showed the shard yet. But he comes back when Sonic is caught in a fight with the rebels. This is where our next and (for now) last section begins.

Section Four: "It could be home."

Now we come to the last section until the second batch is released. We see Nine again when Sonic is in a battle between the Eggman's and the Rebels, Sonic was in trouble, and Nine came rather conveniently to his aid. When Sonic hops into his ship, Nine immediately leaves, leaving behind the rebels once more. Sonic originally protests, but Nine refuses, telling Sonic to tell him where he was first.

Sonic goes on to tell him his tale of the Boscage Maze, and Nine responds that confirms his theory that the shard is capable of so much more. He shows Sonic the shard, confirming that he did in fact leave the rebels for dead. Then he brings Sonic to the Grim.

This is a HUGE factor in Nine's character. First of all the scenery is one of a wasteland, with orange cracked grounds, grey crystals, and a wide endless blue sky with dozens of stars.

The Grim is just empty.

No people, no plants, no water, just beautiful emptiness. This is a huge factor in Nine's psyche if he made this world himself, but it could still be a huge insight into his mindset. It shows nothing but loneliness, a never-ending world of nothingness.

It's warped loneliness at its finest.

They land and get off the ship. Nine graciously welcome Sonic to 'their bright new future'. Not his, 'THEIR'. He's letting Sonic into his circle of isolation. But he isn't willing to break down his warped isolation.

Look at Nine here.

He's adorably excited for the first time we've seen him. Nine smiles in this scene more than he does in the first batch of the show. It's the first time he's genuinely smiling for more than two seconds. He is happy in this world, he's excited that he's going to have the world he oh, so wanted.

He describes it as possibly being home, the 'one Sonic lost', the 'one he never had'. This wording is very important, Nine is offering a new home for both of them. This indicates that Nine was at this for a while.

He still can't let go of the idea of isolation, offering a home that was isolated from everything else. He's asking Sonic to abandon his old home for this new one, which we all KNOW Sonic would never do. Sonic responds that it's not going anywhere, once again urging Nine to help out the rebels.

Nine's face changes from a mix of surprise and hurt to hardening frustration. He coldly rebuffs his disinterest in helping the city, but he doesn't force Sonic to stay. He allows Sonic to go back.

Then he comes back when Sonic is once again in danger. He states that he's going home after this and never looking back, that whether he goes with Sonic is entirely up to the hedgehog.

Only for Nine to get captured by the Council. But it's heavily implied he planned this. What his plan is exactly, we don't know yet.

Alright! So this is what I've got on Nine's warped sense of isolation so far until season 2 comes out. I hope y'all enjoyed it, see you in another post! <3

[fanaticsnail]

meant to send this yesterday but the sleepy got me so....

Off to an amazing start with my dad coming up behind me during opening credits/music and asking if I'm watching Tom & Jerry.

Thats such a pretty frame!

I wasnt expecting singing!! But hell yeah!! Sing your funky songs, bug man! - Ooooooh, is that a watercolor background? So pretty!

THE 🏹 BLACK ⚫️ FOX 🦊 - "Good friend Griswold from the north" Snail, is there something you'd like to sbare with the class?

Also, the costuming! I havent seen this many men in tights since Romeo and Juliet!

Sword Fight⁉️

Quick aside; his daughter looks so unbothered. Also, what is she embroidering? Is that a map? - "You marry griswold" -girl, I CACKLED

The King X Griswold- 20 k slowburn, friends to lovers - The singing should not surprise me as much as it does. I was practically raised on bollywood, so its not like im not used to it, maybe its because this is Hollywood not Bollywood, so I'm not used to it here? - Wearing his clothes is one thing, but did Hawkins make 6 additional Fox outfits for his friends? I'm starting to see the Buggy comparison you were making

I've always been under the belief that every weird little man needs a weird little child. So far, I'm not disappointed

Pretty sets, pretty people, what's not to love? - UGHHHH this is so soft, I love itttttt

question: did he do his own singing for this? singing for yourself isn't common in Bollywood so idk. - ONE BED? ONE BED!!??!??!!

Damn, no song in the swiss Alps, but worth it to see this little nerd short-circuit around a pretty girl. Ripe for the fic writing, this scene.

Me and who? ME AND FUCKING WHO?

Couples who commit crimes together stay together. Nothing like some good old treason to set the mood. - waitwaitwaitwaitwait she's actually a witch????

If Jean and Hawkins aren't endgame I'll cry - This movie is like if the Princess Bride and Once Upon A Mattress had a child and made Monty Python and the Holy Grail the godparent - JEAN 🩷✨💋 (she didn't do anything, I just think she's pretty) - Snail! Snail, why haven't you written this fic yet??? - I-I don't think that's how lightning works......could be wrong tho, who's to say, I've never been struck by lightning.

They're both the same flavor of stupid, bless - HIS FUCGKNG HEAD!! - That white shirt 🫦 That orange dress 🫦🫦 - THE 🏹 BLACK ⚫️ FOX 🦊

What the hell is going on???????????? - UGH, what an icon - okokokokok so the king is on the throne now but he's still....yk a baby. Give me a 10k fic about Jean being a girl boss and running the kingdom while Hawkins sits there like the goof he is and just admires her. 10k words of him being the biggest simp in existence.

-♡♡

Me at you right now:

"With your permission, my lady. I'd like to go round again."

I love Danny Kaye and Basil Rathbone. The fact that Angela Lansbury is there too as a gorgeous young, sassy princess is just my favourite thing.

"If it pleases me, you will marry Griswold." "If it pleases you so much, you marry Griswold." -> yes, queen. Get it. She is going to be the model for the type of sass Sir Crocodile's Sapsorrow is going to need to endure.

Your commentary is everything. The shipping of Griswold and the King is just hilarious. I need it 🤌.

Hawkins x Jean is beautiful. The whole plot is simply the best: failing forward incarnate. The masquerade trifecta. The disguises. The songs. The wenches. The silly dancing. Danny Kaye can absolutely sing, and his voice is gorgeous. His speciality was reciting tongue twisters.

My favourite line in the whole movie is: "Sometimes tenderness and kindness can also make a man. A very rare man." Coming from a strong woman who had to claw tooth and nail to become the pinacle of her rank. In the 50s.

Again, I love this movie to much that I got a tattoo of it.

I hope you liked it. It's an odd one, I'll give you that. It's one of my childhood favorites.

[food4dogs]

WEEKEND CHAT :: 9 JANUARY 2023 :: TV DRAMA - Part 2

This is a new listing on Netflix - a movie adaptation of Louis Bayard's novel The Pale Blue Eye (2006). I came very close to buying the book a while ago, but didn't in the end. PoodlePa and I have both read, and enjoyed, Roosevelt's Beast (2014 - a reimagining of Teddy and Kermit Roosevelt's ill-fated 1914 Amazon expedition - the European edition is titled The Beast in the Jungle). So we were naturally keen to catch up with this story!

And: it did not disappoint. The cinematography is beautiful. The pacing of the story does not falter, the script is convincing and at times harrowing. And the cast is simply excellent.

The conclusion of a murder mystery is of course always the sticking point, and seldom is everybody completely satisfied. Here we have what looks like an ending/explanation that feels strangely melodramatic and lurid ... only for us to find out that there is a true, final, complete ending - fittingly right at the end!

Bayard likes to incorporate real-life characters and events into his fiction, and this one features Edgar Allan Poe, who did briefly attend West Point Military Academy. The two main characters are played superbly by Christian Bale and Harry Melling (forever remembered as the pudgy Dudley Dursley in Harry Potter).

I was struck how closely the casting department managed to match the looks of the real EA Poe by choosing Melling! It's almost unreal.

There is even an article about Harry Melling, his evolution as an actor, and his role as the famous poet, including his resemblance with Poe: "Melling has the eyes—and the sense of dread and sadness welled within them."

I hope you get a chance to watch it - we enjoyed it very much!

Finally, let's have a look at White Noise. As I have mentioned/posted before, I have the original 1985 novel edition, and watching the Netflix adaptation made me quickly re-read the book.

DeLillo is an odd writer of fiction. I sometimes think he's more of an incisive commentator on our world than he is a story-teller. He's good at creating characters and scenes, please don't get the wrong impression. But something always nags at me, insisting that - however wonderful and metaphorical his language - he's more intent on telling us what a crazy world we live in than what really happens to the people in these stories.

Noah Baumbach has made a valiant attempt to bring "the unfilmable novel" to the screen and it's good and watchable. The 'trick' he used to make the story digestible, make us care about the characters and events, is that he focused very closely on the people. He makes it into quite a traditional movie story (as long as you don't mind some weird and even disturbing happenings) really. Whereas the book is stuffed to the gills with description, analysis, dissection, weird and wonderful connections. That is impossible to portray in a movie. I noticed that most of the movie critics appear not to have read the book itself.

The other reason why White Noise didn't make a really big impact on me is probably the cast. I'm not the biggest fan (just my personal taste) of Adam Driver (he's a perfectly good actor, of course) or Greta Gerwig. The one actor I did enjoy seeing was Lars Eidinger - he really is very good, especially in these creepy roles!

Considering the difficulties of adapting this 'material' from the novel, I could forgive White Noise many things; and also need to acknowledge that the children were tremendously well acted (very natural) - my pick is Raffey Cassidy, one to watch.

But what I can't forgive is the ending. It's far too bubble gum colourful happy (?) and actually doesn't make much sense. The book's ending is also set in the supermarket. But it's a savage view, nothing is spared in terms of focusing a laser eye on modern consumerism and slavish acceptance of the terms of engagement with American society.

That last page of the novel says Everything. If you get a chance, please do read it!

For balance, you might like to read a very positive assessment of the movie:

If you made it this far - Thank You for reading. 🙏🏻

[bepractical]

Daredevil: Season 1, Episode 1, Part 2

I’m back with part 2 of the season 1, episode 1 recap of Netflix’s Daredevil. Sorry for the lengthy delay! There’s a lot to get into.

In part 1, Little Matthew Murdock went one round with a giant truck full of HAZARDOUS MATERIALS and lost. We met his dad, his priest, his favorite recurring criminal, and his best friend for life, Foggy Nelson. We were also introduced to Karen Page, the prettiest murder suspect in Manhattan, and James Wesley, Fisk’s harbinger on the street. You can find part 1 here.

Now it’s time to spring Karen from the joint, pull on those black jammies, meet our roster of second tier bad guys, and finally get the band together.

We pick up sometime after Karen’s scream for help. Matt and Foggy are back at the station trying to strong arm the shady detectives into just releasing her already. They threaten to plaster Karen’s beautiful, tv-ready face all over the news until she’s set free and they get some answers. One possible question, how did the security cameras by Karen’s cell turn off right as all this went down? 

It’s here that we gain another little nugget of insight into the mind of Matthew Murdock. Turns out, he’s kind of a shit. Foggy revs up the sass with the shady detectives but Matt brings that little something extra that makes you worry they’ll punch him in the face or, you know, shoot him.   

Shady Detective 1: I’ll call the ADA. But you take that tone with me again, I don’t care if you’re blind, I’ll kick the shit out of you.

Like that. 

It’s hot. 

The detectives leave, and Matt and Foggy puzzle over why they’re willing to release Karen so easily. Matt posits that there was additional evidence at the scene that pointed to another suspect, evidence that would have only been released if Karen was formally charged. 

This tiny moment feels indicative of some of the future conflict between Matt and Foggy. I’m gonna make a mental note and we’ll get back to it. Probably. For now I’ll say that Matt is quick to consider/recognize possible corruption in the justice system and Foggy shakes off the idea.

At Nelson & Murdock, Foggy makes Karen some hot tea and the boys ease her into a gentle interrogation. Turns out Karen doesn’t know who is trying to kill her, but she does know why.

Karen’s story, round 2: Union Allied Construction, Karen’s former employer, has been rolling in dough due to their work on the reconstruction of Hell’s Kitchen post-alien attack. Karen was accidentally sent a hinky file that showed they were laundering money through the company pension fund. She told her boss, he lied like a rug, so she reached out to Daniel the dead guy, who worked for the legal department. They met at a bar to talk, they were drugged and Daniel was murdered.

Karen freaks. Either Matt and Foggy are with Union Allied or she’s going to get them killed. Foggy awkwardly comforts her like the sweetheart he is while Matt offers to take her home until they’re sure she’s safe.

At his apartment, Matt gives Karen a grand tour and we get our first glimpse of the reason a pro-bono lawyer can afford an enormous corner apartment in NYC. 

Matt gives Karen a dry shirt. There’s an odd moment where she changes in front of him that I think is meant to serve as another reminder to the audience that, yes, Matt IS actually blind, but it just struck me as awkward and titillation for titillation’s sake. Very curious to hear other people’s thoughts on this.

The two chat about Matt’s blindness. Karen is super nosey, as is her wont, but charming. She asks about the accident and if Matt remembers what it was like to see. Matt takes off his glasses, in what may be the only time he does so around Karen until season 3.

Matt: You know, I'm supposed to say I don't miss it. That's what they teach you in trauma recovery. Define yourself by what you have, value the differences, make no apologies for what you lack. And it's all true, for the most part, but it doesn't change the fact that I'd give anything to see the sky one more time.

Karen watches Matt, completely mesmerized. She barely has time to process when Matt puts his glasses back on; he has some questions for her now.

Let’s take a beat to discuss this scene. The way I interpret it, this whole conversation is about Matt teeing Karen up for more questioning. He knows she’s lying about something, so he takes the time to make her comfortable before poking holes in her story. At the same time, he is disarmed by her questions, her genuine interest. Karen is an incredibly genuine, empathetic person. She’s also curious. She wants to know everything about everyone, it is an incredibly consistent character trait of hers (though this feels like the last time she’s so blatantly nosey with Matt- is that possible???). Matt, who’s about to start his own little fishing expedition, can’t help but respond to that. He answers her earnestly because Matt is nothing if not earnest. 

Matt stands and turns toward Karen. He’s Lawyer Matt now. He lays out his hypothesis, an addendum to her latest story. It goes like this: Karen was left alive when Daniel the dead guy was killed because she still has something the people who killed him wanted. A copy of the pension file.

Karen watches Matt like a mouse caught in a trap, but when Matt asks her outright if she has the file she denies it. He listens to her heartbeat and knows that she’s lying, but he lets it go for now.

On the roof of Union Allied, this season’s bad guys hold a meet & greet. Owlsley is complaining, his primary character trait. Madame Gao and Nobu are side-by-side while the Russian brothers prowl around in a little huddle. They’re waiting for Fisk, but they get Wesley instead. He extends his apologies to all of them, specifically Madame Gao. I don’t remember the extent of Fisk’s Hand knowledge. Does he know she’s a big time, immortal player? 

The Russians are pissed, Vladimir in particular. They’re not interested in dealing with a flunky. How can they trust a dude who won’t show his face? One that Wesley insists on calling ‘my employer’ while hushing anyone who tries to say his name like Fisk is freaking Voldemort?

They start to storm away in a huff but Wesley calls them back. He asks about them ‘being late on the cargo totals.’ I’m gonna remember this moment, cause there will be a time a few episodes from now when I’m briefly inclined to sympathize with Fisk and think that maybe he could do some good in the city. Dude is knee deep in human trafficking. THE CARGO IS PEOPLE. FISK IS NOT A GOOD GUY. Make a note.

The Russians tell them about the man in the black mask, which is a tough sell, to say the least, especially when they get to the part where he took down all their men using only his fists. Owlsley snarks at them.

Owlsley: Heroes and their consequences are why we have our current opportunities.

He thinks vigilantes are good for business, that they contribute to lawlessness.

Wesley asks for more details. He and Gao are surprised to hear the man in black didn’t try to take the victims for himself. Everyone bickers for a while, about the man in black, about Union Allied, about another mobster named Prohaszka. I’m delighted that neither the villains nor Matt realize how thoroughly he, a single dude, is messing with their business.

At Matt’s apartment, Karen sneaks out. Matt is sleeping on the couch and hears her but doesn’t try to stop her. He wants to know what she’s hiding. 

She runs to her apartment in the rain (totally doable in Hell’s Kitchen). After pausing to stare at Daniel the dead guy’s blood stain, she grabs a USB she hid in the ceiling. She breathes a sigh of relief. Then someone sneaks up on her in the dark apartment. Unlike Park Guy, this Assassin Guy does not mess around. He immediately starts slamming her head into the wall and it’s all really scary and violent. He picks up the USB and pockets it and is just about to go after Karen with a knife when Matt appears. 

Fuck yeah. I love a sneaky hero who appears out of the shadows. It affords many opportunities to fist pump when they show up.

Matt and Assassin Guy go to town. He’s a much better fighter than the dudes Matt fought by the river. There’s a lot of tossing around and at one point Matt parkours off Karen’s wall. Once again I attempted to get some quality screen shots but they all looked like this.

Yeah.

Anyway, they finally manage a synchronized swan dive out the window. It is by pure dumb luck that Karen’s apartment is on a lower floor and there’s an incredibly convenient dumpster beneath her window, which breaks their fall.

Our sweet Matty is down for the count. We cut to a flashback of Little Matt, who fell asleep at his kitchen table doing homework. He’s wearing enormous sunglasses, so you know this is post-accident. Daddy Jack finds him there and wakes him up, encourages him to finish his work. Jack is beat to hell. He wants Matt to take his education seriously, so he doesn’t end up like him. Jack sits down and lets Matt explore his injuries.

The Jack in the past and the Jack that lives in Matt’s head both tell him the same thing. “Come on Matty, get to work.”

Cut to Matt on the ground, spitting up blood. He pushes himself off the ground and immediately gets into it with Assassin Guy. Some of the fight is in slow mo, which is used to give us some idea of how Matt’s powers work, how he’s able to anticipate where people will be, or what weapons are nearby. At this point it seems like he’s mostly dependent on sound. 

The two tussle for a minute until Matt finally gets the upper hand and strings the guy up with a chain around his neck. He collapses to the ground and tries to catch his breath. Karen’s face is all of us.

She goggles at Matt, who picks himself up again and rummages through Assassin Guy’s pockets for the USB. He promises to get it to the police, but Karen convinces him they can’t be trusted. As a compromise they leave Assassin Guy tied up with the USB in an envelope labeled EDITOR outside the office of the Bulletin. Okay.

The next morning, presumably, the story has broken.

Wesley drives around in the back seat of a car and discusses the coverup with Fisk on speaker. It involves killing a bunch of patsies, namely Karen’s old boss, Park Guy and Assassin Guy. The main takeaways from this conversation- 1) Fisk is concerned about how Assassin Guy was subdued (it’s Matt!) 2) Fisk is interested in Nelson & Murdock, since they represented Karen (also Matt!). Again, Matt is messing with their business on multiple fronts.

At Nelson & Murdock, Karen serves the boys a thank you lasagna using her grandma’s secret recipe (the secret ingredient is virtue!). It’s weird. However, the three of them are adorable. Foggy mentions the ‘nut in the mask’ who saved Karen, Karen staunchly defends him, Matt twiddles his thumbs and changes the subject. VERY subtle. The big takeaway here is that Karen offers to help them set up the firm in lieu of payment for their services. I don’t think they bring it up again but I sure hope she got a whopper of a settlement from Union Allied.

Now, the end of episode montage. Matt goes to Daddy Jack’s gym, Fogwell’s, after hours to work out. He wraps his hands and starts in on a heavy bag. The flyer from his dad’s last fight still hangs on the wall.

The scene cuts between Matt punching and the following: Owlsley cleaning out the pension file; Park Guy’s daughter coming home to find his dead body; Assassin Guy dead, swinging from a sheet in his cell; Madame Gao’s heroin operation; Nobu looking over some blueprints; and Turk Barrett back on the streets and checking out some guns. 

A quick note about Nobu. What we’re seeing here

is Elena Cardenas’ tenement building, the future site of Midland Circle and the current home to some sweet, immortality-giving dragon bones. Look at that smile!

The last cut takes us to the street, where a man is being dragged out of his car by the Russians and beaten up, and his cute little curly haired moppet abducted. 

On a building somewhere in Hell’s Kitchen, Matt is listening to the city.

He filters through the noise and zeroes in on the kid’s screams for help. Then he pulls down his mask, ready to get to work. 

And that’s it! The first episode! Action is hard to screen cap and recap! Nonetheless a great episode and excellent intro to the show. I’ll be back, hopefully in a reasonable amount of time, with episode 2.

[lovejustforaday]

2022 Year End List - #3

Blue Rev - Alvvays

Main Genres: Shoegaze, Indie Pop

A decent sampling of: Noise Pop, Twee Pop, Dream Pop, Jangle Pop, Indietronica, Surf Rock, Neo-Psych

One of my most anticipated records of the year was the long-awaited return of Alvvays, the Canadian indie darlings fronted by Molly Rankin who hails from my own home province of Nova Scotia.

Debuting with their 2014 self-titled Alvvays, the band started off as staunch revivalists of that uber-hip late 1980s U.K. C86 jangly twee sound, with a nice splash of surf rock added in. All in all, a cute record with one very clear winner “Archie, Marry Me” which greatly overshadowed every other song on the record by comparison (Okay, “Next of Kin” was pretty great too).

2017′s Antisocialites expanded on the debut by venturing into more dreamy territory, and upping the songwriting significantly. The record definitely also left a lasting impression on the North American indie scene, as the band’s new record was definitely one of the most talked about upcoming releases in all of the music nerd spaces that I frequented this year.

In those five years of waiting, Alvvays have matured as artists. They also apparently went through development hell based on what I read about in the interviews leading up to this. But what to make of the end result?

Well, after teasing at it for years on their previous LPs, Alvvays has finally delivered with Blue Rev a full-on shoegaze record, a hazy montage of indie pop instant classics with hooks approaching Asobi Seksu levels of melodic gazing, and a cool, aqueous sound that brings it all together. With 14 tracks and a run-time of only 38 minutes, this record is a rapid-fire of a ‘best of indie 2022’ compilation  — except it’s just one band.

I’m struck throughout by the feeling of playing cozy 2D indie games in your bedroom, looking out of your window only to see that you are actually in a submarine as you watch a beautiful 16-bit mermaid swim by. (Note - I just want it on record that I drafted this particular observation before the concernedape music video was released, and holy crap it’s like they read my mind with the cozy 2D indie game aesthetics)

There's also something beautifully East Coast, or at the very least, coastal about Alvvays' sound. The band has always (hehe) reminded me of my local bustling waterfront during the summer season, and this album is certainly no exception. Indeed, this is a record that could just as easily soundtrack the crashing of waves, making big splashes off of lakeside wharfs, cotton candy and Ferris wheels, or even just holding hands by the campfire as much as it would suit your cozy bedroom.

“After The Earthquake” is jangle pop on steroids, with a disruptive adrenaline force and scattering guitar riffs that create an odd mix of upbeat urgency. Like many Alvvays songs, it is about the death of a relationship, only this time in a more literal sense with regards to the lyrics.

“Many Mirrors” is gorgeously drenched feel-good shoegaze, akin to psychedelic deep-sea diving in slow-motion, and designed to soundtrack a mental reel of all the best memories you made over the last year. Everything about this song radiates that feeling of home that a really great close friend brings you. My personal favourite cut off the record.

This bleeds right into “Very Online Guy”, a quirky, hauntological electro-gaze ballad, with a story about the life of a modern internet savant in our hyper-digital age contrasted by retro synths begging to be compared to the Commodore 64. It’s more than a little bit tongue-in-cheek, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t one of the most aesthetically cool and clever songs of the year. The bridge is also godlike; there’s just so much sound going on in so many layers and it gives me euphoric chills.

Following that is “Velveteen”, a piece of delectably bittersweet indie pop displaying Molly Rankin’s unique talents for, as she once put it herself, “the pathetic perspective”, wherein this time she sings some of the loveliest lyrics about a woman who knows her lover has fallen in love with someone else by the signs of him putting more effort into himself. Tragicomedy at its finest.

Together, the aforementioned three songs earn my personal award for best consecutive three-track-run of the year. Gem after gem.

“Pomeranian Spinster” is a punky cuddlecore throwback circa. Heavenly with a delightful deceleration of spinsterhood. It is the most manic the band has ever sounded and I, like many others have already said, would love to hear what a full Alvvays record of this style would be like.

Compositionally speaking, “Belinda Says” is very much a companion piece to Antisocialite’s “In Undertow”. Both songs start of with a fuzzy, humble little synth jingle before erupting into a shower off pedal-heavy guitars and Rankin’s most sweetly and lackadaisically cynical vocals. Last time the lyrics were confronting a relationship that was on its last leg, but this time it is about the much more daunting task of confronting an unplanned pregnancy and choosing your life’s path.

I confess that “In Undertow” still remains my all-time favourite Alvvays cut (a tough act to live up to), but I do appreciate the continuity and sense of evolution from that song’s concerns to this one, and it is certainly up there as another one of the band’s greatest tracks.

Now, there are one or two moments where I experience some record fatigue from the rapid fire pop approach, where not everything ends up sticking. But that is very much the exception to the rule here.

It is evident that Alvvays continues to be on a very clean upward trajectory from their first full length record. They have gone from a solid 2010s jangle pop band, to bar-setting 2020s indie pop veterans.

And Blue Rev does everything the band already did best even better, with more sugary riffs and playfully self-aware, occasionally despondent lyrics for all of you fellow hipsters out there who love some poetic irony. These folks are keeping the flame of amazing 21st century Canadian indie rock alive, and to that I say hell yeah!

9/10

Highlights: “Many Mirrors”, “Very Online Guy”, “Belinda Says”, “After The Earthquake”, “Velveteen”, “Pomeranian Spinster”, “Fourth Figure”, "Pharmacist"

[raayllum]

So once I got done crying over Rayla’s letter from Through The Moon finally being released, combing over for cuteness and sad tragic parallels and all, I lingered on one of the last paragraphs, which reads: 

You’re starting to stir, and the moon is almost gone. I have to go, but the sky is the strangest colour—purple and gray and gold all mixed together, like there’s a storm wrapped around the sunrise. I’m not describing it right.  It sounds awful, but it’s beautiful. I hope it’s still that colour when you wake up. I hope you see it before you see this letter.

This paragraph struck me as vaguely odd, although certainly not out of character. Rayla is delaying what she feels to be the inevitable, lingering as much as she can (at this point it’s clear she hasn’t slept at all and wants to go before dawn), perhaps more of an artistic eye and appreciation thanks to Callum’s influence. (“It sounds incredible” “Yeah, yeah, it is” boat scene callback anyone?)

But I lingered on the line specifically because it mentioned the Storm, which is such a loaded symbol in TDP with echoes of thunder, Callum and sky magic, even the chaotic calm Callum and Rayla provide each other over the course of the series; Rayla waiting for him once he comes out of the storm, her leaving during one, the lightning strike in 2x04, the rain in 2x07 with dark magic and the fallen dragon.

Then I thought about everything a bit more, and well:

the sky is the strangest colour—purple and gray and gold all mixed together

and well, there are exactly two characters with those specific colour schemes. 

You could also loop in Claudia, although she doesn’t quite have the same grey/silvery white in her design that the other two have. However, I am leaning towards Aaravos partially because he is the unknown storm Rayla is running right at (she wants to kill Viren, but has no idea what storm is actually waiting to be unleashed in Aaravos being freed from his mirror). 

So, with that line of foreshadowing in mind, the passage is saying that Callum will see Aaravos before he sees Rayla again, which seems the surefire way S4 is heading, at this rate.

I am also going to offer up Aaravos specifically because of what Rayla says here, regarding: 

I remember how I felt when my parents left me to join the Dragonguard, like PART OF MY HEART WAS MISSING and I would never feel right again [...] But, if it does—if you feel that soft aching—know that that piece of your heart isn’t missing. It’s not missing at all, Callum: I’m carrying it with me! Always.

Of course, there’s the obvious Ruthari parallel ( “My heart goes out with this one”) but Aaravos is also, very plainly, missing a piece of his star right where his chest (metaphorical heart) would be. 

The kids have also thought powerful displays of dark magic (specifically, Claudia’s tracking spell) were aesthetically beautiful, even if it spelled potential doom for their future: “Dark forces are pursuing you” “Do you understand? We’ll lose everything.” (A tracking spell that was only possible because they had something of Rayla’s to use, I might add.)

Basically a very long winded way of saying I think a kinda otherwise random paragraph in Rayla’s letter is actually stealthy foreshadowing for how Callum and Rayla’s fates individually and together are going to continue to be tethered to Aaravos’ plotline and goals in S4.

[impalementation]

spike, angel, buffy & romanticism: part 3

part 1: “When you kiss me I want to die”: Angel and the high school seasons

part 2: “Love isn’t brains, children”: Enter Spike as the id

* 

“Something effulgent”: Season five and the construction of Spike the romantic

Prior to becoming a romantic interest, Spike is everything I discussed in the last section. He is an id and a mirror for Buffy, he’s prone to both romantic exaggeration and cutting realism, and his liminality suggests ambiguity. But outside of “Lovers Walk”, the writing doesn’t actually delve too deeply into Spike’s nature as a romantic. If you stopped the canon at “Restless”, you’d probably think that Spike’s love for Drusilla was intriguing, but that the show hadn’t really gone anywhere with the implications of it, and for all you knew, that might not be an important part of his character anymore. So one of the most interesting things about season five to me, is that in this season in which the writers first consciously, deliberately decide to explore the sexual and romantic tension between Spike and Buffy, they also emphasize Spike’s romanticism more than ever. The choice to define Spike by his romanticism is a choice that follows naturally from everything established about his character, but it was also not an inevitable choice. Therefore, it’s a choice worth looking at in some detail.

Consider everything that “Fool For Love” establishes about Spike, especially the things that contradict what was supposedly canon at the time. It makes Drusilla his sire instead of Angel, meaning that he is sired by a romantic connection, and as a direct result of heartbreak. It makes him a poet living in the middle of the Victorian era, an age at odds with his previous ages of “barely 200” and “126”. Meaning that the writing specifically decides to ignore its canon in order to associate him with an era in which passions would have been repressed (rather than the Romantic era of the early 1800’s or the modern energy of the early 1900’s). Moreover, the episode reveals his entire aesthetic and personality to essentially be a construct. But most tellingly of all, it reveals him to be an idealist. Spike is not just a performance artist; he yearns for the “effulgent”, for something “glowing and glistening” that the “vulgarians” of the world don’t understand. In other words, he yearns for something bigger and more beautiful than life: something romantic. Later, he chases after “death, glory, and sod all else.” Spike may be a “fool for love”, who has a romantic view of romantic love specifically, but the episode is very clear about the fact that he is also a romantic more generally. When Drusilla turns him, she doesn’t tempt him by telling him she’ll love him forever. She tempts him by offering him “something…effulgent”. (Which, in typical Spike form, the episode immediately undercuts by having him say “ow” instead of swooning romantically). The fact that “Fool For Love”, Spike’s major backstory episode, is so determined to paint him as a romantic--and in particular, a disappointed, frustrated romantic--that it is willing to contradict canon to do so, tells you that this choice was important for framing Spike and his new, ongoing thematic role.

I’ve talked in the past about how season five is all about the tension between the mythical and the mortal--between big, grand, sweeping narratives, and the reality of being human. Buffy is the Slayer, but she’s also just a girl who loses her mother. Dawn is the key, but she’s also just a confused and hormonal fourteen-year-old. Willow is a powerful witch, but she also just wants her girlfriend to be okay. Glory is a god, but she’s also a human man named Ben, and finds herself increasingly weakened by his emotions. And Spike embodies this tension perfectly. He’s a soulless vampire with a lifetime of bloodshed behind him, but he’s also this silly, human man who wants to love and be loved. He wants big, grand things, but every time they are frustrated by a Victorian society, a rejection, a chip, a pratfall, or dying with an “ow”. Furthermore, his season five storyline is all about the tension between loving in an exalted, yet often selfish way, versus loving in a “real” or selfless way. 

There was a fascinating piece a ways back that discussed how Spike’s attempts to woo Buffy in season five almost perfectly match the romantic narratives of Courtly Love. In the words of the author:

The term "Courtly Love" is used to describe a certain kind of relationship common in romantic medieval literature. The Knight/Lover finds himself desperately and piteously enamored of a divinely beautiful but unobtainable woman. After a period of distressed introspection, he offers himself as her faithful servant and goes forth to perform brave deeds in her honor. His desire to impress her and to be found worthy of her gradually transforms and ennobles him; his sufferings -- inner turmoil, doubts as to the lady's care of him, as well as physical travails -- ultimately lends him wisdom, patience, and virtue and his acts themselves worldly renown.

You can see for yourself how well that description fits Spike’s arc. He fixates on the torturous, abject nature of his love, and has it in his head that he can perform deeds and demonstrate virtue, and this will prove to Buffy that he is worthy of her. But despite Spike’s gradual ennobling over the course of the season, I think it would be a mistake to see the season as using the Courtly Love narrative uncritically, or even just ironically. The same way it would be a mistake to see season two as using the Gothic uncritically. Spike is as much Don Quixote as he is Lancelot. He is a character that deliberately tries to act out romantic tropes, giving the writing an opportunity to satirize those tropes, including the tropes of chivalric romance. In particular, the writing criticizes Spike’s (very chivalric) fixation on love as a personal agony, something that is more about pain--and specifically, his pain--than building a real relationship. Over and over in season five, he is forced to abandon these sorts of flattering romantic mindsets in favor of a more complicated reality. 

So at first, Spike’s “deeds” tend to be shallow and vaguely transactional. He tries to help Buffy in “Checkpoint” even though she doesn’t want it (and insults her when she doesn’t appreciate it), he asks “what the hell does it take?” when Buffy is unimpressed by him not feeding on “bleeding disaster victims” in “Triangle”, he rants bitterly at a mannequin when Buffy fails to be grateful to him for taking her to Riley in “Into the Woods”, and he is angry and confused when Buffy is unmoved by his offer to stake Drusilla in “Crush”. While these attempts to symbolically reject his evilness are startling for a soulless vampire, and although Spike certainly feels like he is fundamentally altering himself for Buffy’s sake, none of it is based on understanding or supporting Buffy in a way that she would actually find substantial. Moreover, he lashes out when his gestures fail to win her attention or affection. He has an idea in his head of how their romantic scenes should play out, and reacts petulantly when reality fails to live up to it. 

But these incidents of self-interested narrativizing are also continuously contrasted with scenes in which Spike reacts with real generosity, or is surprised when he realizes he’s touched something emotionally genuine. When Buffy seeks him out in “Checkpoint”, his mannerisms instantly change when he realizes she actually needs real help (“You’re the only one strong enough to protect them”), rather than the performed help he offered at the beginning of the episode. At the end of “Fool For Love” he’s struck dumb by Buffy’s grief, and his antagonistic posturing all evening melts away. He abandons his romantic vision of their erotic, life-and-death rivalry in favor of real, awkward emotional intimacy. In “Forever” he tries to anonymously leave flowers for Joyce, and reacts angrily when he’s denied—but this time not because he wanted something from Buffy. Simply because he wanted to do something meaningful. 

This contradictory behavior comes to a head in “Intervention”, the episode in which Spike finally begins to understand the difference between real and transactional generosity. Up until that point, Spike has been reacting both selfishly and unselfishly, but he hasn’t been able to truly distinguish between them, which is why he keeps repeating the same mistakes. Although he touches something real at the end of “Fool For Love”, for instance, he goes on to rifle through Buffy’s intimates in the very next episode. And so “Intervention” has Spike go to extremes of fakeness and reality. He gives up on having the real Buffy, and seeks out an artificial substitute that lets him live out his cheesiest romance novel scripts. It’s important that the Buffybot isn’t just a sexbot, even if he does have sex with her. She’s a bot he plays out romantic scenarios with the way he played them with Harmony in “Crush”, allowing him to almost literally live within a fiction. But then he “gives up” on having Buffy in a way that’s actually real, by offering up his life. He lets himself be tortured, and potentially killed, for no other reason than that to do otherwise would cause Buffy pain. The focus is on her pain, not his. For the first time, he acts like the Knight he’s been trying to be all along. He performs a grand, heroic deed that causes the object of his affection to see him in a different light, and even grant him a kiss. Yet ironically, as part of learning the difference between real and fake, he ceases to press for Buffy’s reciprocation. Through the end of season five, Spike continues to act the selfless Knight, assisting Buffy in her heroism without asking for anything in return. Which culminates in his declaration that he knows Buffy “will never love him”, even after he’s promised her the deed of protecting Dawn, and even though she allows a kind of intimacy by letting him back in her house. He proves that he sees those gestures for what they are, rather than in a transactional light. The irony of the way Spike fulfills the narrative of chivalric romance, is that his ennobling involves letting aspects of that narrative go. 

In a Courtly Love narrative, the object of the Knight’s affection is fundamentally pedestalized. The Knight himself might be flawed, but the woman he pines after is not. She is “divinely beautiful” and “unobtainable”, something above him and almost more than human. This is why it’s so comic that in Don Quixote, which was a direct satire of chivalric romance, Alonso Quixano’s “lady love” is a vulgar peasant farmgirl who has no idea who he is. (Think of the way Spike asks if Buffy is tough in “School Hard” or threatens to “take her apart” despite “how brilliant she is” in “The Initiative”, followed by scenes where Buffy is acting like the teenage girl she is. Or how Giles in “Checkpoint” says that Buffy has “acquired a remarkable focus” before cutting to Buffy yawning.). Although it’s true that Buffy is beautiful, and supernatural, and profoundly moral, she is also very human, and the writing is very concerned with that humanity. Season five in particular, as I’ve mentioned, is preoccupied with the duality of Buffy’s mythic and mortal nature. Thus it becomes significant that Buffy is assigned such a heightened role in Spike’s chivalric narrative. Just Spike is at once Lancelot and Don Quixote, Buffy is at once Achilles, Dulcinea, and a coming-of-age protagonist. 

And part of the “lesson” of Spike’s arc is for him to see both sides of the roles they embody. One of my favorite things about the scene in Buffy’s house in “The Gift” is how adroitly it conveys the dualities of both Buffy and Spike with simple, but poetic imagery and language. Buffy stands above Spike on her steps, conveying her elevated role, and Spike honors the way her heroic status has inspired him by physically looking up to her as he explains that he expects nothing from her. But by expecting nothing from her, and promising to protect her sister, he also honors the fact that she is a real person with no obligation to him, and a younger sister she cares about more than anything. He also honors his own duality by at once making Knightly promises, and acknowledging that he sees through his former delusions: “I know that I’m a monster, but you treat me like a man.” In “Fool For Love” he tried to acknowledge the same duality of realism and romance, by declaring to Cecily that “I know I’m a bad poet, but I’m a good man.” But at the time, he was an innocent, whose desire to be seen, and whose romantic avoidance of “dark, ugly things”, left him unprepared to understand how Cecily really saw him (similar to Spike’s insistence in “Crush” that what he and Buffy have “isn’t pretty, but it’s real” just before Buffy locks him out). Spike is a character defined simultaneously by continuous disillusionment and dogged aspiration, which is why he makes perfect sense as a character to embody a season torn between the pain of being human, and the wonder of the gift of love.

Fittingly, the season ends with Spike’s most devastating loss of innocence of all. He fails to be the hero for Buffy or Dawn (note that Knightly language he uses on the tower: “I made a promise to a lady”), and he loses the woman he loves. He may have become more virtuous, but unlike in a chivalric romance, that virtue wins him neither Buffy, nor something flattering like “world reknown.” The climax of the “The Gift” is full of romance—a god, a troll hammer, a damsel on a tower, a heroic self-sacrifice, a vampire transformed into a Knight—but the end result is that Buffy is dead, in part because he wasn’t good enough, and all that he and the Scoobies can do is grieve. Stories got Spike nothing, even when reality finally lived up to them. It is a swan song to the myths of childhood, and on the other side of Glory’s portal, Spike and the other characters will have to confront a world where those myths have been left behind.

part 4: “But I can’t fool myself. Or Spike, for some reason.”: Buffy and Spike as a blended self

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 4

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Eventual Smut

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers

A/N: The song featured in the kitchen scene is Fantasy by Mariah Carey.

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

You were puzzling. Alone in your bedroom, laying within the comfort of your own bed, you were positively puzzling.

After sorting out just who Ben was and fixing the damage Baekhyun had done to your reputation by explaining that your idiot roommate had just gotten a hold of your phone, you reintroduced yourself and apologized for the confusion.

This ‘Ben’ actually seemed to laugh off the odd behavior he’d gotten as a first impression of you, mentioning that your roommate seemed funny, if not weirdly protective of you.

You could see what he meant when you read through the rapid fire questions Baekhyun had asked him from his age, to his preferred operating system, whether or not Ben had Facebook so “you” and him could be friends, his profession, and his parents line of work, his current place of work, how long he’s worked there and whether or not he moves around a lot, his hometown, his hobbies and even whether or not Ben has now or has ever had any pets; it seemed that Baekhyun had actually done a whole lot of legwork to give you a pretty good idea of what Ben might be like.

But the moment Baekhyun’s conversation topic changed to innocently ask Ben for his astrological sign, something struck you as off to see Baekhyun proclaim you to also be the same sign and after the two compared birthdays you began to find the whole exchange quite odd.

You realized that Baekhyun had simply lied about your birthday. Baekhyun knew your birthday. Why had he given a fake date to Ben? Unless there was something else happening that you didn’t understand. Then again, Baekhyun had always been rather stingy about giving out personal information; both yours and his. He was probably just being cautious about revealing too much to a stranger.

And actually, Ben seemed rather …. nice. You always hesitated to give them this adjective right off the bat as most of the guys you met who seemed nice right away turned out to be very good at faking nice and stringing along at least three or four girls at once for the shot at fucking at least one of them, and the hopes of fucking all of them.

You’d been called the wrong name late at night, whispered through a sleepy voice over the phone. You’d been sweet-talked and then abruptly called a bitch for refusing to send nudes to a guy you’d been talking to for only a week. Apparently a week was his limit and all his other girls gave him what he wanted within a couple of days. You’d been ghosted by nice guys who felt victimized and led on when you said goodnight politely with a smile and a wave instead of inviting them inside for ramen.

You did want a nice guy. But you wanted a real one.

What you wouldn’t give for one of them, for just one of them to be honest with you and really show you their true self.

Perhaps you had been going about it all wrong.

Your conversation with Ben quietly fizzled and you put your phone away to charge and now, now you were simply puzzling.

It panged at your heart to think of it, but the upset with Baekhyun hours earlier kept replaying in your mind. You propped your feet up on your wall and let your head hang off the edge of your bed, enjoying the way the gravity pulled at the blood in your brain and you tapped your fingers on the bed absentmindedly to the soft beat of music you heard playing from his room.

And you puzzled.

Don’t use your beauty as a weapon against me.

You hadn’t been this bothered by something since you’d watched that Mission Impossible movie the first time and spent an hour and a half trying to wrap your head around the complicated plot.

A Weapon.

Your beauty … a weapon … against me.

Why did it bother you so much? Why had he been so upset that you were playing with him, that you were messing with him. He messed with you all the time. You messed with him just as much. He never got this upset. No, he never got upset in this way. In such a way as to call you out on using something you had, against him. Something that you hadn’t even known had any power at all to attack the man. Your beauty. Did you have such a thing?

You thought about the other times you fought with him.

Not really fought, the two of you never did that, but that fake sort of fighting like when he’d woken you up at 2am for the third night in a row with his loud working music and you found him out in the kitchen disassembling your favorite toaster, the one with the wide slots for bagels that also toasts four slices of bread at once and even has special buttons for frozen items. The stainless steel one that you won in a work raffle and proudly marched through the office carrying with a huge smile on your face. It was a deluxe model. Supreme even. The master of it’s craft. Said so right on the box. Your toaster in a million pieces on your kitchen counter; all because he needed some components or resistors or whatever the fuck it was and he decided the best move was to take your toaster apart rather than to just order what he needed online and wait two business days for them to arrive.

Sure, he put it back together a few days later but not without enduring the laser eyes you shot him over breakfast when you had to toast a piece of bread in a frying pan on the stove like a loser who did not own a four slice Deluxe Toastmaster Supreme.

You’d planned your revenge then. It was something tiny and it involved his TV remote. His precious TV was enormous, took up almost the whole wall, OLED or SUPER-NANO or ULTRA-NANO some similar nonsense words and had 8-Ks of pixels or so he claimed and had so many smart functions you could hardly get comfortable using it for anything that didn’t involve the Netflix button. And no, no, you didn’t do anything to the actual TV. Relax, this was just the remote. This was harmless. Absolutely harmless. Easy to solve really if he had half a brain in his head.

You just carefully cut out the smallest tiniest piece of IR blocking tape that fit exactly over the infrared sensor on the remote control and fit so well it was undetectable to the human eye. Unless you knew it was there and knew exactly where to stick your fingernail in under the plastic bezel to peel it back. You simply applied the tape and left the remote right on the coffee table before you left for work.

You’d come home that night to a pile of assorted battery packs all strewn about the coffee table, and the remote completely taken apart down to the tiny circuit board and Baekhyun was quietly touching the tip of some tiny tool to the different spots on the scary looking green part from inside of the remote with all the metal bits stuck to it and when you slowly walked by he looked up at you through the magnifying eye glasses he wore. His eyes looked comically enormous and you swallowed away your laughter and considered how long you’d let him suffer.

“Something wrong with your remote, Peanut Butter?”

“It was working fine yesterday. I just don’t understand it.”

“Maybe it’s the batteries,” you offered innocently and he just ignored your helpful suggestion as he began screwing tiny screws into place with a precision screwdriver.

He was reassembling it all now and you sat down beside him on the sofa about as amused as you had ever been to sit and watch him suffer.

He grabbed two new batteries from an unopened pack on the table and aimed the remote, pressing the buttons again and again. Nothing happened.

He was surprisingly calm about the whole thing and judging by the various shopping bags and different brands of batteries you saw, he seemed to have been working on this all afternoon. Probably for hours now.

“I’m going to have to take the TV apart.”

He was already standing up and walking across the room toward the wall mounted monstrosity when you leaned forward for the remote. He glanced back at you as you did it and he looked at you just in time to see you shake the remote back and forth and then hit it twice lightly against your left hand. Just a little knock-knock should do it. You were careful to keep the expression on your face calm and well controlled.

When you pressed the power button, the big TV came to life and you pressed the button for Netflix and scrolled through your recommended titles. You had a new episode to watch. You’d have to make time tonight for that. After he was done with his little project here.

Baekhyun instantly pulled his hands away from the TV and hopped back and away from the screen, peering up at it with his mouth hanging wide open. His eyes shot back to where you sat on the sofa holding the remote control. You did not allow your smile to form. Nothing in your whole life had ever been so difficult. You felt as if you could pop right here. You casually flipped through the menu on the screen and the man looked back up at the TV and back down at you again.

You could see him coming in then. He was moving fast with several large steps toward you and with the quickest movement you could manage you used the tip of your finger to slide the IR tape back over the remote sensor. You could not be as precise as you had been before with him coming right at you so quickly, but hopefully it wouldn’t be visible.

He reached for the remote. “What did you do, how did you fix it?” He held it up and pointed it toward the TV. Again, the remote did not work. You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek.

He was pressing buttons again and nothing happened with each new button he smashed down. You could see the madness growing in his eyes the more he tried.

He made the smallest whining sound from the back of his throat and it took every ounce of self control to keep from laughing as he lightly tapped the remote twice against his hand just as he had seen you do. Nothing.

You tried to hold it. You tried so hard. A tiny sound escaped, the smallest sniffle with a laugh broke free from your throat and you coughed lightly to hide it.

His face turned on you and those crazed eyes were back only instead of directing them at the remote, he was looking at you now.

“How did you fix it? Do it again.” He looked insane and desperate and a tiny smile betrayed you as you grabbed the remote from his hand. You played the smile off as part of the help you were willing to offer him but you also had to inhale a deep breath and carefully and slowly exhale it through your mouth to keep from breaking completely.

You held it up in your right hand and gave it a little shake. As quickly as you had done it before you turned the remote on its side as you gave those two little knocks and his head flipped toward the TV when you aimed. With his eyes averted you were able to slip the tape off just before pressing the button.

The Netflix logo greeted you and Baekhyun threw his head back and let out a loud frustrated yell into the ceiling above him.

You’d been holding your laugh for too long. It was becoming too difficult now and he was back, reaching for the remote when the first suffocating giggles took your composure and you laughed out loud.

Your laughter brought all of his attention right to you and only you. The entirety of his focus shifted and that brought those crazed eyes of his bearing down on you, wide and demanding.

It was, by far, the most successful and meanest prank you had ever played on him to date and you were gasping for air and laughing as he reached for you. He grasped both of your shoulders and he shook you as you laughed and laughed at the absolute madness in his eyes. Oh he was crazy. It was just so damn funny.

The remote was still in your hands and you flipped through the different inputs on the TV as you cackled and tears formed at the corners of your eyes.

“How did you do it? You devil! Tell me how you did it?”

He balanced with his knees on the couch and his hands were on you, roaming over the fabric of the sweater you wore, lifting your arms to look under them, maybe for spare remotes or for hidden batteries or secret formulas, who knows what he thought he might find.

You’d stashed the tiny circle of tape by sticking it to the skin inside your elbow and he was currently examining the fingers on all of your hands up close as if they concealed all of the secrets he was looking for.

It wasn’t until he searched higher, pulling your hand forward toward his chest and his thumb grazed against the shiny plastic of the tape circle you had on your inner arm when he did a double take, pulled your arm harder and lifted an accusing finger to point at the tape.

“What is that?!” He clearly thought himself to be the world’s greatest detective.  

You allowed yourself to be manhandled by him a little bit more as you got every bit of humor about your recent victory out of your chest and you lifted your other hand, the one he did not have held hostage right now to wipe at the tears that had fallen from your eyes.  

“Stop laughing and answer me, woman! What is it?”

“It’s my birth control patch,” you said through a laugh and his eyes widened as he pulled his hand back. It was a tiny movement but you were so close to his accusing eyes that it felt monumental and the dramatic reaction to your teasing lie made a fresh wave of laughter bubble up in your chest. You knew he would react this way. Any mention of your contraceptives always made him clam up.

“It’s IR tape, Baekhyun. Infrared blocking tape. I put it on the sensor this morning after breakfast. After I made toast in a pan instead of in my toaster.”

The truth pulled his whole head back and he fell down on his butt on the sofa briefly before he slipped and fell right off the couch onto the floor and he sat there with a blank lifeless look on his face; staring ahead without any focus in his eyes.

“Do you know how sad pan toast is, Baekhyun? Tell me, how am I supposed to be satisfied with pan toast when I should have been having Deluxe Toastmaster Supreme toast?”

He was shaking his head back and forth as you spoke and when he did move it was to lay down flat on his back on the floor of the living room. His hands were up and he rubbed roughly over his face.

“Oh my god. Oh my god—it’s so good. I would have never checked for tape over the sensor. Fucking tape. A piece of goddamn tape. I was so focused on the batteries.I went to three different stores today. The circuits to the sensor were all intact, I checked it, it was good — I never even considered this. Are you an evil genius? My sweet innocent Bug ... is actually an evil supervillain.”

You left him on the floor and made your way into the kitchen to make dinner. It was your night to cook and thanks to the man stewing on the floor of the living room you had to do it around the scattered carcass of your third favorite kitchen appliance.

You remembered the way he reacted then. He pouted and moaned on the floor for a few moments until he smelled the stew you were cooking on the stove. It was comfort food. Something with meat and potatoes and warmth and spices. It would lift anyone’s mood and his had been lifted almost immediately. There were no apologies or any tears. Just a promise to put the toaster back together tomorrow after he went to the store for the parts he needed and that was the end of it.

He didn't storm away. He didn't raise his voice or say you were mean or unfair or too beautiful for him to withstand. He didn't get angry about closeness being used the wrong way, in a way that was unfair to him. In a way that could hurt him, like a weapon.

If he said you had the kind of beauty that could be used against him, didn't that mean he found you beautiful? Wouldn't that mean that Baekhyun found you attractive?

The words protested inside your mind. You shook your head.

That was impossible. Definitely. You’ve been so close to him for so long without even a hint of that sort of a feeling from him. Sure you were close to each other. Sure you cared for each other. It was a familiar sort of affection you shared. But attraction? Because he found you beautiful in a way that was unfair?

The puzzling was giving you a headache. There were some things that just did not exist in the same space in your mind and that was the existence of your roommate, Byun Baekhyun, and the possibility that he was attracted to you in any way.

You’d been inside your bedroom for hours now and you were no closer to answers than when you first came in here.

Baekhyun would be done with his episode. He would have watched it with Mia and discussed themes or scenes or dramatic moments with her. Did he talk to her on the phone or maybe though a headset as they streamed the episode together.

Did he like her voice and did she like his jokes?

Did he make her laugh? Of course he did. He made everyone laugh. Baekhyun was charming and hilarious. But could she make him laugh? Could she make him giggle and shake like he laughed with you?

It was late. That didn't really mean all that much to Baekhyun, as the man didn't really have any set bedtime and usually just fell asleep when the sun began to come up. It was a weekend night and you didn't have work in the morning and frankly your curiosity had grown too much for you to just stay in here and fall asleep without at least checking on how the streaming date went.

You knocked lightly on his door. You could hear music playing inside. Nothing too loud or crazy. The man seemed to be having a somewhat low key evening.

“Yeah,” his voice called lowly and you opened the door and peeked your head inside.

“How is our girlfriend doing?” Baekhyun was sitting on his butt on the floor in front of his bed with his head laid over his arms and his phone abandoned in the middle of the floor out of arm’s reach.

He let out a long low groan but did not lift his head up when you stepped inside.

“I don't even know. I don't know.” He sounded defeated already and this had only just started.

“Peanut, what happened?” You picked up the phone and unlocked the screen, searching through his apps to find the dating app so you could see if they had said anything to each other that might give you some clues about what went wrong.

“Nothing happened. I was too quiet. I couldn’t talk at all. I didn't say anything during the entire episode. Why is this so scary. Uggghhh...I feel unsafe. It’s gross.”

You stepped over him and climbed onto his bed, sitting up against the head of the bed as you scrolled through the chat logs.

It looked normal. Not unfriendly. A little terse and abrupt on his part. The man didn't know how to loosen up when he talked to girls and you wondered if maybe you needed more one on one lessons with him before he was really ready for this stuff.

When you leaned back against the headboard you felt the bed dip and he climbed onto the bed beside you and angled his body toward where you sat up against the pillows.

When you got to the end of the chat you could see that she was the last one to speak and she remarked that he felt a bit different from when they spoke at the beginning of the day. He didn't say anything in response to that.

Baekhyun moaned with his eyes closed and he turned his head into your waist. He was obviously reliving some perceived embarrassment he must have felt during the interaction with Mia and when he moved his arm around your waist you looked down to find yourself trapped under his arm that constricted as he pulled tightly, hiding the entirety of his face somewhere in the shirt you wore. He was warm. The weight of his arm around you felt nice.

“I felt so unsafe,” he repeated his complaint from earlier and his voice was obscured and muffled as he hid himself. He switched the tense though and you wondered if he no longer felt unsafe now that you had come in.

You typed out a quick response to Mia. You didn't think it was right to just leave her hanging without an explanation for his strange silence during and after the show.

“I’m going to tell her that you were so quiet because you were nervous. I’ll also thank her for watching the episode tonight.”

You heard and felt a hum and the tightness of his arm around your waist relaxed a little as his arm went slack. He did not move though. He still hugged you. He was still warm and it took only a moment for your nose to pick up the pleasant smell of his clean bed sheets fresh from the dryer. You both had a schedule for washing things like towels and bed sheets. Yours had been cleaned today as well, but something about the smell of his bed felt better than yours had. Perhaps it had been all that difficult puzzling that had tainted yours.

Mia responded right away to your message. She was flattered by his nervousness. You could tell with the way she reassured that he really didn't have to be nervous around her. That she was an easy going kinda girl. Low maintenance she said. You scoffed at the thought of a computer geek being low maintenance. As if you didn't know how difficult to obtain fancy GPUs were and how expensive high powered CPUs, high capacity SATA drives, and their required cooling systems were. You looked around Baekhyun’s set up and figured it had to run somewhere in the multiples of tens of thousands of dollars; just in this room alone.

Low maintenance. Please, she was just as high maintenance as any other regular girl just with a different catalogue of parts.

You switched to the emoji keyboard and keyed off some random happy faces and closed her chat window with more force than was necessary; suddenly and unexpectedly irked when she responded with similar emojis and the notification popped up on the screen. You swiped it away quickly to be rid of it.

“She sounded nice though, even if I couldn’t talk. She sounded nice. Do you think she will even want to talk to me again? I think she likes you more than me.”

“She will like you. If she doesn’t she’s an idiot. A girl would have to be an imbecile, Peanut, to not fall for you.”

He lifted his face then, just enough for the corners of his eye to peek out and you looked down at the side of his face as he looked at you for a moment, absorbing the encouraging words you spoke to him. His leg began to shake somewhere on the end of the bed. You could feel the rhythmic motions. He often did this when he was tired.

You had been scrolling through matches on his phone, building on an idea that popped into your head.

The man needed some practice to build up his confidence. Maybe, just maybe you could find another girl. Someone who he could talk to, chat with, be friendly with, that maybe wasn’t just so wonderfully perfect for him. Someone just to break the ice with.

You stopped on a girl. Her dress was short and the neckline was low. She really left very little up to the imagination with this outfit. Outside of the revealing clothes, it was clear that she was a beautiful woman. She was sexy and very confident in herself despite the glaringly obvious grammatical typo in her bio.

You spun the phone around to show him.

“She looks nice,” you said. Baekhyun blinked at the phone and pulled his face back a little to see the image clearly.

“—-follow you’re dreams — you are — Never too old to follow you are dreams.” Baekhyun read out the sentence with the typo out loud and you laughed.

“Come on, she’s pretty,” you said softly, “right?” You probed gently and he chuckled once to himself and closed his eyes up with a sigh.

“Yeah, she’s pretty,” he said after a while and you felt yourself stiffen just a little bit with his admission. Of course she was. Anyone could see it. He’d be lying if he didn't admit it.

“Okay but like, just pretty or do you also think she’s beautiful?”

He hummed some non response and you focused your attention back on the phone in your hands. After scrolling through a few more profiles you found another woman whose beauty shone brightly right through the screen at you.

“And her? Is she pretty or is she beautiful?”

Baekhyun’s eyes opened again but just barely. He looked half asleep and you wondered if the reason his arm was still around you was because he was so sleepy he didn't realize he was still hugging you like this on his bed.

“Pretty,” he mumbled and pushed his face into your waist again. This time the shaking in his leg began to settle and you could hear a slow steadiness in his breathing.

“Should I message her? Maybe we can practice talking to her so you’re not so nervous talking to girls?”

“Sure Bug,” he said quietly, “you can do anything you want.”

He was falling asleep now. You could feel the change. It didn't matter. You’d let him rest a bit while you opened up a chat window and began talking to Candy.

She responded quickly and had a completely different feeling from Mia. Maybe this was good. Candy was easy to talk to but she had nearly nothing in common with Baekhyun. She casually asked what a computer programmer did and when you went into specifics you had trouble finding synonyms for words that didn’t just make it all more complicated. You finally settled on a simple explanation of what kinds of computer software Baekhyun had developed and left it at that.

After a while Baekhyun shifted in his sleep and uncovered his face. His lips were parted and from the upside down angle you could see the dark splash of his pretty eyelashes that landed over his soft cheeks. He looked lovely and peaceful. All the worries and fears of the day were gone and he was sleeping so calmly. You watched his sleeping face for a while, growing warm inside with the strange contentedness you felt.

You could see some light movement behind his eyes and you wondered if he was dreaming about anything.

Candy had asked for a picture. She was asking something superficial like what sort of car Baekhyun drove and you slipped into his picture gallery for the folder with the shots you took for him when he first bought his car. You found a nice one with him smiling behind the driver’s seat, bright red seatbelt across his chest and the logo of his fancy ride on the steering wheel.

‘Wooo, baby boy an Audi? you must be loaded. When are you gonna come pick me up in that?’

You laughed at her obvious reaction. Candy was exactly as you expected her to be. Baekhyun would be able to laugh and chat with her easily without too much pressure of impressing a complicated woman like Mia was. Candy was an open book. The stakes were lower with Candy.

Your giggle made him stir and you looked down to see his eyes open a tiny bit before he closed them again.

“It’s going well with Candy,” you whispered and he inhaled a breath and nodded his head as he closed his eyes again.

“Mmm, the pretty one?” he asked in a sleepy voice and you hummed your confirmation. Something buzzed inside of you; just a bit of nerve. Call it gumption.

“Baek,” you called quietly and his lips parted with his breathing but his eyes stayed closed this time. He did not respond. He didn't give any indication at all that he heard you call him.

“Baek, what about me?” Your voice was tiny when you asked it. You felt more warmth in this bed suddenly. You felt it in your chest and it seeped up to warm up your face too.

He hadn’t responded at all to your question. It had been pretty unclear though. He might not have heard it, or might not have understood it. Or his sleep may have just been too deep to register your words.

“Am I pretty or am I beautiful?” You said it so quietly there was little chance of him actually hearing it. He was asleep and you were just here, trapped in his embrace on his bed as he slept and you puzzled over the words he had told you during an upset. The words that you had pried from him when he was vulnerable and emotional. The words that you shouldn’t be over analyzing like this. Those words felt too risky to be giving this much thought to.

Here you were again, using your sneaking methods to try and trick him into something when you knew it wouldn't work, when you knew there was nothing really there and you were reading too far into things.

His steady breathing continued. His eyes remained closed and his arm still gripped around your tightly, holding you still, holding you close to him as he slept.

So you gave up. You’d moved back to the phone to respond to Candy; something silly and lighthearted, something easy just like she was, when you heard him speak.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he said so far under his breath the statement sounded more like air than actual vocalization of any kind and your fingers stopped their rapid typing in the middle of your sentence.

Your eyes looked down. Your entire body was frozen. Half of you expected to find his eyes open and a wide teasing smile on his lips, begging for you to take the bait and believe his words just for the chance of laughing at your shocked face and making fun of you for being stupid enough to believe them.

He was asleep. His eyelids did not pull open when you looked down at him and his breathing remained as steady as ever.

Baekhyun was asleep.

That damn puzzling — your jaw was sore from clenching your teeth down and your lips were dry and chapped from biting them.  

You had dropped the phone and it disappeared somewhere amid the bedcovers.

Baekhyun’s sleep was deeper now. He must have been very tired to be falling asleep so recklessly like this. You shifted downward and made some attempt to find the phone without waking him up and your small movement made him inhale a deep breath through his nose and he was moving now. You felt him shifting, moving his sleepy body up higher in search for some comfort; for something to lay on that was a bit more comfortable than flat on the middle of the bed like that.

You used the movement to reach for the blanket and pull it over his body so he could be warm at least and when he finally settled he shared the same pillow as you. His forehead rested against your shoulder and he was once again, fast asleep.

His arm though— you found yourself still very much trapped in nearly the same embrace as before, just shifted. A forearm landed over your chest and you felt a new heaviness of his bent leg land over your thigh.

You could wake him.

You could push him off and let him roll the other way so you could make an escape back to the peace of your own bedroom.

You would. You would do that soon.

Your current state of thoughts was simply too overloaded to follow through on any game plan. If you could only have a few more minutes of his warm steady breathing, you would move away from this. You would do it.

It wasn’t that you had never considered it. It was that you had gone through many lengths to come to this place. You were safe and secure here.

It was that you had nowhere else to go when it was over.

This place was your home.

Peanut was part of that home.

Things were nice right now; the way they were at home.

But…

As they sometimes do, and against your own will, your thoughts wandered.

You wondered as they wandered — wondered about him.

From the deepest parts of your mind; down where you’d shoved them roughly many times before, those wondering thoughts danced and swayed lightly to the soft music playing in this room.

Those secret thoughts about the sweetness in his eyes. Secrets about the fondness you felt for the little tips of him; the tip of his nose, the tips of his fingers, the pink tips of his ears. Thoughts you refused to encourage.

Baekhyun was asleep and you were thinking.

With the thinking came the shame and your skin was hot to the touch. The last thing you wanted was to ruin your home. With the thinking came the denial. You could not encourage anything. You could not afford to become complacent. You did not need these thoughts to become so brazen. You did not need them taking root. The last thing you needed was them making an appearance again.

The sounds he made while dreaming pulled your closed eyelids back open. You turned your face toward the sound. It was soft, the small groan from the back of his throat. But his face changed then; eyebrows screwed together and his lungs constricted as he let out a softer sound, like a whine. It was a complaint. His face showed signs of pain. The dream must have been unpleasant.

You lifted a hand then, shifted within his embrace you raised your palm and laid it carefully over the side of his face.

The shift happened with the warm contact and his features evened out and that pained look was gone.  

You smiled then. So sleepy but satisfied that you could help when he needed it.

You would move after he got a little more sleep. After he’d had a little more comfort from you, you would move.

You weren’t the first to move. And it seemed by the change in light that shone through the windows that your visit had lasted much longer than you had intended.

It was the untangle that woke you up. A conscious and deliberate lifting of limbs; the careful grip of a hand lifting your arm by the wrist and setting it gently down on a flat mattress.

You opened your eyes when he pulled his own leg out from between your thighs. The temperature change was most jarring. You had felt so warm before.

Baekhyun was sitting up in his bed. His hair was standing up in places all over his head and he was moving slowly and carefully, in an attempt to disengage himself from the tangle of this woman he had just woken up with.

The sleep was still very thick in your head. It hadn’t been a full night’s sleep had it? You felt like you had just closed your eyes a minute ago and yet the sunshine was so bright outside already.

“Sorry,” Baekhyun whispered when he realized you were now awake and looking at him, “guess I got too comfortable...must have fallen asleep.”

His voice was thick with sleep and with embarrassment too, you could hear it everywhere, with the quick words he spoke to you and the pink that covered the back of his neck and flooded his cheeks too.

This situation...this was an embarrassment. Of course it was.

This was something that should not have happened. Not with two adults of similar age who shared so many liberties with each other; spending time in each other’s arms at night, well…

You felt awkward all over. What if—what if you’d done something in your sleep? What if you said something?

And he already wasn’t meeting your eyes as he climbed out of the bed and awkwardly made his way into his bathroom.

You could hear the sound of the running water faucet and the door closed with the smallest click like he went out of his way to close it as softly and quietly as possible to avoid disturbing you any further.

You could feel the heat burning on the skin of your cheeks and you used his absence to get up and get out of his bedroom before he came out and found you still, still tangled in his bed sheets like you’d been tangled in his legs and in his arms all night.

You had to ignore this. You had to forget it ever happened, and anyway, you were best friends with the guy...right? Wasn't this thing bound to happen in the course of a friendship? What if you went on a holiday with him and the hotel only had one bed? These things really did happen, you read about it on twitter once. Would you be that asshole best friend who let him sleep on the floor just because he was a man? No! You could build a little pillow wall between your bodies and sleep as still and motionless as possible, like a corpse.

This feeling would go away. The red hot embarrassment would wash down the drain of your shower. The sticky warmth left behind by his skin would go with it.

You’d made it as far as to undress and turn on the hot water when an awful memory dawned on you.

Baekhyun still had your shampoo.

You didn't have any other shampoo in this bathroom that you could use. You pulled open cupboards and drawers, searching for anything; tiny hotel sized travel bottles, a nearly empty bottle under the sink for a rainy day, even maybe something in the trash can that still had a few drops. Nothing.

You eyed the hand soap on your sink and pictured stepping out of the shower a frizzy, tangled mess.

A soft knock vibrated against your bathroom door.

“Bug, your shampoo.” Baekhyun’s voice called out, muffled by the sounds of the running water and the door itself, “it’s almost empty, but there’s a little left. Sorry, I’ll run to the store and get more.”

Your ear was pressed against the door so you could make out everything he said; so you could listen carefully to the tone and delivery of his words to see if he was still embarrassed about last night or if he’d brush it off easily like he did most things that seemed to bother him.

There were another two soft knocks, “B-Bug?”

“Yeah, Peanut, thank you. Can you just...put it by the door. I’m already undressed. I’ll grab it in a bit.”

He did not respond right away and you stayed with your ear against the door waiting for some sound. Some indication that he had left. The click of your door, anything.

“I left it by the door,” you heard his far away voice shout and then the click of your door.

When your shower was done and you were dressed in your favorite weekend outfit, the high waisted comfy shorts with pockets and a cute top that made you feel somewhat pretty even on a casual day and you emerged from your bedroom feeling ready to face whatever weird moods or wacky situations accosted you today.

You found him singing a song to himself in the kitchen as he made something that smelled delicious for breakfast. The radio was on a pop station that played hits from all the past decades and the upbeat rhythm of the song that played was a definite favorite that had him dancing at the stove.

It was a groovy little love song, quite old now that you thought about it and you felt the beat hit hard in your chest with each pop of his shoulders and hips. The joy you could feel in this song hit you just like that beat hit; heavy and prominent, and you smiled wide to welcome this morning mood it brought with it.

When you stepped into the kitchen to grab a mug to make yourself some coffee you couldn’t help but sing along to the song, you loved the song as much as he did and when he noticed you enter the room you could hear him singing the main parts; expertly, even though the singer was a woman, his voice could always reach the high notes as well as the low ones. She was the kind of epic singer with one of a kind of talent that was world dominating. Baekhyun was singing along, doing the same kinds of ad-libs and vocal runs that she did and he did it while holding the spatula up to his face like a microphone.

As you walked by he dipped his head and looked into your face and his eyes caught ahold of yours. You knew what was coming. You could hear it coming in the song, the chorus. The part you had to sing. These were the rules. He leaned hard and brought the spatula up to your lips just in time for your part to come on. You did not disappoint. You gave it your all closing your eyes up tight and throwing your head back, singing from the very center of you, this part you always sang during this song. The part that was made for you; he knew it and you knew it.

His smile was genuine and breathtaking and he grabbed your hand with his spatula-less hand and pulled you into him, the beat taking over whatever bit of nervousness he might have had before. This was different. This was dancing. This was singing to simply the best song for a Saturday morning and it was moving and laughing with your best friend and you let him spin you in a small circle, careful to keep your coffee mug lifted so it didn’t hit anything during the spin.

His sense of rhythm was perfect. His hips moved as if they were made for this. You had no choice but to follow. An occasional hand on your hip told you where to go. The song was reaching its peak and you knew it was a short one. The best ones always were. It was going to begin winding down now. It was always such a sweet and short lived moment of happiness that you always appreciated immensely.

As a final move, he gave you a little spin and released you to go on your way toward the coffee maker you so desperately wanted to get to when you first entered this kitchen.

He finished the eggs with the last notes of the song.

As you both sat down to eat, his eyes met yours and yours met his and you dug into the eggs and bacon he’d prepared. You offered him a perfectly buttered toast slice and he took it, nodding his head as he bit into the crisp corner.

“So Bug,” he spoke up between bites of eggs, chewing and swallowing thoughtfully, “about this...Candy.”

You swallowed the hot coffee in your mouth and clasped your hands together, suddenly remembering how asleep he had been when you had hit it off with Candy, his practice girl.

He listened to your explanation. Your theory that the stakes were simply too high with Mia and he needed someone to talk to that was a bit more of a relaxed task for him. You called it easy mode so he might get the game reference. He ate and listened to you talk and occasionally his eyebrows would lift or screw together with whatever sorts of thoughts he was thinking inside his head. You could tell by his body language that he didn't exactly want to start something with Candy and you had to emphasize that it was really just for practice, talking to her. It was to help build his confidence.

“She’s already in, Peanut. She thinks you’re super cool, she thinks you’re rich and thinks you have a very good job and plus, you make lots of money and she seems super into that.”

He was not speaking yet, despite how much you had talked and you were beginning to get worried that he didn’t see the benefit of practicing his conversation skills a little bit.

“It’s not even real, Baek, you just have to make some things up with her. Just to get over that anxiety about talking to women. Just until you are more comfortable.”

When he finally did speak, it was as you feared.

“It just feels kinda gross, Bug. She’s a real person too, even if she is obviously a gold digger. It just seems wrong. I’ve been...thinking lately. What if this is...wrong of us?”

“What if I just have to tough it out with Mia and get the fuck over it and just,” he thrust his hands forward over the food on the table for emphasis, “just — blehhhh — talk, just fucking talk to her.”

You lifted a fork with eggs toward your lips but your stomach protested. You suddenly didn't want any more food. The coffee you were drinking had suddenly gone too cold for your liking and you pushed the plate and mug away from you with your fingertips.

You were bothered.

Why did he choose right now to suddenly grow a conscience about this? Did he forget that Mia was chatting with both of you and not just him?

“I...I just — I want to try with Mia. I know I can get over it and talk to her. And I don't want to talk to Candy. The person Candy thinks I am, well...that’s just false. I can’t be the person she’s expecting me to be.”

He had obviously read through the entire conversation with Candy last night and found the tales you told simply too stretched out for him to try and live up to.

“But that’s what people do when they start dating. They stretch the truth, make themselves sound just a little bit better, make themselves taller, or make themselves look richer. They all do this.” You simply could not understand why he didn’t get this. Why he didn’t just play by the rules that everyone followed to get through the door so he could stand a chance here.

“Well I don't. I don't want someone to fall for a fake version of me. I want someone to like me now. This me. Byun Baekhyun. The Peanut with anxiety who lives with Bug who almost killed him over a cheese stick, but who makes really great toast.”

He was smiling now, joking about the funny memories. You pulled your lips into a forced smile and lifted the coffee for another drink so you didn't have to smile any more.

He was watching your face. You were sure he sensed it. Something had bothered you to the point of giving up on your breakfast and every pass your eyes made over his face led to the same thing. He was watching you.

“Why are you upset?”

You shook your head lightly. Willing the obvious signs to leave your face. You didn't even know why. You didn't have a name for this. So you just shrugged in response to him.

“Because I don't want to practice on Candy? Did you actually like her for me?”

You really made your best attempt. You inhaled deep and closed your eyes and you shook your head.

Candy did not matter and you knew it. There was something ugly inside of you maybe. Something that did not want Baekhyun to get along with perfect Mia. Something that was fighting against the idea of him being happy and healthy and free of this unhealthy attachment you had to him. Free and happy away from you.

“Then why?”

Enough. You were being unfair to him. You had promised him that you would help him. You had gotten him this far and you’d be the worst kind of asshole if you didn't see him through to the end; if you didn't follow through with your promise to find him someone who would love him like he deserved to be loved, exactly as he was now. The amazingly wonderful Byun Baekhyun.

“It’s nothing like that,” you smiled softly. It felt like a sad smile, but at least it was genuine. “I just worry when you get so anxious. You know you fell right asleep last night. As soon as I came in, you passed right out.”

Your words skillfully slipped out of your lips and you successfully changed the subject. You felt like a coward, but you simply did not have words for what was happening to you.

“I didn’t...say anything did I? Before I fell asleep?”

This question was quiet. His fingertips grazed over his lips as he asked it, nearly muffling the words he shyly asked you at the breakfast table, the morning after.

You are so fucking beautiful.

You are so fucking beautiful.

You lifted your coffee cup to drink the tepid liquid inside and dropped your eyes from his shaking ones. The answer to his question sat on the back of your tongue even after you swallowed away the liquid.

You swallowed again and it refused to budge and yet you sat in silence, unable to utter a single word in reply to his quiet question.

Your silence went on for too long and he looked up into your face. An instant smile lifted at the corner of your lips and you forced it up into your eyes.

“You just slept, Peanut. We—” you had to exhale the breath that you had been holding for too long in your lungs, “we just slept.”

 Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

sam winchester’s deaths, ranked

8. killed (and then resurrected) by billie in 12.09 in order to escape... an underground prison...? i don’t know.

anyway, this is ranked last because it’s neither emotional nor funny and season 12 is a black hole 

7. struck by lightning in 4.08. fairly inconsequential as it’s reversed a few minutes later and it didn’t really strike me (hah) that he’d actually died there until several years later, but his smoking boots were very funny

6. oooh now we’re getting to the good stuff. he was stabbed to death by anna in 5.13 when he time-travelled to meet his young parents. there are so many gems from that episode, from his awestruck expression when he sees mary and how it makes her uncomfortable (mary the myth, one that he’s never been able to see himself a part of all his life, unlike his father and brother), to sam and dean’s quiet and pragmatic appraisal of the prospect of never being born at all, to one of the many, many times the show has sam sit down and forgive his father. but man. when anna drives that stake into his chest with all her strength, and he falls to the ground, choking and gurgling on his blood, not breaking eye contact with dean till his very last breath? wah re wah!

5. dying of old age one last time (we hope) at the end of 15.20. against all fucking odds, crafting a life and family for himself after having navigated a mountain of grief and a lifetime of conditioning, he gets to pass away in peace, of old age, holding his son’s hand. the only reason this isn’t ranked higher is because of sam’s hideous wallpaper choices.

4. walt and roy fucking eliminating him via shotgun blast to the chest in 5.16. what i love most about it is the suddenness: sam sitting on his bed, hands up, barely allowed to say a word in his defence before he’s full of buckshot. he’s dead before his head hits the pillow. short, shocking and so goddamn brutal.

 3. jumping into the cage to spend an eternity trapped with the devil in order to save the world in 5.22.

one of the greatest tragedies of supernatural is how the sheer magnitude of this sacrifice gets lost as the series wears on and lucifer is often reduced to a petulant teen. this was it. there was no hope of coming back; only endless suffering to look forward to. this sacrifice changed everything.

on the other hand i’m glad the show undermined this as it went on, especially now that we know how sam’s story definitively ends. this sacrifice was rooted in the need to atone, to embrace that there is something rotten and wrong inside of him and for him to do good despite that. what a load of nonsense. also, looking back, the way dean and especially bobby just sort of... accept that it’s ok for sam to do this? that little speech about sam “having a lot of good in him too” like that’s something remarkable and unexpected? fuck you.

ahem. anyway, it was beautiful and very jesus-imagery-y, so number 3 it is.

2. 13.21. fucking 13.21 man. it isn’t so much the death but the resurrection that’s so devastating: getting your throat torn out by vampires has nothing on discovering that it was lucifer that resurrected you and the shame of owing your life to your abuser and having him use you to manipulate the people you love--

the rage and fear on sam’s face as soon as he discovers this, the way it’s dredged up from the very core of his being--

i have never moved on emotionally from this moment and every time i think about it i’m half convinced that s14 and s15 is an elaborate mirage because i can’t think of a way spn could plausibly move on from this moment and tell the story that it wants to tell

1. sam’s very first death all the way back in 2.21.

not only was it unexpected and utterly devastating, but the way it was played: sam hobbling away from the ghost town as one of the last surviving azazel’s children, seeing dean, smiling in relief, both of them calling out to each other--just before jake stabs him straight through the spine, sam falling to his knees and dean managing to catch him just before he falls on his face. the way he wobbles bonelessly in dean’s hold even while dean is mumbling his own reassurances, brushing sam’s hair, holding his face in his hands. the way sam can’t focus on anything, his eyes flitting from side to side like he’s already just... not there in his body anymore before closing for good. the moment dean realises that sam’s gone, his sharp “SAM!” before he buries his face in his brother’s hair and rocks him back and forth....

exquisite. spn could and never would top that scene.

[moodykylo]

Sleep Deprived

CW: Sleep deprivation, canon typical self loathing

Spoilers for tpp season 2&3

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Juno Steel was exhausted. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept a full night on the Carte Blanche, and it was starting to catch up to him. 

Juno’s sleep was becoming increasingly restless as the nights came and went; each night leaving old memories rearing their ugly heads. When he was able to sleep, it was anything but peaceful. Whenever Juno found himself drifting off, nightmares would begin behind his eyes, jolting him awake. He had to stop sleeping in the same room as Nureyev in fear of waking him. Now, he was alone, nightmares becoming worse and worse. He had really thought he was done with these childish nightmares of Sarah and Benzaiten, but now they were increasing in both frequency and fervency.

Now, Juno was sitting in his own room, on his bed, eyes burning with fatigue and brain on fire with memories. He sat in his bed, eyelids drooping as he fought with sleep. 

After about half an hour, sleep finally won and Juno’s dreams were anything but sweet.  Sweat beaded on his forehead and he thrashed in his sleep, mumbling quietly, behind his eyes a scene of the past replaying like a favorite movie, until finally, he woke with a gasp, chest heaving. 

Juno groaned, standing from his bed. He wandered out into the hallway - if he was going to be awake, he might as well make himself useful. He stopped in the middle of the hall to lean on the wall as dizziness hit him with no warning. Frustrated with the spell, he pushed through it, rubbing at his eyes.

Juno entered the kitchen, taking out his comms and squinting at it. The rest of the Carte Blanche crew would be up soon. At least he’d gotten some sleep that night, he thought to himself with a bitter laugh. He got himself a glass of water before walking over to the stove and starting to cook a simple meal as breakfast for the crew. 

Contrary to popular belief, Juno did know how to cook. Sure, his ability wasn’t anything spectacular, but he did know how to cook something decent. Today, “something decent” was pancakes. He made almost every pancake perfectly round, saving the oblong one for himself (although he could only manage to eat half of it).

Juno was just finishing up making the pancakes for almost everyone on the ship - although Buddy would be having her usual morning cocktail instead - when Jet walked into the kitchen, bright and early as usual.

“Juno. You’re awake before usual,” Jet said before gazing at the pancakes. “And you’ve cooked. This is out of character, you sleep the latest of everyone,” Jet observed. 

“Hey big guy. I was just awake early, couldn’t sleep.” Juno shrugged. He wasn’t exactly lying per se, but he wasn’t telling the truth, either. Juno rubbed his eyes as another dizzy spell threatened to make him lose his balance.

Jet looked Juno once over without saying a word, and then he grabbed a plate of pancakes. Rita walked into the kitchen next, eyes wide upon seeing Juno standing there. 

“Mistah steel! You’re never awake this early! You made pancakes too!? What, is it my birthday or somethin’? No, no my birthday ain’t for another few months-” Rita rambled before Juno cut her off to explain.

“Just couldn’t sleep. Wanted to do something nice for once, I guess,” he mumbled, leaning against the counter to keep himself steady - why was he so dizzy? Well, it could be the lack of sleep, but it had to be more than that, he thought to himself before Rita’s voice pulled him out of thought. 

“Awww Mistah Steel, that was awful sweet of ya. Thanks, boss!” Rita said before grabbing her pancakes. 

“Not your bo- You’re welcome, Rita.” Juno sighed, a tired smile playing on his lips. 

There was a short wait before the rest of the crew was in the kitchen all with varying reactions. 

“Woah Steel, didn’t know you were capable of being awake before noon, or that you could cook!” Vespa joked before taking a look at Juno, he looked absolutely exhausted. She walked closer to him, talking so only he could hear. “You alright? You look tired.” 

Juno sighed before pushing the heel of his palm into his eyes. “Just fine Vespa, just couldn’t sleep last night.” He blinked hard, trying to get rid of the thick weight of exhaustion from his eyes. 

Vespa almost said something else before Buddy walked into the kitchen. 

“What’s this about Juno cooking?” Buddy said looking over at the pancakes and her cocktail sitting on the counter, not missing how utterly wrecked Juno himself looked. She had known Juno had not been sleeping and saw it was now catching up with the ex P.I. “I’m impressed, wonderful job.” she praised. 

“Thanks…” Juno replied timidly. He was always struck with an odd pride when Buddy complimented his work.

Before any other words could be said, Nureyev entered the kitchen. “Juno, you’re up early…” His eyes were filled with an unspoken worry. Juno just shook his head, already knowing Peter wanted to ask what was wrong. 

“I’m fine, Ransom.” Juno replied before sitting down abruptly; standing was becoming too much work, his knees felt weak and his vision was fading in and out, he was cold, was anyone else cold? It didn’t seem that way… 

“Look everyone I’m fine, I just couldn’t sleep so I figured why don’t I make myself useful for once in the morning.” Juno said again, a tad too crankily. The tone made both Nureyev and Buddy raise an eyebrow, but the conversation was already moving forward when Rita started talking about a stream. Nureyev grabbed his pancakes and Buddy grabbed her meal replacement, a pinot noir, and sat down. 

When everyone was distracted from the discussion, Juno snuck out of the kitchen and into his bedroom to hide under his blankets - he was freezing. He knew that this probably meant a fever. The chills doubled with the room spinning when he moved too quickly and the splitting headache he had, he knew he was completely fucked for the day. 

He closed his eyes for a second before someone was knocking on his door, next thing he knew he was on his feet grabbing clothes from his closet. “Come in,” he said quietly. 

“Juno darling.” Nureyev’s gently called out before walking into the room. “Are you alright? You left rather quickly.” Peter looked over to Juno picking out clothes from the closet. 

“Yeah, just changing into some actual clothes…” Juno responded, putting his selected clothes on the bed. He discreetly grabbed onto the bedpost as the worst dizzy spell that day hit him.

“Juno?” Peter asked as he watched Juno grip the bedpost and sway dangerously. “What’s going on?” 

“‘M fine, just need a minute.” Juno straightened himself out trying to pretend nothing had even happened. “What’s up? What did you need?” Juno looked at Peter, shaking his head to clear the blurriness that was obstructing his view of his beautiful boyfriend, his makeup already done for the day, and suddenly he was embarrassed to be seen in his current state. 

“Are you okay? What happened just then?” Nureyev walked closer to Juno, taking note of how tired he looked, of the slight flush he could see on Juno’s face. “Are you sick? You look exhausted.” 

Juno mentally cursed himself, he was busted - he knew he couldn’t lie to Peter Nureyev, whenever he tried the thief saw through his lies immediately. 

“No, I’m not sick. Just haven’t been sleeping very well lately. It’s kind of starting to take a physical toll.” He sat down on his bed, too weak to stand, a chill running up his spine, accentuating his weakness. 

“Nightmares again?” Peter asked Juno, to which the other nodded. Peter took note of Juno’s state and frowned, concern evident on his face. 

“Are you sure you’re not ill? You seem to have a fever.” Nureyev cupped Juno’s face, frown deepening at the heat he found. 

“Careful Nureyev, you don’t want to get frown lines.” Juno joked before leaning into the coolness of Peter’s hands. 

“Now isn’t the time for jokes, darling, I am rather worried about you.” Peter said to Juno, cupping his too-hot cheek. 

“‘M okay.” Juno said, still leaning into Peter. 

“You don’t seem okay, dear… I’ll be right back, alright?” Nureyev asked, sitting Juno down on his bed. He was going to get Vespa, she was the ship’s doctor, after all, she would know what to do. 

“...Okay,” Juno responded after a beat. 

Peter took a final look at Juno, smiling at him worriedly before walking out of the room and beginning the search for Vespa. 

With Nureyev’s absence, Juno laid down on his bed, wrapping himself in blankets, trying to keep his eyes open. It was a grueling task, but he didn’t really feel like reliving every traumatic event he’d ever had upon falling asleep.

Sleep almost won, but just barely, Nureyev was back in Juno’s room with Vespa before the former P.I. could succumb to slumber. 

“Steel, I knew something was up with you this morning,” Vespa said as she entered the room, looking Juno over. 

Nureyev stood out of Vespa’s way, nervously watching, he’d seen Juno deal with quite a lot, and perhaps that’s what made him more nervous. 

“So, you wanna tell me what’s wrong, or am I going to have to examine you?” Vespa asked Juno, who only nodded listlessly. 

“Yes to which one Steel?” Vespa asked sharply, her worry coming off as impatience, she was used to Juno’s sharp tongue, and seeing him acting so unlike himself was worrying. 

“First one. Haven’t been sleeping well.” Juno slurred exhaustedly. 

Vespa looked at him sympathetically, she understood sleepless nights due to nightmares, she, however, had never had a time where the sleeplessness caught up to her quite as bad as it did Juno. 

“There’s nothing I can really do besides treat the fever Ransom told me about.” Vespa explained, pulling out fever reducers and handing them to Juno, who swallowed them dry and laid down. 

Vespa and Peter exchanged a worried look before Vespa left the room. 

Juno watched Vespa leave through half-closed eyes, fighting against sleep. He ultimately lost the battle, however, when he was asleep within minutes of Vespa’s departure. 

Peter watched Juno fall asleep, sighing in relief watching the ex-detective’s features grow soft and unguarded in sleep. Unfortunately for Juno, this peaceful sleep didn’t last long. 

After about an hour of Juno sleeping “peacefully”, Nureyev watched Juno’s expression twist into discomfort, sweat rolling down his boyfriend’s face, cheeks slightly flushed from fever. Juno started mumbling incoherently, terrified of a threat invisible to Nureyev’s eyes. 

Nureyev considered waking Juno as he watched him grow more and more terrified, but ultimately didn’t need to, Juno woke on his own, a strangled cry ripping from his throat. 

Juno couldn’t remember what his dream was about when he woke, hearing his own screams and feeling tears slipping down his cheeks, but he was still shaken anyway. He remembered hearing screams and feeling cool tears in his dream but maybe that was just his own. 

Nureyev was staring at him, looking at Juno with such worry that it made the P.I. feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t like being the cause of such a look. 

“Sorry, I’m okay.” Juno said timidly, watching Peter relax a little. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Peter asked, but regretted it when he saw Juno visibly tense at the question. 

“I don’t exactly remember what happened.” Juno explained, weariness seeping out with every word. 

Nureyev only nodded, letting Juno drift off again.

____________________________________________________________________________

Many hours passed of the same cycle of Juno sleeping and waking with a strangled noise, whether it be a gasp or a scream, and Juno could tell it was only stressing Peter out, so when dinner finally came, Juno practically begged Nureyev to take a break from watching him. 

“I’ll be fine, It’ll only be an hour at most.” He’d said, Nureyev, nodding and leaving with a look of apprehension. 

Juno sighed, he knew why Nureyev was hesitant to leave, why he was always hesitant to leave; because Juno himself had left him alone. 

After the guilt wore off, Juno found his eyes growing heavy once more and he fell back to sleep. 

It was quiet for a while before Juno awoke again, sweat pouring down his face, and a faint knock at the door. 

“Come in,” Juno said quietly, expecting Vespa to be checking in on him, however, that was not who it was. 

“Ah Juno, I hope I didn’t wake you.” It was Buddy, her heels clicking on the floor as she walked into Juno’s room. 

“You didn’t wake me, I was already awake,” Juno said, embarrassed; he respected Buddy, and here he was looking like a mess. 

Buddy frowned. “Ah well, I’d like to have a chat with you,” Buddy said, her nerves ever slightly showing. 

Juno’s chest tightened with fear. “Um, yeah, sure…” Juno replied, feeling like a child caught with their hand caught in the cookie jar. 

“You’re not in any sort of trouble. I just want to ask, are you alright? I’ve just noticed you haven’t been sleeping recently, and well, I’ve been woken up a few times from hearing you scream.” Buddy explained looking at Juno with pity. 

Juno felt small and weak. “I’m sorry.” He responded meekly, guilt ever so evident in his tone. 

“Nonsense,” Buddy replied sitting on Juno’s bed, keeping her distance but still sitting close enough to be a comfort. “It’s no bother to me, it only concerns me that you’re bottling things up again.” She gave Juno a knowing look. 

“Sorry.” Juno replied, looking at the floor. He felt the guilt crawl up from his chest and into his throat and before he knew it, he was crying in front of the person he respected the most. 

Buddy felt a pang of sadness but did not let it show, she kept her composure and began to speak again. 

“I know things haven’t been easy for you. I don’t want you bottling all these emotions up, how about you talk about these nightmares of yours with me? No pressure but, it might help.” Buddy said, placing a comforting hand on Juno’s back. 

And with that, Juno began to sob, spilling his guts to Buddy, telling her everything that happened in his dreams. He wailed and retold the memories to Buddy, stopping with hiccuping breaths. 

Buddy had known of the former P.I’s struggles but hadn’t known the extent of them all. Perhaps she could blame the fever but she hadn’t expected all the walls Juno had built up to crumble at that moment, but she knew one thing - Juno trusted her. 

Juno couldn’t believe how easily he’d just said everything to Buddy, his captain, and the person who could kick him out of the crew at the slightest wrong move. He didn’t care, he finally felt light, lighter than he’d felt in months, and after a few moments, he spoke.

“So much for you not being my therapist,” Juno said with a tired smile.

Buddy laughed, the sound hearty and melodic, making Juno laugh along with her. 

“I may not be your therapist, but I do care about you, Juno, and that counts for something,” Buddy replied once her laughter died down. 

Juno smiled. “Yeah. Thanks, Buddy.” He laid down, suddenly too exhausted to continue sitting upright. 

“Any time dear, now I do believe it’s time you get some rest, hmm?” Buddy suggested, standing from the bed. 

Juno nodded, closing his eyes and drifting off, and as Buddy left he fell asleep, staying asleep, peacefully for the first time in a good long while.

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Extra 7

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Extra: Bai Ming and Zhang Yiqing

After Bai Ming and Zhang Yiqing met, Zhang Yiqing once asked Bai Ming a question. He asked him: "What are your dreams?"

When he heard this question Bai Ming immediately beamed. He met Zhang Yiqing’s eyes and answered earnestly and solemnly, "my dream is you."

At this, Zhang Yiqing was momentarily taken aback.

"I'm seriously asking."

Bai Ming, "and I'm seriously answering."

Bai Ming indeed was serious. Before encountering the doors, he'd already been a fan of Zhang Yiqing, obsessively devoted to that handsome man onscreen.

Bai Ming collected Zhang Yiqing's every movie, every drama, and every commercial. And when he found out that Zhang Yiqing was quitting the silver screen to direct behind-the-scenes instead, Bai Ming went crazy for a good long while.

During that while, nobody in their organization dared to go through doors with him. They all knew Bai Ming was the sort of person capable of doing anything on a bad mood.

Back then, Bai Ming had not yet been the boss of their organization. He had just been a plain and simple door-crosser, though the potential he emanated often gave his fellow door-crossers the sense that he was no small-pond creature.

Bai Ming's family situation was more complicated. He'd lived at an orphanage since youth, and had only been found and brought back home after he turned twelve. Only then did he learn that his father was actually a rich man, and the reason his father brought him back had nothing to do with paternal devotion, but rather because his brother needed a healthy liver.

This sort of bloody melodrama was what befell Bai Ming.

The truth was, prior to actually meeting Zhang Yiqing, the two of them had seen each other once before.

It was at a cocktail party hosted by the Bai family. Bai Ming had stood in a corner, small and thin, and watched as a smiling Zhang Yiqing chatted with his father. Zhang Yiqing had been young back then, and had just recently snagged Best Actor—there was still a touch of youth in his appearance, but the unparalleled splendor of his later years could already be seen.

Bai Ming had stared at him for a long time, many thoughts flashing through his mind. At this point he was already a fan of Zhang Yiqing's movies, but was too nervous to just walk up and start talking to him. He could only gaze from afar.

And later, Bai Ming met the doors, so he'd thought that there was only ever to be the one encounter between he and Zhang Yiqing.

But fate was always an extraordinary thing. After many years of hard work, Bai Ming had staked out quite a position for himself in the world of the doors. One day, a good friend suddenly asked him: "Bai Ming, you like Zhang Yiqing, right?"

Lit cigarette hanging between his lips, Bai Ming vocalized a lazy, "mh."

"He's started entering doors too," his friend told him. "Want to consider taking him on?"

Bai Ming's head twisted to stare at his friend.

"What did you say?"

Looking innocently back at him, his friend repeated himself.

Bai Ming extinguished the cigarette and laughed, "this isn't a joke, is it?"

Of course it wasn't a joke. The moment he saw Zhang Yiqing again, Bai Ming knew that his dream was about to come true.

Zhang Yiqing, who had retreated behind the scenes, was no longer as tender as he'd been in his youth. He was no less handsome, however. Like an aged bottle of wine, he and his charms had not faded with time, in fact had begun to emanate a unique fragrance of maturity.

All competent people have arrogance, and Zhang Yiqing was a proud standout in his industry. He'd taken the laurels for Best Actor four times, not to mention countless other awards, both large and small. The year he turned to directing, the country had even nominated him for Best Director.

The only shame was that after encountering the doors, his fate was forced to take a sharp turn.

"Hello, I'm Bai Ming." The two sat face-to-face, and Bai Ming held a hand out to Zhang Yiqing with a smile. His smile was sincere, and paired with that harmless-looking face, there really was no visible aura of an apex predator about him. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Naturally, Zhang Yiqing was fooled by Bai Ming. He took Bai Ming's hand and said, "it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Zhang Yiqing."

"Oh," Bai Ming nodded. "I've seen your movies."

Zhang Yiqing smiled politely. He likely thought Bai Ming was just a normal fan, or perhaps not even that—Bai Ming may just be an audience who had seen his movies in passing. But much later, when Zhang Yiqing saw that room stacked full of his own works, he would finally realize that Bai Ming was nowhere as harmless as he made himself look.

Of course, at this point, Zhang Yiqing was not aware of anything. He saw the headful of natural curls, the unsophisticated grin, and really took Bai Ming for a gentle-natured young man…

At this point Zhang Yiqing even failed to understand why everybody in Bai Ming's organization was so scared of him, to the point where Zhang Yiqing thought there really must be a misunderstanding…

Inside and outside the doors, Bai Ming did not change much. His personality stayed genial. When confronted with malicious words or even malicious people, he was never even vicious in return.

Sometimes, Zhang Yiqing even thought Bai Ming was being too nice, and would step up to protect Bai Ming.

"You're too well-tempered," was something Zhang Yiqing once said. "Nice people get taken advantage of. Harbor no intent to hurt, but preserve all instinct to caution!"[1]

Bai Ming listened to Zhang Yiqing's reprimand and said, beaming, "Zhang-ge's right to scold me."

Zhang Yiqing didn’t know what went through his head then, but seeing Bai Ming's well-behaved smile, he reached out and gave that head a pat. Only after touching Bai Ming did he realize the gesture didn't seem quite right, and so he coughed once, before explaining, "it just looks good to touch."

Bai Ming just blinked his eyes noncommittally.

Bai Ming's hair was extremely fluffy and truly peak touch quality. Just seeing it made people want to pet it. But there really weren't that many people who’d dare to pet a tiger—Zhang Yiqing was one of few, though at that time, he had yet to discover the fact that Bai Ming was a ferocious beast, and not some adorable kitten.

But fake was fake in the end—Zhang Yiqing was no idiot either. By the time he became aware of the incongruities about Bai Ming's person, the two of them had already grown closer.

Zhang Yiqing had noticed the oddity and even joked about it, saying, "Bai Ming, how come I've discovered that anyone who crosses you gets struck with misfortune?"

Bai Ming batted his eyes at this.

"Don't they deserve it?"

At his smile, Zhang Yiqing froze. Zhang Yiqing had only been joking, but after careful thought, a layer of cold sweat began to dot his back. Because as far as he could remember, ever since he and Bai Ming started entering doors together, those who had wronged Bai Ming were not simply "unfortunate," they were all…dead.

That's right, dead. Dead via various odd accidents. Some things may seem accidental on the surface, but—upon multiple occurrences—could no longer be mere coincidence.

Incidental became inescapable after a certain point.

Having realized something, Zhang Yiqing looked once more to Bai Ming, and found that the young man who was once so easy to read now seemed something of a stranger.

The good thing was, that feeling only lasted for a moment, because Bai Ming grinned and scooted closer again.

"Zhang-ge, come get hotpot with me tonight?"

"Sure," Zhang Yiqing agreed.

The relationship between the two of them was still ambiguous at this moment, but one could die at any time inside the doors. Zhang Yiqing saw clearly Bai Ming's devotion to protecting him, and so the two got closer and closer—until one day, when Zhang Yiqing went to a party.

As a heavy hitter in the entertainment industry, there were naturally many people lined up to take a ride on his coattails. That was why that day, a coworker introduced him to a beautiful young woman.

Though Zhang Yiqing rejected her immediately, Bai Ming, who'd come along for fun, still saw everything.

Oddly enough, against Bai Ming's gaze, Zhang Yiqing felt a sense of guilt. The party hadn’t even been over when Bai Ming pulled Zhang Yiqing alone into a break room. Zhang Yiqing wanted to resist at first, but discovered that he wasn't at all Bai Ming's opponent—he was picked up and brought along as if he were a sack of rice.

"Does Zhang-ge have someone he likes?" was what Bai Ming asked him.

Zhang Yiqing said, "no."

"No?" Bai Ming said. "Then what's the deal with her?"

Watching Bai Ming's expression, Zhang Yiqing had the thought that the person before him seemed a bit drunk. He licked his lips, and spoke hoarsely: "I don't like her."

"You don't like her, but you'll still have her?" Bai Ming asked.

Zhang Yiqing opened his mouth, wanting to explain. But when the words got to his lips, the pride in his bones was for some reason set off by Bai Ming's accusatory tone. He lifted his chin and, with a cool expression, forced down the anxiety deep in his chest.

"So what if I will?"

Bai Ming pressed a hand to his lips, got closer, and hummed, "but I'll get angry."

Zhang Yiqing's brow furrowed.

Bai Ming, "I'll get very…very…angry."

Zhang Yiqing was just about to ask and so what if you get angry when Bai Ming shoved him onto the break room sofa. Bai Ming's fingers picked apart the first button on his shirt, and the man looked down at Zhang Yiqing from high above. His voice when he spoke was colder than anything Zhang Yiqing had heard from him.

"I don't want to wait anymore."

Zhang Yiqing's eyes went wide. This was the first time he became aware that Bai Ming and that harmless youth he thought he knew were two completely different people.

"Zhang-ge," Bai Ming said. "I like you. Do you like me?"

Zhang Yiqing swallowed, and he didn't answer Bai Ming's question. He only said, "calm down a second…"

Bai Ming watched him. "You also like me, right? You just don't want to admit it…But even if you don't admit it, that’s alright." He smiled, as handsome as an incubus. "It's fine as long as I like you."

Everything that happened after that was unspeakable.

By the time Zhang Yiqing once again regained consciousness, he was limp all over. Bai Ming had him wrapped up in blanket and was placing him into the car. Seeing him wake, Zhang Yiqing beamed.

"Zhang-ge, you're up? We're headed home now."

Zhang Yiqing wanted to speak, but found his voice nearly gone. He recalled something, and a smudge of red appeared over his cheeks as he grated out: "Animal."

Bai Ming batted his eyes. "Zhang-ge, are you calling me big?"

Zhang Yiqing, "…" He surrendered.

Bai Ming, "no worries, it's only 3AM. There's still plenty of time when we get back."

Zhang Yiqing wanted to retort, so Bai Ming caught him by the lips. Bai Ming's kiss was rough enough to turn his mouth an evocative red.

Zhang Yiqing went dizzy with the kiss. It was only then that he had the faint realization that he…seemed to have caught the attention of someone incredible.

Translator’s Notes:

害人之心不可有，防人之心不可無; idiom that literally means, “you can’t have intent to hurt people, but you can’t not be guarded against people.” The two phrases have parallel rhythms Chinese (note the four middle characters are identical), so coming up with a translation that mirrors that to some degree is both fun and difficult.

[Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths(3)] | [Extra: Tan Zaozao]

[chryzure-archive]

hmm what r some of ur favourite tropes to write about or to read? what kind of twists or smthing do u like for those tropes owo. FAVE THINGS TO PUT IN CHARACTER DESIGNS??? top 5 book characters….i like ur book opinions so much <3

EXTREMELY CLICHÉ, but i adore “trapped in a small space together” trope…. writing it is fun, reading it is fun—because you’re Stuck There!!! so it’s time to forcibly progress this relationship!!! BONUS POINTS IF ONE IS CLAUSTROPHOBIC, so the other has to think of ways to distract them!!! when it’s done right… oh yeah, it’s EXCELLENT.

also wearing the other one’s clothes… irl, it jst makes me happy when ppl steal my clothes (not in a romantic sense, jst more in a !!!!!! we’re friends and you trust me and i trust you!!!!!), so obvi i LOVE it in writing too!! i esp love chryzure where chrysi’s wearing azure’s sweaters and she’s so tiny in them!! plus vice versa, where azure wears chrysi’s oversized hoodies and it fits him nicely and she’s like “oh…….. that looks very nice on you………….” struck through the heart with an arrow!!! blame cupid!!!

oh, wait wait, more serious answer—writing and reading forced arranged marriage that slowly turns to love is also something i love. the mirror visitor series did it impeccably, but i ESP love when it’s like “i can’t tell if you actually love me or if the marriage made you change your mind” “who cares? we’re together now and i love you because of it. why deny ourselves this?” AHHHH, GOING CRAZY, GOING WILD.

okay hmmm, some fun twists i have on tropes…. suddenly, i have forgotten every story idea or scene snippet i have thought abt ever.

OH, OKAY, WAIT I HAVE ONE!!! so yk the trope where someone pulls their friend/lover off someone they’re beating up??? well, azure will pull chrysi off someone she is violently attacking (it’s deserved) and she’ll jst dangle in his arms like a blood-stained kitten. he doesn’t put her down. her feet can’t reach the ground :((( and then, similar to the second lilo & stitch movie, if the person makes a snarky comment that pisses both azure and chrysi off, he’ll jst go “actually.” and release chrysi to attack once more. he supports chrysi’s violence 🖤

another (less happy) one is the idea that true love DOES conquer all…. but there’s a price for it :((( so, YES, azure WILL save chrysi—he’ll defy all odds and fix everything!!!… but he’s gone for good now. he’s dead. he can’t come back and haunt chrysi—she doesn’t even get the relief of being able to see his ghost. that’s the case in the chrysigil story… azure breaks all laws of nature to save his chryseis, and that’s all he has the strength for. it hurts, but i love it. the love didn’t last, but it was still there! it mattered because it was beautiful and fragile and it was love—doesn’t mean it wins every time. stephanie simply couldn’t understand such a concept, smh

I ADOREEEE red eyes + curly/messy hair, DARK EYES, MY BELOVED!!!! all my characters all have some sort of freckle or mole or facial mark because i think faces are so fascinating…… i love having unnatural hair colors on my characters as well!!!! and SMILES, making them unique!! like a scar on the lip, or a freckle, or dimples. long hair is also something i LOVE. drawing long hair is SO FUN FOR ME.

ooohhh, top five book characters??? difficult! i’ll make it worse by not mentioning any of chrysi’s book bfs because that’s cheating. also, this isn’t in any particular order, it’s jst in order of who i recall!

lucy carlyle from lockwood and co. !!!! i think she’s such a fun protag, esp since she’s so coarse and rude and imperfect and headstrong!!! i love her, i want to adopt her :)

MISTRESS LUCK, WAIT, HOW COULD I FORGET HER…..: LOVE HER SOSOSO MUCH, SHE DESERVED MORE SCENES. FOR MY PLEASURE. DEEPLY UPSET…. I MISS HER :(((((((( finale’s only flaw was that there was not more of Her 🥰

sir percy blakeney frm the scarlet pimpernel because wow!!!! vigilante leader pretending to be The Stupidest, Most Vain Man Alive?????? the BLUEPRINT for chrysi and her vigilante shenanigans, esp in my 1800s zombie au!!!! everything he does is SO funny to me & i also love all the different iterations of him (i actually endorse both the movie and the musical, despite both being different from the book. i need to read the other books in that series so i can judge those as well!!)

tea & kalen frm the bone witch…. i cannot separate them. they are deeply in love. and they’re so adoring of each other that it makes me cry…. rin chupeco knew what they were doing + i think they should write more romances like that actually……… i do need to read their other books because i love their writing style sm!!!

………. now i know he committed so many crimes and everything he did was inadvisable and i think he probably deserved what happened to him, BUT i love my wet pathetic little meow meow augustine lawrence from the death of jane lawrence…… i will accept everything he’s done. i support his actions. the scene where he’s crying through the walls + begging for help??! the scene where he’s coughing + sweaty + feverish from the curse???? ALRIGHTY THEN. he’s such a little bastard, but he’s one step away frm bursting into tears at all times that it’s okay!!! i endorse it!!!!!!!!!! :)

THANK YOU ALSO, i was jst ranting to a friend abt my book opinions, so it makes my heart warm + happy that you like my book opinions 🥰🥰🥰 i will continue to have them :>